Bug Update

Next in line on the update list is Bug.

Bug is going to be 5 in just a few months. FIVE!!! That's supposed to be one of our big, birthday party years (since we don't do parties every year). But I am going to be -hugely- pregnant on his birthday. Like, ready to  pop any day pregnant. I'm really thinking that I will do all the planning, but the hubs is going to have to actually execute the party.

We'll probably have to do a super hero theme for Bug's party. Avengers would be ideal. Bug is absolutely obsessed with Iron Man. He has assigned the whole family their very own heroes from the Avengers. The Hubby is Captain America. I am Black Widow. Bug is Iron Man. Gizmo is the Hulk. Occasionally, he assigned other family members to fill the remaining slots. But really, as long as we have Iron Man, nothing else matters!

Bug is also quite skilled at working the Xbox. He and Gizmo play games together (which always leads to arguments). And most of the time, they are better than I am! And Bug also loves watching movies on Netflix. (The kids are getting way more screen time than they should, because this pregnancy is kicking my butt, and it's cold outside!) I take a secret pleasure in the fact that Bug not only enjoys Power Rangers and super heroes, but he also loves watching Strawberry Shortcake and all the Tinker Bell movies. I am so proud that his wide interest has broken past the typical gender norms! I hope it lasts.

Bug took so long before he actually started talking, that even though he has been talking for quite a while now, I still am amazed at the things he says. He is hilarious! Most of the time it is completely unintentional. He often reminds me that he is a "growing man". And I always crack up when he uses the word "fragile". Also when he says "girl", because he has a hard time pronouncing the word. It usually ends up sounding like "gorl".

Because Bug is a couple of years older than he was during my last pregnancy, he is showing a definite increase in understanding about pregnancy. I have pulled out a few of my pregnancy books to show him pictures that will help him understand what is going on inside me. He likes to try to feel the baby kick (but he usually gets bored before he actually gets to feel anything....which is actually much the same for the Hubs!) He -really- wants a little sister. He always tells me that he hopes the baby will be a "gorl baby". And he doesn't hesitate to tell others that I am having a girl. But we really have no idea what we are having yet, so I always have to make sure that people know that we really don't know! There have been a couple of times where I have watched a birth video online, and Bug comes up to see what I'm watching. He usually asks questions about the noises being made. I explain the birth process as best as I can, and make sure to point out how happy the mommy is after the baby is born, and that she isn't hurt. He's going to be a great big brother...not that he isn't already, I just think he will be a bigger help and much more interested and loving toward the new baby than with Gizmo!

I keep reminding myself that Bug is going to be eligible for Kindergarten this fall. I have been really waffling back and forth between home school and public school. I love the idea of home schooling, but I worry that Bug won't pay as much attention to his learning at home. Or maybe that -I- won't pay as much attention to his learning! We sometimes like to practice his alphabet and numbers, but he doesn't have much interest in them. And when he is interested in learning about them, his attention span is not nearly long enough! He has enjoyed learning how to write things, though. I will write out letters or words, and he will copy them. Or he will write out a bunch of letters that he remembers, and tell me what he thinks it says. I'm guessing that the interest will develop just as it should for him.

I have started to implement some different discipline techniques with Bug. I admit to being way less gentle as a parent than I wish. But I have found that I am able to use motivations other than spanking and yelling with Bug. He responds incredibly well to being grounded from things that he enjoys. I am so glad to be able to move away from the more violent forms of punishment. They have always made me feel so guilty afterwards, but I always struggled with eliminating them from my parenting. So I am beyond glad that Bug is starting to respond to more mild forms of punishment. (Although, I still end up yelling a lot. I'll just keep trying to cut out that bad habit!)

I love my boys! I have admitted to -not- enjoying the toddler stage. at. all. Give me a newborn any day! Now that Bug is preschool aged and moving into just plain old "young child" age, I am finding that this stage is pretty fun! (Now, I just have to survive the toddler stage for the rest of my kids....and hope that the teenage years aren't really all the comparable!)

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!

Making it through the first half of pregnancy 3.0

My sister is going to be living Gangnam Style in just a couple weeks. Apparently, her moving to South Korea means that I have to start updating my blog more often than every four months. And here I was thinking I didn't have to look up all those resolution articles on exactly how many days it takes to build a habit, because I wasn't planning on any official resolutions this year. But, dangit, I love my family....and if they beg me to write more gripes about my life because they are going to be living on the other side of the planet....I guess I'll put in a little more effort.

First off, an update on my pregnancy is in order. I basically have been feeling like a glorified slug with bad hips. About a month before I got pregnant, I started treating myself for depression with naturopathic suppliments. It was going great! Really great! The two weeks post conception, pre positive pregnancy test, I exercised every. Single. Day. And I had been carefully weighing and measuring my food intake. I was determined to get healthy. But I wasn't losing weight and I was constantly dead tired! Then I found out I was pregnant and it made a bit of sense. And I went off my supplements (just one, actually, that is counter-indicated during pregnancy, but I guess that one was the only one doing jack squat.)

Then my body decided to really welcome me into the first trimester, with 24/7 nausea and a complete inability to ever feel really awake. And the depression was back. The horrible pregnancy nightmares were back. And my hair started falling out. (Which, the hubs tells me that I was just noticing it more because it was getting longer....but I'm not so sure that's 100% true.)

I never threw up during the first trimester, which I am sure plenty of women would envy. But morning sickness sucks no matter what. And I felt like it was worse and longer lasting than I had experienced with my previous two pregnancies. Which is discouraging.

Then the nausea started disappating, and I thought that the second trimester would bring with it rainbows and butterflies, like pretty much every pregnancy book suggests. Not so. My fatigue hasn't lessened at all. My appetite is wishy washy at best. And my Symphysis Pubis Dysfunction (SPD) is near unbearable. And, of course, the heartburn. Plus, it took a lot longer than I thought it should to feel the baby move.

I didn't feel sure and consistant movement until 19 weeks, which is nearly a month later than I felt movement with my first pregnancy! That was so discouraging! Add that together with my depression/anxiety and the lack of formal maternity care, and at 18 weeks I was a complete and total basketcase. I was totally convinced that I had experienced a silent miscarriage and was carrying around a dead fetus. (I want to briefly apologize if this seems insensitive, and extend my love to any women who have actually experienced a late silent miscarriage. Even though it wasn't my reality, my brain was making it seem so, and it was terrifyingly horrible.) A couple days after my biggest breakdown, I started feeling movement. And it was a sweet relief, even through all the other complaints of pregnancy.

So, in other pregnancy related news, I am doing my own prenatal care in preparation for an unassisted home birth. Midwife attended home births are, unfortunately, not legal in North Carolina at this time. I know the thought of an unattended birth is alarming to many, but I am comfortable with the decision. We have a sympathetic family doctor who I can go to, if I decide I want any formal medical advice or attention. But for now I feel like the pregnancy is progressing without the need of any special attention.

Hopefully, in the days and weeks to come, I will be able to continue updating on life and family and motherhood....for Korea.

Simple (and exciting) updates...and a rant about announcing pregnancy

The entertainment factor in my family has been at a peak during the past few days. Bug's developing speech (which, for a while there, I thought he would never be able to speak in complete sentences) has been creating moments of laughter for months now. I wish there was some way to capture and share every little thing that he says (and also the manner in which he says them). But, I'm afraid there really is no way to really share my own personal show of "Bug says the darnedest things!"

Gizmo has also started testing out his vocal abilities. Mostly to yell "no" at everybody, and to say "Meeeeee!" when he wants something. (He also says crazy stuff like, "vitamin" and...uhm...ok, maybe that is the biggest, most crazy word in his vocabulary right now.) Gizmo also likes to wander around the house singing his own little made up song, "Hap-py. Hap-py. Hap-py. Happy! Happy!! Happy!!!" It's very adorable. (Until he escalates into a demonic, screeching form of the same song. Then it sounds like something from a horror movie.)

This week, we have been able to have the Hubby home from work (until Friday), thanks to Labor Day on Monday, and then DNC is in Charlotte this year for the rest of the week. (For security reasons, especially since the Hubs works so close to the convention center, a lot of people have been asked to work from home.) I have a suspicion, though, that the Hubby isn't really cut out for working from home. You know, with all the noise and chaos going on with two young hooligans. I finally asked if he would mind shutting himself up in our room to get his work done, so he didn't ruin our fun down in the living room. Maybe he'll gain a bit more appreciation to the crazy that I am, now that he knows the conditions I find myself in every day!! (Or maybe not, it's just as likely that he'll be more solidly convinced that we have awful, rotten children...but it's nice to think about!)

 In other news, I am pleased to announce that I am expecting our third child this coming May! It's been a long time coming, as we have been trying to have another baby for over six months! Perhaps I need to readjust my expectations about -when- my body is ready and able to have another baby. You may recall (depending on how long you have been reading my blog) a post I wrote and posted around the time I found out I was pregnant with Gizmo: Hope during Infertility. I'm not really sure if I have ever really and truly qualified as being "infertile", but having a strong desire to have another baby, and not being able to actually achieve that, can be very disheartening. It is especially discouraging when you are charting your cycles, and you can clearly see that you are ovulating, but things just aren't working.

I am obviously very early in my pregnancy still. And I have not hesitated to share my news with anyone. Because of that, I have received some questioning comments (that bordered on ridicule) about why I have shared the news already. My younger sister asked me, "Don't most women wait until about 12 weeks to tell people that they are pregnant?" Yes, that is true. Most women wait, because miscarriage is most likely in the first trimester. And I guess they don't want to share news of a pregnancy and then also a miscarriage.

However, I find that reasoning interesting and sad. Most women have a network, however small or large, of friends and family (other women) that are willing to offer love and support during both emotional highs and lows. That is the nature of humans...we have other humans to offer social support. Discovering a pregnancy is (usually) an emotional high. It brings excitement, and a desire to share the news! A miscarriage is an emotional low. It often brings a desire to retreat and mourn. But if we have a friend in mourning, don't we want to offer help, love, support, a listening ear, a shoulder to cry on, a loaf of bread? How can we receive social support in our trials (such as miscarriage), if we don't let our friends know. And in the case of miscarriage, it makes sense to let our friends know that we were first pregnant! (Unless, of course, you would prefer to have privacy to grieve during the event of a miscarriage. In which case, it makes sense to wait the socially acceptable 12 or so weeks.)

Another sentiment I have perceived is that there is a time that is "too early" to tell people about a pregnancy. Which I don't understand at all. Is there ever a time (past a known conception) when you are not pregnant enough? Of course not! And women find out about their pregnancies at all different times. Most over the counter pregnancies tests can detect a pregnancy around 14 days past ovulation, which is usually the earliest a pregnancy can be detected (by urine pregnancy tests). According to a 40 week pregnancy, a woman 14 days past ovulation is 4 weeks pregnant. But she is only two weeks conceived. If a woman is charting her cycles, and knows her usually luteal phase, she could detect a pregnancy by that alone. And depending on how long her cycles normally are, and according to her last menstrual cycle, a doctor may estimate her pregnancy to be farther (or not as far) along than she really is. For myself, announcing a baby due in May, could indicate I am anywhere from not even pregnant yet (which would mean I would have no pregnancy to announce), to nearly 7 weeks (according to the standard 40 week pregnancy) depending on when exactly my due date is in the month of May, as well as the other factors that I have mentioned.

A woman should be able to announce a pregnancy whenever it makes her feel comfortable, without any social stigma attached to the announcement. She should be able to announce a miscarriage without feeling ashamed, and she should have the support she needs to recover from her grief. And she shouldn't feel the need to justify her due date, or share intimate details about her pregnancy (including how far along in her pregnancy she is), unless she wants to share those things. Pregnancy is exciting, and if you have a hard time feeling excited for the pregnant woman....then ignore the announcement! (/rant)

No Promises

It seems that I have fallen...hard...off the blogging bandwagon! I have no promises that I will be jumping back on with this post. But today I feel at least a little bit motivated to share bits and pieces from my life over the past 5 months. (I have still been reading the blogs that I love, via Google Reader on my tablet. That means that I haven't been able to comment, but I have been there!)

About two weeks after we moved to Charlotte, my genetic predisposition to depression kicked in and started making my life pretty miserable. I was so excited to live in a new place. To be able to establish my identity with my new family (far enough from parents and people who have known me since I was "yea high"). The weather was warm and beautiful. There was (still is) green everywhere...even more than I was used to back in Ohio.

But, I felt like I was having trouble making friends. I missed my family. I missed my grocery stores. I didn't know the roads. I got frustrated with the kids (who weren't handling the move very well). I got frustrated with my husband (who wasn't handling the move very well). And I realized maybe I wasn't handling the move very well.

I am too stubborn though, and I tried to just push through. I gained at least 10 pounds. I wore my throat out almost daily, yelling at the kids. I cried....a lot. I argued with my husband. My depression manifested as anger and irritability. (You know, in addition to poor eating habits, poor sleeping habits, unexplained crying, lack of motivation to do things like exercise/shower/brush teeth). I was in a bad place.

Finally, last month, I put down my foot and let the Hubby know that something needed to be done....before I did serious damage to myself or my family. (Of course, I just wanted the quickest med to fix my problem.) My wonderful husband, however, knew that his hippie of a wife would not want to be on medication, and started looking for an alternative. He quickly found a homeopathic doctor, scheduled an appointment for me, and took the day off work to accompany me to the appointment.

The doctor was great. She was cheerful and asked very thorough questions to be able to understand my depression. She gave me a homeopathic remedy and gave me some supplements to take, in addition to the vitamins I was already taking. Every morning, I take my remedy (lycopodium). With breakfast, I take a women's multi vitamin, EFA oil, Emergen-C, and 100mg of 5-htp. I take more 5-htp with lunch. And with dinner I take a B-complex and another 5-htp. If I am feeling pretty good, I skip my lunch dose.

Surprisingly, I noticed within a week that things were improving. I felt like myself again. I had more patience with my kids. More love for my husband. And a more positive outlook on all of my previous problems! I did notice though, that my routine only turns me into a normal person. It isn't a miracle "happy all the time" thing. And I am still subject to normal emotions (including mood swings, although much less frequently), especially during my normal PMS week. But being a normal person is a significant improvement on being a mopey, miserable, depressed person! I have started watching my calorie intake and exercising frequently (although the scale hasn't given me any encouragement). And I have even pulled out some of my crafts that I used to love working on.

Over the past 5 months (since I last wrote on this blog), I have attended the wedding of one of my younger sisters. Celebrated Bug's 4th birthday. Celebrated Hubby's 27th birthday. Caught a lizard on my porch, and used it to teach Bug and Gizmo about reptiles. Cleaned up about a million messes (mostly courtesy of Gizmo...our resident Lord of Chaos). Gently encouraged Bug that he should let his "ahhhh...soooo cuuuute" spider live outside. Cleaned and bleached after our downstairs toilet flooded the bathroom, laundry room, pantry and half the kitchen. Received a nasty note from an anonymous neighbor about how our property is an "eyesore". Revamped the outside of our house (that we are only renting, by the way). Took Bug and Gizmo to visit family in Ohio for a week, all by myself (worst vacation ever). Talked to Bug about why he cannot put Gizmo in the garbage, just because Gizmo can be mean. Listened to a million hilariously mispronounced words (courtesy of Bug). Gained a nephew (the first on my side of the family....I seriously cannot wait to meet him in a few weeks). Listened to Bug sing a goodnight some to Gizmo: "I love you, Gizmo. I don't want to put you in the garbage. Sorry for saying that last night. I love you, Gizmo. Goodnight." Avoided cleaning our mess of a house a million times...and then actually cleaned it about half a million times. Had a million sleepless nights (courtesy of Gizmo, our resident Lord of Poor Sleeping Habits). Weaned Gizmo from nursing. Got on a supplement routine to treat my depression. Went to the beach for a single day (and got gloriously sunburned). Discovered Adele. Celebrated my 5th wedding anniversary with my wonderful husband. Celebrated Gizmo's 2nd birthday. Dealt with jealous envy of every pregnant woman in the world. Found a lost snuggle bear, which was received with a very heartwarming "thank you, mommy. I love you!" And cleaned a million more messes. 

(Thank you, FB timeline, for helping me remember all the stuff I've been doing lately!)

I know this post is a bit long and....erm....depressing-ish. And lacking the normal humor of my regular posts. But, maybe.....juuuuust maybe....I will start sharing stories again. Maybe. No promises!

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!

Accident

Bug has been potty trained for nearly a year now. It has been a wonderful, marvelous year that could probably make me sing. It definitely took time, but once he was ready, he transitioned from diapers to underwear very quickly and very well. Ok, he actually went from being "naked-butt" all day to underwear, but I was totally fine with that!

But, last week, he had an accident.

I'm pretty sure that our move has broken something in these little kids of mine. They don't seem to be happy very often anymore. And I mostly feel a desperate need to be able to keep them from crying for at least 3 hours, with low success. It's very discouraging at the best of times, and downright unbearable at the worst. (Like this morning, when I crawled out of bed at 4am for a shower, just to get away from an inconsolable Gizmo for 10 minutes.)

Anyway, Bug had been being goofy and defiant, as he so often is, playing around in the living room. I reminded him several times that he should probably go use the potty. He didn't listen to me.

Eventually, he ran past me in the kitchen, into the little half bathroom. Then I heard liquid hitting the floor, and an exclamation from Bug, "Uh-oh! Oh, no!"

I ran into the bathroom, to see Bug standing there, shorts still all the way up, right in front of the toilet. Peeing. And peeing. And peeing. And still, he just stood there, like there was nothing he could do. I told him to pull his pants down and pee in the toilet. (Probably not in the nicest way, considering most of my patience wore out last week, probably a day or two before the accident, and hasn't been replenished yet.)

He did pull down his shorts and peed a microscopic amount of urine into the toilet bowl. Of course, it's amazing that there was anything left. I'm pretty sure the kid had to have been full of pee up to his eyeballs. I can't imagine how such a large amount of pee fit inside such a little guy!

I helped him strip off his soiled clothes, and I gave him a wad of paper towels to help clean up the mess. Then I realized that there was way more mess than a wad of paper towels could handle, so I sent him away for a bath, and I tackled the ocean on the bathroom floor. After mopping and wiping and soaking and spraying, our little bathroom was (mostly) clean again.

Most people say that you should wait to potty train until you have time to do it without any interference from major life changes, so you don't have to worry about the trainee regressing. I'm beginning to think that it really doesn't matter. Because apparently, even supposedly well potty trained little boys will have accidents after a major life change.