39 Weeks

 

The hay is in the barn. The goose is cooked. Dishes are done. All the other fun sayings to imply that something has reached its full course. And for the record, my bump looks much smaller from the top, than it does from the side. That's probably for the best.

 

 

Dear John,

You will be born within a week. About five days, give or take, depending on how eager or stubborn you end up being. We have a scheduled induction set for Sunday (12/15) at 9:30. As it is with so many things, I find myself getting all nostalgic about this pregnancy as I am shuffling through my last days. My mommy mind is already pushing out the thoughts of swollen feet, aching backs, numb hands, plugged ears, stuffed noses, squashed bladders and general malaise and getting weepy over the baby that will be here so soon. Crazy how that happens. I posted once about running my second half marathon and how I couldn't understand how, after going through the pain of childbirth once, how someone could endure that again. I actually wrote it as I was 9 weeks pregnant with your sister (though I wasn't out of the closet at that point).

 

I get it now.

 

After your sister, I was convinced we wouldn't have another, just as I swore I would never run another 13.1 miles after my first half marathon. But once you are at the end, and you know how wonderful you feel having accomplished so much, and how that event has etched something on your person that changed you in a little (half marathon) or HUGE way (Annie), and the aches and pains seem to fade away. You know that the end reward is so much greater than the strain of the journey. It all ends up being so, so worth it.  

 

So here we are. A few days left. Yes, there are a few hurdles remaining, but we will get over them, and memories of the discomfort will fade with each new baby snuggle. And I am sure in a year or so, Rick will have to play back for me the video I forced him to record of me, all bloated and pregnant, talking to my future self, reminding her that we don't want to be pregnant again.

 

We can't wait to meet you. We've carved a spot for you in our lives and can't wait for you to fill it in. You are already so loved and I hope on some level you feel that already. We just have a little bit further to go.

 

See you at the finish line.

 

Love,

Mom

 



Conference-2.5 years old

As I have mentioned, Annie is currently sampling several of the local preschools Webster Groves has to offer. And one of them actually has Parent/Teacher conferences! I guess it's good to know ahead of time if your tot is a social deviant.

 

Annie's was last week.

 

I couldn't wait to hear a relative outsider's perspective on my child. She seems to love school and they seem happy to see her when she gets there. I mean, they don't shut the door in our faces or say things like "oh it's HER again", so I figured things were going well. I mean, I figured if they weren't, someone would have said something. And since Annie rats herself out for getting in trouble at her other school/parent's day out, where she is placed in the "time out chair" on the regular for not listening, I figured she must be on her best behavior at Webster Hills.

 

Mostly, I wanted to see if my child behaved differently at home than she did at school. Was she as funny, bossy, loud and opinionated at school as she is at home?

 

Yes.

 

Unequivocally yes, it would seem.

 

Mrs. Molly informed me that Annie is a very social child, loves her friends and her friends love her (even mentioned that there are a few that will wait for her to get there each day, which warmed my heart) and said that her smile was "magnetic". She's not awesome at listening or sitting still or sharing or taking turns, but they don't expect too much from the 2 year old set there at Webster Hills, which is understandable. They are "working on it" though. She loves to "clean up" and really enjoys cooperative play.

 

When I asked about the "cooperative play" business, I was basically informed that Annie makes up games for her and the class to play and then bosses everyone around. Sounds very similar to every waking hour on the weekends at Casa de Erwin.

 

I then went on to ask about ideas for indoor play/activities since it's freaking cold outside and we are about one big sneeze from having a newborn on our hands.

 

Mrs.Molly mentioned Annie's love of dressing up and asked if she liked to dress up/accessorize at home? 

 

 

Yes, Mrs. Molly, there's a little of that going on.

 

 

And then Mrs. Molly mentioned that Annie has a favorite dress that she wears every day at school. I should mention that we have been limiting the access to the full-blown princess dresses to the weekends because I could tell that we were on a slippery slope when it came to the line between every day clothes and play/princess clothes, and I wasn't ready to fight when Annie wanted to wear her Sofia dress to school. Because I knew that's where all of this was headed. But Annie seemed to accept that "pretty dresses" were for weekends and we wore normal clothes to school. I was so impressed with her acceptance of this fact. I patted myself on the back on a parenting job well done and that was that.

 

I didn't know she was getting her "pretty dress" fix at school.

 

And then, out of curiosity, I asked to see the "Annie's dress".

 

Mrs. Molly went and moved the wall mirror aside in the dress up area, explaining that Annie squirrels her dress away in this spot each day so no one else can find it. Because that's totally normal. And then I got a full view of this dress and all its glory. To say that it didn't seem really toddler appropriate would be an understatement. It was hot pink and black leopard print with black lace ruffles on the arms and around the bottom. I would have snapped a picture of it but I was kind of dumbstruck.

 

So basically Annie dresses like a toddler drag queen every day at school.

But she's happy and has friends and her teachers love her, in all her tacky drag queen glory. I am choosing to focus on that.

 



 

 

37 weeks

This pregnancy, I stand facing my left. I like to mix things up. Keep it interesting. My public demands it.

 

I am 1.5 cm dilated and 50% effaced. I had to look up effacement on my internet because I can't remember these types of things. It's the thinning of the cervix. And because I am clearly now a biology major, after dropping that kind of knowledge on you, I would also like to inform you that I learned yesterday, during what was an exceptionally enthusiastic pelvic exam, that my cervix is apparently located somewhere around my neckbone. They really should just offer you an epidural from 36 weeks on. You hear that, Obama?

 

I came down with a sinus infection last Tuesday night. I remember joking that of course I was getting sick, because Rick was about to leave for three days. I need to learn to not joke about things like that. I was miserable, I couldn't sleep, I couldn't breathe, and when I wasn't crying from being so miserable, my eyes continued to water from the ongoing sinus pressure. Annie and I survived and Rick returned home on Friday to rescue us all. He took Annie to the store to purchase provisions, which involved candy for me (I only want candy when I am sick). When some Nosy McLoserface made the comment "nice dinner, dad" (as annie was no doubt frolicking around in the cart surrounded by skittles and peanut butter M&M's) Annie looked up and screamed at the guy "My MOM IS SICK!!!!!!"

 

I love my people.

 

We are on the road to recovery here. I am weaning myself off the afrin. And the candy. John seems to be as lively as ever (probably from all the candy) and remains in the head down position. He switches from laying on his left and right side and I can feel his little feet around my ribs when he tries to stretch. We set a date for induction of 12/16 if there is no development prior to then. 

 

Really, we just need to make it through this week with no baby as the Erwin support staff is running on a skeleton crew, and I don't want to eat a hospital's version of Thanksgiving. We will continue to lay low and let baby J continue to cook and count the days until 12/16.  



The sick

We had our first Emergency Room visit with Annie on Friday night. Here's how it went down:

 

Thursday was special person day at school. Rick was Annie's special person. 100% symptom free.

 

She woke up on Friday morning after a bit of a restless night and her cheeks were flushed. By the time we were supposed to be getting ready for school, she had a 99.4 degree temperature. I debated sending her, but those cheeks were a dead give-away that something was up so we stayed home and snuggled.

By noon I was convinced I had been played. But whatever. We tried on jewelry and new hairstyles and ate endless amounts of yogurt. It was a nice afternoon. She did seem pretty worn out by naptime so I thought she might have a little bug.

 

She woke up about 45 minutes into her nap with a horrible cough. Since it was Friday and I had never heard her cough like that, I figured it would be better to err on the side of caution and I took her into the doctor to get her checked out. She had 101.5 fever when we were there, but was her usual energetic self whilst in the doc's presence. She didn't cough once and the doc proclaimed that she just had a cold and this was probably as bad as it was going to get.

 

She seemed to get worse almost instantly after leaving the doctor's office. She just seemed lethargic and looked really sad (as you can see above). But a little motrin and Daddy coming home seemed to make everything better.

 

We put her down for the evening at 7:30. I made a snide remark to Rick that I felt like we were in for a long night. I am so smart, sometimes. Or I should learn to not make negative confessions. Either way....at about 9, right when all the urgent care places close, Annie started coughing again. And wheezing. And gagging. It was horrible. She had 104 temp. I called our pediatrician's exchange (only because Rick reminded me that it actually exists) and the nurse asked to listen to Annie breathe. After a determining that Annie had "stridor" (wheezing sound on both the inhale and exhale, which is a sign that there is upper respiratory swelling), she advised us to get Annie into a steamy bathroom while we got everything ready to go to the ER.

 

SIDEBAR: We have one bathroom in our house. I have been complaining to Rick about the lack of hot water in this bathroom for, oh, EVER. Since he doesn't have much hair and doesn't take baths, he thinks it's fine. Here's the actual exchange with the nurse on call:

 

Nurse: Get her to the bathroom and get it really steamy in there. That should help her for the ride to the hospital.

K: Ummm, we have horrible hot water pressure. It will take 10 minutes for the water to just get warm and even then, I am not sure it would be enough.

N: ok, well, how about just running hot water in the sink and putting a towel over her to collect the steam?

K: Again, it takes a long time. And there's not much hot water pressure. (at this point I do start the water in the sink, just so she can hear that I am trying to be a team player)

N: What about your other bathrooms?

K: We only have ONE BATHROOM!

N: Oh really? Oh. Ok. Well, then just probably best to skip all that and get her to the ER.

 

I resisted the urge to defend our decision to live in a house that is so clearly not equipped to handle a family of three, much less any medical emergency. But at least now I have all the ammunition I need to justify fixing our hot water situation. I mean, at this point, it's practically a matter of life and death. Rick is on board.

 

Back to the story....

 

Annie vomits on our bed for good measure right before we leave for the hospital. We threw out our only pair of spare sheets last week during the great basement purge of 2013 because who needs spare sheets? Between this and the bathroom situation, at this point I am seriously questioning every life decision we have ever made.

 

Rick drives because I want to be in the back with Annie. I resist the urge to comment when he brakes at a yellow light.

 

After clarifying that we were there for Annie and not for the hugely pregnant momma/me, we were swept away into the pediatric ER and seen almost immediately. Of course, I had to make some "unless you have a two for one ER special" remark that was met with a tight smile and a shake of the head. No one gets me.

 

Thanks to Doc McStuffins, Annie was the perfect patient. Possibly a little too perfect. I am sure they went back to check her file to verify that they didn't have some sort of Munchausen's by Proxy situation on their hands since she knew the whole routine: listen to the chest, listen to the back, check my ears, check my throat, lifts up her arm for temp check. Maybe we just have a future doctor on our hands?

 

The doc confirmed that she did have "classic croup" and that we were right to bring her in. Since her stridor wasn't constant, we avoided breathing treatments and she was given steroids to reduce the swelling and that was that. I am sure that saved us $1,500.00.

Annie coerced the nurse into giving her a "pop pop" at midnight. This is probably the only thing she will remember about this visit-that she got to have a pop pop in her PJs while it was dark outside. I knew she was feeling better when she looked at me and said "you not funny, Kawee (Kaly)". Like I said, no one gets me.

 

After sleeping a little too soundly for my liking, resulting in me checking on her approximately 75 times in the night, she woke up and was all better. Still a little hoarse and had a touch of a cough, but nothing a few days in her Sophia dress won't fix.

34 Weeks

Greetings from the longest pregnancy ever!!!! There is something so strange about being pregnant almost an entire calendar year. But, that was the plan so no complaints there (at least none that I will document here).

 

We had our 34 week checkup yesterday. I have about 7 pounds until I hit where I was with my final weight with Annie. I feel like this baby is just a huge ball right out front, which now makes it necessary for me to sport a belly band under all my clothes, lest people get a peek at the underside of ye ol' bump. 

 

Belly Band hiding about 4 inches of what would be exposed skin in most of my maternity shirts.

 

The logical solution would be to buy new shirts, but I absolutely refuse to spend one more cent on maternity clothes. My advice to any new moms is to stock up on your maternity basics early. Maybe even when you are trying to get pregnant. Just buy it and wear it and get your money's worth. Sure, you will look like a crazy person, but think of how comfy you will be with all that spandex and billowy fabric floating around you. Hear me out.

 

The temptation is to try to wear your "normal" clothes as long as possible. This will inevitably backfire because you WILL get to a point where those clothes don't fit and it's time to cuddle up with an elastic waistband. In reality, you probably should have stopped wearing your normal clothes about 5 weeks ago, but you were determined to make it work. By this point you are 25 weeks in and you start thinking, "well, I just have 15 more weeks, I don't want to buy a bunch of clothes for that short of a period of time." So you think it's ok to just have a few shirts and a few pairs of pants. And you will wear these same shirts and pants every damn day for what will seem like an eternity and you will feel like crap and daydream about your normal wardrobe and loathe getting dressed every morning in your gray/black/brown/darker gay cotton t-shirt and jeans. So buy all that crap early and wear it out, pregnant or not. If someone asks you why you are wearing maternity clothes if you are not pregnant, just wink and say "you never know!" or "just in case!" or something equally vague and bizarre and that should be the end of that conversation.

 

But back to where we are with the pregnancy....two more weeks until John is no longer considered premature. Two more weeks until we start going every week for checkups. He's about 20 inches long and about 5 pounds. Annie was 20 inches long when she was born, so he's about as long as he's going to be, he just needs to plump up a bit. We think he's head down, but arms and legs are sunny side up, when they should be facing down (ideally). Dr. J says that's an easy flip to make so he's not worried about it. We will confirm his position at the 36 week checkup. My belly was measuring at 35 weeks at this visit, but Annie always measured a bit ahead, if I recall correctly.

 

I organized his clothes this weekend and we have a fairly respectable wardrobe for the little fella from newborn through 2 years, thanks to some generous loaner clothes from Team Botanical and some co-workers. We got the swing, bouncer, play gym, and bassinette back from my friend and those are all ready for action. We'll probably get the car seat out after the next appointment. His crib is all ready to go and only sometimes is used as a storage facility for Annie's dress-up clothes.

 

42 days to go!

 

 

 

Change of Heart

I am a chatter. I am the person that makes small talk with people in the grocery line, on an airplane, in the doctor's office, where ever I see an opportunity to crack wise with a stranger. I have no idea why I do this, and I think it sort of drives my little introvert husband batty, but whatever. I really can't seem to help myself.

So, yesterday I was in the middle of nowhere, Missouri getting gas and about to head back to St. Louis when this HUGE truck and even HUGER (trust, it's a word) trailer/camper thing pull into the pumps across from me. I am not exaggerating when I say that the whole set up between the truck and the camper took up two whole dispenser islands and then some hanging off the back. This thing was sweet. No cheesy decals with deer and lake scenes to be had on this puppy. Even the tires on the camper had nice rims! There were new, cute bikes hanging off the back. It looked like something straight off the Showcase Showdown. You know, the second one they show, that kicks the ass of the first one that contained a year's supply of mayo and a push lawn mower.

A nice looking older lady stepped around the side of the camper while her husband spent $1,000 in gas to fill up his truck. I had to say something.... 

K: Wow, I want to go on road trips with your family!
OL: Well, work really hard and save lots of money and you can!

.....
.......
Crickets. Slow turn back to my previously scheduled gas pumping.

Um, if the road trip involves lessons on fiscal responsibility and long term savings plans, with a heaping dose of condescension, then I think I'll take a rain check.

But those rims were sweet.

Evolution of an Addiction

I never thought it would be my child. She just didn't seem to have the personality for it. It just didn't fit. I didn't see the signs. We were caught unaware. All the parenting clichés you hear when you find a child has fallen deep down the well of addiction.....

 

...to face painting.

 

The first one was free. They always are. And it was a pretty simple design as far as face painting goes. The fact that she sat as still as a statue should have been my first red flag.

 

The next time, it was free, but with the price of admission. And there was glitter.

 

Free, but not without cost. My normally antsy and impatient child waited over 30 minutes for this masterpiece. Glitter and butterflies. All over the face.

 

This happened at school. Clearly the descent into madness has begun. I am still not certain who is behind this little number.

 

 

And then there was this weekend. Yes, there was face painting, but it wasn't free. The evil genius behind this operation had a big board with pictures of various designs and their associated prices attached. Prices ranged from $3-$9. Rick immediately balked. Why should we pay for something that we've been getting for free for so long (or the past four weekends)?

 

Uh, because she's freaking out and we told her there would be face painting. We didn't qualify that she could only do FREE face paining. And, I have to admit, I kind of am entranced by watching my child sit motionless for five minutes. I even contemplated how much it would be to just have a face painter come live with us full time. You should note that a smile is never cracked during any of this. It's all business and has seemed to already lost some of its luster. We are in the maintenance phase of the addiction at this point.

 

 

Ultimately, the face was painted. The design is more elaborate, but the level of entertainment/excitement did not increase. Her tolerance is up. I am not sure what the end game is here. Perhaps we just wait out the Halloween season and hope she tapers off.  

 

One thing is for certain: there's no such thing as a free face paint.

 

True Story

 

Anyone who was around me after Annie was born witnessed my "new Mom out-of-it" zombie-like state. I think it's safe to say, I was like that for a good six months. I remember being thrilled when I actually got to shower and thinking the only occasion for which blowing my hair dry would ever be worthy again was to attend the Oscars. I wore mis-matched flip flops in public and was a general mess.

 

And I didn't care.

 

Not in a "give up on life" kind of not caring, but in a "survival mode, do what is important and the rest will have to wait" level of not caring. I just cared about our baby and feeding her and being with Rick and maybe getting some sleep in here or there. I vividly remember eating cold lasagna (made by our neighbors) straight out of the fridge with my hands because ain't nobody got time for a plate or a fork!

 

But then things got better, as someone told me they would, and eventually I was showering fairly regularly and even BLOWING MY HAIR DRY, even though I had not yet received my invite to the Oscars. And then I started even having time to search the internet again (a task I had completely thought was in my past life, along with reading US Weekly and drinking coffee that was actually hot). And I saw all these cute crafts that people had done with their ultrasounds and hospital bracelets and I thought "I should do something like that!".

 

So I went to where I thought I had put all things special and important and the ultrasounds and bracelets weren't there. And then I realized I didn't even remember taking off those bracelets, so how could they be in Annie's special box???? And then I starting tearing apart the house and storage bins, frantically searching for these hospital bracelets because, dear God, what kind of mother would throw out her hospital bracelets and if I did, surely I should anticipate a visit from Child Protective Services because there was no way I was fit to be a mother.

 

And maybe I wasn't completely out of the woods on the sleep deprived new Mom thing either.

 

But just when I was about to slap on the cuffs and call CPS to turn myself in, I looked up on the wall in Annie's room.



 

Quite literally, staring me in the face.

 

 

Rick. My sweet Rick.

 

Thank you for knowing what is special and important and for keeping it safe and knowing exactly what I need, even when I don't (at the time). I don't know what I would do without you.

 

Happy Anniversary.

30 weeks

Well HELLOOOOO there, belly! It looks like I ate Waldo.

 

We are 30 weeks pregnant as of today. That's 75% complete. Those who know me and my scholastic career know I would never settle for 75% so we will continue to press forward until we are as close to 100% as possible. I am not looking to be any spectacular over-achiever like I was with Annie's pregnancy, so I will settle for not exceeding 100% of my allotted pregnancy time this go round.

 

John/Boom is about 18 inches long, a little over 3 pounds and is almost the length he will be at birth, which is nice to think about. Given the lack of real estate in my "vessel", I don't like to think of him getting too much longer.

 

I was wrong when I stated previously that we had another month until we went to visits every two weeks. We are now going every two weeks to be measured and listen for the heart beat. Then, at 36 weeks they will start checking me for "progress". That's when the real invasive fun starts to ramp up. At yesterday's appointment I measured 31 weeks, which I think happened with Annie as well. Dr. J didn't seem alarmed by it. I then went through my list of ailments to make sure I am not missing some opportunity for relief. It basically sounds like everything I am feeling is perfectly normal, although admittedly cause for discomfort. The most notable new development is the sensation of being stabbed in a part of my female anatomy that shall not be mentioned in a blog that is read by my in-laws and my grandfather. And the "stabbing" word was the Doctor's, not mine, but I find it 100% accurate. Apparently that's just pressure on nerve endings. No big deal. Unless it causes you to cry out in pain in the middle of a conference call. They needed to be paying closer attention anyway. It's fine.

 

Dr. J did make one comment that I am holding on to. He said "we just need for you to stay pregnant for six more weeks. That's all you have to do."

 

Six weeks.

 

6 more Saturdays with just the three of us. I can't think too much about this without getting choked up/freaking out.

 

What seemed like an eternity before that comment now seems to be a blink away. I find myself torn between wanting the time to go by quickly and wishing it would just stand still so I can soak up every bit of these last weeks with Annie.

 

I need Team Botanical to make me a punch list of to-do things before the baby gets here, but my mind is too all over the place to even figure that out. We have clothes, we have a bed, we have a car seat (that needs to be cleaned-add that to the list, Debbie), but we have a boat load of stuff that I loaned out that I need to retrieve. That's the last major piece of this puzzle.

 

And then after that, I can be found at home, washing my heartburn medicine down with my fiber drink, making trips to the bathroom every 14 minutes, loving on my soon-to-be-big-sister and waiting for 6-10 weeks to pass. Here's to hoping it goes by fast...but not too fast.

 

 

28 Months

Dear Annie,

You are 28 months old now. Or six, which is your answer when people ask your age. Thankfully, you don't act six just yet. You love playing with princesses and puzzles are your latest obsession. You seem to know that I am incapable of leaving an unfinished puzzle on the ground, so dumping out your alphabet puzzle right before lights out has become your most effective nighttime stalling routine.

 

Going to bed has gotten much easier. At nap time I usually sit in the room with you until you fall asleep, which takes about 10 minutes. At night, we read a few books (or we read your book of pictures of your "friends" from school 5x) and then one of us sits with you until you ask for something (feet covered, water, a wipe for your face, kiss a boo boo) and we comply with one request and then we leave the room. This has been fairly successful. There is sometimes a return trip required but it's fairly quick.

 

You have endless energy. You love to be outside and play "ball game", which essentially involves throwing the ball up in the air and avoiding it on the way down. Now that the weather has cooled, I love being out there with you. We stockpile pine cones and look for worms and pretend we are getting blown away by the wind and you always come to my rescue.

 

You are currently existing on a diet of peanut butter (eaten off a spoon, because who wants to waste time with bread?), yogurt, fruit, goldfish/pretzels, and sometimes pasta. At dinner time I always give you what we are eating plus some yogurt. You eat the yogurt and say "all done!" and want to get down. I have essentially just let this item go for now. You are growing and I know you will come around eventually. We do practice waiting until we are all finished eating to leave the table, which makes you crazy but you get over it.

 

You had still been sleeping with your binkie, though there wasn't much left to it other than a handle and a plastic nub. But you would still ask for it and I figured it wasn't causing any dental harm any more, so why not? You would sleep with it clutched in your hand and as you would fall asleep, it would inevitably drop and if you were sleeping on your stomach, it would drop behind your bed. You would then wake up at 2:00 in the morning, frantically searching for binkie and we would end up turning on flashlights, moving the bed, and it was all very disruptive. Not to mention the fact that bending over right now is on my list of "Most Hated Things to Do". I could just hear me chatting with a labor and delivery nurse, asking why I am going into early labor and starting off with "well, you see my daughter has this binkie that she holds..." So on Sunday, the binkie got "lost". And while you didn't nap that day, I don't really blame the binkie absence for the lack of sleep. That night, there was no mention of the binkie and yesterday you asked "Where Annie binkie go?" and that was pretty much it. It was such a non-issue that I am both relieved and a little disappointed. I mean, where's the loyalty here? Thankfully we still have whammy (which you now call mimi, which used to be the name for binkie-how quickly things are replaced) and I don't think either of us are ready for you to ditch that one any time soon.

 

We are making minor headway on the potty, but nothing major to report. You are primarily using it as a bargaining tool to obtain gummy bears at this point. I might be in the market for a professional potty trainer, if anyone knows a guy who knows a guy with that special set of skills.

 

Rain briefly collects in this one spot in the driveway, and it's your favorite. Then you always ask "where water go?" and give me a sideways glance when I say "evaporation and absorption". Sometimes Mom isn't so great at explaining things.

 

You are big on lining up and organizing things these days. Drawers must be shut and doors must be closed. You are also very observant and noticed when I switched my wedding ring and when I was wearing a t-shirt that you felt was Daddy's property.

Bath time with Dad is one of your favorites. He always leaves the room soaked from the splashing games you play.

Buzz Lightyear hands...and a lesson learned by Mom and Dad to always make sure that toys that make noise and are motion activated have an on/off switch.

Brentwood carnival and more fun with Dad. I love watching you two together.

 

The sweetest face ever.

 

Last weekend we were at a local jazz festival and you were dancing and holding court and a lady leaned down to you and said "You're adorable." You looked at me then you looked at her and said, with the most serious of faces, "No! I strong!"

 

Adorable and strong. And brave and smart and kind and funny. Everything I could have ever hoped for and a heap on top of that.

 

I love you, sweet girl.

Mom

 



27 weeks, 3rd Trimester

Dear John,

Can I call you John? That is, after all, your name. It's what we call you at home because I figure it's going to be confusing enough to Annie to have a new baby in the house, much less one that we called Boom for 9 months, only to now refer to it as something that is slightly less exciting. So you are our John. Or as Annie says, Joan.

 

I would like to apologize in advance for the complete shaft you have gotten in the posting department. There are several things going on here. First, when I was pregnant with your sister, I didn't have your sister running around and zapping every ounce of energy and creativity out of me on a daily basis. Don't get me wrong, I love every minute of it, but after an afternoon of playing in rain puddles and "washing" princesses and squirreling pine cones in every orifice of a dead (or about to be dead, thanks to us) tree in our neighbor's yard, blogging just seems to.....not happen. And then there's the fact that we don't have a home computer anymore. Well, we do, but Rick has it all rigged up to the TV and it's doing something very fancy and you can't move it or else all our memories (both human and computer) will be erased and all hell will break loose. So no touchie the computer, which means that I could type up a post on an iPad, but that just sounds like torture. And I don't need more torture.

 

Which brings me to what I suspect might be the main reason. My mother told me if I don't have anything nice to say, then don't say anything at all. Or she might have said for me to call her and tell her all the not nice things, but either way, I am pretty sure I don't want all my cliché pregnancy woes to be documented for all time on the internet. Plus, whiny pregnant ladies are pretty boring and I am well aware that there are MANY out there that would give anything to be where I am, so I shut up and deal. I will say that this pregnancy has been very different than the one with your sister. My body is older, I am more tired, and the fact of the matter is I just can't hang like I used to. So I am sorry, sweet boy, that the whole thing isn't as well documented as Annie's, and you won't likely have a BOOK made out of the posts I wrote about your pregnancy like your Dad did for Super, but know that you were loved every step of the way, even if it's not all over the internet.



 

 

27 weeks+2 days.

 

 

A positive difference to this pregnancy is that I don't feel like such a maniac. I felt in a near constant state of panic when I thought about getting ready for Annie. Now, the room is finished (adjusted colors for Annie's new roommate) and we have sorted clothes for you, we already have all the big ticket items, and it's just a waiting game at this point. And I think I was much more emotional (read: crazy) with your sister. I remember some pretty massive melt-downs over lord knows what (HOW ARE THERE SO MANY KINDS OF PREGNANCY PILLOWS? HOW CAN I EVER DECIDE? I WILL SURELY GIVE BIRTH BEFORE I MAKE UP MY MIND AND WHAT IF I CHOOSE THE WRONG ONE????-true story). Now, don't get me wrong, I am by no means all tranquil and logical over here, but my meltdowns have been over completely sane things like feeling like my body is not my own and how freaking tired I am. Trust that in the grand scheme of things that pregnant women can freak out about, these are pretty standard. Rick might feel differently though. Perhaps he learned from the first time around to just nod, agree, and run for cover instead of engaging the beast. Either way, it seems to be working out.

 

We are officially in the home stretch here. 12 weeks and 5 days left. I have one more monthly doctor's visit before we switch to bi-weekly (or is it bi-monthly? I can't EVER keep those straight-we go every two weeks...back off). There's hospital talk and planning and discussions about where I will nurse you and where we will put the bassinet. There are fuzzy sleepers in a drawer and the boppy has been washed and ready for action. We are getting to the good stuff, and I plan to focus on that from now until I see your face. Can't wait.

 

Love,

Mom

pregnancy brain, 26 weeks+6 days

Mornings are usually a scramble. I try to get as much done as possible before Annie wakes up. Rick usually packs her lunch, I scarf down some food and try to appear as if I have showered in the last 24 hours. Sometimes I have, sometimes I haven't. The fun part is, I look the same (read: scary) regardless. Who can keep track of things like personal hygiene anyway?

 

This morning I decided to take advantage of some of the clothes my sister had passed down to Annie from her girls, since I knew they wouldn't fit next year and I just came across them this past weekend, even though they were in a bin clearly labeled (by yours truly) "ANNIE SPRING 2T CLOTHES, GO THROUGH MARCH 2013"....and then I must have shoved the box deep in the bowels of the basement never to be seen again, until the end of summer.

 

But I checked the weather and figured it was a perfect day for the cute little sleeveless top and flowered shorts. Sure, it was a little chilly when we left this morning, but I had checked by Weather Channel app and it said the high was 87. Annie mentioned a few times she was cold on the way to the car, but I tossed her rain coat in her general direction and assured her it would warm up soon.

 

I kept looking out the window over the course of the day wondering if it just looked like fall outside? Then a co-worker came in and mentioned that it was a bit chilly out there. And I looked at my phone again...

 

 

 

So the high today is 87 degrees.

 

In Atlanta.

 

Sorry, baby girl. Make sure and thank Jen for the sweatshirt. 

In the Words fo Dora The Explorer....

...WE DID IT! "It" being that Annie went to her first day of the school before the school before kindergarten. Pre-pre school? I am not even sure what to call it, which is why there was no cutesy sign for her to hold announcing that today was her first day. That, coupled with the fact that I was too busy running around like a maniac, filling out forms and packing extra outfits should Annie decide she wants to be "that kid" that craps her dress on the first day of school.

 

I, for one, was a bit thankful for the bustling morning. It kept me distracted from the though that my baby was going to a school. Albeit a school before the school. But she would have teachers and classmates and make friends that aren't the friends I force upon her because I am friends with their mom. 

 

 

Annie, however, was as cool as a cucumber. She spent the morning drawing and watching Wreck it Ralph. Standard Thursday morning fare.

 

New dress, old shoes. Because I would NEVER send her off in shoes that had not already been tried and tested on just about every playground in a 3 mile radius. Fun fact: you can't climb up a slide in Toms. Some would argue that you are not supposed to. I am not one of those people.

 

This is about as good as it got for the pre-pre school picture.

 

 

Because it's a big day, and I felt I needed to stuff down my emotions with sugary treats, we stopped for doo-dut (donut) holes. And because I am an Erwin and knew I would arrive obscenely early, the iPad was brought to pacify Annie as we waited for the appropriate arrival time.

 

We spotted sweet Mary Grace on our way in, who walked with annie and showed her how to properly hold her school bag.

 

 

And then we were in the classroom. There was playdoh and hand washing and we hung up our bag and I choked back sobs. There was a boy whose screaming and crying sounded a lot like what was going on inside me, but I held back actual tears. I guess leaving your child in the care of others since they were 8 weeks old has finally started to pay dividends because she hardly noticed my departure.

 

 

She sat right down, found her weapon of choice (rolling pin) and waited for someone to try to take her playdoh. It was just as we had discussed. Everyone knows the first rule of pre pre-school is to establish dominance.

 

So, sweet Annie, once again you showed me how strong you are, though this time without the flexing and baring of teeth. I love you and know you will have a wonderful day. I can't wait to hear all about it over some afternoon doo-duts.

This is Serious Business

I work in an office building. It's nice enough, as office buildings go. But my most frav-rite (to quote a young Chloe Hagemann) thing about the building was our vending machine. It was as if it was stocked by a 16 year old pregnant woman with a case of the munchies. It had a good selection of salty and sweet snacks, with the occasional healthy treat thrown in there (which never got consumed). There were also some canned sodas that were stashed somewhere within the bowels of the machine, but I never messed with that. I am a vending machine purist.

 

There must be a bunch of eaters in this building because you had to move fast on that there vending machine, or else the Twix you were eyeing on your way in the building might be gone come 2:00. For the early part of my pregnancy, it was not uncommon for me to have a two-visit vending machine kind of day.

 

Then one day it was GONE!

 

A gaping hole where my dear, sweet office buddy once was. And part of me died, and part of me thought this was the pregnancy Gods intervening and maybe, just maybe, I might be able to escape this pregnancy with under 100 pound weight gain.

 

Then, just as quickly as it was gone, there was a new vending machine in its place. At first glance, this one seemed fancy and with all that space, certainly could accommodate all the hungry overeaters in this building.

 

And then I looked at the contents.

 

 

THREE ROWS OF DRINKS???????

 

I don't know if you can tell from the picture, but to add insult to injury, there are two rows of bottled water. The same brand of bottled water. Two rows. We HAVE water fountains in this building. What we don't have is a monkey fighting snickers fountain!!!!! I think there's even a Monster Energy Drink in there. I can't be sure because my brain blanked out from fury somewhere around the middle of the second row of drinks. Am I working in a video game development building all of a sudden? Who over the age of 17 drinks that stuff anyway?

And Orange Juice. Because everyone wants their OJ straight from the vending machine.

And the chips. The freaking chips. Eight chip options. Six of which are of the cheddar/nacho/chili cheese variety. That's 6 of 8. Or 3/4ths for those of you that have my advanced math skills (did you know 4 out of 3 people have problems with fractions?-best bumper sticker ever). And because the chips share space with the soda, you have the privilege of having your chips chilled for you. Nothing is quite as refreshing as chilled greasy chips!

ONE candy option. This is where they really get me. Peanut M&Ms. The candy with the most disappointing candy volume to bag size ratio. Two rows of them. It's as if the person that stocked this machine wants everyone in the building to be miserable. If a major law firm in St. Louis that happens to share this machine with me goes under, I think we all know who to blame.

So, in case you can't tell, I am not impressed with this new machine. So much so that I may or may not be penning a strongly worded sticky note for after-hours placement. I told you, this is serious business.

23 weeks-pregnancy dreams

Boom is around 8.5 inches long and is over a pound now. I feel him kick and move fairly regularly, but I will say that I think he is much less active than Annie was. I am holding out hope that this will be an indication of his actual personality. Don't get me wrong, I love my on-the-go toddler, but the thought of two children with that level of energy makes me want to crawl into a dark cave and sleep.

Speaking of sleep, the most fun new development with the pregnancy is very vivid and bizarre dreams. The other night I dreamt that my ipad was cracked (which it is in real life) and I ate the bottom half of the screen glass. There was this plastic liner over the whole thing that, once I ATE THE GLASS, ended up looking like I had half an iPad in a Ziploc bag. I was regretting that I ATE MY IPAD, so I took my Ziploc iPad to Rick, held it out in front of him and asked, as if there wasn't anything odd about a half eaten iPad, if he thought we could return it.

Last night I had a dream that I was going on a cruise by myself, and that Taylor Swift was my concierge. But she made me call her Jennifer so she could keep a low profile. She said she did this on the side to raise some extra cash. I remember being scared because I felt the cruise ship was dangerous, but relieved that I had my Jennifer with me. Because everyone knows that in a disaster, no one's going to let anything happen to Taylor Swift.

I think I need to stop reading my US Weekly on my iPad before bed. And maybe have a snack instead.

21 weeks

We are past the halfway mark, people! It's all downhill from here, because everyone knows the second half of pregnancy is a total cakewalk. But, I cannot complain. This summer has been downright delightful, temperature wise. I think the high this week is something like 84 degrees. Compared to the usual 120 degree highs of Augusts past, I will take it.

 

Pregnancy with a toddler really makes things zip by. There are times I even forget I am pregnant, until I struggle to catch up with Rick and the stroller at the zoo (it's not a race, fella) or find myself resting my coffee cup on my now functional table/belly in the mornings. Then there's also the pregnancy conversations that I had forgotten about until the last few weeks, when people seem to feel comfortable enough to take the risk and comment on my pregnancy, fairly certain that I am not just letting myself go:

 

There's the innocent "so how far along are you?"

 

The inquisitive "so do you know what you are having?" which can sometimes be followed up by the "we didn't want to find out" response by the asker. Which is fine, if they would stop there. But some don't stop....."there are so few great surprises in this life, we wanted to wait. It's more special that way."

 

Actual conversation. It's more special. Ok, stranger lady operating the deli counter. Good to know.

 

I guess the thing that I forgot about pregnancy is that it is an open invitation for people to comment on your size, your decisions, the baby's size, tell you horror stories of nightmare pregnancies. I just don't get it. But it happens. All.The.Time.

 

It's an entirely different situation to be discussing these things with your girlfriend, who has an open invitation to share stories and experience. I welcome that. I do not, however, welcome the judgment of strangers.

 

But I had forgotten about the other grand thing about pregnancy: The Pregnancy Pass. The phenomenon that possibly cancels out the annoyance of the Pregnancy Judgers. The fact that other women now hold doors for you, and flight attendants are extra nice, and people offer to help you with your grocery bags, and you can cry at those stupid dog adoption commercials with the Sarah McLaughlin song and sleep in a bit on the weekends because you are The Pregnant One. Blame it on the hormones. And the Pregnancy Pass can be evoked when you snap at a stranger for saying "are you sure there's just one in there?", though I am pretty sure they had that one coming. You have to be careful when using TPP, because people like husbands and coworkers do grow weary of accepting this excuse. 10 months of dealing with a crazy person is a long time.

 

So yes, I am showing, and people are noticing, which all means that Boom is growing and that is all that matters. We had our anatomy scan last week and got to meet this handsome fella:



 

We confirmed he has all his parts, including verifying the Materniti21 test that he is, in fact, a boy!

 

 

Here's a bathroom shot from yesterday. Still manageable bump, in my humble opinion. Annie will now say goodnight to the baby, which is about the sweetest thing ever. Though she gets very disappointed when she asks to see him and I say she has to wait a while. But it's safe to say that we are all getting excited to get to see and hold this guy.

 

And then I get to use the all powerful NEWBORN PASS, which makes it perfectly acceptable to leave the house in breast milk stained clothing and flip flops that don't match. Or to not leave the house at all. Which since this baby will be born in December, is probably the route we will go.

This Summer

I remember how long summer sounded on that first day after school let out. Three whole months. Maybe not whole months, but days in portions of months, when there was no school or homework. Where you could spend endless amounts of time playing, hunting down the ice cream man, and staying up late. Infinite possibilities and endless amount of time to get it all accomplished. And then....

 

BAM!

 

It's August and your mom is dragging you out for back to school shopping and school supplies.

 

It still feels like that, 37 years later. I was excited for this summer. Annie would be big enough to do some big girl things, we would no longer be trapped indoors, and I felt like I had a good "to do" list of activities. I think I kept the mental list starting last summer when we would try things and they would be difficult due to one reason or another and I would think "this will be perfect next summer".

 

And they are. 

 

Rides at the fair.

More rides, and a little girl who is not afraid to ride them.

 

A child who is comfortable around water...

 

....sometimes a little too comfortable.

 

And cuteness abounds.

 

 

But then there's the pregnancy. The pregnancy that makes me think that maybe we should take a nap instead of going to the pool. Or maybe it's best to stay indoors and close to home because it's just easier.

 

But as any of you that have ever even heard mention of a toddler, nothing is ever easy. So when we were given the option of spending a week down with my parents at the beach, my initial thought was "no, that will be too hard." I would have to fly down with Annie by myself, and then Rick would come down a few days later. And it would be difficult and tiring and....you know how it goes.

 

But then the memory maker side of my brain kicks in. And I start realizing that this may be our last trip as a family of 3. And while it's not easy by any means, the business of traveling is about to get a bit trickier. And the grandparents were offering to watch Annie during the day so I could get some work done until Rick got to town.

 

So we said yes. And we went. And the flight was not easy. But as it goes with toddlers, it was an adventure and a few tears were shed (by all parties) and many pop-pops (lollipops) were consumed (again, by both parties) and eventually you get to where you are going. And you manage to have some fun along the way.

 

And then you are there and you forget how hard it was....



Because it's perfect.

 

And you get to eat push pops at 9 in the morning while feeding fish off the dock.

 

And eat more pop pops and run on the beach.

 

And learn to love the ocean as her mom and dad and aunts and uncles and cousins did before her.

 

And eat more pop pops.

 

Did I mention the pop pops?

 

And then you get home and it's still summer and there's still some time do to the hard, but so fun things....

like dressing up to play ball in the driveway at 7:00 in the morning,

And going the wrong way on a slide...

 

..and coloring in the drive with your big cousins who have endless patience.

 

I am already feeling nostalgic about this summer, this pregnancy, this stage where Annie is and our family is right now. Stepping over into the second half of the pregnancy and the last part of summer, I just have to keep reminding myself that the hardest things are always the ones with the greatest reward.