The Mother's Lamentations:

Seriously. A tangent post.

2011-10-08T09:06:00.000-07:00

For some reason, my blog has seriously taken the back burner in my life. And when I say back burner, I mean the back burner on some stove in someone's possibly abandoned house that I've never been to before. I've been turning into a ravenous crafter of late (and spending most of my online time perusing Etsy for ideas or Ravelry for patterns). I'm definitely more likely to have a crochet project in my lap than a new post idea in my head. Maybe because it's much more brainless? And I really feel like this stage of parenting has totally decimated my thinking powers. Some of the things I've had running through my mind lately have been: Why do toddlers like to eat crayons? And how do I get a specific one to stop? And speaking of eating and stopping, how do I get this toddler to stop biting? And how am I going to piece that reconstructed shirt dress together? And how do I get my kids to play nicely? And should I take a nap today? And how do I keep this crazy toddler from getting into everything and climbing onto everything and whining about everything and begging to nurse 24/7 and messing up everything that I clean withing .02 seconds of me cleaning it?

As you can see, I have a lot of questions about how to have the perfect toddler. And by perfect toddler, I mean a responsible adult in a toddler body.

Basically, the toddler stage is by far my least favorite of the stages I have encountered. (I'm sure people will tell me that teenagers are worse, but in my particular stage of life, I really don't know if I can accept that.) I think having a toddler is harder because I also have a preschooler who still acts like a toddler sometimes....and hasn't quite figured out how to play nicely.

And speaking of preschool, some of my friends from church and I have put together a joy school for our preschool aged children. We meet once a week at our church building and we take turns teaching about letters, numbers, shapes, colors, and various other topics. It's pretty exciting that Bug is old enough for this type of stuff! And I really love being so involved!

Shortly after celebrating Gizmo's first birthday, we cut his hair. It was a sad and difficult thing for me to do. I loved his curls so much! But, everyone was calling him a girl, and the hubby didn't appreciate that. So he said the curls had to go. The really sad thing, though, is that people still call Gizmo a girl...even without the curls. I guess he's just pretty.

And speaking of pretty, we let Bug pick out his own Wii remote (because he's learning how to play Mario, and that's awesome and fun) and he chose a pink one. There's actually something that I really love about having a boy who has the favorite color of pink!

Bug is really growing up! He reminds me all the time. ("Mom. Me big, right?") I am thrilled that he is totally potty trained. He sits in a booster seat in the car (and even buckles his own seat belt sometimes!) But he is turning into a total drama....king? He fake laughs. He fake whines. He fake cries. And he exaggerates practically everything. (His coloring isn't right...."OOooooohhhh man!!!! I haaate that!!!") I've started having to remind him that if something frustrates him, then he needs to put it down and walk away. He isn't very good at remembering that, though. If the hubs talks to him, when he was talking to me, he says, "Don't talk to me! I talking to mommy!" Or if he goes to the bathroom (usually when he's pooping) and I ask him -anything- he will yell, "DON'T TALK TO ME!" Like I said. Drama.

And Gizmo is growing up. Or at least climbing up. He climbs on EVERYTHING. Bookshelves, kitchen cabinets, bathroom drawers, computer desk, beds, tables, chairs. He is either a monkey, or he has sticky tree frog pads on his hands and feet, because he climbs onto things I had no idea he could. His balance is impeccable! And my nerves are always on edge.

So....that's what's up right now....and now I need to go crochet some more.

New Pictures Added Not just another day

2011-08-24T07:41:00.000-07:00

Ok, ok, ok....I couldn't NOT post today (and I'm wondering how on earth I've let myself go so long...again).

Today is Gizmo's first birthday! We actually celebrated on Monday night with family. I made a super yummy carrot cake and I actually frosted it! (I didn't frost Bug's cake...er, pumpkin bread...when he turned a year old. I must be relaxing my parenting style already!) I still think Gizmo might have liked the roasted potatoes for dinner better than he liked the cake, though.

I am really struggling to accept the fact that it HAS been a whole year since I birthed my second child. I don't know if it is just because every year seems to go faster no matter what, or because of some other reason. I suspect that because Gizmo was born at home, and I'm home all the time, it seems like it could have been any time (yes, even just yesterday)! When Bug was born, I was at the hospital. That out-of-home experience gave me more of a frame of reference for how long ago it actually occurred. But I didn't get that (thankfully) with Gizmo's birth.

So, a little about Gizmo's personality: He is really laid back. Don't get me wrong, he is still very active (climbing on the table, walking at 10 months, etc). But he isn't hyper-active (like Bug). It's a bit harder to get him to laugh, and when he does laugh, it is usually more reserved. Although, when he is upset, he definitely lets it all out!!! He is a thinker and observer. I often say that when the boys get into trouble when they are older, it will probably be Gizmo who thought up the plan, and Bug who carried it out.

Gizmo has wild, red hair. We haven't cut it yet, even though it is getting long, because it curls all over the place. It gets him A LOT of attention. It also, apparently, makes him look "too pretty to be a boy", because he gets called a girl quite often.

Gizmo is a pleasure to have in the family. I'm so happy to be him mom! Happy Birthday, Gizmo!!!

(*The original picture from this post was from over a month ago, so, after taking new pictures, I removed it and added some of the new pictures from Gizmo's actual birthday.)

On the move. On the table.

2011-07-19T12:44:00.000-07:00

Bug and Gizmo are very different, but at times, so very alike. Bug was....is....very physically active. And hyperactive. Gizmo seems to be just as physically active as Bug, but he is so much more mellow about it. Or maybe just quieter about it? I can't really tell. It just seems that his physical milestones are less in-your-face than Bug's were....in a different way than the "Oh, he's just the second one, so you don't notice as much" kind of way.

Gizmo started walking withing the past two weeks or so. It started out with just two or three steps in between over enthusiastic family members. Then he started taking more steps, moving from the couch to a toy in the middle of the room.

Now he can walk quite a bit without grabbing onto anything. And he stands up on his own, too.

Of course, if you notice him and give him praise, he gets really excited....which apparently shuts off his balance completely. Then he will stand up, fall, stand up, fall, stand up, take two steps, fall...all while flapping his arms with joy and grinning like a maniac.

This morning, while I was making a pie, I head Bug sternly telling Gizmo, "No Gizmo! No climbing! My water!!!" I turned around and Gizmo was ON THE TABLE!!!! Our kitchen table. Apparently, he had used a stuffed animal as a stepping stool onto a chair that was pushed out, and then from the chair climbed onto the table. And he was about to dump Bug's cup of water everywhere, right before I intervened.

I have to admit, I was shocked to see Gizmo up there. He isn't even 11 months yet (just 5 more days for that), and he climbed onto our table! Without me noticing until he was up there! I actually shut him out of the bathroom this morning while I took my shower....I'm just beginning to realize that might have been an unwise decision. I guess I'll have to start making sure chairs are all pushed in before I leave Gizmo to play by himself for longer than 2 minutes! But then I'm sure he'll find something else dangerous to climb on!

Bug sings the ABCs

2011-07-01T05:00:00.000-07:00

Bug has been learning his ABCs. And he loves to sing them. Except....he's really not that great at it. It usually goes something like this:

"A, B, S, 9, 10, 18, a wunney, A, B, S, O, P, orange, X, Y, Z....."

Over and over and over again. I haven't quite figured out how his alphabet seems to have WAY more letters in it than mine does (and it also has way more numbers, colors, and made up words that resemble real words). Sometimes he starts out singing "Twinkle, twinkle little star" and it turns into his alphabet. Which, you can't blame him for that, since it's the same melody. It's actually all unbearably cute, though. So cute that my little sister recorded it on her phone for her ring tone.

I just have to keep telling myself that someday, he will be a genius and all this hassle of learning numbers, letters, shapes, colors, animals, etc. will get sorted out!

Intestinal Revenge

2011-06-29T05:00:00.000-07:00

Warning: This may be one of my less enjoyable posts...especially if you are reading during a meal!

A couple weeks ago, I enjoyed some pepper jack cheese. I -love- pepper jack cheese. Unfortunately, whenever I eat jalapenos, Gizmo get the most disgustingly stinky poop and farts known to all mankind. It's actually quite amazing how a little bit of pepper can affect him so strongly...though my milk.

Nonetheless, I ate my burger with pepper jack, and Gizmo enjoyed a raisin, a green olive, and some bread.

Then, just over a day later, I sent my hubby on an airplane to Texas for a week...and Gizmo started having diarrhea. Stinky, mucous-y, blood-tinged diarrhea. I was near tears thinking about spending any amount of time with a sick kid and an absent husband.

But I was unsure what was really going on in those little baby intestines. Jalapenos had never caused such a bad reaction before. Could it have been the raisin? The olive? Those were new food items for Gizmo. Maybe it was a triple whammy of pepper/raisin/olive distress. Or was it a virus? Whatever it was, I hoped it would quickly get better. And as I Googled, I got more worried about the presence of blood in my kiddo's dipe...and I got more prepared to make a visit to the pediatrician.

But the runs kept coming. And then came the diaper rash on top of it. We were not a happy mother/baby pair.

Then, after a couple days of pain-in-the-butt diaper changes, out came a hard, solid....popcorn kernel! And all the sudden, the symptoms started clearing up. After going though nearly a whole (and huge, I might add) box of diapers, and a whole tube of Desitin...things started to get better.

I can easily blame my husband for this horribly exhausting mishap....because I am never the one that makes the popcorn in our home (and I -very, very rarely- eat it). But, that lucky guy, he didn't have to change a single one of those wretched diapers.

Bad Neighbor/Awesome Mom

2011-06-27T05:00:00.000-07:00

As spring turned into summer, the heat started rising and rising, and all the local pools opened. But, we don't have (free) access to any local pools. And I'm cheap. And lazy. So, instead, I decided to put up our very own splash pool outside.

There are just a few things to note about this situation.

1. We live in an apartment complex.
2. We live on the top floor.
3. We do have a downstairs neighbor.

I tried to do this the smart way. We bought the smallest kiddie/wading pool available (splashing all summer from home for only $6.99? Yes, please!) I thought about putting a tarp down on our deck first...but I neglected to do that when I first started filling the pool. Of course, I decided it needed to be done once Bug dumped nearly a whole bucket full of water down to our neighbor's patio below. So, I emptied the little pool and got out our tent tarp. It easily covers the whole splash area (which is pretty much the whole deck, minus some room for our camp chairs/mini grill/tiny stack of firewood/bag of charcoal).

With the tarp down and in place, I was able to fill up the pool again. And then I sat out there with a book while Bug made big splashes, and Gizmo crawled in and out of the pool. (Of course, I also had to keep getting Gizmo and returning him to the pool when he tried to touch anything he shouldn't...mostly our baby bird nest....which is another post that I'm hoping to get up soon.)

Within a week of having our splash pool up, an apartment complex notice went out reminding upstairs neighbors that what they did above would affect those below (pinpointing water as one of the things to be polite about). Er...we were feeling guilty, and a little like the notice was directed at us. But, then the hubby talked directly to our neighbor about the water. She said she noticed a little (I'm assuming the initial non-tarp dump) but it wasn't bothering her. Phew! Of course, she is so nice, she probably wouldn't tell us. But, I think the splashing has been kept very minimal now that we have the tarp down.

All in all, I'm probably a horrible neighbor. But there is no denying that I'm an awesome mom! (If only I could now keep Bug from deliberately peeing in the pool!)

Who doesn't love chocolate ice cream?

2011-06-25T05:53:00.000-07:00

When my mom tells me that she misses my blog....I guess it's time to sit down and type up a post. (Where the HECK has my motivation gone???) And I have a list of nearly a dozen post ideas, so I really have absolutely no excuse.

A friend of mine had a baby 10 weeks ago. She had invited me to attend the birth, but due to unfortunate circumstances, I couldn't get a babysitter to watch my kids, so I couldn't go. And 7 weeks later, I still hadn't had a chance to meet the new baby. So, we marked our calenders and got our butts over there! I tell you what, I don't understand the fertile-aged woman who can hold a tiny baby and -NOT- have a pang in her ovaries to have a[nother] baby! Gizmo is over nine months now, so I can have a baby any time and he'll definitely be in nursery by the time the baby comes. (Every LDS mom knows how nice that is, right?) Alas, I guess things will have to wait a bit longer before we have another one, though. 'Cause no matter how much those dang ovaries of mine are panging, they are the servants of my breastfeeding relationship with Gizmo....who says "no baby yet".

But that isn't the point of this post. I just can't get over how cute and tiny new babies are, and how much I really want another one.

So, we were visiting with friends. We ate dinner. We talked. We ate chocolate ice cream with brownies. We let the kids (minus the tiny baby) run around and play. We sat at the table to play a card game (Bohnanza anyone?). Then, my friend's sister (who lives in the household) came home. She walked into the kitchen...which is right by where we were playing cards and -totally- visable to us....and exclaimed, "Oh, hello!"

There was Gizmo. On the floor. With a bowl of Bug's chocolate ice cream remains over his face.

He had chocolate ice cream all over his face. All over his hands. All over the floor. And he was sad to see it go when we took it away and cleaned up the mess.

Apparently, Bug left his bowl on the stool he was sitting on, and Gizmo was just tall enough to reach it. And he knew he needed to be stealthy. We had no idea what was happening just 6 feet away!

But who can blame him? It was chocolate ice cream!!

Let's Eat!

2011-05-24T14:17:00.000-07:00

This is a shameless plug for a new blog I created on a blog I already have established. ('Cause I can do that!) I have been trying to share recipes with some of my friends and family members. But, of course, I don't have them all typed on the computer. Then I type an email for one person, only to realize I want to send it to someone else, too. So I have to find the sent email, or retype...and before I know it, I'm trying to share one recipe for half a dozen people through half a dozen emails and typings of the same recipe. I just knew I was making it way more complicated than it should have been (and who needs that when you are a busy mother!!?!) So I will now just put all these yummy recipes in one spot, and I'll stop worrying about sending emails. I am pleased to introduce: Tasty Thalman's! Go check it out!

'cared more!

2011-05-20T09:42:00.000-07:00

Every now and then, I have one of those mothering moments that makes me laugh....and then promptly makes me feel bad for laughing.

Last night, The Hubs put Bug down to sleep with a bedtime read. Bug hadn't had a nap all day, so he was more than ready for bed. He actually kicked Hubby out of his bedroom before the Hubs was even done reading his chapter! Thinking that we were finally ready to get some semi-alone time (depending on how quickly Gizmo fell asleep), the Hubs and I were quickly brushing our teeth before jumping into bed....when all the sudden I heard Bug crying and running to our door. Then he was frantically trying to open our bedroom door, while screaming and pounding in terror.

I rushed to open the door to soothe him and take him back to bed.

"Loud! 'cared! [scared]" he cried in between his desperate sobs. I could practically feel the energy coursing through his little body, trying to escape from the fear that he was feeling.

I was thinking over all the reasons he could be so terrified. I could hear a lawn mower outside, but I wasn't sure that was the culprit. With Bug in my arms, I marched back to his bedroom. I ran into the door, then fumbled with the knob in the dark, trying to get it open.

"Beep-bee-beep! Beep-bee-beep! Beep-bee-beep!" It was the sound of the alarm clock. I flipped the light on and walked over to the table where the clock was dangling over the edge by its cord. I turned the offending noise off and stifled a giggle.

I don't know why the clock's alarm was turned on, but Bug certainly wasn't expecting such a rude awakening just moments after he fell asleep! I plopped him back in his bed as Hubby removed the offending alarm clock from Bug's room. We turned the lights back off and I sang Bug a song. I told him that he didn't have to be scared anymore, to which he whined, "'cared more!" along with a few after-cry hiccups. I calmly explained what had happened and then I asked him to say a prayer. He did, then requested that I say one, too. After kisses, hugs and several "goodnight"s, I crept out of the room and left Bug to fall asleep again.

As soon as I got back into my room, I looked at the Hubs and started laughing. "Poor kid!" we both lamented.

Ok, Ok...I'll find something to blog about!

2011-05-02T17:59:00.000-07:00

Obligatory "sorry I haven't posted in a million years" paragraph: I wish that I could just say, "Our life has been boring and normal, and I have absolutely nothing to blog about." But, we all know that is not true. I've just been a lazy blogging bum (not including working fabulously hard and losing 9lbs so far in my weight loss competition, of course).

But, we have some exciting news....well...it's excited if you're a dorky mom, like I apparently am! WE BOUGHT A MINIVAN! Oh yes. We did. I told my mom that I now feel this camaraderie with with all over van drivers. She just laughed at me. But it's true. I'm in the Minivan Club now. And my family would be way more excited to plan a fun and comfortable road trip if gas wasn't over $4/gallon!!!

Also, Gizmo has FIVE teeth now. He crawls at the speed of light. He pulls himself up to standing. And he can walk with support. Seriously, wasn't that kid just born five minutes ago? I don't understand how it is even possible that he is as grown up as he is!

Speaking of THAT...we just celebrated Bug's THIRD birthday yesterday. I think I might be living in a warped dimension. He loves the gifts he got....a tricycle (from Grandma and Grandpa T), a dinosaur puzzle, train whistle, canteen, new outfits (from Grandma Marty and Grandpa Mike), and a "You-bot" (which is Bug-speak for robot) backpack from Mommy and Daddy. He puts everything he can into the backpack to carry around...unfortunately, his bike doesn't fit.

So, tonight, when I was making dinner, the boys were playing together in the cabinets. Sometimes they play nicely. That is so refreshing. And they were doing just that. I heard Bug saying prayers. (They are almost always the same, "He'y Fodder. Day. Foo'. Jee Cwhyst, Uh-men.") I looked over and saw Bug putting his hands on Gizmo's head while he was saying his prayers. Then Bug excitedly exclaimed, "[Gizmo]! Prayer! A head!" Bug was definitely giving Gizmo a "blessing". Abso-stinkin-lutely hilarious! I guess he knows it is his divine nature to become a holder of the priesthood!

Bye, Bye Baby Weight!

2011-04-14T05:29:00.000-07:00

When I was pregnant with Bug, I gained 40lbs. After he was born, I was able to lose 30lbs of that baby weight.

Then we moved to a new apartment, and I mysteriously gained 20lbs. (Yeah, I know. What the heck?!) But, I lost 10lbs of that...

And then I got pregnant with Gizmo. And I gained 40lbs. And then lost 30lbs.

Are you seeing a trend? Of all the weight I gain, I can never seem to shed the last 10lbs of it. And I am 30lbs heavier than I was when I got married.

But now I'm changing things!

My mom (a twin, and consequently, a highly competitive woman) has blessed me with her competitive nature. And together, we are motivating each other to lose weight. We both need someone we love and trust to motivate us to lose it. We need a punishment for failure. We need a great reward for success.We need healthy competition. So we have formulated a weight loss competition:

We have one year to lose FIFTY pounds -each-. We will have weigh-ins every two weeks (using the same scale and time of day, for accuracy). For every one pound that I lose, she will put $5 in the weight loss pot. But, for every one pound that I gain, I will have to put $5 in the pot. And vice versa. Whoever loses their 50lbs first (or whoever has lost the most when the deadline has passed) wins the money from the pot. But, the loser won't be completely forgotten...they will get the dollar amount x2 of their weight lost (from the pot). And, of course, they will have all that wonderful weight lost (assuming they lose any)!

We discussed the advantages and disadvantages that we each had, wondering and hoping that this would be a fair (enough) competition. We decided that it is. My mom is older, and has lower metabolism, but she also has a bit more weight to lose. And she has better control over her time (meaning, she doesn't have young kids that will prevent her from getting her exercising done). I am younger, so I should have better metabolism. And I'm a nursing mother (which, according to different sources, could be a help....or not?) But I don't have to ability to get out to a gym (or park, or anywhere, for that matter) because we only have one car. And my exercise time if often cut into because of diaper changes, nursing sessions, and other kid necessities.

The only exit clause we have is me getting pregnant before the competition is over...which I don't think is going to happen. (And, we are keeping very good track of our money. It has all been set up in an Excel file and everything! So should we need to end the competition, I'll know exactly how much I should get back!)

My weight loss plan involves: eating a healthy and well-balanced diet, cutting out most refined sugars, exercising at least 30 minutes a day (which usually means doing the "Just Sweat-Intense" mode of Just Dance 2). I have practically eliminated desserts from my life...with the exception of Nutella, honey and fresh fruit. I even passed up chocolate in RS the other week! I eat my meals on a small plate, to help with portion control. Unless I am eating salad....I always give myself a big plate of salad! I am also trying to drink more water, (and I've cut out all other liquids, except for a glass of milk a day).

I am proud to say, that after a full month, I am down 5lbs! That is right on target with healthy weight loss goals (about 1lb/week). And my pants are starting to feel a little loose! Of course, my mom is down 8lbs, so I'm currently in second (er...last) place! But I'll take it!

I keep teasing my hubby that once I lose the 50lbs, I'll end up getting pregnant and I won't be able to really enjoy my sexy, new body! But, for now, I'll just keep up my good work and say, "Bye, bye baby weight!"

Thank you for everything! And you're welcome, too!

2011-03-31T09:44:00.000-07:00

My two year old is growing up. In fact, he's almost three.

And he is showing that he is growing up. Last week, he asked to help change Gizmo's poopy diaper. (And, remember, we know that when Bug says, "I hep you!" it really means, "Let me do it!") It was quite funny to watch Bug trying to wipe the baby's butt clean.

He also has started saying prayers. All by himself!! Ok...well, I do have to prompt him a little bit, after he's gone on and on and on saying the same things. ("Thank you. Thank you. Welcome. Thank you. Blue's Clues. Thank you. Play. Thank you." "You need to bless the food." "Food. Thank you.")

The first prayer he said by himself, he kept pausing after every word, wanting me to repeat it. I don't know if that is because that's how we taught him how to pray. Or if he wanted to make sure that I actually understood what he was saying.

Bug is also learning how to count on his fingers. He has been (kind of) counting to 10 for several months now. ("One, two, three, eight, nine, two"). But now he is learning to hold up his fingers. And...just weeks before his third birthday, we taught him how to hold up two fingers and tell people his age. Usually, when people ask him what his name is, he'll hold up his fingers and say, "TWO!".

Hopefully, if we make a big deal about his birthday, he'll transition easily to holding up three fingers!

Inch Worm

2011-03-17T05:54:00.000-07:00

Last Saturday (March 12th...for the record), at 6 1/2 months old, Gizmo turned into an inch worm.

It all started when I sat him down on the floor after nursing him. I probably needed to eat some lunch, or go pee, or wipe Bug's rear end for the 50 millionth time ("Poop, candy? Poop, candy?" He gets a piece of candy if he poops in the potty...which means he squeezes out a little bit of poop a gazillion times a day.)

Anyway, so I turned my attention away from Gizmo for a minute or two. And when I came back to him, he wasn't where I left him.

Hmmm....

So I wait and watch. And he is busy going after the wipes container on the living room floor. Or is it the crayon? But he scoots his butt up into the air, and then he slides forward. Butt up, body forward.

My 6 month old is crawling! Like an inch worm.

But he is crawling!

I can't believe it. This kid is so chill and relaxed, yet he is soooo fast at growing up. He already has two teeth, and now this?!

The inchworm has now turned more into an Army crawl with some inchworm-like tendencies. Either way, it means that Gizmo now frequently has crayon breath.

Please Research: Postpartum Depression

2011-03-11T08:50:00.000-08:00

She may seem completely normal to you. But inside, she's broken. Confused. Angry. Scared. Sad. Tired.

She has no motivation. She exhausts herself trying to get her daily chores done. She has trouble interacting with her kids as often as she knows she should. She knows her husband is sorely neglected. She can't form complete sentences. She feels that she has no friends. She can't sleep, even though that is all she wants to do. She gets angry about even the smallest of things. She often doesn't feel like cooking good food and sometimes doesn't want to eat at all. She feels guilty that she isn't well. She feels like she should be able to shake it off, but she can't. She has zero desire for physical affection. She doesn't show much interest, or take much time to enjoy, the things that she used to do all the time. She has headaches and body aches and heart aches. She's unhappy with the way she looks. And even more unhappy with the way she feels.

Sometimes she has good days. Days where she is happy and productive. But other days, she cries.

This is the life of a woman who suffers from Postpartum Depression (PPD).

PPD can happen to any woman. It can happen a couple weeks after the baby is born, or it can happen months after the baby is born (sometimes depression comes even a year after baby). And if it happens to you, don't feel as if you should have been able to prevent it. That will often make it feel worse.

Instead, start doing things that will make it better. This is definitely easier said than done, because those who have PPD have a hard time finding the motivation to -do- the things to help...even if they desperately want to get better.

First, you should tell someone, that you love and trust, how you feel. You NEED someone to be your anchor to reality. Ideally, this should be your husband. Make sure he doesn't go into "Mr. Fix-It" mode, though. Tell him that you need him as a sounding board. And help him know what ways you are comfortable with him helping (i.e. doing the dishes, making dinner, changing poopy diapers, practicing healthy living with you). You can also have your mother, sister, or a close friend be your anchor. Women, especially mothers, can often relate. They may have even suffered from PPD themselves. It might be hard to tell someone that you are depressed. It might make you feel ashamed or embarrassed. But once you feel like you don't have to hide your feelings any more, it will be easier to find ways to alleviate them.

Now you need to start figuring out how to feel better. This may seem like an impossible task. But pick something that you think seems easiest, and put your energy into doing it. It might help you find the energy to pick another thing off the list. Then another. And another. Until you find that you are back to feeling like yourself again. Here are some ideas for how to kick PPD to the curb:

-Focus on good nutrition: When you don't even feel like eating, or you would rather sit on the couch with a spoon and the sugar bowl, good nutrition can be really hard to fix. Start off by taking a vitamin supplement. Niacin, or Vitamin B3, is especially good for helping with depression. You can also continue taking your prenatal vitamins, these are really good if you are nursing. Then you can look into taking an herbal remedy for depression, such as St. John's Wort. Go to a health food store and find brands of vitamins that are minimally processed. (Or send your husband, because chances are you didn't feel like showering today...and getting out of the house may seem like too big of a task for you right now.) Once you start taking the vitamins, you might start feeling better. Whether it is a real effect or a placebo, it doesn't matter. You have your foot in the door of "better health". And now you can start eating better food. Cut out the junk foods and pre-packaged dinners. Eat lots of raw foods, fruits and veggies. Drink plenty of water. Minimize sugar intake. Try asking if your husband would be willing to cook dinner during the week, even if only on a couple days.

-Focus on light therapy: Fresh air and the shining sun can do wonders for improving mood. But getting ready and dressed for public (and getting all the kids dressed and ready for public) is not always easy. There are nap times and feedings and diaper changes to contend with. Or you don't have a car. And sometimes the sun -isn't- shining. Or sometimes it is too daggone cold. If you can't get out and about, try at least playing in the yard, if you have one. Or sitting out on a deck/balcony. At the very least, open the curtains and blinds to let the natural light into your house.

-Focus on exercise: If you can, combine exercise and light therapy and go for a walk outside. But if that seems too hard right now, try to find a quick and easy workout that you like...and just do it in your underwear at home. You could just put on some music that makes you want to move and dance around. If you have a toddler, it will be even more enjoyable, as those little guys love to dance.

-Focus on music: Like with exercise, upbeat music can help you get going. Put some music on, even without the plan to exercise to it, and see how it makes you feel. Or you can try calming, classical music that helps you relax.

-Focus on spirituality: Heavenly Father knows what you are going through. Sometimes, depression can put you out of touch with your relationship with your Heavenly Father. Rekindle that relationship. Work on saying prayers. Use God as your sounding board and begin by addressing Heavenly Father, then rattling off your list of woes. Finish by asking for help and expressing love and gratitude where you can manage it. Try reading your scriptures for 15 minutes a day...even if done in 3 minutes intervals (upon wakening, mid morning, after lunch, mid afternoon, evening). Or watch an episode of Veggie Tales and talk about it with your toddler. Sometimes it is the littlest things that will help!

-Focus on grooming: Wake up, eat breakfast, change diapers, nurse the baby, take a shower, change diapers, do hair, get the toddler a snack, do makeup. Whatever your morning routine -needs- to be, make sure to include personal hygiene. Make the time to shower, brush your teeth, put on deodorant. Make yourself feel as pretty as possible. Put on a bra and clothes, like you are going to go somewhere. Use soap that smells really good to you (not just something that smells ok, but find something that you -really- like). Wax or shave your legs and armpits. Go ahead and put on a movie for the kids, if it will give you time to take care of yourself.

Focus on cleanliness: This is not a focus on bodily cleanliness, this is for your house. Ask your husband to help you clean the house in the evenings. Then do what you can to keep it clean during the day. Make sure you keep up on laundry and dishes. Sometimes those chores that you -have- to do are the only ones that get done...because, let's face it, you need to do laundry if all your underwear are dirty! The task is to keep them from piling up. A week's worth of dirty dishes is a daunting task, and can aggravate depressed feelings. But getting the dishes done every day or having a freshly vacuumed floor can feel like a wonderful accomplishment!

Focus on hobbies: Remember those hobbies that you used to have and used to love. They seem dull now. So, remind yourself why you used to love them. Pull out your pen and paper and write some poetry. Or get out your paints and a canvas. Or your crochet hook and yarn. Get a new book from the library. Watch your favorite movie. Design a new ball gown. Shoot some hoops. Whatever it is that you used to do, find time to do it. Get the kids involved if you want. Or get them busy with something else (or down for a nap), so you will have time for yourself.

These are just some ideas for combating PPD. Like I said before, pick ONE of these and work on it. Don't try to do them all at once. It will not work. It will probably make you feel worse. But, picking one that especially appeals to you might make the world of difference. Get as much sleep as you can, and devote your days to getting better. You may not have much motivation or energy, but gather what you do have up, and put it to good use.

PPD is not healthy or normal (common...but not normal), but there are natural ways to make it better. These suggestions may not take all your troubles away, as PPD is often caused by hormonal imbalances that need time (and sometimes medical intervention) to be fixed. However, if you have thoughts of harming yourself or your child(ren), you need to get medical help immediately. If you feel like things are too hard to handle, and you haven't had any success with natural remedies, you are not a failure. PPD is a real illness. Just as you couldn't help it if you got cancer, you cannot help getting depression. But you can help get rid of it.

You are not alone.

Oon Arteeest!

2011-03-09T06:49:00.000-08:00

On Sunday, we had a friend over with her kids. These kids are crazy when they are together. Fighting, jumping, wrestling, chasing, playing. Most of the time, we just sat on the couch and laughed. But, the rest of the time, we were chasing kids around trying to keep them out of trouble.

We had to contend with dinner....you know...getting the right kids to eat the right food off of the right plate.

We had to lock doors.

We had to fish a whole roll of toilet paper out of the toilet. (And when I say "We" on this part, I mean the Hubby.)

We had to remove toys.

And just when you think they are settled down and being quiet.....(this is when seasoned parents know something is up)....you find them using marker to practice their art skills on the walls.

And doors.

And window.

And bed.

And glider.

And toy bins.

And their bodies.

I had to laugh when I saw it. Of course, you have to laugh at disaster sometimes. So, we got out the rags and soap and those supposedly wonderful Magic Erasers. We were able to get most of the marker off of the doors and window. We don't really care about the marker on everything else....except the wall. And that's exactly where we -couldn't- get the marker off.

The walls in our apartment have exactly -0.01% gloss in them. My father-in-law says that makes it easier to paint them after tenants move out...which they are required by law to do, I guess. I say it is so that the walls soak up everything and are impossible to clean. And that means little bits of our security deposit are being manipulated away by the glossiness-less of our wall. But, whatever.

So, because our walls are flat as flat can be, nothing we did took that marker off. Sure, it faded a bit. And smudged around a bit. And that Magic Eraser was able to remove a fine layer of paint. But the marker scribbles are definitely still there.

At least it was in the kid's room.

Stupid Scouts

2011-03-05T08:59:00.000-08:00

I vacuumed today. Actually, I pretty much cleaned the whole house. The dishes are done, the toys are all put away, and the floor has been de-crumbed.

And, the reason for it all (apart from the house just really needing attention), I am ashamed to say, is to make my husband feel guilty.

You see, he is at Little Philmont for Boy Scouts today. And I'm jealous. Jealous that he gets to get out of the house today, and I'm stuck at home. Again. With no car. With two attention starved (they believe) boys. And my husband won't be home until this evening. Just like another work day. And it is supposed to be my Saturday. The day where I have a hubby home to help me take care of things...or take me on a date (which we didn't get last night, like I originally wanted). To give me the support I need so I don't feel like my head is slipping under water.

Usually, that help is to clean. Or to watch the kiddos so I can clean. But that hasn't happened for a while. Because the hubby is always too busy. And so I cleaned alone. AND took care of the boys. Just to show that "I don't need no stinkin' husband to help me!" But, really, I do. Because it's miserable here without him.

I know I am supposed to happily support my husband in his church callings (Scout leader). And I did sustain him. But sometimes all the support I can offer is to begrudgingly kiss him goodbye as he goes on another camp-out or another day long activity.

Blast those character building wonder-boys!

"Blue Book" mess

2011-03-04T18:26:00.000-08:00

I can't believe this is only my 6th post this year. Honestly, I've been having such a hard time with the motivation lately. Well, other than getting dishes and laundry done. I've actually been getting pretty good at that. Although, I think I've been neglecting my kids to do it.

Bug is always begging me, "Mommy, wahss". (Which, if you didn't understand that, it is "Mommy, watch".) I hear that sentence in my head even when I should be enjoying a moment of silence.

I also get a lot of "I hep you!" ("I'll help you") Which really means, "Let me do it." Or "GET THE HECK AWAY AND LET ME DO IT MYSELF!" (I really have NO idea where he gets THAT!)

I kind of wish Bug would "hep" me write a blog post. Or something else that I can't seem to just do....like water our one plant that is miraculously still alive. (Just an idea, if you want plants, but have absolutely no green in your whole body...let alone your thumb...buy a pathos plant!)

I do NOT, however, want Bug to "hep" me wipe his nose (by actually wiping the boogers on our back door).

And I do not want Bug to "hep" me with the laundry...by leaving his "blue book" (his "notebook" from Blue's Clues) in his pant leg. Whenever he doesn't have pockets, he stuffs the book in the waistband of his pants. And my most recent laundry mishap is not discovering it until after it went through the wash.

Let me tell you something: a 2"x2"x1" cardboard book makes A LOT of cardboard fiber mess.

That load of dark clothes looked hopelessly ruined. There were fibers over every inch of every item. I shook things off as much as I could and ended up with a huge handful of soggy cardboard pieces. But the clothes were still looking pretty hairy.

So I ran the load again. And then I dried it. And cleaned out the lint trap.

Luckily, that worked to get everything mostly clean. Now there were only fibers in the creases of the shirts and pants.

But I must say, I have never felt more distressed with a laundry mishap than I did with that one. Not even dying my whites yellow could compare with how I felt when I opened the washer to those "blue book" mess.

Breakthrough!

2011-02-18T10:17:00.000-08:00

Every day I run through recent family events in my head that would be perfect fodder for blog posts. Every day I click on the "new post" button, and then I stare at my computer screen until one of the kids starts screaming for attention. For some reason, I haven't been able to actually get the stories down. Like, my most recent laundry mishap....that definitely needs to be forever immortalized as a Mother's Lament. But I don't even have a draft of it in my folders. (Unless you are counting my brain folders...but these days, those are getting pretty fickle.) Or I could write about when Bug and his second cousin decided they were going to run away. Or I could write about the death of my family's cat. Or I could write about my birthday and how I discovered creme brulee. How about I write about totally spacing the Relief Society meeting that I -really- wanted to go to last night (that I actually only remembered while I was writing the last sentence) and instead wasted my time shopping at Joann Fabrics? Or I could write about all the other crazy things that have happened within the two weeks since my last post.

But, for now, I will write about Gizmo.

Gizmo, my sweet, perfect, laid-back, easy-going baby has been getting less-sweet, less-perfect, less-laid-back and less-easy-going. Even more so within these past several weeks. And, there is only one thing to blame when your baby turns sour (and I'm not referring to the smell of the old drool starching his collar). Teething. Blast that wicked teething!

Now, the unfortunate thing about teething is that is lasts from about two minutes after they're born until you finally cut out those perpetually impacted wisdom teeth when they are sixteen. (That should tell you why kids can been such twits when they are teenagers...they're just teething!)

But, we are also blessed with some sweet relief...even if it is brief. And that is when those pretty, pearly whites break through (or when your kid is giggling under the influence of post-surgery anesthesia).

So, someone please tell me that my temporary relief from a fussy baby is nigh at hand, because...Ladies and Gentlemen (er...Gentleman. Hi, Honey!) Gizmo has his first tooth!

I'm so out of it, I can't even give this post a title

2011-02-04T08:07:00.000-08:00

I feel like I've spent a large portion of this week being grumpy...and trying to find at least two minutes to have completely to myself to recharge. Of course, is hasn't happened. I sit down on the couch to read after putting Gizmo down for a nap...and Bug goes and wakes Gizmo up. I go to the bathroom, and Bug follows me. I have to make meals, I have to read tacky toddler books, I have to change diapers, I have to nurse, I have to clean up messes (I know...all those required chores of motherhood). Even now, typing this post, I am having to reprimand the two year old as he is bending the baby's arm back awkwardly trying to give kisses. Tough love....really.

I don't like getting out of bed before 8am unless I really have to. Unfortunately, Bug has woken me (or Gizmo...and consequently...me) up no later than 7:58am EVERY. MORNING. THIS. WEEK. Yeah, yeah, at least he wasn't popping into my room all cheery and awake at 3am. But pre-8am is still early enough for me after a night of nursing and insomnia. The knots in my neck and shoulders (where I carry all my stress) have been getting so much tighter and tighter that it feels like my head is about to pop off.

Apparently, it is too early for Gizmo, as well. Because he has been cranky all week. (Or, maybe he is teething. Actually, he is definitely teething.) But, Bug thinks it is his personal mission to annoy Gizmo as many times as possible, starting from the minute we wake up. He cranks his arms around to give kisses. He steals toys. He squashes. He says "NO! Bad!". So, combine a cranky 5 month old with an overactive and overbearing toddler and you get seriously disturbed naps for everyone, more crankiness, and a mommy who has zero patience. I have been short with Bug so much recently, I should start a fund for his eventually therapy needs.

And bring on the attitude and tears. I've heard some say that the terrible two's are nothing compared to the terrible three's. And we're almost there. Bug has been incredibly emotionally sensitive. Last night, the Hubs pretended to eat off of Bug's plate while Bug played on the floor under the table...and it make Bug cry. Everything makes him cry these days. (I'm adding another dollar to his fund right now...just because I feel bad for making him cry so often!) And he has a HUGE attitude. That's probably my fault, dangit. Whenever he does something bad and I tell him to knock it off, he steps back from what he's doing, throws his hands up in a defensive posture and says, "Okay! Okay!" in a snotty, sarcastic way. I don't know WHERE he got that. But, the other day, he did squeeze out some poop into the potty just to get a piece of candy. To which I say, "I'll take it!" I'd give him candy all the time if he poops in the potty!

Gizmo, apart from the teething monster that occasionally rears its head, is mostly adorable. Loud. But adorable. As babies should be, right? He is the most slobbery kid I have ever seen. He is starting to sit up on his own. And he can scoot himself around in circles when he is laying on his belly. But he gets upset if he is in one spot for longer that 33.7 seconds. He does enjoy being in his jumper most of the time. This morning, however, he went from jumping around, drooling and having a ball to being slumped over, drooling, and fast asleep within minutes. (What did I say about not enough sleep?)

Speaking of the jumper...The other day I put Gizmo in the jumper for a few minutes so I could attend to something of importance (like lunch, I think). When I looked over to check on Gizmo, Bug was there spinning Gizmo around in the jumper like he was a little top! Then he let go to have Gizmo spin the other way. I immediately went over to rescue the little whirlwind from his twirl in the jumper and reprimand Bug. I wanted so badly to stress to Bug that he should not do that, but it was SO HILARIOUS to watch Gizmo spinning around like that, that I couldn't properly punish Bug through my giggles.

I guess I need to have a few laughs during this crazy week!

Finally February

2011-02-01T06:58:00.000-08:00

January this year has been particularly exhausting to me. Recovering from the holiday madness, dabbling in potty training, and a full week of sickness has made blogging the last thing that I get around to. On the bright side, however, I have been getting really good at keeping the house mostly clean, keeping the laundry in check, and cooking dinner. The hubs usually cooks dinner...he's just better at it...but the week he was sick, I had to do the cooking. And I haven't stopped yet. Someday, maybe I'll be completely domestic, scrapbook and all.

Bug has finally been shooting forward in the language department. Most of the time, I know what he is saying. Most of the time. Unfortunately, he uses the "f" sound a lot. He doesn't say his t's or sh's. He replaces them with an "f", and it sounds like he is swearing more often that I wish it did! He loves putting his books on the floor to build a "fwain fwack" and he loves watching the movie "Fwek".

Gizmo is getting so big. His gums are bumping up where his little teeth are trying to push through. He is drooling buckets and buckets of spit daily. And he is trying so hard to sit up. And he wants to eat food. Gizmo really knows how to make me feel bad when I'm eating in front of him. He stares at my food and reaches for it. And stares. And stares. And stares. We'll be having fun with eating banana and avocado later this month, for sure! Yesterday, he had a huge poopy blowout diaper, and as I was undressing him, I ended up getting poop everywhere. I was trying to wipe him off the best I could before I gave him a bath, and he was laughing the whole time. He might be less hyperactive than Bug, but he is still a boy!

The Hubs and I finally got a kid-free date this year (our last one was mid-December). We ended up just running errands after going to dinner. The Hubs says that he doesn't consider that a very good date. But I think it's great! Going to the grocery store with my husband, without towing along two kids, feeling accomplished for getting something important done, and having my hair and makeup done while doing it....yeah...that's a pretty good date!

Whine whine whine "Nose" Whine

2011-01-19T11:13:00.000-08:00

Thursday: Bad day. Bad, bad day. Potty training horror. Mommy kidnapped by Grandma Marty (thank goodness!)

Friday: A better day. Productive. Laundry, dishes, vacuuming. Mommy felt good.

Saturday: Wanted to go get the Hubs a new suit....fever struck Bug. Potty training on hold until further notice. Suit buying postponed. Mommy kind of enjoying the feverish Bug (he's quiet, still and cuddly).

Sunday: Mommy and Gizmo up early to get to church and print church programs. Bug still feverish. Daddy stays home. Mommy and baby come home after sacrament. Mommy and Gizmo go to family baptism. Everyone being lazy. Daddy goes to church meeting at 7pm. Bug still feverish.

Monday: Bug still feverish. Daddy now feverish, too. Mommy and Gizmo are fine. Mommy taking care of everyone.

Tuesday: Bug no longer feverish. Daddy still feverish. Bug very cranky. And whiney. Daddy sleeping all day. Daddy running to the toilet to yak it up (luckily, Bug escaped that part of the sickies that have been here).

Wednesday: Daddy's fever broke. Daddy coughing and enduring sinus related torture. Bug also enduring sinus related torture. Bug whining, "nose" every waking minute. Mommy enduring cabin fever and whining related torture. Gizmo enduring "I rolled over to my tummy and for some reason can't figure out how to get back over...but I'm still healthy as a horse" torture.

What a week it has been so far.

Beginning a New Year

2011-01-12T06:17:00.000-08:00

Last night, I had a dream that we bought a house. It wasn't the nicest house, but it had enough room. And two kitchens. With 5 stoves (with ovens) and 4 dishwashers.

When I woke up, I couldn't decide if that would be a good thing, or just more to clean.

Aside from keeping up with my blog, I think I've started off the new year fairly well. I went to bed before midnight on New Years Eve, which is a good habit, I assure you. I've kept my [one] kitchen clean. The ever-increasing laundry has been kept at bay. And I'm pretty sure the house has been vacuumed once.

And then I started Round Two of potty training for Bug. Round One didn't go well. After cleaning up half a dozen accidents per day, I gave up on day 3. THIS TIME, I've only cleaned up 4 accidents total, and we're on day 3...and I haven't given up yet. Although, Bug refuses to poop in the toilet. He can squeeze out one nanoliter of urine to get a sticker on his potty chart...but he won't poop for candy. So, on day one...he just didn't poop. Then yesterday, he went and hid in his room to do it. I assure you all, the first time he poops in the potty will be a day of much rejoicing in our home!

Gizmo is growing like crazy. I'm pretty sure I have February 24th marked on the calender for his 6 month mark and subsequently the Day of Starting Solid Foods. He wants to eat solids so badly right now. He watches us so closely when we eat, it makes me feel bad. Like he's staring at me wondering why I would torture him like that. But I'm sticking to my grounds. He's healthy and growing, he doesn't need solids yet, and I don't want to mess up his little baby intestines. Also...he's been teething. Normally, Gizmo is the most mild and lovable baby in the whole wide world. Recently, he's been a cranky little booger. Sometimes. He is surprisingly happy and easy to settle, even when he is cranky...as long as I stand up with him. But I'm so used to him being incredibly easy and good that whenever he cries it is all that more upsetting!

It's been fun having two kids. Seeing how they are similar. And how they are different. Being a mom is great!

Learning to Spell

2010-12-30T10:41:00.000-08:00

Bug has been absolutely blooming in the language department as of lately. He is saying so many more words, and they are easier to understand...although most people still look at me and ask, "Do you know what he's saying?" Erm...sometimes I do.

Bug wowed the family about a month ago by showing off his counting skills. He can count to ten on his own about 80% of the time.

Recently, he has started "spelling" words. Whenever he sees letters (on Gizmo's shirt, in his books, on Crayola markers, etc.) he points to the letters and says "E, O, E, O, E, O..." Sometimes he uses "A" and "S". Sometimes it is "B" and "O"...which makes me giggle.

Today, Bug was standing behind me, pointing to the letters on the back of my shirt. And this time, he was saying "B, S, B, S, B, S..."

I love how innocently hilarious he can be!

Christmas Family Photo? UPDATE

2010-12-24T08:34:00.000-08:00

Yesterday was probably one of the most stressful days -EVER-! It seemed like most everything was going wrong, and very little was going right. Add that on top of the Christmas busyness that we've been dealing with the past couple weeks...(sorry neglected blog)...and you get a mama that needs a chance to relax.

My mom got us tickets to see a Christmas show called Awaited, at the Crossroads church here in Cincinnati. Everything is free. Hot chocolate, cookies, play area, music cd, kid's activity book, the actual show....and family photos. I was so excited to be able to go and enjoy everything, get a family picture done, and all for free while enjoying a show that is all about the true meaning of Christmas.

Bug, unfortunately, didn't nap like we though he would. And he didn't want to stand in line for the picture. So, Grandma Marty took him to the play area. We would call her when we got close in the line for our picture, and she would bring Bug to us. Well.....the line moved much faster than we thought it was going to. And then the people in front of us stepped out of the line. We quickly called Grandma Marty, and we got our ticket (with our number on it, to get the photo off the Internet later). We were told that if our entire party wasn't there, they would just have to take the picture anyway. We said that was fine, thinking there was still time. Surely Bug would get to us by the time we were in front of the camera.

The people in front of us went and sat. Bug still wasn't with us. They got their picture taken. Bug still wasn't with us. They got up and left. Bug still wasn't with us. The photographer asked us if we were ready. Bug still wasn't with us. We went ahead and sat down. Bug still wasn't with us. We smiled. Bug still wasn't with us. And we got our "family" picture taken...But Bug still wasn't with us.

As soon as we got up and walked out of the photo area, Grandma Marty comes rushing along with Bug in tow. But it was too late. We had our first family of four picture taken with only three of us!

Merry Christmas!

(I totally didn't notice that deer head when we got the photo taken. It goes well with my patchwork skirt! hehehe. And I didn't know I was sporting the "I just recently nursed" shirt.)

And, here is a family photo WITH Bug.

The Bib

2010-12-11T11:24:00.000-08:00

I am officially one of THOSE mothers. You know, the one whose kid is always wearing a bib. Always. To catch the drool.

I don't know how I ended up with such a drooly baby. Bug wasn't very drooly. I mean, of course he did drool some. But, Gizmo. Oh, Gizmo. He is like the never ending faucet of saliva. A bubbling (literally) brook of slobber (which Bug finds hilarious, "Bubbles!")

My sister reminded me that Bug was a summer baby, and therefore, it didn't matter as much for his shirt to be perpetually full of spit. But, Gizmo, as a winter baby, needs to keep dry to keep warm. It's true. And the bib is actually AMAZING for keeping him dry and warm. I guess that's why moms do it. Whenever I saw a baby with a bib on (and no food being fed to him), I used to think, "Poor kid...being stuck in a bib all the time. That can't be fun." Now I think, :"Look at my super cute and stylin' baby and his rockin' bib that's keeping him dry!"

Gizmo is about 31/2 months old, and I can already see little white spots on his bottom gums, indicating that those first teeth aren't too far off. When did he decide to grow up so quickly?

Oh, and just a related note: Gizmo's teething has, along with the increase in drool, increased all other mucous. Which means his nose is stuffy. Which means he isn't nursing as well. Which means Mommy gets engorged (and leaks all over the bed at night). Which means Mommy pumps 10oz. in 20mins. in the morning (while still leaving milk to satisfy the little guy's hunger). Amazing!

Single Mother Diaries: In the End

2010-12-08T08:36:00.000-08:00

Today is the last day of my single mom gig. Hallelujah. But, since my last update, things have only gone downhill....which would be ok if I was walking or riding a bike. But I'm not. So it's not really ok.

Saturday night, I threw a party. It was supposed to be me AND the Hubs throwing the party, but you can't help throw a party in Ohio when you are in Ecuador. (Poor guy, he really didn't want to miss the party.) I think the party was the only thing keeping me together all of last week. I had things to do (erm, clean) to get ready for having guests over at my house. It kept me distracted. And I was excited for the party.

Before I knew it, the party was over. And it was Sunday.

Sundays without a husband are hard. Really hard. Especially when you have a kid like Bug. I brought a pack of Skittles to church to keep Bug sitting still and quiet throughout Sacrament meeting. (We'll just ignore the fact that I had to let him run around unsupervised before church started, while I printed all the programs.) The Skittles worked....until the closing hymn. Then, Bug decided that he needed to chuck a Skittle five rows ahead of us. So, I took him out. And then I took him to nursery. *phew!*

The next two hours at church were great. But once I picked Bug up from nursery, he decided to not cooperate. Imagine: baby wrapped in a blanket held in one arm, huge diaper bag on my back, dragging a tantrum-ing toddler by him arm with my other hand, then trying to keep said toddler from running away by "holding" his arm in between my legs, while I try to get our coats on before going out into the freezing cold. Luckily, I had some help with caring church members.

I went straight to my parents' house after church, and once I got there, I felt incredibly lonely. And I missed my husband more than I had ever missed him before! And I cried. Then my sister gave me a hug, and I cried some more. Then my mom gave me a hug, and I cried even more. (I swear, when I'm emotionally fragile and people hug me, it's like they give me permission to completely lose it.)

And, I've pretty much been weepy ever since. Busy (I would like to add to my "what I did these past 10 days list": go to high school choir concert, hang out with mother-in-law, work even more on that Nativity with my sister, go to Jungle Jim's, make yakisoba and gyoza, do my visiting teaching, more laundry, dishes, another shower or two) but weepy.

I'm pretty much done being a single mom. Not just because the Hubs is going to be home tonight, but because I emotionally can't handle it anymore. I think Heavenly Father knew I could only handle 10 days. Or maybe, I suppose, he has given me the strength to get through it....and if it had been a full two weeks, or a month, or even a year...He would have given me the strength to get through it. But you better believe it, I will be at the airport tonight at midnight, wide awake as can be, and beaming from ear to ear!

Single Mother Diaries: In the Middle

2010-12-04T06:41:00.000-08:00

I am now officially half way done with the single mom gig. Yesterday, I went over to my parents' house. Both boys were asleep when I got there. I chose to carry in the baby first, I dumped him on the couch with my sister and went back out into the cold for Bug. When I got Bug laying down in a bed, I came back to the living room and flopped down on the couch. I felt that things had finally caught up to me, and I was EXHAUSTED!

Of course, that was kind of part of my plan. I wanted to go go go and do do do the whole time that Hubby was gone. Really, I only had to choices: stay as busy as a one legged River dancer (I've been dying to use that saying!), or sit around the house all depressed-like while eating massive amounts of sugar. I chose River dancer.

And my schedule doesn't really let up over the next 5 days. But, hey, the past 5 days, I've gone to Relief Society, had a play date, made wool booties for Gizmo, done screen printing shirts for the boys, worked for HOURS with my sister on a felt Nativity, read 10 chapters in the Book of Mormon, written 5 entries in a journal for the Hubs, done laundry, done dishes, made meals, made a pie, wrapped gifts, paid bills, watched 15 episodes of Backyardigans, skyped with Hubby, showered (4 times, I think), done hair and makeup 4 times, written blog posts, finished the program for church, straightened up the living room, gone grocery shopping...twice, made recycled wool sweater leg warmers, filled up the gas tank, played a few card games with my family, changed over 50 diapers, and nursed over 60 times.

And I don't even think that is all! Is it worth it? To have the Hubs gone (not like we've had much choice if we want him to have such wonderful employment) and keep myself busy? I'm telling myself "yes", and here is why (in a short story):

Before the Hubs left, we decided together on a strict NO PHONE CALLS rule. Because, international calls are really expensive, and we have other means of communication (Skype, email). We were to only call each other in a dire emergency. Let me repeat: DIRE EMERGENCY. I'm thinking that means dying in a Latin American alley, lost limb, plane going down, broken neck, blood transfusion. You know...dire emergency.

So, yesterday evening, I was sitting in the living room floor at my parents' house, sewing away at my recycled sweater leg warmers, when I hear my phone ringing. I run to get it....missed the call. And who was it? The Hubs. *duh duh duh duuuunnnnnnnn*

I could feel my heart rate rising, my palms starting to sweat. Was he attacked by some Ecuadorian thug, lying in a dark alley in only his underwear (and somehow his phone), bleeding, dying, calling his wife to say "I love you" one last time? (My sister later told me that I have an overactive imagination. She can be so insensitive.) I was in a quandary, was it really an emergency, and I needed to call him back? Did he mis-dial, and not even mean to call me at all? I figured a single text would be cheaper than a possibly long international call. "Did you just call for an emergency? What going on?"

Five minutes later...while my imagination is definitely being overactive...I get a reply. "No. I just needed your size."

WHA'!?!? Here I am, thinking he's dying, and he's strolling the marketplace looking for wearable souvenirs for me.

But, back to the purpose of me telling this story: is it worth it? I say, "YES!" But, only because one thing: a hand-woven, Alpaca rebozo (I think they actually call it an ikat macana in Ecuador) from Ecuador....FTW!

One more thing: last night, while playing cards with my family, Bug counted to ten with very, very, very little help. I was a little in shock! When did he learn how to do that!?! But, one thing is for sure, I have one smart little two year old!

Single Mother Diaries: In the Beginning

2010-12-01T05:31:00.000-08:00

Monday: Take Hubby to his work building, so he can send a copy of his passport to his co-worker, who is already in Ecuador. In the elevator, Bug pushes the Emergency Stop button. I'm reminded how crazy it is going to be when I don't have a man to put the toddler on his shoulders....just to keep the kid out of trouble!

We get to the airport. After a long hug, and several kisses, I drive away.

I go grocery shopping. This is my first single parenting challenge. Grocery shopping with a baby and a toddler. Things go smoothly. We get to the checkout. Bug grabs a bag of M&M's while I'm unloading the cart. That's fine. No big deal. I don't even want to fight about it. I just make sure it gets paid for. (Right after the cashier swipes it, Bug yells, "Mine!" The cashier hands it to him. Bug is happy.)

By the time we got home, Gizmo was practically starving....well....at least that's what he told me. I grabbed as many groceries as I could, with Gizmo in the sling and Bug content with his bag of candy. I fumble with the keys, but manage to get in the door and dump everything-groceries, baby, scarf, coat. Why on earth was it like 70 million degrees that day, I will never know. I tell Bug to sit at the kitchen table and eat his candy. I left poor Gizmo complaining on our giant bean bag chair while I ran down to get (hopefully I can carry it all) the last load....and the mail.

I get back up the the apartment. Gizmo is really mad now, so I put away all the cold stuff as quickly as possible, swoop up the baby, plop down on the couch, and rip open the nursing bra. Suddenly, I realize I need to use the restroom. REALLY REALLY BADLY. Gizmo is swimming in my overactive letdown. Gulp. Gulp. Sputter. Gulp. I'm doing the "pee-pee" dance while sitting down, bouncing the baby on my lap as he dribbles milk out of his mouth. Once he drifts off to sleep, I carefully lay him down and run to the restroom. Phew!

Then, we all went and crashed at my parents' house. I got a call from Hubby, his flight to Ecuador was being postponed...for 14 hours (due to a volcanic ash cloud over the airport)! He was stuck in Miami. He would, hopefully, be flying out in the morning. Then, my family decided they were going to be too boring (well, that and it was getting really late). So, we went home.

I read out of the Book of Mormon to Bug for an hour before he fell asleep. It was after midnight. I crawled into bed with Gizmo and passed out. At around 3am, Bug joined us.

Tuesday: 6am, I get a call from Hubby. "I forgot to fill my prescription for the Malaria medication. I'm not sure if I will be able to go. I need to call my travel agent." Way to get my hopes up. Turns out, Malaria meds are only recommended, not required. He's going to Ecuador without them.

I decide to stay home all day. I take a nice shower (with Gizmo complaining the whole time). I take a nap with both boys. Around 4pm, I get on Skype with the Hubs. He is comfortably lounging in his hotel room in Ecuador. He told me a woman tried to hit on him on the airplane, and he didn't even notice until a couple minutes had passed, because he was too into the movie that was playing. (I love him!)

I make dinner, watch some Man vs. Food on Netflix, Skype some more, cry. Cry. Cry. Then fall asleep. I didn't even bother putting Bug in his own bed. I needed my loved ones close to me that night.

I'm falling a little behind on my list of things to do. Luckily, I should be able to catch up on Friday...because the only thing I have to do is "wrap gifts". But today, I'm going to Skyline for lunch.

10 Days...And a bit of Thanks

2010-11-25T06:09:00.000-08:00

It has been 10 days since my last post. Did you miss me? Well, that was all just a little prep for my readers, so you will be able to empathize (or would it be sympathize?? Those words always get me) with me beginning this Monday...when my husband goes out of town...to Ecuador....FOR TEN DAYS!

Yes, the hubby gets to go to South America on business, and I get to stay home with the kiddos. I haven't really had to deal with him going on long trips before. I'm feeling kind of nervous. But, I keep telling myself that I will be all right, as long as he brings me back a really, really, REALLY cool souvenir. (I'm hoping for a handwoven traditional rebozo.)

I'm thinking it will make for some pretty interesting blog posts, though. You know, the "Single Mom Diaries", or something. NOT that I profess to understand, in even the most minuscule way, how a single mom feels! But it will be a very new experience for me. Although, it is likely that I will be hanging out at my parents' house every day. (Hopefully getting in some P90X to work off all the pumpkin pie I'm planning on eating today.) Wish me luck!

On another note, Happy Thanksgiving. I would like to take a moment to list some things that I'm grateful for:
-my membership of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints
-the sacrifice of my Savior, Jesus Christ
-the Holy Ghost, and his guidance in my life
-my amazing, wonderful husband
-being a mother
-Bug and Gizmo
-my extended family
-my husband's work, that allows us to live comfortably...even though it takes him away sometimes
-soft, felted wool slipper boots
-good music
-clean burp cloths
-dessert foods

I decided to make a condensed list, with the most important things, and then a few things that I'm loving particularly today. Hope you all have a very happy Thanksgiving!

Mama is SO resourceful!

2010-11-15T06:46:00.000-08:00

This past Saturday, the boys (hubby included) and I all went to my parents' house to play for the day. Now, I normally don't let the hubs pack the diaper bag. Or be responsible for making sure everything we need to day outings gets to the car. Because he always forgets at least one thing.

Apparently, I'm a major control freak. I've been told by those wiser than me, though, that I need to trust the hubby and let him take care of the diaper bag (or making sure that the baby's butt get sufficiently wiped, or the laundry properly folded, etc). I've been told that the world won't end if something is forgotten.

I guess that's true.

So, this Saturday, we were missing a baby carrier...AND an extra outfit for Bug. (TWO things forgotten!!! I'm proud to say that I didn't overreact. Really, I didn't.)

Enter: The old sheet. My parents' house is full of super soft, old sheets and blankets. I found a particularly soft (washed a million times), pink (came from a house of girls), loved (read: rips and paint stains) twin sized sheet. I folded it in half "hot dog style" (I can't figure out if that would be width wise, or length wise....I'm writing this post at 11pm...that's my excuse), wrapped it around and across my chest and tied a double knot. Then I popped little Gizmo in and went outside to play. I was very proud of my sheet sling. It was almost more comfortable than my ring sling. Instant baby carrier. Simple piece of cloth. No-way-to-carry-my-baby-and-still-take-care-of-my-toddler crisis averted.

Then there was that blasted extra outfit that -wasn't- in the diaper bag that I had to worry about.

Meet Bug. The toddler. The crazy, psycho, messy, climb-fences-feed-rocks-to-dogs-play-in-the-dirt toddler. It was a BEAUTIFUL day on Saturday. I mean, 70 degrees F beautiful. (In the middle of November!!) Of course, we were all outside. Of course, Bug got dirt all over his hands. Black dirt. And, of course, he wiped it all over his clothes...including a white onesie.

But, never fear...Mommy is here....to clean your clothes in the kitchen sink with a little, tiny squirt of laundry soap. Bug got to run around half dressed for about an hour while I washed his clothes in the sink and dried them in the dryer. (I wasn't going to put them in a washer load, when there were only three items on two year old clothing that needed to be clean.) I only wished that I had my washboard. (Which, I do actually have a little washboard for my felting projects! I would love to use it for clothes washing someday.)

I'm not sure that the sparse diaper bag drama could be avoided every time. But, I think I'm going to keep trying to let my husband pack the bag. But, if he forgets the diapers...then I'll write a post about how Daddy learned to be resourceful....

Announcement: Facebook

2010-11-08T07:56:00.000-08:00

Introducing, the newly made (and most assuredly, soon-to-be neglected) Offical Facebook page for The Mother's Lamentations blog! Go have a look. And like it.

'nacks

2010-11-01T20:44:00.000-07:00

Candy.

Horrible, horrible candy. Or, as Bug would say, "'nacks!" (Snacks).

It turns my two year old into a whining, crying, yelling, screaming, parent-shushing toddler.

Not good.

Therefore, I have divided most of the Halloween candy up between me and the hubs.

Of course, I really don't need all that candy. I'm trying really hard to lose all that baby weight that I so lovingly gained for little Gizmo (who is actually 12.5lbs already, and isn't quite so little).

Which brings me to a something called P90X. Which is, if you haven't heard of it before, a butt-kickin', make-you-feel-like-you're-dying workout program.

My sister and her husband are in town for an extended vacation. They own P90X. And, oh how I love my sister, she is actually motivating me to work out with her. I'm actually pretty good at working out when I have someone to compete with. (And, my sister is as skinny as a rail, so she makes for some good motivating envy!)

Anyway, like this post, I'm completely spacey. (It's been a rough couple of weeks, with the husband working WAY more than he's getting paid to do...stupid salary...and not enough sleep for anyone).

I was talking about 'nacks. This morning, I found Bug on top of the refrigerator. ON TOP OF THE FRIDGE! I tell you what, that kid is crazy. And he got up there for one thing. Candy. Horrible, horrible candy!

(PS- The hubby tickled Gizmo under the chin and actually got him to giggle! It was awesome!)

Food on the Floor

2010-10-21T09:32:00.000-07:00

I'm going to blame the lack of blogging lately on the fact that my computer is hooked up to our TV right now. You know, so we can watch hours and hours of "Psych" on Netflix instant download. It's hard to type up posts when you aren't sitting at a computer desk. (In fact, I'm sitting at the table, typing this up, and I'm not even looking at the computer screen...er...the TV screen. I'm sure this post is going to need extensive editing!)

I really don't know what I'm going to blame the lack of vacuuming on right now. I have no excuses. But, as I'm sitting at the kitchen table, I'm painfully aware of the large amount of stale food under Bug's chair. Really, it's disgusting. I just want to know why he has to drop such large amounts of food on the floor.

Yet...during lunch today, I had a bit of a humbling experience, when it comes to food on the floor. I was eating a meal that I just invented, that I will call "Taco Mess". Not quite a soup, not quite a casserole. Anyway, I was asking Bug why he kept dropping beans on the floor (he won't tell me), and all the sudden, a piece of corn rolled off my fork and onto the floor. I'm pretty sure it wouldn't have happened if I wasn't so worried about Gizmo. You see, Gizmo was strapped onto my chest in the ring sling, fast asleep. I didn't want to drop food on his head. And I didn't want to bump his back into the edge of the table, so I was having a bit of a hard time getting the food from my plate to my mouth. And then it happened. I dropped food on the floor.

Now, Bug doesn't have to eat his food with a baby strapped to him, but I imagine he still stits there sometimes, wondering how the heck he is going to get the food from his plate to his mouth without making a mess. Sometimes it workks, sometimes it doesn't.

After most meals, I stick Bug in the shower...and vow to vacuum "today"....which may mean "next week". How long will it be before I can move to only vacuuming once a month?? Or, better yet, once a year!

How to put on your shoes

2010-10-11T05:00:00.000-07:00

This past Friday, I was getting myself and the boys ready to walk to a friend's house to play for a bit. We were all dressed and ready, except for shoes. I needed to sit down and nurse Gizmo right before we left, so I told Bug to get his shoes and put them on his feet.

Bug got his shoes out of the closet, plopped down and tried putting them on his feet. He usually doesn't have any issues putting his own shoes on, but he was struggling. I called from my seat on the couch that he needed to put -that- shoe on the -other- foot. He obeyed.

But, he was still struggling. I finally noticed (from my seat on the couch), that the tongue of the shoe was scrunched up. I told Bug, "You need to pull the tongue out!"

Now, before we go further, I must explain, I have told him this before. I have showed him what it meant, and explained how it helped his foot go into the shoe more easily. This is not a new concept.

So....back to where we were...I told him, "You need to pull the tongue out!"

And he stuck his tongue out. And just happened to get his shoe on at the same time! He looked so pleased that it actually worked. I laughed. A lot.

Then we went through the EXACT SAME THING with the other shoe. Bug really things that sticking -his- tongue out helps get his shoe on!

And, once again, I laughed. A lot.

Gizmo's First Hickey

2010-10-09T05:00:00.000-07:00

I know babies are often referred to as being "cute enough to eat" or "delicious" or "yummy" or some other good-food analogy. But, it is extremely important that these things aren't taken literally.

Many parents, also, like to play games with their young children by giving them "munchy" kisses and saying that they will "eat you up!" and the like. But, it is extremely important that these things aren't taken literally.

And toddlers shouldn't attempt to play these games with babies.

Bug has recently been "tasting" Gizmo by taking huge, sucking "bites" out of his arm (followed by some dramatic lip smacking and "mmm"-ing.) It started out as just little "bites" and licks. Then, all the sudden, I noticed that Gizmo has THREE hickies on his arm!!!

I've informed Bug that this kind of play is inappropriate. I hope he understands. But, I know it will be hard, because babies really are so tasty!

The PP Diaries: 6 Weeks

2010-10-07T05:00:00.000-07:00

Dear Diary,

As of this week, I am officially out of my 6 week babymoon. Wow, how the time flies! I'm starting to get into the swing of things. However, I'm still using the PP excuse for -everything-. ("Oh, it's raining out today? It's because I just had a baby.")

Fortunately, my lochia has completely ended...in spite of me overdoing things one million times within these past six weeks. (Hike at the Nature Center, going to the zoo, cleaning the bathroom, getting mastitis, cleaning the church, going grocery shopping again and again, dishes, laundry, taking care of Bug, doing Pilates, etc, etc.)

Unfortunately, I'm still wearing maternity clothes, because nothing else fits.

Love, Mally

PS- Did I remember to brush my teeth today?

International Babywearing Week 2010

2010-10-06T05:40:00.000-07:00

I'm so happy that I haven't missed this. (Like I missed World Breastfeeding Week this year, and like I missed International Babywearing Week -last- year. Can't I just remember them both in one year!?!? I think it would help if during those weeks I had a baby that was breastfeeding and being worn!)

International Babywearing Week is basically a week where everyone around the world celebrates, appreciates, encourages, teaches, models and loves wearing their babies! Of course, you don't have to wait until Babywearing week to do all of that. (Check out the link to find a lot of wonderful information and resources for babywearing.)

Thanks to having a brand new baby, I have been slinging a kiddo lots and lots! Every time I go out, I make sure to have my ring sling. Just yesterday alone, I got TWO comments on my sling, and how they knew "So-and-so" who had one and they wished they had one of their own/had known about them/weren't so expensive to buy from well-known providers, etc. Then, I proudly announce that I made mine, and it cost me less than $20 (I think...I can't remember exactly how much the fabric was, but I'm sure it was pretty cheap!)

Once Gizmo gets a little heavier, I will move him strictly to my homemade stretchy wrap. And, hopefully, when he gets even bigger, I can move him to a woven wrap...or my homemade mai tai.

(Dear husband, I think I want a woven wrap for Christmas. Love, Mally)

Shhhh!!!!!

2010-10-01T05:00:00.000-07:00

When Bug was born, I was always very quiet when he was sleeping. I didn't want to wake him up, and I thought that noise would do just that. I have found that Bug is typically a very light sleeper. I don't know if I caused that by always being quiet when he slept, or if that's just how he sleeps. I am finding, however, that the more comfortable Bug becomes with sleeping in his own bed, the better he sleeps. (Bug has been in his own bed for a couple months now!!! Amazing!)

Gizmo, on the other hand, has to be able to have his naps with lots and lots of noise around. I can't keep Bug quiet, so Gizmo has learned to nap through the noise. I hope that lasts.

But, there is one problem with Gizmo's naps. And that is Bug. Bug touching Gizmo's nose. Bug wrenching around Gizmo's hand. Bug kissing Gizmo. Bug roaring in Gizmo's face.

Bug roaring in Gizmo's face. Bug roaring in Gizmo's face. Bug roaring in Gizmo's face. Bug roaring in Gizmo's face.

It's so frustrating!!! I have to tell Bug to leave Gizmo alone all the time, just so the poor babe can get some sleep!

And before I know it, there is Bug, once again roaring in Gizmo's face.

Brothers

2010-09-24T13:38:00.000-07:00

I have to admit...I really hoped that our second child would be a girl. But when my hubby announced that we had another boy, all that hoping didn't matter any more. I was in love. Totally outnumbered. But in love! I immediately thought how wonderful it is that we don't have to buy a bunch of new clothes. And then I thought how wonderful it is that our boys can be best buds growing up. Not that a daughter couldn't be best buds with Bug...but I think the bond will be different as brothers.

I'm already seeing some brotherly bonding going on in our home. Bug LOVES to give Gizmo kisses. Especially on his nose. Bug loves to hold Gizmo's hand. And he loves to tell him it's "uh-day" (aka, "OK") when Gizmo is crying.

Last week, while I was doing the dishes, Bug was picking out a movie to watch (which, he does all by himself all the time...Mr. Independent). He decided on a DVD and marched right over to Gizmo, who was lying on the couch. Bug then held the DVD right in front of Gizmo's face and said, "Day? Yeah!" ("Ok? Yeah!") Then, he put the movie in and watched it.

I couldn't stop smiling thinking about how awesome it would be if they always get along so well!

Little Red

2010-09-16T06:07:00.000-07:00

So, things are getting harder and easier at the same time. Transitioning to a mother of two is....interesting. And difficult. Gizmo is waking up and demanding more. As a new baby should, I suppose. But, Bug isn't really enjoying the attention that used to go to him, that is now going to the baby.

Gizmo has red hair. Like me. Well, technically, it's strawberry blond....with more strawberry than blond. It's a bit of a source of pride, I think. To know that those recessive genes have come out. Plus, it's a family thing. We've got some red pride. I just hope Gizmo's hair stays red. Bug was born with black hair, that is now blond. We know that hair can do anything.

Gizmo is a burper. Not a spitter, just a burper. Bug didn't hardly ever burp. I think the difference is that Bug nursed really slowly. Really. He would take his sweet time and nibble for hours on end. Gizmo, however, gulps and chows down. He is usually done nursing within 5-10 minutes. (Then, of course, he wants to nurse again just 20 minutes later. I've got a pro cluster nurser on my hands! But, then again, I could have said Bug was a pro cluster nurser. Just his in between times were only 2 minutes long!)

Speaking of breastfeeding (and because I don't know when I'll get around to posting again, so I might as well cram everything into one post!) I don't think that I'm leaking as much this time around. Only every now and then do I get really leaky. Usually, it happens at night. And I wake up soaked in milk. And in the morning, our whole bedroom smells like sour milk. Lovely.

And, now I'm off to nurse Gizmo!

Please Research: Cloth Menstrual Pads

2010-09-09T05:00:00.000-07:00

You have probably all heard of cloth diapering...but have you heard of cloth pads for menstruation?

I bought some cloth pads from Party in my Pants pads (PIMPs) to use for my postpartum lochia. I have a Diva Cup, but you can't use that right after having a baby.

[Neither Party in my Pants nor Diva Cup are aware that I am mentioning them in this post.]

I took a lot of time studying the different brands of cloth pads, before I decided to buy something. I wanted it to be really easy to use...so it would be more likely that I would enjoy using cloth for myself! Just like with cloth diapers, there are a lot of options for cloth menstrual pads. (Although, there probably aren't quite as many options as with diapers...I tell ya what, diapers overwhelm me!)

-I wanted a pad that was all one piece and that wouldn't bunch up in my crotch. This was probably the biggest thing for me (comfort). I didn't want to have a liner that I had to put in place, or an insert that I had to stuff in a pocket. Some of the most popular cloth pads have these particular annoyances. So, I kept looking for something that was more what I wanted.

-I wanted something that came in a "kit". I wanted to be able to get a wide variety of different pads to try out, for a good price. That's really important, because cloth pads can be expensive...but they are going to last forever. I didn't want to be stuck with a bunch of pads of one kind that I didn't like. With a kit, I may end up with a couple I don't like, but most that are good. (Or, I may just like them all!)

-I wanted something that had postpartum sized pads. This is the reason that I was buying cloth pads, after all! I know a lot of women wear adult incontinence underwear after they give birth. I wasn't planning on doing that, so I wanted a good, strong pad that could handle the flow of lochia immediately after the birth.

-I wanted something with a waterproof layer. Amazingly, not all pads have a waterproof layer. But, I knew I wanted one, because I was planning on using the pads for a really heavy flow. And with a newborn, you don't want to have to rinse out your underwear....'cause you really don't have time for that!

-I wanted something that I would be able to fix on my own, if it needed it. If the seam started ripping, I wanted to be able to sew it back and have it look nice still. Basically, I didn't want anything with a serged edge, because I don't have a serger....and that makes my crotch chafe just thinking about it.

-I wanted something that would attach easily to my underwear and that wouldn't slip around. Adhesives on disposable pads were really poorly thought out, in my opinion. They always seem to adhere to the, ehm, -wrong- places. I knew I wouldn't be getting that with cloth, but I wanted it to have a similar simplicity, without the stupidity!

-I also wanted the company to be really good at marketing, because I'm a sucker for good marketing. Oh yeah, and I wanted a pretty good price.

I just happened to have found all that in the PIMPs pads. All one piece, kits in various sizes (including a postpartum kit), nylon waterproof layer, straight stitched edge, snap in place, great and informative website, pricing comparable to other companies, and adorable, to boot!

And how do I feel about wearing them, you ask?

They are above and beyond disposable pads. When I wear disposable pads, I often feel icky. Wet, dirty, bunched up and noisy (crinkly pad, anyone?). When I wear cloth, I can hardly tell I'm wearing anything to catch the flow! The postpartum cloth pad is the biggest one that you can buy, and I -can- tell I'm wearing something with it. However, it still is more comfortable to me than disposable pads. And the next largest size is nearly undetectable! The cloth soaks up the flow so well, that I have yet to feel wet, dirty, bunched up, noisy or icky! And when a pad is soiled, you toss it in the laundry. You don't have to rinse it or soak it or wash it in a special load.

I wish I had known about cloth pads when I first started menstruating. Of course, I'm typically more of a tampon girl...and that makes me wish that I had known about menstrual cups...but that is another post to come, I guess. As for postpartum sanitation needs, I will now and forever be a cloth pad girl!

Mastitis on a Holiday Weekend

2010-09-07T09:25:00.000-07:00

Friday evening, I was at my parents' house. Around 8-9pm, I started getting the chills. My left breast was feeling engorged and tender. I told my mom, "I think I'm coming down with mastitis."

Friday night, I was feverish.

Saturday, the fever kept getting worse. I was hot/cold/hot/cold. Achy. Sore. Headache. Tired. Feverish. Miserable. The soles of my feet hurt! My left breast had a red spot over the most tender part. I got a blessing from the hubs and my dad. At 4pm, my fever was over 102 degrees F. (That's pretty high for me, considering my normal body temperature is normally much lower than average...usually around 96-97.) I took some ibuprofen, which was the only medication in our whole apartment that would do a single thing for me. A couple hours later, my fever broke in a massive, bed-drenching sweat. I felt better...a little.

Saturday night, the fever came and went.

Sunday morning, I still had a little fever. I took more ibuprofen. The red spot on my left breast had spread to cover almost half of the breast. I had a feeling I needed to see a doctor to get antibiotics. But, I don't have a regular doctor. And it was a Sunday. And the next day was Labor Day.

Sunday late morning, the hubs and I dropped Bug off at my parents' house, went to the local Urgent Care. The doc took note of my situation, and gave me a prescription for antibiotics. We then went and got the script filled at the Kroger pharmacy.

I am feeling -much- better, physically and mentally, about the mastitis. I think it was caused by the cracked nipples I had during Gizmo's first week. He had a rough time figuring out how to latch on properly. He's getting better at it now. It has been such a long time since I've needed to go to a doctor for an illness! And it's been a really, really long time since I've needed medication!

Oh, I can't believe I'm on antibiotics! All I can think about is that I'm going to get thrush next. I've cut out sugar...as much as possible (which is a HUGE thing for me)...and I'm planning on going to get some probiotics (the ones I -had- in my fridge are expired, so I don't trust them to keep the yeasties at bay) today. That is, if my stinkin' toddler will take a nap. I refuse to go out of the house with him being cranky. Especially since it will be my first solo outing with two kids!

This mom-of-two thing is hard.

Poor, poor placenta

2010-09-06T05:00:00.000-07:00

Placentas are really amazing things. They nourish a baby for nearly nine months in the womb. They are full of nutrients and hormones. They are the only source of meat that comes from creating life, rather than killing.

I really, really wanted to save, and consume in some way (whether dehydrated pills or frozen pills or smoothie style), my placenta. Consuming the placenta will stop a postpartum hemorrhage almost immediately, helps the uterus return to its pre-pregnancy size more quickly, helps regulate and bring in a full milk supply, and nearly eliminates postpartum depression. There is probably more that the placenta can do, because its just so amazing!

Sadly, it didn't happen. I shouldn't have assumed that the hubs would have prepared it for me...especially since he had told me he didn't want to [do it himself]. But, I thought he would if I asked him nicely enough. Guess not.

Instead, it got bagged and thrown away. Just so you know, do NOT ask a woman who gave birth within the last three hours what to do with the placenta, if she had already stated what she wanted done with it pre-birth. She will likely be so engrossed with her newborn that she will say, "I don't care!"

She does care. And a couple days after the birth, she might cry over the loss.

Reptile Baby

2010-09-03T05:40:00.000-07:00

Gizmo is shedding all of his skin like a little lizard! I don't remember Bug being quite so peel-y. I've pulled out the all-natural calendula baby lotion to rub all over Gizmo's little body. (Well, mostly his ankles, which seem to be more dry and peel-y than just peel-y.)

Really, it's amazing how much skin there is on such a little body.

Also, Gizmo makes dinosaur noises. Especially right before he starts crying, he gives me a warning squawk, and I swear he sounds like a little baby pterodactyl!

Like I said, reptile baby!

REM sleep

2010-09-01T10:19:00.000-07:00

I'm not quite sure, but I think I have more REM/dream stage sleep post baby than is normal. I feel like I'm always in that limbo stage of "almost asleep" and "not really awake". It makes for some pretty interesting situations, like....me wondering why Gizmo is snuffling around when I just fed him. Oh, wait...did I just feed him? Or did I just dream that?

REM sleep isn't always so bad, though. Last night, I was having a pretty interesting dream. In my dream, my mom called me at 4am (dream time, not real time) to tell me she had a WONDERFUL day. It was so real, that when I responded to her -in my dream-, I actually said "Good!" OUT LOUD. I talked in my sleep!!!

The hubs then asked, "What's good?" And I realized that it was just a dream, and I shouldn't have said anything out loud. I had to explain everything, so my husband would know that I was actually awake now, and I knew -why- I spoke and -what- I said, and I understood that I had talked in my sleep..yadda yadda.

Then we totally made out. It was 3am. I haven't made out with my husband at ridiculous hours of the night since we were newlyweds! In fact, the pregnancy had made me not want to make out in a long time. So, it was quite exciting!

Maybe I should try talking in my sleep more often!

The PP Diaries: But wait, there's more!

2010-08-29T09:12:00.000-07:00

Dear PP Diary,

I neglected to mention a couple of things in my last entry. Like, waking up every night drenched in sweat. Crying about every little thing. (Oh, I did kind of mention that...Yeah, I'm gonna add it again. 'Cause I'm probably crying about something else this time!) Dying to get out of the house, but knowing it's not a good idea quite yet.

And that SPD does -not- go away right after the birth. Rolling over in bed is still horrible. My hips still feel like they are splitting in two. All my joints are apparently still blissed out in relaxin....which apparently has a half life of one million years....or something like that.

The swelling doesn't go away immediately either. Uhm...I would like to wear my wedding ring again someday. Today, preferably.

Is there anything else I should mention? (So I can try to keep all the depressing stuff somewhat together?)

Love, Mallory

The Postpartum Diaries

2010-08-28T10:42:00.000-07:00

Dear PP Diary,

I forgot how confused your organs get after delivering a baby. For the first couple of days, mine were asking, "Now....where the heck do we belong???" It felt weird to stand up straight, because my abdominal muscles were (are) so shot. I can feel about two finger widths of separation between the muscles. Too bad I'm such a lazy bum that I probably won't ever do anything to correct that!

I also forgot that around 3 days after the baby is born, your breasts turn into huge, hard lumps of heat and milk. I feel so bad for Gizmo. How on earth do you latch on to a rock? Of course, I should be feeling more sorry for myself...because a bad latch hurts!

Hemorrhoids suck even worse after the delivery. Even worse than peeing on that little skid mark tear. And worse than having a crotch that smells like days old birth, no matter how many times you wash, thanks to the continual flow of lochia.

A couple days after the baby comes, the ecstasy of the birth starts to fade. And the tears threaten to fall. And suddenly everything you husband does (and doesn't do) is annoying.

Meconium diapers are horrible, even without it sticking to the baby's butt. Babies hate diaper changes. Waiting for that umbilical cord stump to fall off is agonizing! Diapering a baby with an umbilical cord stump is pretty close to torture...for both babe and mom.

Love, Mallory

Birth Story: Gizmo

2010-08-26T13:41:00.000-07:00

Tuesday, August 24^th, 2010. Around 5:30am: I woke up with a full bladder. But getting out of bed when you are hugely pregnant is hard…so I laid there for a few minutes, debating how full my bladder –really- was, and whether or not I could just try to sleep until there was actually daylight outside. Then, I had a contraction. 5:37am. It didn’t feel any different than the contractions that I had been having for a couple weeks already. In fact, I had even had worse contractions just a few nights before! But, there was something –spiritually- different. There was a little, hinted whisper that this was “it”. Although, I was very, very hesitant to declare that.

I did get up to relieve myself, and have another contraction on the toilet. Then I tried to go back to sleep. The contractions kept coming, 5-8 minutes apart. Pretty easy to handle. At 6:20am, Scotty’s [aka "hubby"] alarm went off, and he crawled out of bed to get ready for work. I told him that I was having contractions, and that I thought maybe this was for real, but I wasn’t sure. I told him to go ahead and get ready for work. While he was in the shower, I prayed to my Heavenly Father, asking Him to give me a confirmation of whether or not to send Scotty to work before it was actually time to send him out the door!

Once Scotty was dressed and ready, I got out of bed and we ate breakfast together. The contractions were much more comfortable to take when I was standing up and leaning on something. I had to stop and stand three times while trying to eat my cereal. Scotty kept looking at me like, “you are totally in labor”. All I could do was giggle at him between contractions and tell him to stop looking at me like that! It was between 7 and 7:30am that Scotty decided to stay home. I think –he- was the one who received the confirmation to stay, more than I did!

After breakfast, I brushed my teeth and got in the shower. I thought I was just taking a normal shower (stopping every now and then to lean my head against the cool tile and sway through a contraction)…but apparently it was a lot longer than I usually take. Scotty came in to check on me, and asked how many contractions I had been having. Enough. They did seem to be coming closer together, as well. I immediately decided that I wanted my mom to come and braid my hair. And then I had another contraction that made me want to vocalize a little. I told Scotty to call my mom and tell her to come. I got out of the shower at about 8:30am. Scotty also called his mother, who was invited to be there. I remember Scotty saying, while on the phone with her, “You should probably come now. [pause]. Yes, I’m serious.”

When I got out of the shower, I decided that I didn’t really want to get dressed, but I didn’t want my mom to show up to find me in all my naked glory! So, I put my robe on. I put my towel on the floor right next to the bed, and knelt on top of it. I leaned onto the bed while kneeling or standing and rocking while I had contractions. Every now and then, I would get up and walk around the room, but I kept going back to leaning forward. The contractions were getting to the point where I really wanted to vocalize through them. I was also starting to move into Laborland, although I stayed fairly well aware of my surroundings pretty much the whole time.

Scotty was starting to run around the house, getting things cleaned up and ready. I kept worrying about where my comb was between contractions (I could have sworn it was behind the couch), because I still wanted my mom to braid my hair when she arrived. And I was beginning to wonder what was taking her so long! (She apparently thought she had plenty of time!) Soon, I decided that I wanted a snack. Scotty got me some grapes to eat, and I had a cup of water that always seemed to be out of reach. And I was feeling hot…so I needed that water! When I was down on the floor, my cup was on the headboard. When I was up leaning on the bed, my cup was on the floor. It was around this time that I took my robe off…even though nobody had shown up yet, so it was pointless for me to have put it on in the first place. And I wanted a cool washcloth for my face and neck.

I started to moan through my contractions, and I would mentally tell myself to keep it low and loose. Near the end of the contraction, I would blow my lips like a horse, as a final relaxation technique, so I could rest more easily between the contractions. And I decided that I really did need to rest between contractions. I had been staying down, leaning on my arms, and I was beginning to feel tired. The pinky finger on my right hand was going numb…and it stayed numb for a couple hours after the birth, even! I tried to lie on the bed, but every time I had a contraction, I had to hop onto the floor and lean on the bed. Finally, just a little before 10am, my mom arrived. But it was too late for her to braid my hair. And my mother-in-law arrived just shortly after.

I had a prenatal scheduled with my midwife and her assistant for that day at 10am. My midwife scheduled it for that day, the day –she- predicted the baby would be born, due to the full moon. It made things convenient for them, for me to be in labor then! The assistant, Deann, arrived just shortly after 10am. When she came in, I’m pretty sure the first words she said to me were, “You look beautiful!” It was so sweet to hear, and when I think of those words now, I think about my divine nature. God gave me this beautiful body and the ability to birth babies! Deann started quietly pulling things out of our “birth basket” (all the supplies needed had been gathered together in a laundry basket).

Scotty kept running around to take care of things, and I had to keep calling him to me, to be my support. I would have him rub my back. But if he did it even slightly wrong, I would say “no!” and have him try something different. My midwife, Marlene, showed up around 10:30am. Marlene lives two hours away, so Scotty had called her around 8:30am (when she should have been on her way anyway) to let her know that she would be staying a little longer than for just a prenatal, and she still hadn’t left yet. Apparently, she left pretty quickly after that! I was only slightly aware of her arrival. I remember hearing her talking in the other room, and being introduced to my mom and mother-in-law. (Honestly, I don’t remember actually seeing her until right before the baby was born!)

Soon, the contractions were getting pretty hard to handle. I kept analyzing myself throughout the whole labor, wondering what stage I was in, whether it was taking the appropriate amount of time, yadda yadda; consequences of being a birth geek, I guess. I remember at this point beginning to feel like I might not be able to handle things. I thought to myself, this better be transition…or else I don’t think I can do this! (Classic “transition”!)

I really had to pee, and an empty bladder is better for birthing. But, from my experiences earlier in labor, I knew that the toilet brought on much stronger contractions. I really wasn’t interested in –that- happening at that point. I decided that I was ok with getting in the shower, just to pee. I had Scotty keep the water on my lower back. Then, I had a contraction that had me on my hands and knees. And I started feeling pushy. I told Scotty that I was feeling pushy, and I wanted to get out.

Right after I got out of the shower, I tried to lie down on the bed. I was able to handle two contractions lying down; then I just –HAD- to get up on my hands and knees. We piled a ton of pillows up for me to lean on, while kneeling on the bed. I kept announcing that I was feeling pushy. (Of course, from my sounds and actions, everyone else already knew that!) Marlene then told me she wanted to check the baby’s heartbeat in between contractions. I knew I was right in between one, so I quickly leaned back so she could get to my belly. She used a Doppler, and it was the first time we had used one (we normally used a fetascope), so that was the first time I heard my baby’s heartbeat….and I was so far into labor that it didn’t even register!

I was pushing, involuntarily, with every contraction now. It was such a strong and uncontrollable urge. My vocalizations were turning more grunty and animalistic, with a touch of “loss of control”. Deann kept gently reminding me to keep it low and relax. I had another contraction that came with a flow of what I thought was urine. I announced, “I think I peed!” To which everyone chuckled and Marlene responded, “Or your water broke.”

With every urge to push, I told everyone I was “pushy! pushy!” And soon, I was feeling a lot of pressure in my crotch, which led me to tell everyone it felt “burn-y! burn-y!” I knew labor felt a lot like a huge bowel movement, and I know women often think they have to poop, when it is really just the baby coming down. Still, I had to ask, “Am I pooping? Or is that the baby?” It was a little of both. Marlene had baby wipes for my butt, and a nice, warm, ginger and almond oil compress for my perineum. I remembered my labor with Bug, and now nice pushing was. It hurt more this time (probably because my hemorrhoids), but it was still so nice knowing that I was being so productive!

Then, I –knew- my water had really broken. I felt it gushing with my pushes, and I felt the baby moving down more quickly. I wanted to ask what kind of progress I was making. It was burning so badly, but I wasn’t even sure if the baby was visible yet! But, then I was told that I could touch the baby’s head. I reached down to feel the squishy, wrinkled mound of head coming. It felt so good to have my hand down there. I wanted to keep my hand down to apply counter pressure to my labia, but I couldn’t support both my crotch and my body at the same time.

Around this time, truly just minutes before the birth, my mother-in-law, my mother, and Bug were all in to watch the baby be born. I pushed with more vigor when I knew the baby’s head was so nearly out. Then, the head was out, followed quickly by the body. I love that wonderful feeling of release when the baby comes out! Scotty caught the baby, and announced, “It’s a boy!” I thought, for just a split second, that he had to be joking. I honestly thought I was having a girl! Bug was fascinated while watching the birth. And when the baby was born, he announced to the room, “Bobby!” Which is Bug-speak for “baby”. [We have chosen a nickname for the blog, thanks to my little sister. Boy number two will be known as “Gizmo”.]

I was still on my hands and knees, and I hadn’t seen the baby yet. I was so overwhelmed with those wonderful birthing hormones, that I was a little bit confused about how to go about turning around to hold my baby! I eventually got it (while trying not to kick anyone in the head) and Scotty placed our little boy in my arms. I was overjoyed! I had given birth! At home! In such a short amount of time! It all felt so surreal.

I eventually mustered up enough energy and interest in pushing out the placenta. We waited about an hour before cutting the cord and taking stats. I tried to get Gizmo to nurse. He wasn’t all that interested, he just licked and nuzzled. I was checked over, in the meantime, and found I just had one small skidmark (I found later that I had another itty bitty one, higher up) but no major tears.

The boy names that we had picked out during the pregnancy didn’t seem right to us. It took nearly an hour, but eventually we did give our little boy a name. Soon, we started passing Gizmo around to everyone who was there (and everyone who was showing up), while I went to take a soak in a nice, herbal postpartum bath. It was very nice to relax. I felt wonderful!

We are so pleased to announce our second son, Gizmo. Born at 11:26am. 8lbs 2oz, 19 ¾” long.

Born at home. Born in peace. Born in love.

While you're waiting....

2010-08-26T08:39:00.000-07:00

I know everyone is anxious to read the birth story, but I haven't gotten around to it quite yet! In the meantime, here are some pictures for your viewing pleasure.

Welcome Baby!

2010-08-24T13:51:00.000-07:00

Our baby was born this morning! It's a boy! I haven't decided what his nickname for the blog is going to be, yet. So, that will probably be given when I write out the birth story. He was born at home, after 6 hours of labor, at 11:26am. He was 8lbs 2oz, 19 3/4" long.

Bug was able to see the birth (from crowning to birth). He was very interested, and once the baby was out all the way, he excitedly said, "Bobby!" (Which is his way of saying "Baby!")

We are all so thrilled and in love!

Cranky Hag

2010-08-19T09:22:00.000-07:00

There should be a rule, that if you are in a consistently bad mood for over 48 hours within three weeks of your due date, your body should kick into labor and just birth that baby!

I have been in a bad mood for nearly three weeks now. Honestly, I have been foul. And, because I don't swear, the only word to describe me would be "hag". (And don't tell me I'm not a hag, because I've been living with myself for these three weeks that I've been acting this way...and I've been a hag.) I think I've been throwing more tantrums than my two year old. I struggle to show even the tiniest bit of affection. I don't want to do anything. I'm exhausted. I have absolutely no patience...which means that I have been yelling at Bug for the smallest things.

Today, around lunch time (which means I was hungry, and tired...because nap time is right after lunch), I was actually so irritated with everything that my body was shaking. I had to put myself in a time out so I wouldn't do something that I would regret.

I know emotions like these are "normal" in late pregnancy....but I hate it. PLEASE come now, little baby!

Declawing...revisited

2010-08-18T05:00:00.000-07:00

Life as a stay-at-home mom can be very repetitive. Oh, don't get me wrong. I absolutely love being able to stay home and raise my family. But, sometimes I don't even know what day of the week it is. It's almost always the same: wake up, breakfast, dishes, laundry, lunch, vacuum, dishes, clean [a room], laundry, change a diaper, shower, dinner, bedtime. Over and over and over.

And those little fingernails keep growing. No matter how many times I clip them, I have to do it again and again. Clipping fingernails is torture. TORTURE. For both me and the kiddo. When Bug was little, people would tell me to just clip his nails once he was asleep. To which I would say, "ARE YOU FREAKING CRAZY!?!? Do you know how long it took me to get him to sleep!?!?" Bug was a pretty light sleeper. I know that he would have woken right up on the first clip if I had tried to declaw him while he slept.

So we did this.

Now that Bug is older, the rolling and punching and kicking is worse. And it hurts more. But, those nails still need to be clipped. And now Bug has -words- to put along with getting his nails clipped. "It hur's!" he whines, "It hur's!!!!"

Can you believe it? This kid apparently has nerves in his fingernails.

Another Photo Update

2010-08-16T10:08:00.000-07:00

Here I am at 38 weeks. I know I should be more patient and mentally preparing for a 40+ week pregnancy...but every fiber of my body is wanting this baby to come NOW!!! For one, I haven't even heard this baby's heartbeat yet! (We have requested to not use any ultrasound devices, not even a Doppler, so the heartbeat must be heard through a fetascope.) The Hubs finally got to hear it at our last prenatal. The smile on his face made my heart melt. But at the same time, I was so jealous!!!

Another reason that I can't wait for this baby to come (other than for the cessation of all my aches and pains) is that I want to know what sex this baby is!!! EVERYONE keeps asking, "Do you know what you're having?" Uhm...yeah....a baby. But I don't know if it's a girl baby or a boy baby. I knew at 20 weeks with Bug, that I was having a boy. This time, I have been trying to hard to just go with the flow of pregnancy and ignore the super intense desire to know what I'm having! People ask me how I do it, going through the whole pregnancy without knowing the sex. Honestly, I have no idea. But, there's nothing I can do about it (other than go get an ultrasound, which I'm -not- going to do) so I might as well try not to let it make me crazy!

Yesterday, my sister asked me if I felt like I have been able to bond with this baby pre-birth. Especially in comparison to my pregnancy with Bug. I told her that I might have been a little bit more "bonded" with Bug before he was born, because I -did- hear his heartbeat and I knew he was a boy. (Although, I was calling him a different name up until 36 weeks!) But, I'm not one of those women who talks, sings and reads to their belly. I do have a hard time seeing my huge belly as being an actual baby. I think I have been more distanced from this particular pregnancy. But I also feel more confident in my abilities to gestate. Before I started feeling this baby move a lot, I often thought the whole pregnancy was something that I have made up in my head. But, I haven't felt like I've needed someone to tell me that I am doing the whole pregnancy thing right.

The good thing about having a baby, though, is that the bonding comes almost instantly when the baby is in your arms!

The Pregnant Woman, Her Tender Parts...and The Bathroom

2010-08-12T08:17:00.000-07:00

"And remember, this is for posterity. So, please be honest."

This post has been classified TMI. Continue reading at your own risk.

When you get pregnant, there are a lot of things people just happen to "forget" to tell you. Of course, a lot of people don't want to ruin the euphoria of pregnancy, so they just smile and nod at you...knowing that you'll figure it out eventually. This is especially true for the relationship with a pregnant woman, her tender parts and her bathroom. Sure, every book about pregnancy mentions the increased need to pee, but that's only the beginning.

When I was pregnant with Bug, I didn't really have an increased need to pee. I had good, strong pelvic floor muscles, and a confidant bladder. When I was pregnant with Bug, I didn't have too many issues with anything dealing with the bathroom. Whether from the luck of craving bran flakes for breakfast every morning, or the joys of a first pregnancy, I may never know.

I have not had such blessings with this pregnancy. I seem to have acquired a bladder the size of a pin head. And I have acquired hemorrhoids the size of Alaska. Those vulgar varicosities haven't even had the decency to stay where they "belong". My whole nether region is swollen and tender. It was tolerable until about week 30...when I sat in a car for 16 hours to Texas and 16 hours back. Not recommended. Since then, the baby keeps growing and pressing, my blood volume keeps increasing, and my veins keep begging for mercy. Sleeping with an ice pack in my crotch has never been such a welcoming idea!

With all the horrors that are going on within and around my digestive system (i.e., heartburn, alternating constipation/diarrhea, urinary incontinence, varicose veins) I've learned a few important items to keep well stocked during pregnancy.

Antacids. I chew Tums like candy. I have a feeling they aren't the most effective way to eliminate heartburn, but I'm a cheap-o...and I have a HUGE bottle of the little buggers. So, they'll have to do.

Toilet paper. Lots of it. More than you think. A nice, soft, thick, -very- absorbent kind. Let's face it, you're going to be dabbing at your lady bits a lot throughout your pregnancy. It helps to have a toilet paper that you like. Increased usage, paired with things getting messy, you'll thank yourself for getting the good stuff. And getting lots of it! Also, make sure you always have a couple rolls stashed in the bathroom. There is nothing fun about stumbling into the bathroom at 4am and tinkling just enough to necessitate even a meager two squares, to find an empty roll....because you used the last two squares at 3am. (Not to mention, you are relieved you even made it to the bathroom on time. After laying in bed for six minutes, deciding that "yes" you do have to go. Then figuring out a way to get out of bed...I'm not sure how I ever manage it. Then taking three minutes to go three steps, because you have to test out if your hips will even hold your weight. Yes, you are relieved that you made it to the toilet, but you are -seriously- considering just sleeping in adult diapers and letting go without having to even roll over!)

Relaxation techniques. Constipation is horrible. It's even worse when you feel like every poop is turning your whole body inside out through your bum! And a big baby head is pushing on your rectum. Just learn to take a deep breath, keep your mouth and lips loose and blow out (like a horse). Keep your feet flat on the floor. I like to think of this as training for the birth. (Birth itself, to me, felt like the biggest BM I've ever had!)

Baby wipes. For you. When you have hemorrhoids, you will realize how important this is! Even the softest toilet paper feels like sandpaper when your insides are coming out. Plus, a little moisturized wipe does cleaning wonders when you are dealing with pregnant-woman-sweaty-crotch in the dead heat of summer.

Panty liners. Or just lots of panties. This is one recommendation that I haven't followed on my own, but I wish that I did (I wish I had 70 gazillion pairs of underwear so I -could- follow this advice). Changing a liner or your underwear will make you feel much better. Excess mucous excretions and sweaty crotch are -not- pleasant. It feels nice to freshen up a bit. Baby wipes are good, but you can't beat fresh, clean underwear!

So, there you have it. The down and dirty on pregnancy bathroom needs. And just so you know, it is definitely ok to pee in the shower.

My Mother Blessing

2010-08-07T07:03:00.000-07:00

Last Saturday, I had a Mother Blessing "Ceremony". If you are wondering what the heck that is, I am here to tell you!

The Blessingway is a traditional ceremony or celebration from the Navajo culture. The purpose of a Blessingway is to show support, and give blessings, to someone who is about to go through a major life change (e.g., a man going to war, or a woman about to have a baby). The traditional Blessingway includes a song performed by a trained Navajo medicine man. It is an extremely spiritual experience. Out of respect to the Navajo culture, those who wish to have a Blessingway-type ceremony before the birth of a child, but will not be including the traditional song, often refer to the celebration as a Mother Blessing. However, this event is still meant to be a highly spiritual celebration, full of only positive emotion and complete harmony. The purpose is to give the mother the emotional strength and confidence that she needs, in order to have a happy and healthy birth experience. It is also meant to bless the home where the birth will take place, and fill it with happiness and joy.
Most of the rituals performed at the Mother Blessing are meant to pamper and honor the mother. Hair brushing, feet washing, the burning of sacred herbs, and singing are traditional Blessingway activities. Often, more modern Mother Blessings include artsy activities, or earthy rituals that are meant to remind the mother and guests of the ancient and spiritual nature of mothering. [The description I provided on my invitations.]

One of the most popular activities of the Mother Blessing is the bead ceremony. Usually, guests are asked to bring a bead and a "blessing" for the mother. Sometime during the Ceremony, a string is passed around and the guests each string their bead. The mother then has a bracelet or necklace to wear or hold during labor, that is supposed to remind her of the women who love and support her. I decided that instead of having all my guests bring a bead, I would provide clay and have my guests each -make- a bead. That was the main activity I wanted to do...then I had to figure out what else I wanted to do. There are a lot of different things that can be done at a Mother Blessing Ceremony. I had a huge list at first, and I had to only pick a few things. If we were to do every good idea, it would take all day! I got a lot more ideas for what I wanted to do at my ceremony from this site.

I planned on having a special introduction ceremony right at the beginning, but my guests all straggled in at different times. So, I waited until about half an hour after my ceremony started to do the introductions. In the meantime, I asked my guests to cozy up to the yogurt bar (instead of traditional party snacks, I provided yogurt, granola and assorted fruit...yummy!) and also to write me a poem or "blessing" to give me confidence in my ability to birth my baby. I told them I planned on reading their contributions when I was in early labor. I probably should have warned my guests that I would be asking them to write poetry! In the end, however, I received some of the most beautiful words of love and inspiration I could ever ask for! Most wrote letters. Some wrote scriptures. Some poems. All wrote words that have -already- inspired me. And I look forward to reading those messages again when I am preparing to meet my new little one!

Once I was sure that all the people that were coming were actually there (I didn't ask for an RSVP, but eventually about 50% of my invited guests showed up), we did the formal introductions. For the intros, I had a mortar and pestle with dried corn in it. As we each introduced ourselves, we were to grind the corn and give our names, as well as a mini-genealogy ("I am ___, granddaughter of ___ and ___, daughter of ___, mother of ___..."). Grinding the corn is a way to remember that women used to gather together to socialize while they were doing their daily chores. Let me tell you....grinding corn is -not- easy. ESPECIALLY when you are trying to remember what your grandmothers' names are!!! You know, it's hard even when trying to remember what your -own- name is!

Then we had a wrist binding ceremony. (I think that was next...after some more yogurt, and cleaning up spilled juice!) For the wrist binding ceremony, everyone sits in a circle and we pass around one skein of yarn. Each person wraps the yarn around their wrist before passing it to the next person. Then the yarn is cut and everyone ties their piece around their wrist. This is symbolic of how are are all connected in a sisterhood of women/mothers, even though we are separate individuals. The guests were then asked to wear their yarn bracelet on their wrist until they hear that my baby was born, after which they can then cut the bracelet off. This part is symbolic of the umbilical cord being cut. It is really nice to think of all these women who are "connected" to me, through their bracelets, giving me support through labor/birth, and then all together cutting the cord that connected woman to child for 9 months.

Continuing with the theme of a sisterhood of women, I described how there are lots of cultures that have rituals/activities/ceremonies that show support to pregnant women. The Mother Blessing, of course, comes from the Navajo tradition. But, belly dancing and hula dancing are also traditional ways that older women show younger women how to birth well. And, being a very religious woman, I then chose to read the first five verses of Titus, chapter 2. I told my guests that being examples is part of God's plan for us. Titus 2 tells us how we can be examples to others (especially those younger than us). The scripture specifically calls to the "aged women" to teach the younger women how to be good wives and mothers. It is really a wonderful scripture, and I feel blessed thinking about all the women who have been examples to me!

About this time in my Ceremony, most of my guest were needing to leave (not because they had been hanging out at my house for hours, but because all but two or three of my guests had other obligations that popped up last minute. So much for sending out invites nearly 4 weeks before the party!) So, we quickly moved to the table, where I had put all the clay and tools, and we were able to make beads. There were so many beautiful beads made!!! We all spent the rest of the time working with clay, talking, finishing poems and eating goodies. And my guests all drifted away to their other responsibilities.

The one ceremony that I had to cut out (because we ended the party nearly an hour earlier than planned) was the hair brushing/braiding ceremony. The grandmother (my mom) is supposed to brush the mother's hair and braid it, in a beautiful and loving ceremony reminding all of the days gone by when the mother was a girl. My mom used to braid my hair A LOT when I was younger, and so I was pretty excited for this part...and a little bummed that it didn't happen during the Ceremony. But, my mom was the last person to go (actually, we left together to go to her house, where I would meet back up with the Hubby and Bug). So, I had her braid my hair before we left. It was very sweet, even though there were no more guests left to witness the ceremony, I felt nostalgic and loved as my mother pulled my hair back into pigtail french braids, just like she has done many times before!

All in all, it was a very enjoyable day. It wasn't quite what I was expecting. But it was nice to be surrounded by women who care about me! I look forward to having a Mother Blessing Ceremony with future pregnancies. And I would definitely encourage other women to do the same!

Beached whale, indeed!

2010-08-06T11:12:00.000-07:00

It's summer. And it's hot. And I'm pregnant. All these things scream "WATER!"

We are a one car family. I don't have the opportunity to get out to local bodies of water. And, honestly, there really aren't a lot of swimming options around here.

Last week, my sister-in-law was able to pick me up and take me (and Bug) out of our little apartment. We went out to eat, and then I decided to fill up four small baby pools at my mom's house. I figured if I couldn't swim in a big pool, I could at least lounge in a little pool. And Bug would have fun in the water, too!

After squeezing myself into my maternity swimsuit, giving myself three good contractions while getting Bug into his swim trunks, and slathering us both with SPF 50, -we- were ready to get in the pools. But, of course, we had to blow them up first. Huff, puff. Then we had to fill them with water. Then (after a few more contractions) I realized that I needed to get myself a huge glass of ice water. Finally, I was able to put my feet in, while Bug hopped back and forth between the four pools.

It was hot. And I really wanted to submerge myself. Unfortunately, I forgot how humongous-ly pregnant I am. And I forgot how tiny those blow-up baby pools are. I lowered myself carefully into one of the pools. I think it lost half of its water right then. I couldn't lean back, or else I would just fall over, and lose even more of the pool's water. Sitting up was a pain in the ribs. I tried stretching my legs out...but apparently, I'm not short enough. I folded my legs under me in a tailor sit, until my pelvis ached and my thighs cramped. And then Bug started dumping water all over my head.

After five more minutes, I was done. And the next morning, I realized that I missed my thighs when I was putting on the sunscreen. I think I'll just lounge around inside with the A/C.

Please Research: Attack Vs. Educate

2010-07-30T06:14:00.000-07:00

I am a crunchy parent.

I know a lot of people who are -not- crunchy.

And I know a lot of people who always feel like they have to defend themselves around crunchy people.

I wanted to express that you do not have to defend yourself around me! I may not agree with your choices, but you don't have to defend yourself, as long as you have done your research. I often feel like the mainstream parents feel like they are being attacked by the crunchies when they do something un-crunchy-like. I can't speak for all the crunchy parents out there, but I would like to say most of us are NOT attacking you. We are trying to EDUCATE you!

We aren't sure if you know your other options. Or if you know the research that suggests some of the crunchy ways are better than mainstream ways (i.e., breastfeeding). There is a reason mainstream parenting is called "mainstream". It's because it is the most popular parenting style in our culture today. And there is a reason parents like me get called "crunchy". We get a funny nickname, because a lot of people think we are...weird. Because we do things differently than most of the population.

I, personally, became crunchy through researching my options. I felt like the most natural way to parent was to be as self-reliant as possible (i.e., minimal doctor visits, no circumcision, no vaccines), to keep my baby close (i.e., co-sleeping, baby wearing), to introduce the least amount of foreign substances to my baby (i.e., natural childbirth, breastfeeding, no vaccines), and to use what God has provided me with -naturally- to care for my baby and myself (i.e., placentophagy, breastfeeding, herbal remedies, breast milk in eyes/ears/nose of baby when sick).

My mother (who is accepting of my crunchy ways, but not crunchy herself) and I had an interesting conversation about this topic just the other day. I chose to use the epidural as an example. This is obviously a mainstream choice, as it is believed that well over 60% of women in labor choose an epidural. There is definitely a long list of -possible- side effects (for both mother and baby). I would hope that every mother who chooses an epidural is aware of these possible side effects. Unfortunately, I know that not all mothers are aware of them. But, what about the side effects that are -always- present. Very few women realize that an epidural will slow, or even stop, their body's natural production of oxytocin. Oxytocin is what makes birth! It causes the uterus to contract, and it enhances the mother's natural love for her infant. With an epidural, many women need artificial oxytocin (Pitocin) to cause contractions. And they are missing out on that natural brain hormone that fills them with intense love and a desire to bond with their baby. (This does NOT mean, however, that a mother cannot bond with her baby. It just isn't as easy as it could have been without an epidural.) The risks list of epidurals (both possible and definite) goes on, but that is merely an example in this post. [If you are interested, Dr. Sarah J. Buckley, MD, has a wonderful article explaining the risks of epidurals.]

The point of my example is, some women are COMPLETELY unaware of the advantages of crunchy parenting, and the disadvantages of mainstream parenting. I know that not every mainstream choice is going to be a bad choice, or one made in ignorance. And I understand that everyone is entitled to making their own choices for themselves and their families. But, the natural parenting community has a desire for the whole world to at least -know- what their choices are, and whether they are good or bad choices.

Please remember. We are not attacking. We are educating!

Rocking horse

2010-07-23T07:30:00.000-07:00

My dad made Bug a rocking horse for his second birthday (per my request). Bug LOVES it. He rides like the wind at least once a day. My dad was tickled to find that similar horses sell online for anywhere between $200-$500!! Not including the cost of the tools he took to build it, which he already owned, the horse cost him less than $40 to make. And I'm tickled that I didn't have to pay a single thing for the lovely horse! It is definitely nice to have family with special talents!

But, apparently, Bug didn't like the ears on the horse. First, he bit the tips of the ears off, (they were made from a sturdy foam-like material). Then, he eventually tore them completely off! (We need to get some scrap leather to replace them...just another item on the "to do" list!)

And he has colored on the horse's back...with both pen AND blue highlighter.

And, even though my dad took precautions in his design to prevent tipping, Bug rides the horse to the limit. If he gains one more pound, I'm sure the horse will tip forward!

I guess until Bug needs stitches in his head, I'll keep enjoying the horse along with him! Yee-Haw! Or...as Bug says, "AAAAHHHH-HAAAAA!"

Blush Reflex

2010-07-19T09:11:00.000-07:00

Apparently, being pregnant enhances my blush reflex 100 fold! Practically all it takes is someone looking at me to get me to go red in the face!

If you add even a hint of embarrassment in a conversation directed at me (even at levels that I would normally be able to handle with ease), I flush so much that I have to fan myself or hold a cold...something, anything...to my face, just so I won't burst out in flames!

And that embarrasses me even more, to where I really need to escape. Which isn't always practical. It really is just a vicious cycle of blushing and fanning. And nervous laughter.

I'm not sure why I have been so...sensitive...with this pregnancy. I don't remember experiencing this blush reflex thing when I was pregnant with Bug.

Just last night, I was talking with my husband while laying in bed, and all the sudden I got a huge heat wave. I wasn't embarrassed about anything. It was like a hot flash. I felt all flushed and I had to push the bed sheets off of me. And it was just my husband talking to me!

So, now you know. If you ever find yourself talking to me, and I start to blush, know that I'm not necessarily embarrassed. It's just that you are talking to me. Or paying attention to me. Or expecting me to say something. Or looking at me at just the right moment of a hot flash! And that happens to make me blush right now.

Birth on my mind

2010-07-15T07:09:00.000-07:00

I've been composing this post for a LOOOOOOOONG time. In fact, it was basically written out even before I got pregnant again. Then I forgot about it. Then I remembered it. And I read it over and had to add and edit about a million more things. I still don't know if it is really ready or not. I have a lot of feelings about Bug's birth that have been ruminating in my mind for a long time (like...two years). If I were to keep adding to this post, until I felt it was truly complete, I would probably have a whole book! Therefore, I will go ahead and let this post be. There will definitely be some sort of follow up after the new baby makes his/her arrival! Birth on my mind:

I always have pregnancy and birth on my mind. It is my passion. I read about it all time time. I dream about it all the time. I think a lot about how I can make my own experiences with pregnancy and birth better. Of course, that means I spend a lot of time thinking about what I want this pregnancy and birth to be like. And I think a lot about what was wrong with Bug's birth. The more I think about Bug's birth, the more I realize that I -need- to write it all out. Not just a birth story, I have one of those. But, I need to write out my true feelings, more specifically, what I didn't like and why. Perhaps I feel like it will be a therapy session. This isn't just for me to complain (although I do love to complain!) I like to think that I can help other women who want better birth experiences (or maybe haven't had any yet, and have no idea what they could have). So, here is my list of things I did NOT like about pregnancy/birth with Bug, why I didn't like it, and then my preferences for a better pregnancy and birth -including what I'm doing for my current pregnancy/plans for this birth. (these are in no particular order):

-Seeing an OB. I wish that I had either gotten a midwife to take care of my prenatals, or gone with an unassisted pregnancy (UP) and done everything myself. I think I was unsure about what choices I could make, and I felt pressured by our society, and those around me, to see an obstetrician. It is such a normal thing today to have an OB attend you throughout pregnancy. But, as soon as I put my trust in an OB, I forgot to trust myself and my own capabilities. Even though I wanted and hoped to have an unassisted childbirth (UC), I continued going to my prenatals with the OB, and in the end, that is why I gave birth in a hospital.

-Caved to subtle threats from the medical field. A week after I started prodromal labor (but still waiting for the baby to be born), I went in for another prenatal checkup. They heard an irregular heartbeat, and sent me in for all kinds of testing. Eventually, they advised me to be induced. I was vulnerable, because I was a woman getting ready to have a baby anyway (my body was already preparing: I had lost my mucous plug and was having on and off bouts of contractions). They effectively scared me into thinking that my baby's life was in immediate danger. As I laid on a hospital bed, in a hospital gown, crying, I honestly didn't think I had a choice. I wish I could have gone back home to contemplate the situation. I could have returned shortly after if I really felt like I needed to be induced. I could have studied, and subsequently found out, that abnormal heartbeats really aren't uncommon and are typically nothing to worry about. I could have prayed with my husband for personal revelation on what to do in the situation. But, I didn't do any of that. It's hard to do any of that in a busy hospital, where people are checking on you every couple of minutes, asking if you have made a decision, when you clearly know what decision they want you to make. I quietly accepted the invitation to be induced.

-Given a hep lock for an IV. It is ridiculous that mothers in labor at a hospital are rarely allowed to eat and drink when and what they want. It is such an out dated practice, but it is still being practiced! Instead, they keep you hooked up to an IV to keep you hydrated. Or, if you are lucky, you just get a hep lock, so they can hook you up to the IV later. It is mandatory in many hospitals, especially in my area. Why? So they can hook you up to drugs quickly if there is a problem. They see it as a preventative measure. I see it as an unnecessary hindrance. Hospitals are supposed to be there to help quickly -if- a problem comes up...not get you hooked up in advance for -when- a problem comes up. Plus, is there anything comfortable and relaxing about having a plastic tube stuck in your vein? No, I think not. I was constantly worried about the foot of tubing wadded up and taped to my arm. I didn't want to pull it the wrong way, because that hurts! In the end, I wasn't hooked up to the IV...but it wasn't fun laboring with a hep lock in my arm.

-Allowed artificial rupture of my membranes (AROM). AROM definitely is one way to get labor going, especially if the woman's body has already been preparing for labor. However, it can introduce infection. It could have resulted in a cord prolapse (a serious condition, resulting in a c-section). And, it is artificial. What if Bug wasn't ready to come that day? Getting labor started when he wasn't ready could have caused distress for him. AROM also put a time limit on me. If you haven't delivered within twelve hours of your water breaking (or being broken), most hospitals will take drastic measures to get your baby out (i.e., cesarean section). When my OB broke my water, I was not informed of the risks. That makes me angry to think that there are other women out there that are less educated about childbirth than I am, and their OBs are preforming these procedures on them, without telling them anything about what they are doing, and the women believe it is needed, because their OB said they needed it. And for a moment, I was one of those women.

-Allowed an internal fetal monitor. The internal monitor was the whole reason I had my membranes ruptured (besides the fact that the AROM was also to get my labor going, after all, it was medically advised for me to deliver. And I guess I would rather go into labor from AROM than Pitocin). An external monitor wasn't being very helpful in hearing Bug's irregular heartbeat. This was the main thing they wanted to watch. To a mother in labor, how could I have refused? But, getting an internal fetal monitor is risky business, indeed. That one little intervention makes it incredibly more likely that you will end up with a c-section. Once the monitor was in place, I had to stay laying in bed. I was hooked up to a machine, and I could only unplug it to go pee...although I had to go pee with wires hanging out of my crotch. And just to add a little insult to injury (or should I say add a little injury to the insult), the internal monitor's electrode is screwed into a baby's head. Bug had a scab on his little noggin' for several days after he was born because of the monitor.

-Forced to labor in a supine position. Because I was hooked up the internal monitor, I wasn't able to move around. I was able to unhook to go pee every now and then...but if I wasn't hooked up for a couple minutes, a nurse would come in to "make sure everything was ok". So, I spent the time laboring in bed. I rolled from side to side, trying to get comfortable enough to deal with my contractions. And I moaned and vocalized. I probably could have knelt on the bed or stood beside the bed...but nobody told me that I was allowed to. And I was afraid that I would get into trouble by doing stuff. (Can you tell I had zero confidence while I was surrounded by people who were more "in charge" of my labor than I was!?!)

-Legs placed in stirrups, combined with semi-sitting, kind-of-laying position for the pushing phase. I had no idea that I could have knelt down on the bed to give birth to Bug. Nobody at the hospital told me I could. And once I was in the hospital, I felt like I couldn't do anything unless the hospital personnel told me I could do it. (And, even if I tried, my OB may not have allowed it.) So, when it came time to push, they "broke down the bed", aka they removed the lower half of the bed, put up the stirrups and put my legs in them. Being on your back, or mostly on your back, is probably the worst way to push a baby out. And the best way for an OB to watch while you push a baby out. It makes the mom work harder, and it just might cause more tears.

-Directed and strongly encouraged pushing. This was one of those things that I paid a little less attention to while I was pushing. I have a memory of the nurse on one side, telling me that -now- would be a good time push, and my mom on the other side, asking me to push if I -could-. (Moms are much more sensitive to their laboring daughters than nurses! Although, my nurse was really nice, she was obviously trained in hospital birth.) I would push when a contraction came on, then I would get worn out and stop for a bit. When I stopped, the nurse told me to keep going. I told her that I needed to take a break!! It had been about 12 hours since I had had a meal, or even anything to drink. I was exhausted, and I honestly wasn't sure I could push as often or as strong as the nurse wanted me to. I tried to push when I felt like it, and only then. But, I felt like I was failing or not doing a good job, because the nurse kept telling me to push...even when I felt like I couldn't.

-Immediate cord clamping/cutting. Bug had an irregular heartbeat. That was why the doctor wanted me to deliver. And that is why there was a neonatologist there for when Bug was born, ready to whisk him off for testing. And that is why, against my expressed wishes, Bug's cord was immediately clamped and cut after delivery. And, sadly, I didn't really get to see the placenta, either. That connection that my baby had with me throughout my pregnancy was gone in an instant.

-Baby taken away for tests. Right after Bug was born, they put him on my chest. But it was only for a few minutes, before they took him away for testing. And the OB stitched two of my three small tears. That whole after birth phase is a cloudy memory to me. I don't remember how long Bug was away from me. All I know, is that I got to hold him for a minute, then he was gone for a while. And the next time I saw him, he was bundled up in a blanket. I didn't really get to cherish that skin-to-skin after birth moment that I long for. And I definitely didn't get the opportunity to see if Bug would make his own way to my nipple to nurse.

-Lost autonomy. As illustrated in almost all of the above, I had little to no confidence to do what I wanted to do in a hospital birth. There were rules and regulations and people who were important and in charge. I was just a patient there. I was supposed to be good. I was supposed to be compliant. I was supposed to be easy to take care of. I was nervous and excited. It was my first child. I had never done anything like birth before! I had studied and I knew A LOT about birth. I knew I wanted to follow my own intuition. But I couldn't. As soon as I was told to head to the hospital for a biophysical profile, I felt my confidence draining. It drained more as I was told to put on a hospital gown. And even more as I was send for an ultrasound...in a wheelchair. And once I was told that it was "medically indicated" that I deliver, I knew my intuition was NOT invited to this hospital birth. It wasn't even until hours later that I realized I didn't have -anything- with me, other than my purse. (In fact, my husband ran home after Bug was born to go get clothes and other stuff that would have been there with me, if I had a hospital bag packed.) I was completely and totally at the mercy of the hospital. The policies. The regulations. And even though Bug's birth was amazing (as I imagine any kind of birth would be), it was not what I wanted.

So, how can I change this? How can I help myself have a better experience with birth? The first thing I did was put my foot down and NOT schedule an appointment with an obstetrician. The hubs wasn't comfortable with the idea of doing an unassisted pregnancy/birth with this baby. And he is part of my team, so I had to compromise. It took a lot of work, but I finally got in contact with several midwives. The homebirth community in Ohio is almost like a secret society. You have to know where to go to get the information that you need. I didn't have that information when I was pregnant with Bug. Or, I didn't know how to -find- that information. This time, I worked harder. I found midwives, and I interviewed midwives. And I decided on a midwife that I believe is a good fit for me (the hubby even picked her before I did).

My midwife is ok with my requests. This includes: no vaginal exams, no ultrasound technology (including a doppler), letting me do my own urinalysis, visits in my own home, no routine tests or procedures. Basically, when I ask my midwife if I am ok to do something, she says, "Sure, why not? It's your choice/your body!" If I ask my midwife if I need to -not- do something, she says, "Why? If you want to do it, do it. If you think you shouldn't, don't." My midwife is not flippant. She just thinks that pregnancy and birth are normal, and you shouldn't have to alter your life for them (as long as you are healthy, and not participating in harmful activities). She also thinks that I should be making all my own decisions. She is just there to observe and let me know if something is going wrong (and I don't catch it before on my own). It's exactly the kind of care that I want (assuming that I actually have care from someone other than myself).

It has been nice to just go throughout my pregnancy like I'm living normally. I never have to worry about getting to an appointment (because my midwife comes to me, and I'm always home with Bug during the day anyway). I never have to worry about doing something that I'm not supposed to do, or making sure I do something that I am supposed to do (according to an OB). I just do things that make me feel more comfortable. I eat well. I rest a lot. I take care of my toddler. I feel the baby moving within me and I smile and get emotional about another baby coming to our family. It's been a beautiful pregnancy so far. Very relaxed. It feels good. It feels right.

I want the birth of this next baby to be more ceremonial, and less....protocol. I want to be the one to call the shots. And, I even want to be the one to catch the baby (assuming I'm in a position to do so) and my husband is ok with that! (Yipee!) I'm not typically a conformist. And I think after Bug's birth, I have become even less so. I am stubborn and confident. I think that is why I had such a hard time with Bug's birth, feeling that that part of me was taken away...or that I really don't have those traits. But, I know what I want, and I have learned enough to now get what I want.

I can't wait until the baby is born. Then I will write a follow up post on how this birth went. In the meantime, I'm interested in how my readers have experienced their pregnancies/births. Did things go the way you wanted them to? Did you wish you could change things? What would you want to do differently?

Pwned!

2010-07-09T05:00:00.000-07:00

Apparently, I have a "look" that I give Bug when he is being bad. It's kind of a sideways glance with scowling eyes.

Well, Bug has perfected that look, himself. And every now and then, if the hubs and I are doing something bad (i.e., telling Bug to stop doing something that he doesn't want to stop doing), Bug will give us the look.

Sometimes he will give us the look AND shush us...with his finger pointed either at us or at his mouth...at the same time!

Sometimes, when I'm yelling (or I prefer to say "sternly reprimanding") at Bug for something, if he is close enough, he will put his hand over my mouth to get me to be quiet. Or he'll shush me.

He seems to shush me a lot.

Motherhood: An Eternal Partnership with God

2010-07-08T08:49:00.000-07:00

A couple of my friend's have posted this video on their blog/facebook page. And, as I watched it with tears streaming down my cheeks, I realized that this is probably one of the best videos I could ever share on -my- blog. We mothers have so many things to "lament", but we also have so many things to be grateful for. We are blessed beyond what we could ever imagine. We are truly in an eternal partnership with God!

My Little Helper

2010-07-07T05:00:00.000-07:00

I actually like vacuuming. I just don't do it very often. Probably because I have to rearrange the whole house just to vacuum. I -must- move everything and vacuum underneath it....except the really big stuff...like the couch.

I don't like it when my husband vacuums. Which is probably why he doesn't do it very often. He just goes around what is on the floor, and rarely moves anything. Except maybe the toys. Yeah, he usually cleans up the toys first.

But, living with a toddler means you HAVE to vacuum at least, oh, I'd say at least once a month. Or every two weeks, I guess. In the meantime, there can be quite the accumulation of dried -er- food...items, underneath the toddler's high chair.

I have found that the best way to take care of this problem in between regularly scheduled vacuuming, is to have a toddler (which, is obviously taken care of, or you wouldn't have this problem in the first place) and a hand held vacuum cleaner.

All you do is give the toddler the vacuum, direct him to underneath the table, and tell him to suck up all the "yuckies". If he doesn't seem interested (unlikely), offer to give him some yummy juice, if he sucks up all the "yuckies".

Works like a charm!

More Hormonal Art...And a Contest!

2010-07-06T08:22:00.000-07:00

I am an art dilettante. It all started when I was 14, and I found my dad's old acrylics in our garage. And when I say I found his "old" acrylics...I mean it. These were his acrylics from high school. Aside from smelling a little funky, they worked great. I painted on poster board at first. And I used cheap brushes that found their way into my family's "junk drawer". Other than in the 7th grade, I have never taken an art class. So, I taught myself and I soon developed my own personal style. Bold colors. Blunt lines. Well-formed shapes. I painted. And I loved it.

Eventually, I bought my first canvas. And my very own paintbrushes. And even some new paints. Over the years, I haven't really altered my style much. I tend to stay within my comfort zone. I am scared of layering the paint. I hate watercolor. I dabbled in oils, but found that I am too impatient with them (too long to dry, too hard to clean up). Most of the time, I go into a painting knowing exactly what I want it to look like in the end. I guess that's how most artists do things, but I measure and use crayons on a piece of paper to get the full idea. And once I make a decision...I don't change it. Of course, that means I have several paintings on canvas that I really don't like. But...because I hate layering paint...I don't know if I will ever make them into something beautiful.

Of all the art that I have done since that day when I painted my first piece, the works that I love the best are the ones I have done since I got married. Or, more specifically, since I got pregnant for the first time. It was like I was overcome by my hormones in a way that created the most beautiful and inspiring art I have ever seen. Not to be vain or anything. I LOVE my art, but I do criticize it a lot, too! (If you are interested in birth art, and why it is so cool, check out the book and/or website Birthing From Within. It is one of my favorite birth topic books...because it is a very artsy book!)

With my current pregnancy, I have been designing art that is a bit outside of my normal style. In fact, it resembles watercolor...which is strange...because I hate watercolor! I don't mind the look of it, I just hate working with watercolor paints. Luckily, acrylic is a water based paint, and I can thin it out and get a nice watercolor look without the pain of using actual watercolor paints!

Because I've been having a pretty rough time this pregnancy in actually -finishing- all the stuff that I start, I currently have a 3 part series of paintings called "Fulfilling Womanhood" that still aren't finished. It includes a piece representing conception, a piece for birth, and a piece for breastfeeding. When they are done, I am sure they will be beautiful. And I am sure that they will create stirrings of passion deep in my heart. My "hormonal art" has such meaning. And that is why it is beautiful.

I have been able to successfully complete at least one painting during this pregnancy, though. I needed a good piece of art to use on my Mother Blessing invitations. I couldn't find one that really stood out to me in my online searches, which is surprising, because there are tons of great pieces out there on the Internet! But, I knew I needed to paint one myself. I knew it needed to be flow-y. No boldness or bluntness. It needed to be earthy. It needed to represent motherhood. Pregnancy. True feminine beauty. And it needed to call forward feelings of life, joy and celebration. (And it needed to be completed in time for me to send out my invites in early July!!!)

After a few quick sketches, I finally found what I wanted. I pulled a blank canvas out of my reserves, watered down some acrylics, and started painting. I didn't measure. I didn't pencil in on the canvas. I didn't color it out. I just painted.

And a beautiful piece was born. A perfect piece. Every one of those thousand words that a picture can speak, spoke the words I wanted them to speak.

I am only an art dilettante. I know there are far better artists that I am. And I know there are far better pieces of art than mine. But I will always have a special place in my heart for my very own art!

And now: THE CONTEST! -Give This Piece of Art a Name-! I don't have a name for this piece, yet. The only thing I am coming up with is "Full of Life"...but I'm just not sure if that is the right name for it. I am asking for ideas. I'm sorry to say that the winner of this contest will only win their title on my painting. But, I am begging for some great ideas, so fire away!

Fireworks!

2010-07-05T08:26:00.000-07:00

Almost every year for Independence Day, we go to a large event called Red, White and Blue Ash (held every year in Blue Ash, Ohio).

For the past several years, it has been rainy. We usually try to enjoy the fireworks anyway. Last year, that meant we sat under a damp blanket while we were drizzled on. And ashed on. The wet rain fizzled out the fireworks prematurely, and so there was a lot of ash raining down on the crowd. And a lot of smoke. I'm not kidding about the ash. My face was covered in little black flecks by the time the thing was over! Really, it almost wasn't worth it....Especially since I had to nurse Bug through the whole thing. He stayed under the blanket, attached to his nursies, and missed the whole show. Except for the noise. And you really can't escape from that.

This year, I regret to say it wasn't much better. The weather was BEAUTIFUL (although we are now in a heat emergency for the rest of the week). But, good weather can't make the whole thing worth it. And neither can AWESOME, AMAZING, SPECTACULAR fireworks. Although, that is what the fireworks were...I still don't know if I want to go again next year. And that kind of makes me sad.

We left our home around 7pm. It takes about half an hour to get to where we were going. So we figured we have plenty of time to find parking (and get on a shuttle...because there is no way in heck I was going to walk very far being seven months pregnant, toting around a 2 year old, three fold up chairs, a diaper bag and a blanket in the 90 degree weather...even with my amazing husband to help!)

Before we even got on the highway, we got a call from our Spanish sister missionaries. They needed someone to give a blessing to the little baby of a Spanish speaking family in our ward. We were so close, that we figured it wasn't a big deal to stop and help out. (Hey, I even ended up getting a compliment, that I read in Spanish better than my hubby does...and he's the fluent one!!) It turned out to be a very spiritual experience for me. Of course, I had been having a "bad pregnant day" anyway...meaning "highly emotional, cry at everything day". The little girl was having a bad reaction to a slew of vaccines she had received almost two weeks ago. The story touched home to me, as we have chosen to not vaccinate, due to the risks of reactions in young children. I'm not sure what all was said in the blessing ('cause my hubby's the fluent one, not me!) but I felt such a strong reassurance that our Heavenly Father loves this little girl, He cares about her and the needs of her family, and he will bless her with a recovery. I really was glad we stopped before we went on to the fireworks.

Shortly after the blessing, we were back on our way to Blue Ash. We avoided traffic, and found a -wonderful- parking spot at one of the shuttle stops. But, we noticed there were two lines for the shuttle bus. We weren't sure which line we should be standing in, so we chose the line that had a sign saying "Shuttle Bus Stop" at the front. It seemed more like the official stop. I figured we would be on the second bus that came. Apparently, the bus driver was just going to stop at the closest line of people...which wasn't the line we were in. And as the bus was loading up the people in the unofficial line...ALL the people BEHIND us, cut in front of us to the other line!!!!!!! WHAT THE HECK!?!?!? Those JERKS!!! Finally, we decided we might as well move into the other line. Instead of the second bus picking us up, it was probably the 5th bus that we were finally able to get on. And Bug was crying the whole time we waited. He wanted to get on every bus. He wanted to eat strange berries on the ground. He wanted to pick up garbage. He wanted to take off his shoes. Did I happen to mention (no...no I haven't yet) that he did NOT take a nap. I should have known we were in for a long night!

As we were getting closer and closer to the shuttle, people started walking away, declaring that it wasn't worth it to go, because "People are elbow to elbow..." that happens every year "they are out of pop..." we have our water bottles "they are out of food" we ate before we came "they are out of beer! For cryin' out loud, they are out of BEER!..." uhm, we don't give a darn about the beer, and frankly, we'd love for all you alcoholics to not be there around us anyway "and the port-a-potties are all overflowing." Ok...that last thing was a little bit discouraging...because pregnant women tend to use the toilet a lot. So I started practicing my kegels again, right there in the line! But we weren't going for the food or the entertainment (well...I -did- kind of want to see Peter Frampton), we were going for the fireworks...so we got on our shuttle.

And we finally got there and found my family (and a bunch of other people we know) and set up camp. By the time I was sitting in my camp chair, it was just after 9pm. Two hours after we left home!

And "Ooooh, Baby, I [don't] love [the] way" it all happened...but I MISSED PETER FRAMPTON!

However, I was able to complain to my mom, eat a doughnut, and pass off responsibility for Bug to my little sister. Finally, at 10pm, the fireworks started. We were in the perfect location. Not too close, not too far. And the smoke all blew to the side of us, rather than right at us! I was SO grateful that Bug didn't want to hang out under a blanket nursing this year. He loved the fireworks. He ooohed and awed and clapped. And, luckily, he didn't cry when they ended at 10:30pm. I must say, it was a very nice display. They even had fireworks that exploded into a "U", an "S", and a slightly wonky "A". Pretty cool engineering, I guess...even if it did look like it was written by a first grader!

After it was all over, we walked two minutes over to the shuttle pick up point. All the shuttles were already full and leaving. Ok, great. We'll wait. No big deal. We'll wait. And wait. Oh, there's a shuttle....nope, it's a "Red Line" and we want the "White Line". So we wait. And wait. And the shuttles keep stopping at the other end of people (and they totally should have stopped at our end, because then all the shuttles that came in behind them wouldn't be waiting in line to pick up people, while the first shuttle sat there blocking the way...argh!) Finally, an hour and a half later, we squeeze our way onto a "Red" shuttle, that had been converted to a "White", because apparently, they needed more whites. We did have a really spunky shuttle driver, though, and she made me smile, even after waiting for so long!

And -hallelujah- the traffic didn't impede us one bit. We were able to get home quickly and easily. And we settled into bed exactly 2 hours after the fireworks had ended.

I may have to settle for a less extravagant firework display next year...I'm just not sure if it is worth it!

Grow up...today.

2010-07-02T05:00:00.000-07:00

I can't believe how big Bug is getting. I find myself staring at him all the time wondering where my little baby went, and where this little boy came from. It might be part of those pregnancy hormones. And realizing that I'm going to have two kids pretty soon! Of course, everyone always says that they "grow so fast". There is a reason that saying is cliche! It's so true! My dad told me that once he got married time started speeding up. And every year, time passes a little bit faster. He says he blinks once and twenty years have gone by. Time hasn't started going THAT fast for me...yet. But I am amazed at how quickly it has been passing since I got married!

This is the summer of major changes for Bug. I almost feel like I am letting him grow up too fast. I worry that he isn't ready, even when he shows signs of being ready.

Major change number one: weaning. It was a surprisingly easy process. I think I was more unprepared for weaning than Bug!

Major change number two: moving to his own bed. This process has only just begun. So far, so good. I just hope he doesn't get too jealous when the new baby gets to sleep with mom and dad. (And, we've almost had to start all over again, because we let Bug sleep with us a lot while we were in Texas, and a lot since we've gotten back home. Surprisingly, however, Bug did NOT sleep with us -every- night while we were in Texas. Slow and steady wins the race, right?)

Major change number three: potty training. We haven't started this one yet. Although Bug loves to sit on the potty, and will pee in the potty without any extra encouragement from me. I really need to just train myself to teach Bug how to go potty, and how to tell me when he needs to go. I'm putting it off, but I know it will need to be done this summer.

Major change number four: becoming a brother. This is just the cherry on top! All these changes, and suddenly, Bug isn't going to be the only kid vying for attention from mom and dad. Jealousy. Anger. Violence. I worry about all those things that might happen. My grandma used to tell stories of when my mom brought me home from the hospital. My older sister was 18 months, and she thought that mom had brought her home a doll to play with. I hope it works that way with the new baby and Bug. I would rather him think that the baby is for him, than for him to think that the new baby is replacing him!!!

Those four things are MAJOR! Are they not? I mean, for a two year old! I just hope he doesn't regress when the baby comes. I worry, as any parent might, whether I am doing the right thing at the right time for my child. This parenting thing is really emotional!

To Texas. And home again.

2010-06-29T06:29:00.000-07:00

Well, we are back from our trip to Dallas (as of Saturday night) and I am starting to get back into the swing of things. Meaning, our dishes need to be done, the carpet needs a good vacuuming, and I'm sitting in front of the computer while Bug eats mushy Cheerios.

Let me just share with you a little of how our week went in that great state of Texas.

First, we had the drive down there. It was 16 hours long. 16 hours. We left at 4am, EST, to get down there at a reasonable hour. Bug was AMAZING. I can't believe he handled the drive so well. We stopped every two to three hours to walk around, eat, and take potty breaks. Bug entertained himself in the car by throwing Goldfish at mommy and daddy in the front seats. Luckily, daddy decided it was more funny than something to get upset about, and calmed the mommy before she could threaten to turn the car around!

Bug also entertained himself by putting his blanket over his head. He would then call out "MOMMY! DADDY! MOMMY! DADDY!" until we replied, "Where is Bug? Where on earth could Bug be? I don't know where Bug is?"...you get the point. Then, Bug would uncover his head and yell, "Ah-da!" which is his form of "Ta-da!" And mommy and daddy would both have to say, "THERE he is!" And then the game would start over again. And again.

16 hours.

While the Hubs went to his training (remember, this was a business trip for him that I tagged along on, and not a family vacation) I tried to not go insane. Luckily, I have a cousin that lived only 40 minutes away from our hotel. So, I hung out with her and her family a lot. She has two young boys close in age to Bug, and she is expecting her third....it was nice to know I wasn't the only pregnant woman suffering in the heat of Texas!

My cousin took us to her local pool, that has a GREAT kid area. I had to fight Bug to get him covered in sunscreen, and then to even get him in the water at first. But, once he found out that it was actually fun, I could hardly get him to slow down enough to pull up his swim trunks. And boy oh boy, did I have to keep an eye on those swim trunks. I have a scrawny little kid, and pretty much the only thing keeping the trunks on his little booty was the liner! I really should have just let him run around in the swim diaper. And when it was time to go, Bug wished it wasn't. And frankly, I wished it wasn't either, just so I wouldn't have to fight with him. I secretly wished we could have stayed there, cool in the water, until Bug passed out from exhaustion. That would have been nice.

We also went to a petting farm. It wasn't all that spectacular, but it was free. And they had a turkey that was a big hit with the kids, for some unknown reason. And a cute little bunny, that Bug insisted needed a handful of bedding on its back. Poor little bunny.

It was so hot that day at the petting farm. You know, not being in water. I was sweating so badly, and I got a prickly heat rash under my ample pregnant-woman bosoms. Lovely. And then my husband told me that he would love to live in Texas...and I couldn't convey to him just how uncomfortable I was.

But, the trip wasn't total misery, exactly. Because I got to go swimming again. And again. And again. I don't think my swimming suit every properly dried out the whole time I was down there. Most of the time (like at the hotel pool, that didn't have a "kid" area) Bug sat next to the pool and put his feet in the water. Then he commanded me to swim to the other side, or to go "unner" the water. And one time...just once...the baby within pushed just right on my bladder, and I realized I had about .02 seconds before I couldn't contain it...and...well....we don't necessarily have to finish that story. But come on! Pregnant woman in pool + toddler that doesn't want to leave pool + not enough time to get to the proper facilities even without a toddler that would scream and resist the whole way = I guess you're welcome to come swim in my toilet.

Near the end of the week, we got to go out to dinner with the Hubs' new boss (by the way, the Hubby got a promotion, and it goes public today, so I'm gushing on the blog about it) and some other work friends. We went to Pappadeaux Seafood Restaurant. Bug ate some alligator and loved it so much, he threw a fit when it was gone. Too bad it was the appetizer for the whole table. And I ate crawfish etouffee (my first time eating crawfish and etouffee, which I've wanted to try since the first time I saw the movie The Princess and the Frog). By the way, it is 10 times more embarrassing to have your kid throw a fit when you are in the company of your husband's employers and they are the ones paying for the meal.

All in all, it was a pretty good week. Although, I did have to eat pizza four different times. (I remembered to bring Tums, so I guess it wasn't so bad!) And the trip back home went much the same as the trip down. "Where on earth could Bug be?"

16 hours.

Tra la la

2010-06-25T05:00:00.000-07:00

[All posts this week have been scheduled. I am on "vacation" (accompanying my husband on a business trip) right now in the Dallas, TX area. Probably dying of heat. I will, hopefully, blog all about the trip when we get back. Including the insanely long drive, the insanely hot heat, the insanely boring days, etc.]

We now have a piano in the house. We actually traded our Wii (and all games/accessories) for my mom's piano. We figured, "Hey, we never play our Wii, and we want a piano. Mom never plays the piano, and might want a Wii." My youngest sister is a little upset about the trade...even though she never played the piano. But, I figure she'll be ok, because she has a guitar, and she's really good at playing that!

The piano is OLD. And it looks it. Living through years of torture from my and my sisters, plus whatever torture before then...and now the torture of Bug! The piano started out as -my- grandma's piano. I'm not sure exactly when she got it, but I think the piano was made in 1963. It was never fancy. My mom acquired the piano when my sisters and I were all really young. We all had piano lessons (mine lasted for four years, and I still can't hardly play! Goes to show that practice really is important!) and we all abused the piano. It has water stains on it from being used as a side table. The keys are dirty and discolored. Some of the keys are chipped. And four of the black keys have come off (but that has mostly been Bug's doing). Chips, dents, scratches, water marks, and more. Plus, the thing hasn't been tuned in YEARS! And it has been through a couple of moves, too. So, it sounds pretty miserable. Oh, and the E flat key sticks.

Since we have had it in our home, I have been doing my best to train Bug to treat it nicely. The first rule for Bug to learn: The piano is NOT a train track! He seems to think it is a nice track to run his toys across (hence the four black keys that have come off). We also remind Bug to -only- use his fingers on the keys and to be soft. That means no toys of any sort. That means don't bang your head on it. Don't stand on it. Don't pound. Use your fingers and be soft!!!! I think it might take awhile before he remembers that particular rule! Rule three, no climbing on the piano. It might offer a pretty nice view of the room when you are sitting on the very top, but it isn't very nice to climb on a piano! Rule four, you are only allowed the play the piano from 8am to 8pm. We live in an apartment building. I really don't want my neighbors to have another reason to hate us (you know, on top of all the other noise that Bug tends to make). Hopefully he will learn to treat the piano nicely. And maybe I will start practicing again and finally learn how to play!

Also, we are planning on painting the piano bright red, to make it look more inviting. (Since fixing it up to look like a nice piano is not a monetary option.) I found this great link on painting a piano (via Progressive Pioneer). Can't wait until it's done!

Bug-isms

2010-06-23T05:00:00.000-07:00

Mean Bug

2010-06-21T05:00:00.000-07:00

[All posts this week have been scheduled. I am on "vacation" (accompanying my husband on a business trip) right now in the Dallas, TX area. Probably dying of heat. I will, hopefully, blog all about the trip when we get back. Including the insanely long drive, the insanely hot heat, the insanely boring days, etc.]

Bug recently found out that bugs (the real kind, not the toddler variety) can be mean!

He got stung by a wasp.

And we were -inside- the house, even!

I think we have some wasps living under the siding right outside our back door. We really need to get rid of them, because almost every time we open the door, one of them finds its way inside. And Bug is a boy. He loves creepy, crawly things. Usually, he likes to disable the creepy, crawly thing, so he can carry it around without it getting away from him. His favorite things are ants. They are easy to catch, and easy to squish to the brink of death (while still allowing them to wiggle a bit in their agony). He also really likes June beetles (or potato beetles, whatever those things are called). Nice and orange. Round. Large enough to be easy to grasp, but not too big that they are intimidating. Luckily, they don't bite. So I'm ok with Bug carrying the gross things around. I don't mind bugs, usually. The older I get, the less tolerant of them I am becoming, though.

Anyway, a wasp got in our house. It flew around, hitting and bumping the ceiling, the light, the door and the walls. I think that was just making it ill-tempered. But, then it fell behind the couch, and I forgot about it. The next day, I was sitting on the computer (probably reading blogs) when I heard Bug SCREAM. It was a mixture between a terrified scream and an in-pain scream. I ran to him as fast as I could. He was standing next to our sliding back door, holding his finger (and sticking his whole hand in his mouth, before he would pull it back out and hold his finger again). My mother's intuition, I guess, told me right away that he had been stung by that wasp. I looked in the corner of the door's track, and there was the wasp, slightly disabled, but still alive.

I rushed to the kitchen, with Bug in my arms, and got him a wet paper towel to hold over his finger. Then I called my mom, "What was the mixture you used to put on our bee stings? Corn starch or baking soda? Baking soda. Got it. Love you. Bye!"

I mixed up some baking soda and water. Then I look all over Bug's finger to find out exactly where the sting was. His whole finger was red and swelling up. Directly around where the sting was, though, the skin was white, with a little red dot at the site of the sting. I slathered on some baking soda mix. I then told Bug not to lick it (as he stuck his tongue out and was bringing his hand up to his mouth). I decided it wrap the finger in a wet paper towel over the mixture, to keep Bug from eating the paste!

He only cried for a little bit. Then he fell asleep. (It was time for his nap, anyway!) His finger was quite swollen for a couple hours. But Bug was a real trooper! And he forgot about the pain quickly. Although, he is still afraid that there is going to be a wasp by the door!

Right after I took care of my little guy, I grabbed the nearest magazine (the latest edition of the Ensign), rolled it up, and beat the living daylights out of that wasp! Take that!

Sleep Sharing Bliss

2010-06-17T05:00:00.001-07:00

"You don't know what you've got 'til it's gone", right?

The other night I had an epiphany. I love sharing my bed with my kid.

It was one of those days. You know, the kind that starts early in the morning and doesn't include an afternoon nap....or any nap for that matter. So, around 7:48pm, Bug turned into a whining, screaming, thrashing, fighting, terrorizing, monster. Oh, it was bad.

Unfortunately, I kept getting caught up in things around me (like planning our trip to Texas, or cleaning up the water that Bug got all over the bathroom, or realizing that I let my Red Raspberry Leaf tea steep for nearly two hours...). So, it wasn't until 8:15pm that I realized I needed to just stop and put the kid to sleep. And, since he's been sleeping in his own bed, I needed to get him to sleep without laying down next to him. Let me tell you, it is ridiculously difficult to calm a tantruming toddler, when you are trying to sit in a squeaky glider and you have no room on your lap (due to your hugely pregnant belly) and you are so exhausted that it's hard to contain the toddler's flailing arms and legs. I may or may not have swatted his butt a couple of times to get him to pay attention to me. I think I got lucky, though. Because after singing two songs, I was able to transfer Bug to his own bed, and he stayed asleep.

Later that night, when the hubs and I went to bed, Bug briefly woke up and started crying (because Bug's bed is at the foot of our bed...and the hubs has a noisy electric toothbrush). We quickly calmed him down again, and he stayed in his bed. But, then, as I was laying in my own bed, I could hear the post-cry hiccups that Bug had, even in his sleep. It made my heart ache to hold him close, so he would know that his mommy loves him. Really, REALLY, really loves him. (In fact, I was aching so much, and telling my husband all about it, the he even offered to get Bug and bring him to bed with us! I have such a sensitive and loving husband!!!)

And I realized that, although I complained all the time about sharing a bed with Bug, I loved it. Because it was a time where I could give Bug 100% of my attention. If he needed anything, I was right next to him to help. When we were nursing, the breast was right there for him. Even if he wasn't nursing, I could offer him his sippy cup. And there was always a soft and warm body there, letting him know that he was safe and secure. I can't offer that kind of parenting during the day, no matter how hard I try. And I must admit, I don't often try. I -want- to be able to offer my child everything he needs. I want him to know that he is loved, and that he is safe. I want him to be comfortable. But it isn't always a reasonable option during the hustle and bustle of the day.

And THAT is why I love sharing my bed.

Permission to Complain

2010-06-15T05:00:00.000-07:00

Week 28 was the beginning of the fetal hiccups. Oh, how I hate those hiccups. More annoying than an eye twitch, I tell ya! When I was pregnant with Bug, I always felt those repetitive baby jumps. I was hoping and hoping that this baby would not get the hiccups...at all...or at least not as often. It seems that is not going to be the case, however. Once they start, they almost never go away.

Which brings me to a topic I have thought much about: my large and growing number of complaints. I am a complainer. I was before I got pregnant. But, there is something about pregnancy that brings out the worst of it in me. My poor husband. My poor anyone-who-ever-talks-to-me. I think most of the reason I complain is to get attention. (Gosh, I can't believe I'm admitting this even to myself!) It is also nice to mark my complaints in my journal or here on my blog, so I can look back at them and say, "That was normal" or "I actually, secretly, liked that". Or it is nice to get reassurance, after complaint, from other women who have experienced similar problems. Perhaps -I- am the other woman, helping another. Wouldn't that be nice if my complaints were really to benefit others?

Whatever the reason is that makes me complain, it never is really that bad. Well...except for the SPD. And the heartburn. And having to pee 12 million times a day. And not being able to breathe. And the swollen feet. And the itchy skin. And the nausea. And the fatigue. And....

Really, you probably wouldn't believe me if I told you that I love being pregnant!

Bed Bug

2010-06-11T06:23:00.000-07:00

The hubs and I have been working on getting Bug into his own bed. Although I've loved sharing a bed with Bug, there are times when it is quite annoying and frustrating! And now that we only have a few more months before the baby comes, we feel like we need to buckle down and get the big boy into his own bed. I definitely don't think it would be safe to have Bug and the baby in the same bed, even with mommy and daddy there! (And for my sanity, I need to be able to nurse the baby in bed!!!)

The hubby is doing most of the work (e.g., laying next to Bug's toddler bed until midnight). I figure that is what will work best, though. And he might as well get used to it, because he'll have to be the one to put Bug to bed when I'm busy with a newborn!

Night 1: Bug went to sleep fairly easily in his own bed, although later than we wanted him to. He slept until 4am, when he then fell out of bed and knocked his head. The hubs slept through the noise and crying, so I lugged my large pregnant self out of bed and brought Bug into my bed. (Then I went pee before I settled back down, because if I'm already up...I might as well!) Awake at 8am.

Night 2: Bug fought sleeping in his own bed just a little bit. The hubs laid on the floor next to the toddler bed until nearly midnight. Bug slept in his own bed until 7am.

Night 3: Bug missed his daily nap, and fell asleep in my lap (on the couch) at 8:30pm. The hubs moved him to his little bed. He slept great! Although, we did hear him a couple of times awake at night, he just moved into a more comfortable position, took a drink from his sippy, and went back to sleep on his own! He didn't get out of bed until 8:30am. Twelve glorious hours of wonderful sleep in his own bed!

Night 4: Fought it hard. Hubs on floor until midnight. Bug fell out of bed at 3am, but slept on the floor for half an hour. When he woke up and realized he wasn't in bed, he cried. The hubs put him back into bed. Bug pushed the hubs away, he apparently wanted to go back to sleep on his own. Bug got up around 6:30am.

Night 5: Fought it hard...but not quite as hard as the previous night. Hubs on floor until midnight. Mom out of bed to go pee at midnight. Bug restless and whiny. Finally, mom gets annoyed because she can't sleep with Bug making so much noise, and has the hubs bring him into our bed. Mom out of bed again, to pee, at 3am. All awake by 7:30am.

I'm seriously debating whether or not I want to cut out Bug's daily nap. As you can see, the day he missed his nap resulted in the best night of sleep for us all! It's a work in progress. And I haven't been good at getting Bug to nap in his own bed...usually we both nap together in my bed. The hubs says that has got to stop, because Bug needs to learn that he only gets to sleep in his own bed. Usually, I'm too exhausted by nap time to fight, though! Of course, if I cut out Bug's nap altogether, I will be doubly exhausted...but it might mean twelve hours of sleep for us all!

We'll just keep working on it. Hopefully we will all get into a happy and restful routine!

Why I hate Cheerios

2010-06-08T13:08:00.000-07:00

Anybody remember my "Banana Poop" post? (Which gets a surprisingly high number of hits from searches, by the way!) Well, banana poop is like a fresh spring breeze in comparison to...

Cheerio poop.

Now, Bug has been eating the little round O's of oaty goodness for quite a while. He actually prefers the honey nut variety (which I willingly buy, because I'll eat them, too). For the past several months, Bug has actually succeeded in eating a toddler-sized bowl of cereal for breakfast, complete with a couple tablespoons of milk in the bottom of the bowl. He even uses a spoon...er....usually. Some mornings, he will eat oatmeal, which he actually loves! Some mornings, I (or, more likely, the hubby) get fancy and make eggs, toast, hash browns, bacon, ad nauseum. But, Bug doesn't eat the eggs. Some mornings, I make crumb cake, which I promise is a legitimate breakfast, or pancakes. Some mornings, I peel the kid a banana. But, most mornings, I give Bug a bowl of honey nut flavored, toasted oat O's.

And, most afternoons, I regret it.

I don't know how to honey nut coat it, but it causes the most horrendous diaper changes...other than those other horrendous kinds, because we all know if there are solid foods making poop, it is never pretty. Let me just give you a brief idea of how it goes: mom sits down with a full container of wipes and a fresh diaper. Mom opens up diaper and uses one wipe. Two wipes. Three wipes. Four wipes. Five wipes...By this time, mom starts weighing the cost/benefit of just sticking the kiddo in the shower for a while. Mom figures she will try two more wipes. Please note that majority of the poop was wiped off that cute little bum with only two wipes. The remaining wipes are being used to try to remove the stubbornly sticky poop flecks. The damning characteristic of Cheerio poop. Mom wipes. They stay. Mom wipes again. They move over an inch, but do not come off the kiddo's rear. Mom wipes with a pinching technique. Two come off. Twelve million remain. Seven wipes later, mom sticks kid in the shower. Mom remembers next time to not sit down with a fresh diaper and wipes, but to go straight for the fresh diaper and towel.

You'd think I would just stop feeding him Cheerios for breakfast...and snacks throughout the day. But it's the easiest, cheapest, cleanest, minimal prep, most devoured snack/meal that I can find. What can I say? I'm a lazy mom. And Bug loves those showers.

As requested...

2010-05-27T05:00:00.000-07:00

This is my most recent belly picture, at 24 weeks (which was also Mother's Day). I have only been taking photos every four weeks (and I didn't start until 16 weeks) this pregnancy, so I don't have very many right now. And if I decide to put more pregnancy pictures up here on my blog, you all will have to wait until sometime after the four week marks! By the way, I was comparing my size to how big I was when I was pregnant with Bug, and I wasn't this big (as I am here in this picture of 24 weeks) until I was 32 weeks with Bug!!! Enjoy!

PS- I always seem to have this "come on and take the picture already" look on my face. Can't seem to take a belly shot without it! Maybe it's the "I'm expecting a baby" look...hmmmm?

Stereotyping Myself

2010-05-26T09:07:00.000-07:00

Recently, my hubby casually mentioned that it seems I have a need to stereotype myself. He wasn't trying to be mean, it was just an observation. It definitely made me stop and think. It's true, I do stereotype myself. And I kind of like it. But, why?

I took some time to really mull over in my brain why I am always categorizing myself into certain groups. I think I figured out why.

"It is a sociological fact that women need women. We need deep and satisfying and loyal friendships with each other." -Marjorie Hinckley
"...women have the same basic needs—no matter in what era they live. We have the same needs of food, clothing, warmth, protection. We have the same emotional and psychological needs of wanting to love and be loved, to give understanding, to be accepted, to find self-fulfillment, to express ourselves." -Barbara B. Smith
“As women we are becoming so concerned about having perfect figures, or straight A’s, or professional status, or even absolute motherly success that we are being torn from our true selves. We often worry so much about pleasing and performing for others that we lose our own uniqueness, that full and relaxed acceptance of ourselves as a person of worth and individuality.” -Patricia Holland
[italics are mine]

My stereotyping includes calling myself "crunchy" or "a modern day hippie, minus the drugs and free love". I find myself trying to connect and identify with other women who: breastfeed longer than a year, don't remove body hair frequently, share sleep with their kids, don't vaccinate their kids, don't use shampoo, don't circumcise their sons, use reusable/cloth menstrual products, have homebirths, have unassisted homebirths, rarely wear makeup, wear their babies in soft carriers, wash their face with honey, prefer alternative medicine, don't watch TV, don't paint their nails, want to have large families (quiverfull), don't use products in their hair, are skeptical of the excuses for high c-section rates and low breastfeeding rates, prefer wearing long skirts/modest clothing/minimal jewelry, have a desire to homestead/garden, put their babies in cloth diapers, are artistic and crafty (painting, crocheting/knitting, sewing), want to eat healthy/locally grown food, cherish and know about their bodies and fertility cycles, think natural/drug free childbirth is the best option, want to homeschool/unschool their kids, are anti-hormonal birth control.

I don't know if I can really come up with a comprehensive list of things that set me apart from the average modern woman, but all these things are ME. These things are me, but at the same time, I am still insecure. These are the things that I WANT to be. I am still a young adult. I am still trying to figure myself out and be confident in myself. Sure, I may be married and be working on my second child, but I haven't made it to the "I don't give a darn" phase of my life. Of course, all women want to have good friends. And I know my good friends don't have to be all those things that make me who I am, but it is nice to have friends that agree with me on some things! It's especially hard when I am often looked at as being "radical", "different" and "controversial". It's ok if I have a friend who thinks I'm crazy for not wanting an epidural to birth my kids, but it's hard to have a friend who wants to call CPS on me because I want to have an unassisted homebirth. Women need other women to support them. That is why I stereotype myself. I give myself a label, so I can go find other women who are like me, and who will support me in that particular aspect of my life.

Stereotyping often has a negative connotation to it. However, this is the kind of stereotyping that I don't think is negative. It helps me see who I am, who I am proud of being (even if I am still a little insecure). It helps me find other women who I can identify with, and it helps other women find me. It helps me to express myself. So, if you are also a "modern day hippie, minus the drugs and free love", label yourself as such, and we can find acceptance with each other!

Oh, my achin' pelvis!

2010-05-17T07:42:00.000-07:00

How horrible is it that I didn't write anything about Mother's Day, on this blog that is all about being a mother?? So, a whole week later, I did want to mention a little bit about my Mother's Day. The Saturday before, the Hubs took me out on a date. We walked around a large mall, and ate at our favorite Mexican restaurant (where I actually tried to speak confidently in Spanish, and made myself look like an idiot...and the hubby wonders why I rarely try...) The dawn of Mother's Day came peeking through our bedroom blinds. I kept my eyes closed and laid on the bed in a drowsy half sleep. I heard Bug squirming beside me. Then, I felt two little fingers grasp my old mascara and sleep encrusted eyelashes and pull one eye open. "Boo!" said Bug, once my eye was open enough that he could see me in there. There really is little better than a "good morning" from a two year old!

I also got a comment from a friend at church, on Mother's Day, that I was looking "so big"! Apparently, I officially, undeniably, unquestionably look pregnant. Another friend overheard the "so big" comment and later said to me, "I don't think you are getting big." I told her that it was ok if I was getting big...because I'm pregnant, and I'm -supposed- to be getting big! She said, "Yeah, I know. But you don't have to say it that way. It just sounds bad." I asked her if people should instead say, "My, my, you are looking very pregnant today!" And I think that works.

And while we are on the topic of pregnancy (like I ever talk about anything else, right hubby?) I have diagnosed myself with Symphysis Pubis Dysfunction (much to the hubby's exasperation, right hubby?). Some people think that I [over]diagnose myself with minor annoyances just to get out of doing my squats to prepare for birth. Not true. I honestly have a horrible pain in my pubic ligaments! ESPECIALLY when I roll over in bed. And even when I am just walking around like normal. I probably irritate it by climbing over the gate to get in and out of my kitchen 15 million times a day! This is one thing that I didn't have to deal with during my first pregnancy. A friend of mine assured me that all the real aches and pains show up in the second pregnancy.

My poor husband. He is such a guy. You know how guys are...they want to fix everything. And they think there should be or actually is a solution to everything. This makes voicing pregnancy complaints annoying for both of us (maybe I should just keep my mouth shut, for both of us....but then I wouldn't be a woman!). He says, "Do this and it will probably go away." I say, "No way am I going to do that, because it will make it worse!" I'm telling ya, you can't fight Relaxin!

Pregnancy Dreams...or Nightmares

2010-05-06T09:42:00.000-07:00

Like most women, when I am pregnant, I have some of the most whacked-out, super-realistic, wake-up-crying-or-in-some-sort-of-distress-or-shock, crazy dreams. When I was pregnant with Bug, I had horrible dreams of hating (and sometimes beating) my wonderful husband for some reason or another. Or I would have dreams of [pick your insects of choice] infesting my skin and bed and everything. Weird. Not good weird. When I finally got tired of waking up in tears, I had the hubs give me a blessing. I was told that my dreams would no longer bother me. And they didn't, but I never really stopped having those strange and disturbing dreams.

This pregnancy is no different. Well, I haven't had a dream where I needed to strangle my husband, but the dreams are just as real. And they are somewhat unsettling. They don't bother me enough that I have woken up bawling, though. And I guess that's a good thing. But there have been some dreams that leave me wondering what the HECK I was dreaming THAT for!? Like...things that would probably have my temple recommend up in flames if I was intentionally thinking them while conscious! Strange and disturbing.

But the dream that DID wake me up with an increased pulse was probably something to laugh about. (Which is why I am putting it on my blog, I guess!) It was a pregnancy dream in the most literal sense. I was largely pregnant. And seeing an OB. (But that isn't what got my pulse up, exactly). What bothered me, was that I told the OB that I didn't want him to use a doppler on me to hear the baby's heartbeat....AND THEN HE STARTED HOOKING STUFF UP TO ME. Of course, dopplers aren't hooked up to you, but it was an intervention that had nothing to do with labor/delivery, that I absolutely didn't want. It took me a minute to realize what he was doing. Then, I freaked out! I ripped all the wires and cords off of my body and I ran away as fast as I could. I yelled and screamed that he couldn't do that to me. But he told me I had no choice.

Talk about disturbing. I feel like it was a subconscious manifestation of my fear of birthing in a hospital. Or maybe giving power to someone else. I'm not really sure. But it bothered me, all the same.

In the Alphabet Book

2010-05-04T10:46:00.000-07:00

Several months ago, we bought Bug some alphabet books. I have been wanting some cute books to help me teach him all those things that mothers are supposed to teach their toddlers (ABC's, colors, shapes, etc.) The pack of alphabet books we got contained 26 books. One book for each letter of the alphabet. And in each book, there are three, easy-to-turn-by-toddler-fingers cardboard pages. Each page has a picture of something that begins with the letter that the book is dedicated to. Cute, fun, easy.

Bug will bring me a pile of the books and have me read each one to him several times, while he points and tries to repeat everything I say. Except, Bug doesn't need to repeat everything after me, because already knows some of the words for the pictures. I am always excited when Bug shows some new bit of knowledge, without excessive prompting from mom or dad!

I think Bug's favorite alphabet book is the "F" book. Why? Because he knows all the words for the pictures on his own! The "F" book pictures include a fish, a flower and a foot. Bug brings the book over to me and climbs and wiggles his way onto my steadily vanishing lap. Then he opens the book to the first page. There is a picture of a fish. Bug points and says, "fsh".

"That's right!" I praise my son, as he gazes up at me with a smug little expression on his face. Then, he turns the page. There is a picture of a flower. Bug points and says, "fower".

"Yep, that's a flower!" I confirm that he is correct. Bug is so proud of himself for knowing words without any help from mommy. He turns to the last page, the picture of a foot. He points at the foot and looks toward me, ready to impress me once again. He is sure that he knows this word, too.

Without a single pause of uncertainty, Bug declares the name of the foot, "Ew!"

The Birds

2010-04-27T07:03:00.000-07:00

I really hate doing posts full of random information. But I haven't been consistent enough in my blogging, so when I finally get around to writing a post, there are a billion different things that have happened that are "blog worthy"! I know that if I don't just go ahead and put them all in one post, they will get forgotten.

So, to start things off...The hubs felt our little baby move for the first time this past Sunday. It was two weeks past the time that he felt Bug move, so he was pretty anxious for those kicks to get strong enough. And, although they were strong enough for a while, we have quite the elusive baby!

We also had our first visit with our midwife. The visit was originally scheduled for last week, but the midwife had another client that was having a baby! It was actually the fourth time she has been to our home, so we didn't really have to get acquainted, but it was a nice "first" visit. I have asked for no vaginal exams, so I didn't have to worry about that. Basically, we just talked about how I envision myself giving birth. (And we talked about the state mandatory PKU test that I will have to get county information for, before the baby comes. It's the only real test that is required by law, so I can't exactly refuse it, like I am doing with all the other stuff!) Oh, and I know I picked the right midwife, because she let me do the pee stick test (glucose, protein, ketones, etc.) all on my own. There was ABSOLUTELY nothing degrading about her visit at all. I always hated my visits with the OB during my pregnancy with Bug. I would have to strip down and lay a giant paper towel over my lap. Then expose my most private parts while my feet were in stirrups. I would have to pee in a cup, then hand it off to some stranger through the little window in the bathroom. I would be subjected to all kinds of questioning, not comfortable conversation, within the 5 or so minutes that the doc was actually by my side. I was weighed, squeezed, poked and prodded while at the OB's office. None of that happened in my home with my midwife. Ok, well...I was prodded a little bit while she felt for fundal height and fetal position (apparently, I sit in squishy and comfy seats too often, because I currently have a posterior kiddo!!!) But it was done on my own couch, and I was fully clothed. That makes a big difference!

As you can see, I am extremely happy to be having a non-medicalized birth (and pregnancy) experience this time around. It's exactly what I wanted last time, but I didn't know enough to actually get it! (As I have learned, if you do home birth in Ohio, you are kind of in this secret underground world. It was a bit difficult for me to get into it all!) But, no matter how much I want to have an unassisted childbirth, I will admit that it is nice to have a friendly person watching out for you and your baby!

Also, I have been DYING to hear the baby's heartbeat. You know, to confirm that this whole pregnancy isn't just in my head. (Sometimes my irrational self thinks that!) But, we don't want to use any ultrasound device, including a doppler. So, my midwife used her fetascope, and she was able to pick up a very faint "vibrating" sound that was the baby's heartbeat. But, because of the baby's posterior position, it was difficult to find and hear. So, I still haven't heard the heartbeat. I guess I'll hear it once the baby's born...but I really want to hear it while I'm pregnant still!!

And now for the story about the birds. (I'm sure you all have been wondering why the title of this post is The Birds, and I'm just now mentioning birds.) In the corner of our small deck, we have an open, half empty bag of potting soil. The other day, I thought I saw a small bird fly into the bag. I told the hubby, "There's a bird in that bag!" So, he and Bug went out to investigate. They got really close, and I was beginning to wonder if the bird hadn't really flown into the bag. Bug was the closest and as the hubs leaned over the bag to peer inside of it, a bird burst out of the bag into full flight! (I really think the bird hit Bug in the chest on its way out, because nearly every time since then, when I mention "the bird" Bug hits his chest while saying, "Birrr".) It was very exciting to have the bird fly out, but it scared poor Bug. He refuses to get too close to the bag now!

A day or two later, I went out and looked in the bag. I was NOT expecting a bird to be in there, I was just curious about why a bird was in there before. But, to my surprise, a bird flew out once I got really close. Once the bird was out, I looked into the bag. It was full of leaves and twigs and pine needles. That bird was building a nest in our bag of dirt!!! I couldn't figure out what kind of bird it was, because I was always seeing it while it was in flying away at full speed. I knew it was small and brownish. I guessed it was either a brown creeper or a tufted titmouse.

Finally, yesterday (too chilly to go out or have the door open), I was sitting on the floor at an angle that allowed me to see the bag of soil. And I finally saw the birds while they were sitting still!!! I successfully identified the birds as........HOUSE WRENS!

I am excited about the learning opportunity that this could be for Bug, but I don't want to cause any harm to the birds (especially the babies, when they hatch). But it has been very uplifting to me, to have song birds nesting in my bag of dirt!

Weaned.

2010-04-14T06:00:00.000-07:00

When I first got pregnant with Bug, and started thinking about breastfeeding, I knew I wanted to nurse at least a year. That was the AAP's recommendation. So, I nursed a year. In the meanwhile, though, I had learned that nursing never really loses its benefits. The WHO's recommendation was to nurse for two years (and longer if desired by both mother and child). So, I decided that I wanted to nurse for two years. I loved the idea of child-led weaning (CLW)...even though there were times when I refused to let Bug nurse, and I think that's against the rules of CLW. All the same, I knew that if Bug wanted to keep nursing after he turned two, I would let him. Even when I got pregnant, I knew I wanted to keep nursing Bug, if he wanted it. I often thought about tandem nursing Bug and the new baby. I really had mixed feelings about it, as I have had mixed feelings about nursing whenever it gets difficult! But, I knew I would do it, if that's what Bug really wanted and needed.

Bug is only a couple of weeks away from turning two. For the past couple of weeks, Bug has only been nursing for nap time, and rarely for bedtime. Everyday around 2pm, Bug would demand to nurse...and if he couldn't nurse, he wouldn't nap. I figured that I would be nursing him down for a nap for a long time still, because he seemed so attached to that. It wasn't so bad for me though, because it meant I could lay down for a nap, too. (And what pregnant woman doesn't want to take a daily nap??)

Apparently, a long Saturday away from home and then a long Sunday, with afternoon church services, would be all that Bug needed to decide he didn't need his nursies any more. When Monday's nap time came around, all Bug wanted was to hold his nursies...but he didn't want to nurse. And he fell asleep. Same for Tuesday. Today is day five of absolutely no nursing [so far].

I think I'm a little bit in shock with it all. I really did want to wean Bug. And I had been secretly hoping that he would decide he was done with it -before- the new baby came. But, at the same time, I have enjoyed how easy it made parenting. I've been going through the pros and cons of nursing a toddler a lot lately. And, consequently, I have been arguing back and forth with myself about whether to wean...or not.

Cons:
-I must be with Bug in order for him to nurse. That gives me less time for myself.
-Sometimes, especially once I became pregnant, nursing HURT! (Especially once my milk supply vanished.)
-Bug often would whine and pull at my shirt and throw a fit if I wouldn't/couldn't nurse him exactly when he wanted to nurse.

Pros:
-Magic Mommy Milk soothes tears of all kinds (whether there is actually milk in there or not!)
-Teeny tiny bits of immunity boosting colostrum are probably still getting into Bug's system, even if I think I'm as dry as the Sahara!
-Easy way to get Bug to sleep.
-Easy way to keep Bug in bed when -I- want to sleep!
-I cherish the closeness and bonding that we have in the nursing relationship (provided I'm not all touched out and cranky when Bug decides he wants to nurse!)

This is definitely not a comprehensive list. It's hard to remember every feeling I have about nursing when I haven't nursed Bug in 5 days! But, I always realize that the Pros list is longer. That's why I was willing to keep it up, even when it was hard or annoying.

I'm kind of surprised that Bug decided he didn't need his nursies anymore, before he turned two. I really thought we would make that milestone (and we were SO close!!). But, I have to remember, this isn't a race for me to win. It was all about making sure my child had all the physical and emotional support that he needed, when he needed it. And I'm still doing that, just in different ways.

So now, when we lay in bed for nap time, I just let Bug put his hands up my shirt and hold on to his nursies. It's a process, both gentle and turbulent. I'm just glad to know that Bug will never wean off of hugs and kisses!

Baby Nudges

2010-04-12T08:14:00.000-07:00

This is my first time trying to blog while pregnant. I'm discovering that it is difficult for me. Really, keeping up with any project has been difficult for me. I have ZERO motivation to do anything other than read Ina May's Guide to Childbirth for the hundredth time!

Let me tell you what I have been trying to work on, with no real success, during this pregnancy.
-I have been trying to sew a patchwork skirt. It is so ridiculously close to being done...but it has been sitting in the closet for the past two months.
-I have a series of three paintings (that are actually pregnancy/childbirth/breastfeeding related) that I started, but haven't finished yet. They have been sitting under the computer desk for the past three months.
-I have been trying to read some casual fiction books. I made it through Alice in Wonderland, but not Through the Looking Glass.
-I always try to work on housework (i.e., halfheartedly straighten up). I don't think there is ever real success there.
-I have been trying to learn Spanish with the Rosetta Stone software on which we spent a small fortune. Pretty much as soon as I found out I was pregnant, I started napping instead of speaking espanol!

Sadly, I ~~don't even think that is~~ know that isn't a complete list of the things I have been unsuccessful in completing (see, I can't even make a complete list)! I blame the baby -poor unborn kiddo- for "eating my brain". Spoonerisms and my new found (and rarely needed before) relationship with spell check are also evidence that my brain is slowly liquefying this pregnancy.

BUT, I am finally getting to the part of being pregnant that makes being pregnant super fun! First of all, the smell of food no longer makes me want to lay on the couch and die. That's always a good thing! Second, the bloat that put me in maternity clothes at 8 weeks has now grown into a bonefide baby belly...and people are commenting on it and my pregnancy! "You have such a cute belly!" "How are you feeling?" "You're lookin' pregnant now!" You know you are pregnant when you get comments like those!

And finally....(we'll ignore the heartburn, because that isn't super fun)....baby nudges! I am finally feeling the baby move and kick every day. I felt a tiny little flutter one day around 12 weeks. Then nothing for a week or so. Then I felt another little nudge. Then nothing. Then a little more. They are building up, slowly and calmly, but steadily.

When I was pregnant with Bug, I felt the first movements at 16 weeks. And from what I remember, they picked up very quickly. And they got pretty hard, really fast. The hubs even got to feel the movement by 20 weeks.

This time, it isn't coming on so rapidly. I DID feel movement much earlier. But it hasn't come on all at once. (I'm really thinking, and hoping, that this baby is a girl. I know every pregnancy is different, but I can still hope!) This baby is much more mellow. I'm totally ok with that! Bug is a firecracker!! I need a chill kid to keep the family balanced. Even now, at the time of my previous pregnancy when other people could feel the jabs, the kicks I feel are feeble. But it is enough to know that I really do have a healthy baby growing in there. It is very satisfying.

The next 20 or so weeks are going to just fly by!

A Tale of Two Homes

2010-03-30T16:27:00.000-07:00

On Sunday night, the Hubs gently reminded me that we were going to be having guests over the next evening. I was sitting on the living room floor at our "diaper changing station", diaper in hand, trying to coax Bug over so I could change his sagging bottom. I looked around at our living room. From my point of view, I could see that there were smashed Goldfish over by the couch. Dried Play-Doh crumbs scattered here and there. A week's worth of crusty who-knows-what's under Bug's high chair. Ripped pieces of Bug's markered art work flung about the room. A disheveled pile of blankets. Jackets and shoes. Spilled dirt from the beautiful and fragrant hyacinth that was recently given to us and placed on an overly cluttered mantle. Important documents (probably bills long needing to be paid) piled up on the counter. Dirty dished stacked up by the sink. Shiny smears on the kitchen table, probably indicating spilled milk that didn't get wiped up. Toys...lots of them and all out of place. And I probably haven't counted everything!

I thought about all the work I would have to do the next morning to get this place ready for company, and my pregnant body groaned in protest. I had a sudden longing for a clean, beautiful, and orderly home that somehow would stay that way. I knew that would be impossible.

But...I began thinking...What if I had TWO homes. I could have one house to keep purely for visits from guests. And another house to live in and not worry about the messes. That would be PERFECT. I could go all domestic diva and actually have a style. Matching couch, curtains, dish towels, paint, and fresh flowers in a mod deco vase. Pricey and intriguing art on the walls. A wicker patio set on the deck. Large windows letting in natural lighting from our spacious yard (north facing, of course!) Don't forget the vacuum stripes on the floor, for that fresh and clean look. Oh, yes. That would be the house we would use for hosting guests. It would always be clean (because I would hire a maid or...because I wouldn't actually live there).

I would be perfectly fine living in the house that only gets vacuumed once a week (or less). I would be ok with throwing the dishes in the dishwasher only when we are down to having no more clean forks. I would not worry about the crumbs. The shoes don't ever have to go in the closet. As long as I never have to invite people to THAT house.

Now...if only I could afford it.

Liberty Discussions

2010-03-26T08:08:00.000-07:00

This is outside my typical realm of blogging, but I feel it is important enough to share with my readers. Some friends of mine have put together this educational community to help people better understand and feel comfortable with the political workings of our country...and how they SHOULD be. I think it is a great idea, because I am not a political person, but I feel the need to understand, so I can make wise decisions. The idea is to put the power back with the people, where it should be. I can't explain it any better, so watch this introductory clip, and visit the Liberty Discussions website!

Something about Pregnancy

2010-03-25T06:40:00.000-07:00

There really is something about pregnancy that changes everything you are comfortable with in your life. For example, I was laying in bed last night, Bug on one side (nursing, of course), Hubs on the other side (falling asleep, of course). I was trying to keep a conversation going with the Hubs, because I wasn't quite ready to just fall asleep. Then, I smelled skunk. I sniffed the air. And I asked the Hubby, "Do you smell skunk?" I sniffed the air again...and this time, I was sure I smelled skunk. "No" said the Hubs. I sniffed again, "Yeah, there is skunk smell in the air, I know it!" The Hubs then reassured me that the air smelled perfectly fine, and that I was losing my mind. Crazy...that's what he called me. Ten minutes later...."Oh, yeah. Now I smell skunk..." and the Hubby got up to make sure the back door and windows were closed all the way.

My sense of smell is obviously super human.

More than anything, pregnancy changes body shape and size. Yeah, I know that everyone on earth is aware of that. But, I wasn't prepared for how my body would respond to my second pregnancy. Actually, I wasn't prepared for how my body would respond after my first baby was born! I was easily back to my prepregnancy weight by the time Bug was 9 months old (that's how long it should take, right...9 months on, 9 months off). My proportions were different, though. I actually had to buy jeans made for a woman, rather than a teenager!!! (Shocker!) Then, I moved to a new apartment, and mysteriously gained 20lbs. TWENTY. Ok, I guess I can blame a lot of that on eating Ooey Gooey S'mores Brownies, which are just as delicious as they sound! But, seriously, being a mom does horrible things to your metabolism. (Poo poo, to all you skinny moms out there!)

Then, I got pregnant, and I realized my new prepregnancy weight was 50lbs more than what the WiiFit says I should weight. Luckily, this little baby has me craving salad and cucumbers. Oh, how I love those cucumbers!!! But, before I knew it, I was needing to wear maternity clothes. I tried squeezing into my woman shaped jeans. I even got a BellaBand, so I wouldn't have to use a rubber band, like I did for the whole first 18 weeks of my first pregnancy! But, it was not to be. I had to abandon all efforts and put on some jeans that were made specifically for excess bloating...and a baby, too. AND I WAS ONLY 8 WEEKS ALONG! (Did you notice the mention that I wore my prepregnancy -teenager- jeans until I was 18 weeks with Bug!?!? And I had to put my -woman- jeans in storage by 8 weeks with this little baby! I was NOT prepared for that!

Another something about pregnancy is that your mom will never remember to warn you about all the shocking stuff, whether it is a first pregnancy shocker, or a second pregnancy shocker (and I wouldn't be surprised if it becomes an 8th pregnancy shocker...) My mom's famous words, "Oh, yeah...I forgot about that....but it's perfectly normal!"

What's that Word?

2010-03-10T13:30:00.000-08:00

Last week, I got an email from a popular pregnancy/parenting website that told me some of the developmental feats that my 22 month old should be getting ready for. It talked about how many 22 month old children begin trying to jump off the bottom stair or hop with both feet. But, of course, don't worry if it takes another month or two before YOUR toddler does this.

I had to snort a little bit. I even mentioned the email to my father, who was visiting that night, as a kind of joke. He chuckled a bit and said, "Bug has been jumping off your coffee table for months!" Yep, he sure has! That kid has no problems, whatsoever, about jumping and hopping...with both feet!

But, the developmental aspect that Bug isn't exactly above and beyond with is speech. Bug has a friend, just a couple months older, who will repeat any word you ask him to...probably even "existentialism" and "discombobulated"! Bug isn't quite there yet. His vocabulary is minimal, but growing...Or, at least I'm putting new meanings to his handful of sounds.

For example: ("Bug's word" - translation)
"no" - no
"no" - yes
"no" - nose
"buh" - bug
"buh" - ball
"buh" - bird
"dah" - dog
"dah" - dinosaur
"dada" - Daddy
"mama" - Mommy
"bebe" - baby

Bug knows several more words that aren't listed here, but he rarely pronounces them quite correctly or uses them quite properly. Bug also has some words that are distinct, always the same, used in proper context...and hilarious! These include "uh-oh", "wow", "whoa", and "wheee"!

Kids all develop in different areas at different times and speeds. Bug will catch up eventually. In the meantime, I will take note and make fun of how cute he is!

Please Research: Nursing During Pregnancy

2010-03-01T08:59:00.000-08:00

I've mentioned in some of my previous posts that I am still nursing Bug, even though I am pregnant. Breastfeeding during pregnancy is often misunderstood and even taboo! I think some of the reasons that people are so uncomfortable with nursing during pregnancy, is because most women don't nurse very long in the first place! And nursing itself is a much debated topic in Western culture!

Then, when you add pregnancy to it, people think that the mother is being irresponsible. What if it causes the mother to miscarry? Or what if the baby isn't getting the nutrients to grow properly? There is plenty of research and information out there to show that breastfeeding during pregnancy is NOT dangerous to the unborn child. There are some circumstances where it may be advised to wean an older child (i.e., if the mother has a history of miscarriage) but weaning is rarely necessary.

When a woman is breastfeeding in a pattern often called "ecological breastfeeding", she is nursing her child as often at the child wants. This often means that a baby sleeps next to a mother and nurses frequently at night, as well as nursing frequently during the day. The stimulation of the nipple during frequent breastfeeding causes the body to produce hormones that remind the mom's body that "there is a baby here that still needs milk and a lot of attention". This means that the mom keep producing milk (as much as the baby needs) and often prevents the mother from returning to fertility, so she won't have to worry about taking care of another baby when she already has one that still needs a lot of attention. When the child gets older, he may start eating more solid foods, and start nursing less (less may be one less feeding, or even suddenly cutting out several feeding). This decrease in nipple stimulation tells the body, "Oh, I don't have to make as much milk and the baby that was so demanding before doesn't need as much attention anymore". Then, the body returns to fertility, and the mother is able to get pregnant again. But the main thing here is, the child doesn't have to wean completely for this to happen. There isn't really a known threshold, either. I think it has a lot to do with what the mother's body can handle. For myself, I didn't return to fertility until Bug was about 18 months old. Some women become fertile again much sooner (even while ecologically breastfeeding) and some take much longer.

Shortly after returning to fertility, I became pregnant. Bug was still nursing, and I didn't make him stop. Bug's nursing pattern had definitely changed from when he was a newborn, but I still feel like he was nursing pretty frequently. And he kept it up for a while at the beginning of my pregnancy, even though it was uncomfortable for me. An early pregnancy symptom is tenderness of the breasts, and that often makes nursing uncomfortable for pregnant mothers. It definitely was difficult for me, but I stuck it out and continued to let Bug nurse, because it is so comforting to him. I would like to report, however, that the discomfort of nursing has gone away.

A couple weeks ago, I realized that my milk supply had decreased to almost nothing. I noticed Bug would get frustrated as soon as he latched on, because nothing was coming out! I tried hand expressing, and only got a small, pin-head sized drop of thick, creamy, and sticky colostrum. Bug still nurses occasionally, but it is obviously only for comfort and to be close to his mommy!

When I began nursing, I told myself that I wanted to nurse to at least a year. Sometime within that first year, I knew that I wanted to nurse for as long as Bug wanted to nurse (child-led weaning). It helped me continue nursing, even when it was difficult. And, even know, I am still nursing Bug, even though he isn't getting much or anything at all! There have been times when I have refused to let Bug nurse (so I guess I don't technically qualify as practicing child-led weaning). But, mostly, Bug has become more interested in other foods and other comfort measures on his own. I (usually) enjoy nursing Bug. It is a beautiful and tender relationship that I have with him. I am sure it will be bittersweet when I realize that Bug has nursed for the last time. But until then, I will confidently nurse him...even though I'm pregnant!

Messler

2010-02-17T11:50:00.000-08:00

I am from now and henceforth (or whatever the fancy wording should be, I'm not sure my preggo brain is going to help me much in the way of looking intelligent!) changing the word "toddler" into "messler". After all, they get really good at walking pretty fast, so they aren't "toddling" very long....and then all they do is make messes!

The reason being:

Today, I have changed two poopy diapers. One of those diapers was more than just a dirty diaper. It was a dirty diaper that my messler took off himself, and successfully got "dirty" in more locations that I wished for. I put him in the shower...and I got in, too.

Today, I cleaned greasy lotion out of my messler's hair. And off my messler's hands. And off my messler's face. And I changed his outfit...again.

Today, I cleaned spaghetti sauce out of the carpet in about a billion different spots. Then, I wiped sauce off of the high chair, the table, the legs of two other chairs, and off of every visible part of my messler. Then I changed his outfit...again.

Also, my messler has taken out about 200 snack sized plastic bags and scattered them around the living room. He has dumped his toy box in the living room. He found some Styrofoam, and tore it into little pieces.

And...now I hear my messler getting into something else...I think it is nap time!

Here we go again...

2010-02-15T07:04:00.000-08:00

Snow. Snow. More snow. Toddler tantrum. One good day. Pregnancy yuckies. Vertigo. Toddler tantrum. Snow. Snow.

This past week, I had a birthday. Which always meshes together with Valentine's Day. So, I got lots of love and attention from the hubby, but I wasn't sure which holiday exactly it was for. But, I did get a big piece of cheesecake from The Cheesecake Factory. And that makes for a good weekend!

I also started seeing a midwife. Really, she doesn't do regular prenatal checkups until 20 weeks, so we just sat around and talked, pretty much. There is still that part of me (actually ~~a pretty big~~ ~~a huge~~ the majority of me) that really just wants to go completely unassisted. Darn those relationships that require compromise and all that!

Bug has started taking his own pants and diaper off when he needs a change. Unfortunately, the only time he recognizes that he needs a change is after he poops. He waddles around with his legs spread apart, the little cowboy, then proceeds to undress once he finds a suitable spot...usually over carpet. People have been telling me that means he is ready to potty train. I just wish he would wait for warmer weather!!!

If anybody is interested, yes, I am still nursing Bug. And he still sleeps in our bed. Usually, I'm satisfied with the situation. Mostly because I don't want to put in the effort to change anything. I'm ok with Bug nursing, as long as he doesn't do it for too long...because I am TENDER!!! I really do eventually want to do a whole post on nursing during pregnancy. Who knows, by the time I get around to it, it may be a post on tandem nursing!!! I guess Bug will need to be out of our bed when the new baby comes, but for now he helps keep me warm. And in the mornings, he can be really cute. The other morning, he started nursing, but was mostly asleep still. Then, all the sudden, he started giggling -while he was latched on-! The hubs and I joked that I must have "funny honey" that comes out through my milk every now and then!

I am right on the border between my first and second trimesters. It's is really hard still. Some days, I feel like I'm right in the middle of my first trimester! Exhaustion, fatigue, nausea...and even today I have been experiencing vertigo...which is probably more annoying that everything else put together! Someone, please make time go faster! Make it warm outside, and make me hugely pregnant! Everybody knows that being hugely pregnant is way better than being in the crummy stage of pregnancy!!!

To Eat or Not To Eat

2010-02-02T16:10:00.000-08:00

Oh, yes. That is the question! And not just for me. Some days, Bug will eat and eat and eat. He will clean his plate at every meal, and beg me for a snack three minutes later. Other days, I am begging him to "just take a bite" of his dinner...because I feel like he hasn't had anything to eat since his small bowl of Honey Nut Cheerios at 7am. (By the way, that kid loves Honey Nut Cheerios. Or Honey Nut Scooters or whatever the cheap brand is called! I pour a small bowl, add a little milk to soften them up, and he gobbles them down. On the days that Bug is refusing to eat, I am tempted to feed him cereal for breakfast, lunch and dinner...just so I know he has food in his stomach!) Amazing how his appetite can be so dynamic!

As for my recent eating habits...things are getting a little bit better. I have been craving a 4pm salad, complete with Caesar croutons and generously doused in Italian dressing, nearly every day. And often, a couple of cucumbers. I prefer the little salad cucumbers, because they are sweeter and almost never bitter. But, it is so frustrating to have to peel and slice enough of them to satisfy me! Those snacks mostly prevent my nausea from getting too bad. (Notice, I didn't say that my nausea had gone away. It is still there torturing me if I wait until 4:01pm before eating that salad!) It is really strange that I haven't been craving sweets at all. That is incredibly different for me! In fact, there are so many things that are different in me about this pregnancy (with the exception of ridiculously dry and flaky skin) that everyone is assuming that it MUST be a girl! I will keep my fingers crossed.

But, whether it is a girl or a boy, I am excited. Unfortunately, my sleeping has been taking a rough hit. Bug is such a bed hog and he wakes up to nurse way more often than I want him to (which is him waking up at all). I know he is old enough to night wean, but I am afraid that a night wean would really be a total wean! I don't think I'm ready for that! I just want to get him into his own bed, and see if that helps. I've loved co-sleeping with him...but with a new baby on the way, things are going to have to change! And, no matter how excited I am to have another little baby....part of me can't wait until the new baby is old enough to become Bug's new co-sleeping partner! Perhaps it won't be too long before I get my bed back, after all!

Toddlers CAN be great!

2010-01-21T11:13:00.000-08:00

Hi. Hello. Remember me?! I'm The Mother. The one who used to post frequently on this blog. The one who used to be funny and tell stories about the crazy life of a mother. I'm still here. Sometimes. For the most part, I'm still reading all those other blogs that I love to read. And sometimes....just sometimes, I actually comment on them. And every now and then, I actually get around to putting some energy into this here blog. (But it's just a little bit of energy, so don't expect anything great!)

Anyway, I'm sure you all are sick and tired of hearing about how I'm sick and tired. I figure I've only got about 3-4 more weeks of that (which means you may only have to read about 2 more posts about it all, before this pregnancy starts to get really interesting)! I'm still chugging on with life. I actually did the dishes this morning! (Honey, would you PLEASE rinse out your Tupperware when you get home. I'm afraid I won't be able to do the dishes anymore if you don't!) So...I've actually lost like 2 pounds so far. Last night I had one of my pregnant woman crazy moments. I asked the husband if he ever thought that I was faking being sick. He said....very sheepishly...that yes, he had wondered. Then, I reminded him that I can rarely finish the food on my plate anymore, and THAT is VERY out of character for me. He acknowledged that I was right, and that I probably don't fake being sick (which, for the record, I haven't...yet...but if it helps in 3-4 weeks to keep it up, I may!) Then he asked me if he could do anything for me. Wonderful, sweet man!

Bug, too, has been a wonderful and sweet ~~man~~ boy! Whenever I find myself bawling my eyes out and whining about how I can't go on in this tortured state, Bug is by my side, rubbing my arm and giving me the sweetest little toddler eyes in the whole world. He is TOTALLY going to be by my side when I go into labor! I know he will fantastic labor support. (And if I find I can't stand him at the time, my mom will be there to take him away, 'cause moms are great, too!) Oh, Bug also learned how to open doors. This is actually a great thing, at least for now, because he hasn't used his talent for ill yet! It means in the morning, he can get down and out of bed and go into the living room to play. And I get to stay in bed until I hear him destroying something! It's a wonderful life!

Can't a girl get a nap?

2010-01-13T11:12:00.000-08:00

Since the vomiting episode, life hasn't gotten much easier. Bug is...better. Of course, I'm not sure if that is the best way to describe it. He did have diarrhea for a couple days after the upchucking. And we ran out of laundry. And I was too tired to do it. THAT day, the day the earth pretty much imploded on itself, I was the one that was really sick. And not just "I'm pregnant and feel crummy all the time" sick. It was way worse.

I began the day at 4:45am. I got up and went to the bathroom to empty my stomach contents into our toilet. It was the first time this pregnancy. Then, I went back to sleep. Only to get up a little after 6am. Apparently, someone hit the repeat button, and I was in the bathroom again. Before I knew it, we were all up for the day.

I was tired. My stomach was cramping. And I didn't want to eat anything. I knew that pregnancy sickies can be made to go away (for at least a short amount of time) by eating. I tried to eat. I got down a banana. Then I had to change a diaper. A really bad diaper. And I had to change the little pants that kept that bad diaper from getting all over my carpet.

The I ate one cracker, changed another bad diaper and fished around for the only clean pair of pants for Bug. I couldn't find the pants. I looked around the house. I saw a massively destroyed living room, a kitchen piled high with stinky and dirty dishes, dirty laundry smeared with crusty poop and vomit overflowing from the hamper....and I thought about how tired and horrible I felt....then I lost it. I cried and cried.

I didn't know what to do, so I called the husband and bawled to him about how miserable I was and I begged him to come home. So, he did.

While he was on his way home, I ate one baby carrot, and crawled into bed with Bug. We were napping when he arrived. When we woke up, the dishes were done, the living room was clean, the laundry was being done. My husband is obviously a super human, one of a kind, hunk of a hero! Gosh, I love that man! He even went and got me a roast beef sandwich...even though I was only able to take three bites.

Since that day, I have been feeling better. I still feel like crap, but it's the better kind. The normal pregnant kind. I'm a little bit better at handling all the messes. For instance, I haven't cried once since that day, even though every time I go to take a nap, Bug refuses to join me and instead causes mischief around the house. Mischief like emptying bags of cereal or brown sugar onto the kitchen floor. And I was actually able to laugh when Bug stacked three -glass- cups on top of each other at my parents' house.

Toddlers sure are full of energy. It doesn't always make a good match with a mother who is so un-full of energy it is laughable! But, today, we sat down together and starting watching Tarzan, and I had tears of joy and love come to my eyes. I was reminded that even though things are really difficult right now, I love my family. I love this little boy that I helped to create. And I love my husband who works to hard for us. And I'm so excited for the little baby that will be joining us.

Now, if only I could get a nap!

I've been attacked!

2010-01-06T14:07:00.000-08:00

I have been attacked by the pregnancy crummies. Or, just the first trimester crummies, I guess. Either way, I feel crummy. Almost to the point that I have no energy or desire to do anything (other than sleep, of course.) I think I am more exhausted than I would normally be, because I am still nursing Bug. And on top of that, I feel nauseous 24/7, so I'm probably not eating as well as I should be. How can I eat well if nothing sounds good!?! I just want to keep from throwing up whatever I get down (which I have been successful with so far).

And, speaking of throwing up....Bug did. All over me. And himself. AT A LA LECHE LEAGUE MEETING. That I didn't drive to by myself.

So, I changed his clothes, and cleaned up the both of us as best as I could. But I still smelled it. And I sat through the meeting (my ride was the leader of the group, so I couldn't exactly beg her to take me home), feeling very nauseous with the smell of sick in my nose. Then, when the meeting was nearly over, But threw up again. Luckily, this time it was only breast milk. But I couldn't change him into clean clothes (because I had already put him in his spare outfit.) I called the hubby, who was finally able to come and get me. Hallelujah!

I felt horrible. There is nothing worse than sitting in a room full of mothers with young children, with a kid that keeps vomiting. I just hope Bug didn't infect all those babies with whatever he has. (Or had...I can't decide it he is over it yet.)

But, I will tell you what...it is making me sick just thinking about it. Ugh...I can't wait until I get to the second trimester and this all goes away! And I am SOOOOO SORRY to all those women who deal with pregnancy nausea through the whole 9 months!

Hope during Infertility

2009-12-24T11:29:00.000-08:00

What better time during the year to be filled with hope and gratitude than Christmas!? (Perhaps, Easter?) However, I have been filled with hope, indeed!

I know a post about infertility right after a pregnancy announcement may seem a little insensitive, but I've done a lot of thinking about my experience with infertility. It is my sincere hope that other women find strength in their trials.

For months and months, I wanted to get pregnant. But, because I was breastfeeding Bug, my cycles hadn't returned yet. And consequently, my fertility hadn't returned yet. Then, my body started showing signs of returning fertility. Signs...but not reality. Every time my body began another cycle, I was filled with painful emotion. The flowing blood of menstruation is a physical cleanse. The body dumps the old to make room to try again. A clean slate. Another month to temp and chart and record and plan. Another month for hopes to rise. Yet, every time my body would cleanse itself, my spirit was sullied with grief, anger, jealousy and fear.

I always trusted my body, until it didn't do what I wanted it to do. Or what I though it should do. My body had always done what I wanted it to do, before! Finally, I realized that I had a defect. For all I knew, my body could have been aborting a possible baby every cycle. But that was just it, my body didn't understand to keep it, and it would begin the cleansing process before it even knew whether or not it was necessary.

Day and night, I would suckle my needy toddler, with tears in my eyes. Weaning him could be the answer. But I couldn't do it. I knew he needed to nurse. Would it be right to take something away from the child I have to -maybe- get a child I want? *Note: I still have not weaned Bug. In several months, I will probably do a post on nursing during pregnancy.

That child I already have been blessed with brought other questions forward as well. If I already have a young child, did I have a right to mourn my infertility? Did I have a right to claim infertility? I had been wanting to get pregnant for a whole year! By medical standards, I was infertile. Did breastfeeding change that? Maybe. But it didn't change my desires.

I know that there are probably women that are jealous of me and my one child. And I was jealous of women who are expecting or already have two. Did my one child make my sadness any easier? To a woman who strongly desires a(nother) child, but cannot get pregnant, I think there is little solace.

Many women experiencing "true" infertility may not appreciate the difficulty of the situation I was in, just as I could not fully appreciate their difficulties. But, if I am able to get one point across, I wish it to be known that infertility of ANY kind or duration, is difficult if a woman truly desires to get pregnant.

So, every time I began another cycle, I would swallow my pride. Through my grief, anger, jealousy and fear, I would pray for strength, faith, patience, health and hope.

And sometimes, even if it doesn't seem like it, we have a loving Heavenly Father who is watching over us. He knows our desires. He knows our struggles. And He knows the best way to bless us, and the right time to bless us. In hindsight, our struggles always look easier than what they really were. Heavenly Father knows how difficult things are for us. But if we remember Him always, He will bless us in the most unexpected and marvelous ways!

Top Ten Reasons Why....

2009-12-21T08:28:00.000-08:00

So, I wrote the best post over a MONTH ago. I had this post all planned out prematurely, because I thought it would be really cute. But what I conceived would be the situation, didn't really fit the situation. I have re-written the post completely on the sperm of the moment. And I have impregnated it with a lot more hilarity than I had originally planned. In fact, I may be pushing it a little bit!

May I present to you the Top Ten Reasons Why You Should Not Write A Blog Post About Something That Hasn't Happened Yet. (I know, it's a mouthful of a Top Ten list!)

10. You are likely to get the date wrong.

9. It hasn't happened...yet.

8. All the funny things you wrote in the post actually had nothing (kind of) to do with the topic of the post.

7. It hasn't happened...yet.

6. No matter how great the post is, it doesn't matter unless you can see the future.

5. It hasn't happened...yet.

4. It might make you cry when you realize it hasn't happened yet.

3. It hasn't happened...yet.

2. You would feel like an idiot if you went ahead and posted it, even though it hadn't happened yet.

And the Number 1 Reason Why.....(I'm not going to type the whole thing out. Honestly, it's just ridiculous!) ....is: It is always better to write a post about something AFTER it has happened!

But wait, you weren't expecting that to be the end of this post, were you?? You all want to know what I had developed in that other post, don't you??

Well, my old post was the Top Ten Reasons Why I Might Be Pregnant. But all those reasons (as I was getting really excited) ended up being just plain, old PMS. This month, however, there were no signs. (Ok, there were signs, but I would have to do a whole post about FAM before I could share them!) The whole post I had formulated, the one that I thought would be so adorable to make a big announcement, didn't fit when it actually came time for that big announcement!

So, without further ado, I am pleased to announce that I am gestating a speck! Soon it will be more than a speck. Soon, as in around September, I will have baby number two! I couldn't be more pleased!

Here is my (prematurely written/consequently edited) post on hope during infertility.

Oh, Christmas Tree...and other wintry stuff

2009-12-10T12:19:00.000-08:00

Christmastime with a toddler in the house is interesting, to say the least. Last year, Bug was just crawling. We put our little 4' tree on a table and he couldn't reach it. No problem-o. THIS year, however, Bug is a running, jumping, climbing, maniac of a daredevil. The tree is still on that table, but raising it a couple feet really hasn't done much. Our poor tree is feeling quite naked from the waist down! (And all the ornaments are hidden throughout the house in Bug's multiple secret hidey holes!) Thankfully, I remembered to put all the delicate ornaments on top of the tree. That should keep them safe...at least until Bug pulls the whole tree over. He hasn't done that yet, but I wouldn't put it past him.

Speaking of pulling things over, our stockings hanging from our mantle are apparently a hazard to curious toddlers. But, it only takes pulling a heavy stocking hook down on you one time before you learn that it hurts and you don't want to do that anymore.

Under the mantle, is a fireplace (what else would there be?). Oh, the fireplace. Practically since we've moved into this place, we have had the fireplace tied shut. Naturally, I didn't think to do that until after I had to pull a sooty toddler out of it before church one Sunday morning...and try to clean off his white shirt and black pants and pale skin...while we were already running late. You know, that's a funny thing about soot. It looks black on white, and grey on black. You just can't win when you crawl into a fireplace!

But that isn't the only bad thing about the fireplace. Now that it is getting cold, we have been ~~building~~ attempting to build fires at night. Bug always wants to help. He gets into the wood. He gets into the tinder. He gets into the kindling. He gets into the lint (which, by the way, hasn't really been helping to get a fire going...thanks a lot Girls Camp!). He plays with the fireplace tool set. Luckily, I haven't caught him running around the house with the stoker yet!

Oh, that fireplace. My husband is an Eagle Scout. And I have had my fair share of scouting education. But still! We can't get a fire going in that stinkin' fireplace. We usually get a good 5 minutes of teasing before the whole thing fizzles out on us.
[Update: Yes, the flue was open when we were building the fire. We just didn't have good, seasoned wood. Once we got better wood, we were able to create a lovely fire!]

No matter how much I love having a blanket of snow (we haven't had one yet), singing Christmas music (I have a sore throat), a cup of warm hot cocoa (are we out of milk?), and a crackling fire (or smoldering pile of ash)...can't it just be Spring again?

Crock Pot Lament

2009-12-08T08:41:00.000-08:00

I really think it is still way too early in my marriage for me to be replacing all of my kitchen appliances. But for some reason, they seem to all be breaking. One thing I know, it sure as heck isn't MY fault they are all breaking!

Our hand mixer wobbles, screetches and screams when we turn it on. Of course, that doesn't keep me from using it when I need it, but I prefer to turn it off as soon as possible. The reason: "I was creaming butter and sugar to make cookies." -the Husband

I suspect that the butter was frozen. Really, really frozen.

Ok, so I haven't had to replace the mixer (yet) and there is only one other thing: the Crock Pot. But it still feels like all of my kitchen appliances!!!

But let us get to the reason for this post. The Crock Pot. Mom's best friend and tool in the kitchen. All you have to do is dump your whole freezer into the pot and you will have a delicious meal in 6-8 hours. It never burns. The meat is always tender. The veggies are always perfect. You don't have to stir. It never dries out. Seriously, I'm conviced I could put something in the Crock Pot and come back to it a month later and it would still be delectable. THAT is how much I love my Crock Pot.

But beware of toddlers in the kitchen and cords that are hanging within reach. (I bet I don't even have to finish this story!) Oh yes, Bug pulled the cord of my Crock Pot. He used his amazing strenth and brought down the whole thing. LUCKILY, it was empty. And the lid wasn't on it. And the ceramic pot didn't break. And it didn't crush my kid. Apparently, the actual pot was cushioned in the landing by putting all the weight into the electronic doodad that makes the whole thing work. The doodad doesn't make the thing work anymore. Even my electronically savvy husband was unconvinced that he would be able to fix it, even with his soldering gun and...goggles.

So, I said a sad farewell to my old Crock Pot. I went a couple of weeks without one before I died. Er...well...not really. But it didn't take long before I convinced the hubby that we HAD to buy another one. And another one we did buy! It's pretty cool (literally, it has cool touch sides)!

I couldn't be happier! And we're having a Crock Pot dinner tonight!

Blame the Baby

2009-12-01T12:34:00.000-08:00

Ahhh....has it seriously been a whole week since I last posted? I keep thinking that I will get back into the blogging groove, but it just isn't happening. Apparently, I have too much stuff going on during the holidays. You should expect the blogging to continue to go slowly...probably until January. Uhm, or March. Who knows!

Anyway, I thought I would share at least a little story that is marginally funny (if you are in the 7th grade). This is one of those stories that happened months and months ago (when Bug was only crawling) and it has been written down in "Mallory's short hand"on a yellow sticky note next to the computer (with all the other yellow sticky notes), waiting for the right time to actually get posted (I guess that is today). And, now that I have started typing this all out, I think this introduction to the story is actually longer than the story.

So, we love going to book stores. We have a Borders book store that is the closest, so we usually go there. As soon as we walk in the door, I head for the pregnancy/childbirth/breastfeeding/parenting/whatelsecanIputafterthisslash section. I also had Bug with me, so I plop him down to crawl around and chew on books. And I squatted down on my haunches to get to the bottom row. And as I squatted down, I definitely passed some gas. Audibly. It was small and kinda cute in that totally gross way, but definitely audible. I quickly looked around to see if I could just get away with it. But there was a lady standing within earshot. I KNOW she heard. So, naturally, I blamed the kid.

"Oh, Bug! I heard that! You are the root'n'est, toot'n'est cowboy in the wild, wild west! Aren't you!?" (We always tell Bug he is the rootnest, tootnest cowboy when he farts.)

And then, I found my book, grabbed Bug and got the heck out of there.

Thanksgiving Dinner

2009-11-23T07:20:00.000-08:00

This year, I had some friends over for a Thanksgiving dinner yesterday (we did it before Turkey Day so we could get together and eat good food without interfering with family gatherings). I cooked all the food. And I will tell you what...it was all delicious! So good that I am sharing the recipes that I used, so everyone else can enjoy great food, too! I used recipes from the Internet, so to save from having to type them all out, I will be putting in links with my side notes.

The Turkey. This site may seem a little hokey, but I will tell you what...my turkey was GOOD! I had a ten pound turkey. I let it thaw out really well (but when I was cleaning all the giblets out of it, there were still pieces of ice in the cavity.) I cut half a stick of butter up into slices and just put them between the meat and the skin. I also added some dried oregano. On top, I put pepper and coarse salt. I didn't have a lid for my roasting pan, so I made a makeshift one using the rack and foil. I may not use even that next time, though, because I prefer really crispy skin, and this was just somewhat crispy skin. When this turkey came out, it was just falling apart! Did I mention it was really good??

The Cranberry Sauce. This is actually made with pears and honey, too. It was very yummy! I didn't care for the shell of the cranberry, I didn't like the texture of it so much. But I did like the pear chunks. If I make it again, I will probably up the white sugar, do a little less honey, and try to strain the cranberry. (I don't know HOW I will do that....but I will try!) Also, you have to cook the cranberries a little bit longer to get them all to pop. Fifteen minutes works.

The Broccoli Casserole. Yummy stuff! I used whole wheat Ritz crackers. I also made it in a crock pot, which would have been fine if I had drained the broccoli a whole heckuvalot more before adding the cheese. (I didn't add the cheese until about half and hour before I was going to serve it.) This is a recipe that I should have doubled, because it is so good!

The Carrots. I wanted to find an awesome honey-glazed carrots recipe. And I did. The only thing that I would do with this recipe is either double the amount of carrots, or half the amount of everything else! So good!

The Potatoes. I didn't get this recipe from the Internet. I just learned it growing up in a home cookin' family! Peel and dice about a dozen potatoes (for 8-10 servings). Boil until tender. Drain. Add a whole stick of butter and about half a cup of milk. Mash (with either a hand masher or a hand mixer). Add more milk until it is the desired consistency. Add salt and pepper. Voila!

The Stuffing. Don't put it in the bird. Just follow the directions on the box. Can't go wrong!

The Gravy. This is another one of those learned-it-from-my-family recipes. Pour all the turkey drippings into a frying pan, turn the heat to medium-high/high. In a small cup, add about two heaping spoonfuls of corn starch and enough water to make it easily stir-able. When the drippings start boiling, slowly pour the corn starch mix in while whisking. Whisk and add corn starch mix until the gravy is as thick as you like it! You can add salt and pepper...but I always forget to, and it still turns out great!

So, there is your Thanksgiving dinner!

I didn't make dessert this time, but if you want some good recipes, try this recipe for a super yummy pumpkin pie....don't forget to use real pumpkin! And if you want to make your own crust, here is a simple but wonderfully delicious recipe. This site also has lots of tips for pie making!

Happy Thanksgiving!

A Toddler's House

2009-11-18T11:35:00.000-08:00

It seems that nearly everything in my apartment reminds me that this is probably more Bug's home than my own. Let me take you through a tour to show you why:

Welcome to my Bug's house! This is the hallway. As you can see, nearly all of the shoes are out of the closet. I know this doesn't say "toddler" in and of itself (unless you count the toddler sized shoes among the mommy and daddy sized shoes). But, Bug likes to pull shoes out and wear them around the house, whether they are his or not.

This is what I normally would call the "guest bathroom". Right now, it has all of my makeup and hair supplies on the counter. That's so I can get ready on Sunday mornings without waking Bug up until I have to...or I can get ready while the Husband has Bug with him in the shower in the other bathroom (and I don't have to worry about the mirror being all fogged up). Also, note that the tub is full of toys.

Here we have the second bedroom. We have rearranged a lot since moving here. This room has been known as Bug's room (he never slept in it once), the TV room (we moved that to our room), the exercise room (HA! like that ever happens), and just "the other room". It is basically our storage room right now. It has a dresser in it, which may or may not full of Bug's clothes...depending on whether I have folded the laundry or not. It also has a toy bin and daddy's tools. Naturally, Bug likes to go in there to mess things up, so we usually keep the door closed so I don't have to clean that part of the house. Of course, that explains why my plant is turning yellow...I always forget to water it.

Now on to the living room. There are toys all over the floor. Bug thinks the living room belongs that way, because whenever I put his toys away, he promptly replaces them to the middle of the room. ("Excuse me while I put some of these toys back....HEY! I found Bug's other sippy cup that has been missing for a couple weeks! Oh, it's ok...it only had water in it...I think.") On our back door we have some of those gooey window decals that look like snowflakes. I thought Bug might think they were fun. And what do you know, he does think they are fun...to rip into a million pieces. So, that is why they are crowded at the top in the middle. Bug can't reach them that way. Nearly every paper on the computer desk has scribbles on it. Pen scribbles. Pencil scribbles. Marker scribbles. Highlighter scribbles. There are some Cheerios in the couch and on the floor. I could have sworn that I just vacuumed this place. I think Bug got that box out of "the other room". He was having fun pulling pieces of the cardboard off of it. I have had to tie the fireplace shut. If I don't, Bug will crawl in there and get all covered in soot! I also just keep the diapers and changing mat on the floor right here in the living room. It makes it easier to change Bug's butt, and then let him hop up and get back to playing.

Now we are into the dining room. Shoved in the back corner (because I don't know where else to put it) is my yarn bag. As you can see, the yarn is all so tangled that I might as well just throw it away. The table is full of junk. Mostly our mail and my latest sewing project...even though I should just put it away, because it actually IS finished! There is Bug's high chair. It's at the head of the table. He's practically the patriarch of our family, didn't you know? Please don't look too closely at the carpet around his chair. It is full of crumbs and crusty, dried pieces of cheddar cheese (extra sharp). Oh yes, I still have bone to pick with you, mister "I-think-it's-a-good-idea-to-have-carpet-in-the-dining-room", whoever you are! The half wall by the sink hold nearly everything I own that I don't want Bug to touch. Ok...that may be a little exaggerated. But, it does have Bug's wipes on it. I don't want him to get those, because he pulls them all out of the box and tears them into tiny pieces or lets them dry out and wastes them all. Our sink is full of dirty dishes. Most of the dishes still have half nibbled food on them. (Those are the big pieces of food that I actually pick up off the floor when Bug announces he is done eating by tossing his plate off the tray.) Our fridge is covered in magnets...all the ones that Bug can reach, however, are lost forever under one kitchen appliance or another.

Through that door is the laundry room...and the trash can. I don't think I will show you in there.

Here is the hubby's and my bedroom. Shhhhh...Bug is actually taking a nap! Luckily, I folded the laundry today. If I hadn't, there would be a very large pile on our bed. (By the way, do you like our TV? It's huge, I know! I still can't believe that I let the hubs buy that thing.) There is a crib in that back corner. Don't know why. As you can see, Bug is fast asleep in the middle of our bed. (Poor husband nearly gets kicked off the bed every night these days...er, I mean, nights.) You can also see that there are far too many books that are OFF the shelves. Oh, there's another toy bin. A baby towel on the floor. Toys in the bottom drawer of the dresser.

And, here is our bathroom. I can't believe I'm actually showing this to you! There are two baby toothbrushes on the counter. One is to use, the other apparently, is to lose. (Inevitably, when we lose the one to use, we find the one to lose. Did I make that clear?) That step stool is Bug's potty. He has found that he can slide it up to the sink to reach everything up there. He has also used it in other parts of the house. That kid is smart! (And strong. It is hilarious watching him tote that thing out to the bedroom so he can reach the top of our short bookshelves.) That roll of toilet paper actually came out of the package looking very neatly rolled. Even when I put it on backwards, Bug figures out how to unroll it. And apparently, he thinks he needs 50 squares. I keep telling his that is way too many. And then I try to roll it back up nicely, but it never works!

So, that is our place! I'm sure it would look a lot different if I didn't have any kids yet. And I'm sure it won't be clean until at least a week after the day the last one moves out. But, in a way, that's alright...because it gives me an excuse...

"Sorry my place is a mess. You know how it is with kids!"