Monday, February 27, 2012

have i no shame?

It's official.  I have no shame.  Even sadder?  I didn't even take notice of the departure of my shame.  It just happened, one day, it was gone.  I was in a bookstore with my kids, quite enjoying our browsing because they were both behaving as if they were threatened with violence (THEY WERE NOT), when I noticed ..... one of my kids was wearing PAJAMA pants.  Not just pajama pants.  Inside out pajama pants.  In a BOOKSTORE!  A public freaking bookstore, for crying out loud!

I mean, really.

In my defense, if I can even try to claim one, we hadn't planned this particular bookstore outing.  It was 5:00pm, J was working a bit late, and I had a hankering for a burger.  I mean, the (poor, neglected, still nickname-less) baby had a hankering.  Protein and such!  It had to be a Culver's burger, obviously, because that's the local burger joint located the absolute farthest from my house of all the local burger joints.  Babies are so demanding!  Anyway, so we were in the play room playing (playing "use power tools on baby dolls" which is kind of an alarming game, really, and should probably be stopped before the fall), and I decided I must have the burger, so we threw on our Uggs and jumped into the car.  And on the way there, I was thinking how the kids had really been very good all day and how I hadn't stimulated the local economy in a day or two and also how my UsWeekly subscription ended (HORROR!) so I didn't have the most recent edition.  So, bookstore!  Except I forgot Anderson wasn't, like, actually dressed.  He had been, at one point early in the day, but when nap time comes?  That kid wants pee-jays, and ONLY PEE-JAYS.  The mystery is how I didn't notice the pajamas when I was putting him into or taking him out of the car, or when we were walking down the sidewalk, or in the first five or so minutes inside the store.  Nope.  It was only when he brought me a book for consideration (which was a no-go, because we don't DO paper book pages in this house because they end up pageless in two days or less) .... that I went .... zomg.  Inside out pajama pants.

Not the biggest deal, I know.  But I've always prided myself on keeping us somewhat pulled together.  If I don't have makeup on I wear my biggest shades, their winter noses are wiped clean before we get out of the car, and we don't wear pajamas in public.  Until, I guess, today.  Is this what happens when you have a third kid?  You become .... that mom?  With inside out pajama pants kids in PUBLIC PLACES?  Should I just get the beat up minivan and stop shaving my legs and grow my muffin top out and be done with it?  (No, maybe, no.)



Let the record show he also didn't have on any underpants.

SHAMELESS.

Friday, February 24, 2012

the first trimester: a recap

Tomorrow marks the end of the first trimester.  In my head, anyway.  I'm 12 weeks tomorrow, and while I think in actuality the 2nd tri starts somewhere at the end of week 12 .... I'm in the 2nd tri tomorrow, and that's that.  Because the 1st trimester?  Wasabitch.  Total.  While it lacked the all day, every day, life-consuming panic that had me visiting my OB's office for reassurance WEEKLY during my 1st tri with Bug .... it was maybe even worse to have an all day, every day, life-consuming hangover for five weeks.  With loud two toddlers who eat and do things that smell.  It was exactly like how I imagine I'd feel if I were to drink a bottle and a half of wine every single night.  Which is to say, REALLY NOT GOOD, so rest assured, I won't ever drink a bottle and a half of wine every night.  Here's where I thank God that I still have kids who gladly nap a minimum of two hours a day, because without my midafternoon siesta?  I probably would've died.  We broke our days up like this:

-Wake up, gag in my bed, take my Zofran.
-Anderson crawls into my bed, I gag, he plays iPad, I gag.
-Sister wakes, I crawl up the stairs to retrieve her.
-I muster up the courage to open the fridge to snatch out the milk and slam it back shut before any smells could escape and make me barf, feed kids something with limited scent (cereal).
-We lay on the couch and read books, or watch TV, or play "doctor" which really meant I laid there willing myself not to throw up while they jabbed at me with their doctor kit toys.
-Call J crying, beg him to come handle lunch, which he typically does because he's the best ever.
-Kids nap, I lay in bed and gag/cry/work/watch Downton Abbey (TELL ME YOU WATCH THAT.)
-Anderson wakes, crawls into my bed, I gag, he plays iPad, I gag.
-Sister wakes, I crawl up the stairs to retrieve her.
-Find unscented snack (or snack as close to unscented as possible), feed kids, lay on play room floor and pray for 5:00pm.
-J comes home, I cry, I go to bed and gag/cry/work/watch Downton Abbey.

It wasn't pretty, you guys.  Everything made me gag.  Just looking at some things made me gag.  (Computer screen, cats, sunshine, you know, super normal things like that.)  I sound like such a baby recalling this, but I promise you, I'm usually pretty tough.  I had morning sickness with the other two and survived it with all the aids the newly pregnant tend to use ... there were no aids, this time.  Except "The Zo", aka Zofran prescribed by my doctor, aka also didn't help much if at all.  And then there was the mommy guilt, because seriously, what kind of mom wants to spend her days gagging and crying when she could be enjoying her littles?  Not this one, I tell you.

And if that weren't all fun enough, there was the Big Bad Scare.  The one where my routine first trimester blood work showed a strange antibody, and my follow up blood work (according to my now-former OB's office) showed something called anti-little e.  You can google it, I'm not even going there again.  Some cases are mild, and other cases are ... well, awful.  As in, no baby to take home awful.  Or super preemie awful.  You can probably guess how well I took that news, right?  NOT WELL AT ALL.  It just so happened that I'd already set up a meet and greet appointment with another OB for the very same day the original OB gave me the Big Bad Scary news.  I'd had some qualms about having c-section #3 up in the woods.  The hospital here is nice and all, but there's no NICU in case things were to go wrong, and ... I don't know.  I just felt uneasy from the get-go, like my mama gut was telling me to consider other options.  I think if I were a first-time mom expecting a pregnancy free of gestational diabetes and a delivery free of surgical instruments, it would've been fine ... but I'm not, so it didn't feel fine.  So I'd made an appointment with another OB, a great one who visits a local clinic monthly but is based in (and delivers in) a larger town an hour from us.  No big city by any means, but it has a mall and a Target and Jimmy Johns.  Which, in comparison to my current town of residence, equals CITY.  But more importantly, the hospital there has a NICU, and the OB practice has all kinds of specialists on staff.  Specialists I hope to never meet.  But they're there, if need should ever be.  So anywho, I got the Big Bad Scare news from OB #1 and had my appointment with OB #2 that very afternoon.  OB #1, which a nice person and all, was not so much into giving me any false hope about the health of my pregnancy.  It was a 25 minute phone call with lots of worst case scenarios and me crying.  So I got off the phone and cried for two more hours, then got myself to my appointment with OB #2.  OB #2's reaction?  "This is probably not a big deal.  I'm not worried.  You're okay.  If you're going to have an antibody, this is the antibody you're best off having.  Let's repeat the blood work before we freak our freaks."  Which is really all I needed to hear, you know?  (Except he didn't really say "freak our freaks".  Duh.)  And the repeat blood work?  Showed NADA.  Meaning, I either don't have that stupid letter antibody thingy, or I do and it's so so so minor that it's not even worth losing a second of sleep over, but OB #2 is pretty sure it never existed.  My sigh of relief was humungous.  Then ... I cried.

So the moral of the story is that I switched OBs.  And also that I'll be eating Jimmy Johns after I have the baby, because YUM.

The other thing of note?  How I started "showing" about ten seconds after the pee stick dried.  By "showing", of course, I do mean "bloating" ... but wowsa.  And now?  At one day shy of 12 weeks?  You'd think I were at least 20 weeks along.  I don't think this bump is going anywhere, so I've packed away the button jeans and welcomed maternity jeans into my life.  That's when I deal with jeans at all, which let's be real, I'm a stay at home mom.  Leggings City.

There you have it, my first trimester in 235809 words.  Or more like, there I have it, because like anyone else is probably even reading this snorefest. I wanted to have the experience down in words, you know?  Just in case I ever get a wild idea that "hey, pregnancy is fun!  Let's do another one!"  Which will be impossible, actually, because we'll be taking steps to ensure this baby is the last baby if you know what I'm sayin.  And I think you do.  (Snippity snip!)

Oh, and for those that have asked, YES - I'm sure we won't find out.  It's bizarre how opposite my feelings are on this matter.  The other times, I couldn't find out soon enough.  We knew with a fair degree of certainty with Anderson at 12 weeks, and with Vivi at 16, and even THAT felt like for-freaking-ever.  I just have zero desire to find out early this time.  I have my suspicions (blue!) and J has his (pink!) and Anderson has his (brother, named BabyJesus!) .... but only the end of August will tell.

Yay, 2nd trimester!  Welcome to my life!

Saturday, February 18, 2012

escape

i know.  not in focus.  but hello, too funny to care.
ps: he does exist!
Yeah.  So that's about how we all felt about another weekend inside the house.  Can you say, obligatory mid-Feb cabin fever?  Can you also say, OMG SUMMER COME FAST PUHLEAZE?  Plus, I've got a rotten cold and am feeling all "woe is me" about that one, so I knew, if we were to stay home, we'd mire ourselves knee deep in catch-up cleaning and laundry folding and inevitably, bickering about something.  Likesuchas, how J gave me this stupid cold.  Or something.  It's been a long winter, yall, or at very least, a long month and a half.  So last night, faced with the rare luxury of two consecutive J-days, I got an idea.  I yelled my idea up the stairs, and receiving no objections in return, got busy on Kayak.com.  Ten minutes later, we'd booked a hotel room in Madison.  Nothing fancy, most certainly no seaside villa, but the joint has a pool and for all our kids know, a pool = mega awesome vacation.  (Too bad I momentarily forgot we had a dog.  Jackie to the rescue!  Thanks, Jackie!  And Robbie, too, obvi.)

So, we're in Madison.  We so love Madison.  The kids were total champs on the drive down, to the point that J and I had more than one "OMG are we insane having another kid and starting that whole insane baby deal all over again?!?" moment.  Ah, well.  Too late.  And I hear number three comes out ready to roll with the punches/spur of the moment weekend road trips, anyway.  (Fingers crossed.)  (No, I don't want to hear about your #3 who is crazypants, keep it to yourself.)  We got here and attempted to hit up State Street for lunch and browsing and people watching, but those plans were foiled by some sort of running thing (IN FEBRUARY?!) so instead we drove in traffic-cop guided circles around the Capital for a half hour and I almost peed my (brand new maternity) pants before saying "screw it!  The mall!  Let's just go to the FREAKING MALL!  Out of our way CRAZY MADISON RUNNER PEOPLE!"  We ate lunch at a real live restaurant, albeit not one so fancy that waiters visit your table, and only two of our two kids dumped their drinks in their laps!  (Uh...)  And it only took an hour for the maniacs to fall asleep for a nap in the same room back at the hotel!  Only an hour of insanity!  But seriously?  The sound of the two of them laughing hysterically together in the bedroom about who-knows-what?  Sweeter (and funnier) than nap time silence, for sure, and definitely made me feel like we made a good choice with this mid-winters' escape from the woods.  Next up, the pool.  And hopefully a hastier bed time than nap time, because after THAT J and I have a dinner date with our beloved Chin's (a la takeout, obvi, no need to call CPS) and then after we lick our plates straight clean we're probably going to bed at 8pm before the inevitable excited toddler 6am hotel wake up.  And by "to bed" I mean I'll be sleeping sitting up on a couch with a super stylish nasal strip so I maybe get more than three hours of sleep.  Unlike last night.  SNIFFLE SNUFFLE WOE IS ME.  (Again.)  

Tomorrow?  Are you ready for it?  

SUPER TARGET.

I know.  I die of excitement.  

Thanks for all the kind words and encouragement on the baby news!  You all are the best, and I do mean BEST.  And also thanks for the Team Green Backup.  It's going to be fun.  Please remind me of this at 19.5 weeks when my resolve weakens, mmkay?  Think of all the money we'll save!  For example?  DVF is coming to GapKids and I won't even be tempted to buy anything for baby no-name!  Which just maybe kind of sort of means I'll buy twice as much for Miss V ... but STILL!  Big money savings and such!

Thursday, February 16, 2012

vivi's big news

 The shirt doesn't lie, people.  Bug & Bee have a baby sibling on the way!  Number Three will arrive in the very last days of August, and I'm just shy of 11 weeks (which is like "omg already?!?" and also like "omg that's IT?!?")  It's a few weeks earlier than we usually choose to tell, but this has been the worst kept secret of all time.  Mainly because I look about five months along already and have been a hermit for six weeks or so, and needed to explain my shape and antisocial-ness somehow.  Two ultrasounds and home doppler confirmation tells us all is well now, so the beans, they are officially spilled.  MEEP!  A BAAAAABY!

Oh, what's that?  You already figured?  Was it the eyebrow raising lack of wine mentions of late?  Or the uninspired "party" I threw Vivi that consisted of ten balloons, five people, and not a single goody bag or musical soundtrack, a la years past, because I couldn't muster up the energy for a fancier fete?  Or how my blog dwindled to near nothingness during the past four weeks when more often than not, I was crying in my bed because, you know, monthlong "hangovers" that even Zofran won't touch are just SUCH a blast?  Especially with two kids who don't care that mommy feels like death, they want to play and go and do.  It's not been pretty, yall.  You haven't lived until you've dry heaved into a froggy training potty (because the big potty is clogged) while one kid screams "MY POTTY!  NO PUKIN' IN MAH POTTY!" and the other one fake heaves beside you laughing her head off.  My kids have watched so much Dora this past month that they're rolling their Rs.  The house has gone to the dogs.  (AND the cats.)  I don't even know where my vacuum is.  This was my real life laundry room at the end of one long, particularly difficult week.  (And yeah, that's a Christmas wreath still hanging on the door there.  Too sick to care!)
Alas, week 10 hit, and as was the case in my last two pregnancies ... things started looking up.  ((KNOCK ON EVERY DUSTY SINGLE PIECE OF WOOD IN MY HOUSE.))  I've had three decent days now where I've eaten like a normal human being, and am once again able to open the fridge without plugging my nose.  I have a bit of energy here and there, plodded along on the treadmill once this week, and we made it through the grocery store without a single heave!  Sayonara, first trimester.  See you never again, you beast!

And oh, PS, can you believe I'm adamant about NOT finding out the sex of our final addition?  I am serious!  We've got one of each (and the tubs of pink and blue clothes in storage to clothe any kind of babe), and honestly, when my friends have chosen not to find out the sex of their babies I've been about 100x more excited to hear their big news on delivery day.  I want that suspenseful moment for myself on this, our final round of baby-having, so I'm torturing my family and joining the Team Green bandwagon.  (Sorry, family.)  J's on board, and by on board I mean rolling his eyes and saying "I love you, so if that's what you want....."  Good man.  Good man who WILL be ordered to turn toward the wall during our 20 week scan, because I wouldn't put it past him to be a peeking peeker who PEEKS.

And yes, this WILL be the final addition to our little family.  Shop.  Is.  CLOSED.  3u4, even if just by a handful of days, is my baby having limit.  And if we are to be so blessed to have three healthy little loves to hold and kiss and grow big?  I wouldn't even have dared to dream it could be true a few years back.
"hey, wait, WHAT does this say?!?  I'M NOT SHARING MY ROOM, MOM!"

Sunday, February 12, 2012

happy birthday, vivian!


Oh, my sweet girl.  You're two!  This brings tears to my eyes, because it's incomprehensible that your babyhood went by that fast.  And turning two, it seems, marks the official end of any last wisps of lingering babyhood.  You talk, you have fashion preferences (well, EVERYTHING preferences), you want to do it all yourself.  I admire your spunk, little girl.
I'm so taken with you, Miss V, more and more all the time.  I can't imagine life without my girl, my little sidekick.  We went to the out and about yesterday, just you and I.  You sat in your car seat as we drove all around town gathering cake and food and party goods, singing to yourself and smiling at me every time I glanced back.  You knew it was your special day(s).  At the store we chose pink forks and spoons, pink cups dotted with red hearts, and alllll pink balloons.  I tried to sneak a few purples into the mix, but no.  Pink, "jus pink".

Would you believe that early in my pregnancy with you, sweet Bumblebee, I'd tell anyone who asked that I wanted a boy?  Now, don't find these written words when you're 13 and take tearful offense as 13 year old girls tend to dramatically do ... it's just that, in those days, my head was filled only with thoughts of blue and trucks and sand and all things boy.  Your brother, just eight months when the news of your existence came about, was all I knew how to mother.  And, I thought, he'd be happiest with a brother to wrestle around the yard with.  A duo of dudes.  So, I told myself, I wanted a boy.  I was convinced, but your daddy knew better .... and all I know is, from the moment your girlhood was pointed out on the ultrasound screen, you stole my heart.  You with your spinning dances, your tutu adoration, your shy smiles when you're caught singing in the back seat.  And every day, little girl, I'm more in love with your ways, more entertained by your company.  Your newfound sense of humor, your enthusiasm for all things Dora related, your little tongue clicks you do when you know you're walking a fine line between cute and naughty.  I love the way you instinctively shush and snuggle your baby dolls, with how you opened your first tea set last night and were stirring and pouring like a pro right out of the box.  And I can't wait for all that is to come, Vivi.  I know there will be ups and downs, but I know this, too - you're loved to the moon and back, every little bit of you.

Happy second birthday, Vivian Jenae.

Saturday, February 11, 2012

two

She's two in the morning, my girl.  I kissed her goodnight, zipped up her castle, and stood in her doorway fighting back tears ... because when I see her next, being one is history.  Happy (almost) birthday, V.  Sniff, sniff.

(Feel free to slow it down this whole growing up thing a bit now, okay?  I'm in no hurry to have you grown and gone.  No hurry at all.)



Vivi's two year pictures were taken by my lovely and talented fellow mamarazzi friend Katie.  She really captured my girl, and I'm so grateful.  Thank you, my friend!  You've got a gift.

And, for the record, I bypassed the $30 etsy options and MADE that shirt.  All by myself!  I mean, I bought the shirt itself, but it was plain and white and I made it SPECIAL.  Took me an entire RHOBH reunion show and half of a Toddlers & Tiaras to get it done, too. 

Thursday, February 9, 2012

yes, yes, and more yes!

It's been a good Thursday.  Thursday is usually semi-good, what with its proximity to Friday and Grey's and all, but this one has been a step above the rest.  First off, it was babysitter morning.  Also affectionately known as "the morning where I work in peace and quiet while someone else exhausts my children" morning.  And occasionally "mama goes shopping without a stroller" morning.  Yeah, I bit the bullet and had our occasional weekend night girl come one morning a week.  It's win-win.  I get a teensy late week break, babysitter gets some cash.  Good for the economy AND my sanity!

Then, I got some other good news that's kind of personal to put out on the blog, and nobody would really care anyway, but let's just say that something I was worrying about late at night (and in the morning and usually at lunch and often at dinner) is, in fact, nothing to worry about.  At any time of day.  So, phew to that.

Then, we were visited by both UPS and FedEx.  In the woods, where we see approximately 3 cars per day go by our house (J leaving for work, J coming home from work, somebody who took a wrong turn off the highway), two "big twucks" coming down our road is a biggie.  And they didn't disappoint.  One brought the pink Bearpaw boots (think Ugg, but cheap on Zulily) I ordered for Vivian's birthday.  Oh, fine, I just ordered them one random January Monday on Zulily, but since they took two hundred days to arrive, let's use the 'happy birthday to Vivi' excuse for my Zulilying!  And the other truck, while not as glam, brought my long-awaited (eh, long-procrastinated) curtain purchase.  Our main room, I think you've seen it?  If not, picture a pile of windows.  Pretty and scenic, no doubt, but on a sunny day I'd taken to wearing sunglasses while eating breakfast.  Glam, right?  We've lived in this house for a year and a half already, people.  I don't know what took so long to cover the windows, other than I couldn't for the life of me figure out how to most properly and attractively cover those windows, so I looked at 935 different options, but then finally last Sunday I went "OMGZ I can't handle this ONE MORE DAY" and bought 200ish inches of curtains.  And then the rods, which we're still awaiting.  But step one of Operation Don't Go Blind During Breakfast is complete.

And then?  Also?  Later, when the mail lady made her way to us (car 4, I lied)?  This little beauty arrived.  My Castegram!  I think it's adorable.  I also think maybe I'm venturing dangerously close to the stick figure family minivan window sticker territory (hiiiii, ABS and KLP!) .... but it's on an iPhone and iPhones are hip and cool and even my hip and cool babysitter said it was neat.  Or maybe she just said that because I had her cash in my hand and you don't tell people who are about to pay you that you don't like their new iPhone cover.  Whatever.


Last but not least, my dear friend Katie has been sending me the pictures she took of Vivian.  She came over yesterday and spent some time playing with V in her room and taking two year photos (BECAUSE SHE IS ALMOST TWO, LIKE WHAT?), and she did not disappoint with the results.  I'll share some on Miss V's birthday, but trust me, they're cute.  And, I (and my mom) dare say, they prove she's a clone of her mama at two.  Wispy thin mullet in training and all.  Sweet girl.

OH!  And Binky is coming!  While we're sad that the grandmas and the papaw weren't able to trek to the woods to celebrate V's big 0-2, we're oh-so-happy to have my dad and brother in town with us.  It'll be a low key cake and pizza with family kind of celebration.  Lower key than I'd usually go, but I'm sure our girl will have her fair share of big bashes through the years.  And what do you do in February, anyway?  Not rent a pony, that's for sure.  Poor V and her frigid date of birth.

Sunday, February 5, 2012

piggies

On the left, what we took out to dinner.  Sweet little piggies, baby piggies though they may be, still, PIGGIES!  Sidenote: I think they're sweet.  J?  J said "oh, seriously?  You're REALLY going to take her out like that?"  Yeah, J, no big deal, I've just been waiting to do piggies since I was 16 weeks pregnant and saw the lady parts on the ultrasound.  Anyway.  On the right, what we were looking at ten minutes into dinner.  After she got done scaling the wall behind our booth like a deranged spider monkey and dumping a generous helping of salsa into our laps.

Oh, Vivi.  You're a special little something.

Friday, February 3, 2012

some things are awesome, some things are not

Oh, it was a long week.  So long I can't believe it's only Friday and not, like, next Wednesday already.  So.  Long.  And many things about this week weren't awesome.  Some things, in fact, were scary.  Some were stressful.  I probably cried a time or twelve.  I won't bore you with details, we've all had those weeks and those scares and those stresses.  And, I do believe, all is well on this Friday evening.  Except that BachBen really DID strip naked and swim with old Crazy Lips Courtney, that really happened and can not unhappen.  Skanks, the lot of 'em!  But instead of delving into the not-so-awesome, let me share with you The Awesomes.

Things That Are Awesome:

1) having children who can not yet tell time.  Actually, I'm NEVER going to teach them to tell time, and I'm going to keep them home from school on the day where they teach time telling.  Because tonight?  When J was working late and 6:45pm hit and I was just totally done-zo with the bickering and the shrieking?  It was seriously awesome to be able to look at the clock iPhone (who has clocks anymore?), fake gasp, and say "WHOA!  You guys!  It's super duper late!  Waaaaaay past bedtime!  Hurry and let's go read stories and get to bed before daddy finds out you were up SO LATE!"  It's dark outside, so who are they to question my time telling skills?  To bed they went.  Mwahahahaha.

2) the crock pot roast beef we had for dinner tonight.  You guys.  SO GOOD.  It was super simple, too.  3 pound roast, some veggies (we just do carrots and potatoes in this house), water, and one packet of each of the following: brown gravy mix, ranch dressing mix, italian dressing mix.  EXCEPT, do not use all of that, or you'll die of sodium OD (if, indeed, you can die of that?)  I mixed the packets all together, rubbed 1/3 all over my hunk of raw meat (gag, gag, gag), then sprinkled another 1/3 over the roast and veggies once I had them assembled in my pot.  I let it cook on low for about 9 hours and I tell you what, it was scrumptious.  My kids even ate their carrots, which is miraculous.  It was so good I might be eating a second helping right this very second.

3) catching this grin on Bug's face at tubby time tonight.  I mean, come on, cutest face ever.


4) my friends.  They're very great.  And my family, too, but duh.

5) this thing.  Did you see it already?  Did you die laughing like I did?  I've said "where are your SHOES?!" probably eleven hundred times so far this year.  One time, we got to the grocery store, and Anderson straight up had NO SHOES. It's winter in the tundra, yall.  Barefoot wasn't a classy look, but hello, we were already THERE.