Tuesday, March 29, 2011

Old Wives Tales

With Peanut starting to kick up a storm lately (how could I have ever worried?!), I've begun thinking more and more of what we are to expect when he makes his/her arrival. Will Bjorn be in big boy bed by then or is another crib in our future? Will Peanut sleep through the night? Nurse easily? Cry only when hungry and tired and then only infrequently?

And the main question: Will the room I want to paint blue be used to house a little boy room with Dr Seuss characters or a little girl rooms complete with purple butterflies on a sky blue background?

So I've decided to put the Old Wives Tales to test and see what the verdict is.

1. Way Mom's Carrying: Carrying high is considered a girl, low a boy. While I continue to feel as if this baby is just going to fall right out he's so low, I look at pictures and know that I am carrying higher than last time. Noticeably higher. Girl.

2. The Swinging Ring: With my wedding ring hanging from a string over my belly, the ring most definitely went in a circular motion (boy). I tried it again with just my engagement  ring, and it swung, again, in a circle. Boy wins.

After this test, I started thinking about the equator and gravitational pull, and while I can't remember most anything about geography and natural science, I do know that the toilets in Australia flush the opposite direction. And that makes me wonder if where I am in the world makes the ring swing in a different way - like the toilets. I am in Denver right now. Should I try it next week in Columbus and see if there are different results?!

3. Heartbeat: Peanut's heartbeat has been consistently over 140, with the first two appointments being around 160. This points to a Girl. (Although Bjorn was always up near 160, too. But whatever.)

4. Mom's Beauty: Supposedly, a girl will "steal" Mom's beauty, so if the Mom is ugly during pregnancy, its a girl. This can't be right, as I know many ugly moms who had boys and many beautiful moms who had girls. Anyways, my skin is clear, my hair looks great and I have not felt prettier since I was pregnant with Bjorn. So. . . this one is a Boy.

5. Key Test: How you pick up a key can show if you are having a boy or a girl. The big, round part - boy. Narrow skinny part - girl. And, just for fun, if you choose to pick it up in the middle - twins. I slide my key off a tabletop. . . . . big, round part first. Boy.

6. Mayan Addition: Add up the mothers age at conception and the year at conception, and if the result is an even number, it will be a girl. Odd, a boy. My number is 2039. It's a boy!

7. Chinese calendar: This takes the mother's age at conception and the month of conception and provides a calendar that shows exactly what the gender will be. According to a few different calendars, Peanut is a Girl.

8. Acne: Much like stealing the moms beauty, if you have pregnancy acne, you are having a girl. My skin is clear as its ever been. Boy.

9. Cravings: Salty foods mean a boy, sweet foods a girl. I really haven't had any cravings (really, I haven't!!!) but if I had to choose between a bowl of french fries doused in salt and ketchup or a bowl of ice cream covered in chocolate syrup. . . I'm going for the french fries. Every time. This one is a Boy.

Winner: Boy with 6 out of 9. 

There is another test I didn't take - the Drain-O test. Apparently if you pee into a cup of Drain-O, and it turns green, you are having a Girl. Blue, you're having a boy. First of all, I have heard from many people that this one has, like, a 99% accuracy. And I don't want to know. . . Secondly, who the hell tried this the first time to start this old wives tale going?! Someone had to be the first - what made them put a cup of DRAIN-O in a cup and pee into it?!?! The sheer weirdness of this makes me not want to try it. And I don't have a need for Drain-O and I'm a cheap-ass. I don't want to spend the $3.75 on it.

Saturday, March 26, 2011

It's just a Phase

A few days ago my cousin, holding her quiet, content 10 month old son, asked me which of the phases of Bjorn's life has been my favorite.

This as my adorably insane child is running in circles on the patio, carrying his football and grunting incoherently.

"Whichever stage he just finished." I said, almost without thinking.

And as I said it, I realized it was true.

I have loved all the stages - after they were already gone. Because, as most parents have noticed, they seem to last forever while you are in them . . . . and then they go away much too quickly.

While it was happening, I thought the newborn stage was pretty boring. I used to wonder what I did pre-Bjorn to fill all this empty time I had while he slept and sat. I needed him to do more.

Then, when he started crawling, I missed those days of snuggles and long naps together in front of a TV show that didn't have anything to do with Elmo, Choo-choo's or counting.

When he was crawling, I couldn't wait until he started walking. Then I wouldn't have to clean my floor every day so my kid didn't end the day looking like a Swiffer. At least he helped pick up the dog hair!

Then, when he started walking, I wanted him to crawl again, so I could keep up with him without expending so much energy.

After walking, he began climbing and I wished that he could have just stayed in the walking phase forever, so I wouldn't have to worry so much. And, again - soooo much energy.

Then there was the jumping-off-the-stuff-he-climbed phase. The fun one. Talk about worrying and energy. Couldn't he have just continued climbing only?

Then, within the midst of all these you have the eating phases: breastfeeding only, then the adding of formula, then total formula and rice cereal. Then homemade baby food and bits of chicken and veggies. To chunks of vegetables and maybe some soft pasta. To eating everything I have on my plate - whether I wanted to share or not.

We have the crying for everything stage. Then grunting. Pointing. Throwing. Whining. Baby Sign Language. Partial words no one but those around him all the time can understand. Words. Sentences.

Each stage is great. . . . but you don't really realize it until it is gone. And by then it's too late, except through videos and pictures.

I guess that's why we have second children. So we get to go through all these great phases all over again.

Tuesday, March 22, 2011


I didn't believe it when I first heard it.

Oh surrrrrre. My kid is just going to start talking one day and not stop. Sure. Uh huh.

When all your kid can do is grunt "Uhh" and "Errr" as he reaches for things, you never think they are actually going to be able to speak to you.

And, now, all of a sudden, the avalanche of words has come.

This past week, I handed him his hockey game ticket and he took it, saying "Tic-ket?" and handed it to be scanned.

Why, yes, kid, that IS your ticket. I didn't think you knew that word.

Today he looked for his girlfriend at the bookstore "Where Ash-ee?" with one arm up questioningly.

Folks, that is not just words - that is a sentence.

From "bock" (block) to "show-her" (shower) the kid is learning everything. Quicker than I ever thought possible.

Which means I really need to stop dropping the s and f bombs around him. It's only cute up to a point.

Tuesday, March 15, 2011

Saturday, March 12, 2011

19 weeks: Mangos and Peanuts

So it's not so much that I was worried lately as that I was. . . well, wondering.

Wondering why I couldn't feel Peanut. Because at this point with Bjorn I had gained almost twice as much weight and was still feeling him kick and roll. (Which, if you know my kid, should not surprise you. He just.plain.doesn't.stop.)

So I was kinda wondering what was going on. Wondering to the point that I googled "19 weeks have not felt baby kick" and actually read What to Expect when Expecting to gain a little perspective. But not so wondering that I took my XRay Tech cousin up on the offer to "jump on in and see the Peanut really quick" at her hospital and not so wondering that I called up my Doc. Just kinda wondering.

And worried. Just a little.

I had my 19 week appt yesterday and that was pretty much the first question out of my mouth.

"Well, that's normal." says Doc, as he blows up a latex glove to occupy my (aforementioned) active almost 2 year old. "You are still in the normal range to feel it for a few weeks from now. AND. . . .you're thinking of feeling Peanut like you felt Bjorn in the third trimester. You're thinking kicks and punches and shots to the lung. Think flutters and flips and maybe a little nudge."

Ohhhhh. . . yeah. I guess I have been feeling that. Huh. I forgot that it starts out nice and sweet. Like a nudge from The Hubs when I fall asleep in church. I have totally felt that.

All in all, Peanut is good.

Two arms, two legs. One skull with a brain inside. A bladder. A stomach. Arm bones and thigh bones. And, yes, one beating heart. 141.

But no hamburger or hot dog. We shut our eyes during some of the measurements (and almost fell asleep in the darkened Ultrasound room) and didn't see what we probably could have. And even if I had opened my eyes just because I couldn't resist, there is no way I could know what I was looking at. How anyone can decipher a baby from those things are beyond me!!

Peanut is 10 oz. Measuring right on schedule.

I did buy a Mango this week, as Peanut is now the size and weight of a large mango (and they were on super sale for 75 cents. Woo hoo!!) so I could take another fruit and belly pic. But my camera broke. I didn't buy a new one yet. (Cheap ass!) And The Hubs keeps forgetting his camera at work. So, here ya go. No belly but I do have a . . .

Picture of a Mango.

Tuesday, March 8, 2011

Chinese, if you please

The first time around, everyone thought we were ca-razy for not finding out Bjorn's gender. Crazy. As in bats in the belfry, not playing with enough cards in the deck, one sandwich short of a picnic Crazy.

This time around, I guess everyone expects crazy from us.

Because now the not-finding out of Peanut's gender barely gathers a mention. They expect it. 

And this time around, I hadn't begun the non-stop questioning to myself as to what I am having. (A baby, duh!) I haven't had any dreams or any inklings. No funny urges or crazy happenings.

Honestly, considering the track record of my and my husband's family (Bro in law has three BOYS, cousins have four BOYS and two girls, my husband has two BROTHERS, his cousins all have BOYS) I just kinda assumed we are having a boy again.

Which I like. I really like being a boy mom.

Twice in the last few days I have had friends ask me if I had consulted a Chinese calendar. Hadn't thought of it yet so I checked it out tonight.

It says we are having a girl.


Uh oh.

So I went back and checked to see if it was right on Bjorn.  And it was.

Double Uh oh.

Could we be having a girl? I hadn't even entertained the thought of it. I was so incredibly certain with Bjorn that we were having a girl and then, obviously, we didn't and now the Chinese calendar was right with him and what if it's right with Peanut and. . . .

I have to do it, people. I have to.

No. . . not look at an ultrasound and find out. Because that would be cheating. And I am not a cheater.

I have to try each and every Old Wive's Tale that could possible have worked for your Mom's best friend's nieces knocked-up friend who used it to find out if she was having a boy or a girl. I have to try all these other tales, to see if they cancel out the Chinese calendar in any way and I could still possibly in any way be having a boy.

Because the Chinese Calendar is supposedly 99% accurate.

So what Old Wives Tales do you know that I can try?

Saturday, March 5, 2011

This is why I blog

I'm not very good at keeping track of dates or special events. Never have been. If I had been keeping a blog when The Hubs and I began dating, I might actually know when we first said 'I love you', where we had our first real date and all about those first love butterfly feelings.

But I don't. In fact, I don't even know our actual dating "anniversary". It's sometime in August - ish.I'm pretty sure.

I feel that blogging keeps me connected to the milestones in our lives now. To be more specific, in Bjorn's life. (And Peanut's too!)

And it means I don't have to fill out a dang baby book.

I really like how my blog keeps me in tune with what was and is going on with my life. This kiddo is growing up so fast, I can hardly keep up - and only a few of the hundreds of new things he is doing is making it into writing. I can't type fast enough to keep up with him.

So when I go back and read on February 10th that he is saying "THANKYOOOOUUUU" and being polite and sweet, I gasp with amazement because less than one month later he is using that phrase in a sentence.

"Thank you Daddy." he says when handed a snack cup or after getting his shoes put on. Less than a month later and he is putting these words together. Making sentences. Making sense. (Even if sometimes he does say it to me. I think he's just being silly. He knows I'm Mommy.)

And it's not just with Thank you. "Bye Bye Jake." after my cousin's kids come over to play. "Bed Help Mommy." when he wants to get on the bed. "Dog where?" when he can't find the dog.

It's incredible. And, honestly, I would have no clue how fast time really was flying by if I hadn't taken the time to record it. It is worth the loss of sleep or naps it may take. Worth the pain of creating a well thought out and interesting post.

To remember. That is why I blog.

Thursday, March 3, 2011

There ain't nothin' like a Potty Post

Yesterday, after reading Amber's blog and on the heels of changing what had to have been my 100th diaper of the week, I decided it was time.

Past time, actually.

I bought Bjorn a potty.

And, as fitting a Baby Bjorn becoming a Big Boy Bjorn, he got this potty.

A baby Bjorn. How apropos.

I almost got him this one.

Because I really like the idea of him sitting on his throne, but. . . well. . . I think Daddy would get jealous if Bjorn had one and he didn't. And it doesn't come in Real Big Boy size.

I haven't read any books on potty training. I haven't even really decided that I want to try to potty train Bjorn. But he is 21 months old. Verrry smart for his age. And if he wants to try a potty, well, at least there is one sitting right there for him.

And so he did. Try it, I mean. Not just once, but twice.

The first time was forced. During his few minutes of naked time - after bath and before PJ's - he peed on our living room rug. The Hubs was disgusted, but I could smell opportunity (and the slight acrid smell of baby pee). I immediately grabbed him and hustled him onto his potty, reciting "You go pee pee on the potty. The potty is for pee pee. You go pee pee on the potty. The potty is for pee pee."

He kept repeating me. "Pee pee? Pee pee?" until after just a few minutes, he pee'd again. . . this time in the potty.

Which he promptly stuck his hand in and swished around. Yuck.

Then today, again after bath time (when I know he pee'd quite a few times in the bath because I saw it), we were on our way to get our PJ's on when he grabbed my hand. "Pee pee? Pee pee?" "Bjorn, you need to get your PJ's on." "Pee pee!" he cried. Fine, I figured, if the kid wants to sit on his throne, I should let him. Heck, maybe he just needed to get comfortable with it.

But, no, he needed to pee again.  "Pee pee." he said. And then he went.

I'm so proud. Who could have thought I would be so proud of peeing? But I am. So proud, in fact, that Bjorn got not one but two Elmo stamps on his hands after his big boy pee pee. So proud.

**As a disclaimer, I still don't know anything about potty training. I didn't expect him to take an interest in the potty at all, and this might just be beginner's luck and he forgets all about it in a few days. But I think I need to go buy borrow from the library some books on potty training. Any suggestions?**

**In case you are counting, I wrote the word 'Pee' 27 times in this post. I thought you might be interested.**