Time Warp

Wow, I really can't believe it has been almost two months since I last updated. Where does the time go?.... Even though that was supposed to be a rhetorical question, I'm going to answer it. It went to a million diaper changes, bottle feedings, crying fits, poop extractions, medicine dispensing, and general Baby R care. I'm happy to report that things have gotten better with the little guy and continue to get better bit by bit. He hit 3 months and the colic has finally gone away - THANK GOD - and surprise, surprise, he's finally learning how to poop on his own!!! Granted he does it a little too well now (on average 8-10 poopy diapers from the time he wakes up in the morning to bedtime and then sometimes 1 or 2 overnight), but I'll take what I can get. He goes to a pediatric GI at the end of next month so we'll see what he has to say. He's still on the Nutramigen for now and also Zantac, which is working wonders. He goes for a well baby checkup the 23rd and I think we're going to discuss trying him back on regular formula, but I'm a tad nervous to mess up the progress we've made. It's been a looooong road, trust me.

As far as my mental state goes, I'm also happy to report that it's getting better too. When you're baby finally kicks his 3-4 hour nightly screaming habit, you feel like a completely different person. Let me just throw it out there though that I totally get why Britney Spears shaved her head. Her baby probably wouldn't ever shut up either. lol. I got a part-time job at a kids' clothing store which I love b/c it gets me out of the house and around other adults. Plus, not gonna lie, I loooove that discount. My babies are stylin' and profilin' at 25% off the normal retail price.

I really can't believe Christmas is in 2.5 weeks. Even though I felt like I was pregnant for forever, this year has gone by rather quickly. Baby R will be 4 months on the 23rd already and my sweet (well, most of the time anyways) R turns 2 in a few months. It must be true that the older you get, the faster time goes. I will 27 on the 27th and I just can't wrap my mind around that. I feel so old. And on that sour note, I better get going. Baby is up from his nap and I need to get him before the squealing wakes up his sister.

Don't tell Baby R...

that I'm on the computer. If he knows I'm trying to do something somewhat productive, he'll wake up and want to be held.


I haven't updated in a while. I just haven't had time. Poor Baby R is still having problems. Since the last time I wrote, we have been in the ped's office three more times, as well as the urgent care clinic twice. Here is as brief a synopsis as I can give: His pediatrician suspected that Baby R had a milk protein allergy and switched his formula to Nutramigen ($26 a 12 oz can. Ugh.). In the meantime, the antibiotic he was on for his toe started messing with his stomach and giving him explosive diarrhea. The yeast in the meds gave him thrush and in turn a horrible yeast diaper rash. He was then put on meds for that. When we were back in the peds office for the rash, his doctor took him off the antibiotic and instead gave him cream for his toes and also a cream for his rash. She told me to give it 7 days for the antibiotic to completely get of his system. Last weekend his poo was finally returning to normal, but he was back to the grunting and extreme fussiness. I took him BACK into the doctor last Monday and he was diagnosed with an ear infection. So just when his belly was finally recovering, he gets stuck on another antibiotic which inevitably did the same thing as the prior RX. His thrush also wasn't completely gone so he was prescribed a different medicine for that, but luckily it would cover both the thrush and the yeast rash that was probably going to come back from being on the amoxicillan. She also checked his rear and he's still having the anal spasms so back to the dilator four times a day. I feel so bad for the little guy. His ped asked me if he smiled very much at me. I told her occasionally, but that I wouldn't smile too much if I was in his shoes either. I am happy to report that I have been getting glimpes of what I think my baby will be like when everything is cleared up. He has been very smiley and talkative at times the last week. I can't wait until that's the norm.

Too bad, so sad, buh-bye nads

Just got back from the ped's office with Baby R. Yes, again. I noticed over the weekend that his big toe was red and looked as though it was maybe infected. Sure enough, it is. My newborn has ingrown toenails. On both big toes. Seriously. He's on an antibiotic for 10 days to clear that up and I'm also supposed to put his feet in warm water and push his nails back right after. So now I'm not only doing poo removal duty 4 times a day, I also have to soak his piggies 2-4 times a day. I feel so bad for the little guy. He's going to grow into the scrawny asthmatic kid with glasses, braces, and a rescue inhaler. I swear if I could find the time to go crazy, I'd pencil it in.


It is for this reason that I am very glad I took the initiative yesterday to call and schedule DH a consult with a urologist for a vasectomy. He kept telling me he was going to do it, but time's a-ticking and I haven't seen any inclination from him that he was actually go to do so so I took matters into my own hands. I think he was just being a big chicken. I sent him the news via text message after getting off the phone with the doctor's office. He goes in a few weeks for the consult and then will probably get the procedure done in November or December. I guess it'll either be something to be grateful for on Thanksgiving or a great Christmas gift. Either way, snippity snip snip!

Is that your stomach or a braile book?

After I had R, I was pretty excited about the fact that I hardly had any stretch marks at all. What little I did have were almost unnoticable after a few months. I figured Baby R would be the same. Sadly, this is sooo not the case. I was getting dressed yesterday afternoon and caught a glimpse of my belly in our full-length mirror. What.the.hell. My stomach looks like a frickin' topographical map. If you look really close, I swear you can see the Rocky Mountains. I only gained 10 lbs the entire pregnancy so I find this extremely unfair. You'd think -- or at least I did -- that since I was only un-pregnant for 10 months, my stomach wouldn't have regained it elasticity anyways so I shouldn't have gotten any stretch marks, let alone enough to make it feel like the braile menu at McDonald's. Right?? Right.

Not that it really matters too much, I just felt like complaining about it. I'm not off flashing my stomach around to people - I wouldn't want to expose anyone else to the horror - and if DH doesn't like it, well then, good. Maybe it means I won't have to put out.

Mommy drinks because I cry

Ever see those onesies with that splashed across the front? Always used to think they were so trashy, but now I can identify. If I had time to drink, I would definitely be hittin' up the bottle. Hard.

Okay, I have seriously been trying to write this blog (or at a least a variation of it) for days now. I feel like I'm on a one-way trip to Crazy. Behind the wheel is my newborn. Baby R - who turned one month yesterday, can you believe it?? - is the neediest little shite I have ever met. Besides the fact that he's a baby, he's so damn cute I can't be mad at him, but good Lord. Waaay different from his sister. I literally can't put him down and he still won't sleep unless he's held. My back is jacked up as all hell from "sleeping" (again I put that in quotes because I'm not sure what I get qualifies) with him on the couch in my arms. The day he turns 18 I think I'll just stick a chiropractic bill in his birthday card. Happy Birthday! You owe your decrepit mother money.

Tuesday he had his 4 week checkup. That was an experience. The night before he had screamed his little head for 4.5 hours. Yes. Hours. If my friend hadn't been here with me (DH had class), I may have just curled up into the fetal position and cried right along with him. But I digress. Back to the appointment. Little squirt weighs 8 lbs, 9 oz now and is 21.25 inches long. Doing well in that aspect. I mentioned to his pediatrican the fact that he was grunts all the time and always seems to have poo issues. One rectal exam later - poor, poor Baby R - and he was diagnosed with anal spasms.... I'll just let that digest for a minute ..... Yeah, my first thought was WTF too. If somebody's kid was going to have shit problems, of course it had to one of mine. I feel so bad for the little guy though. Apparently instead of baring down when he has to go, he clinches his little butt. Then, as if the rectal exam wasn't bad enough, they had a pediatric surgeon's nurse come to the room to instruct me in how to use this contraption called a dilator. It's this teeny tiny instrument that we - or really I because DH will have no part in the "butt plug" as he refers to it - have to lube up and put in his rear 3 times a day to help train his body to poop. It's about as pleasant as it sounds, trust me. If it'll help him out though, so be it. Gotta love his doctor though. She made sure to tell me to inform DH that using the dilator "won't mean Baby R will like things in his butt later in life". I about peed my leg at that one. She also said we may have to continue doing it for a few weeks or a few months. I'm hoping for the few weeks. Last night he was up from 2:00-2:30 grunting and crying so there I am, tired as can be, trying to assist him with his bowel issues. Nothing like a 3am poop extraction. That's a mother's love. *sigh* All I can do is laugh it off.


And just in case that didn't make the trip to the ped's office exciting enough, my dear toddler decided to act like the spawn of Satan and throw a fit the entire effing time we were in the exam room. She was not a happy camper that the baby was getting all the attention. When it became apparent that everyone was not focused on her, she decided she was done with the whole thing. She kept telling me "Go bye bye" and then trying to open the door. When I'd tell her no, she'd oh-so-nicely fling herself to the ground and start shrieking. The doctor told me to just ignore her, that she saw it a lot in kids that were new to the whole sibling thing. Easier said than done. I'm trying to listen to the directions on how to use the dilator -- definitely something I want to pay close attention to for the poor baby's sake -- and R picks up a Little Tykes chair and throws it. Like something out of the damn WWF, I swear. I was never so ready to leave that doctor's office. See why I could use a drink or twelve???

Well I think I am coming to terms with the whole family-of-four thing finally. Starting to get into a groove and a routine. Or at least as much of a routine as is possible with a newborn. I can't believe Baby R is already 2 and a half weeks old! Time flies when you don't sleep I guess. R has really taken to her big sister role, although it's mostly to shush everyone when they walk in the room, regardless of whether baby is sleeping or not, and to try to shove a pacifier in his mouth, regardless of whether he wants it. When he cries she'll attempt to stuff his bottle into his mouth too, although I'm not sure if it's because she is trying to help him or make him shut up. Sometimes she gets it in there and other times he winds up with milk on his forehead or up his nose, but it's the thought that counts.


I'm happy to report there has been no more poop where it shouldn't be (i.e safely in diapers), but I did step in cat puke this morning and the little girl I babysit peed on my living room carpet (occupational hazard. haha) so I guess I just can't win.


Right now everyone is napping. Except me of course. I know if I shut my eyes, I wouldn't want to wake up for days. My only major complaint with Baby R is the fact that he will only sleep if he he is held or snuggled. I have been "sleeping" (if you can even call it that) on the couch, sitting up with him in my arms. Thank God for the Boppy or I'd lose feeling in my arms and probably never regain it. My back is killing me, but at least I am getting something that resembles snoozing every few hours. I am keeping my fingers (and toes and anything else that crosses) crossed that he gets into a better sleep pattern soon and will sleep in his bassinet for longer than 20 minutes with screaming like a stuck pig.

I hear R stirring from her nap so I better go. My brief reprieve from Noggin is over. Time for some more Dora the Explorer.

Adventures in babyland

A 24-hour milk bar: That's what I feel like, an all night freaking diner. My little man never wants to breastfeed unless it's the middle of the night. I don't get it. During daylight hours he rarely will latch on so I have to pump or supplement with formula, but as soon as the sun goes down... whoa buddy. I might as well put blinking neon lights on both nipples. I guess Baby R just likes his boobies at night - I wonder what the likelyhood will be that he will frequent strip clubs when he's older?


And now for a poop story (or two) since it's been a while since I last grossed other people out with one. I bought R some Sesame Street bubble bath last week and she thinks it's the greatest thing ever. Can't say I blame her. Bubble baths are pretty fabulous. But I digress. Last night during her bath, I took the opportunity to let her play for a few minutes after she was washed while I changed out my nursing pads and whatnot. She passed some gas and then some more and then informed me, "poop poop". I looked and didn't see anything so I told her that no, she'd just tooted. I grabbed her towel to get her out and again she tells me "poop poop". I turn around and out comes her little hand from admist the bubbles and she definitely has a fistful of poo in it. Uuuuuuugggggh. I got it and her all cleaned up and sanitized the hell out of our tub, but still. Lesson learned. She told me she was going and I didn't believe her.


As if that wasn't, um, crappy enough (har har), I took Baby R to bed with me last night (he won't sleep unless he's held... *sigh*) and after he'd gone to sleep, put him in his Boppy. I'd just started to drift off into the nice deep sleep where I'm drooling on my pillow when he wakes up and starts fussing. I could hear and smell him farting, but I wasn't too concerned because my newborn has some of the rankest gas I have ever had the displeasure of being downwind of in my entire life. When he was done with this grunting and pffft'ing, I went to pick him up.... and stuck my hand in a big wet pile of runny shit. Seriously. Could I not get a break???? I yelled for DH who was luckily still up watching TV and he came in the room to help minimize the damage. It was all over our sheets, Baby R's Boppy, his pajamas, him, me. It was effing disgusting to say the least. I wound up having to give him a bath at 1am. The joys of parenthood never end, I swear.

So today's goal is not having to clean up any poo where it's not supposed to be. So far so good. Let's hope the trend continutes.....

Four's Company

We are officially a family of four now. Finally! Last Sunday, the 23rd of August, we welcomed Baby R into the world. I cannot believe he is already a week old. I waited so long for him to get here and now time is just flying by. Makes me weepy. Although that could just be the hormones still a-ragin'.


His birth story, more for my own memory, than for entertainment:

Got to the hospital at 7am as instructed. Checked in, walked (or rather rode the elevator) up to L&D, and got all settled in. The nurse jabbed the hell outta me to get an IV in - still have a bruise from where my vein rolled and she kept moving the needle around trying to locate it - but finally after ten minutes or so, got it in my hand and started me on a bag of fluids. I laid in the bed watching that drip, drip, drip and waiting for the go-ahead from Dr. K to start the pitocen. Apparently it was everybody-have-your-baby day there because they were insanely busy. The pitocen was finally started a little before 9:30 and I was pretty encouraged by the fact that I immediately started having strong contractions that were 3 minutes apart. Silly me thought that that meant I'd have a speedy delivery. Yeah, not quite. When they started the pit, the resident who checked me told me I was dilated to a 1 and 70% effaced. Dr. K had told me 5 days prior I was at a 1.5 so how I could dilate backwards is beyond me. Different finger sizes I suppose. Anyhoo, they didn't check me again for over 4 hours and at that point, I was only at a 3. WTF? The contractions were hurtin' like a mofo and I'd only dilated 2 cm in that time frame? I figured eff it and got my epidural around 1:15. I was a happy camper after that of course. Watched TV, read, took a nap, and spent too much time on Facebook. Gotta love WiFi. The nurses kept telling me that the doctor would be in to break my water soon and that I was next on the list, but I kept getting bumped down on the so-called list every time somebody else decided to push. They didn't want to break it and have my labor progress so quickly that there was no doctor to deliver the baby. FINALLY around 5:30 the resident came in and ruptured my membranes. I was at a 6 and 90% effaced at that point and that is where I stayed for what felt like frickin' forever. At one point, the nurses and Dr. K came running in and made me flip to my left side. I was in a weird continous contraction pattern and Baby R didn't like it. His heart rate dropped and of course, completely scared the crap outta me. R did the same thing during her birth and I was so hoping I wouldn't have to go through it again. Anyways, they turned the pit off, gave me a shot to stop the contractions, and had me wear an oxygen mask for about 20 minutes. Thankfully Baby R recovered quickly and when they came to check me again a bit later, I had progressed to an 8 without the meds. They went ahead and slowly restarted the pitocen and again we played the waiting game. Finally a little after 9:00, I started feeling some pressure. I called the nurse in, she checked me - complete, yay!! - and called for the doctor. Things went really fast then. The little bit of pressure went to holy-crap-hold-out-your-hands-I-can't-not-push and after 5 pushes and 5 minutes, Baby R was here!


Official stats:

Born at 9:20 pm
Weight 6 lbs, 10 oz
Length 19.5 inches



He looks a lot like his daddy, namely with the dark hair. No redhead this time. He is absolutely gorgeous and we love our little man. R is starting to warm up to him too and likes to give him kisses and help me with him. More on that later though, DH offered to take a feeding shift so I'm off to soak in the tub. Gotta seize and savor those rare moments of me time.

T-Minus 2 days

I cannot believe that tomorrow will be my last full day of ever be pregnant* (see bottom). It's kind of bittersweet. As is the case with pregnancy, I feel like I have been getting the life sucked out of me for FOREVER, but still have that wow-it's-already-here bewilderment. While I have complained during quite a bit - okay pretty much all - of the past 39 weeks, there is still parts of being up the duff I quite enjoy and will actually miss:


~Feeling the baby kick and move.

~Having an excuse to go through a bag of mini 3 Muskateers every week.

~Being told to "take it easy" every once in a while instead of being expected to have 6 hands, 4 sets of eyes, an endless supply of energy, and ample amounts of free time to cook, clean, and keep things in order.

~An excuse to nap.

~How nice people can randomly be to pregnant women. I've had my empty shopping cart taken back to the cart corral for me, offers to pick up heavy things in stores, and last week a waitress brought us a huge dessert just because I was prego and R is so cute.

~My huge prego boobs. When they're not leaking of course.

I blogged something very similar right before R was born and I obviously loved those aspects enough to allow myself to get knocked up again. All the pain and discomfort and sporatic gagging is well worth it and I cannot wait to meet our little guy on Sunday. Only 2 days to go!



*This is the plan. Don't laugh. We are done having kids.**


**Unless of course my husband doesn't follow through on his promise to get a vasectomy and I reneg on my threat of snipped-or-celibacy. Even then it would be an accident. But I swear we're done!

Eviction Notice

Dear Baby R:


This letter is to inform you that unless you choose to do so on your accord, you will be removed from the premises (i.e. my womb) this Sunday, August the 23rd. While I have enjoyed many of the experiences we've had during your stay - who could forget passing out at the county fair? - I feel that the time is right for you to come into the big world. Please consider this your official notice.


Love, Mommy


That's right people - I'M BEING INDUCED! Let me just say it again: I'm being induced! Never have I left a doctor's appointment with such a spring in my waddle. I went to my 38 week checkup this morning (obviously) and the first thing the nurse tells me is that my ob is on call this weekend and would probably induce me if I wanted. Um, YES! When my doc came in the room, he offered and I took him up on it. He is moving out of state and his last day is next Friday so he said he wanted to make sure we got the baby out before he left. I don't care what the reasoning, I was just focused on the fact that I won't be pregnant for much longer! I have to be at the hospital at 7am Sunday morning, unless the little man decides he wants to come on his own before then. My body is actually cooperating. I am dilated to 1.5 cm now (progressed over a whole cm in 6 days) and am almost all the way thinned out. Dr. K also said he could feel Baby R's head. Not surprising since I feel like if I sneeze, he'll fall out. I'm surprised he didn't reach out and give the doctor a high five.


So now the countdown begins!!!!

No rest for the weary

First off, in case you hadn't guessed, I'm still with child. 13 days 'til my due date though. He has to come out at some point right?? *sigh*


Yesterday morning , after almost 18 months of being a parent, my husband uttered the beautiful words I have been begging to hear every morning when R starts babbling for a year and a half: "You stay in bed, I'll get up with her." I swear I almost wept tears of joy. I happily rolled back over (as well as I can roll anyways) and snuggled down into my mountain of pillows. I could hear DH talking to R, telling her to go into the kitchen while he got her some breakfast. I hear her giggle. I hear her little footsteps go running out of her room, into the hallway... and then into our bedroom. I kept my eyes shut, hoping she would turn around and leave, but no such luck. Instead she came up to me, nose to nose, and says "what you doin?!?" I started laughing because it's her newest thing to do and she says it with this funny little high pitched tone, which I know she picked up from me doing the excited Mommy voice to her. You moms know what I'm talking about. DH came in and told her Mommy was sleeping and to leave me alone, but she would have none of it. She kept coming and pulling on my hand. I'd tell her I was coming, she'd run out of the room, and then promptly come right back to see if I really was coming. Eventually I had to. So no sleeping in yet again. But I guess it's the thought that counts, right?

Eff you too, cervix

Things on my shit list today:


* My ob. Sure the rational part of me understands that he had to go perform emergency surgery this afternoon, but the less-rational pregnant crazy part of me is really irritated I had to see a different doctor. One who kept me waiting pantsless in a hot ass room for over 35 minutes. By the time he came in, my rear was stuck to the paper on the table. The only thing that made it better was that the guy sounded exactly like Borat.


* My cervix. Alllll those contractions and I'm only 40% effaced and according to the Borat, "maybe 1/2 cm" dilated. What. the. hell. I'm going to be pregnant forever. Like a damn elephant - 2 years gestational period. Grrrrr!!!


* Starbucks. The aforementioned #2 problem has completely done a 180 and now I'm back to needing coffee. After my appointment, I chucked out $4 for a decaf caramel mocha, only to come home and have the lid pop off, causing me to drop it and spill about $2.35 of it on my fricking carpet.

* The pressure of the baby being so low. This is major overshare, but the only way to fully get across the level of uncomfortableness (is that even a word...?) I'm experiencing: It's as if there is so much weight pushing "down there", I feel like my b'hole is a damn wind tunnel. Seriously. I told DH last night that if I farted, it'd probably whistle. You may be horrified I told my husband that, but he responded by asking if he could yell into it to see if it would echo. It's true what they say - there really is somebody out there for everyone. Perfect match. haha.

Just kidding, Mom!

Yesterday evening the ol' Braxton Hicks started in and were pretty constant throughout the night. About 10:45ish, I was relaxing in the tub and I started to have some cramping along with the tight belly feeling. It happened a few more times and each time was a little more intense, with the pain spreading around to my back. Not wanting to excite DH for no reason, I didn't mention anything and just waited to see what would happen. The contractions kept getting stronger, more consistent, and longer. I attempted to go to sleep, but they kept me awake. By 12:30, I was up walking the house, and they were 6-8 minutes apart and lasting 30-45 seconds each. I really thought I would wind up going to L&D at some point in the night. But then, just as randomly as they'd started, they stopped. I kept laying there staring at the clock, thinking Seriously?! It's been 6 minutes. 7. 8 minutes now. 9. 10. and then it was 25 and I'd had no more. I fell asleep around 1:45 and while I did get woken up at 2:30 with a pretty strong one, that was the end of my contractions. So much for being in labor. While I expect some false alarms (joys of pregnancy, whoooo), I just wish it wouldn't have occurred while I was trying to sleep! So yeah. I'm still pregnant. I just hope I don't have false labor for the next three weeks. Tomorrow I have my 37 week checkup and I FINALLY get my internal check. Here's hoping for a few centimeters!

I'm officially full term!

I hit the 37 week mark yesterday, which means I'm officially considered full-term. *throws confetti* Whoooooo! I have been telling Baby R he can exit the womb at any time now, but so far it's not working. I think I may be going soon and not just because duh, I'm due in 3 weeks either. I could just be looking for signs and convincing myself that everything is lining up, but still. I have been having Braxton Hicks contractions pretty regularly since Friday and have had some real contractions too. Friday night and last night I got woken up from some pretty intense ones. Of course nothing consistent but some contractions are better than none, right? I also think I started losing my plug yesterday. With R, it didn't come out in one glob (that sounds so gross, sorry all you non-pregnant people), but in bits and I saw some yesterday afternoon during one of my 500 bathroom trips. My stomach was upset last night and today I just feel... blah. Pleasepleaseplease Powers that Be, make this mean my little man is coming soon!


On the R front, my little shit has absolutely no idea how her life is about to change. She will be 18 months old here in about 2 weeks. I can't believe my little baby is already so old. She's doing so much and I can already tell we are going to have our hands full. Stubborn as a freaking mule and she's a stereotypical redhead - feisty as all hell. I am interested - and okay, slightly scared - to see how she reacts to having a little brother. God help us.
She got her first haircut the other night. It was only a bang trim, but still the first time scissors have touched that pretty head of hair. I don't know how I feel about them; I'm not a bang person to begin with. If they don't get swooped to the side, she looks like a long-lost member of The Beatles. Luckily she has her daddy's amazing ability to quick-grow hair so they should be hanging in her eyes again in no time. Hopefully by then, she will have gotten over her obsession of pulling out her ponytail holders and I'll be able to keep it pulled back without the bangs.

Well. This was kind of boring. But thus is my life. Keep your fingers crossed that Baby R will be gracing us with his presence here in a few days....

Okay men, I get it now

Oh my Lord, I am SO uncomfortable!!!! Baby has dropped so far that my stomach is hanging down and touching my thighs. It's driving me INSANE. If this is how men feel when their balls stick to their legs, then I completely forgive them for constantly adjusting....

Just a quick update...

Still pregnant. Boob no longer leaking. One outta two ain't bad.


I had to share this story I found amusing before I forget it (mom mush; it happens): A few weeks ago I bought myself a new loofah for the shower. R was with me when I got it of course and was obsessed with playing with it in the shopping cart. When I gave her a bath that night, she pointed up to it in our shower caddy band and told me "I want that". I was tired and not in the mood to argue (because really, arguing with a 17 month old is pointless) so I gave in, put her body wash on it and let her have at it. It became her loofah after that. I had to use my old one which I thankfully had not yet pitched. We went to Wal-Mart on Friday and I found a toddler-sized one in the baby section. I made a big deal out letting R choose which color she wanted and she sat clutching it in the cart, happy as a clam. When I got it out that evening during bathtime, she eyed it somewhat suspiciously. I lathered it up with soap and handed it to her. That child looked down at it, looked at me like I was nuts, tossed it over her shoulder, and then pointed up at MY loofah and told me, "I want that!". I tried a few more times - unsuccessfully mind you - before finally just giving her mine. My old one was grimy so I chucked it and now the tot is using one as big as her head while I have one the size of the palm of my hand. Toddler 1, Mommy 0.


Better run. I have to go to the ob in an hour and I'm still in my pajamas. I even made a personal goal last night to have pants on by noon today too. Fail!

Pregnancy Books - The Lost Chapters

I swear I'm going to write a pregnancy book. What to REALLY Expect When You're Expecting. This post is going to be overshare/TMI overload so stop reading now if you don't want to hear about bodily fluids.


If you're still reading after that disclaimer, here we go....

Last night my back was killing me so I decided to take a warm bath - and okay, I also hadn't washed my hair in three days and didn't want to go out in public today looking like a scrub - to relax. Before I could though, my latest issue struck again. To put it somewhat nicely, let's just say baby #2 keeps making me go #2. Ever since this weekend, it's been numerous times per day. It's really starting to annoy me. I spent the first 8 months of pregnancy driving to Starbucks every 4 days for an iced mocha to keep things somewhat regular (sounds crazy, but if you're having issues, try coffee!) and now.... well, let's just say I've gone more in 3 days than I have in the last 3 months combined. And that's no shit. Pun intended.

After that excitement was over, I got in my bubble bath, leaned back, put my arms down, and then felt a trickle. I look down and my damn boob is leaking milk. WTF?? I'm not due for 32 more days, I hope to God I don't have a drippy faucet for a nipple the next 4 and a half weeks. It really grossed me out. I know it's nature and blah blah blah, insert breastfeeding propaganda here, but ew. I don't even know if I'm going to bf at all with this baby, solely because I'm still trying to figure out the logistics of caring for an 18 month old and the 2 year old I babysit whilst having a barracuda attached to my teat. Plus there's the pumping and the pain and my biggest pet peeve - the damn leaking boobs! I had to dress like a freaking onion - in layers - when R was a baby because any time we went out in public, it was inevitable that I was going to need a cardigan to cover up the milk rings that sprouted about 30 minutes into our journey. See why I don't want to have to deal with them leaking before I've even birthed my child??? I can't wear a cardigan in August!


As if all of that wasn't enough, I made tacos for dinner last night and as delicious as they were (and ohhh were they nummy), I wound up with some major heartburn. Just as I'm inspecting the milk running forth from my boobie, I burp, puke in my mouth, and then have it go up my nose and run out. Effing disgusting. The whole time all of this is occurring (which is within a 15 minute span thankyouverymuch), there is a Week by Week pregnancy book sitting on the side of the tub staring at me. I picked it up and flipped to 35 weeks. There is a small blurb about possible milk production and increased bowels, but they make it sound like it's nothing, and there's nothing in there about puking out your nose. Bastards. I need to check. I bet a man wrote that book....c

Hmm of the day

How in the hell do I get horrible heartburn from Honey Bunches of Oats tonight, but last night ate skillet queso and chicken fajita quesadillas from Chili's and was perfectly fine?? I suspect it is because my baby is a quarter Mexican.....

Aw crap. Literally.

Just because this is my luck:

Went swimming at my parents' this afternoon with R. Realized she was out of swim diapers at the last minute. Figured she'd be okay in just her swim bottoms, rather than making her wear a regular diaper that would absorb 25 lbs of water. She's fine the entire 2 hours we swim, get her out, sit her on my lap to dry her off and hear Pfffffftttttttttt. I look down the back of her bottoms and yeah. Poop. And we're not talking very solid here. My mom looks over and goes, "You have shit running down your leg." Very helpful, Mom.

Just another day in paradise!

Over an hour later and $15 poorer...

The pediatrician tells me R possibly has something viral, but is definitely cutting some more teeth. Wow, thanks for your professional medical diagnosis. Glad I sat in your waiting room for 30 minutes and then an exam room for 45 more while my child ran around like a banshee, bashed her head no less three times, and I about died of a heat stroke. He suggested Benadryl at bedtime to help with some post-nasal drip so I gave her that last night with a shot of Motrin and it did the trick. She did wake up at 3:30 when I got up to go to the bathroom, but it was better than nothing.

DH wound up on my shit list after that incident though. As I was lying in bed, waiting to see if she would just whine/cry it out like I was hoping, he leans over in my face and hisses, "If you hadn't gone to the bathroom, she wouldn't be awake. Get a bigger bladder or some diapers." I swear I almost sucker punched him in his throat. Instead I told him if he was going to make dumbass suggestions to go sleep on the couch. So he did. And R and I slept in until 9am this morning. Ahhhhh. Slumber at last.

Zombie Mom

I really think my child harbors ill feelings for me throughout the day and then inacts her revenge by not letting me sleep at night. I'm on Day 4 of getting less than three hours of sleep a night and it is keeeeling me. Unlike R, I don't get the luxury of taking a four hour nap to make up for the nightly lack of shut eye. It started in around 12:30 last night. I'd just hit that nice part of slumber where I was drooling on one of my six pillows and the whining began. I turned down the monitor, thinking/hoping/praying/begging she would just roll over and go back to sleep, but noooo. When I didn't immediately come fetch her from the confines of her crib, she upgraded to full-fledged crying, which then turned into the hysterical bawling that started to border on the edge of hyperventilating. DH was still awake watching TV, so you'd think he'd hear all the commotion and just go get her. But no, he has a penis and therefore is able to tune these things out. Instead I had to slowly roll my aching pregnant body out of bed - and when I say roll, I mean that literally. My hips hurt so bad that I just kind of have to fling myself over the edge and hope I land on my feet- to go to her room. I brought her into bed with me and then didn't doze off again until almost 3:00. I was up again at 3:33 when the whimpering commenced. She was due a dose of Motrin at that point so once again I fling myself out of bed and waddle/hobble like a pregnant zombie to the kitchen and back to get her some. Lemme tell ya, trying to get that spoon in her mouth was like trying to force feed a rabid dog. She was having no part of it. I thought I'd gotten a good amount of it down her throat, but as the fussing continued and 4:00 turned into 5:00 and 5:00 turned into daylight, it became apparent that most of it wound up in her hair. When my alarm went off at 7:00 and I was still laying there hoping to fall asleep, R sits up, says "Hiiiiii Mama!" and it's then I notice my 17 month old is rocking her very own Something about Mary 'do, courtesy of what I guesstimated to be about the whole damn teaspoon of Children's Motrin. *sigh* I'm taking her to the ped's this afternoon to see if there's a medical reason why she's moaning all night long, or if really is just because she's mad at me for not letting her eat ColorWonder markers.


Oh, before it slips my mind... My ob appointment yesterday: Yeah, still pregnant. Not much else to report. The best part is that they didn't even wind up doing the stupid Strep B test so I spent all that time in the bathroom the other night for NOTHING. The office's computer system keeps putting my due date at the 23rd instead of the 30th so they had me at 35 weeks instead of 34. It gets corrected every time I go in, but that's technology for ya I suppose. Either way, I won't be getting that test until next week. It also means that I didn't get an internal check to see if I was dilated at all. I was pretty bummed about and told my doctor as much so as a consolation of some sorts, he says to me, "Well, you've definitely dropped. You're more rectangular shaped now." Gee, thanks. I start going weekly from now on though and I get an ultrasound next week so at least I have that to look forward to. In the meantime, not much else I can do but take it day by day - or on days like today, minute by minute.

Overshare of the day

I was sitting in the tub last night, trying to relax and wound up reading a baby book. I was looking all throughout the 34 week section trying to find something that would give me reassurance that I will not, as I fear, be pregnant forever and that maybe, just maybe, this baby will make his grand appearance in the world a few weeks early. It's wishful thinking, I know, and really all I came out of the chapter with was the assurance that what I have been feeling isn't contractions after all, but only false labor. Apparently it's very common with your 2nd pregnancy. Yippie.

As if that wasn't depressing enough, I very nicely asked DH if he would be so kind as to help me... ahem, tidy up the baby area (the baby belly blocks my view) since I have an ob appointment this morning and they have to do a swab of the aforementioned region. I figured it was the least he could do, considering he's the one who got me into this predicament. His reaction? "Are you shitting me??" He then laughed and left to go buy a 12 pack. I decided that his assistance would not be required, as it was probably in my best interest not to mix a razor and alcohol. I stubbornly dragged a full-length mirror into the bathroom and after many tears, many dropped f-bombs, and 55 minutes, I emerged feeling somewhat presentable to go the doctor. It may seem odd, but us knocked-up chicks don't have much dignity left by this point in our pregnancy (and the shred that is left will be gone after labor) so it's really the little things that count.

R was up again last night whimpering for hours. I wound up turning off the monitor and bringing her to bed with us because it's not like I was sleeping anyways with her cries echoing in surround sound around our bedroom. I really think she is cutting her 2nd set of molars. Or at least I hope that's the issue. The whimpering continued until the Motrin I gave her kicked in, and I was laying there staring at the clock on the ceiling (I got a projection alarm clock for Mother's Day. Don't ask.), tired as hell, I had the sudden realization that OHMIGOD, WE'RE GOING TO HAVE A NEWBORN SOON. Now you would think that this would have dawned on me the moment I peed on a stick and saw the heart-stopping PREGANT pop up in all it's oh-shit glory, but no. From the get go, all I've wanted is for this pregnancy to hurry itself up. First trimester, go away fast, I'm sick of sporatically gagging and feeling like a zombie. Second trimester, get over with, I want to know what we're having. Third trimester, get your ass over with, this thing is sucking the life out of me, I can't breathe, I can't eat, and I'm constantly effing hot. I don't think I ever truly grasped the concept of having another new life to care for, especially now that R is in her Toddler Tantrum mode. I nearly had a panic attack right then - 4:24 am, laying on my six pillows with a 17 month old's foot in my jugular. I still need to process it all. More on that revelation later though, as I'm off to the doctor. Let's hope I've started to dilate. <----- See? Still trying to hurry it along....