Sunday, May 29, 2011

Live! In 3D!!

Friday was Peanut's latest sonogram - the big one, the whole shazamm, the exciting moment. Live, in 3 and 4D, was Peanut.

S/he wasn't very cooperative, with his/her hand and arm always across his/her face and mouth. The US Tech tried to shake Peanut up a little, but right after he would move his arm and she would try to get the shot, he would move it right back. Stubborn little bugger.

Also, to complicate things, when I would lie on my back for more than 2 or 3 minutes, my toes would start to tingle, my calves ache and my head start to swim from lightheadedness. In that position, Peanut was cutting off my circulation. So, I was on my side for most of the sonogram, which was much more comfortable, but much less conducive to getting good pictures.

The best pictures we got were when I sucked it up, laid on my back, tried to get as much air as possible and waited until I was almost nauseous and passing out before telling the US Tech that I needed to move. I may have been miserable, but I got some good pictures!

S/he is measuring 3 lbs, 8 ounces. At his 3/4D sonogram, Bjorn measured 3 lbs, 9 ounces. Peanut's appointment was on 30 weeks, 4 days. Bjorn's was on. . . . 30 weeks, 4 days.


The weirdest is how alike they look. Same big cheeks. Same pouty Angelina-Jolie lips. Same smushed nose. Or do all babies look alike in the womb?

 Peanut sucking his thumb.

Peanut. In one of the rare moments s/he is not awake and kicking me!!

Wednesday, May 18, 2011

Mom Up

As I get ready to start my maternity leave (yes, already!) The Hubs and I have sat down many a night to tackle some of the preparation questions.

Will I go back to work?
Will I go back to work, but at a different job?
Will day care for two kids be affordable on my current salary? How about on a salary from a different job?
Would I go insane not having an outside job and staying home with my kids all day? Or would I be glad to do it?
Should Bjorn continue daycare a few days a week while I am on leave? Does he need to be 'socialized'?

And the questions keep going and going.  Right now we are trying to deal only with the stuff we can control at this time - namely, should Bjorn continue daycare while I am on leave.

The Hubs says yes. Not because of any socialization the kiddo needs. Not because he loves his daycare or he has fun playing with his friends. Because I need the time to grocery shop and relax and read before Peanut gets here. He says I deserve it.

And I completely agree. I do deserve it.

But I'm still not going to do it.

Because sometimes it is just time to Mom Up. 

When Bjorn first came, he threw my whole world for a loop. I had no idea how selfish my life had been before - entire days off reading book after book on a lounge chair by the pool. Breakfast with 'The View', lunch with friends and afternoons window-shopping or getting a pedicure. Yes, I worked full-time. Yes, my house was clean, the laundry done and the fridge stocked, but most of my days were spent doing me things for. . . well. . .me.

Then Bjorn came and I read - a little bit. I window-shopped - some. And I got a pedicure only when The Hubs could watch him for a few hours in between feedings. My whole life became a lot less selfish.

I went back to work, put Bjorn in daycare and sometimes - not often, but yes, probably once every two weeks - Bjorn went just so I could have time by myself. To grocery shop or get my hair done or go to the dentist or just.freakin.sleep. I liked those days to myself.

But its time now to let those days slide away. Its time to Mom Up and Be.A.Mom. Embrace it fully. Throw myself into it. I'm not saying a Mom can't take days for herself; of course she can. In fact, I plan on doing it still after Peanut is here. But since I won't get paid on my maternity leave, I need to be more cautious with the cash flow. Paying for someone to watch Bjorn so I can relax is unnecessary. Instead, I will trade with my other Mommy friends - most of whom don't have family in town, either.

It's time now to grab the Mommy reins with both hands, to give into this new life I have chosen. It's time to realize that the way things were before will never be again, and that is a good thing. It's time to stop thinking about the books I can't read and the dresses I can't shop for, and think instead about the homemade bubbles we can make and the finger painting we can do.

It's time to Mom Up.

Tuesday, May 10, 2011

You made your bed. . . now lie in it

I started a blog post today, got about halfway through and saved it.

Or I thought I did. I swear it said 'Saved'.

But I went to search for it tonight and. . . . nothing. Crickets.

And I'm tired and all my good ideas and funny phrasing were used up in the earlier, deleted blog post. So here is the Reader's Digest Condensed Version.

Tried to convert the kiddo's crib to a toddler bed this weekend. He seemed really excited about it - picked out new Elmo & Cookie sheets all by himself. Put all his monkeys and bears to go Night Night and climbed in and out multiple times, testing the waters of a three (and a half) sided bed.

Then night time hit and he went B-A-N-A-N-A-S. Completely bananas.

It wasn't just crying coming from the room, it was heart-wrenching sobs. Not just screaming, but screeching. He was terrified of being in that bed.

I had been warned, so I held on as long as I could. Two and a half hours later, with The Hubs and I trading off the calming and soothing, The Hubs threw up his hands, grabbed his allen wrench and had the bed back into a crib in less than five minutes.

10 seconds later, Bjorn was fast asleep.

So, yeah, we caved. Easily. I had heard to give it a few days, or a week to transition. But something in me - in us - said that maybe we were trying to push it. Maybe Bjorn just wasn't ready.

That's ok. I didn't see many kids bringing their cribs to college, so he will be in a real bed eventually. (I hope.)

Until then, I'll enjoy that he is still a little boy. And not make him grow up too fast.

Friday, May 6, 2011

Different Strokes

I have been thinking in Top Ten Lists lately. And I don't even watch Letterman.

Maybe it's because my life seems to be divided into lists: To Do Lists, Shopping Lists, Registry Lists, Grocery Lists, Sales Call Lists. (Did I mention that at 6 months pregnant I decided to get a part-time job. . in addition to my full-time one? Crazy!)

Whatever the reason, my brain is hard-wired lately for thinking in lists. So, sometimes we just gotta go with what we got, right?! Which is how I got. . . .

8 Ways Being Pregnant is Different This Time Around:

8. Being pregnant and tired entitles you to sleeping late every morning. . .. unless you have a two year old who wants to get up.  While pregnant with Bjorn, I woke up to make The Hubs coffee in the morning, and then headed back to bed until 10, when I got my own coffee, watched The View and then took a nap at 11.  With Peanut, I am awakened at 7 am by a toddler screaming "Mommy! Mommy!" through his monitor and it doesn't stop until naptime. And if The Hubs gets up and deals with the kiddo in the morning? Well, I can still hear him yelling and playing in the living room. We need better sound-proofing. Or a quieter kid.

7. Pregnancy means you can eat whatever you want - unless your two year old insists on sharing all your food with you.  Then, you have to forgo the daily McDonalds salt-laden french fry platter and opt for the healthier option. Because I do share all my food with Bjorn and I do not want him eating that salty crap. So. . . my daily extravagances this pregnancy have been more pita chips and hummus, less french fries and milkshakes.

6. My body is already wrecked.  The first time around, I lamented the stretch marks and the drooping, the veins and the unexpected bulging.  This time around? Eh. Bjorn pretty much ruined this spring chicken's body, so any additional damage Peanut has done goes unnoticed. The fact that I'm laying off all the french fries has probably helped this time too!

5. I hate all my old maternity clothes. It's only been two years since I was pregnant with Bjorn, but I realize now just how awful I looked before. Did I think that just because I was "glowing" I could get away with shirts saying 'I'm not fat, I'm knocked up"?! Yes, it's still funny. Yes, I still giggle about it. But, now I reserve these shirts for workouts at the gym and lounging around the house. No one in my mom's group or church group needs to read that.

4. Naptime doesn't exist.  This goes along with #8 on the list. . . sleeping in doesn't exist, and naptime doesn't exist. Yes, Bjorn takes almost a 2 hour nap every day, but that is my time. MY time. Sometimes my time means sweeping and mopping the house, sometimes my time means reading a book, taking a long shower or watching mindless TV. But why would I want to waste the only time I have all day that is MINE with a nap? I still wake up tired after a nap, so whats the use? And there are only so many hours in the day and only so many days 'til Peanut gets here and then there will be no such thing as my time.

3. I bring my guy with me to the doctor's office - and I don't mean The Hubs. With Bjorn, The Hubs came to every single OB appt. And we quickly learned that if you have to take off from a very busy job to go along with your wife, just don't. Because OB's are notorious for having emergencies. (Hello?! Women go into labor ALL the time. . . and always right before my appt time. It's the same Murphy's Law that applies to grocery checkout lines and TSA airport lines.) Once we waited almost 2 hours for our appt, and typically we waited about 45 minutes. Now, I bring Bjorn along with me (only because I don't like putting him in daycare more than three days a week), but The Hubs only comes for the "important" visits. Really, there is no reason to make him wait an hour just for Doc to come in for five minutes to measure, listen and tell me all is good. So far I haven't had any questions and we haven't needed to be there any longer than that. It's not that The Hubs isn't excited - he is. He just doesn't need to be in a doctor's office to experience it all.

2. I know what I am getting myself into.  I was so naive with Bjorn. I didn't know what I was getting into - just that it would be painful and millions of women have done it since the beginning of time. Now, I know that Peanut's birth will begin with a planned date, a scalpel, and hopefully no coughing or sneezing for at least two weeks after. And I am not looking forward to it all. Correction: I am scared shitless. I hate surgery. I hate c-sections. And I hate that I am doing it all over again. But I love that I get to be pregnant and have another baby, so I guess that totally out-weighs the negative.

1. I don't really know what I am getting myself into. With Bjorn, I knew that I had not ever changed a diaper or been in charge of caring for something so helpless and new. I knew I was a newbie. This time, I am supposed to have it all figured out. But I don't. New Mom friends ask me "When did you start giving real food?" and "When did Bjorn first sleep on his stomach?" and I frantically flip through my blog to find the date and blog post. Because I remember that last week Bjorn tried to flush his cars down the toilet and yesterday he found out he really really likes chicken taquitos. But anything before that? I can't remember - it's like I'm an amateur all over again.

and 2 ways it's just the same. . .

2. Registering is just as fun. I didn't think it would be; I mean, we have what seems to be every gadget and device ever made for babies and toddlers. But it still was fun to take the scan guy and go crazy. . . which is probably why we have registries at three different places with almost 70 things on each! So what if over half of those are diapers, wipes and butt cream? You need what you need! And since we borrowed most of our stuff from friends who are also having babies again, well, there still is alot we need - more than we thought!

1. The whole pregnancy thing is still just as cool.  Think about it - I am making a baby. I built it. Created it. With nothing but the grace of God, a little help from the Hubs and a pre-natal vitamin a day. How cool is that? In just a few months, Peanut is coming out, kicking and hollering, with a heart that wasn't there 10 months ago, bones that have been painstakingly stitched together while I slept and a temperament and manner that is all his/her own. I may be crafty and creative, but these babies are by far the coolest and most intricate things I have ever made. And that is still pretty frickin' cool that I get to do it.

Tuesday, May 3, 2011

Sunny Days, Sweepin' the Clouds Away. . . . .

Lately we have been going on nightly walks around our neighborhood. It's a good time of year in Phoenix; it's still light at 7 pm, but the breeze begins to blow in and the sun isn't quite so hot. We are taking advantage of it while it lasts.

Not to mention, Bjorn has discovered that he loves to walk the dog, and how can you resist the little scrunched-up face of my two year old saying "Zah-za*? Pleeeeeeasssse? Walk. Walk Zah-za."

So he walks "Zah-za".

Or the Dog walks Bjorn. Really, our walks are spent yelling "Whooooa. Sit. Stop. Whooooa. Wait. Not in the street! No. Back. Whoooooa." to one or the other of them.

And now Bjorn has gotten in on the yelling.

"Whoooaaa." he shouts as she starts to pick up speed (and he's racing behind her, gripping the leash).

"Zah-za. Wait. Back." as she wants to trapse through a neighbor's yard.

"Sesse**. No. No Sesse Zah-za."

Wait, what was that?! Sesse?! Did he just say "No Sesse" to the Dog?

Yes, that's right, he did. Because he now associates any kind of Street with. . . . you guessed it, Sesame Street. He doesn't call it the road, or the street or danger danger. Nope. He calls it Sesse. As in, "Zah-za, No Sesse". (Don't go out in the street.) Or, "Daddy, Ball Sesse" (Daddy, My ball went in the street.)

Apparently, we live on Sesame Street. Welcome to my neighborhood!

*My dog's name is Hansa. I don't really ever care if he gets her name right, because it is just too dang cute to hear him say 'Zah-za'. I'm already trying to get him to say the name of my (hopeful) future dog that I can someday (soon) convince the Hubs we have the time, energy and patience for . . . . . and her name will be Schnebly. You should hear Bjorn butcher that name!!
**From the first word in the morning 'til we lay him down at night, it is Sesse this or Sesse that. The kid is obsessed with Sesame Street.