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.

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!

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.

Sunday, Sunday.

This was the only peaceful, smiling moment of the day. That is all.

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

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.

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.

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.

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...

Darn all of you who actually plan and follow through!

;)

So, the woman who makes me laugh decided to purge this weekend. Not only did she decide, but she actually had the audacity to follow through with it. As I look around me, I am reminded that I've been saying the same dang thing for several months, now. Gone are the days of throwing up for hours on end and not having enough energy to blink, let alone clean. So, what is my excuse? Procrastination, perhaps? Lack of energy? Lack of desire, maybe? Nope. It is sheer laziness and I am the queen.

We have to get this stuff done before the new little one arrives. It is all in the master bedroom, which will be where this baby sleeps for the first six months or so (until scheduling is mastered).

Dismantle entertainment center and take it to basement.
Find a place for husband's 500-piece DVD collection.
Remove makeshift desk and try setting back up the laptop.
Find a better spot for craft supplies.
Move shelves to basment.
Suction summer clothes into those handy vacuum bags before summer is actually here.
Remove 1/3 of closet clothes and put them in bags for AmVets next week.

So, why do I tell you all this? It is because I need to be held accountable and I think this might help me knowing I've shared my secret with you all.

Sunday

Bought a new car. Minivan.

If I step back and think about all of those hopes and dreams I had back in high school, driving a minivan was so not one of them.

Be a mom. Check.
Be a wife. Check.
Be a friend. Check.
Love completely. Check.
Be a good daughter. Check.
College degree. Check. (One of the top 5 biggest mistakes of my life, by the way.)

Nope. Driving a minivan wasn't on that list.

Busy day tomorrow...my twice weekly ultrasounds are still priority. After that, I have to run to E&E's doctor to get E's test results so that I have them for the specialist on Wednesday. Then, I have to run to the hospital to get the scans from his tests. Somewhere in there I have to be a mom and keep the kids fed and entertained. Oh, and clean the house and make dinner. Jason is sick, which never happens. He has an immune system like Fort Knox. Me? I pick up every living organism and it invades my body like the freaking plague; especially when I'm pregnant. My friend Kristy, the immunologist, has an explanation for that and it makes sense.

Taxes are coming, soon. With our refund, we'll be able to pay and close one credit card (leaving only one open), our line-of credit, my dentist bill and a small chunk to the bill leftover from the twins.

$2000 down, $175k more to go.

Friday night

So, yesterday evening we ran over to the mall to pick up new shoes for Figgy. She's finally able to start wearing regular shoes (we still have to follow-up every few months for her hip issue and the feet) and we went into Stride Rite. While walking around, afterward, I buckled over in severe pain. I was in tears in the middle of the mall, which is so unlike me. I could barely walk. It passed once I sat down and I was fine. Fast-forward to this evening. I was getting up from changing diapers and we were going to head out the door to go pick up Jason and the pain hit me, again. I fell to the floor and had to sit there for a few minutes. Then, it hit me. I hadn't felt the baby move all day. Now, normally it's not a big deal because the baby sleeps all day and I don't typically feel much from her/him. But, beginning about 6:00 every night (like clockwork), my belly starts moving and dancing. I can feel the baby all night and everyone around me can see my tummy moving. I went to pick up Jason, picked up a pizza from our favorite local pizzaria, then headed home to hang out with my mom. When we got home, I sat for a few minutes trying to wake the baby up and get some movement. When that didn't work, I came upstairs and laid down for 10 minutes, shaking my belly, pushing and proding, and just laying still. Absolutely no reaction.

So, I called my ob and she sent me over to L&D. She initially wanted me to go to the closest hospital, but I talked her into letting me come over to my normal hospital. Once there, they tried to get some movement but were unable. I got settled into bed and they hooked me to the monitor and immediately picked up baby's heartbeat. I broke down sobbing and I think finally took a breath. I don't remember much of the drive to the hospital. Jason and I were both silent, thinking the same things...what if? It wasn't an instant relief, though, because baby's heart rate kept dropping from 150-ish to the low 100's. So, I spent a great deal of time rotating from left to right and we did a number of NSTs while I was there. After three hours, we were able to see improvement in the heart rate, but not enough that the nurse felt confident. So, she hopped on the phone with my ob, who headed over to check me out on her own. I have to tell you, I'd marry the woman if I could. I absolutely adore her. There is no other doctor in this world quite like her. She was phenomenal and had me laughing by the end of her visit. Even Jason loves her. :)

I'm home, now. All is well, but the joke between the nurse and our doc is that my body doesn't seem to know how to just grow one baby. I did so much better, pregnancy-wise, with the twins. This pregnancy has been much more difficult.

I am convinced this baby is a girl.

Tuesday Fiona Witt

http://www.half12.blogspot.com

I adore...

...hearing my kids call each other "sissy". :)

The Professor has always referred to Figgy as "sissy" or "MY sissy". When he talks to her, about her, or wants her attention, that's what he calls her. Figgy, in return, has taken to calling HIM "sissy". It's pretty funny and I know people must question it when they hear her calling him that.

The other thing I adore is the constant "twin speak" that is going on. They've always done it, of course, but it has really increased dramatically over the last several months. It's non-stop and I just love sitting back and watching them/listening to them.

Let's clear something up, shall we?

I've had it up to HERE with women who try and compare having several singletons close in age to being a mom of multiples.

I don't care if you have a newborn, a 9 month old, an 18 month old and a 27 month old. YOU DO NOT HAVE ONE STINKING CLUE WHAT IT MEANS TO HAVE TWINS. What it does mean, however, is that you like to reproduce and don't give your body enough time between delivery and conception and that makes you crazy, in my opinion.

Irish twins DO NOT equal twins.

Got it?

Stay tuned...

So, the fun news from today is that this little one has a full head of hair. LOL! Like I couldn't have told them that, already? I could buy stock in Tums. Actually, I finally had to resort to Zantac like I did with the twins. Figgy had a full head of hair when she was born, too.

We're doing ultrasounds every Monday and Thursday from here on out. I started the medication tonight and we'll see how that goes. My ultimate goal is to have a healthy baby and, hopefully, have a successful VBAC. The baby wanted nothing more than to sleep today and they tried everything to wake him/her up. They managed to get a few minutes of breathing exercises monitored before he/she went back to sleep. Of course, this one is quiet all day long and decides the night is for parties and acrobatics. Wonderful!

New favorite words...

Figgy has two new favorite phrases. One she learned from me: "Of course!" The other, from daddy today in the car: "Awesome!"

It's all I've heard today.

Figgy: "Momma. Elmo awesome!"
Me: "Really?"
Figgy: "Of course!"

:)

My appointment today was both good and bad. I have to say that I absolutely love the new doctor in the practice. She started her training as a midwife years ago and became an ob at some point. She practiced at Georgetown Hospital for 10+ years and joined my practice about a year ago, I guess? So, now I'm absolutely wild for my group of docs. I talked at length with her about what the perinatologist said and she reminded me that they're not the one's delivering this baby. She said to remember that they're high risk docs and their job is to sort of scare us (for lack of a better phrase). She said that they will absolutely do their very best to ensure a successful VBAC and that they always feel vaginal is the best way to go. But, she also wanted me to keep in mind that it's not a promise and they will do the c-section if necessary. I'm okay with that. What I'm not okay with is a blanket statment of, "you will not be able to have a VBAC". As far as the medication goes, I'm really torn about this. The medication in question is called glyburide. I've been researching the hell out of this and my gut is telling me to tell them to go jump in a lake and refuse to take it. But, I'm also very afraid of insulin addiction. With PCOS, I'm already in an insulin resistant state. Add to that the family history and the gestational diabetes, and my chances of never coming off of the insulin after this pregnancy are exceptionally high.

I'm now in the weekly window of ultrasounds and will find out tomorrow if we're moving to twice weekly ultrasounds. My ob wants me started on something immediately as my resting numbers are not being controlled by diet. The rest of my numbers throughout the day are good, but the resting number isn't. She says that's a clear indicator of the progression of the disease and my body's inability to regulate. I guess I'll know more tomorrow...

Heard from the kids' room this morning...

Figgy woke up in a foul mood.

Figgy: "yayayayaya...aaaaaaaaaahhhh..." (loads of whining)
.
.
.
.
This goes on for several minutes as I'm brushing my teeth and getting dressed.
.
.
.
Figgy whines more...
.
.
.
.
.
The Professor: "STOP!"

LOL!

Stuff and stuff.

I've been holding off on saying anything because I've been so ashamed about it, especially after making it through the twin pregnancy relatively easily. The extra fluid and large baby were, in fact, indicators of gestational diabetes. My number wasn't really "off the charts" so to speak, but it was high enough that my doc didn't even give me the option of the 3-hour test. I made an appointment to go to the gd class and talk with a nutritionist, which was today. I also sat and talked with my perinatologist last week. That was a miserable experience and has left me both numb and angry, ready to fight. I'm going to ask my ob this week if she has another recommendation for the specialist because I really just never thought I'd have to see these folks again after the twins. I'm not at all happy with the techs there and after the experience last week, definitely not happy with the practice in general. He looked me right in the eyes and told me that it would be impossible for me to have a successful VBAC, that they'd most certainly take the baby early via c-section. Unfortunately, that also means that Jason won't be allowed in the delivery room with me. You see, my placenta is directly underneath of the old scar from the first c-section. So, the way it has been explained to me is that it becomes increasingly likely that I will bleed out and need extra help in the delivery room. This is reason number 1,000,000 that I don't want a c-section, but it seems like I'm being bullied into that decision. I have an appointment with my doc on Wednesday and we'll see what she has to say. The other thing I'm really quite upset about right now is that I discovered today at the nutritionist/conference thing that my perinatologist is known for prescribing a drug for gestational diabetes that is not approved by the FDA. The nurse mentioned it to me in passing as a "just in case you didn't know" sort of thing when we talked about the possibility that my numbers might not be controlled through diet. My resting level is high, which is a problem. The nutritionist today looked at last week's food journal and was impressed, but made a few tweeks to see if that will help with the resting numbers in the morning. I still feel like I'm eating way too much food, but I'm going to trust the nutritionist. I am back to throwing up one meal a day, but I'm convinced it's because of the amount I'm eating. I'll talk to the doc on Wednesday about that, as well. I went from eating three small meals a day to eating six small meals a day with LOADS of carbs.

I'm devestated by this news, all in all. If I can't do anything else right at all, I do take phenomenal care of myself during pregnancy because it's no longer just about me. I have this little person that I'm responsible for. I feel like this whole process has been a disaster from beginning to (nearly) end and it upsets me. I had these goals to finally be able to experience childbirth and the labor process and it seems as time progresses, those goals are being eaten away at.

The one thing that I'm not willing to do, in all of this, is take the medication that the peri will prescrible. As much as I want to avoid insulin, if my diet change doesn't correct the numbers, I will take the insulin before taking a pill not approved by the FDA. I don't care that they've been prescribing it for 7 years now and that no patients have had adverse effects. The pill hasn't been around long enough to tell me what it's going to do to my child in the long run...15 years down the road. I can't believe that they are even able to do this. And, what's more, if this nurse hadn't told me, I'd have taken the medication with no questions asked because I TRUST my doctor.

Panic

I never intended on sending the kids to preschool. It just wasn't something that we thought about. I have an extensive education that includes early childhood education and psychology. My thoughts have always been that I can teach them just as well as someone at a preschool who *doesn't* have a degree. I've always had this thought that they were just glorified daycare centers. Well, Jason has asked a few times about preschool. I'm not sure where this is coming from, except that maybe his mom has asked, but I figured if he's curious I'd look into it. My other thought was that it would be way too expensive for us (anything over $100/week for both is too much). I have been researching preschools here in the area for a few weeks now and nothing really caught my attention. So, I turned to my neighbors who have small kids. I've talked about our wonderful neighbors before, I'm sure. We're extremely fortunate to have the network that we do, and I recognize that. H&B have their daughter, Peyton, who just turned 4. We were going to sit down with them and talk about the adoption process after the loss of our first baby. They send her to a great daycare facility down the street. So, no thoughts on preschools. There is one mom, in particular, that I look to for advice and I respect her tremendously. She has a very similar parenting style and beliefs similar to mine. It turns out, she sends her boys to the same facility as our other favorite neighbors. So, there are four kids who attend this preschool. I asked K for some feedback today and she sent me a long e-mail with info in it, along with the website information. As I sat there looking at the photos of the school and the classrooms, I began to cry. Suddenly, the thought of sending the kids to school (just two days a week, for three hours each day) has put me into a full blown panic. My heart is racing and my palms are sweaty. But, you know what? My view has completely changed about the programs out there. This school has been around since 1950 and was the first kindergarten in town until the county went to k-12. It is a very popular facility and the waiting list can be long. Registration starts next week and the fees are extremely affordable. ($160/mo for T,TH 9-12 class) They have a science class, school pictures, Dad's day, and all sorts of other cool things. The bonus to this is that the kids would be in the same class as one of K's sons who is 6 months younger than E&E. The other upside to this is that I'd have a few hours each week with just the new baby (what in the hell will I do with just one infant?!?! How do you take care of one baby?) and the kids will have an opportunity to learn and participate in activities outside of the house, not to mention peer interaction. I keep them busy, but wouldn't it be nice to have more structured play away from mommy?

Why does this tug at my heart strings so much? I should be jumping at the chance and much more excited about this, I think.

I'm going to call tomorrow and set up an appointment with the head of the program. We may not even be able to get a spot until later on. I'll never know until I try, right?

Update: We've decided to hold off until they're 3 because of finances. We can either put this money towards paying off debt or sending them to this facility twice a week for a few hours a day, and right now, the debt needs to have priority. We're signing them up for a swim class and tumbling through the rec center, instead, which is $78 per class. I'm leaving this here, though, to remind me of these feelings later on.