Friday, January 28, 2011

Apple Doesn't Fall Far

Yes, this is a child after my own heart. A multi-tasker like no other.

Vacuuming in her j's, check.
Chit-chatting on the phone, check. (however...I do not enjoy phone convos near as much as this one does)
Styling in her Danskos, check.

Love this child.

And another moment in which the girl who looks NOTHING like me, but acts JUST like me made me giggle. She was playing with a puzzle earlier and couldn't get two pieces to go together and this is what I heard.

"UGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH are you eben seeerious? I am so ober dis, I am jes DONE, otay. Jes done. Ugh."

I swanny....I thought it was me. Brought me back to days at Children's Medical Group in which I would tell Dr. Smith the same thing, especially on Thursday afternoons.

Just a little fix of Louisa for the weekend. Geeze, I love that kid.

Thursday, January 27, 2011

Stick a Fork In Me

because I am d-o-n-e.

Not really....but getting close. BBN sure has gotten a lot closer to being ready than his momma. Can you see how much he is dropping and growing?

He is a restless little booger now-a-days. Methinks next week is the golden week. But, I have been known to be wrong before - it just doesn't happen often. Ha. Wow, that is the feisty-ness speaking. Honestly...I am feeling great. Don't get me wrong - at the end of the day I am uncomfortable as they come and have a hard time sitting, or leaning over, and I have just given up on bending over for anything at anytime of day (this is where it is VERY helpful having a toddler) and I grunt and groan and my uterus contracts and BBN puts more pressure on my pelvic floor than I would like - but I do feel good. Now that I am over my sickness, I have gotten little spurts of energy that are keeping me going. I don't know where they are coming from since I surely am not sleeping at night anymore - but I won't question them. I am trying my hardest to get everything set to go in case he does go ahead and come on and then I can honestly say that I am ready. Ideally...I want another week at the least. I could be just fine with more time!

But today I got down to business. I got to doing laundry so I could get our bags packed. Funny story - when I had Louisa...this is what I packed in my bag. Pre-maternity clothes. Yes, have you fallen out yet? I had NO clue that once you popped baby out everything didn't just go back to normal. And, I was in denial of all 39 lbs that I had packed on. So - basically I wore the same pair of pj pants every day. It was awful. I was so depressed. I wasn't prepared for that AWFUL jiggly feeling that your belly has post-partum. Ewwww, it was disgusto. So - this time I will be prepared. I am ONLY packing pajama pants and my Danskos. Well, I will have shirts too, have no fear - but nothing fancy. No makeup, no "real" clothes...nothing. So - if you come to see me, don't expect much. And don't come all fixed up because my post-partum hormones might make me need to go postal on you. Be warned. I may cut you.

So, I did laundry (well, it is still in the process...we all know I am not the most-efficient-laundry-doer, which is gonna be trying come see further down in the post as to something that I am trying out new with BBN that REQUIRES you be diligent at laundering) and will hopefully have bags packed by end of night so in case BBN wants to grace us, I will have clothes. While I was doing laundry - I giggled because I thought about how funny it is how sweet it is to do a baby's laundry BEFORE the baby arrives. I remember the same feeling with Lou. I mean, look at the sweet clothes.

They are so small and smell so delicious washed in baby detergent, I can just eat them. And I might - my appetite is back. But with that soon as baby is delivered - that laundry is no longer fun. Why is that? And speaking of sweet smells....the next two pictures are things I could and have gotten high on.

Johnson & Johnson (this is one of those like Saran Wrap, it HAS to be name brand) bedtime bath & lotion and baby Pampers. Holy shiznit. It is such a sweet smell. Don't judge if you find me bent over with my head in the diaper drawer sniffing. Do, me and send me straight to Whitfield if you catch me doing that same thing in the diaper pail. Thanks.

Oh, and how fun is this guy? I made him as a baby gift in my plush-manic-stage, but I cannot part with him. Whoops. Hope BBN loves him like I do. If not, make sure he is packed in my bags for Whitfield. :)

As I said earlier - I am not laundry queen. I suck at laundry. So much, that my husband does his own. Yikes. But...with that said - I am going to change soon. Know why....maybe this drawer of colorful yum-ness will give you a hint.

Cloth diapers - not what they used to be. No more huge pins and rubber pants. I will be trying out the cloth once we get over the early newborn stage in which baby poos every time I breathe. I am still learning all the ins-and-outs of this system, and am so thankful to have so many friends that are holding my hands through it and learning me on all the vocab that goes with it all. I can now talk AIO, pockets, covers, pre-folds and PULs like it is my job. I will be doing another post about this later on once I get more learned on the subject because I think it is something that needs more press. I am really, really excited about it and totally, mind-boozeling obsessed with it right now. And, while talking with a friend one day...she happened to say the dirty words, "Amy - you could SO make those." And you know how my mind - now you know I am obsessed with the patterns and fabrics and such as well. So - more to come later on the cloth-diapering. IF I can manage not to ruin them all in the wash. Oh, another funny - I JUST learned that washers had different cycles with different temps. Whoa. That's fancy stuff - not so fancy though since my dinosaur doesn't have half the cycles they talk about on cloth diapering sites. Interesting....

And time for panic. I did just that when I did this today.

Oh holy junk. Oh holy moles. Oh holy where did all the room in my car go batman. I outgrew my beloved Remy within minutes. Sadness. I just need an additional like 10 inches between the front seat and the back. Thank goodness for being poor and having an addiction to having a car that is paid off or else I may have to find myself at various car lots lugging around both car seats to put them in and try it out. We will make it. We will be tight in the car and will NOT, I repeat, will NOT be traveling (there is NO way possible - for remember...I don't leave my labradors anywhere, so the entire back of my SUV is already accounted for). At all. Lawdy.

But, to make things happy and shiny again as I walked inside defeated from learning my sweet SUV that I love more than anything was too small for it's own good - I spied the Fed-Ex man and almost tackled him in my front yard. Why do you think? Oh, only the ONE thing that I have been dying for for this baby.

Wahooooooooooooo!!!! Who needs an SUV when you can travel like this? Sure helps with the losing of the lbs. :) I hope.

Oh - and before I finish. Just a splash of Lou. Today when I picked her up from school her teacher informed me that while on the playground she overhead Lou asking Tucker (the boyfriend) if he liked her hair better "rumply (curly), straight or crinkly" and if he liked the "manature (manicure)" on her nails. Lord help me. I am thinking all-girls school for sure - but then I think back on the boy-craziness that went on at the one I went to. Oh dear. BBN - I look forward to you balancing out the drama that your sister creates. Please. Pretty please with a cherry on top.

Until next time...

Sunday, January 23, 2011

Sunday Shenanigans

I have come to love Sundays. Well, guess I kinda always have. Fridays and Sundays. Fridays because the weekend is starting and I know that Byron will be home the next day (usually) and it is just a fun day. Sundays are fun just because, well - I don't know yet. I will tell you if I figure it out.

Warning - my head is full of snot and thoughts are 1-800-scrugglin' anyways due to preggo brain, but now I am really hurting on composing complete thoughts.

Let's back up to Wednesday night. I started feeling poopy. You know, the old head cold in which your nose runs and you cough and just cannot hear properly and then every time you swallow your ears crunch. Well, that continued on into Thursday and into Thursday evening when I so un-fortunately pulled an abdominal muscle, wait for it......coughing. Oh my gosh. How embarrassing is that? It was for me, especially since when it happened I was in immediate pain and I was screaming and stuck on the bathroom floor (I was puking at the moment too, gotta love pregnancy). Of course Byron wasn't home - he is on one of the worst services right now in which he leaves at the crack of dawn and then gets home just a few hours before the next crack of dawn. No fun. So - I am in the fetal position on the bathroom floor (well, as fetal as you can get 9 months preggo) and I cannot move. At all. I am crying and shaking because honestly - I was scared. I asked Louisa to go grab my phone so that I could page Byron to find out when he was going to be home. I N-E-V-E-R page my husband. Maybe once in a while when I really, really need him....and this is why. My phone rings back almost instantly and I am speaking not to my husband, but to one of the OR nurses. They are always super sweet - but I cannot stand to have my business hollered across the OR for everyone in there (besides whoever is being operated on, I hope) to hear. I of course was not fond of saying, "Oh, I was just coughing and puking and I think I have pulled a muscle in my stomach and now I am stuck on the bathroom floor." So, instead...I am crying and trying to compose myself and tell her that since Byron is scrubbed in that I just need to know how much longer before he comes home and that I will be fine. Then she says, "Honey, you are crying right now - are you sure you are okay? You aren't having that baby are you?" And then I thought, hmmmmm.....if I say yes, will they let him break scrub and come home? Shame, right. But, I didn't. Instead I told her, "Ummm, I don't know?" because honestly I didn't and when I found out he would be just an hour and a half longer I figured I could do the bathroom floor for that much longer and just wait it out. Well, just to let you know...he walked in the door 3.5 hours later. Of course, Murphy visited the OR. But, as I see I just went off on a tangent, the point of my going into this was that the last few days have been rough. Not only do I risk tinkling my pants every time I cough or sneeze, I also have a shooting pain straight up my stomach due to a sore muscle. There is no glory in it anymore. The grunting is at an all-time high - but I am still good to go. I am just fine letting BBN cook a bit longer. We will be full-term this week, so the countdown really begins. I have a feeling 38 weeks is the magic week, just have a feeling...and the dates Feb 5 and Feb 10 are ringing a bell to me, but we shall see. If BBN behaves with the Otolaryngology schedule, it will either be the 4th or the 11th as Byron told me the other night, "The ideal situation is for you to go into labor on a Friday around noon so that I don't have to take the time off and get it covered." You see, paternity leave is not something that is really given. A day, or 2 at most, if you are lucky. Redunkerous...right? Oh the joys of residency. Anyways, here is BBN in his glory at 36 weeks. Check out the belly button that now pokes out and that sweet brown doggie asleep on the couch in the background.

Byron and Louisa made cookies yesterday. He is so good with projects such as these because I don't venture into them very often. Mostly because I cannot bake. The other part just has to do with messing up the kitchen. Admitted. Guilty. But, there is nothing better in Lou's world than to have some pink icing all up on whatever kind of cookie it is.

And you know, moderation really isn't her thing.

Back to the shenanigans. The whole nesting craziness has been in full force lately. On Friday, even though I was supposed to be taking it easy (not something in my vocab) I decided that I had to clean big-time. Baseboards, toilets, tubs, etc. I mean, I had this panic moment that, holy junk. This needed to be done right now. It probably wouldn't be done again until maybe summer-time or so? So, I got to it and ran out of steam quickly...and left the rest of it for today. Well, let me just tell you. I love my labradors. Love them. You all know that. I post pictures of them all the time. But I am so over fur right now I could scream. I mean, it is cold outside...WHY are they shedding like crazy? Just makes no sense at all to me. So, I lug the big-ole vacuum out to get the sofas, cushions, pillows, etc. and just when I was putting it all back I come to see this.

And I almost go postal. This cat and her obsession with laying on things I do not want her laying on drives me nutty. I JUST hollered at her to get down and pretend-chased her with the vacuum to scare her off. Or so I thought. And you know, she just stares at me. The closer I get...the more horizontal her ears go and then right before I am close enough to grab her and holler at her again, she disappears. Probably asleep in the baby's crib for all I know right now. Ugh. And then, I walk into the front room to grab the other vacuum to put away and I see this.

Okay, this is Brownie...and we all know he has special rules in this house. So, I decide to just let it go. I mean, he looks so comfy, right? Those sweet puppy paws. So, I have decided this. I am done for the moment in the battle of animal fur. I have put up my white flag. BBN will have it all over him, just as Louisa did and everything will be fine. If you come to my house, either don't sit on the furniture - or wear play clothes. :)

Speaking of play clothes, how about this lovely ensemble.

In the voice of the fairy godmother on Cinderella, "Goodness gracious my dear." She didn't go to church this way, phew. But - she did don some brown boots with the fur for a trip to Lowes with Byron later. As I said - look out Betsey Johnson.

Back to the nesting - I did the big "no-no" and moved the sofas in the den to vacuum underneath and LAWD have mercy. Nasty-ness occurred. I found all sorts of things. Including - but not limited to: a pickle, a cherry (that was from last night...I know for sure because the melt-down that occurred when it dropped is still fresh in my mind), what looks to be a shriveled up cherry tomato maybe?? (I haven't bought these since early summer, yikes), one of those plastic things you put in the plugs to keep kids fingers out (I find those EVERY where, except when I need them), raisins (gag), dog toys covered in dust bunnies, crayons, Phoebe get ready for this one....a piece of a Polly Pocket and what appears to be a pine cone?? I mean, gross. Ewwww. How did my house get so filthy? Must be since the maid quit. Guess that is what happens when she doesn't get paid. :) Just look at the fur - and this wasn't all of it.

And just to update everyone on the hair cutting incident - I still have no confession. She is still holding strong to blaming it on Murray. That dern cat. :) But, as with another rite of passage...see what I found on the wall today.

She took the blame on this one. I was honestly thinking she would try and pass it off, but she took it - and it all but broke my heart to see her face when I saw it because she knew instantly it wasn't the "right" thing to do. Bless that sweet, wild thing.

Off to more shenanigans for now. Byron is cutting tiles for the kitchen backsplash and I feel the need to get in my sewing room before I lose the gumption. :)

Tuesday, January 18, 2011

Count-Down to BBN

BBN = baby boy Norris

Tomorrow I am 36 weeks preggo. I am not sharing any belly photos right now just because I haven't gotten around to taking them. Shame, right. But, I will tell profile is quite curvy. In fact, you might get jealous. So, I will keep them to myself for now.

Today I got to take one last ultrasound look at BBN. He is so thankfully head-down FINALLY. And already 6 lbs. He looks perfect. He even made his Momma swoon for the first time. He was playing with his toes while just hanging out and having a good time. I could have watched that forever. Louisa giggled and thought it was funny and wondered if "his feet are stinky like mine and Daddy's." No - he is on Team Mom...we aren't stinky. :) But after the scan came the talk about having this baby. Whoa - oh yeah...I guess it is time to start thinking about what all goes on if water breaks, contractions start for real, etc. Oh crap, he needs a name. So, I decided with this baby (unlike with Louisa) I am going to let him come when he is good and ready. It fits in with my New Year's motto of letting it be. If he is ready tomorrow, so be it. I am not, but I think it might be fun to actually go into labor like intended. Maybe - I may change my mind in a few, but this time around I feel I need a little more time to prepare. We shall see, right. But then I actually started to think about the ins and outs of actually having the baby. The labor, the hospital stay, the adjustment, oh geeze...BBN let's hang out a little bit longer, okay? Besides, you still don't have a name. Cracker Jacks!

So, with all this thinking lately about delivery and labor and all that fun stuff that as a mother you are blessed with forgetting...I sat down and reminisced from start to finish the "end" with Louisa's pregnancy. And, shocker - I am sharing it.

It is no secret, I have said it before...I got BIG with Lou. I learned my lesson for this time, but I got large and very uncomfortable and remember thinking around week 32 I was ready. By week 35 I had had it. I started being "bad." My OB was very conservative and not an inducer and told me over and again, that "Amy, this baby will come when she is ready - and not a day before." For my first baby - I didn't want to hear this. But now, I am totally fine with it. Funny how things change. But, I wasn't okay with that answer. I wanted her O-U-T. I did everything I could to try and speed things along. My OB's office was on the 8th floor at a medical building and do you know towards the end, I fore-went the elevator and would climb all 8 sets of stairs humongo preggers not once, but at least 3 times to try and elevate my blood pressure which faithfully sits around 90/60 always. Never did it work. I also tried to dehydrate myself, I know...shame on me. But, Dr. Luhrs was right...Louisa was coming when she wanted to. One day, this stubborn nurse will learn to listen to her doctors.

However, around 38 weeks my grandmother got very, very sick. She was in the hospital with pneumonia and I wasn't allowed to travel to see her. This upset me very much, because she was my grandmother and I had an idea this was probably the end and I wanted to see her. I was very sensitive about it as well as I had lost my other grandmother years before to Ovarian Cancer while I was away at school and I deeply regret not being able to be there. I didn't want this to happen again. But, living 3.5 hours away from home and the only means to travel in the middle left me on an interstate that had nothing for hospitals between points A and B - OB was putting her foot down, she didn't want me stranded on the side of I-16 having a baby. Week 39 she was admitted to Hospice and I remember telling Dr. Luhrs - I will drive to see her pregnant as they come if you do not induce labor. It finally worked, and she scheduled me for induction 1 day before my due date (I think this may have been the only time she ever scheduled a first baby induction before week 41) in the hopes that I could get Louisa out in time to go and see my grandmother one last time. So, I went into the hospital, scared as can be at midnight to be induced.

Now - for the induction and birth story. I will spare everyone the bad details, for all you moms out there know good and well what goes on. Byron and I be-bopped into The Medical Center of Central Georgia in the middle of the night as the last time ever that it would be JUST the two of us. I remember getting my IV started and fluids started and hooked up to a ton of monitors and taking a pill (Cytotec maybe??) to get the process going. Well, let me just talk about getting IV fluids at a wide-open speed. I have a very small bladder. Very small. I have a reputation of being awful to go on car trips with for this very fact. I can tinkle 2 times every hour and have it be completely normal. Well, introduce a humongo uterus that sits on top of it and tons and tons of IV fluids - and we are going to have some issues. And, they told me not to get out of bed without calling for help. Well, I had to tinkle every 10 minutes and I got to where I felt bad calling the nurse. So - Byron and I got sneaky...he would help me by holding all the monitors in place while I went to the potty. This way, the nurses had no clue I was up and going. I thought it was brilliant. Until one time when on the way back from the potty I thought I wet my pants (or lack thereof since I had on nothing but a gown). There I stood in the middle of the room HORRIFIED that I just peed on the floor and my husband's feet RIGHT after I had just gone potty, until it dawned on me...oh crap, that was my water breaking. However, it hadn't been long enough for the meds to work - so, I guess Louisa was ready to come no matter what. So, the events that occured soon after start to get blurry. I told the nurse that my water had broken, and she confirmed that yes...indeed, I had NOT peed on my hubby, but instead had broken my water. Phew. And then the pain started. It didn't start off bad, I just remember hurting all over and my back being out of control in pain. So the nurse came and gave me Torodol and Phenergan. I have said this before, and I will say it a thousand times over. Me and Phenergan do NOT mix. Especially if you expect me to push out a baby the next day. So, one drug that WILL NOT be given on BBN's birth day is Phenergan. Not cool. Well, after I hallucinated for a bit, I fell victim to the drug and slept it off. I remember waking around 6 am or so and thinking that if I didn't go tinkle soon I was going to fall apart because I was hurting so bad. Well, the nurse told me I couldn't get up. What?? I almost went postal on her because my urge to go to the bathroom was so bad that I wanted to cry. I begged her to cath me, and she said she would once I got an epidural. I told her NOW. I was about to wet the bed everywhere if she didn't cath me or let me get up. It was bad. I was in so much pain that I couldn't stand it. I honestly thought that I was going to pee everywhere. So, around 7 or 8 anesthesia came in to give me my epidural. I was all but climbing up the walls in pain of having to go to the bathroom. Well, got my epidural (the whole time crying and acting a fool about needing to go potty) and the nurse thankfully cathed me. Well, she got all of like a sprinkle out of my bladder. This confused the mess out of me, I told her that I have been in so much pain having to go tee-tee for hours and that was all that was there and I didn't get it. I remember her smiling and telling me, "those are contractions." WHAT??? Never was I prepared for a contraction to feel that way. I had heard they felt like awful cramps and such, but never that. But, she was right...for as my epidural started to wear off later that day, sure enough...that is what I felt again. But, after I got my epidural I remember first shaking like crazy feeling like I was fa-reezing. Teeth were chattering and I couldn't stop it, but I wasn't cold. It was just the medicine. That went away and I spent most of the day sleeping off my Phenergan-induced hangover. I remember feeling so heavy since I couldn't feel my legs, it was such a strange feeling for me. But, I was not in pain. It was weird to watch my contractions on the screen without feeling a thing. The nurse would come in periodically to check me throughout the day to see if I had progressed, and nope...none at all despite the tons of Pitocin streaming through my veins. At some point, during a calm time in the day, I remember Byron coming over and sitting down with me and holding my hand to tell me the news I will never forget. My grandmother passed away that morning. In the chaos of contractions and an epidural, I lost her. I felt defeated, I was so sad - but so very, very thankful that I had decided on Kate as a middle name. Her name was Catherine, but everyone called her Kay. And so, I was glad that while Lou's birthday would always be also the day I lost her - she shared a part of her....a part as simple as a name. And then I found some peace in the thought that maybe she really wanted to be there to see Louisa as much as I had wanted to be there to see her. But I had to move on at that point - I had a baby that was coming out no matter what I had on my mind that day and so I had to focus. Ironic thing is, it was a good year or more before I actually sat down and processed and grieved. Has that ever happened to you - it is like you just cannot accept or process it because I didn't really experience all the emotions that go with it at the time. I almost convinced myself it didn't happen since I didn't "experience" it. I didn't get to go to the funeral. It was like I just missed it all, and finally one day had to come to terms with the fact that it really, really happened. No bueno.

Back to the birthing, when the nurse came in to check me around 3 or 330 she said that she had spoken with the doctor and that if things still had not progressed, we may have to look at a section. I was NOT playing along with that plan and began to have a come to Jesus meeting with my cervix while the nurse was putting on gloves. Once checked, I was super excited to learn that I had dilated enough to make the MD happy and let me continue on my path. The nurse turned off my epidural so that it would wear off so I could feel my contractions and have an active part in the birthing. Oh, and I started feeling them. That urge that I was going to wet the bed came back and I just remember feeling like my pelvis was on fire. It had been about 13 or 14 hours and Louisa was finally starting to make some progress, and honestly from that point on - it went so quick in my mind...although it was really like 3.5 hours long. I remember the excitement I felt when the MD came in and said it was time to start pushing. In a way, I knew it was because you just have that urge. You just feel the need to push. I could feel the beginnings of my contractions and I would start pushing like it was my job. I remember holding on the bed rails to give myself leverage and the next day my arms were so sore. I remember Byron counting with me. I remember being so exhausted and not thinking I could push any longer until the next contraction came. Time slipped away from me, and honestly - for that 3 hour period of active pushing this is what I remember:

  • Pain. I remember feeling like my whole body from waist down was on fire. I remember my back feeling like it was going to break.
  • Exhaustion. The pushing is honestly one of the most physically challenging things to do. I was b-e-a-t. I was spent, but I kept pushing because I was hell-bent and determined to get this baby out. Funny thing is, all you ever hear about childbirth is the pain. Yeah, it hurt - but more than anything...the physical exhaustion is what I remember the most.
  • And one thing said by my OB. I will NEVER forget this. In between contractions and pushes, I remember her saying to me, "Amy, I had no idea this baby was going to be this big." This was not very warm-fuzzy'ie to me at the time, but almost find it humorous now.
At one point I remember Dr. Luhrs saying, "Amy, I need this next push to be the best push you've got. Show me what you can do and we will have this baby out." What I didn't know is that she had the vacuum extractor by then and was tying her hardest to help me to get her out. Lou was just a big baby for me and was stuck and not wanting to come out. So, with that....I pushed like there was no tomorrow and I recall the feeling of relief as her head passed through and then the pressure of her shoulders coming out and then it just stopped and there was my baby. She was messy and she was crying and she was OUT. I wanted to close my eyes at that point and just sleep. I was exhausted. More exhausted that I ever remember feeling.

I will spare you any details of how things went after that - but looking back, the labor was NOTHING compared to the pain I felt when I got home and "recovered" from birth. That is the part that I am most afraid of again. But then again, I got through it. So - I know I can do it again. And this time, luckily I do not have an entire house to pack up when only a day or two post-partum. You see, we moved from our house when Louisa was only a week or so old. It was awful. All I wanted to do was rest, but I couldn't...I had to pack. So - hopefully this go round it won't be as bad since it will be the second rodeo, and I don't have anything to "do" other than take care of 2 children. Ha, are you choking on the coffee/wine/diet coke yet. For reals.

But, as I was thinking about all of this today - I went and found pictures from Lou's birthday. I haven't shared these much mostly because I was so swollen from all the fluids that my skin was shiny. Not greasy shiny, but full and about to pop shiny (I mean, look at the pics, I almost couldn't smile because my skin was so tight from all the fluid). It was gross. Also - I got jaundiced after birth. My OB said she had never seen that happen to anyone (other than the baby) after birth - but sure enough...I was yellow. I grossed myself out. But, I will share them on here because you know what - somehow I just don't care anymore. I had to take pictures of pictures since I don't have them digital, but looking at them made me tear up. Look at my little girl. One day, she will hate me for this picture. So scrunched up and mad...guess that is what happens when you spend a few hours in the birth canal.

She was so little, you really do forget how small they are. But, I remember this moment like it was yesterday.

I remember holding her and feeling so odd. I have talked before about how I was one of the mothers that didn't fall to mush when I was shown my baby the first time. I felt awful about it for the longest time, but it was just a strange moment for me. I remember looking at her and her looking at me, and it was almost like saying, "I know you, but I don't." It was strange, but looking at that picture with that sweet little thing looking so intently at me, makes me melt now. I just fell to mush. I just remember holding and looking and it was as if time stopped, it was quiet and we just stared. Byron fell head over heels instantly - and little did he know that 3.5 years later she would of course be on "his team."

Look at that little girl. It makes me so excited to think that sometime in the next 4 weeks I will be doing that all over again. This time, the end product will be my sweet baby boy. I cannot wait to meet him and look at him and see what he looks like. I cannot wait for that moment in which I hold him for the first time and just stare and let the world stop spinning, just for a moment. I really, really cannot wait to see Louisa's first reaction to him. I am so nervous about that.

So, BBN here is to the next 4 weeks of having you in my belly for the last time. I will miss you being in there. I will miss your hiccups and how you LOVE when I lay down in bed. I will miss you head-banging my bladder. Yes, I will miss that booty up in my ribs too. I don't know yet our verdict on baby #3, I am not prepared at all to make that decision - so who knows, this may be the last time I am pregnant. And strangely enough, that makes me sad. Amazing how humbling some hormones can be, right? But until we meet, keep on kicking. Mommy likes that. :)

Wednesday, January 12, 2011

Little White Lies

Let me share a lovely photo of my firecracker with you and see if you notice why I took the photo.

Anyone else see the spot of hair sticking up at the hair that has been freshly cut? Yeah, me too.

I knew it would happen some day. I mean, it is almost like a rite of passage that has to be experienced in growing up. I did it when I was little, I know tons of friends that have kids that have done it - and so I guess I always knew it was just a matter of time. Her mother just so happens to be a seamstress and therefore there are scissors all over the place. BUT, strangely enough - she didn't cut it. Hmmmm. Mysterious, right?

Yesterday we had discussions on lying. Well, as I was already depressed about talking to my 3 year old about not telling the truth (trivial things like putting things away or using soap in the bathroom, etc) I told her this morning that we were going to work on telling the truth and following instructions today. Two things that seem to be the theme lately - or the lack thereof is more like it. So, as I was putting her hair into pig-tails, it struck me as odd that there was a bunch that wouldn't go into the tails, but instead wanted to stand up straight full of static. Mind you, we don't have the best hair in the world in this house. It is baby-fine, full of static and refuses to do anything you ask of it. Therefore, we all (well, with the exception of Byron) wear pony-tails all the time. They are our signatures. Anywhos, I got to look closer and realized that it was not unruly hair, instead a patch that was cut about 2 inches from the scalp. So, I counted to 10, took a deep breath (knowing that it could have been way worse) and paused. Lou picked up on this, and she turned to me and guiltily said, "Nuffing Mommy, why are you quiet?" BUSTED.

So, I asked the obvious, "Lou, did you cut your hair?"

"No mam, I am not post to do that eber."

"Are you lying to me? Remember our talk about telling the truth?"

"I'm not lying. I didn't cut my hair."

So, then I tell her that it is completely obvious that someone has cut it and I need to know who it was. I told her that if she tells me the truth about cutting her hair I will be upset, but I will be more upset if she tells me a story. So, I ask her again, "Lou - did you cut your hair?"

"No, but somebody else dids."

Aha, we are getting somewhere here. So, I ask who did it and with some shuffling of the feet and wandering eyes she says, "Oh, that dern cat Murray." I resist the urge to fall off of my chair in laughter as to how she has referred to her bestie, and try to think of a way to keep a straight face. She must sense my hesitation, because she adds, "I told her not to and dat she would be in troubles, but she did it anyways. She didn't wisten to me." So, I calmly (with the straightest face possible) say, "HOW did Murray cut your hair?"

"Oh, wif her claws Mommy. Silly, dey are so sharks (sharp)."

Oh yes, my declawed cat totally cut my 3 year old's hair with her claws that don't exist. This is getting good. So I remind Louisa that Murray doesn't have claws and she needs to work on telling me what really happened to her hair. She shuffles more, then while wringing her fingers says, "Otay Mommy. It wasn't Murray. It was Mawward and Lucy. Dey chopped it with their paws and den their teefs." I really just want to roll my eyes and be done with it now - but I humor myself and say, "Oh, so the dogs bit your head?" More shuffling, then while batting her eyelashes in an Oscar-worthy moment, "No, dere was no biting. They jes ate it."

"Okay Lou, I don't believe you and am starting to get angry that you wont tell me the truth about who cut your hair, so you need to come clean and tell me."

Big sigh, "Awe, it was someone at schools. I don't remember but I wanted to put some in an enbelope to give to Tucker (her boyfriend)." Okay, now I really want to fall out of the chair. Is my 3 year old already psychotic enough to be giving her 'boyfriend' locks of hair. I start to worry and wonder if I need to really be worried about this, instead - I look at her and say, "No mam. We are not talking about Tucker any more today. If I find out that you gave him your hair in an envelope you will be in big-time trouble, that is not what we do or how we act." To which she says, "Wells, I finks that Tucker is in lub wif Audrey Cate instead anyways." And so I tell her such is life and that maybe we need to start moving on from Tucker. Then I look at her and say, "I am going to ask you one more time, did you cut your hair - was it you?" "No Mommy, I would neber do dat." So, I ask "Are you lying to me?"

And, then the classic answer that I had to leave the room on: "Ummmmmm.....I don't fink so?" while she shrugged her shoulders and batted her eyes.

So - they mystery remains. I don't know who or what for that sake cut her hair, but I think I am already over it all. It could be worse, and with my new rule of the new year, I am letting it be. Enough toddler drama for the day. Just hope I don't jinx myself, it is only 1:30.

Until our next fiasco.

Sunday, January 9, 2011

Ice is Falling From the Sky...

and since the ice is falling from the sky, and this home-girl is not a fan of anything below 60 degrees - I will blog.

So, this post is probably gonna be all over the place, but I think it has been a while since I have done that to you, so maybe it is due time. Everyone needs a little stream of consciousness in their lives.

First of all, Lucy Goose knows how it is.

This is what we have been doing today. Well, this is what me, Lucy, Mallard & Murray have been doing today. Lazars. Lazy-fest. The toddler is up and running around like a banshee does and my husband is working on the kitchen...just a sneak.

What are those - yep, concrete counters. Whoop, whoop. Hopefully we will soon no longer be battling the 50 year old white laminate counters that are stained beyond belief. I am super excited. Mostly, because twice now I have come home from the grocery to see this:

I am almost scared in a way to go to the grocery again. But hey - what makes me happy is this is the LAST (yes, I said last) leg of the renovation of our house on Cowan. Hooray. Now, I am ready to put it on the market and move. On a side note...the sink is out, the counter tops on one side are off and my husband just said to me (who is in pajama pants at the computer) "So, what's the plan in here Amy?" Oh crapola. I thought you knew.

The day started off fantabulously. Our sweet Louisa Kate was baptized. This was a morning that had so much meaning to me that I don't even know if I can begin to talk about it. I don't even know if I can find the words. I do know that while I feared the worst - such things as my water breaking while standing at the front of the cathedral, or crying like a baby in front of everyone, or Louisa trying to put her hands in the Holy water, or blowing out the Paschal went off beautifully and Louisa was an angel. She took it all in and didn't make a peep. And I realized when it was all over and done, I didn't cry. At all. I figured for sure with the moment and the hormones I was a goner. And, I am not one of those people who can "pretty cry." No mam, my eyes get red, I get splotchy and all that fun jazz. It was amazing. It was a moment that I will never forget and always keep in my mind. Louisa was so proud as well, you can just tell and that absolutely made me swoon. This little girl really has the sweetest soul there is. She is a wild one, and she is sassy and full of spunk - but she has a heart of gold. And I love that. After the water was placed on her for baptism, the sign of the cross was made on her forehead out of Chrism. She keeps asking us if we can see the cross on her head - and I told her earlier that we couldn't see it, but that Jesus could. She beamed and then said what I knew was coming, "Mommy, we hab to make sure not to wash it off." Well, I think I can indulge her on that for a bit...there could be worse things, right? Now for her first communion, I really didn't think we would have any problems with this as we have been talking about it all week. And we didn't, she did great. When we got back to our pew I asked her to kneel and say a prayer with me and she melted me in an instant and said, "Dear Jesus. Dis is da best day eber. I am so happy I finally got to eat the cracker and I will remember dis day forebers." I almost lost it right then and there. :) But, before we get all mushy-like...let me cap it off with a perfect dose of Louisa. When we sat down I asked her what she thought of the communion, and she looked at me and said, "Ohhh, I lubbed the wine." Whoops. Mother's child. Loves her forever.

So, when we got home we decided to bundle up and get cozy and since MS department of transportation advised us to stay off the roads, we got lazy. I got in my favorite spot up on the couch with my favorite snuggler and we watched movies. I think that Mallard enjoys this pillow also known as baby boy in my belly. I think that little boy likes Brownie too. It seems when Mallard lays on my belly, little boy moves over to him. Sounds weird, but it happens. I love it. Byron and I always joke that we have "teams" in our house. I am hoping that baby boy will be on MY team. Byron laughs that it will be me, Mallard & baby boy. Mallard and I are peas in a pod. We get each other and no one else seems to "understand" us. Whatevs. See how happy he is on his pillow with his new BFF? PS - I love this picture. I think I may frame and put in boy's room. :)

And then on to the other couch, also known as "Team Byron" consisting of Byron, Louisa, Murray (not pictured, hehe) and Lucy.

As for baby boy and the whole name situation. I don't know how I have failed to blog about this yet. I say that he doesn't have a name. And he kinda doesn't. But, when we were preggers with Lou we said that if we were having a boy it would be Tucker Kit. Love the name. So, we just figured this one would be little TKN for sure. Well, that was BEFORE my 3 year old had a love life. Her "boyfriend's" name is Tucker and she has been completely turned off by us naming this baby Tucker. I mean, she is down-right adamant that we not. So, it has almost been a joke. Then, the other day when we realized that we had thrown out the name we had been holding on to for a while and were back at square one, we thought...let's re-visit the whole Tucker thing. Still didn't go well. So, I was telling my OB about it at our last visit and he looked at Lou and said, "You know, Tucker won't always be your boyfriend. You will probably have others." And Lou all but jumped off of her seat, she rolled her eyes, got hands on the hips and said, "YES he will. We are in lubs and we are getting married." Then, she refused to look at him for the rest of the visit, didn't want any candy from him and proceeded to cry for about 30 minutes in the car. Oh dear me on the teenage years. But, with all this said...we got her on board for naming him Tucker, FINALLY. And as soon as we did...Byron and I fell off board. Hehe. Typical. So, back to the drawing board. And I think I know what it is going to be, but I am almost afraid to commit! Scared I will change my mind again.

Okay, the ramblings have continued and I am slowly getting tired of sitting in this chair and I have a date with the tow-head to play "village" in her room. So, I will end things with this wonderful photo. Pay no mind to the plywood backer-board. We have exciting things in-store for that.

One side in. Holy junks, loves!!!!!

Wednesday, January 5, 2011

Wanting to Expand In the New Year?

I can show you how...

Now you can see what I mean about little firecracker getting knocked in the head all the time with the belly. :) 34 weeks down...

Sunday, January 2, 2011


Brownie most certainly has the right idea in this photo.

Okay, so as I said on Facebook earlier...if last night (which also happens to be the first night of the new year) has any indication as to how the rest of the nights of the year are going to go. I am done. Out of here. Wowsers.

I am running on maybe 2 hours sleep. I know people do it all the time, I have seen my husband go in to operate on even less sleep. So, who is whining? This girl is. This pregnant momma who is tired. So, excuse any typo's, bad words, etc.

Last night was bad. Bad, bad, bad. In fact, I turned OFF my alarm this morning and have absolutely NO recollection of doing so. That never happens. Let me just give you a run-down.

Lou's sleep and her night terrors/no sleep are cyclical. We have yet to pin down what triggers, when it will happen, etc. But she woke up with a runny nose, so maybe a sickness is on the way - and we do know for sure her sleep is a bazillion times worse when she is sick. But then again, who's isn't? Well, we had been on a pretty good stretch the last week or two in which I would only hear her once or twice throughout the night. We can handle that. But last night brought me back to the days of daycare and when I worked. Roughness. I came to bed around 10 or 10:30 and so did Byron. Just as we laid down, she started. Byron got up with her then and went in there and got her calmed back down. Then, we both finally started to doze off. Byron fell asleep and I was at that awesome point in which you feel your body drifting off and you are all nice and relaxed and then I hear her. Screaming bloody murder. Now, for those of you out there not familiar with night terrors, they tell you not to wake the child. However, I have learned with Louisa that sometimes when I go in there I can sense if she is deep into a terror that will continue for quite some time. This was the case when I went in there around 1045. This is when I will wake her. Mostly because if not, she is going to continue to scream for the next 30 min to an hour in the same fashion. Well, it just happened to be one of those times that I just cannot wake her. She is in such a trance it is scary. I have her get out of bed and walk around and she is STILL in her terror. Well, I get her calmed down enough and go back to bed. 15 min later, I hear it again. So, I get up and go in there and try again to wake her and am successful this time. She asks that I lay down with her for a little while since she is so scared, and I oblige. Remember - this is my non-snuggling child. And before anyone shakes that finger at me for getting in bed with my child - you do this and see where you end up. So, I lay there with her from about 1100 until 130 am. During this time, she is up and screaming and squirming and crying every 30 minutes and I cannot get her to get out of her trance. No fun. Then, at 130 she rolls over with tears from her last screaming episode and says, "Mommy, your big fat belly is in my way. Can you please go get in your own bed?" And, so I leave her room - sleepy and with big fat belly and head off to my own bed. I slowly start to drift and am awakened by my bladder. So, I get up to go potty and right before I crawl back in bed, I hear her again. This continues about every 30 minutes throughout the night. Around 330 I crawl back in bed with her only because I am so tired of walking back and forth and climbing in and out of beds. After about 20 minutes, she tells me again that "my big fat belly is inneruping her sleep" and so I go back to my own bed. Again.

In the meantime, let me talk about Lucy and her ordeal for the night. She is having these laryngospasms or something that basically sounds like she is choking. She is fine, and they pass and she acts okay throughout them - but it scares the mess out of me. And so between Louisa and Lucy - I am wide awake at this point. I am laying in bed and realize that I have fire rising up my throat and if I breath or goodness-forbid burp, I might set the room on fire. Crap, I have forgotten to take my second Zantac of the day. So, I lay there and wonder if I should get up now and go take one or just try and drift off to sleep and see if I can ignore it. Well, I slowly start to drift and then I hear this beeping. I lay real still and listen, and I hear it again. I wait until I have heard 3 beeps before I wake Byron (he is a sleeping BEAR and is not a fan of being awakened) and ask him and he says, "Oh I think that is the smoke detector telling us battery is bad." I offer to get up and take care of it since I am already wide awake. So, I pull a chair into the hall and reach up and take the battery out of the smoke alarm at 4 in the morning and while I am up there wondering if we have any of the 9 volts anywhere in the house I hear the beeping again. I am confused not only because I have the battery IN my hand, but the beep isn't coming from the smoke detector at all. I wait for a few more beeps and then call Byron. He says, "oh I bet it is the carbon monoxide detector" and pulls one out of the closet. I am super confrused at this point because I had no idea this thing existed. So, it beeps - almost piercing both of our eardrums and he hands it to me and walks back to bed. So - I am standing on a chair at 4 am in the hallway re-installing a battery into the smoke detector and reading the back of the carbon monoxide detector trying to make sure it is in fact the battery and not alarming because we have dangerous gases (other than the fire coming up my esophagus) in our house. Well, the "chirping" on this thing is so loud that I don't even understand how they qualify it as a chirp. So, I take out the battery, go look for more - of course we don't have any of the right size and head back to bed. While I lay there and panic that we might all die of carbon monoxide poisoning since our detector (that I never knew existed) is not functioning I ask Byron if we are going to be okay and he jokes, "maybe a little carbon monoxide will help us all sleep." I am not laughing at this point and try to convince myself to go to sleep and since it is already 430 we will be awake in a few hours and all will be fine. So, I lay back down and try to doze and then I remember...the fire-breathing dragon in my throat. Ugh. Well, Lou starts screaming again at this point so I just get on up and take care of her and then head off to the kitchen to take some meds.

The last time I looked at the clock it said 503. I am assuming I finally fell asleep after that. I certainly was asleep when the alarm went off and I shut it off. Byron said Louisa woke at 650 am and was bright-eyed and bushy-tailed. I just don't get it.

So, that was a glimpse into our first night of the year. Certainly they wont all be this way, right? It just scares me with the coming baby because I wonder how in the world things are going to work. I know for the first 3 months no one will be sleeping, but after that...will he have night terrors too? Is he going to be plagued with this awful sleeping disorder like Louisa? Will he wake Louisa up at night? I mean, the reason Byron and I waited so long to have another, and quite frankly before we even decided that we could do another was because of Louisa's sleeping. So, I am just getting nervous in the count-down. When I became a mother, I was gifted with ears like well, something that is known for good hearing, I cannot think of anything right now. I hear every.little.thing. I don't even have a monitor in our bedroom because I don't need it. I hear her. So, as I enter into my 34th week of pregnancy, I am having a slight anxiety attack over the idea that I may never again sleep through the night. I have gone almost 4 years doing so, and I have adjusted to it all - but how much longer? I know I really should not complain and count my blessings (hence the last post) but I just wonder. Are there any readers out there with children that suffer repeated night terrors...any suggestions? And please don't tell me to go and sleep in another room where I cannot hear her, because I simply cannot do that as her mother. But, I will totally take my husbands advice that he told me this morning. "Amy, rest. You are a stay-at-home mom, you are finished up with brownie-goose for the moment, the nursery is done, PLEASE rest for the next 6 weeks." I think I will. I certainly wont have the chance once baby boy (still without a name, and in fact...we are back to the drawing board as we have nixed the name we thought was perfect) gets here. It goes perfectly with my new year of wanting to "slow down." Let's just see if this little fire-cracker is on board.

Just a rant, vent, it what you want. However, while I vent - I also know that things could be so much worse. So, in a way - I feel bad about complaining. But this is our journey...and I guess this is part of it. Regardless, I am calling a house-wide nap at the Norris house-hold this afternoon. No if-ands-or buts.