Well, there was something I wanted to blog about...

Every night driving home from work I think of like 5 things to blog about the next day. And I swear to you by the time I get home, get Evie in the house, deal with her "I'm home and tired and haven't seen you ALL day" drama, and get 3 seconds to try and write those ideas down, I can't remember a single one. Ugh.

So since I can't remember what it was that I wanted to write about today (I remember it had something to do with second children...hmmm), I will just update you my doctor's visit and pregnancy progress.

I had an unplanned doctor's visit on Tuesday due to some outrageously high blood pressure. Well high for me. My blood pressure has been a consistent 104/62 (something around there at least) throughout the pregnancy. Its so low the nurses have been amazed and I've been secretly proud. I mean, how many people gain a ton of weight and carry an extra person around with them all while maintaining enviable blood pressure? Not many. In fact, your blood pressure is expected to increase during pregnancy. Especially since your blood volume increases by at least 50% and your heart is responsible for getting oxygen and nutrients to two people rather than its previous one. So, my blood pressure has been stellar. The nurses always compliment me on it. I'm proud.

Then last Friday I started getting this excruciating headache. My eyes were watering, my vision started to blur. At one point I honestly couldn't see out of my left eye. I thought, hmmmm, this might not be good. I did take a Tylenol and vowed to have one of the paramedics check my blood pressure when I got to work. So my blood pressure was checked. Four times.

The first it was 140 something over 90 something. The second in the 130s. The third and fourth it was down to 120/60. So I monitored my blood pressure all weekend and it stayed elevated. On Monday I called my doctor and told her what was going on. She set me up an appointment for Tuesday and told me to monitor it through the day and if I were to get anymore headaches I needed to come in. Went to the doctor Tuesday and while my blood pressure was still elevated there was only a small amount of protein in my urine so that ruled out preeclampsia.

Preeclampsia is the fancy word for hypertension, or high blood pressure, during pregnancy. It's considered very dangerous for both mom and baby as the high blood pressure taxes both and puts an especially heavy toll on the mom's already overworked systems. It can lead to seizures and death.

So, since neither seizures nor death sound like fun to me I was relieved that neither was in my immediate future. The doctor did tell me to continue to monitor my blood pressure and to call if it went way up again or I had anymore headaches.

Also got my cervix checked again. (On a side note: have you ever thought about the fact that we talk about parts of our bodies during pregnancy that would be SUPER inappropriate and gross to talk about when we aren't pregnant? I mean, people ask you about them. Like, hey, you dilated yet? Feeling lots of pressure? Not just doctor people. But like, people at work. Random people. Family members. Guys. They all ask. And you answer them.Without thinking about the fact that you're discussing some of your most intimate girly parts. With a random dude. Just something to point out.) Having your cervix checked weekly should definitely be near the top of the list of the most wonderful parts of pregnancy. It's only about 3 times more fun as having your yearly pap smear. I mean...FUN! And if you've never had your cervix checked, I'm being sarcastic here. It hurts.

I'm about 70% effaced now but still not dilated. UGH. The doctor said my cervix was "very soft" though. And she assured me that at this point they wouldn't be worried if I went into labor. So yeah!

I'm still going next Monday for an ultrasound and another fabulous cervix check. My doctor does think that the baby might be "large." I seem to recall them using that adjective pre-ultrasound with my first daughter as well. Then it turned it "holy crap, we need to get this baby out of you" afterward. I'm kinda hoping it stays at just large, because while I love little chunky babies but at the same time I don't relish the thought of having my picture on the front of the local paper for a record-setting newborn. Simultaneously, I would really love to experience going into labor naturally and the excitement of rushing to the hospital and calling all the family. At the same time, I do really want to have this baby at about 37 weeks so it would be nice if the baby were big enough that they wouldn't want me to go past 37 weeks.

I feel like a big bundle of contradictions...I want the baby big but not too big...I want her to come early but not too early...I want to be dilating but not too much. *le sigh*

So my new shoes came yesterday and I started walking yesterday. They are as comfortable I could have dreamed them to be. For the first time in months I can walk without feeling somewhat penguiny. Yes, I waddle and I feel like a penguin when I walk. Just trust me. I do. But in these shoes, I feel like a normal human. A human that doesn't have a humongoid belly and feel like a baby might be falling out from between my legs at any moment. So I walked. Til I was out of breath because walking just felt so good.

And I've started sitting/bouncing on my exercise ball at night. Oddly enough it's one of the most comfortable things in the world to sit on. While on the ball, my hips don't hurt, my back doesn't hurt and I don't feel like the baby is falling out. It is rather blissful. I don't know whether or not it will actually help the baby get into position and help me go into labor but it is quite comfy.

So that's the latest.

It's always something...

So here I sit, ready to have a baby anytime now. And my husband calls me. Very upset. With Evie crying in the background.

*heart stops*

What happened?

Turns out that he was driving home from running an errand with Evie when he ran over some debris in the roadway and it tore a huge hole in his oil pan. It was dark and he says he just didn't see it in time. It was like a ladder or something. So he pulled over and called me, not knowing what to do. This is pretty much what I do. But its never MY car. So I do what any grown woman does...

I call my parents. Yeah, I'm 25 years old and when something breaks, I still call my parents. I'll probably still be doing that when I'm 35 years old. Hopefully I won't be breaking things by 45. So my stepdad says that we'll have to have it towed and that one of them can go get Josh and Evie.

So I call the highway patrol to take a report because Josh thinks that the ladder belongs to another vehicle parked along the road and wants to try and file a report. And then I call a tow truck. And then I call and confirm that my mom is enroute to get them. Then Josh calls back.

"Wait...I don't have my license. I'm just in pajama pants because I didn't we'd be out long."

Great. Now he wants me to call the highway patrol and cancel them because he's afraid of getting a ticket. So I call and cancel them.

At this point honestly I'm ready to pull my hair out from my husband calling and me having to call other people for him. Plus it has now hit me that we're going to be down to one car for the next week or longer. Not to mention the outrageous tow bill and repair bill. UGH. And I start thinking, if Josh is just wearing pj's, what's Evie wearing? And since the car has no oil, the engine is off and the car is getting cold. Great. Just great.

So my mom finally texted me that she was there. The tow truck was there. And they were going home. Good deal.

So, I'm not looking forward to trying to figure out life with only one car and two full-time jobs for the next week or more. I'm also really dreading the massive bill a couple of weeks before we have our second child. Needless to say I'm stressed out...

Blog Envy

I have total blog envy. If you enjoy reading blogs, and especially love reading blogs that are well-written, well-organized and visually appealing, check out Ree Drummond's blog over at The Pioneer Woman. I love reading her blogs every day. And she makes MULTIPLE posts. And she is a stay-at-home mom that home schools all four of her children. I don't know how she does it. She makes me feel like a total super slacker.

My favorite post of her's is this one Mass Hysteria. I'm a big dog lover myself. And while I know better than to ever own a basset hound (despite how unbelievably adorable they are as puppies, see here if you don't believe me. But wait, aren't all puppies cute?) this makes me wish that I had a huge ranch where maybe I could own one so that he might one day experience this level of happiness.

The Pioneer Woman also has some really spectacular recipes. And great photography tips. So please check her out.

People say the darnedest things...

So, I love my job. Absolutely love it. Like any job, it has its down days and its ups. But all in all, I love my job. Which used to really irk my husband because when I first started training to work at the 911 center, he swore up and down that I would hate it. I guess he's accepted it now. Two years later.

Well, I had a guy tell me today that he broke his nut while trying to change his tire. Was everything I could do to keep the donkey-bray laugh to myself while I got him some help.

And he was sober.

And dead serious.

And never realized how hilarious what he just said was.

Has that ever happened to you? I don't remember saying something quite that funny. At least not recently. But I'm always saying something goofy. I think I'm just that kind of person. If you don't know me you'd probably never believe I was a fairly intelligent and well-educated female. Saying something semi-retarded causes it. But most people don't know what to think when I say something coherent and intelligent. The southern accent really throws them.

I remember the first time that I really LEFT the South. My freshman year of college on Spring Break me and some friends flew to San Diego and spent a few days. Everyone there couldn't get enough of our accents. And they thought mine was the strongest. Which I took as a compliment. Because I am proud to be a Southerner. But I never really thought I had much of an accent before that.

I love the way people around here talk. Sometimes, I admit, it is incredibly hick. Some people sound just...dumb...when they open their mouths. And a lot of times, its because they really are. But I love southern accents. I've always been really fascinated by language and how people say what they say falls under that.

The English language has a very interesting history. One which I studied at great lengths while obtaining my English degree. (A degree which is in a box somewhere in my basement these days...not that the stupid thing is doing me a lot of good. Except I can always spell things like "schizophrenic" when I need to for work. I guess that's helpful.) It's a history I have been happy to bore people with if they will sit still long enough when the topic has come up.

How did I get off on this tangent?

Ah yes, accents. What people say. While I love a lot of accents, I absolutely cannot stand others. Boston accents. Oh em gee. Boston accents kill me. They're like nails on a chalk board. Cannot. Stand. It. No offense to any Bostoners. French accents kinda irk me too.

Being from California, my husband had no accent when we met. Even though he had spent more than half of his life south of the Mason Dixon line, he managed to not say things like "ain't" or "y'all." He spoke clear, concise English. Three years after moving to my home town with me, he can pull of a Southern accent with the best of them. I hear him talking to clerks in stores and he sounds like he's lived here all his life. I think it's adorable. He just laughs when I point it out.

I'm just really hoping my kids have my accent. Otherwise I'm going to look like the dumb one of the bunch. Which, as the matriarch seems rather unfair.

The scariest thing is that you never know

When anything happens to a child, it just hits you. Or it does if you have a heart. And a soul. From my experience working with and in emergency services, any calls involving a child make us all cringe. I will never forget when I was working as a reporter and went to cover a call where two small girls had drowned in a pond near their home. Many of the first responders were in tears. The paramedics wouldn't give up and performed CPR long after everyone knew it was too late. The parents were there. I will never forget the image of their little shoes next to the pond. And how I couldn't get the Ray Bradbury story "The Lake" out of my head  and the image from the story of the girl's long braids disappearing into the water, never to return.

My husband's cousin has a three year old little boy that is just the most precious guy. We met him first in 2008 when we flew out to California for Josh's sister's wedding. He has medical problems since he was younger and doctor's are still not sure what exactly is wrong with him. He's had some developmental delays but you couldn't find a sweeter kid. He's precious and has the brightest, bluest eyes. Well, my mother-in-law called last night to tell us that he was having more medical problems. And I was just so shocked. It breaks my heart that the poor little guy has to go through any of this and I just pray that he is healed.

The situation has made me remember the hard time that I had after Evie was born. I was dealing with all that postpartum hormone craziness and was so paranoid about Evie and SIDS. After a few weeks I relaxed about it a lot. But it was so hard to accept that I could no longer protect Evie the way I had for the last nine months.

During pregnancy, you are solely responsible for that baby's health. And it's easy to avoid drinking and smoking and take care of yourself for the baby. You have the baby with you 24/7 and the nudges and kicks and twists are reassurance that everything is well inside.

When the baby comes out it is both a miraculously wonderful and terrifying thing. Now the baby can be cut, hurt, fall, choke, break a limb, stop breathing, be poisoned, drown...the list is never-ending! I read once that having a child is taking a piece of your heart out and letting it walk around. And it is. To a T. You feel every bump, scrape, disappointment, and tear that the child sheds.

I don't know if Dads feel it the same or not. But boy, it tough to be a mom. It's so hard to send them out into the world and trust that they will come back safely. Every night when you put them down to sleep, you just have to pray that they'll make it safely through the night and through the next day.

Soooo Ready...

I don't think it's possible to be any more ready for this baby than we are. If I'm missing something, please, tell me. But I just don't think it's possible. Not just physically, but mentally, emotionally, psychologically, spiritually...haha. I just am unbelievably ready for this baby to be here. Way more so than I ever was the first time around.

The nursery is ready. We've got the pack-n-play set up in our bedroom for her to sleep in for at least the first couple of weeks. We've got a decent amount on newborn diapers, a huge amount of size 1 diapers, and I've even ordered a box of size 2 diapers from Amazon. I had received a promotional credit and a 20% coupon so literally the diapers were free. We've got paci's and they've all been sanitized. The hospital bag has been packed and repacked. And then repacked again. There's a stockpile of Similac that should get us through the first couple of weeks at least. Her clothes are washed and sorted.

I'm officially nesting and it is driving my toddler a little crazy. She's never seen me so motivated to clean EVERYTHING. She follows along wanting to help. She holds the dust pan while I sweep in corners and clean down cob webs. She wanders around with the Swiffer and dusts random things. It's adorable really.

Game plans have been established for what to do with Evie when I go into labor. Who is going where.

I've been closely monitoring my contractions and really really worried about my water breaking. Of course, most women don't experience their water breaking prior to being in full-blown labor so that shouldn't be a problem. But I can't help but worry about it. I dunno why!

Physically, I'm starting to feel the wear and tear of daily non-stop contractions (even though they are still technically Braxton-Hicks because they are irregular, they HURT and they're exhausting). My hips feel loose and sore. My back is starting to ache. My feet are achey and swollen at night, no matter how much I put them up. And my restless legs syndrome is no longer kept at bay with my placebo beverage. (Throughout both pregnancies I have had to have a glass of OJ/ginger ale mix EVERY night to keep my legs from hurting) I'm waking up a lot at night and just cannot get comfortable. The baby's feet are frequently kicking my ribs, her head feels like its pushing out, and I get the worst heartburn I've ever had every night around 8 p.m.

So I'm ready. Only 16 more days til she's full-term. Maybe she'll come shortly thereafter.

If the doctor ain't worried...

Had another baby doc appointment this week. In case you aren't marking it on YOUR calendar, I'm 34 weeks along now. Or to make it sound better, I'm in my 35th week. That always makes me feel like I'm further along. And closer to 40 is better.

I am pleased to announce that I am already 60% effaced and my cervix is soft. In case you don't know much about pregnancy and childbirth you have two goals at the end of pregnancy. Two things that must be accomplished BEFORE the baby can come out. Or before the baby can come out the traditional way, i.e. vaginally. Your cervix has to be 100% effaced and 10 cm dilated.

I think the entire pregnancy, labor, child birth thing is pretty amazing myself. Not just because I've done it once and am ready to finish up this time. But just the biology and physiology that's involved. If you don't believe in God, just wait until you have a baby. Or your spouse has one, if you're a dude. The very idea that we all started off as a tiny bunch of cells, so small it is invisible to the human eye, and in nine months developed into fully functioning little people. Okay, so newborns are completely helpless little people. But they recognize voices and smells, they're able to latch on and eat, they have some rather interesting reflexes...all in all they are pretty darn miraculous. And the whole labor delivery part...a 7 lb baby (I think that's still the average size, even though mine are humongoid) manages to make an exit through a fairly tiny opening and squeezes through BONES...I think its impressive that our bodies are designed in such a way that we can even do that. Okay, so maybe you don't think so. But I do!

With Evie, I didn't start dilating til 36 weeks. And it was a SLOW process. I think I was about 1.5 cm dilated when I was admitted to the hospital to be induced. It took 18 hours of pitocin-induced labor to get fully dilated and effaced so that I could push Evie out. I don't think I started effacing until on into labor.

I know things work differently with the second one. Labor is supposed to progress quicker. Everything may happen earlier. To me 34 weeks seems awfully early to be at 60%. However, my doctor assured me that it was okay. His words: "It's not uncommon." Okay...?

He also said that while my cervix is closed it's soft. And warned me that if I start getting any regular contractions to make sure and time them and if they are regular for an hour I need to come in. So he was cautious but not worried. Told me I didn't need to come back til 36 weeks. And at that time we'll do another ultrasound to weigh the baby and check her position, and I will get checked again. Hopefully, lots of progress will have been made. My doc said as long as I make it to my next appointment he's okay with me having the baby any time after that. I'd like to make it to February 6 so that she's full-term. I've been told that typically, even if the baby has zero problems, the hospital will keep babies born prior to 37 weeks in NICU for several days to insure they don't have any complications. I don't want Elly to spend ANY time in NICU. So Feb 6 is the goal. But the doctor says as long as I make it to my appointment, we're good anytime after that.

I told one of my friends how effaced I was and she asked if I'd been put on bed rest. She was then shocked to hear that I wasn't. Several people have been surprised that I have progressed so much so early. But of course, in my view, I just have to make it 3 more weeks. Well, 2.5 now. So I'm going to continue with my plans to try and get Elly to come around 37 weeks.

I'm going to start walking a little every day starting next week as soon as my new shoes get here (I found a pair of New Balance toning shoes on sale from $90 to $20 and ordered them over the weekend. I'm hoping their cuteness will motivate me to walk more postpartum. And I hope they make walking easier on my hips, back and knees while I'm preggo). They might not get here until the following week and that's okay. I don't want Elly to come too soon so I'm willing to wait a little longer to start the walking. I'm eating lots of pineapple (the wives' tales say that it helps) and I've got my exercise ball ready to start bouncing on.

So the doctor doesn't seem concerned. Just told me to call if there were any problems and make sure to watch for pre-term labor. Otherwise, he wished me a good two weeks and sent me on my way. If he's not concerned, I'm just going to continue what I'm currently doing. Hope that the progress will continue. I'd like to be dilated a few centimeters by my next appointment. This has been a good pregnancy but I'm ready for it to be over and for my little girl to be here already. So wish me luck. I'll keep you posted!

Ode to Cherry Limeade

I went through this with my last pregnancy too and I'm not sure why. But oh-em-gee, I LOOOOOOVE cherry limeade more than anything else.

I find myself craving Sonic's Cherry Limeades all the time.

And I've had to purchase those little flavor tubes for water of cherry limeade.

And I made cherry limeade flavored punch for the baby shower on Saturday.

It is delicious. Something about the cherry and the lime together. Mmm. But I only love them during my last month or so of pregnancy apparently. The obsession faded shortly after Evie was born and has only recently resurfaced.

I can remember the day that I gave birth to Evie, of course the hospital wouldn't let me eat. All I could have was ice chips. Stupid ice chips. But all of my family staying with me could eat. And they did. They all went to Sonic for lunch and got burgers and cherry limeades and I swear to you I could SMELL the cherry limeade. I probably could've cut off my right hand for a cherry limeade that afternoon. Or at least a finger. Okay, the idea of cutting off a body part is kinda gross. But I really wanted one.

My husband, being the sweetie he is, dipped some of my ice chips in his cherry limeade and gave them to me. So I got some of the flavor. It made it more bearable. Sonic was closed by the time Evie finally made her appearance but Josh went out the next day and got me Sonic. Was the best drink I've ever had!

My daughter is a punk...but man how I miss her!

Okay, so we've been wanting Evie to talk more. Or, honestly, I have been wanting her to talk more. Everyone else seems pretty relaxed about it. So, I learned last week that she talks for her Dad. When he has a day off and stays home, lil Evie stays with him. And apparently on those days she uses her words quite regularly. "Juice," "milk," "more," "done," etc. are all heard frequently. She NEVER does that for me. The punk. Well apparently she also talked non-stop for her grandparents when she spent the night with them. The punk!

Anyways, this weekend Evie had her first overnight visit with my in-laws. For those who don't know, my in-laws live 90 minutes away in a mountain town. Right now they have over two-foot of snow on the ground and for awhile when planning this visit, we weren't sure it would happen due to the weather. But everything cleared up and my mother-in-law came down Saturday, along with my sister-in-law and the grandmother, for my baby shower. Afterwards, I packed Evie a bag so she could go back up the mountain with them. This is only the second time in her life that she has spent the night away from me while I stayed home. When I worked nights and my husband was working she did occasionally have to spend the night with her Mimi. But it wasn't like I was home without her. I was working. Plus she was only 15 minutes away. Not 90. If something happened and she needed something, if she were to be sick or whatever, I could get her and be home in less than half an hour. And I admit to having problems worrying about her and fretting at night when she wasn't home in her bed.

While I was packing Evie's bag I cried. No joke. Cried. I managed to hug her bye and maintain a smile for her. Then as they headed out the door I cried again. And cried as they packed up into the car. And cried when they left. Heck, I'm starting to get teary-eyed just remembering it! My husband sat next to me on the couch and hugged me. He told me if it was going to be that hard on me we could call them to bring her back. But no, Evie was excited to be going with her Nanny. And I told him I couldn't keep her home forever. Sometime I had to start letting her get out and do things. So I sat on the couch and cried for a little bit while my baby girl headed to her grandparents' house.

One of the reasons we had agreed to let the grandparents take her for the night was so my hubby and I could have one final date night before another baby arrived. We had big plans to go out and have dinner, watch a movie, maybe see what else we could get into. Instead, by the time I had cleaned up from the shower, I was exhausted and Josh admitted he was pretty tired as well. We didn't even leave the house. We ate some pizza and caught up on our Netflix queue and watched all the shows we had DVR'd. Ended up staying late just sitting on the couch talking. It was nice.

I managed to sleep in an hour the next day and finally dragged Josh out of bed around 11 a.m. because I couldn't stand how quiet the house was. On a normal day I'd have gotten up early and made breakfast while Evie whined about being hungry. Cleaned up after that and spent the rest of the morning chasing Evie around, playing with her, and trying to keep her from destroying the house. Instead, when I cleaned the house, it stayed clean. There was no one following behind me to pull out the stuffed animals I put up, or crawl on the bed I made, or splash water while I refilled the humidifiers. I emptied the dishwasher without my usual "help." Of course, it took half the time. But I still missed Evie holding up bowls and silverware for me to identify for her before she helped put it away. Once the chores were done I just sat on the couch. Feeling pretty useless. I mostly played my DS and watched Josh play PS3 and stalked my mother-in-law's Facebook page since she was regularly posting pics of Evie. I did manage to take a nap, which I haven't managed in months and was proud of.

Evie came home last night and now there are once more toys scattered all over, fingerprints on the window and some spilled juice on the ottoman. Life is as it should be. She had a fabulous time with her grandparents and made snow cream (ice cream made from snow) and went to church and just absolutely was a blast to be with. They raved about how smart she is (of course she is!) and how good she was. I was happy to hear that when they asked if she was ready to go home she grabbed her things and ran to the door waiting on them.

I'm proud of how well she and I both did. It gives me hope for our next big challenge coming up tomorrow: Day Care.

Why don't second babies deserve showers?

So, I've always thought that baby showers were for the baby. Up until I was pregnant with my second child, I had never heard of any rule of etiquette that said that second babies don't get showers. I have always seen showers as a celebration. Sure, people get presents, sorta like with birthdays. But its a party to celebrate either an upcoming nuptial, the birth of a baby, whatever. So it kind of blew my mind that subsequent children aren't "supposed" to receive a shower, especially if they are the same gender as the first child. Harsh!

Well, I disagree and fortunately, so does my mom. She's throwing lil Miss Ellynor a baby "sprinkle" this Saturday and I'm so excited. With Evie, honestly, I was excited about the stuff we'd get. I was so excited about becoming a mom and part of the baby process was getting all the baby stuff and getting the house ready. Well, this time we don't so much need "stuff" for when Elly arrives. We've got a crib, changing table, bottles, bibs, burp cloths, diaper bag, etc. The nursery is ready and we've got the pack-n-play set up in our bedroom. Heck the hospital bag is packed and ready to go. But we're definitely going to need a lot of support from our family and friends to survive this adventure. That's why I'm excited to see everyone this weekend.

Many of our closest family and friends will be coming to our home, to eat some food and spend some time. And while I'm super excited about the little party, I'm still not sure why second babies don't "deserve" a celebration. I mean, I know people who have like four or five showers for one baby. You know, they have different groups of friends, say the girls from work throw them a shower, and the women from their church and then their family. So they end up getting truckloads of stuff. So if its within proper etiquette for them to have multiple showers for one, surely the rule against showers for a second child isn't an anti-greed thing. Because having more than two showers for one baby seems pretty overboard to me.

The idea that its greedy to have a shower for a second baby seems archaic to me. Granted, you really don't need all the big expensive items the second time around. Or usually you don't. If you are like me and have two under two, you may well need a second crib, second changing table, second high chair, second stroller, etc. Even though we had all the basic nursery furniture, Evie is still using some of her "baby" things, like her pack-n-play. And there were some things that we didn't have with Evie that I really wish we did, like a bouncer seat and a nice digital thermometer. Then we needed to upgrade some things so that we could accommodate two babies, like my in-laws got us a double stroller.

Regardless of how far apart your children are, raising a baby for the first year is incredibly expensive. I was dumbfounded at first by the amount of diapers and wipes Evie went through. The huge stack from the shower that I felt sure would last us months didn't even last through my maternity leave. We found ourselves buying diapers for that girl weekly for awhile. And they are NOT cheap! Then when we switched to formula feeding there was another huge expense. Especially since Evie had reflux and was put on soy formula for several months. It was nearly $30 a can and the can lasted about 2 weeks. (You can look at baby pictures and tell Evie LOVED to eat, hehe) With all the expenses that new parents find themselves handed (and this is of course not even thinking about the tremendous medical bills that a pregnancy and hospital stay can create) why not throw them a party and get them stuff? Buy them some diapers, some wipes, some formula, some baby powder and diaper ointment. Lord knows they'll need it.

Personally, if any of my friends have two, three, four, five...whatever...kids I don't see anything wrong with them having a shower. And I will be there!

Some other interesting rules of shower etiquette:

*The family isn't supposed to throw the shower. It's greedy.

*Baby showers for subsequent children didn't really become mainstream until the 20th century.

*A proper shower doesn't allow the husbands to come...ladies only! Poor guys!

*Registries are a no-no! It's rude to tell people what to buy you.

Is it too early to call Baby Bunching a success?

Baby bunching. I came across this term while mindlessly perusing the internet one day at work. (Sorry work.) I was bored and pregnant and while pregnant it seems I can only think about baby things when I'm bored and don't have anything better to occupy myself with. The girls over at BabyBunching.com apparently coined the phrase. Or at least they are claiming it. Baby bunching is, according to the site, having two kids under two, by accident or intent.

Next month (hopefully Elly waits that long to come) I will become a baby buncher. Something that I thought my friend Nicole, who chose to bunch, was a little crazy for wanting to do when I heard that she and her husband were trying to get pregnant when her first child was about nine months old. Not crazy in a bad way. Just crazy like, "Oh my gosh I could NEVER survive that" sort of crazy.

A few months later, Josh and I started talking about when we wanted another baby. In all honesty, I really wanted to get pregnant again and get that whole thing out of the way. I don't really like being pregnant and my first pregnancy was miserable. So I was thinking "band aid" approach. But as we talked we thought that it would be really hard on us, both physically and financially, to get pregnant right then. And I just felt like Evie deserved more time to be our only baby. And we REALLY couldn't afford it. Josh was getting ready to start going back to school full-time. He would still be working full-time but his hours were going to be cut back. Our expenses were going to go up and our income was going to go down. Not really the time to create an additional mouth to feed. So I got on a new birth control. Which I didn't use correctly. Oops...

Around the end of May I started feeling really crappy. Like all the time. I was on night shift then and was getting practically no sleep. I would get off work at 6 a.m., go home and catch a quick nap, then get up with Evie around 8 or 9 and take care of her until nap time after lunch. Then we'd snooze for a few hours, get up, I'd get ready for work and then go work another 12 hour shift. We worked a weird on-off schedule but I did this 7 out of 14 days. If it sounds miserable that's because it was. It was beyond miserable. But I was doing it. Up til May. Then suddenly caffeine started making me sick, I couldn't stay awake at night, I kept getting weird stomach bugs and having to leave work because I was throwing up. Admittedly pregnancy crossed my mind, but I didn't feel anything like I had with Evie.

I've never had a late period so when I missed mine everything clicked. The exhaustion, the sickness, it all made sense. I took the test on Father's Day right after I woke up and was so busy over the next hour taking care of Evie and cooking a big breakfast for my hubs (it was after all Father's Day) that I completely forgot to wake him up and tell him the results. In fact, I just left it sitting on the bathroom sink. When he got up and went to the bathroom himself, he noticed it. Then came running into the kitchen with way more enthusiasm than he had shown when we found out I was pregnant the first time. He was ecstatic.

When I asked him about the difference in reactions later he said that with Evie he had NO idea what to expect. We'd just talked about having a baby and decided that I would stop taking my birth control. We didn't really expect we'd get pregnant. It was a surprise. I had read some stuff on pregnancy and a lot of books and websites cautioned that it usually took 6 months for a couple to get pregnant and that it wasn't uncommon for it to take up to a year. Plus, I had been on the pill for nearly a decade. Medical opinions stated that it would take several months for my body to regulate itself and begin ovulating again.

Two pregnancies later I have come to the conclusion that I am apparently a very "Fertile Myrtle." And more serious steps need to be taken after Elly's birth to make sure we don't end up with 3 under 3.

Josh says he's more excited about Elly because he already has sort of an idea of what's going to happen and what the bring-home finished product will be like. At the beginning he was the only one excited. I was terrified. I mean, a baby is blessing. And I believe that God won't give you anything you can't handle. However, there was no way I could survive pregnancy on night shift. And a short time after finding out that I was pregnant I had several miscarriage scares. Lots of bleeding and numerous trips to the doctor where I expected them to give me their condolences and send me home in tears. So between worrying I was going to lose the baby, worrying how I'd survive pregnancy with a toddler while working nights, worrying how we were going to feed another baby...I can so vividly remember being so scared and stressed and worried. All while knowing that the stress and the worry were harder on the baby but I couldn't stop.

We made it through the first trimester (and second obviously) and I was incredibly blessed and fortunate to find myself moved to a daytime Monday through Friday position at work. Since then I have spent way less time worrying how I'd survive this pregnancy, because like every Mom knows, you just do what you gotta do. Somehow you find yourself handling things you couldn't have handled during your first pregnancy. Like getting very little sleep, never napping, chasing a toddler for 8 hours, cooking and cleaning and handling raw meat (just seeing raw meat in the grocery store made me sick when I was pregnant with Evie).

We passed the halfway point and I found myself marveling at how unbelievably fast this pregnancy was going by. It helps that this pregnancy has been flawless since we got out of that scary first trimester. Well, really, since after about the 8th week. Since then I've had no problems. Well, nothing I consider a "problem." My doctors want to stop my contractions because they're worried they're going to cause me to go into labor early. But unless I start dilating I'm not concerned. Besides I'm really looking to get this pregnant thing over with at about 37 weeks. I'm pretty sure if they stop my contractions I won't be having the baby naturally that early.

Now that I'm in my last couple of months (my last month is this goes my way) I am incredibly excited. It took me a little while to decide that maybe having 2 babies at once wasn't going to be a bad thing. The more time I have spent researching tips on surviving baby bunching, the more excited I've become. I've learned that a lot of people these days are bunching their babies. One reason seems to be that women are waiting til later in life to have their children and are bunching to beat the biological clock. Others felt like getting the whole infant, diaper, bottle thing out of the way all at once was best for them. Still others have done it so that their children are close emotionally due to their proximity chronologically. I feel like I'm joining a community of tough mommas. Tough mommas who have managed to survive two babies in diapers. Not just survive, but thrive.

I suffer no delusions that life is going to be perfect and hunky dory after Elly comes. I'm sure there will be times when I am so sleep deprived and frustrated that I just sit down and cry. Who knows, I might spend the first six months sleep deprived and frustrated. Lord, Elly might not sleep through the night til she's 3 for all I know, though I hope not! The point is, I remember what a newborn is like. And I know that things will be difficult. I think adding a child, regardless of how many other children you have or how old they are, is probably a challenge. As I read blogs and articles from other baby bunchers, I see the kinds of challenges I'm going to face and I feel like I'm as prepared as I can possibly be. I've also read about the joys and rewards that will come when the kids are older, and I absolutely cannot wait.

I'm so excited about becoming a baby buncher. And I know it seems insane. And possibly a little goofy. I've spent time researching what the best gear is to simplify life with two. I researched and picked out a double stroller (the Graco DuoGlider) and have been blessed with fabulous in-laws who purchased it for us. After doing a lot of reading and talking with my husband I decided having a second pack n play would make life easier. Then I found a really awesome Graco Playard super on sale (and it even matches my double stroller...not that anyone will ever see the two together, but hey, its neat) and got that. But I feel so much better prepared for this baby than I ever could have been for my first. I honestly don't feel like I would be so prepared if my eldest were 3 or 4 and I were getting ready to have a second. I still remember all the tricks that I learned for dealing with newborn problems, from swaddling, to feeding, tummy time and starting solids and teaching them to fall asleep. All those things are still so fresh in my mind. I knew what things to start stocking up on while pregnant because we would definitely use them and what things to wait on. I remembered not to buy many newborn clothes, because they don't wear them for long. I remember that they also outgrow newborn diapers super quick. We've got newborn and size 1 diapers. Probably enough to get us into size 2 diapers because I waited and got great coupons so we spent very little. We've stocked up on formula whenever there have been good Similac coupons. I've gotten some great Gerber and Beechnut coupons and managed to stock up on some stage 1 baby food. I've seen clothing on sale and managed to get things that Elly will be able to wear in the spring when she grows into them. Not that we don't still need stuff. I remember Evie going through more diapers than I could have ever imagined in the first six months of her life. And with two babies using them, we will probably use more wipes in the next six months than I even want to think about. In fact, thinking about it is kind of scary.

But I feel so prepared for this baby. I'm not worried or stressed about it. I know its awfully early but I already feel like a successful baby buncher. I feel like this whole thing is going to be great, difficult, but great. And although I may have moments when I'm ready to throw in the towel (or maybe that should be burp cloth?) things are going to be okay. Neither of my children will remember life without the other. They'll grow up thick as thieves and best buds. I'm sure they'll fight and pull each others hair. I'll have to intervene in disputes over who the blue jeans belong to and someone hogging the bathroom. But they'll have someone to play with and someone to talk to. Someone with all the same memories, who knows them better than anyone else for the rest of their life. And I think that is just awesome.

So sure, the baby hasn't been born yet. But I'm going to go ahead and call this whole second child thing a success. What do you think?

Does Mommy know "breast"?

These days breastfeeding is a heated topic. A lot of moms feel very strongly one way or the other and no one can argue with the medical data that shows that breast milk boosts the immune system of infants. However pregnant women can be unsure what decision to make. They may feel pressured to breastfeed and feel guilty if they don't want to. But what decision is really the "best" for them and their baby?

Well, I think it all depends. I breastfed my first daughter for about 5 weeks before my milk dried up. My job is a fast-paced and, at times, physically and emotionally demanding one. The field of emergency communications tends to be a drought or flood environment. We're either twiddling our thumbs and handling a few administrative tasks and calls or we're out of ambulances with more calls coming in. Its not a job where pumping was going to be an option. So after about a month we introduced a bottle and formula to replace the two feedings that I would miss while working and hoped that my milk flow would just accommodate the change. Yeah...that didn't happen. My boobs completely refused to produce more milk after the bottle was introduced. So at five weeks my daughter became a bottle baby, and I finally got my body back.

I was in no way upset about the situation. Evie...well, she hated formula and hated bottles. But she loved to eat so she quickly adapted and moved on. A lot of moms say that they loved breastfeeding their child. It was a bonding experience. They felt like they were doing what they were made to do. I won't argue that its dramatically cheaper. But I absolutely hated breastfeeding. It was exhausting. It wasn't uncomfortable, but it wasn't really comfortable either. Despite what anyone else had told me, it did NOT help me lose weight. I didn't feel like I bonded with Evie at all. In fact, I just felt like a cow. A gross, leaky, exhausted cow. I didn't have time to sleep, to shower, to eat or do anything other than feed the baby. It was horrible. And after nine months of carrying Evie around, I thought I would get my body back after labor. But instead it felt like now she was holding it hostage even from beyond the womb. I couldn't diet, it would hurt my milk supply. I couldn't exercise, it might spoil my milk. I couldn't drink, because it might get into my breast milk. I couldn't sleep more than an hour at a time, because Evie wanted to eat every three hours, took nearly an hour to eat, and took longer to doze off. And when you breastfeed, you're the ONLY one who can feed the baby. So my husband was getting a full night's rest while I did good to catch a few cat naps through the night.

Needless to say, I don't want to breastfeed this time around. And my husband is giving me a hard time about it.

"It's selfish that you won't breastfeed just because you want to get more sleep," he says. "It's not fair that you breastfed Evie and won't Elly," he says. "I can't believe you don't want to breastfeed."

I've now told him if he wants to he is WELCOME to breastfeed Elly. He says I'm being a smart ass but I don't really feel that way. Why is it that just because I"m capable of breastfeeding that its selfish of me not to? He's capable of bottle feeding, so I think its selfish of him not to want to. Of course, part of my explanation to him about why I wasn't going to be breastfeeding including explaining that we could take turns feeding the baby at night and that way we could both get some sleep without one of us going on nothing while the other one sleeps all night. It was when he realized that his sleep schedule might be affected that he began having a problem with bottle feeding. So who is the selfish one?

Josh will only get a few days off from work so he'll be heading back to work while I enjoy six weeks of maternity leave. And I don't expect him to get up as much when he's going to be working 45 hours a week while I'm staying home. Of course, its not like I'll be spending my days snoozing. There won't be "sleeping when the baby sleeps" this time around. Because this time there will be a toddler to take care of during the day. And I'm not sure how often I will be lucky enough to get both babies asleep at the same time. But, with him working, I don't expect him to get up all night with a colicky baby or whatever.

So why is it that a mom who doesn't want to breastfeed is a bad mom? Since I've unintentionally managed to baby bunch I feel like I've spent the last two years pregnant. That's a lot of time that I've not really felt in control of my body. In fact I had literally just gotten back to my pre-baby weight and enjoyed a month of being skinny before I was pregnant again. And with this pregnancy being so close to my last my body very quickly reverted to pregnancy mode. I want my body back! I want to see my feet, and sleep on my stomach, and wear jeans that don't have an elastic waist. I don't want to be a slave to an infant because I want to take care of my toddler. I've had family graciously offer to come help out after the new baby comes and I'm excited that they'll be there. In all honesty, I'm going to let the family help take care of the new baby as much as possible so that Evie doesn't feel as abandoned and displaced. That won't be easy to do if I'm breastfeeding.

And even if I do breastfeed, it will be for only six weeks, then I'll be working full-time again and odds are good that once we introduce bottles, my milk will once more dry up. How much of a difference can six weeks really make for the baby? I know plenty of perfectly healthy children that were bottle fed. I know plenty of kids that pick up every cold, flu, stomach bug, and cough that they walk across that were breastfed. So whereas there is a lot of science backing breast milk, I think some immunity is inherited and some people just happen to get sick a lot. Breast milk may improve their immunity but these days science has brought formula a long ways. Many of the antibodies that breast milk is touted for are in formula as well. Along with the probiotics, vitamins, minerals, and even iron (which, for the record, breastfed babies are usually low on).

So I really don't think this should be such a hot button issue. I don't feel that it is in any way fair to persecute a mother for not wanting to breastfeed. I fully support every woman's right to breastfeed. But I also believe that it should be a choice. Someone shouldn't be stoned or spurned or made to feel guilty because of her feelings on breastfeeding. Breastfeeding is like spandex...its really NOT for everyone. Some women love breastfeeding and more power to them. Others struggle or aren't comfortable and it's sad that a woman is persecuted in any way for such a personal choice.

So pooh on anyone who frowns on my choice to not breastfeed. I've been a good mommy for nine months. I've avoided cocaine, methamphetamines, alcohol, tobacco, aspirin, caffeine (okay, so I do occasionally have a coffee or soda...but NEVER more than one), sleeping on my back, heavy lifting, physical trauma, lead paint exposure, radiation, etc. (For the record, I've never even seen cocaine or meth and I would never smoke or drink while pregnant). I've not griped about losing my waist, gaining a lot of weight, heartburn, swollen feet, back pain, not being about to wear my wedding ring, not being able to breath, contractions, constipation, bloating, gas, feeling super itchy, exhaustion, soreness....okay the list of pregnancy gripes is never-ending. But nevertheless, I feel like I've been positive and optimistic and largely kept my complaints to myself. Surely to goodness, after nine months of being so good, my daughter won't hold it against me for choosing bottles and formula. I hope not at least.

Win Free Stuff

Okay, in addition to writing blogs about my life, I would also like to use this to help others find some of the free deals that I have LOOOVED getting since I've started scraping around on the internet.

Right now on NoMoreRack.com there is a deal called Friend Rack. When you sign up, first off you get a free $10 credit.

My registration link is http://www.nomorerack.com/?cr=134496

Also to get the free $10 credit, enter P1070 in the gift cards tab.

My goal is 650 friends so I can get an iPad. I've been DYING to get one and my husband won't let me! So PLEASE help me out. Thanks!

Also, this is a great site. They have some super fabulous deals every day. I haven't purchased anything from them yet but only because I'm trying to save as much money as possible before the baby comes. Definitely check them out!

To day care or not to day care...

Like probably every other parent in the world, I think my kid is brilliant, talented, and oh so special. And of course, she is. Aren't all kids?

Evie has always been ahead with a lot of her milestones. She held her head up early. Slept through the night at a couple of weeks old. Started eating solids at four months. Started pulling up and cruising at 6 months. She began walking at 10 months old. Started imaginary play at 14 months, etc. Typically she was ahead of when the baby books said she would start doing things. However, with her language she hasn't been ahead. And starting at her 12 month check-up she was even a little behind. My doctor reassured me that she had probably been focused on learning her physical milestones and she would catch up. But she didn't. With my bachelor's degree in English with a minor in Communications I was convinced that she would just start talking in sentences one day. That maybe she would just skip the whole baby talk thing. Other parents' babies were saying "mama" and "dada" and "baba" while Evie would simply point at what she wanted until we figured it out. She laughed and made non-sense gibberish talk. But as far as actual words, she wasn't interested. 

Now at almost 17 months Evie has approximately 20 words that she can say. I know because I've heard her, with my own ears, say them. She can say baby, book, ball, bye, juice, milk, Momma, Daddy, did it, done, etc. She's even used two-word sentences like "Daddy book." If you ask Evie to say a word she usually ignores you. Occasionally  she will repeat something for you. But those occasions are few and far between. Typically when she wants something she points and grunts or cries. I've tried withholding something to attempt to force her to use words, while repeating the word I'm trying to get her to say. This tends to push her from "kinda whiny" to "super angry" and causes a full-blown tantrum to boot.

At her 15-month check-up, Evie's pediatrician said that if she didn't catch up on her language by her 18-month check-up that we would need to get her started with a speech therapist or an early intervention group. Greeeeaaat. So needless to say as the 18-month-mark approaches, I feel more and more pushed to make her talk. Especially since I feel its more a decision by her to NOT talk rather than something that is "wrong" with her. I think there is kind of a stigma with getting a therapist or early intervention involved and I really don't want to get that started when I don't really feel like its necessary. I just don't know how to explain to my toddler that she HAS to start talking. Otherwise not starting some sort of intervention will make me look (and feel) like a negligent parent. And who wants to be one of those?

One of the things that I have been told over and over again by other parents is "Put her in daycare, that made my kid start talking." Josh and I discussed it, decided to wait. Discussed it again, decided we couldn't afford it. Discussed it some more and decided that we would work to find a way to afford it if it would help Evie. So we came up with an amount we could probably afford and started calling area day cares. I also regularly posted on Facebook to get suggestions from friends. (I firmly believe other parents are your absolute best resource on everything kid related and what better way to access them than my favorite social networking site? ha)

One woman was suggested as a great option. She keeps a few kids in her home and while she didn't have an opening she would be happy to work with us and let Evie come on the days that one of the other children was out. Her hours started nice and early and she was located a reasonable distance from my home. Even better, her rate was right at what we said we could spend. Everything seems to check out so we've got all the paper work filled out and I'm going to take Evie by one morning next week to let her play and see how she does. Then hopefully she can start going once a week or so and it will all work out.

I definitely want to get it started and make it a kind of regular thing before #2 arrives. I don't want Evie to feel like she's being shipped off because there's a new baby. And I hope that having a couple of hours with just one baby to take care of might help make life less stressful for all of us. Plus it will give me some one-on-one time with the new addition. Then I'll just have to come up with a way for one-on-one time with Evie and we'll be good there! Maybe the baby will sleep a lot?? hah! Yeah...right.

I really hope Evie makes friends quickly and makes rapid progress with her talking. I think as soon as she gets away from those of us who know that a series of grunts and an imperial gesture means that she wants juice, she'll be forced to talk. Plus she'll get to see other kids talking. Maybe that will influence her. Peer pressure at an early age. Maybe having an outlet, something that she gets to do without her sister, will help make the transition from only child to older child easier as well.

As I write this I realize there are a lot of "I hope's" and "maybe's" which isn't very inspiring. The hardest thing about this is that my baby girl has never stayed with anyone other than grandparents. And its scary to think about leaving her with someone else. Its also sad to think that it will be that much less time that I get to spend with her one day a week. And this will be one more experience outside the home...one step closer to preschool and the Pre-K. She's growing up too quickly!

I'm anxious to get it started to see how it goes...

When Mommy's sick...

There has been a horrible stomach bug going around my area. I know because I keep seeing on people's Facebook status something along the lines of "So sick. Got the stomach bug." or "Kids brought home the stomach bug." Funny how much Facebook has changed how we get information.

Anyways, various parents I know have complained about their kids bringing it home. Usually that's something that only parents with children in school have to deal with. Unfortunately my child, who isn't in school, or daycare, or any other activity where she should be picking up contagious diseases, brought this stomach bug home to us as well. On Thursday Evie was sick. This was Evie's first time throwing up that I know of. She never really spiked a fever, but she just felt crummy and threw up anything she tried to eat for a whole day. Mostly, she wanted to sleep and drink her juice.

On Friday night, my parents got sick. Since they serve as Evie's daycare, I figured they had what she had and began hoping/wishing/praying that I didn't get sick. My husband never gets sick, so honestly I wasn't even worried about him. Just me. Selfish, I know, but really, the man NEVER gets sick. I gave my mom a hard time for the fact that she went to a church program on New Year's Eve and still was hugging the porcelain throne by midnight. No, they weren't drinking. That was just when she got sick. Admit it, its humorously ironic. Throughout the day Saturday all my parents were really able to do was sleep. Couldn't even keep water down. Then Saturday night, my husband gets home from work and I hear him in the bathroom...puking. Great. Several times during the night I hear him get up and rush to the bathroom to puke. Great. Sunday morning, I still felt fine. I left Josh in bed so he could try and sleep through as much of his sickness as possible.

By lunchtime Sunday I was sick but it was manageable. I called to complain to my mom, she was sympathetic and although she felt dramatically better and had even managed to eat breakfast, she still felt weak. She told me it seemed to be a 24 hour thing and wished me luck. Although my husband managed to keep some soup down and drag himself to work Sunday afternoon, I continued to feel worse as the day wore on. By Sunday night I hadn't been able to keep down more than a glass or two of water and ginger ale all day.

Even Monday, I was still unable to eat or drink and was concerned about the effects dehydration would have on my pregnancy. So I called my doctor's office. They called me in a prescription and gave me a list of medications I could take and I spent the rest of the day sleeping. Thank God my husband was off work. Still it was a horrible day. A horrible two days.

Poor little Evie just didn't understand what was wrong with Mommy. Her response to my laying in bed or on the couch all day was to whine and throw tantrums or have a complete meltdown at the slightest provocation. Which meant that Dad had an AWFUL day. Since he doesn't usually keep her by himself more than once a week, he doesn't have quite the same toddler tolerance level that I've developed. So he was pretty miserable.

This is the first time I've been really sick since having Evie. The sickest I've been before this I could at least manage to lay on the couch and still interact with Evie enough to keep her happy. But this stomach bug was the sickest I have been in...well, for as long as I can remember. Even once I was able to keep food down I was still incredibly weak. Even today, more than 48 hours after the sickness started,  I have no energy and my stomach still feels a little iffy. I've been able to eat some today, and finally start rehydrating. But I still don't feel "normal."

I guess it should make me feel good that my being out of commission for more than 24 hours caused my house to just fall to shambles. Josh and Evie survived, but neither of them did so happily. Both of them had a horrible day due to my sickness. Nothing really got accomplished for the day. Nap time was interrupted, twice. Supper was brief and miserable. Pretty much nothing followed the smooth flow of our usual day together.

I frequently feel unappreciated and unnoticed. Whereas this may not be the day at the spa, a dozen roses and a glass of wine telling me how grateful they are for everything I do, the fact that nothing went as it should without me may just be all the thanks I get.

Butt exercises

So at my 31 week appointment I was informed that little Ellynor is in a breech position, meaning she has her butt towards the exit rather than her head. Although there is still plenty of time for her to turn, my doctor told me some exercises to help make her roll over. I had one that I did when I was pregnant with Evie that was effective. Or I guess it was because she turned. So I figured I'd start doing that every night again. My mom told me the exercise and she was taught it by her midwife when she was pregnant with me.

I'm not sure how to explain it so you can picture it but its kind of like child's pose (view here...ABC's of Yoga) only without resting your butt on your feet, keeping your butt up. Supposedly it loosens your hips and allows the baby to turn. I don't know. Either way, my husband thinks its hilarious and it weirds out my toddler.

Whenever Evie is worried she does this adorable little thing where she wrings her hands. You can't really appreciate how adorable this is until you've seen it. It has effectively saved her from several time outs and possibly a couple of spankings because it is that adorable. She does it when she knows she's done something wrong and some sort of punishment is coming and its kind of like sad puppy eyes in that it makes it nearly impossible to do more than chide her and tell her not to do it again. Once she figures out that this little hand-wringing act is so effective at helping her escape punishment, she'll start abusing it and it will become less adorable. But for now, I honestly believe she has no idea.

Anyways, I do these butt exercises (I have no idea what else to call them) for about 15 minutes every night in the middle of the living room floor. The living room is the only room in our house with carpet (therefore making it the least painful room to spend any time on my knees) and this way I can watch some T.V. while hoping the baby rolls over. My husband makes jokes and cackles at me. A lot. No amount of threatening has stopped him from laughing at me. And I don't even see how it can possibly be funny night after night. The first couple of nights, sure. But five nights in, he's still laughing. And I'm still telling him to shut up in the most PG way I can come up with.

Evie on the other hand pats my head and asks "Mama?" over and over again. Then she'll stand a short distance away and wring her little hands watching me closely. This is not "normal" Mommy behavior. Considering the wide range of behaviors that Evie has dealt with from a pregnant mommy over the last 32 weeks, for her to be completely weirded out is saying something. She's dealt with my morning sickness, mood swings, hot flashes, painful baby kicks, food cravings and more and has taken it all in stride. But apparently exercises where Mommy lays in the floor with her butt in the air, occasionally asking some "Elly" person to please turn around, is beyond her ability to cope with. I've tried to tell her that Mommy is okay and I'm just doing some exercises, but that doesn't quite get it for her.

 Sometimes its nice that my16 month old is a little behind in talking because I can only imagine the ways she would try to explain this new nightly ritual between Mommy and Daddy to her grandparents. Sometimes as a parent you just have to pray that you aren't permanently traumatizing your kids.

Bless your heart...

Well, its official. I'm huge. Or at least I must be because I'm officially getting comments from the peanut gallery on my due date or what must clearly be twins. I get paid once a month so my husband and I do one huge grocery trip per month. It usually takes us at least two carts to get our purchase to the car (though we make it to check-out with only one...not sure how that happens) so its a big, time-consuming grocery trip. This past weekend when we went to Wal-mart for our monthly grocery trip, I was dealing Braxton-Hicks contractions the whole time and they were very painful by the end. So when we finally made it to check out I was holding my belly and breathing through contractions and probably looked super miserable. The well-intentioned clerk smiled at me and said "Not much longer huh?" I glared at her and told her I wasn't due for eight more weeks. Her response? "Oh, honey, bless your heart!"

Thus it begins.

I've been getting some of the comments when people ask how far along I am and then comment that there is no way I will make it. But this was the first "Bless your heart" for this pregnancy. The all-time most wonderful thing to hear when you're pregnant is how ginormous you are. NOT! In what universe do these people live where they think that what they're saying could possibly make me feel better?

When I was pregnant with my first daughter, I spent the last couple of months being harassed by random do-gooder strangers about how much longer I had, how much weight I had gained, and how many babies I was carrying. This time I've decided I absolutely will not take it. With my last pregnancy I politely accepted people's criticisms, quietly listened to people's "medical" opinions, and just basically never stood up for myself at all. I wasn't raised to be a doormat but I was raised to be polite and I just didn't have it in me to tell people where they could shove their opinions. Sixteen months later I'm a much different person than I was when pregnant with Evie. More than a year of motherhood, full of blow-out diapers, toddler blow-ups, sleepless nights, spit-up covered clothes and more, has caused me to reevaluate a lot of my life as well as given me a whole different perspective on how much some people's opinions are worth.

This isn't to say I'm going to go ballistic on the next little old granny that comes up and pats my tummy, peers up at me through her bifocals and manages to gum out "Any day now huh dearie?" through her false teeth. No, I will probably just smile back at the old lady and lie straight to her face, that yeah, it's any day. Because I'm really hoping to have this baby at 37 weeks, and that's barely 5 weeks away. So its more a slight fudge than a straight up lie.

But for the rest of the know-it-all's -- beware! I go to the doctor every week or two. My doctor has a medical degree which he obtained after several years of studying medicine and then several more years of specializing in obstetrics. If there is anything wrong with me, from the size of my belly to the amount of weight I have gained, he not only has the training to identify it, he'll probably point it out. Seeing that he's the first person to tell me that I had started getting stretch marks in my previous pregnancy (yeah, really, that's what I wanted to hear today Doc) I'm pretty sure he'll tell me if I'm eating my way towards the Biggest Loser. For the record, subsequent babies are typically bigger than their elder counterparts. And having two pregnancies in two years means my abdominal muscles and uterus and very little time to be skinny and therefore popped right back out there.

Now that I've experienced the beautiful (though stress-inducing) bundle of joy (and dirty diapers, vomit-covered clothes, and various other disgusting by-products) that is the light at the end of this miserably swollen, fat and waddling ten month journey I'm able to be much more positive about the experience as a whole. ( And I don't care what the doctors say, pregnancy is ten months. Ask any middle schooler how many months 40 weeks equals and they will say TEN. This nine month thing was developed by MEN who will never experience anything like pregnancy and just wish to further our suffering!)

The down-side for everyone else is that I'm really not going to take their crap. I know I'm huge. I don't really care. I lost all of my pregnancy weight 6 months after having Evie. I can and will do it again. Hopefully having a toddler to chase around will help motivate me to stay active this time and I can lose it faster. Yeah...right. The end result is totally worth it so pointing out that I'm huge and "Oh my gosh, you have 'X' weeks left? Bless your heart!" is no longer going to reduce me to tears. I'm sure my husband is hoping he's not with me when it happens, but I am definitely going to start telling people off. This is probably my last pregnancy so by golly, I want to enjoy however many weeks I have left. I have the rest of my life to be skinny. I only have 8 more weeks to eat a milkshake without feeling incredibly guilty or starving myself the rest of the day. So shut up and let me eat my large fry and molten chocolate lava cake in peace...