While looking at Father's Day cards and after reminding Lucy to stay
with me several times, she picked up a card & Pretended to read.
'This card says I don't love my mommy anymore because she is mad at
me.' KIDS!!!
Test on mobile posting.
Friday Free For All-The Baby Gear/Getting Ready Edition
1. Did I ever tell you that I get a 10% discount at Target.com through work? They have free shipping on baby gear right now, so I ordered the 2 big ticket items I needed today. LOOK!!!
AND
This is a huge weight off of my shoulders.
2. Did I ever mention the awesome sling that Shelly Overlook sent me, like way back in February? I still owe her for that one. I mean, look at it!! It is very luxurious.
3. In the grand scheme of things, I don’t have a whole lot left to buy. I saved Lucy’s bottles and still have a crapload of inserts, so I need nipples. I will buy a few binkies, but my kids don’t want them. I need new valves for my breast pump, which seriously cost like 38 cents and collection bottles because my BIL’s stupid girlfriend lost them all. How, I don’t know, because she used the pump for a week. I guess I need to make sure it still works too. A few more onseies and sleepers, nursing pads and bags, butt cream, diapers, some baby soap, a sleep positioner and I think I’m pretty much done? I’d like to get a Bumbo, but Hub thinks they are stooooopid.
4. Does it seem like I’m missing any newborn necessities? Even with all the stuff I already have, I feel like I’m forgetting something.
5. I’m cleaning out our room this weekend and we’ll move the bassinette in within the next few weeks. I need to wash the linens but will save that for last; or at least I won’t put them in for a while because the cats will think I’ve set up their bed. Until it smells like the baby, they’ve always camped in there, causing me to rewash EVERYTHING. They are jerks.
6. I need to wash the pad for the carseat/carrier.
7. And hose off the stroller and let it sit outside in the sun to dry. It’s GRODY.
8. I’m trying to refrain from buying any more clothes, despite the Monster Sale at TCP. I may cave and buy the overalls for $4.99. I’m actually probably going to drive out to the Outlet in Niagara Falls this weekend to see what I can get. She probably has like, 30 outfits though—and really, where is she going?
9. My bag is mostly packed—I do need some new nursing bras. Does anybody have any suggestions? I have the sport type ones for around the house, but I definitely need something more supportive (but with no wires because they cause my ducts to clog, YAY) for leaving the house. I also need to buy something to wear at the hospital. I’m so mad at Old Navy for discontinuing the matching outfits I was buying for baby and me. You know, these:
10. When I type it all out, it really doesn’t seem like a whole lot. Is there something obvious that I am forgetting here?
Signs That You Are SO Done with this Pregnancy Crap
• You have to pee 453 times per day but nothing more than a trickle comes out. But somehow, if you cough or sneeze, it seems like a gallon leaks out.
• Even with DD’s you seem flat chested compared to your bulbous belly
• When your husband tells you that you look nice, you scoff as in “Yeah right!!”. When he says that he means it, you burst in to tears.
• You are glued to The Discovery Health Channel and are convinced that everything on TV is happening to you.
• Odd body parts have begun to sweat.
• You have run out of polite responses to comments such as “Oh yes, you are definitely bigger than yesterday!” or “Gosh, you are going to pop any second. Are you due in the next few days?” and instead say through gritted teeth “Actually I have at lease 6 more weeks to go. And until you said something, I didn’t really feel any bigger than I did yesterday. So thanks for your input.”
• Public bathroom stall doors bang you in the belly as you try to maneuver in to the stall.
• Your facilities manager, who has made arrangements for you to park right up front in Customer Parking so that you don’t have to park ¼ of a mile away next to the dumpsters every morning, thinks it is hysterical to make comments about calling off the tow trucks for that blue van up front every time he sees you.
• When your husband suggests that maybe your sonogram will reveal that the baby is of normal size and we really do have 8 weeks to go, you have to fight (hard) the urge to punch him in the gut.
• Because your first two pregnancies were so close together, acquaintances at work have sort of merged them together. You can see shock and disbelief when they realize it is your third. Then they make offhanded remarks such as “Wow, 3 under 4! You’ll have your hands full!” Listen bitches, my hands have been full since the first one was born. STFU.
• Your maternity pants no longer stay up and you are constantly showing ass crack.
• You’ve given up caring that your hair is way too long AND that you have WAY too many scraggly greys.
• When your son wants to know how much older he will be than his baby brother who will come AFTER this baby, you throw up a little bit in your mouth.
• You wonder if at this stage in the game, consuming mass quantities of caffeine would really do any harm to the baby. You begrudgingly stick to your 1-2 cups per day.
• You would like to be able to eat toast or a cracker without getting heartburn.
• You know that as miserable as you are, it will be *SO* worth it in the end.
Barfathon 2008 (If you need me I will be asleep under my desk)
I woke to hear pounding feet, whimpering and then raucous vomiting in the bathroom. Even after I got to the bathroom it took my half-asleep brain a few seconds to register what was going on. There was Lucy, bent over the toilet, throwing up what seemed to be everything she’d eaten in the past month. I pulled her hair away from her face while she finished and dampened a washcloth to wipe her face. I asked whether she had thrown up in her bed (she hadn’t) and if her belly still hurt (it did) and I brought her out to the couch with me.
This was midnight and she proceeded to barf or dry heave every 10 minutes for the next three hours.
To her credit, Lucy is a champ when it comes to vomiting. She knows when it’s coming and gets herself to the toilet and does not make a mess. It’s no coincidence though; she spent all of last summer throwing up as she popped molars. She is home with Hub now, happily chattering away about how she “throwed up” and nibbling on some toast.
Needless to say, I am exhausted, but I dragged my butt in to work because I need to have 18 Performance and Development discussions completed before the end of the month. And since I only intend to be here through 6/23, I need to get cracking.
I am unsure how to handle Bud and the attitude he has developed recently. Everything is an argument. He is constantly telling me “I am so mad at you right now!!”. Yeah, he’s 4. Last night, when I told him it was time for bed, he argued. When I spoke to him about arguing with me, he whipped me in the face with Lucy’s blanket, in sheer anger. What does one do in that situation? My only urge was to burst in to tears because my baby boy wanted to physically hurt me. I kept it together and marched him in to bed and told him that I didn’t even know what to do with him. I told him he’d better go to sleep with no problems or there would be no Tae Kwon Do for 2 weeks. Hub disagrees with using Tae Kwon Do against him and says I should have taken away toys or TV. I still don’t know what to do. He was a pisser again this morning, demanding orange juice when I’d already poured him apple and I ignored him. He refused to drink and I refused to switch out the juice. I ended up buying him milk and 2 donut holes on the way to daycare and I felt like a schlub. What kind of lesson am I teaching him? And also, hello Saly, choose your battles. I totally could have poured him orange juice. I’m feeling helpless because clearly I don’t know what he needs.
Mommy Time
After Lucy was born, I made sure to preserve special time with Bud. It usually occurred in the morning, before anyone else was up, we would sit on the couch and talk a bit before everyone’s day actually started.
As time has passed, Lucy has been the one to get up with me in the morning, though she is not a morning person. She is a ball of fury with fists clenched, puffy morning face and birds nest hair, typically throwing herself on top of me while maintaining a death grip on “blankie”. Our conversation is the same every morning:
“Hi baby girl, how was your sleep?”
“BAD!!”
She’ll snuggle for 5 minutes or so before she is ready to face her day. This morning was no different. She turned over so that she was cradled in my lap and turned her face up for a kiss. “There’s my baby girl”, I said, and she smiled. “Pretty soon, LuLu, you won’t be the baby anymore.”
“I know, I’ll be the big sister!” This thought clearly excites her. “I will help you with diapers! And sing songs to Olivia!”
I ask her what else she will do, and after thinking for a minute she asks if we can go to Target to pick out a binky for her. (Neither child has ever used a binky, but Lucy is obsessed with them.) “Sure”, I tell her, and she scrambles down to say good morning to the cats and the rocking horse, and everything else in her path.
Our day has begun.
Bud has actually worked himself in to an evening routine. This child is a night-owl and thrives on getting 8-9 hours of sleep, max. He waits for Lucy to fall asleep, and finds his way out to where I have curled up on the couch, and settles in beside me twirling his fingers through my hair.
“You should be in bed.”, I tell him.
“I can’t sleep….” is always his reply.
He talks about things that are on his mind, things that he won’t say during the day when he’s busy being a rambunctious 4-year-old, and last night was the same. He wants to know about the baby, why she’ll be wet and dirty when she comes out and will the doctor say ‘take a deep breath and push’ (darn you Discovery Health); will I scream like those ladies on TV (I have assured him several times that I will have lots of medicine so that it won’t hurt), is she as big as a toaster yet? (one of our books mentions that all curled up, the baby is about the size of a toaster, but I think he pictures a toaster-shaped baby in there) He asks if I remember things and kids from his old school, which he hasn’t attended for about a year now, and if I knew about the dreams he had about Swiper swiping his toys while he slept. We talk quietly before I tell him again that he needs to be in bed, and somehow, he convinces me to let him sleep in the living room with me. When I wake up around midnight, he has put himself to bed.
I check both children as they are sleeping, making sure they are not too hot or cold, feeling their chests rise and fall under one hand as I brush their hair away from their faces with the other.
I return to the couch and place my hand on my belly, where Olivia is now kicking vigorously. For the first time I am not worried about how she will change our dynamic, or how I will love her as much as the other two. She’ll fit in just fine, and easily fill the space in my heart, or the time in my day, that has been waiting all of this time just for her.
32-Week Visit and Weekend Recap
Well, unless something changes drastically, I will be working for 2 more weeks. The visit, which lasted all of 4 minutes, was pretty uneventful, save from discussing AGAIN that we probably want to induce the week of 7/21. She apologized for continuing to bring it up, but wants it to always be on the front page of my chart. Fine by me; let’s just get her out of there, kthanksbye. I also got my script for the big 36-week sonogram to see just how big she is. Hub wants me to wait to schedule it until he has his calendar in front of him; he wants to be there. Hopefully I’ll have it taken care of before the end of the day.
Headlines all weekend, actually since last Wednesday, have been “Summer Has Finally Arrived!!!”. Headline is not necessary; the 90 degree weather has kind of tipped us all off. Normally, I would not mind a bit. But dudes, it is hot. Hub had the AC working by the time I got home on Friday though, so I have only been moderately miserable.
Hub and Bud did the big Crash-O Rama!! on Saturday and Lucy and I ended up at The Cheesecake Factory with my parents. Lucy was a sourpuss through most of dinner, until the server brought her a tiny dish of vanilla ice cream as we ate our cheesecake. Once my parents were gone, she was fine. We decided to walk through the mall for a bit—after she demanded to rent a race car buggy—and found ourselves at JCP where I bought Bud 6 pairs of shorts and 4 nightgowns for Lucy and spent only $42. I feel like my summer shopping is finally done. We then walked back to The Cheesecake Factory so I could pick up a slice of cheesecake to bring home for Hub. By the time we were home it was nearing 9:30, and Lucy insisted on wearing one of the new nightgowns to bed.
I don’t know what it was about the nightgown that made her seem so grown up. There she was in her big-girl bed, tangled in her blankets, her legs seeming so long—she seeming so old—and I was overcome with emotion. My baby girl is so not my baby anymore. In a little more than 2 months, she will have already been a big sister for a few weeks, and she will turn 3. My baby girl.
It was overcast and muggy yesterday afternoon, but we decided to pack a small picnic and head to the park anyway. We had good intentions of walking through the woods, but Hub and I watched the kids on the playground from our seats in the back of the van, and then we all shared ham sandwiches, chips and Doublestuff Oreos before taking a few more trips down the slides and heading for home. The kids slept on the 30-minute car ride, but we had them rest for a bit when we got home as well. Truth be told, Hub and I were exhausted.
The sun came out in the late afternoon, and Hub did some yard work (which included an unplanned event of cutting our front bushes down to stumps because “he hates them” [never mind how I feel about them]) while the kids played with the hose (note to self, buy each child a second pair of water shoes to take to daycare) and I cut meat and veggies for shish kabobs in the kitchen. Hub grilled and we had a late dinner and had the kids in bed and sound asleep by 8:30.
It was my kind of weekend, eventful without actually being eventful. Hub’s goal for this week is to completely finish the kitchen so that we can eat Father’s Day dinner together at the table.
Mine is to get more than 4 hours of sleep in a night.
Friday Free For All
• I have been leaning more and more toward Lynne for a middle name for this baby. Lynne is my middle name and I think it flows well with what we have chosen. Hub, per usual, has concerns. Bud shares Hub’s name. Lucy is just Lucy, and this baby will have part of my name. He feels as if in the future Lucy could feel wounded. My argument is that Lucy was given the girl’s name that I had pined for since I was in 9th grade. Doesn’t that count for something? Does anyone else feel like Hub thrives on conflict???? Ok that might be the heat talking, but jeeze!
• Speaking of the heat Hub did not get the AC on yesterday. It was a miserable night—to the point where he offered to at least take care of the bedroom (where up until last night I have not slept in for 3 weeks but that’s where the ceiling fan was) when he got home at 3am. I am not going to be a happy girl if it is not taken care of when I get home today.
• I took a trip to Chez Target on my lunch yesterday, looking for comfy, nursing appropriate hospital wear, and ended up leaving with 2 swimsuits for Lucy, 2 swim trunks for Bud, croc-style water shoes for each of them (which I swore I would NEVER buy, but they were $5.99 and very cute), sunglasses for me, and a cloth hobo-style bag that I converted in to a purse (it’s blue with teeny butterflies on it). No hospital clothes though. I liked nothing.
• I like how a lot of you picked up that I actually am a child hater in my last post. Some of those kids at daycare are just plain ANNOYING! I’m just not a fan of Bud telling people that I hate someone specific. (Speaking of my last post, I think I actually got a spam comment for Japanese porn.)
• I could have punched this lady out at daycare this morning, by the way. There are 2 PC’s where you sign your kids in and there she is holding her child (younger than Lucy, 18-mos or so), and having him touch the screen and look for letters and their name. I appreciate her trying to educate her baby, but the time and place for it is NOT when I am trying to get my already late ass to work. I kid you not, 5 other parents used the other computer while she used the one. And I, the poor planner, stood behind her thinking she’d be done any second while these other parents used the other one. Finally, when it was free, I stormed to the other one in a huff and shot daggers at this woman as I pounded my information in to the screen.
• Bud and Hub are going to Crash-O-Rama!! tomorrow and Lucy and I are doing something with my parents. Dinner will be involved but for the life of me I can not pick a place. Nothing sounds good—I’m tired of the American bar and grill experience. I just want something different and delicious.
• I’ve felt pretty good at work this week—I’m not sure if I’ve felt good enough to tell the doctor I can make it for another 2 when I see her on Monday, but in all, I’ve felt good. I kind of feel obligated to stay for a bit, since my boss was just dealt a huge personal blow and may be off of work for a bit. She’s taking things day by day and so am I.
I know, I’ve been Debbie Downer lately, all wah wah, woe is me, I’m pregnant and whiny and annoying. Sorry guys, I know. When I complained last week, about how 30 weeks sucks, Swistle pointed out that if you look at it in percentages, it might seem better. (It didn’t) I tried it out on Hub though because he’s probably more ready for this to be over than I am, and said “Hey, if you look at it another way, I am over 75% of the way there!” He didn’t buy it. Why? Because the last 25% is hell and outweighs the 1st 75% by at least half. Touché!
I am however, in love with the shape of my belly. It is round and perfect. I’d show you, but the stretch marks would be burned in to your retinas forever—so you’ll have to take my word for it. That’s the one thing I love about the end—there is no doubt in anyone’s mind that there is a baby in there. Despite my recent attitude, I actually feel, well, beautiful. This is what my body was meant to do and it is the greatest feeling in the world.
I have been home alone with the kids each night this week and it isn’t going well. They’re starting to realize that I can’t move as fast as I used to, and that I’ll put up with a little bit more because I’m exhausted. I’m trying so hard to be kind, and not let the pregnancy interfere with being a good mommy, but man it is hard. Last night ended with me picking all 43lbs of Bud up and placing him in his bed because when I told him to get going, he looked me dead in the eye and said “NO!”. When he screamed to get out, I shut the door. I could not take it for another second. BUT! I didn’t scream at him—I removed him (and myself) from the situation. We ended up talking about it after 15 minutes or so and he went to bed quick and easy for me.
Lucy though, was in some pit of despair and was weepy and whiny all evening. This carried on to bed time, and she ended up being awake until close to 11, lying on top of me as I slept on the couch. Finally, she told me she was going to bed, and got up and went herself. She was actually pleasant this morning—waking up and immediately asking “What if I was a toaster? Could I make my own pop tart??” [ARGH!!!], so I am not sure what the deal was.
And oh, I found out that Bud told all of the kids in his class that I do not like his friend Mia. He has been speaking in this high pitched whiny voice at home lately and when asked about it said that it was how his friend Mia spoke. I told him that I did not like his voice, but to him this means that I hate Mia, and to all of the 4-year-olds, I’m the mommy who hates other kids. OY.
Hub will be gone to work before I get home tonight. With the 90-degree weather we are expecting today and tomorrow, my only wish is that he gets the air conditioners in and working before I get home.
Or else I’ll be sleeping outside in the kiddie pool.
Sometimes….
-I wonder how well a request to have my family sit around nude for a few hours so that I could say with 100% certainty ALL–every.last.piece of the laundry is washed, dried and put away would be received.
-I feel bad that I don’t love my cats the way I did before the kids arrived.
-Or a lot of the time, I feel like Hub just doesn’t get it.
-Seeing the glorious new cupboards, counters and sink in my kitchen gives me a panic attack, because in some weird way, these things, more than anything else, have made me feel like a real adult.
-I feel like maybe I’m the only mother who (sometimes) can not stand to be around her own children.
-I cry after the kids have gone to bed because I haven’t used the kindest word or tones throughout the day.
-I get words stuck in my head, much like someone would get a song stuck in their head. Example: “Mandlebaum”
-But not too often, it bothers me that people mistake my quiet personality for bitchiness.
-I get major nervous tummy before doing something completely benign, like ordering a pizza
-Sitting and staring off in to space for 30 minutes or more calms and centers me, though Hub sees it as me being lazy.
-I wonder if my laid back, no regrets, I don’t care what anyone else thinks about me attitude is more of a sham than I lead people to believe.
-I worry that when my kids grow up they will dislike me, or not call.
-I worry about “what if they are not good people?”
-I make really downer-type lists (apparently)
Hello From Work!
So, I’m back at work. Hooray. I’m not exaggerating when I tell you it is near impossible to sit here with the back/hip pain. Maybe the whole 10 days off idea was a bad one. I miss my couch. I am back at the doctor one week from today though, to further assess the sciatica and whatnot, and I’m hoping I can be done.
That being said, I am banking on this week being my last at work and am tying up a lot of loose ends. Schedules and reports and making sure my responsibilities will be cared for properly in my absence. It’s going to be a real pain, but I think better than being pulled unexpectedly. I’m just going to work every day as if it’s my last, and keep my fingers crossed that the end is near.
I actually do miss work when I’m off though; there is so much camaraderie and plain old fun. Plus I have time to catch up with you Internets daily. It doesn’t happen at home, unless Hub is out of the house. He’s pretty sure that all of you are housebound middle aged male pedophiles. I don’t hide the blogging from him, but it’s better to do it when I’m alone.
We took our monthly trip to BJ’s yesterday and both had a minor panic attack when we realized that on our next trip we needed to buy diapers—OH THE HORROR!! They have boppy’s with cover there for $16.99 though, which I find to be a steal! I also finally made my list of the things we need to buy before she comes so we can whittle that down weekly. Who’d have thought the 3rd baby would be so expensive!
I also realized that in about 10 weeks, after Lucy’s birthday, I will have a 4-year-old, a 3-year-old and a newborn. Holy Hell, my friends.
Holy Hell.
Incubation Nation 