Living up to my Title

I am definitely slacking on my blogging. The most obvious reason is that having a new baby and a demanding toddler is signficantly cutting down on my computer time, the other reason is that I can't even remember the day of the week anymore--wait, ER is on tonight, it's Thursday, ha! OK, what I'm trying to say is that there isn't much differentiating my days from each other and not a whole lot of bloggable stuff going on. Here are the things I could write about if I thought anyone would find them interesting:

1) Nursing--not the medical profession
2) Tantrums--mine or the DBs
3) Nickelodeon--because shit mom than I am, it's been on almost all day all week. :P
4) Spit up--anyone every see a baby projectile vomit out their nose? It's quite a sight.
5) Laundry--see above
6) Poopy Diapers--10 a day, good freaking grief.
7) Laundry--see above
8) Clock watching--is it 6pm yet? hell, is it Friday yet??

The Real Thing

So, my stint as a SAHM officially begins today. Hold me, I'm scared.

I opted to keep the DB home from daycare today and see what this is really going to be like. I have no idea WHY I would choose today after the horrific toddler weekend we had or the fact that GB cried for two hours last night (10:30pm to 12:30am). You'd think I'd want this major life change to start off on a better note. :P

I have to admit to feeling quite out of sorts, like time has ceased to hold meaning for me. Mondays only mean that my two meager days of help have come to an end, but I'm STILL here, STILL doing the same thing as any other day of the week. I know that it will take time to adjust and get myself into a new routine with some sort of scheduled activities and OUTSIDE ADULT INTERACTION, but for now, I'm afloat in a sea of sameness, nurse, change 27 diapers a day, beg toddler not to pull every book off shelf, draw on the table, go outside without permission, etc... and pray hard for 6pm.

It can't all be rainbows and sunshine...

My poor Dinoboy is really out of sorts. The boy who has easily transitioned from boob to bottle (and back), bottle to sippy, crib to bed, etc... was not quite so easy going when his only childhood came to an abrupt halt. Thankfully, he really likes his little brother (so far) and has not tried feeding him peanuts or smothering him with a blanket, though he might knock him unconcious during one of his kiss fests. Mostly, he's just really emotional and suffering from some terrible separation anxiety. Last week, I walked out the back door to the deck while my SIL was watching the wee ones and I hear this horrid screamy crying. I bolt back in the door to see what massive injury my son must have sustained, and SIL tells me he was bawling because he didn't know where I was. The two times I've left the house to run errands, DB cried and now dropping him off at daycare is major trauma.

I know this will pass eventually (right??!!), and in the realm of things it's not too bad, but it just piles a little more guilt on to what I was already feeling. Bottom line though, I'd much rather DB suffer this small injustice now, that the greater injustice of being an only child permanently (this is coming from an only child who was quite spoiled and a tad obnoxious). I think siblings are a good thing, I miss not having any.

All By My-se-eh-elf...

Yup, the ILs left at the crack of dawn this morning and BWB went to work about 2 minutes after that, so it was just me and the boys this morning. Thankfully GB slept fairly well last night waking every 3 or so hours and DB slept until after 7am, so I'm not totally wiped. I do have a nasty sinus cold that isn't helping, but hopefully I'm on the mend.

Fearing the first un-aided day, I schlepped the DB off to daycare so i could rest and basically spend my day with baby on boob. Besides, it will be good for DB to get some playtime with his buddies and rid himself of some of that endless energy he seems to possess.

Anyway, I think I'm spoiling myself, because so far, so great. GB is napping, he wakes up to nurse, looks around a bit and goes back to sleep. I've been able to start packing up my maternity clothes, log some computer time and even shower and eat! I think I'll put DB in daycare tomorrow too. ;)

When did that happen?

Let's see, by my calculations I was only in the hospital for two and half days, but that's not possible because DinoBoy could not have grown so dramatically in a mere 60 hours. There must have been some sort of time warp in place because I am totally convinced that DB has grown 5 inches and put on 10 lbs. And those hands, my God, they are huge, and his feet? Ginormous! And picking that kid up, man, I think I need to go through some sort of hard core physical fitness program. Bottom line, MY KID IS HUGE.

Now, I know this is all a bunch of hooey, but this is like the Muller-Lyer illusion where those lines really do look like they are different lengths, even if you measure them with a ruler and see they are the exact same. GB has totally skewed my perspective on size. And despite the fact that I know this, I can't seem to refrain from making thrice daily comments on how freakin' huge the Dino Boy is.

And he is, you know, huge...

The Object of My Affections

I'm so in love...and so conflicted...

I am absolutely smitten with the Golden Boy. My heart explodes with love and adoration for him. I think I held him every second he wasn't in the bili box the first two days he was home. I'm cosleeping, breast feeding on demand, and basically bending to every whim of my little GB. And it makes me feel guilty.

To explain, we must rewind to 26 months ago when I brought the DinoBoy home from the hospital. It wasn't nearly the sunshine and flowers experience that I'm currently having. Aside from the standard first time mom stress and struggle, DB was a terrible nurser. Every nursing session was a battle of wills, lots of crying (from us both) and a general feeling of animosity towards this little person who was making life so utterly difficult and absolutely killing my boobs. Then top that off with a dose of the baby blues and let's just say my first weeks with DinoBoy were not the most joyful.

Of course that all passed and I grew to love DB with everything I was. Throughout GB's pregnancy I often wondered how I was ever going to love anyone as much as my first born son, the Krohnensohn (crown prince), as my mom calls him. I remember that disquieting feeling I had before I left for the hospital Sunday night, that need to kiss him 100 times, and that I felt like I was ending his glory days.

Now I'm home and things are so different. My feelings are all convoluted. Somehow I feel like my love for GB is even greater than for DB and THAT makes me feel like shit. Maybe it's because things are so much easier this time around, maybe it's because DB is being very much a stinker lately, maybe I'm just living on post birth endorphins, maybe it's all of the above. I'm not quite sure how to reconcile it all though, to stop feeling like the absolute worst mother on the planet.

Ah Blessed Birth...

By Easter I figured this baby was never coming, but I was smugly smiling at Jane's (aka "the real Curly") false prediction of a 4/10 baby (hee). We went to church, took a walk, had ribs in the crockpot for dinner with SIL and her boyfriend. Around 5pm I started spotting a little, I'd already lost my plug that week, this was actually spotting, so I knew something was up. I whispered to BWB, but did want to sound the alarm in case this was just more teasing symptoms. I felt fine, didn't spot much, finished dinner and settled in to watch Sopranos after saying goodnight to SIL and bf.

I started having contractions around 8pm, 10 minutes apart and didn't think much of it. They didn't hurt, but they were consistent. By 9pm they were closer, about 7 minutes and slightly more painful, but I was still cross stitching through them and watching Deadwood. By the end of Deadwood, I was actually hurting and was down to five minutes apart, but though, maybe I should lay down and see if they go away. As BWB is crawling into bed, I say, I think you better get back up as I double over in pain. We call the on call OB who said head in, and then called SIL to come over.

Contractions are getting more painful and about 4 minutes apart. We finish packing up the car, sil arrives, I kiss DB about 50 times and apologize for ending his only childhood, and off we go. Starting to hurt more, get to the hospital, still 4 minutes apart, they send us up and get me checked into a room and start all the paperwork and assessments. By now, I'm having a lot of trouble getting through contractions and thinking how I could never ever skip the epidural, especially since I'm only at three cm.

Then come the needles. They stick me for my IV in my right wrist, she starts taking the blood samples and they are sooooo slow. I'm starting to feel sick. They move the needle around hoping to get things moving, no luck, I'm green, they move to the left wrist. That one went in fine, blood flowed freely, got IV in--I'm going to puke regardless now though. I highly recommend NOT having ribs for dinner before going into labor. Then they had to stick my arm for the CBC since that clotted in the tube.

An hour later after things are all filled out I'm at four and crying to BWB that I can't do this. I'm puking after every contraction now too. Yuck. They call the drug doc and get me set up for the epi. Ok, I knew from last time this wouldn't be easy due to my scoliosis, and I was right. They stuck me four times to get the epi right and send huge shockwaves down my legs. It took effect quickly and also totally stopped my contractions. But WTF did I care, i wasn't hurting anymore!

I dozed off and on through the night, they came in and broke my water around 3am--it took four tries, they said it was one helluva a thick membrane and no wonder it didn't break on it's own. By 5am, I call my mom since it's 6am in FL and I didn't want to miss her. She's all sappy and crying. I doze some more, at 6am, I'm 9 cms and feeling a lot of pressure in my bottom so I knew I was close. Fred (my OB) arrived at 6:30 and checked things out, I was ready to push, so they set up the room and I started pushing about 6:55. I actually watched in the mirror this time, and aside from being astounded by how incredibly huge the female anatomy can get, it was really cool. It helped to focus on the pushing and it was really neat watching my Golden child be born.

Out pops the head, slowly the shoulders and the rest and I'm dying to know. I see umbilical cord and...a PENIS! Hee, I always had a feeling it was a boy. I felt awesome, truly. Doc was stitching me up and I'm taking pictures of BWB with Golden Boy. It was so much better than post birth with DB, I was so sick and shaking and out of it last time. Then there's the hair, my God the hair! I swear every single person who came in to contact with him commented on the hair and fussed over him.

GB nurses like a champ, he latched on right away and went to town, I was so happy and relieved! I'm much more at ease, which just made everything so much better. I'm really excited to see how GB is like DB but so different, I'm looking forward to watching his personality emerge. He's a great baby so far, just happy to be in mommy's arms. He's in the phototherapy box like DB was, but his bili count was much lower, so I think he'll be out tomorrow.

Being home is great, I was so ready to leave the hospital. Other than having a sore bum, I truly feel wonderful. This makes me excited to do this again. :)

White Castle is not my Friend

Now I remember why I only ever ate it at 2am shit-faced drunk. That is all.

Overdue

Curly is a late book at the library, officially overdue, I wonder if I should charge a fee? Amazingly my attitude towards being still pregnant has improved over the last week. Despite some slight bitterness about missing the 04/04/04 date and now my due date, I'm pretty content--especially since I just read this--bring on the snickers eggs! I feel well, I'm not hugely swollen like I was with DB and when I really stop to think, life post natal is really much harder than prenatal.

My OB even offered to induce next week, but knowing full well the evils of pitocin, I might just let Curly hang out until shim is ready. The anticipation of it all is actually getting more fun because I'm no longer so focused on this day or that. But hey talk to me tomorrow and I might have salad tongs in hand.

Due Date

So, today is my official due date, and as you can surmise by my blogging, I have not yet given birth. Now, I could be bitter and pissy (ok I am), but in all honesty I'm still feeling pretty well. I had contractions all day yesterday, but apparently my going to sleep resets labor and I have to start all over again the next day as I had nary a contraction that I felt during the night.

I really didn't expect to make it this far, as I went a few days early with Toby and it just seemed logical to me that the same would happen this time around too. I don't quite know how to deal with this on again off again labor thing, as well as the unbelievable amt of crotch snot that has exited my cervix (WOW and EWWW). I was much happier with the POP! WHOOSH! that told me DB would be arriving that day. I actually feel so lost in this, that I emailed a friend about when I should start even paying attention to contractions. I mean, sometimes they are painful, but not earth shattering, other times they are like clockwork, but feel more like menstrual cramps than anything.

So, on I wait for what simply HAS to be a girl child, and try not to be too bitter. And well, at least the BWB is happy, I can't even remember the last time he got sex twice in one night!

Pregnancy is Gross

Sometimes I wonder how men survive pregnancy and all it's glory. I'm married to a man who cringes at the word period (unless we're talking punctuation), so I'm surprised he can listen to my OB appt updates and uterine discussions. I mean even some of my female friends get totally icked out by wonders of the pregnant body (CORKS!), so poor poor men. I mean did the BWB *really* want a phone call at work this morning to tell him to get done what he needs to because I'm losing my plug and this happened hours before my water broke with Dinoboy?

I'm often amazed at the casual nature that we women discuss these things and that people are actually interested in knowing about them. We chat about tweeter checks, cervical fluids and hemerroids like we're talking about what we made for dinner last night. Bottom line, I'm glad that I have a group of friends open enough to talk about these things, because God knows, pregnancy and all it's accompaniments are pretty scary to a layman. I mean what would YOU do if one day when you went to the bathroom and a big ball of snot fell out of your crotch? That's what I thought. Anyway, thank you Dr. D for stripping the membranes (really, you don't want to know), apparently it's working.

Now, go enjoy your coffee and bagel!

Womb Check!

Yes, we've reached my due week (hate going by a single date), and the calls from well meaning friends, relatives and coworkers are pouring in. For anyone woman who has been 9 months pregnant, I know you can relate to the dread you feel when the phone rings. "Have you given birth yet?" "You still pregnant?" "Did you have that baby?" God forbid I'm five minutes late somewhere, or I don't answer my cell, or I stay home instead of go to work. I must be birthing!!! Even better when I do show up somewhere and people are disappointed to see me. "We were sure you'd have had that baby by now!" Um, do you see my ginormous waddling bitchy self, don't you think I'm really the last one who wants to be here?!

Now, I know that BWB's third cousin twice removed has good intentions and heck, might even just want to know how I'm feeling (huge, tired, achy and cranky in case you were wondering), but fer pete's sake, do people think I'm going to sneak off and give birth and not tell a soul? For all you worrywarts, I have my cell phone and my palm pilot (containing all relevant names/numbers) packed with my hospital bag. I have every intention of spreading the word when I finally find out what this little stinker is. I love you all for thinking of me and caring about my child, but if you value your life, do not further agitate the preggo! ;P

PS. VG, you are still totally allowed to stalk me. A, quit yer whining, I'll freakin' call you at 2am just to make you happy--even if I'm not in labor ;).

Depends

On what you ask?

No, I mean I need some Depends! I've miraculously (grumble) hit 40wks of pregnancy and with that the urgent need to pee any time I stand up. Now, there have been urinary issues since that HPT gave me a ++, but usually only when I sneezed suddenly or had a coughing fit. These days, I don't have to do anything special to wet my pants, just walk or sit or stand or lift anything heavier than a feather.

I know that this means there has been major droppage and birth is imminent, but man, I don't have time for the laundry not to mention the absurdity of a 9 mo preggo trying to put on underwear.

So Curly, in my best Fat Bastard voice, "GET OUT OF MY BELLAY!"

Stubborn Fetus

I ask one little thing from Curly, ok, I've asked several things, but this is the one I REALLY wanted. Do you think Curly complies, nope, stinker. This is of course to have given birth today, to have the awesome 04/04/04 bday to match DinoBoy's 02/02/02 bday. Yeah yeah, I have 7 more hours, but it ain't gonna happen. No amount of home induction action has budged the baby--and no, of course I didn't drink castor oil . Curly was kind enough to tease me last night with about 1.5 hours worth of regular contractions--that went nowhere. Then of course daylight savings screws me out of an hour today, grumble.

Am I bitter, yes, why, I don't know, I guess I had really truly convinced myself that I would be giving birth today. Stupid and baseless yes, but still powerfully disappointing. I have this totally queer dread of going in to work tomorrow, like I failed or something. Man, pregnancy does some weird things to your brain.

So, for all you excited Delphians that figured since I hadn't visited all weekend that I was unpregnant, big fat nnrnt. I'll be chatting with you tomorrow. :P

Morning Chuckles

So, I'm driving into work this morning and my cell phone rings. It's 7:30am, so I figured it was probably the BWB, but it turned out to be my friend A. I answer, Good Morning! and then all I hear is ranting. Whoa, whoa, slow down, what?

"THEY FUCKING TOOK HOWARD STERN OFF THE AIR DUE TO INDECENCY ISSUES, FUCKING BUSH, DAMN I'M SO PISSED!"

Um, ok.

Me not being a big fan of Howard Stern to begin with didn't take this as the all fire end of the earth, but I know it's not about the person, but rather the issue--freedom of speech. But being 9 months pregnant and still waiting for a finished basement, my small mind is pretty self absorbed at the moment. :)

So she rants on and on, cursing GW and I mention she might want to blame the religious right instead, as they would be the ones to lobby for that type of thing. And that if Stern kept breaking radio regs, then maybe he should be taken off, blah blah blah. This leads into if Kerry were in office....and that leads me into we'd be paying taxes out the ass...which leads to gas prices, which leads to how politicians suck in general.

Then as she's about to pop a forehead vein I mention that "hey, it IS April Fools Day you know. This is probably a joke." Stunned silence, I hear her radio turn back on, then a loud FUUUUCKKKKK! Fuck fuck fuck. I'm unsuccessfully choking back much laughter, all that ranting fer nuthin'. I laughed the rest of the way to work, now, if it had only induced labor....