Circus!

We were fortunate enough to be given tickets to opening night at the circus last Wednesday. Girlie actually took a nap that day, which means, of course, that Boyo didn't. Still, we stupidly soldiered on and went to a 7:30 pm show... when bedtime is at 8.

Girlie was happy to sit on Daddy's lap and watch the show... until she fell asleep 45 minutes into it.

She was, however, really impressed when the elephant ate an entire loaf of bread.

Boyo was just happy to have MnM's.

When those were gone, however, he threw an hour long temper tantrum. It was epic. And we were trapped in the middle of the row, so we couldn't remove him. If you were sitting by us, sorry.

As for Baby K, well, let me put it to you this way. The only reason her eyes are open is because of the flash from the camera.


We left at intermission. :(

Maybe next year?

Wordless Wednesday

My son drew me a dinosaur. Um... where is it?

A Letter to my 14 year old Daughter

I wrote this while I was in the hospital with Baby K - I will give it to her on her 14th birthday.

~

To my darling daughter,

Happy "Birth"day, my sweet little one! I can hardly believe that you are here! Your father is snuggling with you on what passes for a couch at the hospital, and you are looking around, your eyes blurry and blue, wondering what on earth has happened to you. You were safe and warm in your dark little world, and now you are surrounded by light and noise and it must be very, very confusing to you. I am amazed that you are not crying - I know I certainly would be. I sense an inner strength and calm about you, and I can't help but wonder if I am looking at the beginning of your personality.

Instead of fussing though you turn your perfect little head to whatever new noise you hear or light you see, and a quizzical expression comes over your face. I cannot wait to show you this new world, my darling, and to teach you how to navigate it.

I must tell you, my sweetheart - you were completely, totally, 100% worth the wait. You were worth the bedrest, the tests, the medication, the worry -- you came in your own time, and you are perfect. I hope that you never feel as though I didn't want you - you are brilliant and the only things I can honestly say I wanted as much as I wanted you are your brother and sister.

After you were born, your father and I studied your tiny little nose, your wrinkled little ears, your delicate hands and your perfect little eyebrows. We looked into your precious blue eyes and exclaimed over your dark, thick hair. We debated who you looked like - did you have your sister's lips or your brother's eyes? Did your hair come from your Gam-Gam? Finally, your father summed it up perfectly. "I know who she looks like," he declared. "She looks like herself."

And he's absolutely right. You do look like yourself. You are yourself. You aren't your sister or your brother. You are your own person, and I hope that I never forget that. I hope that I can remember that moment after your birth, when your father pointed out that you are yourself, for the rest of your life so that I do not make unfair comparisons to your brother and sister. And let's face it, any comparison would be unfair - to you and to them. You are yourself. You are brilliant. You are beautiful. And, most importantly, you are loved.

Welcome to the world, little one. I know you are ready to meet the it; I hope the world is ready for you.

I hope you know you can talk to me about anything.
Love,
Mom

Life with a Newborn

When you have a baby, your mind plays tricks on you. It makes you forget things about life with a newborn... things that if you didn't forget, you would never have any more kids.

Things like:

1. You will get maybe 10 hours of sleep in the first three days. No, not 10 hours a night... 10 hours of a 72 hour period.

2. Newborn babies sound like baby pterodactyls when they cry.

3. Meconium. Enough said.

4. 2 hours of sleep + feeding + 2 hours of sleep + feeding + 2 hours of sleep + feeding does NOT equal 6 hours of sleep. It equals 3, two hour stretches of sleep. This is not enough.

5. I am a human pacifier.

6. Newborns have an innate alarm that triggers screaming the moment your head hits the pillow.

7. Umbilical cords are gross.

8. You know that whole - "Sleep when the baby is asleep" rule? Yeah, you can't do that when you have two other kids.

9. People who say that a breast fed infant's poop doesn't smell are liars.

10. Newborns peel. I forgot that that they peel. My daughter looks like an alligator.

But the reason you have more kids, even after you forget 1-10 listed above? Because of this:

Wordless Wednesday

Girlie's Family Portrait - "The Girls" are on the left and "The Boys" are on the right.

Breastfeeding Myths, Rules, and Regulations

These are actual rules, regulations, and (what I have termed) myths that I actually heard from the nurses at the hospital. They refused to give me formula when I asked for it in desperation at 3 in morning the second day of life. They also refused to give me a binky for my daughter when I was getting carpel tunnel from letting her suck on my pinky for an hour. Their excuse? This is a "baby friendly hospital." Fine. Next time (if there is a next time), I'm going to a "mommy friendly hospital."

1. It doesn't hurt.

Bullsh@#. Right now, I'm claiming BS. Now, if you were to rephrase - it doesn't hurt after the first 3 weeks -- yes, that I can get on board with.

2. Your baby will know what to do; after all, it's natural. Listen to your baby.

Oh, this is a WAAAAAAAY bigger lie than number one. How is the kid, who gets scared when it sees it's own hand, going to know what to do? It's a learning process for both Mommy and Baby.

3. Once your milk comes in, everything will be easier.

Except for the fact that engorgement hurts. And makes you look like a porn star.

4. Don't give bottles to the baby until week 4 - you don't want to create nipple confusion.

True. But I also need to sleep. So the kid is getting a bottle once a night. I don't think my baby is stupid; she'll figure out pretty quick that Mommy's "equipment" is different than a bottle. And getting a bottle once a day won't scar her for life or make her refuse my breast. I did this with my son, and you know what - I got over my PPD that much faster when I could SLEEP FOR FIVE HOURS STRAIGHT.

5. Don't give binkies to the baby until week 4 - for the same reason as number 4. After all, God gave your child (hopefully) 10 "natural" binkies - her fingers.

My parents, the gap in my teeth, $7000 in orthodontia, and the fact that I sucked my thumb until I was WAY too old would disagree with this rule. And knowing that my parents followed it and tried to give me a binky after 4 weeks (which I then refused, desiring my thumb instead), makes me disagree too. The kid gets a binky when she doesn't want to eat but still wants to suck - because letting her suck on me just makes me sore and cracked and bleed. And how do I know the difference? I just do. I'm her mom.

And that, right there, is my problem with all of these rules, regulations, and myths. If I hear one more time, "Well, the American Pediatrics Association recommends...," I may lose my mind. The American Pediatrics Association is not at my house at 2 in the morning when I'm engorged and hysterical because my daughter can't latch on and I. just. want. to. go. to. sleep. Nor is the APA around to take care of my other two kids when I'm running on 2 hours of sleep. Lastly, the American Pediatrics Association doesn't have to pay dental bills in 13 years.

The American Pediatrics Association can recommend. And I promise to take their recommendations seriously. But don't refuse to give me the help I'm requesting because the APA says so. The APA also said to drink a Guinness a day to encourage breast milk production 30 years ago and that formula was best 20 years ago. Give me the current information and let me make up my mind. I'll probably end up doing something in the middle - as long as it works for me and my child and my family.

After all, I'm the mother.

Welcome Little One!

~
Born at 11:59 pm on July 14, 2011



... At 7 lbs, 12 oz and 19 inches long...


... AND after 4 weeks of bed rest...


...Baby K has made her grand debut!


Welcome to the family, little one! We are so glad to meet you!

T - 18 hours

~
In 18 hours, I am going to be induced.

This has been a loooooooooooooooooooooooong day.

It feels like seconds are minutes, minutes are hours, hours are days, and today is a week long.

The thing is, toward the end of a pregnancy every day feels long. Every twinge, pain, gasp, contraction brings on a "Is this it?!" thought process. But it normally isn't and time still drags on, with you waiting, waiting, waiting...

I'm not good at waiting.

My husband and I went to the doctor today... he checked me. Baby K is not "engaged" but I am 1 cm dilated and 100% effaced. So tomorrow at 8 am, when he is the doctor on the floor, he will induce me.

He seems worried that the pitocin won't work. I tried to reassure him - I was given pitocin with both of my other kids and once they got that fun drug pumping into me, I gave birth within 7 hours. But he is laying out all sorts of alternate plans, in case the pitocin won't work. It's mildly frustrating/irritating. It's my body and I know it will work, but he doesn't seem to hear me.

So we wait. And I'm antsy. My mom is here to help with the kids - so my husband and I got to go to breakfast and a movie. But now it's 2:30 in the afternoon and he and my mom are out running around with the kids and I'm bored and thinking about tomorrow.

I know I should rest, or read, or relax. But I just can't seem too. I'm a bundle of nervous energy, waiting for tomorrow morning, waiting to meet my daughter, waiting for something to happen.

How am I going to get through the next 18 hours?

Ain't Technology Grand?

~
My fridge broke last week. On Thursday. At 3 pm.

Thankfully, we have a smaller fridge in our garage. Double thankfully, we have the extended warranty that expires August 15, 2012.

So I mistakenly thought it would be a simple matter of a phone call to get a tech out on Friday to get it fixed.

HaHa! Silly Shannon.

I called the first company that the service contract gave me. They promised that they would come out and fix it on Friday, between 12-5.

I mistakenly thought that matter was solved.

HaHa! Silly Shannon.

I canceled the cleaning service we had coming out on Friday. I moved all of my frozen/refrigerated foods to the garage. What didn't fit, I put in my neighbor's fridge.

And then I waited, mistakenly thinking my fridge would be fixed in 24 hours.

HaHa! Silly Shannon.

Word of advice - Coastline Appliance out of Huntington Beach is NOT the way to go. Here's my review of them.

The tech showed up, poked around the fridge, and then turned to me and said "Yup, it's broken."

I knew that, dude.

But he wasn't done. "So I'll turn in the paperwork on Monday and we'll get it fixed next Thursday."

Okay, no. Just no.

I very nicely explained to him that there were three problems with his plan:

One, as a diabetic, I need a working fridge to keep my insulin cold.
Two, as a mother with two small children, I need a working fridge to keep their milk readily accessible.
Three, and perhaps most importantly, I'm having a baby on Thursday.

The tech said, "Huh. Well, okay. I wouldn't do any shopping if I were you." And LEFT.

My husband was home and was able to keep me from lunging after the tech. I don't know what I would have done if I had caught him. Maybe sat on him until he agreed to fix the fridge.

At this point, it's Friday at 3 pm. I figured we were screwed until Monday.

Luckily, my husband is not 9 months pregnant and is still capable of thinking logically. He called the warranty company and got a new list of companies whom he began methodically calling. He found a company that agreed to come out on Saturday, given our time constraints.

The new tech showed up Saturday at 11. He cleaned out the back of the fridge, fiddled with it a bit, and got it working. In 20 minutes.

He did point out that this was a patch job, but it would get us through the weekend. And that the company would send out a new tech on Tuesday to fix the fridge for good.

Riddle Appliances. Totally the way to go.

And the other guys - Coastline? I think they knew I was upset, because they called to tell me they could come back out today to fix my fridge. I explained that we wouldn't be doing business with them because of their lack of professionalism, their inability to communicate, and their inability to fix our fridge.

The customer service lady said, "Huh. Well, okay," and hung up.

Is that their standard response over there?

And we finally have a plan....

~
The doctor's visit yesterday showed that Baby K is doing great. She's happy, moving, growing, and healthy. And, for the first time in a month, there is amniotic fluid on both sides of her, which makes my OB very, very happy.

She has also "dropped" (right on top of my bladder) and is getting into the ready to be born position. Her tush is up, her head is down, and her back is facing my stomach.

I'm ready to rock and roll. Doctor said she's not quite there yet.

So bed rest continues (son of a b#$%@) because as much as I'm losing my mind, it's working. I went to the doctor yesterday, prepared to demand either an induction or a lift from bed rest. I got neither.

I, however, am not doing so great. My blood pressure is slowly climbing and my blood sugar numbers - while they still aren't as low as they were before I went into the hospital - are covering a wide range -- from 80-190. This is not good. They should be consistently between 90-120.

So we have an end game in sight -- if she doesn't decide to be born on her own by next Thursday, my OB is forfeiting the game and going in after her.

Either way, I'll be holding my sweet little girl in a week.

My Neighborhood and Bedrest...

~
Since I'm on lockdown, I've noticed some things about my neighborhood that I would not normally know, since I'm usually running all over creation with my two monkeys. I knew my neighborhood was made up of three types of homes - rentals, young families trying to get their start, and old people who have been here since the beginning of time and enjoy making my life hell (i.e, the housing association board).

For instance...

The house on the corner? College kids who rent. Who leave their beer cans in their front yard. My housing value just plummeted.

The teenagers who live in the house five doors down? They keep a bong hidden in the bushes across the street. My friend actually called the cops on them.

My next door neighbors? It's a clown house. We aren't sure how many people are living in that four bedroom rental. We do know that they have a baby over there because it cries ALL NIGHT LONG. And that they have two dogs that they don't let in the house. So they bark ALL DAY (and night) LONG.

The president of the HOA? Who lives on the other side of the complex? I caught her measuring my grass last week.

The little old man who lives in the court down the street? He walks his dog around the neighborhood so his dog can "visit" his doggie friends. He does this at my son's naptime. The barking that ensues means that my son doesn't nap.

I'm never going to be able to sell this place.

Happy Birthday America! I hope you enjoy your Tinkerbell candle.

~
Today's the Fourth of July.

It's my absolute favorite holiday (that doesn't involve presents, if we are being honest).

And as a history teacher, with her MA in Colonial America, this is one holiday that I really want to try to make special for my kids.

We normally go to a bbq, eat the required hamburgers, hot dogs, and potato salad, see the parade and go to the carnival, then head over to the family fireworks festival where we live. The kids get to stay up late and watch the fireworks and I tell them the (watered down) version of America's Independence and the story of Molly Pitcher (I leave out the part about Molly Pitcher being a drunk).

We don't get to do any of that this year because of the bedrest mandate. We are having a bbq at home, but there will be no fireworks, parade, or any other family traditions. To try to make up for this, I tried to put it into a different context for them: I told them that the Fourth of July is America's birthday.

My son immediately asked for cake.

This was an idea I could totally get behind.

I found a recipe for diabetic cake (um, yum, I guess) and pulled out all the ingredients. We were about to start a new family tradition - birthday cake for America's birthday.

Girlie threw a fit. "NO!" she declared, stomping her foot. "We DO NOT make cake for America. Her MOMMY makes her cake. And they have Tinkerbell candles and a Tinkerbell balloon."

Okaaaaaaaaay.... Great Britain? We would like a chocolate cake with pink frosting, please. And sprinkles. And a Tinkerbell candle. And a balloon.

Thanks.

Happy Independence Day, everyone!

"The United States is the only country with a known birthday."
- James G. Blaine

He has WAAAAAAAAY more patience than I do...

~
I've documented my children's penchant for saying "Why?" constantly.

Sure enough, the Why-Monster raised it's ugly head again today.

Girlie: "What are you doing to my brother?"

Dear Husband: "Changing his diaper."

Girlie: "Why?"

DH: "Because he peed."

Girlie: "Why?"

[I should interject at this point, I would have said, "Because he's a little boy." And when Girlie responded with why again, I would have shot back with with a "Because God made him that way." And if I got another why, I would have shut it down with "You'll have to ask God." Not my husband. Oh no. He followed this through to the bitter end.]

DH: "Because he drank a lot of water."

Girlie: "Why?"

DH: "Because it's hot outside."

Girlie: "Why?"

DH: "Because it's summer."

Girlie: "Why?"

DH: "Because this hemisphere is closer to the sun right now."

Girlie: "Why?"

DH: "Because it's a cycle."

Girlie: "Oh."

My husband's a show off.