Mile a Minute

I have been meeting with basically the same group of lovely women and their children for a weekly playgroup for about 4 years. Or longer, I just know my oldest was crawling. Or wasn't crawling yet. Or should have been crawling according to some developmental chart and I probably obsessed over it and talked and talked and talked to them about it.

Today I talked a lot. About happy things, troublesome things, funny things. Things maybe I should not have verbalized because it resulted in a bit of a rambling rant about being teased on the school bus in 1988. Our conversations need no segues; we can be discussing kitchen remodeling ideas and transition seamlessly to what kind of underwear someone likes the best (for children and adults) all the while getting snacks for the kids and mediating any preschool-aged scuffles that may arise.

I need this time. I assume all the other women do too, because they keep coming every week despite what dirty laundry one of us may have aired over Pirate's Booty and coffee the previous week, or how many toys were strewn through their homes. Today I belly laughed twice. I can't recall what was said that made me laugh so hard, but I'm thankful it was said. I kept putting off our departure. At one point the topic of conversation had moved to toilets and toilet seats, and who can just up and leave during that debate?

I do a lot of listening too, but today I was particularly loquacious. But that is okay, next week someone else will talk more than I do about something, and we will laugh, give advice, take advice, probably gossip a little (I lie, that is going to happen for sure) and have more Pirate's Booty.

See you next week ladies!

Worst.Blogger.Ever

Oh my, how long has it been? Quite a long spell, because I have two children and am precariously perched back in the land of the living.

Let's see, I had a fantastic natural childbirth in July 2010 at The Puget Sound Birth Center Yes, I used the words fantastic and natural in the same sentence. I know this will sound like a cliche, but it was a life-changing experience. Even the prenatal care was thorough and empowering. The center itself is warm and inviting, and the staff is beyond supportive. I came away from it knowing I could conquer most anything I set my mind to. Which right now is eating Nutella from the jar with a butter knife because I ran out of crackers.

Anyway, coming away from that experience-with no stitches, no 2-week headache, I remembered most every detail of the entire labor and birth, felt instantly connected to and in love with my new baby boy-made me wonder if nearly an entire generation of women has been robbing themselves of this important biological and emotional experience. What are the ramifications of this? Both for the women personally and for society? Not to mention how much cheaper it was than a hospital birth!

What happened next, um, it's a bit of a blur, but somehow I now have a happy, healthy, spunky 15-month old who thinks his big, 5 year old brother is the cat's meow. There were a few bumps along the way, Griffin had Torticollis and required some physical therapy. Once again I had milk supply issues, despite trying every known method to increase production, short of prescription medication, with no luck. I gave it a good effort for 6 months and then fully surrendered to formula. Everyone was fine.

Oh! I had my gall bladder removed in September, it finally stopped working altogether(Literally. Testing revealed it was functioning at 0%)and was causing me a hell of a lot of pain and discomfort. Remember my earlier post about buying a girdle? Now, I'm not saying that I've got washboard abs here, but that darned malfunctioning gallbladder was the main cause of my midsection woes. Crazy.

Most days I manage to leave the house fully clothed and even groomed. I usually remember to put the kids in the car, too.

Well, that's all for now.l I've got a high chair tray to clean. Again.

Dear Evolutionary Biology

Dear Evolutionary Biology,

It has become apparent that my people must have gone through periods where food was scare at times, thus causing our bodies to pack on the pounds whenever given the chance. However, I had at least 15lbs of "maternal fat stores" all ready to go when I hopped on board the crazy train to babytown, so really, there is no need to keep converting every morsel I consume to fat. Stop it, just stop! There will be plenty of snacks available to me. I do not need 30 extra pounds in fat alone to breastfeed. I live 2 minutes from Safeway. If I get hungry, I'll send out the hunter for take out.

I had to go buy some "full panel" maternity shorts and extra large maternity shirts yesterday. The shorts I wore comfortably over my belly at this exact stage during my pregnancy with Nicholas are now more like a tourniquet than clothing. The belly is pushing down my pants and taking my underwear with them.

9 more weeks (hopefully 6), 9 more weeks (hopefully 6).............. :)

Ramble on

1. Maternity pants ought to come with optional suspenders you can attach and conceal beneath your clothing. Perhaps this would not only keep them from falling down to mid-crotch level while grocery shopping, but prevent the elastic band from pushing my underwear to half-mast. I now understand why pregnant women in the 80's wore those unflattering overalls. They stayed put and didn't bother their undergarments' positioning.

2. Our main living area looks like the house that packrats built. We cleared everything out of the pantry so Scott could paint the interior, install some new storage units, and remove and clean the shelves. Ok, we didn't realize the shelves needed cleaning until they stuck to his hands during removal, lesson learned. Every flat surface in the kitchen is covered in non-perishable food. It is seriously making me tense.

You see, I watch Hoarders. And, every time I watch an episode, it spurs me to get rid of something old or useless, or organize an area of the house. It is a very effective motivator. After viewing a crazy cat couple episode, I learned I am probably in possession of the legal maximum number of household pets. Also, why did I have cake mix that expired in 2008? I don't even use cake mix. Must have been a great deal......

3. Nicholas refused to wear pants yesterday, and spent most of the day with his underwear on backwards (which means he spent most of the day picking his drawers out of his butt crack). Today, he decided there was no need for a shirt. And, after going potty by himself, emerged from the bathroom stark naked, and proceeded to return to playing with this cars. Nothing to see here people, keep moving.

snails and puppy dog tails

Nicholas is going to be a big brother, to a baby brother! We found out a couple weeks ago. For a brief moment, I was sad I would not be putting soft hair in braids, picking out a wedding dress, taking anyone to ballet class, playing tea party, you know the drill.

Now I think of how much fun it will be to watch two boys grow up together. Watching them enjoy trains, cars, trucks, anything with wheels, really. I'll just get my girl time fix with friends and more frequent mani/pedis.

As much of a 'girly girl' as I am, it might be for the best that I will not be molding a girl into a young lady. After all, I still can't help but laugh when Nicholas passes gas. Don't tell my mother about that.

Never wake a sleeping baby

What about a 3 year old at 9:29 am?

Nicholas slept right through the start of his soccer class. It started 30 minutes ago and it's 35 minutes from our house.

My husband and I figure he needs the sleep. Soccer will be there next week. I am so grateful I've never had to dynamite this kid out of bed to schlep him to daycare. SO glad. He is usually up in time to get ready for preschool, which, at the latest, is 8:15 am in order for me to pin him down to strip off his pj's, night time diaper (yuck), and get some breakfast in him and presentable clothes on him. Of course I have to allow extra time for him to 'brush' his teeth after I've done the job. And look out if I don't let him use the cup to rinse, turn off the water himself, put the step stool back in its place on his own, turn off the light on his own.....I know, I should be glad that he is somewhat independent. I really am. I just don't always have time for him to exercise this skill. That is another post. You fellow mommies understand, I'm sure.

I have always been very protective of my son's sleep patterns. For the most part, I've followed his lead and let him set the schedule. I've had trouble sleeping off and on for years, so I know the misery it can bring. I am home in time for naps and bed time. And guess what? He is a great sleeper. Maybe it's nature, maybe it's nurture, maybe a combination of both. I don't care. I just hope it's a hereditary trait and his sibling does the same.

Perhaps he is still making up for only sleeping 1.5 hours at a time from October 2006-December 2006.

OK it's 9:45. I'm going in.

I a big brover

Translation: Nicholas is going to be a big brother.

Sometime in mid-July we'll welcome our second child. I didn't intend for my children to be nearly 4 years apart, but back surgery will cause a person to take a little time off from pregnancy. Parenting a toddler boy will cause this delay as well, I believe. I am quite sure Nicholas doesn't yet understand what it means to be a big brother. I know his world will be turned upside down for a bit, but I know in time they will become pals. I eventually accepted and even enjoyed my younger sister. Sure, I was in my mid-twenties, but I came around.

I've heard many mothers expecting their second children speak of worries about being able to love another baby as much as they love their first. Worrying that the older child will resent the new addition. Concern over dividing their time so that the eldest doesn't feel slighted.

Um, those are not my worries. I know there will be sibling rivalry, and I'm pretty certain my heart has already begun to grow large enough to love another child. Nicholas will adjust, he's one cool kid. Here are my pressing concerns: I wonder how I am going to find time to cover up my adult acne and get my frizz ball hair blown straight while caring for two children in the mornings.

This picture looks just like my mother in her twenties-it's eerie.

Does that sound awful? Seriously, if I have to wear a fluffy ponytail and sport a bedraggled, makeupless face for months one end, I will lose it. Wearing the same two spit up stained sweat suits for months and months last time was bad enough, but since I only had the one child, I at least had time to slap on some mascara and lipstick on a fairly regular basis. It didn't do much to cover up the dark circles under my eyes, but it made me feel better when I looked in the mirror. Do you think I could teach Nicholas to wield a round brush and hair dryer while I nurse the baby?

I have learned so much since I became a mother in 2006. I didn't know what I was in for, and so I really didn't enjoy pregnancy and planning for the baby's arrival all that much. The fact that we were barely holding our heads above water due to the mortgage we took on at that time played a role as well. Argh. Luckily, we aren't destitute this time around, so I'm already squirreling away baby items here and there, and looking forward to finding out the sex of this baby.

I am 90% sure Scott is going to cave in and want to find out this time. I am dying to know. Being surprised on the big day last time was great, but I'm itching to create a more gender specific nursery. The urge to 'nest' is hitting early and hard. I do not want to bring this kiddo home from the hospital in green and yellow.

That is all for now. I'm off to look for matching mommy and baby outfits online. Totally kidding. I think.