Ah, where do I begin?
We are having some real behavioral issues at our house as of late. I broke down and called our ped to get her advice and we'll be talking on Wednesday. Ethan has really taken a disliking of Meghan and it concerns me. We're not talking about the usual display of jealousy, either. We're talking physical harm in some cases. Meghan is crawling (has been since just after our trip home from Ocean City) and wants so desperately to be a part of their playtime. She adores Ethan. Really. She watches him so intently and just lights up whenever he walks into the room. She always smiles at him. So, since she wants to be near him, she crawls to wherever he is in the room and wants to play with whatever he plays with. This does not sit well with The Crabby Professor. Meghan is not allowed to play with ANYTHING. He goes as far as taking *her* toys away from her. Even if he's playing in the hallway (to get as far away from her as he can), if she crawls over to the blocks, he is running into the room screaming at her and he'll quickly snatch it out of her hands. If she tries to go towards his precious cars, he freaks out. If she plays with any of her own toys, he freaks out. It's really getting to be an issue for us. In addition to all of this, he is becoming increasingly physical with her. The last event was Friday when he lept across the floor and landed on her head. And, no, it was not accidental. So, I made a point to spend some one-on-one time with him today and, wouldn't you know it? He was an angel. I enjoyed every moment with him and he was just a pleasant child. Elizabeth was also a pure joy to be with this afternoon. And, of course, the moment we put them together this evening with Meghan? Match, accelerant, and a spark.....
I have tried everything I can possibly think of to resolve this. I have even sat him down and quietly explained that Meghan loves him and looks up to him, that she wants to be just like her big brother... I even resorted (after the leaping head incident) to giving Meghan his precious blankie because he hurt her. I've spanked, I've whispered, I've seperated, I've put Meghan's toys into a special bucket, I've put his toys into a special bucket, I've cried, I've begged, I've bribed. Nothing.
The Professor also has an appointment this week because he snores. Not only does he snore, but he really, really snores. I can hear him in our bedroom at night. So, chances are pretty likely that he'll be having his adnoids removed in the near future. They both have dark circles under their eyes, which I attribute to allergies of some sort. I have them (always have), my brother has them (again, always has) and the twins have always have them.
Miss M has two full teeth, now, and is working on three more. She weighed in at 16.10 at her 6 month appointment and is growing like a weed.
Aaaaand, speaking of Miss M, she is up for her 1:30 feed so I'm cutting this short.
(I'm up late because we went to see Paranormal Activity tonight. Great movie!)
Sunday, October 25, 2009
Thursday, October 1, 2009
Monday, September 21, 2009
Hail to the Redskins!
It's football season. In true "obsessed" daddy fashion, Jason has taught the kids how to sing the Redskins song.
In case you need translation:
Hail to the Redskins!
Hail victory!
Braves on the warpath!
Fight for old D.C.!
In case you need translation:
Hail to the Redskins!
Hail victory!
Braves on the warpath!
Fight for old D.C.!
Sunday, September 13, 2009
Our first night of vacation at the beach house. They were exhausted.
Yet again, exhausted. On our way to Bethany Beach from Ocean City.
Meghan's first day at the beach and she loved it!
The baby Terp fan.
A quick recap of our vacation:
I got to sleep on what could possibly have been a mattress full of boulders on the bottom bunk. Why? Because the E's would not sleep in a room by themselves and we tried, on the first night to sleep together. All four of us. In a queen bed. Then, Meghan woke up and wanted to nurse. In bed. With the other kids. I quickly realized if I wanted any sort of sleep, I'd be in the third bedroom with M. Jason slept in the second bedroom with the E's for the rest of the vacation. Day #2 allowed for some decent weather, albeit mostly cloudy. We were blessed with two hours of beach time before the tropical storm hit. Day #3, 4, 5 and 6 were spent dodging raindrops as we attempted to keep the kids busy. We managed to get a few hours of light drizzle on the boardwalk and took the kids on a surrey ride. They loved it! I'll be looking for a bike trailer on craigslist soon. Day # 5 found us hunkered in the house in the evening, watching the streets flood and the surf get closer and closer...almost too close for comfort. I managed to get in some shopping (major event for me as I detest shopping) at the tax-free outlets. I spent exactly $100.00 and the kids are set for fall and winter clothing. Go, me! Our last day (and check-out day) found us waking to a beautiful, sunny day. Go figure. So, rather than packing up and heading home immediately, we headed for the boardwalk and the kids rode the rides and we soaked up some rays as they played on the beach before heading home. Never have I been so happy to fall into my bed. We successfully avoided packing the entire house and, all-in-all, we had a wonderful trip.
Yet again, exhausted. On our way to Bethany Beach from Ocean City.
Meghan's first day at the beach and she loved it!
The baby Terp fan.
A quick recap of our vacation:
I got to sleep on what could possibly have been a mattress full of boulders on the bottom bunk. Why? Because the E's would not sleep in a room by themselves and we tried, on the first night to sleep together. All four of us. In a queen bed. Then, Meghan woke up and wanted to nurse. In bed. With the other kids. I quickly realized if I wanted any sort of sleep, I'd be in the third bedroom with M. Jason slept in the second bedroom with the E's for the rest of the vacation. Day #2 allowed for some decent weather, albeit mostly cloudy. We were blessed with two hours of beach time before the tropical storm hit. Day #3, 4, 5 and 6 were spent dodging raindrops as we attempted to keep the kids busy. We managed to get a few hours of light drizzle on the boardwalk and took the kids on a surrey ride. They loved it! I'll be looking for a bike trailer on craigslist soon. Day # 5 found us hunkered in the house in the evening, watching the streets flood and the surf get closer and closer...almost too close for comfort. I managed to get in some shopping (major event for me as I detest shopping) at the tax-free outlets. I spent exactly $100.00 and the kids are set for fall and winter clothing. Go, me! Our last day (and check-out day) found us waking to a beautiful, sunny day. Go figure. So, rather than packing up and heading home immediately, we headed for the boardwalk and the kids rode the rides and we soaked up some rays as they played on the beach before heading home. Never have I been so happy to fall into my bed. We successfully avoided packing the entire house and, all-in-all, we had a wonderful trip.
Tuesday, September 1, 2009
Wednesday, August 19, 2009
Prayers/Positive Thoughts
The Fetters family could use all the prayers/positive thoughts/positive vibes they can get right now. Vicky is my best friend and this is her father....
http://www.abc2news.com/news/local/story/Police-Identify-Victim-in-Deadly-Hit-And-Run/y-fg7tDCWUSFPRzaQ-JuAg.cspx
http://www.abc2news.com/news/local/story/Police-Identify-Victim-in-Deadly-Hit-And-Run/y-fg7tDCWUSFPRzaQ-JuAg.cspx
Tuesday, August 4, 2009
(I think I'm screwed if she's already flipping me off.)
(Enjoying our Saturday morning at the farmers market.)
(Enjoying a milkshake after a long morning at the farmers market!)
(A rare, sweet moment between my angels.)
God has been good to us.
On a funny note, I had a dream that I had a wild affair with Gene Simmons from KISS. Go ahead. Laugh.
On a funnier note, I was sitting with Meghan a little while ago and she was grunting her little grunts (we all know what that means). I suddenly realized that the sensation of warmth that I felt running down my leg probably wasn't a good thing. Yeah. Not a good thing.
Saturday, July 25, 2009
Hello!
Busy, busy, busy! We've had a lot going on the last month or so and it seems like I never have a chance to sit down and update.
My youngest brother was here visiting from Oregon for two weeks. I can't believe he is 19 years old. It seems like just yesterday he was sitting in my lap drinking a bottle and we were hopping on the plane to move to Japan. He's a young man, now. While here, we took a trip to the zoo and National Aquarium where he witnessed just how difficult it can be to corral two 2.5 year olds while wearing a newborn. They did beautifully at the zoo but I do have to say that my daughter is a free spirited child. There is not a sense of fear in her and she has no time to listen to mommy.
Trying to get them to both look at the camera at the same time has proven to be a task greater than finding the Lochness Monster or Bigfoot.
The aquarium was so hot and so crowded. We got a ticket for the 1100 entrance time and the kids loved it! There was great excitement and they are still talking about how much fun they had. I'm going to attempt a trip during the week to the National Harbor Aquarium closer to us.
I wish I had more pictures to share but this camera that was given to us as a gift is horrible (Nikon CoolPix). I'm going to go dig out the broken camera (Kodak something-or-other) and just use that. I think we'll use part of our tax return and invest in a good camera.
We've been spending a great amount of time in the backyard now that we have a new patio set with umbrella and some flowers out there. In the next few weeks we'll be having the old fence replaced and it'll be much nicer.
We've also found our own little private park up the road and spend at least two or three mornings each week there. It's quiet, tucked away and there are picnic tables, a walking path and places to bbq. There is only ever one or two other kids there, but we are usually by ourselves. On one side there is a tot lot for the younger kids and the other side is for the bigger kids (mine consider themselves bigger kids, of course). We love it.
In other news, my brother got a dog! His wife finally allowed him the one thing he has wanted most of all for several years and the puppy is adorable.
Meghan is growing by leaps and bounds. The difference between her and the twins is astounding. I can only explain this by saying I am nursing her and she is very much a boob girl. She will not tolerate anyone else attempting to soothe her and that can wear on me after a particularly rough day. She has a wicked sense of humor just like her brother and sister did (and do). Her laughter is contagious.
I have to share with you a few finds that I simply love! The first has been a great one because it has helped us to prevent sticky spills and wasted apple juice. I must preface this by saying my kids do not drink much juice. It is for special occasions or the occasional birthday party. It has been a life saver, though.
The Juice Pal!
The next item is one that we're ordering this week. My kids love, love, love popcorn but will not leave the kernels alone. I'll let you know what I think of it.
The Kernel Katcher Popcorn Bowl!
My youngest brother was here visiting from Oregon for two weeks. I can't believe he is 19 years old. It seems like just yesterday he was sitting in my lap drinking a bottle and we were hopping on the plane to move to Japan. He's a young man, now. While here, we took a trip to the zoo and National Aquarium where he witnessed just how difficult it can be to corral two 2.5 year olds while wearing a newborn. They did beautifully at the zoo but I do have to say that my daughter is a free spirited child. There is not a sense of fear in her and she has no time to listen to mommy.
Trying to get them to both look at the camera at the same time has proven to be a task greater than finding the Lochness Monster or Bigfoot.
The aquarium was so hot and so crowded. We got a ticket for the 1100 entrance time and the kids loved it! There was great excitement and they are still talking about how much fun they had. I'm going to attempt a trip during the week to the National Harbor Aquarium closer to us.
I wish I had more pictures to share but this camera that was given to us as a gift is horrible (Nikon CoolPix). I'm going to go dig out the broken camera (Kodak something-or-other) and just use that. I think we'll use part of our tax return and invest in a good camera.
We've been spending a great amount of time in the backyard now that we have a new patio set with umbrella and some flowers out there. In the next few weeks we'll be having the old fence replaced and it'll be much nicer.
We've also found our own little private park up the road and spend at least two or three mornings each week there. It's quiet, tucked away and there are picnic tables, a walking path and places to bbq. There is only ever one or two other kids there, but we are usually by ourselves. On one side there is a tot lot for the younger kids and the other side is for the bigger kids (mine consider themselves bigger kids, of course). We love it.
In other news, my brother got a dog! His wife finally allowed him the one thing he has wanted most of all for several years and the puppy is adorable.
Meghan is growing by leaps and bounds. The difference between her and the twins is astounding. I can only explain this by saying I am nursing her and she is very much a boob girl. She will not tolerate anyone else attempting to soothe her and that can wear on me after a particularly rough day. She has a wicked sense of humor just like her brother and sister did (and do). Her laughter is contagious.
I have to share with you a few finds that I simply love! The first has been a great one because it has helped us to prevent sticky spills and wasted apple juice. I must preface this by saying my kids do not drink much juice. It is for special occasions or the occasional birthday party. It has been a life saver, though.
The Juice Pal!
The next item is one that we're ordering this week. My kids love, love, love popcorn but will not leave the kernels alone. I'll let you know what I think of it.
The Kernel Katcher Popcorn Bowl!
Tuesday, July 7, 2009
Monday, June 29, 2009
Blood. Everywhere.
This cannot be normal. My two year old son has deep scratches in his little cheeks. He has fingernail marks on his arms. My two year old daughter has a bruise on her cheek and a few on her head.
The fighting is out of control.
We're not talking about your normal sibling rivalry, anymore. I have to keep Figgy's fingernails trimmed every other day because she is scarring her brother. The Professor uses his cars and trucks as rocket propelled weapons on his sister. There is some sort of physical violence occurring in this house every single day and I don't know what to do about it anymore.
Today, the inevitable happened and I had the phone in hand to call 911.
They were fighting, as usual, and I was directing them to clean up toys so that we could go outside. My son started toward the side table to clean up his toys. Little Miss M was laying on the floor by the table with me laying next to her. As he started walking towards us, my daughter ran behind him and shoved him so hard that he nearly flew across the floor before smashing, face first, into the table. Gut wrenching screams echoed through the house. I lept to my feet and scooped my son up, realizing that he had also landed on the baby. With my son in one arm and the baby in the other, I ran to the kitchen to assess the damage. Blood was everywhere and it was oozing out of his mouth. My initial fear was that he had pushed a tooth up into his gum or even lost a tooth. I couldn't assess the damage, initially, because the blood was so dark and there was so much of it. Miss M eventually calmed down and I laid her in her car seat so that I could focus on The Professor. It took forever to stop the bleeding and I couldn't decide whether this warranted a 911 call. I should say this all happened in the span of about 10 seconds, though it felt like an eternity. In reality, I think I had the bleeding under control within three minutes and had put the phone down to focus on him. Once the bleeding was under control, I was able to pull his swollen lip up to see that his frenulum labii superioris (the flap of skin on the inside of the upper lip that attaches to the gum) was torn. His little lips were so swollen that he looked like a much thinner, younger and white version of Fat Albert.
I don't know what to do anymore, though, in all seriousness. The fighting is out of control and I really don't think it's normal.
The fighting is out of control.
We're not talking about your normal sibling rivalry, anymore. I have to keep Figgy's fingernails trimmed every other day because she is scarring her brother. The Professor uses his cars and trucks as rocket propelled weapons on his sister. There is some sort of physical violence occurring in this house every single day and I don't know what to do about it anymore.
Today, the inevitable happened and I had the phone in hand to call 911.
They were fighting, as usual, and I was directing them to clean up toys so that we could go outside. My son started toward the side table to clean up his toys. Little Miss M was laying on the floor by the table with me laying next to her. As he started walking towards us, my daughter ran behind him and shoved him so hard that he nearly flew across the floor before smashing, face first, into the table. Gut wrenching screams echoed through the house. I lept to my feet and scooped my son up, realizing that he had also landed on the baby. With my son in one arm and the baby in the other, I ran to the kitchen to assess the damage. Blood was everywhere and it was oozing out of his mouth. My initial fear was that he had pushed a tooth up into his gum or even lost a tooth. I couldn't assess the damage, initially, because the blood was so dark and there was so much of it. Miss M eventually calmed down and I laid her in her car seat so that I could focus on The Professor. It took forever to stop the bleeding and I couldn't decide whether this warranted a 911 call. I should say this all happened in the span of about 10 seconds, though it felt like an eternity. In reality, I think I had the bleeding under control within three minutes and had put the phone down to focus on him. Once the bleeding was under control, I was able to pull his swollen lip up to see that his frenulum labii superioris (the flap of skin on the inside of the upper lip that attaches to the gum) was torn. His little lips were so swollen that he looked like a much thinner, younger and white version of Fat Albert.
I don't know what to do anymore, though, in all seriousness. The fighting is out of control and I really don't think it's normal.
Friday, June 26, 2009
Two minutes...
So, the popular phrase in our house right now is, "two minutes, okay?". Two minutes for time-outs, two minutes for mommy to take a time-out, two minutes for a potty break, two minutes until we get there...(you get the point).
In return, we hear the same from the kids. Today, for example:
Mommy: "Okay, guys. We're leaving the playground in 5 minutes." (We had been there for 2.5 hours.)
Figgy: "No, mommy. Two minutes, okaaaaaaaay?"
We got home and it was nap time.
Mommy: "Okay, guys. Let's change diapers and head upstairs."
Figgy: "Mommy, I'm busy. Two minutes, okaaaaaaaaay?"
Tonight, at bath time, Jason was corralling the kids.
Daddy: "Okay guys, it's bath time. Let's go upstairs."
Ethan (who was sitting and reading a book): "No, daddy. I'm read[ing] book. Two minutes, okaaaaay?"
I love this phase. It's all about negotiation. :)
In return, we hear the same from the kids. Today, for example:
Mommy: "Okay, guys. We're leaving the playground in 5 minutes." (We had been there for 2.5 hours.)
Figgy: "No, mommy. Two minutes, okaaaaaaaay?"
We got home and it was nap time.
Mommy: "Okay, guys. Let's change diapers and head upstairs."
Figgy: "Mommy, I'm busy. Two minutes, okaaaaaaaaay?"
Tonight, at bath time, Jason was corralling the kids.
Daddy: "Okay guys, it's bath time. Let's go upstairs."
Ethan (who was sitting and reading a book): "No, daddy. I'm read[ing] book. Two minutes, okaaaaay?"
I love this phase. It's all about negotiation. :)
Saturday, June 20, 2009
Potty training and big kid beds.
Potty training sucks. Truly. I spent the entire day with Figgy trying, begging, cheering, leading by example...every 15 minutes I put her on the potty and do you know that little snot head peed in between sets? I left for an hour and a half to go to the grocery store, taking Miss Meghan with me so that Jason could focus on Figgy, and she peed while I was gone...but not in the potty. Not once today did she go in the big girl potty. The Professor? Yeah, well, he screamed and kicked because he wanted to go on the "big girl potty", too. Every time I put him on it? He screamed and arched his back and even hit me at one point.
You moms who are doing this potty thing make me jealous. Your kiddos seem to take to it like fish to water. This sucks!
We're struggling with sleep issues right now, too. Figgy has had a crib tent for a year now, I believe. She started climbing out of her crib just before 18 months and destroyed everything in her path. Hurricane Figgy. One of the dads from my local PoM's group sold us a crib tent for cheap and it saved our lives. Ethan never showed an interest in climbing out of his crib and I thanked my higher power for that. Well, sometime last week he decided he could get out of his crib on his own. Several weeks ago he started having serious sleep issues and would put himself into a full blown panic attack before bed. He quickly realized he could climb out of his crib to come find me and that's the end of the crib. In the last 48 hours, he has slept no more than a combined 14 hours. He will not nap. He climbs out of his crib and runs around his room. We put them to bed at 8:00 and he stays up (and keeps his sister up, in the process) until 10:30. He woke up earlier this week at 4:30 in the morning and would not go back to sleep. It's miserable. I'm miserable. All this time I've been of the mindset that I'd just shut the door and let him do his thing because, after all, he'll go to sleep when he's tired...right? Nope. So, I spend several hours (with Jason) going into their room and hollering at him to get back in his crib. Take off the crib rail to create the toddler bed and you get the same result. He will not stay put.
It's midnight and he's up. Meghan will be up in 20 minutes, or so. Mommy is going to lose her mind.
Thankfully, I found another crib tent for $30 and I'll be swiping that sucker up tomorrow morning. I know, I know...he's almost 2.5 years old and should be in a bed. Unfortunately, I need my sanity at this point more than he needs to be in a bed and we'll deal with the other stuff once I've got my wits about me (give me another three or four months, will ya?).
You moms who are doing this potty thing make me jealous. Your kiddos seem to take to it like fish to water. This sucks!
We're struggling with sleep issues right now, too. Figgy has had a crib tent for a year now, I believe. She started climbing out of her crib just before 18 months and destroyed everything in her path. Hurricane Figgy. One of the dads from my local PoM's group sold us a crib tent for cheap and it saved our lives. Ethan never showed an interest in climbing out of his crib and I thanked my higher power for that. Well, sometime last week he decided he could get out of his crib on his own. Several weeks ago he started having serious sleep issues and would put himself into a full blown panic attack before bed. He quickly realized he could climb out of his crib to come find me and that's the end of the crib. In the last 48 hours, he has slept no more than a combined 14 hours. He will not nap. He climbs out of his crib and runs around his room. We put them to bed at 8:00 and he stays up (and keeps his sister up, in the process) until 10:30. He woke up earlier this week at 4:30 in the morning and would not go back to sleep. It's miserable. I'm miserable. All this time I've been of the mindset that I'd just shut the door and let him do his thing because, after all, he'll go to sleep when he's tired...right? Nope. So, I spend several hours (with Jason) going into their room and hollering at him to get back in his crib. Take off the crib rail to create the toddler bed and you get the same result. He will not stay put.
It's midnight and he's up. Meghan will be up in 20 minutes, or so. Mommy is going to lose her mind.
Thankfully, I found another crib tent for $30 and I'll be swiping that sucker up tomorrow morning. I know, I know...he's almost 2.5 years old and should be in a bed. Unfortunately, I need my sanity at this point more than he needs to be in a bed and we'll deal with the other stuff once I've got my wits about me (give me another three or four months, will ya?).
Friday, June 12, 2009
Hell has frozen over. The Pittsburgh Penguins have won The Stanley Cup. Crosby has The Cup before Ovie. I am in shock. I've informed my husband that we will not be attending any games next season when we're playing them. On a normal day, a majority of Pens fans are rude, obnoxious and violent. After they've beat us in the playoffs and go on to win it all? Forget it. The last thing I need is to be carted off to jail because I've punched someone in the face at a hockey game. I'm passionate about my sport, what can I say?
On to a better subject, shall we?
We had the kids pictures taken last weekend. I had hoped for a great shot of all three kids for both my obstetrician and for our wall. This is all we got:
Ethan had the mother of all meltdowns in the studio. My preference would have been to have a location photographer come to us, but I can't find anyone here in the area that does that and doesn't charge the equivalent of a college tuition. Ellie cooperated for the most part, until the clothing change (we had another set of outfits for the 4th of July). These are the best shots we got and ended up purchasing:
A few other shots (not purchased, but on the disc we received for free)...
Such a lovely face! LOL!
The only way I can describe this is to say they look like aliens that have landed and are checking out the newest life form that they've discovered. LOL!
If only Ellie had smiled in this one... :(
On to a better subject, shall we?
We had the kids pictures taken last weekend. I had hoped for a great shot of all three kids for both my obstetrician and for our wall. This is all we got:
Ethan had the mother of all meltdowns in the studio. My preference would have been to have a location photographer come to us, but I can't find anyone here in the area that does that and doesn't charge the equivalent of a college tuition. Ellie cooperated for the most part, until the clothing change (we had another set of outfits for the 4th of July). These are the best shots we got and ended up purchasing:
A few other shots (not purchased, but on the disc we received for free)...
Such a lovely face! LOL!
The only way I can describe this is to say they look like aliens that have landed and are checking out the newest life form that they've discovered. LOL!
If only Ellie had smiled in this one... :(
Tuesday, June 2, 2009
Summer fun!
I have been having bittersweet moments with the twins as of late. On one hand, I'm so excited that we've reached this stage of independence. They don't need me to help them up the ladder at the park. They don't need me to stand at the bottom of the slide, arms outstretched to catch them as they come barreling down at full speed, head first. They sit on the steps when we come home to take off their shoes. They remember to put their cups on the table instead of throwing them on the floor. On the other hand, though, they don't need me to stand at the bottom of the slide...they don't need me to help them up the ladder... I know, I know...I have Meghan and she'll need all of this in no time. But, the E's were my first loves. They're the ones that consumed my heart for two years. They are my babies.
My babies are no longer babies, though. We're venturing into the land of potties and underwear. The Professor has begun announcing that he has to go potty, so we're going to start with him. I know the belief that boys are much harder than girls, but we're going to give it a go, anyway.
We've recently discovered our backyard. Sad, I know. But, you must understand that we live in a large townhouse and in order to get to the backyard, you must go through the basement. Granted, it's a finished basement, but it still creeps me out. It is still covered with the old dark paneling and none of these townhomes were insulated in the basements. So, you have the cinder blocks and firewall, covered by paneling. No drywall, no insulation, nothing. It's cold down there, even in the summer. The fence is falling apart and the neighbor has vines growing all over their side of the fence on the left, so the fence has rotted and has fallen down. We've propped it back up and rigged it as best we can, but it still looks terrible. The concrete slab that serves as a patio is crumbling and has cracked. For some reason, when these homes were built, the concrete was ATTACHED to the foundation of the house. So, as the foundation has settled over the last 30 years, the concrete has cracked and is now slanted down. When it rains, that whole patio is under water and there is moss all over the place. There are no flowers back there. Only a giant azalea bush and some hostas. I've been playing out front with the kids for several months and I hate it because they both run in different directions and I end up yelling because they don't listen. It's not fun for any of us. So, last weekend I went and picked up some outside toys and set up their Kangaroo climber and slide outside. They've got t-ball and other balls, trucks and a few other items. This weekend, I'm picking up a pool and some plants and flowers. We'll do the best we can to make it feel comfy out there for all of us. I enjoy it because I can leave Meghan sleeping in the living room and spend time outside with the kids. Even better? They can't go anywhere so I'm not yelling to come back! We're really enjoying each other lately and I've noticed a huge change in behavior now that we're outside all day.
Meghan is growing by leaps and bounds. I'm sure my MOM friends will have a hard time believing this, but she is 10x more difficult and demanding than the twins ever were. She only sleeps for 2 hours at a time and screams from 6:00pm until 8:00pm every single night. She is inconsolable for that two hour period. We get small moments of reprieve if we take her outside and walk around the cul-de-sac. If she is not being held, she is miserable. If she is not attached to my breast, she is miserable. Even if she's not hungry, she just wants to suck and fall asleep attached to me. I do get a two hour window in the morning from about 9 to 11 or 10 to 12. She'll sleep in her swing while I play outside with the twins. Logistically, it is a nightmare and I'm failing big time trying to get all three of us ready in the morning and get Jason to work. As a result, he is taking the car most days to work and we stay here. If I had a chance to plan this, I would have waited another few years before getting pregnant again. I can't believe I'm saying that, either, since we went through so much just to get pregnant with the twins. Never in a million years did I think I could get pregnant AND sustain a pregnancy on my own. Who knew?!? She is a beautiful baby, though, and has begun smiling and staying awake a little longer in between sleep stretches. I love having this opportunity, despite all the rest, to bond with a single baby. In that regard, it is SO much easier. It's a piece of cake getting one baby ready to go to the doctor, running errands, etc... Mom and I went out on Saturday to do some shopping and I took Meghan. I can't even begin to describe how much easier it was. And the bonding is much stronger with her. I mourn that opportunity with the twins.
I am an eternally blessed woman.
My babies are no longer babies, though. We're venturing into the land of potties and underwear. The Professor has begun announcing that he has to go potty, so we're going to start with him. I know the belief that boys are much harder than girls, but we're going to give it a go, anyway.
We've recently discovered our backyard. Sad, I know. But, you must understand that we live in a large townhouse and in order to get to the backyard, you must go through the basement. Granted, it's a finished basement, but it still creeps me out. It is still covered with the old dark paneling and none of these townhomes were insulated in the basements. So, you have the cinder blocks and firewall, covered by paneling. No drywall, no insulation, nothing. It's cold down there, even in the summer. The fence is falling apart and the neighbor has vines growing all over their side of the fence on the left, so the fence has rotted and has fallen down. We've propped it back up and rigged it as best we can, but it still looks terrible. The concrete slab that serves as a patio is crumbling and has cracked. For some reason, when these homes were built, the concrete was ATTACHED to the foundation of the house. So, as the foundation has settled over the last 30 years, the concrete has cracked and is now slanted down. When it rains, that whole patio is under water and there is moss all over the place. There are no flowers back there. Only a giant azalea bush and some hostas. I've been playing out front with the kids for several months and I hate it because they both run in different directions and I end up yelling because they don't listen. It's not fun for any of us. So, last weekend I went and picked up some outside toys and set up their Kangaroo climber and slide outside. They've got t-ball and other balls, trucks and a few other items. This weekend, I'm picking up a pool and some plants and flowers. We'll do the best we can to make it feel comfy out there for all of us. I enjoy it because I can leave Meghan sleeping in the living room and spend time outside with the kids. Even better? They can't go anywhere so I'm not yelling to come back! We're really enjoying each other lately and I've noticed a huge change in behavior now that we're outside all day.
Meghan is growing by leaps and bounds. I'm sure my MOM friends will have a hard time believing this, but she is 10x more difficult and demanding than the twins ever were. She only sleeps for 2 hours at a time and screams from 6:00pm until 8:00pm every single night. She is inconsolable for that two hour period. We get small moments of reprieve if we take her outside and walk around the cul-de-sac. If she is not being held, she is miserable. If she is not attached to my breast, she is miserable. Even if she's not hungry, she just wants to suck and fall asleep attached to me. I do get a two hour window in the morning from about 9 to 11 or 10 to 12. She'll sleep in her swing while I play outside with the twins. Logistically, it is a nightmare and I'm failing big time trying to get all three of us ready in the morning and get Jason to work. As a result, he is taking the car most days to work and we stay here. If I had a chance to plan this, I would have waited another few years before getting pregnant again. I can't believe I'm saying that, either, since we went through so much just to get pregnant with the twins. Never in a million years did I think I could get pregnant AND sustain a pregnancy on my own. Who knew?!? She is a beautiful baby, though, and has begun smiling and staying awake a little longer in between sleep stretches. I love having this opportunity, despite all the rest, to bond with a single baby. In that regard, it is SO much easier. It's a piece of cake getting one baby ready to go to the doctor, running errands, etc... Mom and I went out on Saturday to do some shopping and I took Meghan. I can't even begin to describe how much easier it was. And the bonding is much stronger with her. I mourn that opportunity with the twins.
I am an eternally blessed woman.
Tuesday, May 19, 2009
...
I had a whole book to write as an update, but I hear Meghan freaking out downstairs and know that Jason will be running up here with her in a second. So...here are some pictures until I have a moment. (HA!)
The obligatory Bayleigh and baby shot. She's such a good dog. We never had to use those stupid mittens with the twins, but I can't keep up with Meghan's nails!
Baby Meghan (aka: Gummie - Figgy's new nickname for her new sister.)
Figgy and The Professor before their cousin's 1st Holy Communion.
The Professor snuck away to eat his corn-on-the-cob in peace. We had a barbecue after Mikayla's 1st Communion this weekend and he kept stealing everyone's corn!
Mikayla and Figgy (with a friend of Mikayla's) had a good time on the trampoline.
The obligatory Bayleigh and baby shot. She's such a good dog. We never had to use those stupid mittens with the twins, but I can't keep up with Meghan's nails!
Baby Meghan (aka: Gummie - Figgy's new nickname for her new sister.)
Figgy and The Professor before their cousin's 1st Holy Communion.
The Professor snuck away to eat his corn-on-the-cob in peace. We had a barbecue after Mikayla's 1st Communion this weekend and he kept stealing everyone's corn!
Mikayla and Figgy (with a friend of Mikayla's) had a good time on the trampoline.
Sunday, May 10, 2009
Funnies
Two funnies from today and then I'm going to bed...
We were driving to pick up lunch today and a truck pulled out from a side road about 1/4 mile away. From the back of the car I hear Ethan scream, "WATCH OUT! TRUUUCK!"
Ellie's new favorite comment in the car (have I told you all this? I forget.) is: "C'MON, person, MOVE!" Gee...I wonder where she gets that from?
We were sitting outside this evening waiting for our table to be ready at dinner. The kids were running up and down the sidewalk and Ellie noticed a particularly striking young man with blond, curly hair. He must have been about 20 months old, maybe? She ran up to him and his mom and dad and let out a very enthusiastic, "HI!" before wrapping her arms around him and kissing him on the cheek. His very own personal welcoming committee... My husband was mortified and my mom and I could barely contain ourselves. We were laughing hysterically, right along with the little boy's mom.
We were driving to pick up lunch today and a truck pulled out from a side road about 1/4 mile away. From the back of the car I hear Ethan scream, "WATCH OUT! TRUUUCK!"
Ellie's new favorite comment in the car (have I told you all this? I forget.) is: "C'MON, person, MOVE!" Gee...I wonder where she gets that from?
We were sitting outside this evening waiting for our table to be ready at dinner. The kids were running up and down the sidewalk and Ellie noticed a particularly striking young man with blond, curly hair. He must have been about 20 months old, maybe? She ran up to him and his mom and dad and let out a very enthusiastic, "HI!" before wrapping her arms around him and kissing him on the cheek. His very own personal welcoming committee... My husband was mortified and my mom and I could barely contain ourselves. We were laughing hysterically, right along with the little boy's mom.
Saturday, May 9, 2009
If you're anything like me, you gave up that mommy purse for a much more practical diaper bag and are longing for that little bit of style back in your life. :)
Saturday, May 2, 2009
You know, I've spent my life questioning the idea of God. I was raised Catholic and felt that good old Catholic guilt for most of my childhood. I walked away from any idea of organized religion for many years because I felt abandoned by this God that everyone talked about. It wasn't until I met my husband and we decided we wanted to start a family that I began thinking about what sort of life I wanted to offer my family. We had just moved to a new apartment and there was a brand new Catholic church up the street. We figured we'd try it out, what did we have to lose?
The connection was immediate for me. The priest was a younger man and the congregation was fairly young, too. Lots of families with young children. We continued going and eventually registered as parishoners. We became active in the community and enjoyed our newly found relationships with the people in the parish. We were regular, contributing members for five years. Then, we had our twins. We continued attending Mass but, at some point along the way, had to stop contributing monetarily. We haven't contributed in two years. I should also say that our favorite priest stepped down as head of the parish and asked to be transferred to a smaller parish because he was feeling overwhelmed with the responsibilities of money collection and paying off the new mortgage for the church...
I called the parish office last week to arrange for Meghan's baptism because her Godmother was in town and I figured it would be the perfect time for us to do this. I was not prepared for what I was about to hear. Apparently, they keep a record of the registered members and how much they contribute, monetarily, to the parish. The woman on the phone informed me that we could not have Meghan baptized there. I asked why and she informed me that their records indicated we had not been parish members for two years. I informed her that she was incorrect, that we were regular members but had not contributed because of finances and moving. She was silent for a few moments and then asked where we moved to. I told her. Then, she responded with some deal about how our registration had faltered and that we'd have to re-register but that the new parish priest would not allow it. I asked why. She said that he did not allow young families with children that lived outside of parish boundaries to register because he didn't believe they'd remain active and actually show up for Mass.
I am speechless. It all comes down to money. It doesn't matter that we've been parishoners for well over 5 years, now.
I have to tell you that I am feeling greatly disenchanted with the Catholic faith and all things God right now. The last time I checked, Jesus didn't charge his followers for their baptisms. I've been feeling as though I've been forgotten, lately, and this just seals the deal. :(
The connection was immediate for me. The priest was a younger man and the congregation was fairly young, too. Lots of families with young children. We continued going and eventually registered as parishoners. We became active in the community and enjoyed our newly found relationships with the people in the parish. We were regular, contributing members for five years. Then, we had our twins. We continued attending Mass but, at some point along the way, had to stop contributing monetarily. We haven't contributed in two years. I should also say that our favorite priest stepped down as head of the parish and asked to be transferred to a smaller parish because he was feeling overwhelmed with the responsibilities of money collection and paying off the new mortgage for the church...
I called the parish office last week to arrange for Meghan's baptism because her Godmother was in town and I figured it would be the perfect time for us to do this. I was not prepared for what I was about to hear. Apparently, they keep a record of the registered members and how much they contribute, monetarily, to the parish. The woman on the phone informed me that we could not have Meghan baptized there. I asked why and she informed me that their records indicated we had not been parish members for two years. I informed her that she was incorrect, that we were regular members but had not contributed because of finances and moving. She was silent for a few moments and then asked where we moved to. I told her. Then, she responded with some deal about how our registration had faltered and that we'd have to re-register but that the new parish priest would not allow it. I asked why. She said that he did not allow young families with children that lived outside of parish boundaries to register because he didn't believe they'd remain active and actually show up for Mass.
I am speechless. It all comes down to money. It doesn't matter that we've been parishoners for well over 5 years, now.
I have to tell you that I am feeling greatly disenchanted with the Catholic faith and all things God right now. The last time I checked, Jesus didn't charge his followers for their baptisms. I've been feeling as though I've been forgotten, lately, and this just seals the deal. :(
Tuesday, April 28, 2009
I don't know why this is so hard for me to admit this time around, but I'm really struggling with this whole postpartum depression idea. I had it pretty badly with the twins and went to see my primary care provider early on. She's a mom of twins, as well, and knows all too well the individual issues we MoMs deal with that singleton moms never experience. I clearly remember breaking down in her office and begging her to help me. I was overwhelmed with extreme guilt because, after all, I had been to hell and back trying to have my kids. How could a woman who has spent her entire life only wanting to have children possibly feel the way I was feeling? We had sought out the medical community to have a child after a devastating loss and 12 years of being told I'd never have kids. We prayed with our priest. We made bargains with God. We promised. We begged. We cried. So, how is it after carrying those two precious babies in my body for so long, that I could actually feel the way I was feeling? Of course, I knew the answer. I'm a psychology major. I was premed. I know the logical answer to the question...but that was other women.
So, how is it that after two years of successfully raising twins, that I find myself back in this position? I knew what to expect. I planned it out, perfectly. I prepared myself and asked for help from friends and family so that I could avoid this.
Yet, here I am. Again.
I'm feeling hopeless. Agitated. Anxious. Angry. My thoughts are irrational. I can't sleep. I have moments of suicidal thoughts. I truly believe my family would be better off without me. Then...a moment of clairy takes over and I realize I'm being completely irrational.
My husband stayed home with me the first week. Bless his heart, he tried his best. Men just don't understand, and he's no exception. He tried, he really did. But, how can you possibly understand unless you've been there? So, my mom stayed home last week and I can't possibly begin to explain the relief I felt, instantly. I slept. I nursed. I enjoyed my two year olds because someone else was paying attention to them. My stepmom arrived on Saturday and I know she has the best of intentions, but she isn't being a world of help. It's nice to see her and to visit with her, but she came out here with the intention of helping and hasn't done that. She brought my aunt with her and they show up to the house around 11:00 in the morning. I've explained that I need help early in the morning, but apparently the traffic is just not ideal for them. So, rather than showing up to actually help me while I try and adjust and figure out a schedule and routine, they show up an hour before lunch and sit on the couch while I prepare lunch, feed the kids, change diapers, feed Meghan, and get them in bed. And then, of course, I feel the need to keep them company. So, instead of napping like I really should, I am sitting downstairs with them. Add to that the fact that she smokes like a chimney, I'm buiding big resentments because I don't want her holding Meghan while she reeks of smoke. As a result, I'm limiting her contact with the baby.
So, here I am. I'm 18 days postpartum and I'm exhausted and finding myself back in the same spot I was two years ago. I feel like I should be able to pull myself up by the bootstraps and move on. I feel like I should be ready to go and have everything figured out by now. After all, I've been doing this on my own everyday for two years.
I feel like a tremendous failure tonight.
So, how is it that after two years of successfully raising twins, that I find myself back in this position? I knew what to expect. I planned it out, perfectly. I prepared myself and asked for help from friends and family so that I could avoid this.
Yet, here I am. Again.
I'm feeling hopeless. Agitated. Anxious. Angry. My thoughts are irrational. I can't sleep. I have moments of suicidal thoughts. I truly believe my family would be better off without me. Then...a moment of clairy takes over and I realize I'm being completely irrational.
My husband stayed home with me the first week. Bless his heart, he tried his best. Men just don't understand, and he's no exception. He tried, he really did. But, how can you possibly understand unless you've been there? So, my mom stayed home last week and I can't possibly begin to explain the relief I felt, instantly. I slept. I nursed. I enjoyed my two year olds because someone else was paying attention to them. My stepmom arrived on Saturday and I know she has the best of intentions, but she isn't being a world of help. It's nice to see her and to visit with her, but she came out here with the intention of helping and hasn't done that. She brought my aunt with her and they show up to the house around 11:00 in the morning. I've explained that I need help early in the morning, but apparently the traffic is just not ideal for them. So, rather than showing up to actually help me while I try and adjust and figure out a schedule and routine, they show up an hour before lunch and sit on the couch while I prepare lunch, feed the kids, change diapers, feed Meghan, and get them in bed. And then, of course, I feel the need to keep them company. So, instead of napping like I really should, I am sitting downstairs with them. Add to that the fact that she smokes like a chimney, I'm buiding big resentments because I don't want her holding Meghan while she reeks of smoke. As a result, I'm limiting her contact with the baby.
So, here I am. I'm 18 days postpartum and I'm exhausted and finding myself back in the same spot I was two years ago. I feel like I should be able to pull myself up by the bootstraps and move on. I feel like I should be ready to go and have everything figured out by now. After all, I've been doing this on my own everyday for two years.
I feel like a tremendous failure tonight.
Thursday, April 16, 2009
Nearly a week, now.
Things are going beautifully here. I feel like I don't have much time to sit down and respond to e-mails, but I hope you understand. :)
Meghan is simply a marvelous baby. She's definitely a most demanding baby, more so than I remember either of the twins being, but it's okay. We are still dealing with Figgy and her mommy phase. I cannot keep her away from M. Not that I'm trying to, mind you, but let's remember that we're dealing with a 2 year old that doesn't realize she's being rougher than she should be. So, the hugs turn out to be squeezes. There is such a fascination with her when she sleeps and that seems to be the time when Figgy wants to be near her most. What we have always known is that we will not keep them apart and away from one another because I don't ever want any of them to feel like they're less important. Now that I'm feeling better, physically, I'm quite content with allowing Figgy on my lap while I'm holding Meghan or feeding her. Neither kids understand the concept of breastfeeding and are constantly bringing their sippy cups over with their milk in it. It's cute. The Professor is afraid of Meghan, I believe. He constantly talks about her, comes over and says hello, makes sure to tell me when she's crying and she is the first person he asks about when he wakes up. BUT...he will not touch her, hold her, kiss her, or sit on my lap while I'm holding her.
We have a weight check scheduled for tomorrow with a bili check as she was slightly jaundiced on Monday at her appointment. I think I mentioned that I simply love their pediatrician. She walked in and gave me a big hug and then sat and just held Meghan while we talked about the delivery and how the twins are handling having her here. She talked about possibly supplementing formula to get Meghan past the jaundice and could sense that I felt disappointed with that option as I really wanted to be successful with the breastfeeding this time around. So, she jumped back in with other options such as walking her outside in the sunlight (among a few other ideas). She called later that night (Monday) just to check in with us. We're really lucky to have such a great practice, especially after the disaster of a practice we were with for the twins' first 6 weeks.
The Professor and Figgy have reached a new phase. They are parroting everything we say. Every question is repeated. Every word is repeated. The Professor can count to 6 on his own while counting his cars. Figgy has finally taken to sitting still for a few minutes to play with something...anything. LOL! I'm just happy she will sit still for a moment. :)
I have always made sure they make eye contact with us when we are giving instructions or disciplining them. My phrase of choice has always been, "_________(Ethan/Ellie) look at me..." and then I will tell them what I need them to understand. This way, I know that they're not preoccupied by something else. Well, Ellie has decided this is her new catch phrase. Meghan was crying the other night and Ellie went up to her and said, "Meghan, look at me....SHHHHHH!" We were outside for a walk today and the kids were getting close to the creek at the bottom of the hill by our house. My husband was down with them, but I kept saying, "Hey, guys...be careful!" Ellie turned to me at some point and said, "Mommy. Look at me. Caaaareful!" My daughter has a sense of humor. Oh goody.
Well, that's it for me, folks. I've topped the kiddo off and tucked her in, so I think I'm going to go curl up and hope for a few hours of sleep. I've made my way upstairs, finally, and will try to sleep in my own bed with my husband. I've been sleeping downstairs in the living room with Meghan because it was too painful to sleep laying down. Let's see how this works!
Meghan is simply a marvelous baby. She's definitely a most demanding baby, more so than I remember either of the twins being, but it's okay. We are still dealing with Figgy and her mommy phase. I cannot keep her away from M. Not that I'm trying to, mind you, but let's remember that we're dealing with a 2 year old that doesn't realize she's being rougher than she should be. So, the hugs turn out to be squeezes. There is such a fascination with her when she sleeps and that seems to be the time when Figgy wants to be near her most. What we have always known is that we will not keep them apart and away from one another because I don't ever want any of them to feel like they're less important. Now that I'm feeling better, physically, I'm quite content with allowing Figgy on my lap while I'm holding Meghan or feeding her. Neither kids understand the concept of breastfeeding and are constantly bringing their sippy cups over with their milk in it. It's cute. The Professor is afraid of Meghan, I believe. He constantly talks about her, comes over and says hello, makes sure to tell me when she's crying and she is the first person he asks about when he wakes up. BUT...he will not touch her, hold her, kiss her, or sit on my lap while I'm holding her.
We have a weight check scheduled for tomorrow with a bili check as she was slightly jaundiced on Monday at her appointment. I think I mentioned that I simply love their pediatrician. She walked in and gave me a big hug and then sat and just held Meghan while we talked about the delivery and how the twins are handling having her here. She talked about possibly supplementing formula to get Meghan past the jaundice and could sense that I felt disappointed with that option as I really wanted to be successful with the breastfeeding this time around. So, she jumped back in with other options such as walking her outside in the sunlight (among a few other ideas). She called later that night (Monday) just to check in with us. We're really lucky to have such a great practice, especially after the disaster of a practice we were with for the twins' first 6 weeks.
The Professor and Figgy have reached a new phase. They are parroting everything we say. Every question is repeated. Every word is repeated. The Professor can count to 6 on his own while counting his cars. Figgy has finally taken to sitting still for a few minutes to play with something...anything. LOL! I'm just happy she will sit still for a moment. :)
I have always made sure they make eye contact with us when we are giving instructions or disciplining them. My phrase of choice has always been, "_________(Ethan/Ellie) look at me..." and then I will tell them what I need them to understand. This way, I know that they're not preoccupied by something else. Well, Ellie has decided this is her new catch phrase. Meghan was crying the other night and Ellie went up to her and said, "Meghan, look at me....SHHHHHH!" We were outside for a walk today and the kids were getting close to the creek at the bottom of the hill by our house. My husband was down with them, but I kept saying, "Hey, guys...be careful!" Ellie turned to me at some point and said, "Mommy. Look at me. Caaaareful!" My daughter has a sense of humor. Oh goody.
Well, that's it for me, folks. I've topped the kiddo off and tucked her in, so I think I'm going to go curl up and hope for a few hours of sleep. I've made my way upstairs, finally, and will try to sleep in my own bed with my husband. I've been sleeping downstairs in the living room with Meghan because it was too painful to sleep laying down. Let's see how this works!
Sunday, April 12, 2009
Baby Meghan is here!
Meghan? Where did that come from? We're not sure, either. :) I know we talked about it at one point in time, but it just wasn't one of our "that's it!" names.
I started with minor contractions last Monday (April 6) that were approximately 15 minutes apart, but not patterned. I had my peri appointment and then my ob appointment that day and my doc told me to call once they were patterned and a few minutes closer together. I spent the week feeling weird, not sure how else to describe it. Thursday, I was really off kilter and postponed my morning trip to Target with the kids after my appointment. The baby looked good that morning and the bpp was great. I went home and just took it easy the rest of the day. By afternoon, I had a deep desire to get my errands run and get the pantry stocked with snacks for the kids. Picked up my husband from work, along with my mom, and we ran to Target. Coming out of the store, I turned to my husband and said, "I think I either just involuntarily wet my pants or I'm leaking fluid." Either way, we knew dinner needed to be eaten so we headed over to Red Robin and got the kids something to eat. Midway through dinner, the contractions picked up hard and steady. Timing-wise, I was measuring 12 minutes, so we headed home and got everything taken care of. I climbed into the shower and wasn't sure if I should call my doc. I gave it another 24 minutes, then called her and she wanted me to come into l&d to be looked at. Once I got there, we all started chatting and they hooked me up to the monitors. After about 45 minutes of gabbing, the nurse checked on the contractions and wanted to know why I wasn't saying anything about them. Turns out, I wasn't feeling them. I was feeling the stuff that was off the chart, but not the basic ones that were measuring 4-6 minutes apart. LOL! Turns out my pain tolerance is higher than I originally thought it was. Between that, the slightly elevated blood pressure and the low-grade temp, it was decided we would go ahead and deliver. I was in the operating room within 30 minutes with my bp crashing and Jason being told to wait outside. Once that was controlled, he was allowed back in and the delivery began. All told, it took an extradoridary effort to get her out. She was so big and comfortable that they had to use a vaccum to get her out - during a c-section!
Megan was born shortly after 1:00am and weighed in at 9lbs. 6oz. and was 21" long. :)
We're home after talking my doc into letting us come home a day early (Sunday vs. Monday) and I'm feeling an unusual peace. This one newborn thing is a piece of cake, I must say. She is a nursing champ, which shocks me because it didn't work out with the twins. It's all a very new experience for me; for us. We're enjoying every moment of it and feel tremendously blessed tonight.
I started with minor contractions last Monday (April 6) that were approximately 15 minutes apart, but not patterned. I had my peri appointment and then my ob appointment that day and my doc told me to call once they were patterned and a few minutes closer together. I spent the week feeling weird, not sure how else to describe it. Thursday, I was really off kilter and postponed my morning trip to Target with the kids after my appointment. The baby looked good that morning and the bpp was great. I went home and just took it easy the rest of the day. By afternoon, I had a deep desire to get my errands run and get the pantry stocked with snacks for the kids. Picked up my husband from work, along with my mom, and we ran to Target. Coming out of the store, I turned to my husband and said, "I think I either just involuntarily wet my pants or I'm leaking fluid." Either way, we knew dinner needed to be eaten so we headed over to Red Robin and got the kids something to eat. Midway through dinner, the contractions picked up hard and steady. Timing-wise, I was measuring 12 minutes, so we headed home and got everything taken care of. I climbed into the shower and wasn't sure if I should call my doc. I gave it another 24 minutes, then called her and she wanted me to come into l&d to be looked at. Once I got there, we all started chatting and they hooked me up to the monitors. After about 45 minutes of gabbing, the nurse checked on the contractions and wanted to know why I wasn't saying anything about them. Turns out, I wasn't feeling them. I was feeling the stuff that was off the chart, but not the basic ones that were measuring 4-6 minutes apart. LOL! Turns out my pain tolerance is higher than I originally thought it was. Between that, the slightly elevated blood pressure and the low-grade temp, it was decided we would go ahead and deliver. I was in the operating room within 30 minutes with my bp crashing and Jason being told to wait outside. Once that was controlled, he was allowed back in and the delivery began. All told, it took an extradoridary effort to get her out. She was so big and comfortable that they had to use a vaccum to get her out - during a c-section!
Megan was born shortly after 1:00am and weighed in at 9lbs. 6oz. and was 21" long. :)
We're home after talking my doc into letting us come home a day early (Sunday vs. Monday) and I'm feeling an unusual peace. This one newborn thing is a piece of cake, I must say. She is a nursing champ, which shocks me because it didn't work out with the twins. It's all a very new experience for me; for us. We're enjoying every moment of it and feel tremendously blessed tonight.
Sunday, March 29, 2009
Quicky...
Thank God we didn't get our puppy because we needed/wanted a dog for protection. As you can see, she takes her guard duties very seriously. :) (This is how we find her 9 times out of 10 when we come downstairs in the morning.) I love her so much. She is as much a part of this family as the children are and I honestly believe she enriches our lives more than we could ever hope for without her.
Ellie has discovered (rediscovered, I should say) her ballerina tutu. I pulled it out of the closet and it has become part of her regular attire. Little man is currently obsessed with the play Dirt Devil vacuum that I purchased mid-year last season. They were having a grand time this afternoon and it was such a pleasant surprise to catch this shot.
No baby news. Docs are estimating (and re-measured five times on Thursday) our newest addition weighs in at 9 lbs. Highest estimates are 9.13. Lowest is 9.00. We all know how much stock I take in those measurements...But, I'm terrified that these estimates are going to sway my doctor's view of a VBAC. The specialist has said it is absolutely 100% impossible for me to have a VBAC. My thoughts on this are that these specialists are men who couldn't handle the challenges our bodies face in childbirth. I will fight for my VBAC.
Ellie has discovered (rediscovered, I should say) her ballerina tutu. I pulled it out of the closet and it has become part of her regular attire. Little man is currently obsessed with the play Dirt Devil vacuum that I purchased mid-year last season. They were having a grand time this afternoon and it was such a pleasant surprise to catch this shot.
No baby news. Docs are estimating (and re-measured five times on Thursday) our newest addition weighs in at 9 lbs. Highest estimates are 9.13. Lowest is 9.00. We all know how much stock I take in those measurements...But, I'm terrified that these estimates are going to sway my doctor's view of a VBAC. The specialist has said it is absolutely 100% impossible for me to have a VBAC. My thoughts on this are that these specialists are men who couldn't handle the challenges our bodies face in childbirth. I will fight for my VBAC.
Tuesday, March 24, 2009
Time flies!
Where has the time gone? I tell ya, we have been so busy around here getting ready for the newest addition.
The kids are doing marvelously. They continue to push boundaries and question everything. Elizabeth is a smaller version of me when I was 17. My mom tells me I was more like Ethan as a child in the sense that I was very laid back, quick to learn, and listened well (for the most part). Elizabeth is what I eventually became in high school when I learned that I had a voice and liked to use it. LOL! She does not have the time to sit still for anything, other than a quick book, which she really does thoroughly enjoy. As a result, she's not one to sit and learn while mommy points out the words or colors. Ethan has mastered his colors and tells you the color of everything around him. Elizabeth has mastered pink and black, but that's about all she wants to talk about. Ethan can spell TRUCKS and TOES from memory. He does this thing that I'm convinced is "picking" through the alphabet in his head. I'm not sure how else to explain it, but if you ask him to spell one of those two words, he will begin as normal...
"T" no, no, hmmm, no... "R" "U" no, no... "C" no, no, no, hmmm... *pause* "K" "S". Then, he turns to you and very excitedly chirps, "TRUCKS!" It really is as if he's picking out the letters, or if his brain is sending him the letters and he recognizes that it's not the right one. Very strange.
Ellie has taken to wearing her ballet tutu around the house. I picked one up on etsy.com shortly before her first birthday and she wore it for Valentine's Day pictures (2008). As I was cleaning out their closet last week, I found it and took it downstairs for them to play with. Now, she wears it all the time and even out to dinner the other night. LOL! She is our dancer and singer and will stop everything to sing you a song if you ask.
Both have been uber snuggly as of late and I am savoring every moment of it. Whenever we're near the hospital, they both chime up, "Mommy! Doctor, see baby?" They're so accustomed to my twice a week appointments that even if we're just going to Target (next to the hospital), we must be going to see the new baby. They have been phenomenal through this entire process and I couldn't be happier with their progress. I am confident that we will have no transition issues when we bring the newest addition home in a few weeks.
Nothing new on that front, other than the toxemia scare. I went in for my regular appointment last Thursday and the specialist sent me across the street to see my regular ob, who sent me straight to l&d for several hours. It's funny to me how the male specialist jumps to conclusions and is quick to ignore me. My ob was fuming when she finally got up to the ward and realized just *why* the specialist sent me in. You see, I have a long history of intense heartburn in pregnancy. I have to take a higher prescription for it than normal in the last trimester. It's normal - FOR ME. After the twins were born, they were confident that the problem was my gallbladder. Unfortunately, that wasn't the issue since they took that out during emergency surgery two weeks after the twins were born. Add to that the headache that I had for three days and the fact that my bp was (to him) higher than normal, all signs pointed to toxemia apparently. Well, let's break it all apart and take a closer look. The heartburn we've talked about. It's normal for me. The headache? Stress and sinus related, I'm sure. BP? It was only 130/80. My normal bp (and this has been consistent throughout the pregnancy) is 116-118/60-68. So, while slightly elevated, it was really not a reason to freak out. I spent all morning in l&d hooked up to monitors, unable to drink anything because they were sure I was going to be induced. Ugh.
I had a follow-up appointment yesterday and my cervix is soft, yet firmly closed. I have another ultrasound on Thursday to measure the baby. If they're right, then we're looking at an estimate of about 8.5 pounds. Like I've said to many of you, I take no stock in those measurements as they're notoriously off. It's a nice guess and a party conversation, at best. We shall see, though, what the specialist jumps to do. We're all operating under the guess that *someone* will insist on inducing next week. It's a good thing nesting kicked in last weekend and I'm just about finished with everything that needs to be done! I can't find my receiving blankets from the twins, so I'll go out tomorrow and pick up a few new ones. Otherwise, I've divided all of the baby clothes. We have five big bins from Target. One is a "gender neutral" bin of newborn clothes. We have girl clothes separated into 0-9 months and 12+ months. The same with boy clothes. Then, which ever baby this is *not*, we can sell those clothes or donate them.
I know there is more that I wanted to talk about, but I'm exhausted and my fingers are killing me. I'm going to go curl up in bed for the night.
I send my love to all and hope that everyone is well!
The kids are doing marvelously. They continue to push boundaries and question everything. Elizabeth is a smaller version of me when I was 17. My mom tells me I was more like Ethan as a child in the sense that I was very laid back, quick to learn, and listened well (for the most part). Elizabeth is what I eventually became in high school when I learned that I had a voice and liked to use it. LOL! She does not have the time to sit still for anything, other than a quick book, which she really does thoroughly enjoy. As a result, she's not one to sit and learn while mommy points out the words or colors. Ethan has mastered his colors and tells you the color of everything around him. Elizabeth has mastered pink and black, but that's about all she wants to talk about. Ethan can spell TRUCKS and TOES from memory. He does this thing that I'm convinced is "picking" through the alphabet in his head. I'm not sure how else to explain it, but if you ask him to spell one of those two words, he will begin as normal...
"T" no, no, hmmm, no... "R" "U" no, no... "C" no, no, no, hmmm... *pause* "K" "S". Then, he turns to you and very excitedly chirps, "TRUCKS!" It really is as if he's picking out the letters, or if his brain is sending him the letters and he recognizes that it's not the right one. Very strange.
Ellie has taken to wearing her ballet tutu around the house. I picked one up on etsy.com shortly before her first birthday and she wore it for Valentine's Day pictures (2008). As I was cleaning out their closet last week, I found it and took it downstairs for them to play with. Now, she wears it all the time and even out to dinner the other night. LOL! She is our dancer and singer and will stop everything to sing you a song if you ask.
Both have been uber snuggly as of late and I am savoring every moment of it. Whenever we're near the hospital, they both chime up, "Mommy! Doctor, see baby?" They're so accustomed to my twice a week appointments that even if we're just going to Target (next to the hospital), we must be going to see the new baby. They have been phenomenal through this entire process and I couldn't be happier with their progress. I am confident that we will have no transition issues when we bring the newest addition home in a few weeks.
Nothing new on that front, other than the toxemia scare. I went in for my regular appointment last Thursday and the specialist sent me across the street to see my regular ob, who sent me straight to l&d for several hours. It's funny to me how the male specialist jumps to conclusions and is quick to ignore me. My ob was fuming when she finally got up to the ward and realized just *why* the specialist sent me in. You see, I have a long history of intense heartburn in pregnancy. I have to take a higher prescription for it than normal in the last trimester. It's normal - FOR ME. After the twins were born, they were confident that the problem was my gallbladder. Unfortunately, that wasn't the issue since they took that out during emergency surgery two weeks after the twins were born. Add to that the headache that I had for three days and the fact that my bp was (to him) higher than normal, all signs pointed to toxemia apparently. Well, let's break it all apart and take a closer look. The heartburn we've talked about. It's normal for me. The headache? Stress and sinus related, I'm sure. BP? It was only 130/80. My normal bp (and this has been consistent throughout the pregnancy) is 116-118/60-68. So, while slightly elevated, it was really not a reason to freak out. I spent all morning in l&d hooked up to monitors, unable to drink anything because they were sure I was going to be induced. Ugh.
I had a follow-up appointment yesterday and my cervix is soft, yet firmly closed. I have another ultrasound on Thursday to measure the baby. If they're right, then we're looking at an estimate of about 8.5 pounds. Like I've said to many of you, I take no stock in those measurements as they're notoriously off. It's a nice guess and a party conversation, at best. We shall see, though, what the specialist jumps to do. We're all operating under the guess that *someone* will insist on inducing next week. It's a good thing nesting kicked in last weekend and I'm just about finished with everything that needs to be done! I can't find my receiving blankets from the twins, so I'll go out tomorrow and pick up a few new ones. Otherwise, I've divided all of the baby clothes. We have five big bins from Target. One is a "gender neutral" bin of newborn clothes. We have girl clothes separated into 0-9 months and 12+ months. The same with boy clothes. Then, which ever baby this is *not*, we can sell those clothes or donate them.
I know there is more that I wanted to talk about, but I'm exhausted and my fingers are killing me. I'm going to go curl up in bed for the night.
I send my love to all and hope that everyone is well!
Sunday, March 8, 2009
I'm sitting here trying to think of something to report. The dog is staring at me. She has taken to watching every little move I make, as if I'm going to go into labor at any moment. She did this when I was pregnant with the twins...at about the 34 week mark. She's such a momma dog.
The kids are good. We're really having some issues with Figgy and her behavior, but rather than elaborate on the bad, I'll choose the good. She's so smart. Her vocabulary is booming and she lights up the room when she runs (because, let's face it, the child never walks anywhere) in. Her eyes sparkle with a shine unlike anything I've ever seen. She worships the ground her brother walks on and I love to watch them together. She imitates him a lot of the time, too, which is interesting. The Professor has learned his colors. Blue. Green. Red. Pink. Black. Figgy has absolutely no interest in learning anything other than pink. She'll catch on, eventually. They have been wrestling so much lately that we're almost positive they're secretly planning on trying out as the WWE's next tag team. You very rarely hear any complaining from one of them when they're doing this. In fact, there is a laughter unlike anything we've ever heard.
We've been super busy with preparations lately. We're trying to get our bedroom in some sort of shape to manage a pack-n-play in this space. My brother and his family came over yesterday for my birthday and we all went out to dinner. When we came home, he and Jason moved the large entertainment center out of our bedroom and into the basement. The next step is to vaccum the heck out of the space that the ec was in. Do you have any idea how large the dust bunnies are?!?! Oy. The next step is to move the bed and change the fabric on the headboard, then put the rest of the furniture into place. I built our headboard a few years ago and we change the fabric on it to suit our moods. The latest is a sea green color, meant to be soothing. I have to go through the last of the baby clothes and get two more containers to separate them into. Since we know the gender of this baby (still pissed about this), I'll keep the girl clothes close but not get rid of the boy stuff just yet. I'm holding out hope that the tech really does just call all babies "she/her". I'll be overjoyed if this baby is, indeed, a girl. But, the thought that the surprise has been ruined just devastates me.
I'm still having twice weekly ultrasounds (Monday/Thursday) with the specialist. We had a particularly bad visit last Thursday that left me hysterical and nearly unconsolable. My blood sugars spiked, again, in the early morning hours for a period of three days. The scan itself took nearly an hour and then the doctor came in and poked around for a few minutes. He asked me to meet him in the other exam room because we needed to talk. On the way to the exam room, he asked that I leave a urine sample. When I got in the room, he started poking around on my legs and ankles, asking about swelling. I assured him there was no swelling (and he found the same). He was certain my blood pressure must be through the roof. Nope. 118/68. At this point, I'm thinking he's hinting at pre-eclampsia. Then, he gets back to my blood sugars and I tell him that I was thinking it could be the Tums that I'm overdosing on. The Zantac isn't working and I'm waking up at 2:00 and 4:00 throwing up, essentially, a fire ball. So, I wondered if the spike had something to do with the Tums that I'm taking in the middle of the night. "Could be. Get sugar-free." But, then, he jumps to the fact that I shouldn't be having such bad heartburn at this point in the pregnancy and there is concern about the nausea and vomitting. Okay. Let's backtrack for a second to the twin pregnancy. I threw up every single day of that pregnancy, save for a few weeks, until the day I delivered. I even came close to throwing up on the table that morning. So, it's normal for me to be sick like that. I also had fireballs from heartburn until the very end. To me, this is normal pregnancy stuff. To him? No. His answer? "I think your liver is malfunctioning and I want you to get a panel of bloodwork done." That's it. Nothing more. No elaboration? He doesn't have time to talk. He never does. He hands me the labwork with two boxes checked off: one of them is under organ disease and is called hepatic liver.
To top all of this off? The tech was teasing me about how big the baby is and called her a "gordita." I shrugged it off while in the room, until I looked at the picture she gave me and noticed she typed it into the picture! So, I have this sweet headshot of my daughter with a note that says, "Gordita."
*sobs*
My poor husband has never seen me so upset before. The kids were trying so hard to cheer me up in the car. I dropped Jason off at work and the next thing I know, my mom is trying to get a hold of me. You see, my husband and mom work for the same company so he stopped by her desk on the way up to his and told her about the visit. My mom NEVER gets involved in anything, but ended up sending an e-mail to the doctor.
I'm going to see my ob next week and will ask her for a referral to a different specialist. I shouldn't have to go through this at the end of this pregnancy. I've shrugged off everything else, but this really was the breaking point for me. I only have 6 weeks (if that) left. They keep telling me the baby is way too big at this point (6 pounds 11 ounces - ESTIMATED). I keep telling them (the specialist) that they're wrong about the due date and that I don't have any faith in their measurements because they were so off with the twins. They tell me they can't possibly be wrong about the date because it was based on fetal measurements at 6 weeks. I tell them they're absolutely wrong because the date of conception that corresponds to their due date is physically impossible. There's no way I conceived when they say I did. I'll be in the history books if that's true.
So, that's it from our little neck of the woods. The kids are thriving and I feel like I'm doing *something* right in that regard. I seem to suck at being able to carry a singleton pregnancy. What else is new, though? I suck at almost everything I attempt.
The kids are good. We're really having some issues with Figgy and her behavior, but rather than elaborate on the bad, I'll choose the good. She's so smart. Her vocabulary is booming and she lights up the room when she runs (because, let's face it, the child never walks anywhere) in. Her eyes sparkle with a shine unlike anything I've ever seen. She worships the ground her brother walks on and I love to watch them together. She imitates him a lot of the time, too, which is interesting. The Professor has learned his colors. Blue. Green. Red. Pink. Black. Figgy has absolutely no interest in learning anything other than pink. She'll catch on, eventually. They have been wrestling so much lately that we're almost positive they're secretly planning on trying out as the WWE's next tag team. You very rarely hear any complaining from one of them when they're doing this. In fact, there is a laughter unlike anything we've ever heard.
We've been super busy with preparations lately. We're trying to get our bedroom in some sort of shape to manage a pack-n-play in this space. My brother and his family came over yesterday for my birthday and we all went out to dinner. When we came home, he and Jason moved the large entertainment center out of our bedroom and into the basement. The next step is to vaccum the heck out of the space that the ec was in. Do you have any idea how large the dust bunnies are?!?! Oy. The next step is to move the bed and change the fabric on the headboard, then put the rest of the furniture into place. I built our headboard a few years ago and we change the fabric on it to suit our moods. The latest is a sea green color, meant to be soothing. I have to go through the last of the baby clothes and get two more containers to separate them into. Since we know the gender of this baby (still pissed about this), I'll keep the girl clothes close but not get rid of the boy stuff just yet. I'm holding out hope that the tech really does just call all babies "she/her". I'll be overjoyed if this baby is, indeed, a girl. But, the thought that the surprise has been ruined just devastates me.
I'm still having twice weekly ultrasounds (Monday/Thursday) with the specialist. We had a particularly bad visit last Thursday that left me hysterical and nearly unconsolable. My blood sugars spiked, again, in the early morning hours for a period of three days. The scan itself took nearly an hour and then the doctor came in and poked around for a few minutes. He asked me to meet him in the other exam room because we needed to talk. On the way to the exam room, he asked that I leave a urine sample. When I got in the room, he started poking around on my legs and ankles, asking about swelling. I assured him there was no swelling (and he found the same). He was certain my blood pressure must be through the roof. Nope. 118/68. At this point, I'm thinking he's hinting at pre-eclampsia. Then, he gets back to my blood sugars and I tell him that I was thinking it could be the Tums that I'm overdosing on. The Zantac isn't working and I'm waking up at 2:00 and 4:00 throwing up, essentially, a fire ball. So, I wondered if the spike had something to do with the Tums that I'm taking in the middle of the night. "Could be. Get sugar-free." But, then, he jumps to the fact that I shouldn't be having such bad heartburn at this point in the pregnancy and there is concern about the nausea and vomitting. Okay. Let's backtrack for a second to the twin pregnancy. I threw up every single day of that pregnancy, save for a few weeks, until the day I delivered. I even came close to throwing up on the table that morning. So, it's normal for me to be sick like that. I also had fireballs from heartburn until the very end. To me, this is normal pregnancy stuff. To him? No. His answer? "I think your liver is malfunctioning and I want you to get a panel of bloodwork done." That's it. Nothing more. No elaboration? He doesn't have time to talk. He never does. He hands me the labwork with two boxes checked off: one of them is under organ disease and is called hepatic liver.
To top all of this off? The tech was teasing me about how big the baby is and called her a "gordita." I shrugged it off while in the room, until I looked at the picture she gave me and noticed she typed it into the picture! So, I have this sweet headshot of my daughter with a note that says, "Gordita."
*sobs*
My poor husband has never seen me so upset before. The kids were trying so hard to cheer me up in the car. I dropped Jason off at work and the next thing I know, my mom is trying to get a hold of me. You see, my husband and mom work for the same company so he stopped by her desk on the way up to his and told her about the visit. My mom NEVER gets involved in anything, but ended up sending an e-mail to the doctor.
I'm going to see my ob next week and will ask her for a referral to a different specialist. I shouldn't have to go through this at the end of this pregnancy. I've shrugged off everything else, but this really was the breaking point for me. I only have 6 weeks (if that) left. They keep telling me the baby is way too big at this point (6 pounds 11 ounces - ESTIMATED). I keep telling them (the specialist) that they're wrong about the due date and that I don't have any faith in their measurements because they were so off with the twins. They tell me they can't possibly be wrong about the date because it was based on fetal measurements at 6 weeks. I tell them they're absolutely wrong because the date of conception that corresponds to their due date is physically impossible. There's no way I conceived when they say I did. I'll be in the history books if that's true.
So, that's it from our little neck of the woods. The kids are thriving and I feel like I'm doing *something* right in that regard. I seem to suck at being able to carry a singleton pregnancy. What else is new, though? I suck at almost everything I attempt.
Sunday, March 1, 2009
Monday, February 23, 2009
Our first video...
LOL! Okay, let me first explain this. Ethan has this facial expression that he makes when he's upset. He rolls his eyes into the back of his head and puts his little hand up to his forehead, like, "Are you kidding me?!?!" He's suuuuuuuuuper dramatic about it.
Tonight, neither kiddo was interested in eating dinner. In our house the rule is very simple and clear. Mommy makes dinner. One dinner. Everyone eats it...or doesn't eat it. Either way, it's the only thing being made until you can make it yourself. Harsh? Maybe. But, the reality is I don't have the time or desire to make several meals.
So, Ethan proceeded to do his little silent tantrum.
Enjoy! :p
Tonight, neither kiddo was interested in eating dinner. In our house the rule is very simple and clear. Mommy makes dinner. One dinner. Everyone eats it...or doesn't eat it. Either way, it's the only thing being made until you can make it yourself. Harsh? Maybe. But, the reality is I don't have the time or desire to make several meals.
So, Ethan proceeded to do his little silent tantrum.
Enjoy! :p
Sunday, February 22, 2009
These are the moments...
Figgy had a bad spill this evening as she came tearing across the living room with the dog following closely behind. She smacked her head against the play fort and really let out a wail. I jumped up (as quickly as I possibly can these days) and grabbed her to comfort her. As I curled up on the couch, the Professor (who was across the room, playing with his cars) jumped up and started yelling, "Sissy! Sissy, oh noooo!" She was sobbing that sad little sob where they gasp for air. He was trying so hard to comfort her and make her laugh, but nothing was working. So, he leaned in and kissed her on the nose, put his head on her shoulder, and rubbed her back with mommy.
These are the moments that make it all worthwhile.
These are the moments that make it all worthwhile.
Thursday, February 19, 2009
A rare moment in time.
I feel like I've captured a shot of Bigfoot or The Loch Ness Monster!
We had a very early appointment today with the perinatologist, so that meant everyone was up before the sun. I quietly went into the kids' bedroom and couldn't resist running back out to grab the camera. I NEVER get to see Figgy this sweet. ;)
She loves that Panda that she's curled up with. When she's put in her crib at night, or in the afternoon for nap, she lays on the Panda's back and then wraps her arms and legs around it. I find it rather sweet to know that she snuggles with it like she does. (The white fabric you see is part of her crib tent.) If you look closely, you'll also notice Ethan's crib is right next to her crib. He will not sleep unless he can reach out and touch her. Before she was climbing out of her crib, we had the cribs together and both drop sides down so that they could sleep together. He was having horrible nightmares and this was the only solution. Once she started climbing out, we had to put a crib tent on and it took Ethan a while to get used to that. Now he is content with the idea that he can still touch her if he needs to and to know that she is right there.
As far as The Professor goes, I'm shocked we found him on his tummy. He is, typically, a back sleeper and will have one blankie in his left hand, one in his right hand, and another one by his head. You'll notice there are three blankies in his crib (two that are partially under his tummy and the one in the corner). I had to tie one blankie to the slats in his crib because he would toss it out in the middle of the night and then cry for it. You'll also notice the zebra and giraffe that are on the floor near his head. Those start out in his crib, every single night and at nap. He MUST have them in his crib or he loses his mind. Within five minutes of closing the door, they are thrown out and remain on the floor until the morning. I'm not sure what that's all about. :)
When I brought them downstairs to get them dressed (our normal routine), Figgy went to one of the chairs and The Professor found his "living room" blankie in the corner, where he proceeded to curl up on the floor and go back to sleep. I went over to him and tried to wake him up to get dressed. His response was a very sleepy, "Momma. It's dark."
Needless to say, Figgy got dressed first, this morning.
We had a very early appointment today with the perinatologist, so that meant everyone was up before the sun. I quietly went into the kids' bedroom and couldn't resist running back out to grab the camera. I NEVER get to see Figgy this sweet. ;)
She loves that Panda that she's curled up with. When she's put in her crib at night, or in the afternoon for nap, she lays on the Panda's back and then wraps her arms and legs around it. I find it rather sweet to know that she snuggles with it like she does. (The white fabric you see is part of her crib tent.) If you look closely, you'll also notice Ethan's crib is right next to her crib. He will not sleep unless he can reach out and touch her. Before she was climbing out of her crib, we had the cribs together and both drop sides down so that they could sleep together. He was having horrible nightmares and this was the only solution. Once she started climbing out, we had to put a crib tent on and it took Ethan a while to get used to that. Now he is content with the idea that he can still touch her if he needs to and to know that she is right there.
As far as The Professor goes, I'm shocked we found him on his tummy. He is, typically, a back sleeper and will have one blankie in his left hand, one in his right hand, and another one by his head. You'll notice there are three blankies in his crib (two that are partially under his tummy and the one in the corner). I had to tie one blankie to the slats in his crib because he would toss it out in the middle of the night and then cry for it. You'll also notice the zebra and giraffe that are on the floor near his head. Those start out in his crib, every single night and at nap. He MUST have them in his crib or he loses his mind. Within five minutes of closing the door, they are thrown out and remain on the floor until the morning. I'm not sure what that's all about. :)
When I brought them downstairs to get them dressed (our normal routine), Figgy went to one of the chairs and The Professor found his "living room" blankie in the corner, where he proceeded to curl up on the floor and go back to sleep. I went over to him and tried to wake him up to get dressed. His response was a very sleepy, "Momma. It's dark."
Needless to say, Figgy got dressed first, this morning.
Wednesday, February 18, 2009
One of those experiences...
The internet is a strange, strange place. I have developed friendships with people I have never met. I gather a great deal of strength from some of these women and in a lot of ways, that sucks because I know they'd rather not have to deal with the tragedy that they do. Who wants to be "that person" who gives someone else a great deal of strength and purpose at the hands of losing/almost losing their child? I know these women would gladly trade places in a heartbeat.
Thanks to a few of these women, I know more than anyone would ever want to know about PHACES, Chiari malformation, Neuroblastoma and a few other rare issues. It is because of their struggles that I am a stronger woman, a more determined mother and an advocate for what is best for my babies.
Thanks to a few of these women, I know more than anyone would ever want to know about PHACES, Chiari malformation, Neuroblastoma and a few other rare issues. It is because of their struggles that I am a stronger woman, a more determined mother and an advocate for what is best for my babies.
Tuesday, February 17, 2009
New bikes
Clearly my children get their sense of humor from my mother. LOL! The kids have been in rare form lately and tonight, as we were announcing bed time and Jason told Ethan to get off of his new bike, Ethan looked at him, waved, and said, "bye-bye sucker!"
I think I nearly peed my pants; I haven't laughed that hard in so long.
I also picked up new bikes for the kids this weekend. I've only managed to put one together (now I know why Santa drinks so much on Christmas Eve) because I don't have a PhD in "toy assembly". Anyway, they love it and I'm quite certain they'll be whizzing around by the time summer arrives. We'll practice every Thursday at our community center where they have open "ride-on" play for kids under 4.
The bike...
I think I nearly peed my pants; I haven't laughed that hard in so long.
I also picked up new bikes for the kids this weekend. I've only managed to put one together (now I know why Santa drinks so much on Christmas Eve) because I don't have a PhD in "toy assembly". Anyway, they love it and I'm quite certain they'll be whizzing around by the time summer arrives. We'll practice every Thursday at our community center where they have open "ride-on" play for kids under 4.
The bike...
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