burnt toast life

Jan 23

a day in the life – 1.22.16

Jan 23

As I mentioned on Facebook, the last time I did a post like this was in August of 2014, when Molly was 2 months old. Rereading it was strange. First, I realized that she ate a lot more often than he does, and that took up A LOT of time. Second, I was back at work, and I can tell based on the overall tone of the post that I was not happy about it.

It’s been so long since I’ve written a blog post, I know. Apologies in advance for typos or weird sentences. I need to start writing more before I go back to work (where I’m literally paid to write coherently) because seriously, just two months of staying home and already my brain is just mush.

12 midnight
I’m starting this at the true start of Friday because I went out Thursday night, which is such a rare occurrence. A friend who lives very close by invited me over for wine and snacks and girl time, which felt really good. I took Liam along, figuring he’d sleep in the Moby wrap or in my friend’s baby swing. Ah… no. He was wide awake the entire time… not fussing, just observing, and clearly thinking he was one of the party guests (which I guess he kind of was). Normally he’s asleep “for the night” around 8 or 9. I got home about half past 12 and settled him into his Rock ‘n’ Play (RNP) and he was out before I finished brushing my teeth. Too cute.

5 am
Liam starts fussing in the RNP. When we first brought him home from the hospital, I tried swaddling him and putting him in the bassinet like we did for Molly, but he totally hated it. I think he has some digestive/reflux issues, which is why the RNP’s slight elevation probably feels better for his tummy.

I sleepily reach over and pull him into bed with me and nurse him back to sleep. He skipped his 2 am feeding (probably because he was exhausted from staying up so late) so my left boob is rock hard and in pain. It quickly subsides as he eats. Both of us drift off to sleep. Eric’s alarm goes off and he turns it off without getting up.

7:30 am
I hear a little voice talking to her stuffed animals in the next room. For a couple of minutes she’s content amusing herself in her crib, then she starts yelling, “Mommy! Maaa meeeeee!” I turn over and notice that Eric is still in bed, which means he’s calling in sick to work. I figured he would since he has picked up the cold we were all fighting off the week before. Or as he calls it, “the man flu.”

7:35 am
I transfer Liam out of bed and put him in the RNP, then drag it into the hallway. I shut the door to the bedroom to keep the dogs in there with Eric. I go rescue Molly from her crib and push Liam in the RNP to the kitchen while carrying her.

7:37 am
Discover Bird has peed and pooped on the living room rug (which at this point is completely destroyed and needs to be replaced ASAP). He also peed on Molly’s chair, which is weird because he sits in it like it’s his chair, so why pee on it? I take apart her chair for like, the second time this week to wash the cover and vow to be better about keeping the bedroom door closed at night to keep this from happening.

7:45 am
Breakfast time. Molly gets watered down apple juice, sliced strawberries, and a pouch of strawberry Greek yogurt squeezed out into a bowl. She’s gotten really good with using a spoon and refuses to let me help. She also won’t eat the yogurt squeeze pouches the way they’re intended to be eaten, but they don’t sell the kid-portioned Greek yogurt in regular yogurt containers, just pouches. This morning I’m also making gluten free pancakes because I feel like it, though we usually have bacon and eggs. At the last minute I throw in chocolate chips just because why the hell not. I start coffee and throw the chair cover in the washer.

8:00 am
On my hands and knees scrubbing the living room rug. For like the hundredth time. While my breakfast gets cold. Contemplate throwing the rug or the dog or both out the back door.

8:15 am
Eric’s awake and takes the dogs out, then I feed them and give Ryder his pills when they come back in. We finally broke down and went to the vet for his itching problem, which turned out to be severe allergies. He’s currently on high dose steroids, which were $120 but totally worth it because they’re working and he’s no longer scratching himself raw. We also love our new vet, who costs wayyyyyy less than our last vet, expensive prescription notwithstanding.

Molly is done eating so I release her from her high chair. I glare at Bird and return to my cold coffee and pancakes.

8:40 am
Liam has dozed off in the RNP. I text my sister to see if she still wants to go to Kohls with me, but her daughter isn’t feeling well so she says she can’t make it out. I start the dishwasher as Molly wanders around the kitchen, and starts whining to go bye-bye even though I haven’t mentioned it. She hates being cooped up in the house (just like her mama!) and we didn’t go anywhere Thursday. I need to get a present for a birthday party Sunday (assuming we’ll be dug out of the snow by then) and socks for Molly because all of hers are way too small. Plus I have to run to Wegmans for groceries in anticipation of Snowmageddon 2016.

9 am
I get Molly dressed. Liam’s awake so I change him and force feed him a little since I’m taking advantage of Eric being home and leaving him behind, so I want him as full as possible. After feeding, I throw on my mom uniform of yoga pants, black tunic hoodie, and moccasins (as Eric calls it, my weird Assassin’s Creed outfit). I’ve reached the point of showering every other day, and this is the “other,” so a ponytail completes this very fashionable look.

9:08 am
Coats on and ready to go. Molly and I kiss the boys goodbye and depart.

9:20 am
Shopping at Kohls. We find a gift for the party, socks, and a new winter hat for Liam, whose big head has outgrown the one I bought when he was first born. I also find some slippers on clearance because I desperately need a new pair. I note how glamorous my life is now that clearance slippers at Kohls fill me with such joy.

9:45 am
We drive across the street to Wegmans, which as I figured it would be, is insanely crowded for a weekday morning. The huge snowstorm is scheduled to start in a few hours and everyone and their grandma is stocking up for French toast (Milk! Eggs! Bread!). We wander around and take our time, and I keep forgetting things and backtracking. This is not one of my more efficient trips. I think the crowds are distracting me.

10:45 am
Text from Eric: “Where are you? This boy is awake. And hungry.”

11 am
Ok, seriously. We need to get in line and check out. Did I even remember the eggs?

11:15 am
Home at last. I make Molly walk and carry all the groceries in at once, counting this as today’s arm workout. Since Liam isn’t really crying in earnest, I quickly put everything away before tending to him.

11:30 am
Nurse Liam and give Molly some string cheese. She’s started saying, “Eat! Eaaaat!” when she’s hungry, and it’s actually quite convenient knowing what she wants.

12 noon
As I was nursing I was also assessing the state of the dog hair, and determined it unacceptable. As soon as Liam has his fill I take out the vaccuum and begin an epic battle that I know I’ll never win. When I’m done, I flip the chair cover from the washer to the dryer. It’s still really wet and I don’t know why.

12:15 pm
Molly typcially goes down for a nap anywhere between 11 and 1, but if she’s still awake around noon she usually wants lunch first. Today she’s sleepy and hungry but opts for the food. For lunch today she has turkey lunch meat, a slice of cheese, a sweet potato, and apple slices.

Liam starts fussing in the RNP so I rock him with my foot while I eat leftover Thursday Soup, my new favorite meal to make. It’s so easy! You literally take all your leftovers from the previous few days and throw them together in some chicken broth to make a soup. Every week it tastes different based on what you’ve made prior. This week’s soup has pork roast, Italian chicken, some peppers that were going soft, half an onion, and baby purple potatoes. I left it simmering a little too long so it’s technically more like Thursday Stew.

12:30 pm
Molly did pretty well eating her lunch so I give in to her demands for a cookie. I eat the other half of her apple with my new obsession, maple sunflower seed butter. When Molly finishes her cookie she makes me give her the last apple slice. I hand it over even though I know she’ll just take two bites and throw it on the floor. How do you say no to a kid asking for an apple rather than another cookie?

12:50 pm
I unload the dishwasher. As I’m doing this, Molly gathers all of her kid utensils out of the silverware caddy and walks off with them. Liam is drifting between napping/fussing in the RNP nearby.

12:56 pm
Liam is screaming in earnest. I grab Molly and quickly put her down for a nap before settling down on the couch to nurse him. I briefly contemplate how often I solve problems with my breasts. Can’t imagine that will be so effective back at work.

1 pm
He only nurses briefly before drifting off to sleep. This has been a thing lately – he really wants to be held and cuddled to sleep, not left in the swing or the RNP. It’s just funny because I was constantly holding Molly at this age and she didn’t care one way or the other, but for Liam, who wants to be cuddled 24/7, I’m so much more likely to try to put him down in favor of doing chores or caring for Molly. Their birth orders should definitely be reversed.

Immobilized by Senor Cuddles-a-Lot, I pick up my Nook and start reading my latest book, The Turner House. I’ve set a goal of reading 50 books in 2016 and this is my fifth. I figure my speed of devouring books will drop off considerably once maternity leave ends.

1:30 pm
My eyes start getting heavy. I’m still tired from being up late the night before, so I take advantage of both kids napping and fall asleep on the couch.

2:30 pm
I wake up. Liam and his sweaty little head are still sleeping on my chest. All is quiet in Molly’s room, so I pick up my Nook and keep reading.

3:15 pm
I hear Molly calling, but since she asks for Dada before Mama and Liam is still asleep, I text Eric and ask him to go get her. He’s one room away in the office but I don’t want to yell and wake the baby.

3:30 pm
Molly wakes Liam by (accidentally) smacking him in the face with her baby doll’s hard plastic head. I soothe him with my boobs, as usual. Like my mother before me I call them “ninnies,” and this is quickly becoming Molly’s favorite thing to say. She loves pointing at my chest and saying “A ninny! A ninny!” A few minutes after I start nursing Liam and we agree several times that he’s having a ninny, she tells me her baby needs a ninny and smushes its face up against her chest. I can just picture the gods of breastfeeding smiling down on me in this moment.

4 pm
Molly has stopped feeding her baby and tossed it aside. Bored, she asks to watch Caillou. Ugh! These days we rotate between Daniel Tiger (“Ty-er”), Doc McStuffins (“Doc”), Peppa Pig (“Pehhhhhhpa Pig”), and the dreaded, horrifically obnoxious, weirdly primary colored, inexplicably bald whiny toddler named Caillou (“Kah-you”). I sigh and oblige, mentally congratulating myself that I’ve made it almost a full day without turning the television on. Another perk of not sitting at home.

I’m jotting down notes for this post in the kitchen when Molly comes in saying, “Eat! Eat!” Does this kid ever stop?

4:15 pm
I get Molly a snack of Pirate Booty and return to the living room to feed a screaming Liam.

For the next couple hours we just kind of hang out. Molly wrestles with Eric on the floor, retrieves various toys from her room, plays, and sometimes stops to notice the endless whining of Caillou on the telly. Some highlights:

-She likes climbing up on the couch and looking out the living room window, and calls my van parked out front a “bye-bye.”
-Her favorite Christmas present by far is a collection of three bath toys – Elmo, Cookie Monster, and Ernie. She calls them Elmo, Cookie, and Duck (because Ernie is wearing a duck flotation device). Never shall the three be separated. She brings them everywhere.
-She also has a little baby doll she got for Christmas (this year’s theme was babies.) The other night Eric was messing around and made the baby “walk,” while singing a little jingle – “Walka walk around, walk around!” She thought this was hilarious. Now she makes the baby walk and sings the song. She makes me do the same. If I’m in the living room and instruct her to “Go get walk around baby” she’ll totally go in her room and find it. I love it.
-After a second spin in the dryer, Molly’s chair cover is finally dry. I start the arduous task of putting the chair back together while sternly telling Bird the chair is MINE and he MAY NOT pee on it again. Eric reminds me that the chair isn’t mine (because it’s Molly’s). Thanks, dear.
-I pick up my book again and start reading. I put it on the foot of Liam’s RNP and alternate between reading and cooing at him, since he’s awake and talkative. Two months is such a hard age. He can’t “do” anything, but I feel bad just ignoring him in his chair. He’s very sociable and loves when we pay attention to him. He’s also really into watching the ceiling fan spin around.

hangin’ out

5:45 pm
I leave to go get pizza. Friday pizza night is the best! My favorite place is way over on the other side of town and doesn’t deliver, but I really wanted it, so I got it. Eric only orders Papa John’s because they are the only place that will deliver to us. I think it’s worth it to get mom and pop pizza, not chain, so I usually offer to go pick it up from wherever.

6:15 pm
I arrive home with the pizza. In their exuberance at my return, the dogs almost knock it out of my hands and I scream. NOT THE PIZZA!

6:20 pm
Dinner time. Pizza is also one of Molly’s favorite meals, and I can always count on her to finish a whole slice, but today she only eats half of one and picks the cheese off the rest and leaves the bread. So she’s NOT her mother’s daughter, then (I’m a crust girl). After a heated debate over whether pizza should be flat or folded, I put the question out on Facebook and am amazed at the huge response. Also, amazed that so many misguided individuals fold their pizza. Heathens.

After dinner Molly wants another cookie. I’m glad I bought the mini sized ones so I don’t have to feel as guilty for giving in. We head back to the living room to hang out and play for a while before bedtime.

7:30 pm
Time to brush teeth. Luckily, this is one of her favorite things to do.

7:35 pm
Bedtime. It’s a little early (I’ve been shooting for 8, especially in anticipation of going back to work and having less quality time with her), but she’s cranky and it’s been a long day. I put her in her PJs, turn on her lullabies, switch off the light, and say goodnight, once again thanking my lucky stars that she’s so easy to put to bed.

7:45 pm
I was feeling smug but now she’s sort of crying and yelling, “Mummy!” This is not typical. I wait a couple minutes and she gets quiet.

7:50 pm
She’s obviously asleep but now Liam is starting to fuss. Typical.

8 pm
I feed him a little but before I know it he’s asleep. Again, the boy just wants to be held and cuddled. I had planned on writing this post after Molly went to bed but that’s not happening now that I have to hold this sleeping baby, who will surely wake up the minute I try to put him down.

I turn to Eric to tell him to put on a show (with cable long cancelled, we’re currently making our way through The Blacklist) but he has fallen asleep. Damn man flu. Once again immobilized on the couch with a sleeping baby, I pick up my Nook. I’ve just finished The Turner House so I start on After You. I think about how I want a snack but there’s really nothing good in the kitchen, plus getting up would risk waking the baby. I applaud myself for intentionally buying Molly cookies that I don’t like. My plan is working! Bikini by summer, woo hoo! (Stop laughing. I’m serious. Kind of.)

9 pm
*Yawn* I’m so cool that I’m going to bed at 9 pm on Friday. And that’s ok.

If you’re still here 3,000 words later, I thank you. I can’t believe I had this much to say about basically nothing.

Enjoy the blizzard, all you East Coasters. I’m having fun so far because we still have power. If we lose that, I’ll be singing a different tune.

Stay safe and warm!

Jan 01

new year, still grateful

Jan 01

Timehop has me reminiscing hardcore today. Not just about 2015, but about all of it.

New Year’s Eve 2012 was the day I officially began IVF. My first injection. The crazy hope that it would lead somewhere positive (no pun intended). And also, when I read between the lines of the post I wrote that day, the smugness of believing it would work on the first try because at that time, I fervently believed that IVF was the answer to all my problems. It was, in a way. It was and it wasn’t.

We went to a party at the same house last night as we did on that night in 2012. That night I was filled with trepidation and hope and anxiety and I’m pretty sure I drank my way through it. I had been in Manhattan all day doing battle with the lab to get my results so I could begin the clinical trial. Then I had to rush uptown to a pharmacy before they closed before hurrying back to get on a bus to ride 2 hours home. I was so naive, so unsure, and terrified. I remember arriving at the party and trying to explain to someone what was happening. There were no words to convey everything I was feeling. It was like standing on the edge of a cliff and getting ready to jump into a dark unknown.

It’s funny – I never thought I’d forget where I started out, but I definitely do. It gets lost between the mundane everyday moments of wiping yogurt off a smiling little face and turning on that 35th episode of Daniel Tiger and changing the bajillionith poopy diaper. Deep down I always remember, but on the surface I forget.

So anyway, we went to that same party last night. But instead of drinking (like, at all, besides those few sips of champagne at midnight) I nursed my newborn son. Instead of worrying if I’d ever get to be a mom, I carried my two sleeping babies out to the car a little after the ball dropped, helped carry them into our house and tucked them in for the night. I can’t believe how lucky we are, how blessed we are. I can’t believe that 3 years later I have all of this.

And even though I didn’t drink last night, I did stay up until 2:30 because Eric and I have been binge watching Making a Murderer on Netflix and decided to watch one more ep last night. (It’s sooooo good.) So I’m also really thankful my two sweet babies chose today to sleep in until 9am. 2016 is going great so far!

Sorry that I never got around to a Christmas recap. It’s amazing how I manage to fill my days even though I’m not working right now. It gets to the point that I say, “I’m so busy! How did I ever have time to work, anyway?!” I think a lot of that will die down now that the holidays are over. The only thing on my January agenda is to organize my massive photo collections from the past few years. I’d really like to start making giant albums at the end of every year… sort of like lazy man’s scrapbooks. I’m going to try to be better about marking and filing photos to include in it throughout the year so it’s easier in December, but I also need to go back through and make one for 2015. And 2014. It’s no small task.

Real quick about Christmas – it was a lot more fun than last year. It’s so easy to shop for Molly now that I know her better… I knew exactly what she’d like to get. This year featured lots of babies to take care of, Elmo, and musical instruments. One of her favorite gifts is a kit of alphabet letters with Elmo on it. Whenever she sees it she yells, “The ed-a-det!” and then starts singing the song. I don’t think I’ve ever sang the ABC’s so much in my life.

“What’s all this?”

*zzzz*

so many babies, so little time

THE ED-A-DET!

…and more babies!

Christmas jammies

Liam was not so easy to shop for, and he didn’t get much stuff, but he didn’t seem to mind. This week he turned 1 month old. Not much to report… still eating like a champ, still looking indignant/pissed off most of the time but also starting to smile more, which feels like even more of a treat since his default mode is so opposite. He’s really starting to hold his head up and has already outgrown his newborn outfits and diapers. At the doctor last week he weighed 9lbs, 8oz, putting him in the 50th percentile for weight and somehow the 75th for height. Whose kid is this, anyway?!

little Liam isn’t so little

In related news, I feel like I’ve been out of work forever. I remember with Molly that 8 weeks was just the point that I started to think, “Ok, I think she’s sturdy enough to be left with someone else now, just for a few hours a day.” I don’t know if it’s because I’ve done this before or because Liam is so much bigger and more solid than she was at 5 weeks old, but I’ll just say it – if someone told me I had to go back to work tomorrow, I’d be sad of course, but I also think I’d be totally OK with it. Maybe that’s weird to say but it’s true. In a perfect world I’d stay home with my babies full time (though I would need to freelance or something, I’m beginning to realize, just for my own sanity). But I do like my job and I DEFINITELY like it better than where I worked before, so I don’t think my return to work will be awful. Plus my sister is already obsessed with Liam so I know he’s in good hands.

Enough rambling. I’m not one for resolutions (besides the obvious – lose 50 lbs before our beach trip in July). But here’s one I think I’ll try… this year, I’m going to make a real effort to let go. Can I be super cheesy right now and say “Let go and let God?” Because if there’s anything that 2015 taught me, it’s that you never know what’s just around the corner. You can make all the plans you want but sometimes, life happens very differently than how you think it will. I really doubt 2016 has another surprise baby in it for us but if it does, we’ll handle it. I have an amazing family and these beautiful children and truly, I could not ask for more.

I hope 2016 is magical for each and every one of you.

Happy New Year!

Dec 16

ok, now you can hate me less

Dec 16

I don’t know why I jinxed myself and wrote a post like that last one.

First, it was awkward seeing people who I know read my blog, because I felt like I should be perma-happy since I said I was so super duper happy, right? Which is ridiculous but that’s just how it felt after writing a glowing review of life like that. I took Molly to a playdate on Friday and was terrified she’d start behaving like a little terror right after I just said how good she is all the time. Also, I wasn’t in a great mood. Not for any particular reason. But I guess there are just good days and bad days, and even though I’m still very happy most of the time, I’m not happy all the time. I mean, obviously.

So now that’s settled.

Sunday I hosted a successful cookie exchange and it was a lot of fun but I’m glad is over. Prepping for parties is no joke, even when you’re not working! Just trying to keep the dog hair in check was a full-time occupation. But everyone showed up and the cookies were delicious, though now I wish we didn’t have so many in the house. Molly has begun asking for cookies at the completion of every meal, including breakfast (and it’s very hard to say no to her, especially with how sweetly she says, “Thank you, mama” when I give her one).

Monday morning I woke up with the worst pain ever in my right boob. Instantly I knew – clogged duct. Remember how I said I have to keep waking him up to eat? Well, I’m not so worried about him because he’s gaining weight and peeing and pooping, but as for my boobs, I seem to be overproducing milk and that’s really not good. By mid-morning I had the worst headache, severe chills, and a fever of 101. I couldn’t stop thinking of that Nyquil commercial where the moms and dads pretend to call in sick to their toddlers, because that’s totally what I felt like doing. Again, I felt very blessed to have a non-needy child who does not mind parking in front of Sesame Street for a few hours, because I was down for the count. I was also lucky enough to have a recently filled prescription for antibiotics on hand, because I’m assuming based on my symptoms that this was classic mastitis. One day later and I’m already feeling much, much better. Also, Liam seems to have gotten the memo because ever since then he’s been eating more and more often. Go figure.

Some other slightly surprising news is that I think it may be time to start Molly on potty training. I know – the kid is going to be 18 months old next week, how can this be? But for the past few days she has been telling me every time she has to go/has just gone poo by coming up to me, looking me right in the eye and saying, “I poo poo.” The one time she didn’t tell me around dinner time and just shrieked and cried when I tried putting her in her highchair, which is very unlike her, until finally I figured out that she was horrified I would leave her in a dirty diaper for a mealtime (but she hadn’t told me!). I guess this shouldn’t be too surprising – my mom said I was fully trained by 18 months. She knew I was ready when I began pulling off my own dirty diapers and handing them to her… something I can totally see Molly doing any day now. So we added a little potty to her Christmas list. Now I just have to begin the daunting task of researching tips, tricks, and methods for training… Lord help me.

Other than that, not too much going on. Eric has been really getting into photography and since we’re operating on a tight budget as usual, he opted to take our Christmas card photos and Liam’s newborn photos. I think they came out great, and I don’t even feel as fat/ugly as I did in last year’s card. Yay! I’m not going to share those photos here yet because I like them to be a little surprise for everyone who gets a card (silly, but true), but I do have some other photos since more than one of you yelled at me for my last picture-less post. Sorry! Truth be told, I haven’t been great about taking pictures lately. I need to try harder.

So I wasn’t going to share this story because it’s really terrible but I can’t help it, I’m an oversharer. Earlier tonight Eric went up to the attic and left the door open (we have a walk-up attic). A few minutes later I walked by, probably muttered some expletive, then closed the door and turned off the light. A few minutes after that, we were arguing about something stupid when all of the sudden I turned to him and said, “Where’s Molly?” A frantic checking of her room, the kitchen, and the living room turned up nothing. That’s when I remembered – oh shit – the attic! I ran up the stairs and found her standing completely still, right next to the open stairwell, not even crying or doing anything, just standing there in dark. Seriously, almost had a heart attack! Lesson learned… there will now be a gate permanently in place. And no more doors left open. Yikes.

And with that Parent of the Year moment, I bid you farewell. Rest assured that I’m not perfect, I’m not always happy, and sometimes I lock my child in the attic.

Now for the promised photos:

she loved decorating the tree

very proud of herself for helping

“WHY ARE YOU LETTING THIS SCARY PERSON HOLD ME?”

*cue hearts melting*

2 weeks old

Dec 11

don’t hate me for this post

Dec 11

Seriously, I’m going to sound like a complete asshole but I just have to be honest right now. One day shy of two weeks into parenting two children and I have the following to report: so far, it’s been… easy.

Ridiculously easy.

A friend recently sent me a link to a blog post that was all about adjusting to life with two kids. It was very well written and inspiring, and had gorgeous photos, but in regards to the adjustment… yeah, there really hasn’t been one for me. With the exception of that one overwhelming moment while we were still in the hospital, so far, nothing monumental has happened. In fact, things are better than they were before because, A) I have a sweet new little human to shower with love and kisses and, B) I get to spend a lot more time with my other small human and get to know her even more. Plus, I don’t have to work for 9 weeks and I’m still getting paid. It’s pretty awesome.

Basically, if you are trying to talk yourself or someone you know into a having a second child, give me a call. I’m also available for calming fears about getting your wisdom teeth out (I had a really painless, easy experience with that too).

I was a little nervous about Eric going back to work because that first week, we had naturally split up kid responsibilities – so if he was tending to Molly, I was tending to Liam, and vice versa. But then Monday morning he was gone and I was home alone with both of them and it was still fine.

For one thing, I am exceptionally blessed when it comes to Molly. She is so well-behaved, and so good at entertaining herself when needed. She loves playing with other kids and socializing, but when we are home alone she’s perfectly content to play in her room with her toys, or play with colanders in the kitchen while I’m cooking, or even just stand in the middle of the room and spin around in circles to entertain herself. When I say “no,” she (usually) stops what she’s doing. She’s still not jealous of the baby. She’s seriously the sweetest, most good-natured, mature, self-sufficient, and lovely 17 month old I’ve ever met.

That’s not to say she’s perfect all the time – she does overreact when she doesn’t get her way sometimes, or if something (a toy, her iPhone, etc) doesn’t work the way it’s supposed to. But usually when that happens it’s just an indicator that it’s naptime or bedtime.

As for Liam, he’s your typical 2 week old. He sleeps, eats, poops, and sleeps some more. He’s starting to be awake for longer stretches but for the most part, it’s just a lot of sleeping. One thing that’s different between him and Molly at this age is that he eats more in one sitting and eats less frequently. It’s actually quite convenient because I don’t spend as much time nursing.

One reason I think it’s easier this time around despite the fact that it’s technically more work is that now I have confidence in how to be a mom (momfidence?). Right or not, I feel well-equipped to handle a newborn. I also know exactly what Molly wants and needs.

I’m hosting a holiday cookie exchange this Sunday and all week I’ve been busy preparing for it. More than one friend called me crazy when I scheduled the party, knowing that I’d have these two kids plus all the stress and time that goes into planning a party. I guess I was crazy since I didn’t know what to expect – things could be going the exact opposite of how they are going. But they’re not.

On Monday I completely cleaned out my dining room, which we had been using as a storage area for years but is the only logical place to set up 84 dozen cookies. I hauled crap to the attic and basement, vacuumed, dusted, and reorganized everything, and then followed up by cleaning out and reorganizing the front hall closet and doing the same for underneath the kitchen sink. And that was just by 2pm. I’ve been able to clean every day, and I’ll admit I was a little proud when Eric’s mom said, “I’ve never seen your house so clean” when she stopped by today. I’ve got shit UNDER CONTROL.

On Wednesday I met my sister-in-law and her friends for a coffee date at a cute little place in town I’ve never been to. After that I took Molly to story hour at the library, which I’ve also never been to (because it’s at 11:15 on a Wednesday probably). It was adorable. Life is adorable. I’m sorry. Don’t hate me.

As is probably evident from all the heavy lifting I’ve been doing (literally), my physical recovery has been great this time. I was taking Percocet the first couple days but have since stepped it down to just popping a few ibuprofen occasionally. The area around my incision sometimes hurts when I’m going to bed (which I assume is because I push it too hard during the day, running around like a moron hauling dining room chairs to the attic).

Even taking the kids out grocery shopping wasn’t as difficult as I anticipated it would be. It did take twice as long, mostly because getting into and out of the car was quite a production. I put Molly in the cart like usual and put Liam in the Moby wrap, which worked out really well. Actually, it was my first time using the wrap with him (which did make me feel that familiar second child guilt because he looooved sleeping in it). He is definitely a cuddly little boy and loves being held and kept warm and snuggly. Anyway, it made me feel bad that the kid is almost 2 weeks old and I’ve yet to start with babywearing. I think once this party is over and done I’ll be less obsessive about cleaning and can maybe just relax and snuggle like he wants to. It’s been very mild here in PA this past week, so being out and about has been quite pleasant, but if January is bitter cold I won’t be dragging the little ones out everywhere.

Also, Eric and I have been getting along really well – again, better than normal. The kids and I got home really late from the grocery store the other night because as I mentioned above, shopping definitely does take longer. I walked in the door and of course that was the exact moment Liam needed to eat and it was 6:00 and I hadn’t even started dinner – an elaborate Pinterest meal that had sounded brilliant in the early afternoon but not so much when everyone was hungry and cranky. Without complaint he took up the spatula and cooked the whole meal, which may not sound like a big deal, but he is not normally one for cooking and especially not after working all day. So yeah, marriage is good, kids are good, all is good. I really do feel like something bad is destined to happen because everything is going way too well.

You want to know the most stressful thing in my life right now? Well, two things. And not the two kids.

First – these dogs. These damn dogs. I used to be all judgy towards people who got rid of their dogs after having kids but now I’m starting to get it, especially since I have the neediest dog known to man (that’s Ryder). He has some sort of skin issue that’s been going on for months now and I’m at my wits end. He gets very itchy, sensitive skin whenever the seasons change and this year it’s worse than ever. The itchiness causes him to bite at himself, which leaves his skin raw, bloody, and disgusting. We put a cone on him and he’s literally been wearing it for a month now because he won’t. stop. biting. himself. Every time we think maybe he’s better, we’ll leave the cone off for a few minutes and he’ll rip open all his scabs and do it all over again. Couple that with a few nasty bouts of diarrhea all over the place and some peeing in the kitchen just because he didn’t feel like waiting, and you have one hell of a fun time! (I’ve tried everything for the skin issues – Benadryl, sprays, creams, coconut oil, everything. We haven’t changed his food in years and we don’t allow him to eat human food. So I’m at a total loss for what to do.)

Bird doesn’t have nearly so many issues but he has started peeing on the living room rug daily for no particular reason. Except to ruin my perfect reverie of existence, obviously. We aren’t going to get rid of them because they are part of the family, but they are seriously driving me nuts.

The second point of stress has nothing to do with being unhappy and everything to do with being happy.

I keep reading all these posts urging mothers of young children to cherish every moment, because we will miss them once the kids are grown. Well, I already know that, and my time spent with these kids is so brief that I find myself stressing out over being too happy. For every cute thing Molly does or says, for every moment I catch myself feeling totally content and blissful, I also feel wistful knowing that the moment is fleeting and that they’ll be grown in no time. It’s like I know these are the best days of my life, and I want to hold onto them for as long as I can. I have something known as “nostalgia for the present.” I can’t even enjoy myself half the time because I’m so happy that it makes me sad. Is that totally insane? I already feel crazy enough that I think going from one kid to two is easy because I’ve never come across that reaction before. Sleep deprived, yes. Overwhelmed, yes. But I’ve yet to hear from anyone else having a strangely effortless experience like mine. I can’t be the only one…

I also realize that this two kids thing is bound to get harder. Once they grow up and start bickering, once we throw a third kid into the mix and are outnumbered… it’s not like I think this dreamy happy world can last forever. I mean, it’s going to change a whole lot when I have to go back to work in February. But for now, I’m completely joyful.

It’s pretty great. And I’m 100% grateful.

Dec 05

baby boy’s birth story

Dec 05

How has it been a week already?

You know when you have a newborn and the days just slip by and you’re left wondering, “What in the hell did I do all day?” Well, having a newborn and a toddler compounds that feeling by a million. I’ve been intending to sit down and write out this birth story every day, but even the simplest tasks seem to take hours and my perfectly reasonable to-do list never seems to get shorter. Of course it doesn’t help that it’s December, which is busy for just about everyone.

Anyway! Some of the more observant among you may have already noticed that I delivered a week past my due date… meaning… I DID make it to my one year work anniversary, and so I DO get the good maternity leave. Woo freaking HOOOO! On Tuesday morning I brought everyone a huge breakfast smorgasbord to celebrate. I left work on Tuesday night feeling awesome, and also ready to go into labor. At that point I figured it was a mental thing and maybe just thinking it would be enough to bring it on. No such luck.

Since I anticipated being early and couldn’t even imagine making it past Tuesday, I had finished up/handed off all my work and didn’t see the point of starting anything new for just one day. Rather than going in and twiddling my thumbs all day, I decided to start my leave on Wednesday and just use the day to wrap up last minute errands and spend some quality time with my little girl. Plus, it was Eric’s birthday, so I went over to his mom’s house and we baked him cupcakes and ended up having a birthday dinner with some of the family. It was nice…but still no baby.

Thursday morning was more of the same. I was on the “maybe” list for Thanksgiving, but I ended up going to Eric’s family gathering, skipping my family since theirs was over an hour away and I had my Friday morning induction scheduled for 7AM. We ate way too much, played some games, then drove over to Eric’s parent’s house to drop Molly off for her very first sleepover. By this point I was nervous as hell. One way or another, that baby would be out in 24 hours.

And then it was go time.

WARNING: I’ve included a few slightly graphic post-birth pictures below. Nothing too extreme, but there is a bit of blood, so I wanted to mention it before I shock and horrify someone.

Friday, November 27th (Black Friday!)

7AM
We arrived and got set up in the birthing room, where I donned my lovely hospital gown and got all ready to go. After they hooked me up to the monitors I was surprised to find out that I was, in fact, having contractions, about 8 to 12 minutes apart. I didn’t feel them at all, so it’s possible that my worst fear came true and I’m one of those people who doesn’t know she’s in labor. But really, they didn’t hurt! Baby boy was moving around like crazy as usual, so maybe he was just covering them up.

baby time selfie!

I got checked and was still only 1cm, 50% effaced (despite the fact that they’d said 70% effaced at my previous OB/GYN check, but whatever).

And despite the fact that I wasn’t nearly as swollen as last time, it once again took three different nurses multiple tries to get the IV in. Ugh, I have crappy veins! It was so unpleasant getting stuck over and over again. This time I managed not to cry, though.

Ouchie. Why do my veins suck so much?

8:15AM
My OB decided to use a foley balloon to get things moving along. For those of you not familiar with this technique, a foley balloon is a small catheter that’s inserted past the cervix and inflated, then attached to a weight. I was told it could take between 15 minutes and 12 hours to fall out on its own. I was also encouraged to walk around to help the process, so Eric and I started making awkward laps around the maternity wing, with me walking as normally as I could with a weighted saline bag hanging down the side of my leg. I did start feeling stronger contractions and had to stop every few minutes to catch my breath. About 35 minutes after we set out, I suddenly felt something very strange happening, so I turned to Eric and said, “I think it’s coming out. Yes, it’s definitely coming out. You need to go get someone.” It wasn’t very painful though, just very weird/awkward, especially since it fell out in a (thankfully empty) hallway.

8:50AM
I got back in bed and was immediately checked after our little walk and was at 5cm and having regular contractions – yay! My optimistic mind started to think maybe I could even have the baby by lunchtime. My sister – who works retail and was scheduled to work 10-2 (this was Black Friday, remember), started panicking that she was going to miss the whole thing.

My OB was doing a c-section at this point so I didn’t start Pitocin immediately. I’d say my pain level was about a 3 on the 10 scale.

9:45AM

Started Pitocin. Time to get the party rolling.

11AM

Surprisingly, the pain did not increase too much with the Pitocin, but I still managed to psych myself out since it just hurt so badly when I was in labor with Molly. It helped that the anesthesiologist who came by to introduce himself earlier was very nice and competent and had 30 years of experience. I told him about how much the epidural hurt going in last time so he researched my case and found that a student had been the one to administer the epidural (which I don’t remember at all). He promised that it wouldn’t be like that this time, if I chose to get one. I wanted to hold out and see if I could handle it on my own…but I was nervous.

So I got the epidural.

As promised, it went in just fine and barely hurt at all – just a quick burning sensation and it was over. I was told to lay on my side and let them know if I felt dizzy or lightheaded. Less than 5 minutes after getting the epidural, I started to feel funny all over, and then everything happened very, very quickly. My blood pressure started dramatically dropping and I was shaking and throwing up. It was 70/something, then lower – the lowest it got was 54/30. At the same time this was going on they also lost the baby’s heart rate completely on the external monitor. So once again a flurry of people rushed into the room while my poor husband was stuck in the hallway wondering what the hell was going on (my sister had found someone to cover her at work and had arrived by this point, but she and my mom and my other sister had all headed to the cafeteria to grab breakfast, so they had no idea about the drama unfolding).

Even though I was in distress myself, I was much more worried about the baby and the fact that they couldn’t find a heart rate at all. They stabilized me pretty quickly and then used an internal probe to try to get a read on the baby. The whole thing probably lasted less than 10 minutes but felt like a lifetime. I was terrified that 1) somehow the epidural had caused the baby’s heart to stop beating or, 2) we would need to have an emergency c-section. Luckily, they found the heart rate and eventually everyone cleared out and the commotion died down. Phew! Crisis averted.

12PM

They had stopped my Pitocin while the drama was unfolding and started it back up again at noon. Over the next two hours a pattern emerged – they would start the pit, lose the baby’s heart rate and/or get low reads, and then have to stop it until he stabilized to start up again. He was moving a lot and we were back to the external HR monitor, but still, it was clear that his heart rate was dropping every time I had a contraction. At that point I stubbornly tried to tell myself that it wasn’t really dropping, just getting lost since he was so squirmy, but my doctor did not agree with this assessment. They also put in another monitor to measure the strength of my contractions.

This birth thing takes too long, apparently. Part of my support team had to take a power nap.

2:15PM

After a couple hours of stops and starts, my doctor came in to check me. Unfortunately, I was still at exactly the same place – 5cm. She went over to the sink to wash her hands, and with a big sigh she said, “Amanda, I’ve been doing this a long time. We can try a few more things to try to make this work, but I can already tell you it’s going to end up as a c-section. The baby just isn’t liking what we’re doing here, and you’re stuck at 5cm because we can’t keep increasing the Pitocin when his heart rate isn’t stabilized. So you can either do it now, when you have some control, or it could end up as an emergency c-section later. It’s up to you.”

She wasn’t trying to be mean… just honest. I knew it was a possibility all along and a stronger possibility since I had had one before, but still, it was a crushing blow. Especially since making good progressions was one of the reasons she originally proclaimed me a good candidate for a VBAC.

At that juncture a c-section just made the most sense. There was more risk involved the more things she tried (such as pushing more fluid into my uterus to try to ease the baby’s distress, which could increase my chances of a rupture). This time I didn’t cry. I just nodded and accepted that c-section was our fate…again.

2:28PM

I got prepped and rolled back for my repeat c-section.

this looks familiar

Everything was pretty much the same as last time – same bright lights, same giant curtain to hide all the gory details. After just a few minutes of pressure and a distant tugging sensation, our little Liam was pulled out into the world at 2:54 PM with a strong, healthy cry.

he’s here!

thanks for the cuddles, Nurse Larry

“I’m mad… and cold. Mostly mad, though.”

I found out a little later what all the distress was about – apparently he had the cord wrapped around his neck twice, and tightly, which explains the heart rate decels during contractions. Also, alarmingly, my doctor said that when she cut me open to do the c-section, my uterus was stretched so thin at the original incision site that she could literally see the baby’s hair before she cut into it. Um, wow… good thing we didn’t try to push fluid in.

One of the reasons this c-section was so hard to accept was that my OB/GYN is a twice and done kind of place, meaning that once you’ve had two c-sections, you’re not allowed to try for another VBAC. I know there are some doctors who will attempt a VBAC with a 3rd pregnancy (even found out it has it’s own acronym, VBAC2), but honestly switching doctors just to do that feels like it’s not worth it. Plus it seems my babies prefer c-sections. For my next child I’ll probably just schedule the c-section and not even worry about it, especially now that I know exactly what to expect in terms of procedure and recovery. Although my doctor quipped later on, “Watch, we’ll schedule you for 38 weeks and your next one will slip right out at 37 weeks as a surprise VBAC.” I guess anything is possible. I’m going to try not to worry about it just yet.

Afterwards

I got wheeled back to recovery and got to hold and nurse my son, which went well from the start! He has a strong latch and took right to it like an old pro.

born to eat, apparently

My mother-in-law brought Molly to the hospital while I was still in recovery and we took some family photos – I look clearly exhausted but that’s to be expected.

Everyone took turns holding our little man.

Molly arrives to meet her new little bro

Nanni and Liam

Aunt Ashley

Granddad and little man

Aunt Allie

Uncle Michael

Nana’s 6th grandson

oh, my heart

First photo as a family of 4

it was an exhausting day

The next few days went well, much better than last time with the exception of Day 2 for various reasons. I jotted down some notes so I’ll just do bullet points for the rest of the things.

-Remember our terrible pediatrician last time who I was convinced was trying to steal and keep my baby? Well, I definitely picked the right one this time! She was young (so I felt like I could relate to her) and very good, to the point that I would consider sending my kids to her if her office wasn’t like 35 minutes from my house. And get this – she has three children named Molly, Liam, and Aiden (which is my nephew’s name). What are the odds?!

-Liam has a sacral dimple, which is a deep indentation right above his butt that is usually harmless but could be an indicator of spina bifida. We had to do an ultrasound in the hospital but thankfully it came back normal. So now it’s just another place I have to wipe when I change his bajillion poopy diapers.

-It’s truly amazing the difference between having a 5lb baby and a 7lb baby. Last time we had what felt like a hundred people looking over our shoulders, checking and scrutinizing feeding logs and making us feel completely incompetent at nourishing our child. This time, since he only lost 1 ounce the first day and 4 ounces the second, no one paid much mind to when or how much he was eating. We were sure to take meticulous notes just based on prior experience, but since he was so good at breastfeeding from the get-go, it wasn’t an issue at all.

-Right after my surgery I was on morphine, and that was great, but the second day I got switched to Dilaudid (another narcotic painkiller) and it did n-o-t-h-i-n-g. Seriously, I must have some kind of intolerance to this particular medication, because I might as well have been injected with sugar water. Every time I felt pain, they pushed it straight into my IV, and then… nothing. No relief. So that second day was kind of like hell.

On a related note, Eric brought Molly to the hospital on Saturday around 9am and she spent the day with us there. He came loaded up with a bag full of toys, and intentions of pulling out the cot for naptime. I guess we underestimated how small the room was, and even more so with toys everywhere… Molly is a very well-behaved child and is very good at entertaining herself, but that’s a looooong day. Plus this was Day 2, when my pain meds were not working at all, so I couldn’t hold her or cuddle with her like she wanted me to, which was frustrating and heartbreaking for both of us. Nap time was a complete disaster because every time she’d start to think about drifting off, someone would walk in the room for one reason or another or there’d be loud noises in the hallway. Finally, after all of us reaching our wits end, Eric took her home in the late afternoon and quickly lined up a babysitter for the next day so he could actually get to spend time with me and Liam (since he was so busy attending to her, he barely got a chance to hold him).

Right before they left I had my one and only epic meltdown. Eric had to use the bathroom so he went down the hall and left Molly running loose in the room. I was nursing Liam and she was overtired and cranky at that point, and decided to crawl behind the hospital bed and get stuck and start crying. Prior to that she had knocked my nurse call button onto the floor and my pain was intense at that point. I sat there immobilized in bed, listening to her scream (after a full afternoon of whining and crying, mind you) and I was just so exhausted and overwhelmed that I started bawling at the notion of these two needy children to take care of. Eric and the nurse came in at the exact same time to find me sobbing and helpless. Of course it was all resolved quickly and I returned to a rational state not long after. So far, that’s been my only “moment.”

So my advice for anyone with toddlers – a day at the hospital with the new baby is NOT a good idea (saying that now makes me feel silly, like duh, we should have known that). The following day (Sunday), Eric dropped Molly off with my sister and then his sister came by later to pick her up and take her to a birthday party. I got text updates all day and it was clear that she had a blast, plus Eric and I were much more calm and relaxed not worrying about her all day and just focusing on Liam. Oh, and I had switched to a combination of Percocet/Motrin by that point, so my pain levels were much better. AND I got to shower finally. That’s a guaranteed mood lifter.

-Falling in love with Liam was not the same as with Molly. With her, I was so overwhelmed from the first minute I met her… I was a mommy, finally. She was so tiny and precious and waves of love just washed over me. With him, it’s not that I loved him less – just that I was better prepared on what to expect. If anything, I think falling in love with him happened more slowly, growing gradually over those couple of days in the hospital as I got acquainted with him and his individual quirks. So I ended up in the same place – totally head over heels crazy about him – but got there on a different path, if that makes any sense.

-Liam has the best grumpy face ever. He really just looks mad at the world all the time, and it’s totally adorable. Not that Molly was smiling at this age, but she always had a very inquisitive and good-natured expression… Liam, not so much. I was watching him the other day and I figured out the word for how he looks isn’t quite angry, it’s more like indignant. Like he totally resents the fact that we made him come out. It’ll be funny to see if that matches his personality as time goes by.

indignant, personified

I have more to share but this post is creeping up towards 3,000 words and has taken me two full days to write, ha. I’ll wrap up by saying that the adjustment has gone even better than I could have imagined. We got home from the hospital Monday afternoon and Eric was able to take off until Wednesday and work from home Thursday and Friday, so I got to ease into this parenting two kids thing with help. Molly is IN LOVE with Liam. She loves showing off “her baby” and the first thing she says to me every morning when I fetch her from her crib is, “Baby? Baby? Baby?” She likes to pat him and point to his nose and ears and cover him with his blanket when he’s in his Rock ‘n’ Play. Every time she takes care of him I die a little from happiness.

Not sure how I got so lucky, but I am damn grateful. I truly could not ask for more.

“Dad, did you see this baby?”

“I just gotta kiss him”

there, there little bro

these two…

one week old already!

Nov 28

he’s here!

Nov 28

Introducing Liam Hurd Harding, born November 27th at 2:54 p.m. A hearty 7 lbs, 3 oz, 20.5 inches long.

You know the drill – long and dramatic birth story to follow, because, of course there is! But so far we are all adjusting well and his sister really likes him. For some reason she calls him “Cotton Candy” (or something indecipherable that just sounds like Cotton Candy).

Nov 20

40 weeks today, and now we have a plan

Nov 20

I made it to 40 weeks, woo hoo! Baby boy just has to stay in there 4 more days for me to get the good maternity leave. The closer we get to the 24th, the more I believe it’s actually possible.

I had my last OB appointment this morning and I’m still 1cm dilated, now 70% effaced. At my appointment we discussed all my options. Over the past few days I’ve spent a good amount of time on Google (bad idea) and read horror stories about being induced along with horror stories about waiting. All of it is very confusing and stressful and really the only consensus seems to be that going into labor naturally is best for mother and baby, which I do believe, but also cannot control.

Here’s my catch-22:

1) Being induced decreases chances of a successful VBAC
2) Going past 40 weeks decreases chances of a successful VBAC

Basically I’m damned if I do and damned if I don’t. A few reasons I was leaning towards induction at 41 weeks:

1) My preferred doctor will be in the hospital all day Friday and will be able to keep a close eye on me
2) I had a few placental issues last time – the abruption and possibly IUGR (which would explain her low birth weight). If he stays in, could these things happen again?
3) I’d like to meet him
4) I made plans for 12/6 that can’t be changed. I know that’s insane/probably selfish but it didn’t even occur to me I’d still be pregnant!

Yeah so for these reasons I did go ahead and schedule the induction for next Friday, 11/27. Of course my sincere hope is that I go into labor naturally before then, but if I don’t, that will be the day. Part of me feels very guilty for not going crunchy/natural and waiting until the absolute end of the end week 42, but another part of me is relieved to have an end date.

By this day next week, I’ll be holding my son in my arms.

Incredible.

Nov 14

fat, broke, and toothless… but the curtains are fabulous

Nov 14

Nesting… it’s no joke.

As of today I am 39 weeks pregnant. Seven days until baby boy is due to make his grand appearance. It goes without saying that I’ve been vacuuming daily, keeping the sink empty at all times, and wandering around the house aimlessly, Swiffer duster in hand, ready to attack any and all dust particles that dare to cross my path. Yesterday, however, I took it one step further.

I’ve had major beef with the curtain industry for years. I think curtains are a huge racket and have been Pinterest-ing my little butt off, trying to come up with cost-effective curtain hacks whenever I can.

When it comes down to it, curtains are simply rectangles of fabric – nothing more, nothing less. Sometimes they have fancy details like grommets but most of the time they don’t. So why do curtain panels cost so damn much?

Venture into your average Bed, Bath, & Beyond and you’re likely to find a wealth of options when it comes to curtains. But if you’re looking for floor to ceiling panels, you can expect to pay around $40 – per panel! And that’s an average. I’ve seen panels for upwards of $80 each. And no, they’re not woven with gold thread and mermaid hair. I just don’t get it.

Even Target – dear, beloved Target – has very few options under $20/panel. The $14.99 options are really chintzy and ugly. So yeah. I’ve been on this curtain mission, because unfortunately, in my absolutely-illogical-39 weeks pregnant-and-nesting-frenzy, I decided I needed to replace all the curtains in my home. Immediately.

Since Molly and baby boy are sharing a room, I already knew I’d need to replace those curtains since they are pink and lacy. But back when I was slightly more sane a few weeks ago, I figured I had some time, because it’s not like he’s going to get home from the hospital and turn up his little newborn nose at pink lace. We still haven’t even set up the crib, for heaven’s sake. The actual room share is still months away. Still, I had been halfheartedly looking for new curtain options because like I said, I refuse to be made a fool of by the big, bad, curtain industry. So every time I shopped I checked clearance racks and my personal favorite curtain hack treasure trove – shower curtains.

Molly’s frilly pink curtains

Yes, seriously, shower curtains! Those pink lace curtains I hung up for Molly weren’t actually curtains… they were shower curtains purchased from BBB after an exhaustive search. At $30/each they were still more than I wanted to spend, but yes I did justify splurging just a little at the time. And since they are so wide, I only needed two rather than four.

To hang shower curtains as window curtains, you’ll just need a few packs of cafe clips (found anywhere they sell curtains). They come in packs of 7, which is slightly annoying because I feel like four on each side could work well but three on one side and four on the other just doesn’t cut it. For two windows, I ended up using 3 packs (21 total clips, five per window with one extra), and it turned out just how I wanted.

Hunting the aisles of Target on Thursday afternoon I found them – two green shower curtains, on clearance for $7.48 each. All I did was cut them in half and voila – four curtain panels for $3.74 each. You just can’t beat that! I actually spent more on the cafe clips to hang them than I did on the curtains themselves.

I love the shower curtain trick because they usually have awesome patterns, and like I said, they are very wide and one curtain will easily transform into two panels. If you want to get fancy, you can go to a craft store and purchase iron-on hem tape to hide the cut edge, OR, if you’re in a rush like I was, you can just tuck the cut edge behind and vow to do a proper hemming later. Whatevs.

Here’s how they turned out:

Next up… master bedroom. We had green curtains which I decided just didn’t match the gray walls. I actually found *real* and affordable curtains at Christmas Tree Shops months ago and just hadn’t gotten around to hanging them yet. So these curtains were essentially “free” (the same way anything you buy and put away and find again later is free). Christmas Tree Shops is hit or miss… they always have good prices, but the quality is not always great. All of the sheers you see in the photos are from there – $6.99 each. Yes, great. The gray panels I used in the bedroom were $7.99 each and very nice and heavy, light blocking even. Upon closer inspection of the packaging I realized why… they were originally $40/panel at Kohls, so apparently CTS must have bought them to resell. Score!

I will admit that these were the easiest to hang and the ones that look the best because they didn’t need to be altered or anything. But finding deals is basically a full-time job, and I just ain’t got time for that.

Bedroom:

One more room to reinvent… the living room. The curtains I had hanging there were raw silk Pottery Barn panels that I’m sure cost someone, somewhere a fortune and that I found at a gigantic flea market a few years ago. When I bought them, we had a tan couch. Now our couches are green and our curtains are a slightly different shade of green and HOW CAN I BE EXPECTED TO LIVE IN THAT KIND OF WORLD WITH A BABY COMING?! (Nesting. Nesting is a real, bizarre thing).

Ok, so here I improvised and I’m not sure I’m in love with the results, but it is better than the green clashing situation I had going prior. I bought a tablecloth from Target over the summer and absolutely love the pattern, but it was way too big for our table and it was annoying that the sides basically dragged on the floor. I put it away with the intention of one day maybe turning it into curtains because, as I said, anytime I have large yardage of any kind of fabric that’s where my mind goes. I pulled my little trick of cutting it in half and hanging the two panels with cafe hooks, but the problem with the tablecloth is that it’s not as wide as the shower curtains, so the panels are a little flimsy (especially for such a large window). Oh, well. Again, I only spent $14.99 on one tablecloth, and since I bought it over the summer, this living room curtain makeover was “free.” (minus the growing cost of cafe clips).

Here it is:

The kitchen curtains got to stay. The dining room curtains also got to stay simply because the dining room is impassable these days and is basically being used as a storage area (unassembled crib included). The bathroom has NO CURTAINS, which yes, causes me daily grief. But you’d be surprised how much energy it took to change just the three rooms I’ve mentioned. I had PTO to use, which is why I had off yesterday, and of course made a giant list of things to do and accomplished fewer than half of them. “Get down on hands and knees and scrub kitchen floor” along with “repaint all the trim” got bumped. Possibly to January.

What else? This is super gross/embarrassing, but hey, I’ll share anyway. Wednesday afternoon I was sitting there at work, minding my own business and snacking on a Starburst (as one does) when all of the sudden I heard a CRACK! and out popped my tooth. My tooth!

Ok, so it was a crown but still… EW! I genuinely had no idea what to do in that moment. I quickly went outside and called my dentist who agreed to take a look that afternoon to see if he could save it. But here’s the messed up part – I went there, broken crown cradled in a napkin, and he strode into the room and declared it couldn’t be fixed even before looking in my mouth or taking an x-ray. It’s like, wtf buddy, why did you get my hopes up and make me rush over if you knew it couldn’t be repaired from the get-go?

He recommended me to an oral surgeon who was kind enough to see me the next day (Thursday). I had already planned on embarking on ‘mission: new curtains’ since I had scheduled a half day at work, but instead chose to go for the consult to see if Mr. Oral Surgeon could do the extraction/repair/new implant before baby boy made his debut. Coordinating that kind of thing with a newborn and a toddler just sounded less than appealing, you know? So instead of going shopping after work like I wanted, I hightailed it over to the surgeon and was once again disappointed. All I did was sit my ass in the chair and he came in all, “Well, we would like to wait to do the extraction until after you give birth because then we can use stronger drugs.” Ok, so… what the hell?? Again, he knew I was 9 months pregnant when I scheduled the consult, so if he was just going to tell me I had to wait, why make me come in for the appointment? I mean, obviously the answer is $$$$. Clearly he doesn’t realize/care that I’d rather be spending my hard-earned cash on new curtains than on pointless dentist visits.

So here I sit… fat, broke, and toothless. I mean, basically. It’s the molar all the way in the back, so it’s not like anyone can see it. I was also informed that implants are upwards of $5,000, so I’ll have to figure out if that’s worth it after all. Probably not.

Adult problems are fun, aren’t they?

Now it’s Saturday and I don’t have much on the agenda besides cleaning (more) and awaiting the arrival of this child. I got checked on Friday and I’m still 1cm dilated, 50% effaced. Thursday night I was having horrific contractions that I was convinced were the real deal, but then of course they weren’t.

Maybe I’ll make it to the 24th? One can only hope… I do need that money. I have new curtains and new teeth to buy.

Here’s Molly, getting in some practice:

the best big sister EVER

Nov 02

oh, hello, november…

Nov 02

YOU GUYS.

I’m having a baby this month.

This month!

My poor, poor second child. My nesting instincts are… intact, but like 1,000 times less agressive than they were with Molly. In my defense, mostly everything is set up already. The changing table, the bassinett, the random stuff. I know what to expect when I bring him home. I’m ready(ish).

I have been vacuuming a lot. But I wouldn’t say that’s abnormal for me.

We put his dresser in place but I’ve yet to put away his clothes. I have two batches of hand-me-downs – one from my sister, and one from Eric’s sister. Since I know Eric’s sister wants hers back, I need to sit down with a fabric marker and label all of the clothes from my sister so I can sort them out later (cause ain’t no way I’ll remember which outfits came from which person). A daunting task, to be sure. Hence my procrastination.

The other thing I need to do is pack my bag for the hospital. This task I remember putting off with Molly, mostly because it felt like once I did it, she would come (this idea turned out to be inaccurate). It’s just sort of annoying because many of the items, like my toothbrush, pillow, and favorite yoga pants, can’t be packed right now anyway because I’ll need them for the next couple weeks. But still, I guess I can throw in some nursing tanks and nipple cream. Gah, I seriously haven’t thought about needing those things in so long! I think I’m partially in denial. But still, I feel a lot better prepared this time around. At least I’m not TOTALLY clueless.

My last check at the OB/GYN was on Friday – and it was an actual “check,” if you know what I mean. Right now I’m 1 cm dilated, 50% effaced, and to quote my doctor, “Oh, yes that’s the head right there!” I know you can be 1 cm or even 2 cm forever, but just hearing that, and knowing that his head is *right there* makes me more convinced than ever that he’s coming sooner rather than later. As much as I’d love for him to stay put… ehhhhh, I don’t think so.

My doctor also discussed induction if he chooses not to make an appearance (which gave me a little hope for being late, at least), and she said that 11/27 works well for her since she’ll be at the hospital all day anyway and she likes to keep a close eye on her VBACs. This is the doctor who I really like and hope to have around for my delivery, so I agreed to that date. Why not? Like I said, I don’t think I’m going to make it until then anyway. But it’s nice to dream. It’s not like I have any big shopping plans for Black Friday. Ha!

Last Friday afternoon Molly came to work for trick-or-treating, and I don’t think it’s an exaggeration to say that she legit won Halloween. I can’t tell you how many people said to me that she had the best costume of the day.

#twinning

I’ll admit, I wasn’t too keen on the idea of my beautiful little girl dressed up as an ewok… because they’re a little frightening and not really cute, plus as I’ve said, the whole Star Wars thing is all Eric and not me. Eric ordered the costume pieces after he saw the tutorial last year and had it tucked away for that long, so obviously I had to allow it, plus I didn’t have any other great ideas. I did not know how freaking popular Star Wars everything was going to be this year – I’m sure that helped.

One of the creative departments at work put together a whole Star Wars themed section that was so over the top – I’m talking flashing strobe lights, full size cut outs, movie projections, music, the works. Of course we brought Molly there first and within seconds she started dancing with the music! We all just about died from the cuteness overload. Especially since her “dancing” is more like twerking with a lot of booty shaking, which will probably be concerning in like 15 years but for now is pretty much the best thing ever. My only complaint with the costume is that about half the people thought she was a little boy. But I mean, whatever, she would make a very cute little boy.

Saturday was trick-or-treat in our town and it was pretty fun. This is a great age when she doesn’t really get what’s going on and Eric and I get to eat all her candy. Seriously, the amount of candy in my house is obscene. But I did ask at the OB/GYN how much I gained with this pregnancy and it’s only 32 lbs so… yay me! That’s more than I wanted to but still only HALF of how much I gained with Molly. I’m calling it a win. Because I want more candy.

November. It’s November!

I’m starting to get really excited.

And that’s not just the candy talking.

Oct 22

today + one month = DD

Oct 22

Here we are, exactly one month until the big DD. Not that I want it to happen that day because of previously stated maternity leave issues, but technically, that’s the day marked on my calendar. Eeek!

I’ll be honest – and you can quote me on this – I think I’m going to go early. Space is LIMITED in the ol’ uterus. It’s really weird… I wake up and feel pretty decent/comfortable, but as the day goes on my stomach just gets tighter and tighter until it’s 7pm and I’m writhing around on the couch pitifully, insisting that someone needs to, “GET IT OUT, GET IT OUT OF ME RIGHT NOW.” Sometimes it literally feels like he’s just going to pop right out of there. It’s hella uncomfortable – like wearing an about-to-burst balloon that someone insists on continuing to inflate. Like, can’t you see there’s no more room in there? How am I going to survive for 4 more weeks?

Another reason I think he may come early is because he’s been head down for the past two months. So I think he’s ready (and is probably very cramped). I’m a little nervous that I won’t know I’m actually in labor because contractions have been described as a “tightening” and that’s something I experience on a daily basis. My whole abdomen is just… tight. It would be nice to know what it felt like but I don’t know. Remember with Molly I was induced, and the pain I felt was excruciating from the get-go. Now in hindsight I’m wondering if that’s because the abruption was happening. Would that make it hurt more? I have no idea. I just hope I realize I’m in labor and I don’t wind up on the news as some crazy person who gave birth at her desk at work because she was too stupid to realize what was happening. Especially for a second child. Plus… embarrassing, right?

Anywho…

Last night I posted the following status on Facebook:

The funny part about it was that about 2 minutes after I posted, the person who posted the article I’m referring to commented her apologies. Funny/awkward that she totally knew I was talking about her!

I’m starting to hate Facebook these days and that’s one huge reason why. I don’t know if your friends are the same way, but for some reason, a huge number of people on my feed (and the girl in question from last night is not even close to the worst offender, if you’re reading this S, I’m sorry to keep calling you out!) feel compelled to share links to these horrifying news stories, but I cannot for the life of me figure out why. Like… what is the point? There’s nothing I can do; the damage is done. All you’ve done is confirm that evil people exist and now I have to be haunted with the knowledge that another terrible thing happened to another innocent person. So essentially, you’ve ruined my day and made me feel helpless and sad, and there’s nothing I can do about it. Thanks.

And before you say, “So just don’t click on the article,” know that most of the time I don’t click, but the title and photo tell me more than enough. In this case I did click in because apparently I love to torture myself. Hence the sobbing. And no I’m not telling you what it was about because I’m not mean like that. Go to sleep tonight happy knowing that you don’t know. It’s better that way.

In the realm of social media, Twitter confuses me/stresses me out because I can never “catch up” and it just makes me feel like I’m constantly missing out on something. It’s easier to just never log in. I’m way too old for Snapchat. LinkedIn is boring and possibly pointless (unless you’re job hunting). Is Google+ still even a thing? The only social media space I really love anymore is Instagram, so if you want to find me, that’s where I’ll be. Ok, rant over.

I was toying around with doing yet another post about friendship or lack thereof but at this point I’ve written about it so many times that you all probably think I’m a huge loser or something. So rather than make a big deal about it, I’ll just add in my thoughts here at the end of this long-winded post that most of you have possibly stopped reading by now anyway. Sound good? Ok, good.

Friendship. I did finally make friends at work (remember how worried I was about not being accepted at first?) and that’s been fantastic. Monday through Friday, 8am to 5pm, I have a great group of girls to chat with, eat lunch with, and text randomness to. A few are actually cool enough that we could conceivably hang out after hours, but I live about 40 minutes away from where I work and all my new pals live near work, not near home. Soooo as much as I like the one girl, and as nice as it is that she has a fire in her backyard every Thursday and invited me to come, ain’t no way I’m going to drive the 40 minutes home, bundle up the baby and the husband, and then drive 40 minutes back to stand around in the cold.

In general, as I’ve mentioned repeatedly now, I really miss having close female friendships in my life. This is going to sound silly, but sometimes Molly is playing so nicely or just being so cute that I want to share her with someone. My God, does that make me sound crazy? But really. I’m proud of how good she is and how sociable and sweet. I know there must be other women out there with children around the same age and I can’t help but envision us hanging out together, watching our little ones play. But I don’t know how to find these people!

My sister got so pissed at me last time I wrote a post like this because she thought I was implying that she wasn’t my friend and that I didn’t want to hang out with her. Duh, anyone with a brain can figure out that my sister is my best friend. But sometimes I feel like a burden to her – like she has to be the default person I always call to do stuff with and maybe she doesn’t always want to hang out. Plus, she watches Molly all week long and while I know she loves Molly like one of her own, maybe she needs a small Molly-break on weekends.

In my little town, there’s an active mom’s club for stay at home moms that I can’t join because I’m not a stay at home mom (oh, the discrimination!). There’s that website I joined called Mom Meet Mom (I think they changed their name now?) that never amounted to anything. Then there’s MeetUp.com, which conveniently has nothing promising on it besides the aforementioned SAHM club. So… yeah.

My prediction is that once Molly is in school or starts doing activities I will naturally begin to meet and make friends with other moms with kids the same age. My problem, as usual, is just impatience. So at this point I guess I need to calm down and just classify this weird interim as “the friendless years” (which was the working title of my pathetic post that never got written). Or maybe I’m just no fun and I’ll be stuck writing rambling posts and having nothing but internet friends for the rest of my life. Hey! Stranger things have happened.

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