Baby Tuesday

*small update* It's 11:56 at night and the smoke alarm in Baby C's room keeps chirping! What to do? Wake her up and change the battery? Do nothing and hope that it stops? Ack! Why does it have to be in *her* room?!

This very well might be the last solo Baby C Baby Tuesday. I debated whether
to keep the day of babies on Tue or to change it to-- well Thurs I
guess, but I think I'll keep the Tue. What else are Tuesdays good for?



We do this alot. "Reading" books. It goes something like this: She points at picture and say "deh" and then I say what it is. Then I ask her where a certain thing is on the page and she points to the right thing and says "deh."




Oh my gosh, look she kept the hood on!

It was her lucky morning, we found two other 18ish month old baby girls to play with. I didn't have to sit on the other side of the seesaw for once. Oh and if Carrie Christy is reading this, the little francophone toddler sitting in front of her looks like a misplaced Edstrom baby.



More park fun.


We're making a little progress on words. She can't say please but she can say bees. That's close enough for me, and totally cuter.

guilt!

Today I went in to the Dr to check on things and then they sent me over to the hospital (next door) to do a non stress test.
I'll spare those of you with weak consitutions the specific medical details of what stage I'm at, but let's say I'm physically halfway to ready-to-push, roughly speaking.
All these little factors say that I could pop at anytime, but I don't feel like it at all. I'm not having real contractions, I'm not puffy or dizzy, etc.
Plus, I mean I'm still 9 days away from the actual due date.

So I asked the midwife "gimme the pros and cons of, let's say, inducing tomorrow."

And I pretty much knew the pros, but I was waiting for a con that would convince me not to be so selfish as to up the baby's arrival for no medical reason.
All she said was "he could turn the way he wants to turn...but he's already in a good position."

Hmm. Okay.

So since I'm there alone, I tell her I'll discuss it with the Sir and call her later if we decide to go for it tomorrow.

On the drive home I start thinking about all the things I don't want to happen with the delivery:
I don't want to start labor in the middle of the night: everyone involved will be tired then.
I don't want to have a long [first stage] labor at home during the day (with the toddler around, wanting to be held)
I don't want my water to break inside the house. (I know I'll be the one cleaning that up when I get home from the hospital 3 days later. Not pretty)
If it's a short labor like most believe it will be, I don't want to be stranded somewhere with a toddler and everyone who could help me is at least 30 minutes away at work.

All of those possibilities could be eliminated if I induced.
But all of those possibilities are about me.
Nevermind he wants to stay in there and hang out and get bigger and fatter.
Or that God is control of everything and I shouldn't meddle if there's nothing wrong.

Obviously the reasons to induce outweighed the reasons not to, so I called the midwife tonight and told her "how about Thursday?"
I'm scheduled for 7:30AM Mar. 1st. Officially a week early.

I'm riddled with guilt over it and I feel completely self-serving.
I'm telling myself stress is bad for labor, and stress held up my delivery last time so I should minimize stress whereever possible.
The truth is, I'm really just stressing these two days beforehand instead of on the day when he would naturally come.

I feel alone about it too.
It wouldn't matter if I had twenty friends and family around me right now, I'd still feel the pressure lies soley on me to make the right decision.
I don't think either is right. I can pick bad or bad, one is probably slightly less bad, and we won't ever know which is worse, because you can't do both.

And you know what's not helping right now?
Baby C is "mooing" in her crib down the hall. She's supposed to be sleeping but she woke up and is tired-crying. She's been at it for about 15 min and will probably fall back asleep any minute, but I can feel my shoulders tightening as I type this.
(I blame Franklin and his super sonic snoring in the next room.)

oh, Dinesh

I've been looking on craigslist for a dresser to go in the baby's room for a few months now. I don't know why I bother, when we don't have any way of transporting it. I know we'll end up with something from IKEA in the end. But I look anyway.

This afternoon I came across an ad for furniture that I must share.



This [creepy Chinese herbal medicine clinic waiting room] print is for sale.
And this is how the man describes it:

"- Art Frame (Original Purchase price $470) - $200
Description of the frame:
Western print of a herd of wild horses running in the wind. Enhance your decor with this captivating print that will accent your western home. The print is actually mounted on rippled barn tin. A process that gives it the wavy effect that you see. It is then framed in antique wood, giving it a rustic appearance.
Size is 61"w x 28"h and item is very durable."

Are we looking at the same picture? Apparently so. "Western" and "Rustic" in a Chinese railroad worker kind of way, I guess because it clearly has kanji at the top right hand side.

stay put, baby

Last night I had contractions, more than the usual psych-out contractions that I have usually felt before.
There was't any special order to them. But nonetheless I started getting stressed out- I don't want to deliver yet.
The Baby-C-care bag hasn't been packed, I didn't want to go to the hospital in the middle of the night, I agreed to help at church for 4 hours Saturday evening and have no way of calling anyone to replace me, and the kitchen is a total disaster.
I had Kevin type out the new birth plan during the contractions, because I hadn't even done that yet.

I went to bed early to try and stop thinking about all of that and then I wake up at 3AM with harder conractions in a somewhat regular way. I just kept thinking "no, not now, not now, just wait 30 hours, c'mon don't do this to me now, little baby."
Thankfully they again went away and I went back to sleep around 4AM.

So if I can just make it past tonight, I'll feel alot better about it.
I really want a weekday though, with fresh nurses and doctors. No graveyard shifts please.

only half awake as I type this

Now that I only have two weeks to go until the due date, I am tired all day long.
I feel really guilty about not having the energy to walk the dogs or run around with the baby at the playground.
We still go to the playground, but even the little Chinese grandmas at the park make me look like a sloth.

I don't remember being this tired before at this point, but then I don't remember alot of things.
I do remember sweating more and swelling more, for what that's worth, I'm thankful to be without that and that.

I'm looking forward to these things once the little bun arrives:

1. Laying on my stomach.
2. Hugging Kevin like normal person, not like a teepee.
3. When I get work requests, saying "I can't, I have two babies."
4. The last 3 inches of my belly being covered by my shirts.
5. Not sleeping with 4 extra strategically placed pillows around me at night.
6. Wearing my real wedding ring again.

Which of course outweighs the list of things I'm not happily anticipating:

1. Nursing.
2. Nursing.
3. Worrying about SIDS all over again.
4. Waking up every 2-3 hours.
5. Not having enough help and rest
6. Sharing our room with a baby again.

Tommorrow afternoon we'll know if I've "progressed" any further. I'm pessimistic about the chance of an early delivery. Honestly deep down, I think he'll be late like his sister and by my calculations that means he'll be the size of a Butterball turkey.

Baby [Fat ]Tuesday

For Valentines Day, I set her up on a little baby lunch date with two boy babies. It was grapes that brought Baby C and Baby L together. (I think he was the first baby she ever met, about a year ago.)
He was showing her his grape dismantling skills. It was painfully cute watching him feed them to her.







Baby L, you're a little stud.


Then Monday we drove down to the beach to enjoy the "holiday." I understand that in most parts of the country, the weather is miserable. But here it was clear skies and warm enough that most kids had on their swimsuits at the shore.
As you can see, Baby C was more interested in inspecting every stick, rock, and mass of seaweed that she could find in the sand. And oh man, if she finds trash, that's a big deal. It's imperative that I receive the trash and put it away. She can even say "trash" now. I hear it's a phase.


Here I am trying to coax her towards the water.

If anyone doesn't know, the our fair Pacific is cold. (I think people who swim in it are nutz) So the wetter the sand under her feet became, the more suspicious she was of the ocean.

The memory card ran out, but I'll tell you how it ended-- the second her toes touched the water, she screamed in fear and begged to be picked up and taken away. Anyone surprised?

why do we do this?

Are you like me?
When you wake up in the morning and are so tired that you feel you've been steamrolled to the mattress, do you make promises to yourself?
"I will take a nap as soon as the opportunity arises. And if nothing less, I will go to bed early."

And then later-- no nap, and you stay up past midnight?

Me too!

Why?

I'm so tired right now, but I don't want to lay in bed.
Okay, I know why I don't want to lay down, because I've got a pumpkin stuffed between my liver and small intestines.
But I do need sleep. Rilly-bad.

And what am I gonna do after I publish this post?
Windowshop on eBay.

I'll never learn.

I'm glad this is the worst of my problems

Old Navy is having a mega baby sale and I've already used up my allowance!



Darn those other things that I bought that I actually needed!

Gah!

I don't need no stinking scrapbook

I've wanted to print and bind my blog for some time now. But I didn't think there was any company that made that easy for me.
But a little further research brought me to Lulu.com.

Potentially, I could upload my blog to them, and have it printed in color, with a hardcover and a dust jacket that I designed.

Can you stand it?!

The "calulator" says it would be 100 bucks per unit. I suspect they might have a problem with me just getting one unit, two at most.

We'll see...


Forget reading Poitier's book. He's reading mine!

Baby Tuesday

All this waiting and drama about the camera and I only have one video this week.
Sorry! I really thought there was more on there.
I guess when you pre-pack the labor & delivery bag with the camera in it, it's kinda hard to take photos of the baby you already have.

Anyway, in the spirit of things disdainfully valentiney, here is Baby C with her father's card. This was filmed after she "helped" me wrap his gift by stomping all over the paper, pulling way too much tape off the roll and crying because I wouldn't let her run off with the scissors.





(I'm a tad embarrassed that you can see the pile of blankets and curtains along the wall with the vacuum and the steam-vac.)

a papery sugary mess

First, I must sheepishly tell you that I cannot find the camera (NOT
GOOD) so Baby Tuesday will be postponed until I find it. I'm not
freaking out yet, because the house is a mess and when I clean it, I'm hopeful that I will find it then.

In the meantime, I have a commentary on Valentines Day.

I offer the question, who is Valentines Day for?

Obviously the real rational answer is corporations that sell Valentines crap. But let's discuss beyond that.

People who are single think it's for people who have "companions."

But when you're dating someone, there's this fear of doing anything special for Feb 14th.
Like, you might as well be proposing marriage if you acknowledge the
day to a woman.
I will say if you are dating a man, V day is a test of the man's creative and planning skills.
My husband has struck out as many times as he's hit the ball, and I do remember getting really mad at him on 2/14/04 when he did not propose nor did he plan anything at all. Like he was doing so out of spite!
I remember a telephoned exchange of words like this:
"...Well what do you want?"
"Something big and shiny!!..."

Back to the single people. V Day makes single people really bitter. As if us occupied people spend the day dancing happy jigs and kissing in public.
We don't.
Some bitter women felt so oppressed by Hallmark and Whitman's Chocolates that they wrote the Vagina Monologues and perform it nationwide on Feb 14th. Geesh, who needs that?

Now married couples. I'm sure there are those couples out there that are really cute and fun and plan great exciting events for themselves every year.
But here's the problem, husbands as a whole think Valentines Day sucks. They love their wives, but they hate the obligation.
Women love it. I mean even I love flowers and not cooking, the color red,
hearts, etc. But I know that my husband is dragging his heels at the
whole concept, so what's the point?
It's like when your mom forces you to say sorry and hug your brother.

Now, children and Valentines Day. We all made our shoeboxes in school covered them with foil and pink copy paper hearts and democratically gave a Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle card to everyone one in the class. Even the boy with psoriasis and the boy that never stopped picking his nose.
That's what you had to do. I remember reading the messages on my cards before cramming them in the little Zig-Zag envelopes and thinking "I don't love Michael Fadner. I don't even think Eizabeth Brinkley is sweet. So why do I let the Turtles tell them I do?"
And let's face it, we didn't care who put cards in our shoeboxes unless they were a) sparkley b) had a sticker c) had candy. Candy is the bottom line for kids and V Day. We didn't care about love....Okay, I'll admit it, I was an overly fantastical little girl and I secretly hoped the little boys in my classes were in love with me. But I'm sure I'm the exception. And more important to my point is, no little boys love little girls.
That's a fact, you can look it up.

And can we talk about the stuffed animal thing?
The rest of the year, do grown women want stuffed animals?
No.
So why do they sell them and make men think that we do?
People, unless your "sweetheart" is under the age of 12, no plush bears please.

So again I ask who is Valentines Day for?
By my calculations, it is for the small percentage of dating couples who have been dating a short time but not so short that they haven't said "I love you."
And for secret admirers.
And florists and chocolatiers.


And cats, apparently.


btw, those in the Golden State will be privy to know that Trader Joes has the coolest and cheapest roses right now. If I didn't think I was going to get in trouble for buying them for myself, I would have bought them for myself.

an awful big snip of snail

This is the first time since big-sick-thursday that I've had a chance to post, my apologies.
Here's a nugget of advice to baby parents out there who might be naive like us:
If your baby barfs, even if she doesn't seem sick otherwise, don't share food with her for like, a week.
Because man that bug's bug hit me hard and Mr T even harder. So much so that Grandma Sue had to rescue us and watch the baby for the day.
Then Sandi had to play the role of Kevin at the sonogram appointment.
It was exactly 4 weeks before Baby R is to be born and how- big- is- he-?!
7.5 lbs

Yes, I'm carrying around a baby the size of a full term-er and he's all set n' ready to go. The sono guy said "he has not missed a meal."

Lest you think otherwise, it does feel like he's big. And like it's the end of the road. But his sister fooled me before and the next thing I knew I was way past due and jumping on a mattress to evict her from her little apartment.

The images were very clear, his face, his toes, his hair. I feel proud, like one of those farmers that bring the pumpkins to the fair. Pin a ribbon on this fetus! He's a prize-winner, he is.

Baby Tuesday

We have a stove, people!
We used it for the first time last night.
Okay, Kevin used it. I was very very tired by the time he hooked it up and the baby went to bed.
It's very...flamey.


"Whadya say?" "Don't poke you with the sticks?"


We had to burn a little energy before a meeting at church. A non-kid-friendly meeting in an office with doodads and chachskis everywhere for her to grab and drool on. It's alot to ask from a 16 month old, to be good and quiet and still for an hour and half. She almost made it to the end, thanks to some strategic snackery.
That will probably be the last meeting I can pull off for a long while, seeing that the next one is scheduled after the due date and two babies in a meeting is right out.


Again, with the sticks (plum tree switches).

a model "pull it together" issue

This baby's room is so far from being done, I need to just get that off my chest.

It's not painted.
There is still a pile of drums without a drumshield in the corner.
The curtains aren't sewn yet.
There's a random mattress without a frame on the floor.
My bills are all over the floor.
The baby swing is flipped upside down on the carpet like a fallen cockroach.
And the computer is still in here on top of his tiny tiny dresser.

It looks like FBI agents raided this room looking for evidence.

He has no closet to speak of because it happens to be our server closet. There's a clothes bar and one shelf that he gets.

I feel bad. With Baby C, a month before she was due, the whole room was together.

But I'm tired and big.
And unfortunately, it's all up to me
in the hours when a certain bug isn't awake.

[pout]

never have I been so picky UPDATED

Soon I will be a mother of two, and for the time being, or at least until the stretch marks fade, I've decided I should get a one piece swimsuit.
(yes I know it's February, but I'm already planning summer vacation)

The last time I wore a one-piece was in 8th grade. And even though I was 13, it was still too short for me. 'Like wearing suspenders that are too tight. Not comfy.

When the "tankini" came out, I wanted one. But once I tried them on, I realized it might as well be a bikini because the two pieces were miles away from one another.

So since then, no matter how much I didn't want people to see that much of me, it was either wear my clothes in the pool or wear bikinis.

But like I said, now I gotta figure something out. And I have discovered that swimwear does come in "long torso." Check. (Though that term sounds like a symptom of a genetic defect or something.)

So I searched for long suits, and what do I find?
They come in two styles:


flowery behemoth

or


go Team USA

Or sometimes I'll find one I like and find out that's it only comes in plus size.
Like this one! Why can't I have this one in anything smaller than an 18W?


I pout.
And then I think "maybe I can tailor it" and then see the price is $89.00. I can't think of a time I spent 89 bucks on any piece of clothing. My max is $45.00 people!


So let's review my criteria:

1. Long
2. Not big bad flowery
3. Not sporty spice
4. Less than $50
5. Sized somewhere between 8 and 14


The outlook is bleak. Good thing I have 5 more months.


UPDATE:

Thank you for everyone's help. I did check out LandsEnd but there wasn't one I was so happy with that I'd buy without trying it on. But lo and behold Spiegel still exists! Did you know that? I didn't.
I found one that met all but one requirement for me, and bought it...in February.


There, that doesn't look like a mom-suit does it?
30 bucks.

it really exists

I'm usually careful to say flatly "I like country music" because there is alot of terrible terrible country music out there. And most of it is "popular" so when I say I like country, I only like a certain slice of it. (I have similiar sentiment for dogs and children, actually)

And until I visited Big D last month, I didn't know that others enjoyed this specific category and that there is actually a radio station dedicated to it.

They call it "Hard Country" I'll use that term from now on.

Here's a sample of what they play:
Jeffrey Foucault: Ghost Repeater
Randy Rogers: Kiss Me in The Dark
Johnny Cash: God's Gonna Cut You Down
Radny Foster: Half of My Mistake
The Elms: Black Peach
Solomon Burke: Aint Got You
Pat Green: Way Back Texas
Ray Wylie Hubbard: Rabbit
Todd Snider: Looking for A Job

They throw in a little old school soul, a little underground christian and a dash of Johnny Cash. I'm smitten.