Blathering

Everything seems to move faster during the holidays, yet time seems to stand still for me some days. So much has fallen by the wayside, that I just need to relax and let it go. It bothers me that each year I manage to get less and less done, despite having begun Christmas planning (and shopping) in late July. I knew it would be an adjustment with a second baby. I knew I'd have a learning curve, but I figured by November I'd be back up and running with two kids in tow. As usual, I've either overestimated my ability to organize, or underestimated the amount of effort two children require. I'm afraid to admit it, but I think it's both.

Life Happens While You're Making Plans

That's how the saying goes, and that's the truth. I'm so grateful that Evie is home with us, and she's thriving. I was indignantly surprised that none of my plans (especially the birth plan) unfolded as I had envisioned. Being a realist, I still marvel at my naivete in planning how the birth would go, and when I'd resume life once baby #2 arrived. Where did this fantasy of expectations come from?

I have since regained my senses from this lapse in judgement, and I'm determined to do better, now that I know better. This is life. I'm hopeful that Evelyn will be off the oxygen by the holidays and that Maisey can return to preschool without fear of illness, but more importantly that she'll return without any lasting scars the learning curve that being a mother of two may have placed on her little shoulders.

Despite how difficult things have been, and keeping in mind the difficulties that may lie ahead, I'm thankful for:

--All the family and friends who rallied to our side during this time. It was truly moving to know that so many people are there for us. It's humbling.

--To the skilled and caring staff at WVU Hospital's NICU, especially the many nurses who made me feel that my baby was in good hands, and that we would get through this.

--My mom and niece, who handled everything while I was recovering from the surgery and struggling through the nerve headache.

--Especially to my husband, who ran a nonstop marathon between two hospitals to manage me at maternity and Evie at the NICU, at home to our three year old, our families, our friends, his work, and everything else in between. He truly is my hero.

--And to Evie, for reminding us all what we mean to each other.

Change

Thirteen days and counting. I'm exhausted, excited, and nervous now. Like the first time I was pregnant, I suddenly realized that this baby was going to come out, whether I liked it or not. I was suddenly very afraid of the onset of labor, terrified of the unknown. How will I live through all that pain? Of course Maisey came via c-section, not naturally, and I felt like I escaped with relative ease. But now I'm a little worried about another c-section. IVs and epidurals, carving me up as if my belly were a huge jack-o-lantern. But at least I know what to expect, right?

Except things don't feel the same at all. I know every pregnancy is different. But this one is as different from the last as it could be. I'm a walking zombie, and I'm getting about 7-8 hours of sleep a night. Most of this baby's movements cause discomfort or pain, so it's hard to enjoy the arm or foot swimming across my stomach when it makes me nauseous, or jabs an organ, or stretches my already stretched uterus. And I've reached my tolerance of the ever-increasing indigestion. Now I understand why some women lose weight in the last couple of weeks--eating causes so much pain that I don't want to eat again until the baby's born. But 13 days is too long to go without eating anything. So I'll take one (every time I eat something) for the team.

My biggest worry is that I'll actually go into labor before the scheduled c-section. I'm tired and cranky, but at least I know when this will be over, and my niece and mom will be here, as planned, to help out. Most women--God bless them--wait and wait until labor begins, whenever that may be. No planning there. I should feel very lucky that I know what's in store for me. I'm doing my best to just follow the routine for the next two weeks, biding my time. But every pain, every contraction, gives me pause.

The one thing I'm really worried about is how we're going to manage the change. Maisey is the big unknown. How is she going to handle Mommy being in the hospital? Will she behave for Nanny and Jamie? How is she going to greet her new sister? Will she want to pet this baby the way she does all the other babies she sees? Will she be jealous when she sees Mommy nursing, or Daddy cuddling the new baby? How will we handle her reactions? I hope I have enough love and patience (and sleep) to manage all the new challenges that will surely be heading my way. I guess this is normal too, though I see my friends with two or more children and everything seems so comfortable, so easy. I don't see the doubt or worry in them that is so apparent with me.

I guess I keep coming back to the same thought: If there's one constant in parenting, it's change. Everything changes. My only preparation is to be open, and take each day as it comes.

Preschool and Preparedness

I guess Moms have to be prepared for anything, all the time. What was my little angel last week has suddenly morphed into a mischievious little stinker the next. You know it's not a good thing when you pick up your child from preschool and your child's teacher has to take you aside for a private conversation.

Turns out, Maisey actually hit a teacher at preschool on Friday. The last day of her first week of preschool, and she's sent to the principle's office. Where did that come from? Is this a preview of things to come? Of course I'm appalled. So many questions, so many worries. Is it all some deep seated agression that will emerge as a full-blown personality flaw later in life? Will she need therapy? Meds? Am I failing her as a mother and role model? Or was the first week of the new schedule--earlier to bed, earlier to rise, and all the excitement in between--just too much for her on day 5? I'm hoping it's that last one, because I've got enough guilt to last a lifetime already, and no idea how to be a different mom to prevent the first two.

The upside is a friend who told me yesterday that her daughter has done something very similar when approached by strangers (Thanks Crystal!). I'm hoping it's a phase that I can help talk Maisey through. If only I can stay calm and say the right thing when Maisey spits, hits, or screams like a dinosaur in greeting to said strangers. (And for the record, it's true, writers don't always know the right thing to say in every situation, and we sometimes use slang and incorrect grammar, just to fit in).

What motherhood has taught me so far is that I have to be prepared for everything. I wonder if there's a good parenting book on this. Not some vague tome of overall conduct and mutual respect, but the one with a specific index entry that says, Hitting, Spitting, and Dinosaur Screams, dealing with, see page 58.

Ah, if only kids came with a manual....

Bliss

This was a great day. Despite Clint going on a fishing trip for the weekend--I miss him already!--it was such a relaxing day for me that I just wish they could all go this smoothly, right through to the day I give birth.

I can't believe what a polite, happy little girl Maisey has been all day. What a joy! She was so sweet and happy this morning when she woke up. She didn't fight a nap, or bedtime. She actually asked to take a bath at 7:45. We had a lot of fun making ice cream with Play Doh, eating popcorn and watching Jungle Book, playing with Ariel & Flounder in the bath, reading stories at nap and bedtime. She was just so sweet, she said, "Thank you Mommy for reading that book." when I finished. Then she said, "I think I'll go to sleep now." I couldn't have been more charmed. I'm just hoping and praying this cooperation and sweetness continues so that our first day at preschool (and every day after that) goes well.

She was even pretty well behaved at the doctor's today. Of course Clint was there to distract her; she's a little overprotective of Mommy's belly these days, unless the nurse takes her blood pressure or puts the doppler on her belly.

But yeah! I only gained a pound and a half in the past two weeks. I just don't think my belly can stretch a millimeter more, and maybe I'm right. Everything looks good, and I've only got a month left! I guess that realization put me in a good mood, and a good night's rest doesn't hurt either.

It's finally sinking in that all the alien movement in my belly will be a beautiful baby girl in just four weeks! I'm not panicked about the long list of stuff that hasn't yet been done, or worried about the impending c-section, or everyone's opinion that I may go into labor early. I feel so at peace today that I just want this to linger for the next four weeks and forever.

Life is good.

Conquering the Potty

I think we've finally turned the corner on potty training. After fits and starts, progress that gave me such high hopes, and then the sudden and frustrating regression, I think my little girl has finally decided that it's time for big girl panties full time.

Hooray! We've even been going in public toilets, AND washing out hands afterwards! This is one less thing I have to worry about, hopefully, when the baby comes. The best part was going to visit her preschool today to drop off paperwork and she said to me, "Mommy, I have to go potty!" The last time we were there she had two accidents. What a turnaround. And relief. They preschool expects their students to be potty trained!

Now if I could only get her to pick up her toys every night....

Flying Solo

I have to pay homage to all the single moms who juggle work, kids, and all the responsibilities (not to mention trying to carve out a personal life) without the help and support of a spouse. I don't know how they do it. I've been flying solo for three days now, and I'm so ready for Clint to come home. And not just for his help--I miss him!

I can't fathom how a single mother does it. Maisey's been great recently. I think she's reaching milestones left and right. She's communicating feelings and thoughts so much more these days, which really helps me gauge her moods. She's much more cooperative, and some of the concepts I've been repeating for well over a year are finally sinking in (pick up your toys, put dishes in the sink, etc.) She's even able to and wants to do things for herself, which is such a help!

She misses Daddy something fierce though. Tonight she didn't want me to leave the room, because she was afraid I'd leave her. I had to comfort her that I was only going into the livingroom, that I'm still here for her. She doesn't like when Daddy leaves. What does a single mom tell her child?

Maybe it's difficult for me because I'm pregnant, and have a cold. At 7 1/2 months, I can barely walk a flight of steps without becoming winded, so the daily tasks of cleaning, laundry, cooking, and entertaining Maisey have become too much. Things begin to fall by the wayside, and I don't have the energy or free time even when Daddy comes home to catch up, or just let me rest. I can't imagine not being able to count on someone else for that kind of support.

Date Night Fix

For me, date night has become an addiction. The more I get, the more I want. I look forward to it as if it were my next fix of sanity. Why is that? It's taken three years to organize a sitter and coordinate ours schedules so my hubby and I could actually go out somewhere and reconnect. At first it was just like we were dating--meeting at pubs and restaurants for drinks and wings, except we always ended up discussing our daughter. But over time we started talking about other things, laughing, making plans again. Really being together. I have come to simply enjoy being just me, just being with him.

Last night was a complete date: dinner and a movie. It's been three or four years since we've seen a movie together in the theater. We used to go all the time, and now I now realize how much I took for granted. It felt like the good ole' days again, well, with the exception of my huge belly and all that goes with that. With baby #2 on the way, I just hope that I can keep up with our regular date night; it really makes me feel like my own person again. And I really need that.

On a side note, we saw Land of the Lost. We're both fans of Will Ferrell, and while not all of his movies were worthy of four stars (Talladega Nights was like a root canal!), this one kept us both laughing and entertained. And don't worry if you've never seen the original television series, you'll enjoy this movie.

Hormones

I wonder if I'm going to make it to 40 weeks. I'm at 27 now (or will be on Saturday), and I feel like my hips will discintigrate if I add one more ounce of weight or pressure to my expanding frame. I don't remember being this achy and hormonal last time. I guess I'm experiencing some of the drawbacks of pregnancy in "advanced maternal age."

I was so busy trying to organize toys and baby things today that I forgot dinner on the stove until I smelled it burning. Oops. I woke up from a nap this afternoon (I know, how hard is my life???) feeling as if I hadn't slept in weeks. How is it possible to be more tired after a nap?

I'm at the mercy of my evil hormones--estrogen, progesterone and relaxin, just to name a few. And they are rendering me a physical and emotional mess. Good thing I have a sense of humor, right and this is only a temporary condition.

Eleven more weeks, and then, like the hormones coursing through my body, the aches, pains and memory of these hard days will dissipate into pure joy. I can't wait to meet her.

Empathy

I just can't bear it when my little girl gets hurt. Not the little bumps that come with being three, which can be healed by Mommy's magic touch and smile. I mean the kind of boo boo that causes her serene little face to crumple into that heart-wrenching cry that takes her breath away. Only Mommy's arms and boo boo kitty can even begin to soothe this kind of hurt. And I feel her pain and more, because I couldn't prevent it.

That's the hardest part of being a mother. Watching your child suffer. I feel it deep in my stomach, a tingling twinge that just aches to take the pain on myself so she doesn't have to feel it. There's guilt too, but that comes later. In the moment, my brain searches for the soothing words that will help calm her and soothe me too. I whisper it's alright, Mommy's here. And then--in what seems like an eternity for both of us, but really it's only an instant--the pain begins to fade; she loosens her grasp around my neck, looks up at me with her teary blue eyes, and I smile. I'm sure she sees my sadness there; lurking beneath my healing facade lives a boundless empathy for her, for whatever part of her little body or soul that was injured and might still smart.

I put on a brave smile and think of some distraction, something that will turn her attention to happier thoughts. It always works, but I still hurt for her, even after she's climbed down from my arms and moved on, the whole thing behind her. I marvel as she's off, the pain forgotten, as carefree and daring as ever to explore the world. And I struggle through the memory, the guilt of what I could have done differently to better protect my little girl.

How easily children can let go of pain; and what a gift that is.

The Joys of Pregnancy

Oh, the joy of pregnancy. And the discomfort. This one is definitely harder on me than the last. I'm no spring chicken, I know, which is probably why it's been harder. So, as this is my last pregnancy, I want to remember every bit of it, warts and all. At five months and three weeks, I now catalog the daily struggle. And being the positive person I am, I also am pointing out the upside of it all.

1. I can no longer bend over at the waist for any reason, and yet I find myself constantly having to pick up everything--toys, things I drop--off the floor (see #3). Not only do I miss the object I was trying to reach, but instead I get a rush of blood to my head that makes me nearly faint.
The upside: It's a great excuse for a messy house.

2. I cannot get up gracefully from my sofa, which has the firmness of Jello; it's probably like watching a walrus struggle out of the sea, but it has to be done, especially if I have to pee.

The upside: Staying put and having someone else do what I was going to do--unless it's time to go pee.

3. Suddenly, I can no longer hold onto more than one thing at a time without dropping at least one of them. Don't expect me to handle fine china, or anything breakable for that matter. And don't expect me to pick it up, either (see #1).

Is there an upside to this?

4. I don't even think about managing more than one thought at a time now. Chaos ensues. Mostly in my head, but to me, that's enough to cause a verbal collision or a brain fart--my thoughts up and vanish in the wind.

The upside: Everyone forgives me for my thoughtlessness. Even when I'm mid-sentence.

5. I can't watch an even slightly sappy or sentimental movie, television show, or commercial without bursting into empathetic tears. The same thing seems to happen when I'm laughing. Don't ask me why. And I can't even mention things that annoy me. Let's just say that now I fully understand the need for a 3 day waiting period to buy a gun.

The upside: People are always asking how I'm feeling. Coincidence?

6. I can't stay awake one minute past 10:30 pm, or asleep one minute past 7 am.

The upside: 8 hours of sleep a night, minus the 3 am pee break.

The downside: All those forgotten thoughts come to me during that 3 am pee break.

7. I can't walk, sit, or stand comfortably for more than five minutes. I can't carry a basket of laundry or anything large anymore: it just doesn't mold well to my watermelon belly.

The upside: Everyone always asks if I need help.

8. I expect to forget at least one thing every day: an item at the store, a bill to be paid, and errand to run, a phone call, an appointment. Every day.

The upside: Everyone is so understanding if I arrive without the promised item or appropriate positive response to: "Did you do so and so today?" I appreciate your patience! I'm sure you'll all get even with me later....

9. Too much or too little activity causes Braxton Hicks contractions, leg cramps breathlessness or light headedness.

The upside: foot and leg rubs, back and neck massages, and a very good reason to put my feet up.

10. Everything I eat now causes indigestion.

The upside: eating and drinking almost always evokes a response from the little one inside. She kicks, burbles and squirms, which reminds me how worth it all this discomfort is!

Random thoughts

It's a manic day. Chief's tumor is benign. yeah! Maisey's been acting like pure heathen. boo! I think she's overtired, and I'm putting her down for naps and bed way too late. Clint's been on travel, which will continue through the weekend. boo! And my lack of patience doesn't help. Things must change. It's been raining, so we can't expend any energy outside. She's been jumping on the sofa, and climbing it like a jungle gym--she actually broke a spring on one end of the couch. Heathen! The naughty chair just doesn't command any respect. When did that happen? What can I do? If I weren't pregnant I'd have three options: red wine, yoga, or Sweetie. Forget the red wine: with all the complications of this pregnancy I'm not taking a chance. Forget yoga: I couldn't get out of (or into) even the simplest pose. Ah Sweetie. A good long trail ride used to do the trick, but again, no riding while pregnant. But I can go feed her carrots and groom her. She loves a good grooming. I just hope I'll be able to reach her legs.

Maisey's Garden

Maisey planted her own "garden" in a big metal tub on our patio about a month ago. She loved digging the dirt and dropping in seeds. And she was thrilled when the plants started to grow. She points out the window to Daddy every day, saying, "look Daddy, my plants are growing!"

She's so proud. I didn't think they were going to make it. I thought they were being eaten by insects, but I caught the dog red-handed (or red-toothed?) nibbling on her sunflower seedlings. It also doesn't help that, every time we go out on to the patio to play, part of her "inspection" of the flowers includes plucking either a leaf or an entire plant from the pot. A few of them came up roots and all, and I put them back. The rest are just casualties, I guess. Today she plucked the only two flowering nasturiums from the pot. However she tends to it, I'm just happy she's interested in gardening.

My Dog Has Cancer

Okay, it was a cancerous tumor on his tonsil that made him snore like someone's grandpa. We'd been to the vet before to talk about it, when it first started happening a month ago, but they didn't discover it until we took him in today to remove a benign growth on his butt (apparently this is common in older dogs) which turned out to be nothing. Thank goodness. They only found the tumor while trying to intubate him for the surgery. So now we wait for the biopsy results to determine if it is the kind of cancer that doesn't spread, or the kind that does (lymphoma). We don't want to lose Mr. Puppy Head.

On Turning Three

I can't believe Maisey is three years old today! How did that happen? My computer slideshow includes pictures of us in the hospital when she was born, with that round puffy red face, and that headful of beautiful dark hair. Now all that baby fat is gone and I see a blonde little girl (where did that come from?), with a mind and will of her own. How did that happen?

She is sweet and sassy, and totally her own person. And she reminds me of this everyday by saying things that totally surprise me. Like this morning when she asked me to put water in her new water table (birthday gift). I said,

"Can you wait until Mommy finishes putting together the birdbath?"

"No," she says, "I have very important things to do."

Indeed. A preview of things to come.