1. My child will eat dirt.
2. My child will eat crayons, paper, and play dough.
3. My child will eat dog food. (note to self: make sure we continue to buy the good stuff)
4. My child will play in the dog's water dish and will share food with the dogs.
5. My child will share toys with Penny.
6. Penny will switch her sock stealing fixation to the baby's socks. (note to self: talk to vet about indicators for intestinal obstruction)
7. My child will have consonant confusion resulting in cringe inducing moments involving the word "truck."
8. My child will have a melt down in a highly public location. There will be looks. This will happen more than once.
9. I will have a melt down. Hopefully, not in a highly public location. This will happen more than once.
10. Should I wind up breast feeding, I will flash someone unintentionally.
11. My child will go through a period where the child WILL NOT eat anything other than 2 nutritionally questionable foods. My worries about scurvy will be unfounded.
I'm sure this list will grow...
Monday, May 29, 2006
Saturday, May 27, 2006
Darn Birds and Sunshine
First, it has come to my attention that my completely irrational crush on Prince William is unabated by motherhood. On hearing news that his relationship with the lovely Katherine seems solid, I was momentarily crushed. The fact that I would be deemed unsuitable on oh so many levels doesn't seem to factor into my secret conviction that if I had met William before I met my husband than all would be different.
Second, the progesterone surge (along with the poison ivy) that was making my life miserable is nicely fading. My hips still require a bit of TLC but are not nearly as painful as they were and my morning sickness is back to a manageable level. The sleepy truck has made a re-appearance. My husband has been warned that speaking to me between 2 and 5 pm is risky at best but the baby no longer has a guaranteed middle name of "never again."
Third, I have several bird feeders in the yard and we live in a semi-rural area where we have a fairly nice bird and critter habitat. I would putter in the kitchen and they would come to the bird feeder and entertain me. However, every year, at about this time, you can hear me muttering about the damn birds and sunshine. We live high enough into the mountains that the evenings tend to be cool and the humidity is quite low for southern Virginia so, we can keep the bedroom windows open at night. The birds begin a deafening round of assorted song at about 5:15- about the time the sun begins to stream into the bedroom. We, of course, keep the blinds up so that we can have the lovely breeze. The only thing missing from our little idylic interlude (prior to the birds and sunshine) is the soft scent of magnolia blossom since our magnolia inexplicably never actually blooms. The birds begin to go on their birdy way and relative peace decends at about 6:15. Unfortunately, our neighbors let their dogs out at about 6:20. They aren't the quietest dogs but are generally not a problem except for the fact that our dogs find the whole matter of open upstairs windows highly confusing. They can hear the dogs but the barking is coming from a Brand New Location. These are obviously Brand New Invaders and should be warned away. However, the dogs can't figure out where to go to scare them away since the windows are above doggy eye level and doggie ear level. This results in much confused circling of the bedroom and barking. This, as opposed to the progesterone surge, may explain the resurgence of the sleepy truck actually...
Second, the progesterone surge (along with the poison ivy) that was making my life miserable is nicely fading. My hips still require a bit of TLC but are not nearly as painful as they were and my morning sickness is back to a manageable level. The sleepy truck has made a re-appearance. My husband has been warned that speaking to me between 2 and 5 pm is risky at best but the baby no longer has a guaranteed middle name of "never again."
Third, I have several bird feeders in the yard and we live in a semi-rural area where we have a fairly nice bird and critter habitat. I would putter in the kitchen and they would come to the bird feeder and entertain me. However, every year, at about this time, you can hear me muttering about the damn birds and sunshine. We live high enough into the mountains that the evenings tend to be cool and the humidity is quite low for southern Virginia so, we can keep the bedroom windows open at night. The birds begin a deafening round of assorted song at about 5:15- about the time the sun begins to stream into the bedroom. We, of course, keep the blinds up so that we can have the lovely breeze. The only thing missing from our little idylic interlude (prior to the birds and sunshine) is the soft scent of magnolia blossom since our magnolia inexplicably never actually blooms. The birds begin to go on their birdy way and relative peace decends at about 6:15. Unfortunately, our neighbors let their dogs out at about 6:20. They aren't the quietest dogs but are generally not a problem except for the fact that our dogs find the whole matter of open upstairs windows highly confusing. They can hear the dogs but the barking is coming from a Brand New Location. These are obviously Brand New Invaders and should be warned away. However, the dogs can't figure out where to go to scare them away since the windows are above doggy eye level and doggie ear level. This results in much confused circling of the bedroom and barking. This, as opposed to the progesterone surge, may explain the resurgence of the sleepy truck actually...
Friday, May 19, 2006
You take the good, you take the bad...
This was quite the week in pregnancy.
I got an email informing that this was generally considered to be the most pleasant part of pregnancy. I sobbed. If this was "the best" I thought that it might be advisable to see if the ob could just knock me out for the next 4 months or so. While it looks like I will be having a c-section, my hips, at least, are totally into preparing for vaginal delivery. I am quite the loosey-goosey and I apparently had a "hormone surge" in the last week or so which resulted in my hips throwing themselves completely out of alignment which results in excruciating pain if you want to do anything wild such as roll over in bed or walk. The surge also led to a super fun resurgence of morning sickness which left me puking in not one, but 2 doctor's offices. Whoo! I keep telling myself that it can't possibly last more than another 4 months... To top the week off, there was the poison ivy. I seem to be blessed with a rather strong reaction to the weed and have been quite careful about it. But, I didn't know that the roots were also problematic so, while planting the gladioli bulbs (finally), I managed to get myself nicely exposed. Conveniently, the worst of the hip pain was on my right side while the worst of the poison ivy is on my left and I've hit that point where laying on my back results in me throwing up so, not that much sleep was happening. Happily, I saw both my Physical Therapist and OB on Wednesday. The PT put me back in alignment (and was also quite nice about me throwing up in her trash can) and the OB took pity on me and prescribed some nice steroid cream which he assured me wouldn't hurt the baby but has managed to make me feel guilty anyway- when the child needs braces at age 12, I'm pretty sure I'll be certain it's because I couldn't hold out on the poison ivy. I excel at guilt! The PT also told me that the extended morning sickness was doing fabulous things for my stomach muscles. I repeat this to myself several times a day... And, between the morning sickness, chocolate aversion, and extreme sugar sensitivity I have going, excessive weight gain is a near impossibility.
The "good" of the week was the congenital abnormalities ultrasound. The baby looks fantastic. There is a little heart and brain. There are kidneys and lungs and a nicely functioning stomach. There are 2 arms and legs and the lips look good. The baby likes to sit tailor style in the very bottom of my pelvis and chews on it's arm a lot, when it's not rubbing it's eyes in a most adorable manner. Sizewise, the baby has enjoyed feasting on my fat reserves and is smack dab in the middle of the growth chart and right on schedule for a late September delivery. I also think that the baby is almost strong enough for my husband to feel the baby kick. In other good news, I had been feeling considerable anxiety about the gestational diabetes test since sugar tends to make me throw up. I had visions of spending hours and hours knocking back glucose drink, desperately trying to keep it down. On Wednesday, the OB assured me that there were other ways of getting the information and I would only have to throw up once. A great sigh emerged, although, both the OB and my husband found it very amusing that I would think there would be this Atilla-like nurse urging me to "Drink it! AGAIN! Schnell! Schell!" Men!
I got an email informing that this was generally considered to be the most pleasant part of pregnancy. I sobbed. If this was "the best" I thought that it might be advisable to see if the ob could just knock me out for the next 4 months or so. While it looks like I will be having a c-section, my hips, at least, are totally into preparing for vaginal delivery. I am quite the loosey-goosey and I apparently had a "hormone surge" in the last week or so which resulted in my hips throwing themselves completely out of alignment which results in excruciating pain if you want to do anything wild such as roll over in bed or walk. The surge also led to a super fun resurgence of morning sickness which left me puking in not one, but 2 doctor's offices. Whoo! I keep telling myself that it can't possibly last more than another 4 months... To top the week off, there was the poison ivy. I seem to be blessed with a rather strong reaction to the weed and have been quite careful about it. But, I didn't know that the roots were also problematic so, while planting the gladioli bulbs (finally), I managed to get myself nicely exposed. Conveniently, the worst of the hip pain was on my right side while the worst of the poison ivy is on my left and I've hit that point where laying on my back results in me throwing up so, not that much sleep was happening. Happily, I saw both my Physical Therapist and OB on Wednesday. The PT put me back in alignment (and was also quite nice about me throwing up in her trash can) and the OB took pity on me and prescribed some nice steroid cream which he assured me wouldn't hurt the baby but has managed to make me feel guilty anyway- when the child needs braces at age 12, I'm pretty sure I'll be certain it's because I couldn't hold out on the poison ivy. I excel at guilt! The PT also told me that the extended morning sickness was doing fabulous things for my stomach muscles. I repeat this to myself several times a day... And, between the morning sickness, chocolate aversion, and extreme sugar sensitivity I have going, excessive weight gain is a near impossibility.
The "good" of the week was the congenital abnormalities ultrasound. The baby looks fantastic. There is a little heart and brain. There are kidneys and lungs and a nicely functioning stomach. There are 2 arms and legs and the lips look good. The baby likes to sit tailor style in the very bottom of my pelvis and chews on it's arm a lot, when it's not rubbing it's eyes in a most adorable manner. Sizewise, the baby has enjoyed feasting on my fat reserves and is smack dab in the middle of the growth chart and right on schedule for a late September delivery. I also think that the baby is almost strong enough for my husband to feel the baby kick. In other good news, I had been feeling considerable anxiety about the gestational diabetes test since sugar tends to make me throw up. I had visions of spending hours and hours knocking back glucose drink, desperately trying to keep it down. On Wednesday, the OB assured me that there were other ways of getting the information and I would only have to throw up once. A great sigh emerged, although, both the OB and my husband found it very amusing that I would think there would be this Atilla-like nurse urging me to "Drink it! AGAIN! Schnell! Schell!" Men!
Monday, May 15, 2006
On Naming...
I keep being astounded by the names that the women on my boards are throwing around. Having been a student, substitute teacher, and early childhood teacher I have 2 basic rules for our child's name. First, use a typical spelling and second, pick something the substitute teacher can pronounce. The pronunciation thing holds tru even if you'll have some fun nickname for the kid because the class roll always has the proper name and little Beast will not want everyone to know that his real name is Gabrielle.
This does not rule out exotic names that represent heritage. When going with a "heritage name" it is simply doubly important to go with a phonetic spelling and, if possible, keep it to 3 syllables or less.
The element of naming that I find most puzzling is the spelling thing though. The vast majority of our communication is verbal so, even if you got exceedingly creative and managed to stick in 3 y's, replace all s's with c's, and put in a silent "h" for good measure, the world will still know your child as "Kate." All you have managed to do is relegate your child to a lifetime of spelling her name for all and sundry and still getting mail addressed incorrectly. Also, what will your daughter do when she is 12 and must be unique and rebel by changing the spelling of her name?
If you want to do something creative, go wild with the middle name. If your child decides that there is a "McKaty" hiding inside her plain Jane self, then off to the middle name she will go.
This does not rule out exotic names that represent heritage. When going with a "heritage name" it is simply doubly important to go with a phonetic spelling and, if possible, keep it to 3 syllables or less.
The element of naming that I find most puzzling is the spelling thing though. The vast majority of our communication is verbal so, even if you got exceedingly creative and managed to stick in 3 y's, replace all s's with c's, and put in a silent "h" for good measure, the world will still know your child as "Kate." All you have managed to do is relegate your child to a lifetime of spelling her name for all and sundry and still getting mail addressed incorrectly. Also, what will your daughter do when she is 12 and must be unique and rebel by changing the spelling of her name?
If you want to do something creative, go wild with the middle name. If your child decides that there is a "McKaty" hiding inside her plain Jane self, then off to the middle name she will go.
Wednesday, May 10, 2006
Some Kind of Wonderful
So, over the last week I have definitely been able to feel the baby moving. We have an active little bugger. I have started hoping she is a girl, just because she would be so strong. I feel little butterfly kiss kicks. When I do the exercises to help my hips, I feel her roll up and down my abdomen. When it's 4 am and I have a round of insomnia, I have a little someone performing a floor show to keep me occupied. When I have the laptop on my belly, I can feel her pushing against it. I feel her snoozing in spots I didn't even know I had. She also likes to make her mommy queasy.
In the morning, I pray, bargain with my GI track, and carefully drink my tea and eat my 100 calorie Chips Ahoy, Oreos, or peanut butter thins. She is her Daddy's girl and especially likes his peppermint tea with all the extra sugar. Within minutes of starting the slow and cautious coaxing of my stomach the baby makes herself known. Since I am laying still, there is no rocking to lull her back to sleep. There is peppermint seeping into her amniotic fluid, pepping her up (she definitely responds most strongly to peppermint tea) and carbohydrates of all sorts suddenly entering her blood stream. She bounces, she twists, she flutters, she pirouettes , she makes her mommy motion sick. It is some kind of wonderful.
In the morning, I pray, bargain with my GI track, and carefully drink my tea and eat my 100 calorie Chips Ahoy, Oreos, or peanut butter thins. She is her Daddy's girl and especially likes his peppermint tea with all the extra sugar. Within minutes of starting the slow and cautious coaxing of my stomach the baby makes herself known. Since I am laying still, there is no rocking to lull her back to sleep. There is peppermint seeping into her amniotic fluid, pepping her up (she definitely responds most strongly to peppermint tea) and carbohydrates of all sorts suddenly entering her blood stream. She bounces, she twists, she flutters, she pirouettes , she makes her mommy motion sick. It is some kind of wonderful.
Wednesday, May 03, 2006
Why Hast Thou Forsaken Me?
Oh, Fashion Industry, why do you want to put pregnant women in hideous bathing suits? Who wants horizontal stripes across their abdomen, ever? Are some women concerned that they just don't look pregnant enough? Does something happen to pregnant women to make them not notice the hideous color combinations? Khaki is never appropriate for swimwear. Conversely, black is always appropriate for swimwear so, really, next year, go for less fluorescent pink and more solid black- unless you're Land's End and then let's remember that a large hunk of the pregnant population is under 50 and just start with that. Is maternity swimwear where the suits with skirts designers go to die? In addition, why is it necessary for me to buy my bathing suit when it is still at least a month before I can wear it? How did everyone else know to buy the one cute suit in all of creation in April? Where was my memo?
Oh, dear...
The baby seems to enjoy hanging out very low. This has created a rather awkward problem for me when we're out and about. I'm to the point now that I'm sort of showing. If you know I'm pregnant and I'm wearing something somewhat fitted, you can definitely tell I'm pregnant. But, if you didn't know or I'm wearing something looser then no dice. Yesterday, my husband and I were running errands and the baby decided to sit right at the bottom of my pelvis. This was less than comfortable. Usually, I can rub the baby a little until he (or she) gets the hint and shifts a bit but, apparently all the walking was very soothing for the baby (although, not so much for me) and he was enjoying a nice nap. In addition, since the baby was so low, I was stuck having to rub the underside of my belly which is one of those spots that doesn't quite look obscene to rub in public but definitely looks odd- unless, of course, you're pregnant. Unfortunately, I was wearing this nice full skirted dress I have which almost completely conceals my pregnancy. So, the baby wouldn't budge and I was stuck in the middle of Home Depot contemplating exactly how loudly I would need to talk to my husband about our nursery plans to make sure everyone around us knew that I wasn't weird, just pregnant. To make everything more fun, I have realized that I have a rather odd "growth" dilemma. My bazongas are currently causing more wardrobe issues than my tummy. So, while the lovely flowy dress fits my tummy fine, the top was quite constricting and made my chest itch horribly where the seams and zipper were. So, in addition to trying to discretely rub areas which ladies just don't generally rub in public I was also trying to discretely adjust the zipper (conviently located in my armpit), princess seams, and underwire so that I could get really wild and take a deep breath. I had another talk with the baby this morning about how he better be damn cute- if he decides to hang out in my lower pelvis the whole time, I'm adding sleeping through the night at 6 weeks to my demands.
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