Boy, boy, BOY!

A couple days ago, I called my mom for a "mommy fix". Basically, I was having a really crappy, depressed type of day (not that I haven't had these days for most of my pregnancy) and I needed someone to listen while I complained. She suggested to me that I go in and get an ultrasound to find out the sex of our baby. It would give me a little bit of excitement, and I could start planning names and layette...and all that other baby stuff! I had been very determined to go without an ultrasound this pregnancy. But I really did need something to cheer me up for the next 8-ish weeks. So, I decided I would make arrangements for an appointment.

The next morning, I called our family doctor's office. Now, none of us have actually gone to this family doctor, except the Hubs (for a work physical). But she came recommended as a doctor who is friendly toward natural parenting, and we were told she would be willing to take on our whole family. The receptionist on the line was rude. I asked if the office had ultrasound capabilities. She was skeptical about why I would even need an ultrasound. I briefly explained that my care provider is not licensed in the state, and could not order an ultrasound, but I would like one as proof of pregnancy in order to acquire a birth certificate. She then said they did not have ultrasound, but another office location from the practice did. (So all that asking about why I would even need one was needlessly nosy.) I got the number for the other location.

Then I called the other office. The receptionist on the line was rude. This receptionist had a list of problems with me asking about an ultrasound:

1. I was not yet a patient. (Why ever the heck can I not be!?!? I was told that the doctor at the first location was willing to take me on as a patient!)
2. Even if I -was- a patient, you can't hop around to the different locations (Why ever the heck not!?!? Isn't that part of what you do when you are in a practice!?!?)
3. I would have to have an appointment with the doctor first, and then have another appointment for the ultrasound. (Why ever the heck can I not just have the ultrasound as my first appointment, as long as I fill out all the required paperwork for becoming a patient in the first place!?!?!?!)
4. Rude receptionist doesn't even know if the doctor -would- order an ultrasound. (WHY ever the heck not!?!?! I am the one trying to -hire- the doctor, if I am asking for an ultrasound, there is really no reason for the doc to refuse to give me one!!!!)

I was pretty short right back with this rude receptionist. And I kind of, might have hung up on her after a -very- curt "thank you". And, no, I did not schedule an appointment. I did, however, promptly start crying after the connection was cut. Rude receptionists. (Later, talking to my dad, an RN, he said he was pretty sure "rude" was a work requirement for medical receptionists. I am inclined to believe him.)

So, I called the Hubby, in tears, to complain about having a really crappy, depressed type of day. I told him all about the rude receptionist, and all my worries about going into get a medical ultrasound anyway. (They are going to force me to get prenatal care, they are going to bombard me with fear tactics about home birth, they are going to call CPS on me......yeah...I think I have a problem with doctors!)

And here I was, trying to alleviate my depression by scheduling an ultrasound. And things were only getting worse.

After about half an hour, Hubs called me back and told me that we had an appointment for an ultrasound that night at 9pm, with a private company for an "elective ultrasound". I was hesitant (do I -really- want an ultrasound? what if they find some weird abnormality and I have to seek obstetrical care anyway? why do they make appointments so late at night?) but grateful that I didn't have to worry about it anymore.

So that night, we got the kids dressed in their pj's and drove to the ultrasound office. And drove around. And drove around. It was late, dark, and there were business offices everywhere, but we could not find where we were supposed to be!!! Finally, after carefully scrutinizing the GPS on Hubby's phone, we were able to locate the office. And we were still early!

We finally got into the ultrasound room. Belly exposed. Goo squirted on belly. Ultrasound wand applied and BAM!!!! First image very clearly, very unmistakably, very directly revealed the sex of our baby.

We are having a BOY! A BOY! ANOTHER BOY!

Cue shock, denial, excitement, sadness, joy....

I couldn't stop laughing. And then the ultrasound technician started making fun of baby boy's penis wiggling around (from my laughing). Awkward.

A boy! He has a beautiful heartbeat, big feet, a nice well-placed placenta. (I have a nice, well-placed placenta? We have a nice, well-placed placenta?) And no obvious defects or malformations....but it wasn't a diagnostic test, so, you know, take that with a grain of salt.

A boy! Poor Bug walked right out of the ultrasound room when we told him he was going to have another baby brother. (Drama much, 4 year old??) Gizmo doesn't get it yet. But Bug was setting his highest hopes of having a baby girl. He even picked out his favorite girl name (that we had approved of, prior) and he thinks we still need to name the baby this name. Uhm....no. But, if I can get over the fact that we are having a boy, then he can, too.

Speaking of me getting over it: I admit that I'm a little sad. This is where I start wondering if I'll -ever- have a girl. We want a big family, but what if we have 6 boys...7, 8 boys!? Can I do that?? I just have to remind myself that there is still time. And even if I never get a girl, I will still love all my boys.

I actually had a dream a couple weeks ago that I gave birth to a boy. He was beautiful, and squishy. And I was completely and utterly in love with him! I woke up with a strong realization that even if I had another boy, I would still love him. That dream was a tender mercy, for sure!

So, these last weeks will fly by, and we will welcome into our family ANOTHER little boy!

Gizmo Update

Ok....second post within the week. I'm getting better already!

I felt like I should do a series of updates on each of the boys, since my last post was all about me and my whiny pregnancies. (Seriously, the hubs told me that I focused on everything that has been going wrong. To which I say, "Well, duh! That's what happens when you combine depression with the first half of pregnancy, and put it all on a blog with the word 'lamentations' in the title!" But, I'll try to do a little better now.)

I chose to do Gizmo first, because he's going to be the poor, poor middle child soon.

Gizmo turned 2 back in August. OOOOH.....two! He reminds me a lot of Bug at the same age, mainly because he also likes to run around naked-butt. You'd think potty training would be going better. Oh well. He often strips himself. Then he will actually put his clothes in the hamper...diaper and all, sometimes. Just a couple of weeks ago, I missed a diaper while sorting the clothes for washing, and it ended up in the machine. Of course, I had no idea until I opened the lid and found that all my clothes had magically turned into high-tech water crystals! Luckily, my parents were in town visiting, and my mom was able to help me laugh about the whole thing. I'm sure that if I had found that mess alone, I would have crumpled into a sobbing heap of misery on the floor. We shook out all the clothes, making a huge mess. Put all the clothes in the dryer. Ran an empty wash cycle to clear out the washing machine. Cleaned up the floor (made jokes about diaper filling snowballs). Then I'm pretty sure we had hot chocolate. And I didn't rewash that load....it came out of the dryer looking just fine. I'm a lazy mom.

Gizmo's vocabulary has just exploded in the past few months! He and Bug always have adorable little conversations....you know, before they end up fighting. Gizmo is constantly asking "Why, Mommy?" Which turns into the verbal equivalent of a Matryoshka doll, with me answering each "why" and having him again ask "why".

"Please get off the counter, Gizmo."
"Why, Mommy?"
"Because, you always grab a knife when you're up there, and I don't want you to have a knife!"
"Why, Mommy?"
"Because, knives are sharp. And I don't want you to hurt yourself."
"Why, Mommy?"
"Because, I love you, and it would make me sad to see you get hurt. [Plus, I don't want to have to take care of any ridiculously self-inflicted wounds!]"
"Why, Mommy?"
"Ugh....just....BECAUSE!"
"Why, Mommy?"

Obviously, he is just helping me develop my logic skills.

Blessedly, Gizmo has started sleeping in his own bed throughout the whole night! We had a few setbacks, with the usual winter illnesses running their courses. And he always seems to wake up between 6-7am, which stinks. But at least he isn't digging his feet into my thighs anymore. And I'm getting a nice break before sharing with the new baby in a few months!

Gizmo is pretty physical, stubborn, and has a bit of a violent streak. I don't know whether to blame that on him being a redhead...or him being a toddler. Gizmo hits, pinches, scratches, bites, spits and kicks. Bug wasn't nearly so bad. Of course, Bug didn't have to compete with a brother, so that might have something to do with it. It's distressing, as a parent, though! I hope he doesn't act as poorly during disagreements in the church nursery as he does at home!

Regardless of his bad behavior, Gizmo can be a pretty cool kid! He plays video games better than I do. And he likes to sing and dance. Plus, he is sooo daggone cute. And he definitely uses that to his advantage...the little stinker!

Bunk Buddies

Yesterday, the Hubby, the boys, and I went to our local Ikea in search for a shelf to fit in between our fridge and our wall (a 9" gap), so we could store our canned goods there (since there isn't really space for them anywhere else).

We walked around the whole place and checked the measurements of any self that looked a tiny bit promising. There was a DVD shelf that would fit, but there definitely wasn't enough room for the amount of canned goods we have. Then there was a wall mounted 7-shelf unit that would fit, but we weren't sure how it would handle the weight of so many canned foods. We noted the numbers to pick it up, in case we didn't find anything else, and continued on our way.

Soon, we were in the kids bedroom section. And there stood a sturdy bunk bed, that could either be two separate twin beds or a bunk. It's siren voice called to us. We had talked about getting bunk beds eventually, and we are hoping to get Gizmo into his own bed soon, and we don't really have a lot of room in our house, so a bunk bed is the best option. We looked at the price. We looked at each other. We looked around at the other beds. And then, I took down the numbers, as well as the numbers for another twin sized mattress.

And then we headed down to the warehouse section. For our canned goods, we ended up buying six single shelves (only $4.99 each!) and a dozen brackets (only .50 each!). Then, we headed to aisle 28 to pick up the bunk bed.

A couple dollars later (ok, it was a bit more than just a couple of dollars), we were packing it all into the back of the van and heading home.

And once we were home, and the boys' room was cleaned and prepped, and shelves were mounted in the kitchen, we opened the three boxes of bed and were all of the sudden overwhelmed with the complexity and enormity of the project before us. Scotty hefted two bags full of screws and dowels and brackets out of one box, and wordless instructions out of another. And we got started assembling dozens and dozens of black bed pieces. The tension was high. The kids were constantly in the way. Injuries were acquired. The tension was -really- high. Styrofoam was crumbled...everywhere. Tools and hardware were lost and found and lost and broken and found again. Dinner was late. Wishes of cheaper and easier to build beds were made. Tension was still high. But, after several hours of ridiculous labor,  we had assembled the beds, added the mattresses, sheeted them up, and were ready to put them to use.

Of course, by this point, the boys were both totally exhausted, annoyed at being ignored and snapped at while mommy and daddy worked, and also very excited about the new beds. Bug kept wanting to sleep on the bottom. "I wanta sleep with Gizmo!" And once Gizmo realized it wasn't a game to sleep in the new bed, he wanted nothing to do with it.

We were able to get Bug up on the top bunk, and settled on letting Gizmo sleep with us for at least one other night. We were too tired to fight with him after fighting with the bed all evening. But [hopefully] sooner, rather than later, our boys will be bunk buddies!

Seriously. A tangent post.

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.

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

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!

Oon Arteeest!

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.

Beginning a New Year

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!

Christmas Family Photo? UPDATE

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.

Brothers

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

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!