Like everyone else, I have an internal voice, that is different from my spoken voice. It sounds normal and articulate like a narrator in a movie. And then when I open my mouth, I sound like a mallrat.
My name is Charlie and I have a qualifier problem.
It's nearly impossible to have an exchange with someone without over-using "like." I can trace this habit back to Katie Buckland in the 2nd grade. I'm sorry Katie, but you started me on it and 19 years later I still can't quit it. This is the least of my problems.
The worst is qualifying almost every sentence by interjecting "actually" or "technically."
I call it the Ty Pennington disorder. If any reader has seen Extreme Makeover Home Edition, you will know that Ty uses too many adverbs in his sentences. Like, "really kinda" or "like kinda really great" or "actually really bad." These sort of sentences would be marked up and down by any junior high grammar teacher. It makes my eyes roll when I hear him say things like that, but then here I am doing the same thing!
I can't stop myself from doing it unless I speak overly carefully and sound like I have a speech problem.
So everyone, I'm sorry I talk like a big dummy. I swear I've been to college!
This is my current baby dilemma: Baby R sleeps really well from 5pm to 3am. But I don't want to go to bed at 5pm. And then of course Im miserably tired at 3am when he says "Good Morning! Time to start the day!" by way of crying and wanting to be held. Yep, right now he's fast asleep and I'm up, just asking for punishment in about 6 hours.
UPDATE (@4:52AM) He woke up and I fed him at 9pm, then I went to bed at 10pm. He woke at 12am, I fed him and he stayed up for 3 hours until I fed him again at 3am. Then at 4:30am, he awoke screaming with gas pain, and he's still up. Grand total of sleep for me: 3hrs. (And Kevin wonders why I'm in a bad mood in the morning!)
Sam called me out and said that last week's 3 photos was not enough. So I'm making up fo it this week with [too] many photos.
General wakefulness. One of 3 moods he has.
Although he is prone to crying, this is in fact, a yawn.
Here's that crazy eye again! I wish he wouldn't do that, it creeps me out!
I don't know why I like this pic, but I do.
"you put what in my cup?"
"well that does it!"
Sleepiness. My favorite mood of all.
He only smiles in his sleep. They get bigger and cuter than this, but my clicker finger wasn't fast enough.
She loves him. He's not so sure about her, but she loves him.
Please, anything but a nap.
Look at this piece of artwork! I scored it from one of the pastors at church. He was just gonna rip out the painting and repaint the frame but I went on and on about how fantastic it was, so he let me have it, begrudgingly. It now hangs in Baby C's room. She loves it too. She constantly points to it and says "Dog! Dog!" She, like me, can appreciate the finer things like black velvet and gold trimmed chihuahua paintings from 1972.
I check my inbox this afternoon and see that I have two new anonymous comments on my blog, both for pretty old posts. They are so c-c-c-crazy that I had to share them. Besides, I have to be last one to make fun of somebody. Last time I got a comment like these, it ended up being written by my own mother, so Mom if you're the cuckoo, fess up.
Yeah first of all you do have to wash them. How gross are you that you want hair thats never been washed. If you spent any time in a good wig shop you'd know they sell special shampoo just for wigs although Suave works fine. Also why exactly isn't it socially acceptable to wear a wig unless you've had Cancer. To me that statement is socially unacceptable. I have 10 wigs which are nothing like my real hair and I haven't had Cancer so does that make me immoral in some way to want nice hair I have no trouble brushing? I see nothing abnormal about wearing a good wig since no one should be able to tell anyway. Are you really that insecure of what people will think of you?
To answer your first question, yes I'm pretty gross. I try not to spend time in wig shops, because even I know they're for drag queens and women who take too many pills with their gin. Hmm, insecure? I think that would be you, hater-lady.
What kind of moron leaves their kid's stroller outside? Then complains when animals get on it duh. You had to know that would happen especially if you live in an area overrun with Spiders. Perhaps the next time you move you should do some research beforehand. You're like those dimwits who move to Arizona and then complain about having Scorpions in the house.
Moron? Dimwit? Ouch, that's harsh from a stranger. Geez, the Jehovah's Witness guy was more civil than you. And does this surprise anyone that she's an Arizonan? Who wouldn't complain about scorpions in the house?!
Do I remind you of someone that has wronged you?
Are you possessed by a demon?
If this insanity happens again, I will be convinced I have a stalker. (Easily recognized by the freshly washed wig and the dream-catcher sweatshirt)
A friend of mine graciously gave me a Hooter Hider and I am in turn advertising for her company here on the blog. She didn't ask me to, I just want to.
If you are a mommy who doesn't like to show her goods to all the people on the playground everytime the little nipper needs a snack, Hooter Hiders are for you! Public decency, here I come.
bad news- Baby C hasn't taken a nap for the last two days. I hope it isn't a pattern. I think I need a toddler treadmill for her. She's been steadily protesting the idea from her crib for the last hour.
good news- we don't have to replace the floor in the bathroom. After more hard labor from Kevin, we were able to air out the wet subfloor. All we have to do is put back what we tore up.
bad news- None of my clothes fit right anymore and I've already spent April's allowance. Dammit.
good news- It's "Pile Week" in Santa Clara and we're throwing a ton of trash out.
and more good news- I mailed off a packet today that is a big step toward my secret project. Some of you may know about the project, in which case it isn't a secret to you. But since I'm not supposed to discuss the [best] project [ever] until my cohort has given his blessing, it shall remain a secret until then. Cone of silence to those of you who know!
It's begun-- the mind-losing. If you could see me, you'd know something is wrong. My hair is terrible, I'm wearing ugly house-clothes, two sizes two big-- I'm not myself. I can't remember the last time I have been so tired. In college I was this tired the night before a speech or a research paper was due, but then I eventually was able to sleep. Now there is no sleep ('til Brooklyn). Yesterday we realized our toilet had been slowly leaking into the floor of our bathroom and then into the floor of our closet, also into the drywall and definitely the carpet. So while Baby R slept all afternoon, because he's noctural like a possum, Kevin had to rip up the carpet, pull out baseboards and drywall. Needless to say, everything that was on our closet floor had to go. Go where? All over the house, especially the laundry--which has never been so out of control in my life. It's literally in every room in piles of either clean or dirty. I can't really do anything with the clean clothes because the closet is a war zone, and why clean the dirty clothes when I can't even make sense of the clean ones I have? Right now, the baby is crying next to me on the couch, he's been angry all day. His nose is snotty and he has gas. After Mylicon and walking around with him has brought no relief, what else can I do? I think he may be turning to the dark side, Baby C must have coerced him. I was so hungry at lunch time I wolfed down mac n' cheese and a ham sandwich in about 30 seconds. I was in crazy starvation mode, I wanted to eat everything in sight. I think this is how house-mommies get great-big-fat. Babies make ya' binge. So back to the toilet leak problemo: Kevin has had the fans blowing on the exposed floor for about 24 hours now and a giant section of wet carpet is airing-out in our driveway. He slept on a mattress in Baby R's room. I, like most nights, slept on our couch. And by "slept" I mean about 4 hours total. I don't know what we're gonna do about the floor. We all packed into the car last night to price replacing the padding and laminate, but it's a can of worms I can't fully take in right now. I'm so tired I don't even want to get up off the couch.
This is what I want- to sleep in my own bed, for about 30 hours straight (without waking up in a puddle of milk).
...he's still crying, and Baby C just woke up and is now crying...
People say that when you have kids, your pets get the shaft. With just one baby, that wasn't really true for us. They got more walks and more food scraps fell on the floor. But now that we have two babies, my patience is stretched to a new limit and anything the dogs and [especially] the cat do that is remotely annoying, I want to kill them.
For instance, just this morning:
Baby R had only slept about 45min-1hr at a time last night (because I ate garlic and gave him gas, my bad). So I crawl into bed with him, despite his fussiness and attempt to get him to fall asleep so I could go to sleep. The cat made it her priority to meow like she was in heat until I finally got up to throw her out. She tries to make me hate her.
AND THEN, we finally got Baby C to fall asleep for her nap around 1pm. At 2pm, the dogs , in the bathroom next to her room decided to wrestle and growl and flop around so loudly that it woke her up.
She is currently meddling next to me as I type this-- instead of sleeping, thanks to our pets.
I love the dogs, but right now I want to make coats out of them.
Clearly this B.T. shows a bias towards the new baby, seeing that there is only one of her and the rest are of him. But how cute is the one of her?! She was still kinda sick, that's why she's not a blur of motion like she usually is.
There are tons of photos of him in his swing, because that's where he sleeps, for now at least. And this isn't the swing cover I made, this is the car seat cover I made, but since his diaper leaked onto the swing cover, the car seat cover, spangled with 1970's American muscle cars, took it's place for a while. In that last one he's giving me the crazy eye!
He hiccups alot- too much for my liking. They keep him awake in the wee hours!
The birth went perfectly.. Well, there was the wrong-number-guy who kept ringing my delivery room as the anesthesioligst was inserting needles into my spine(!). Can anyone think of a worse time to have the phone keep ringing than when you're being told "hold completely still and relax, I'm inserting a catheter io your spinal cord." ?! And then when it came time to push, the midwife was with another patient and the nurse tells me "Can you wait 5 minutes?" Yeah, I barely made it. I was mentally preparing myself to have Kevin catch the baby.
Otherwise everything went really really good. I won't go into the gory details of what normally happens for those of you who don't know but let's just say I can sit just fine. It only took 3 pushes, just like last time.
I got alot of comments from the staff like "hey you're good at this," or "see you next time" etc. And I started to get brainwashed while at the hospital, thinking "hmm, maybe I shouldn't stop at 2, maybe I should have more babies." I mean, Baby R was sleeping most of the time (unlike his sister) and all I had to do was lie in bed and feed him when they brought him in. But then when we got home, I snapped out of it real quick. Baby R was no longer so quiet and need-less which was compounded with Baby C's general neediness and the wheels fell off. "No, no more babies, 2 is it! That's enough! 3?! What was I thinking?!"
Like I said, Baby R is gassy. And usually not the kind that produces a burp. He's got a little bit of the baby IBS like Baby C did. He's still doesn't hold a candle to her in the fussy department, but he's not exactly the marshmallow lump that the stork brings to other lucky mothers. It's pretty much impossible to make him sleep horizontally. He prefers to sleep upright against a parent. I'm mostly using the cues from the Dunstan Baby Language theory, which I totally believe in. The problem is, when the cry means feed me, burp me, I'm sleepy or I'm scared, those are easy things to aleviate. But "lower gas" there's not much to help that. Two nights ago, I tried Mylicol gas drops again and again, but they didn't make a difference.
I'm really hoping it will work itself out and I can put him in his own bed. He's yet to sleep in there. Since we've been home, I've slept on the couch and he's slept on my chest, no more than 2.5 hours total a night. I've learned by giving up the idea of ever going to bed myself, it's less maddening when I don't sleep. I just say "self, you are not going to bed tonight at all."
The nights have gone something like this: 9pm-2am, watch alot of TV while walking around with him, feeding him, etc. 2am-5am, sleep on couch with baby 5am-8am, watch the same 5 news stories over and over again until Kevin gets up with Baby C and then Baby R and I can get in bed. 8am-noon, sleep in my bed with baby (which makes me nervous, but it's the only way I can sleep at all)
We all went on a walk today because Baby R has a slight case of Jaundice. I know the peditrician said little bit of yellowing is normal and not to worry about it. But then I also know there is a point at which it's too yellow. How to know where to draw the line? I called the nurse and she just beat around the bush for like 15 minutes while every baby in the house was screaming and the cordless phone was beeping because it was losing it's charge. What I could make of her "advice" was to put him in the sunlight or bring him in if I think it's getting worse. Oye.
Here's his going-home outfit. I'm a sucker for anything with ears. He was still fooling us into thinking he would sleep (flat in his bed!) for the next 3 months.
This video is pretty pitiful (I think Sam was trying to take a still shot), but it is moving footage of the night he was born, so I included it. Turn your head 90 degrees before clicking the play button.
Baby C is taking to Baby R very well. She likes to bring me the boppy and his pacifier and try to "help" as much as possible. Kevin is assigned to Baby C care during the day since he gets a full night's rest (since he's the parent that doesn't produce milk).
Baby C stayed with Grandma T and Granpa T (and partly with Great Auntie Sandi as well) while we were at the hospital. She saved her puking sessions for us though. Yesterday there was much barfing. We are praying that none of the rest of us et sick, especially her brother. Y'all can pray too. That might push me over the edge.
*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.
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.)
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.
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.
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.
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?
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.
