Bittersweet

This is it, the final night of my pregnancy. It seems like it took FOREVER to get here. But now that the time is upon us, I’m feeling, well, a little wishy-washy.

Don’t get me wrong, I am SO READY to not be pregnant. I am not one of those ladies that pregnancy agrees with. In fact, I can’t fathom any reason why (other than procreation) anyone would want to be pregnant. Surrogate mothers? Holy crap, that would be my own personal hell. So let me see here – you want to implant your alien into my gut, let me flounder around with it for 9 months, and then you get to keep it? Ummmm….no. There isn’t enough money in the world.

Maybe it’s because I am completely ADD and can’t take my meds while there is a baby growing inside of me. Can you believe it? Certain members of the medical community frown upon taking amphetamines during pregnancy! Really? So I’m about 500 times more spaz than normal. Or maybe it’s because I’m 5’2” and try to keep my weight in the 120’s – but my husband is 6’2” and about 200 lbs. – and he’s now 5-0 with creating babies weighing in over eight and a half pounds. Or maybe it’s because I have NO TORSO WHATSOEVER. Seriously. There is like 2 inches between the top of my hip bone and the bottom of my rib cage. Where else is the baby supposed to go besides straight out front?

Whatever the reason – I am not one of those lovely, glowing ladies that look so happy and radiant and marvelous with the new life growing inside of them. I’m crabby, spastic, restless and slightly more neurotic than usual. I’m larger at 36 weeks than most women would be a 42 weeks, and haven’t slept more than 3 hours straight since August. I have consumed 3 large bottles of TUMS (the SAM’s Club size) and my poor husband (whom usually sleeps in shorts and a t-shirt) has been forced to sleep in a sweatshirt since I closed off the heat vent to our room and insist on sleeping with the ceiling fan on.

That being said, I’m also a little sad that this is the last night I will lay in bed and feel a new life rolling around inside my tummy. He likes to tickle the right side of my belly with his feet. He also gets the hiccups several times a day, and then gets mad at the hiccups and starts kicking and rolling around, almost as if trying to get rid of them. He likes to poke his elbows out at me, and when I poke him back, he pokes me more, and traces my hand with his elbow. I’m almost certain he recognizes Gavin’s voice. He talks to him daily, he’s the perfect height for the baby to hear, and he sometimes gets quiet when Gavin starts rambling on (this may come in handy later). I’m gonna miss Gavin hugging and talking to my belly, and the way his eyes light up when he talks about being a big brother.

I will miss the knowing glances and the excitement of ultrasounds and new baby clothes. Maybe I am romanticizing slightly, but since this is our last child, I am a little sad that I won’t ever have this feeling again.

Snap back to reality. I have to pee again. There is a humongous head squashing my bladder and colon, making every sneeze or cough VERY dangerous, and I am slightly regretting tonight’s gorge-fest at Olive Garden. Sigh, I guess I will go find my trusty bottle of TUMS and try to get a few hours of sleep tonight.

This time tomorrow, I should be the proud mommy of a new baby boy.

23 Weeks - and a future Soccer Player

This week Baby Bean reaches the 1 pound mark! He’s over 11 inches long now, and I can feel him dancing all the time. His favorite ‘dance floors’ are my bladder, and the nice fleshy parts just in front of my left hip. Brady & Gavin have also been able to feel him dancing, which has been pretty fun for me to share in the experience. Gavin also like to ‘hug’ the baby by wrapping his arms around my belly. It’s too cute and I know he is going to be a big helper!

In other baby news, we have finally started prepping for the baby’s arrival. I figure we have about 3 months left to go, and in that time frame, we have: a trip to Chicago, trip to Wisconsin, Halloween, Vegas, Thanksgiving, Alyssa & Evan’s birthdays, oh, and of course CHRISTMAS. Whew – I’m tired just thinking about it.

So Gavin and I went shopping on Tuesday and picked up some cute bedding, some accessories and paint. The colors are sage green, baby blue & chocolate brown, and of course I will post pictures when we are finished!

I also hauled out 4 years of baby stuff and washed it all. Wow, I didn’t realize how much stuff we had accumulated over the years! (as if the tower of boxes wasn’t my first clue) I emptied them into a pile on the basement floor, and we stared at “Mt. Baby”. 20+ loads of laundry later, it is all sorted by size, and will be placed into space bags today – and back into the closet – but at least I won’t have to sort or launder it when I need it!

I’m chomping at the bit to get back upstairs and paint…..but Gavin has taken a rare morning to sleep it, and I am weighing the pros and cons of an early start vs. as much quiet time as I can get this morning. I think I will let him sleep a little longer :)

21 Weeks already!

I'm feeling not-particularly inspired right now, so I thought I would steal a friend's idea about posting the weekly happenings inside my belly - from another site.

Ok, people - here's what Baby Bean is up to this week:

He now weighs about three-quarters of a pound and is approximately 10 1/2 inches long — the length of a carrot. He is definitely practicing martial arts as his initial fluttering movements have turned into full-fledged kicks and nudges. In other developments, his eyebrows and lids are present now - yippee!!!

So far so good, I am feeling great. My belly isn't so big that it gets in the way of everything, but it's big enough now that I really do look preggers and not like I have the beer-gut from hell. Other than the occasional sleepless night (and the gross sweating thing), I have been blessed with a relatively easy second trimester so far!

So all we need now is a name, since that's the one thing we can't seem to agree on this time!

Love of my Life

6 years ago today I married my best friend. There may not be such a thing as a ‘perfect marriage’ but I do believe that what we have is ‘perfect’ for us. I was browsing through Hallmark the other day, and found a card that sums up my thoughts on exactly how we have remained ‘perfect’ for each other for so long:

“Having a happy marriage doesn’t mean that life is perfect – at least not all of the time. To me it means we’ve laughed more than we’ve cried, celebrated more than we’ve worried, and loved each other through everything. Having a happy marriage means there’s a trust that’s been built with time and commitment and more than a little sacrifice. Most of all, it means we have a lot of things to be proud of….and still more to look forward to. So on our anniversary, I want you to know how much your love means to me…because giving you my heart was one of the best things I ever did.”

So true. Life isn’t perfect, people aren’t perfect. We disagree. You can’t have two (and now three) type-A strong-willed people in one house and expect to agree on everything! However, we have learned how to disagree gracefully, and to pick our battles. And yes, sometimes he gets on my nerves. Like when he grinds his teeth at night, or when he gets irritated that I won’t ask for his help even though it looks like I need it though I really don’t want it, but sometimes I really do need it.

Yeah, and I know I get on his nerves too. I’m well aware of my neurotic tendencies…but he is starting to understand my ‘everything in it’s place’ philosophy, bless his heart…

He knows when to leave me alone (when I am feverishly cleaning and/or organizing a closet and company is NOT arriving within 24 hours) and when I just need a hug and a snuggle (after a long day of “MOM!!”). I am comfortable in knowing that even though we may be on opposite ends of an issue, I am always right in the middle of his heart.

But most of all, he knows ME. All of me. Not just the pretty parts or the sunshine-y parts that we allow the rest of the world to see, but the dark shadowy parts that everyone has but rarely finds someone they can trust enough to reveal. He has been there through my highest highs, and my lowest lows, and his love and support has never wavered.

I can’t imagine my life with anyone else but him, and on this day I’d like to celebrate what an amazing husband, partner and father he is. He is my best friend, the yin to my yang, the PB to my J, and the one person that keeps me truly grounded. Happy Anniversary Loverbean – I LOVE YOU!!!

Some privacy, please?

Yesterday was a lazy day. We didn’t get dressed, we didn’t do much of anything. Such days are few and far between in our house. So we enjoy them when we can.

I apologize if this may be TMI, but this blog is about the odd happenings in my family, so deal with it.

After a huge omelet for ‘brunch’ my belly was feeling a little off. Taking the advice I always give Gavin when he complains of such (and because you all know what can happen during pregnancy) I headed upstairs to the private seclusion that is supposed to be my bathroom.

Less than 2 minutes later I hear footsteps up the stairs, followed by “Mom?”

Me: (sighing) “yes?”

Gavin: “What are you doing?”

Thump…..a little body landing in a seated position right beside the door….

Me: “Going to the bathroom”

Gavin: “No you’re not, you’re reading a magazine” …followed by… “Are you reading a magazine because its taking too long?”

Me: “something like that”

Gavin: “I hear you texting”

Me, in a text to Brady: your son will not let me potty in peace.

Brady: Is he upstairs?

Me: He is camped right outside the bathroom door. Listening to every move.

Brady: Wow. He needs a new hobby.

Me: He has a hobby…following me.

Brady: He needs a NEW hobby.

(several minutes pass)

Me: “Gavin? Are you still there?”

Gavin: “yes”

Me: “what are you doing?”

Gavin: “Waiting for you”

Sigh. One of these days I will miss him following me. Right now I would just like some privacy.

Poop, science, and naming body parts

Everybody poops. Taboo of a subject as it is, the rules change when you have children. As infants you worry if they are pooping too much or not enough. As Toddlers you just WISH THEY WOULD POOP IN THE POTTY and not elsewhere. As Preschoolers, they simply like to talk about it themselves, as if it were a hobby or some other interesting aspect of the day.

I normally discourage this type of dinner conversation, but since we were sitting out on the deck watching a spider ‘poop’ out his (or her) web, it somehow seemed fitting for Gavin, Brady & I to begin naming other species that ‘poop’ odd things. Like spiderwebs. Or earthworms pooping dirt. And yes, even chickens pooping eggs.

Which, naturally, leads me to my next topic: ‘pooping’ babies.

My son is pretty smart. He’s seen enough of my undie-pant and swimsuit-clad body to know that there just isn’t some trap door they pop out of. And of course the belly-button is way too small. Besides, he’s watched plenty of circle-of-life documentaries on the Discovery Channel to witness countless mommy animals ‘pooping’ out their babies. So I suppose I shouldn’t have been surprised the other day when he asked me if it was true if I ‘pooped’ him out when he was born.

After I composed myself from my fit of giggles (and changed the subject VERY quickly), I got to thinking….I always thought I would be one of those matter-of-fact science-y parents who explains everything in proper terms with text book in hand. SURPRISE!!! I’m NOT!!!

Somehow, the thought of a four-year-old having access to that kind of knowledge is very scary to me. And given the obsessive comedy the word ‘wiener’ carries in our household…. right now I am content with the term “pee pee” as an androgynous organ that eliminates urine from both male and female bodies – and does nothing else.

So if you happen to be standing in at the local Wal-Mart, and a little voice rings out loud and clear: “Hey Mom, do all of these ladies have vaginas?” Please note that this is NOT my child.

please remind me why we have children

I love my son. No really, I do. Despite the occasional threat to sell him on the black market, to the gypsies, or even auction him away on Ebay. He really is a good boy - well mannered and fun to be around. Just not yesterday.

The defense presents Exhibit #1: Gavin & I decide it would be fun (and give mommy some much-needed exercise) if we were to ride my bike to the PO box, instead of driving. This would normally not be a huge production, except it was the first ride of the year, so we had to clean out and assemble Gavin’s snazzy little bike trailer. Helpy Helperkins that he is, (and slightly obsessive about the water hose) Gavin announces that HE is going to do the spraying. So I think - knock yourself out kiddo, I’ve got to figure out where I “stored” the canvas top last fall anyway…

After 15 minutes or so, I finally locate the missing pieces - and deliver them to the front yard, where he is happily blasting the carrier from all angles. Typical summery Norman Rockwell you’re thinking, right? This is where it gets ugly. It had started to sprinkle, and in the interest of completing the task and getting in the house to let the rain pass, I **GASP** grab the hose and start filling the soap bucket with water!!! You would have thought I had ripped his arm off, or at the very least shoved his beloved Mama Elephant in the toilet. Oh….my….Lord… He SHREIKED that I was not supposed to TOUCH the hose, threw his washcloth down on the ground and said that he was done helping.

Probably not the smartest thing to say to your stubborn, ornery mother whom is going through all of this extra work to take YOU for a freakin’ bike ride instead of just driving there like we do every day, right? I promptly sent mister stink-pants into the house amid a chorus of more screeching, and I finished the cleaning by myself. We did, however, drive to the freakin’ PO box.

Exhibit #356: We get home from the pool and guess what the mailman delivered? One of those fake little car dealership keys that they sometimes send you, supposedly so you think you already have the keys to your new car, you just have to stop in and pick it out (oh, and pay for it). Gavin LOVES these things - he has several of them on a key ring, and pretends they are for his trucks, tractors and other little boy toys. Only yesterday, he was convinced that THIS particular key actually unlocks our house. After a 5 minute dissertation on WHY nobody would simply MAIL us a key that fits our house locks, curiosity got the best of him, and he started jamming the fake key into our front door. I envisioned having to re-key all the locks, and this pretty much sent me over the edge. I snapped. I may or may not have threatened to sell him to the gypsies if he didn’t get that (insert bad word here) into my (different bad word) locks!!

That’s when the waterworks began again, for the 502,036th time that day. He started wailing that he wanted a key for our doors, at louder and louder volumes and higher and higher pitches. Among the chaos of the day, I had forgotten to unload the other half (non-cold foods) from my truck, and figured this would be a GREAT time to do so. Yep, cranky-pants follows me out of the house screaming “I WANNA DOOR KEY”. Only in hysteric-ese, it sounded more like “I’m a DORKY!!!!!”

I admit, my son blasting the neighborhood that he is a ‘dorky’ did somewhat soften the Steel Curtain of Mommy. But it was also a good thing that Daddy came home 20 minutes later. Someone again please remind me why we have children?

A day of firsts

Hello world! I've been toying with the idea of starting a blog for some time now. Admittedly, my family alone provides enough fodder to fill VOLUMES of internet posts (as those who follow my facebook page already know). But somehow committing to an actual blog seemed far beyond the comprehension of my ADD brain...and somewhat scary!

Soooooooo....here goes nothing!

Today was a day of firsts. My first blog post, our neighbor's first day with central air (I know this because I am home all day and have become somewhat of a neighborhood snoop), but most importantly, it was Gavin's first day of Preschool!

I don't why I was expecting differently, but he took to preschool just like anything else in life: with complete and total reckless abandon. I don't even think he looked up when he yelled 'bye mom' from the across the room when I left him this morning. He was already completely immersed, and I had yet to leave the room.

I got home and went about my daily activities, waiting for 5:00 to pick him up and hear about his first day. Boy, did I get an earful! He blabbered the whole ride home about whom he played with and what they played, and the names of his teachers and how he is in the 'Caterpillar' group, even though he wishes he was in the 'Butterfly' group because they are 5 years old and his buddy Easton is in that group....

His verbal skills continue to amaze me, expecially when they can be so randomly accurate. At the dinner table tonight he told us: "I'm glad I go to Preschool now, because daycare is so lame".

Yep, that's my boy!