Another Posr About Poop, What an Exciting Life I Lead

I think I'm oversensitive to Dot's bowel movements. But it's not my fault. We went through 18 very emotionally (and physically for Googie) exhausting months of severe chronic constipation before I finally diagnosed a milk allergy. Now with Dot . . . well it's just hard to know.

Today for the first time, Dot had semi-hard stools. They weren't nearly as big as I remember Googie's being, or hard, but I'm not sure I remember what Googie's were like right at the beginning. Dot's were definitely thicker than peanut butter, and they were "concentrated." That over-powering disgusting smell completely took me back two years, and I felt like I was watching Googie suffer all over again. My stomach was in knots immediately.

So now what? I don't want to call the doctor because I know exactly what the nurse will say. "Put her on a high fiber diet, no rice cereal, bananas, or apples. Give her lots of prunes, pear juice, and maybe add a little bran to her cereal. If your really anxious about it you can dissolve a little white sugar in some water and give her that." Then when I call back a week later and say it's not working they'll tell me I haven't been sticking to it strictly enough.

The thing that I don't understand is I thought breastfed babies weren't supposed to get constipated. Yes I started her on real food, but she is only eating one meal a day. She's been doing that for the last 2 months. Why the change all the sudden, why now? We haven't added any new foods lately. It's been the same three as always. This is the exact same age that Googie started having her problems. I assumed it was because we started her on formula. Dot hasn't had any formula. None. And I don't think she could be getting enough dairy through my breast milk to all the sudden start having problems. It just doesn't make sense. Why now? My diet hasn't changed, and neither has hers.

Maybe Googie doesn't really have a problem with milk. Maybe it's something else. Maybe at 27 weeks old my babies magically become hypersensitive to dairy. Or maybe they have some other problem that eliminating milk helps, but it doesn't solve the issue.

I just do not want to go through this again. I've done it once, so hopefully I'm smarter now. But who knows? Maybe we haven't solved Googie's problem yet. Maybe it's two completely different things they just happen to develop the problem at the exact same age.

The only good thing about the whole situation is I'm still breast-feeding Dot. So we're going back to an exclusive breast milk diet. That was an option I didn't have with Googie. But still. I'm dreading the next couple of weeks. She has an appointment in 10 days. If the pear juice and breast milk hasn't fixed the problem by then, I'll have to convince the doctor that this is serious.

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Poor Baby

I'm sure every man is different, and some can deal better than others . . . but every time my husband gets sick I suddenly have 3 babies to take care of.


I mentioned in a previous post about my DH's work as an auditor. It's busy season right now and he literally cannot miss a day. He felt like he was coming down with something this morning, and then by lunch I'm pretty sure he was running a fever. But he still didn't get home tonight until 8:15 and he has to be at work tomorrow by 8:00. He really doesn't have a choice in the matter. Right now he is laying in bed with at least a 102 degree temperature. We didn't take it, but when he's freezing under my wonderful heavy down comforter and asks for a second blanket you know it's for real.

Back to the point of this post. He is the biggest baby around me when he's sick. He worked the entire day today with out complaining to the manager once. They walked to dinner. He drove himself home, and had a nice long conversation with his brother. But from the moment he walked through the door all I heard was "Hunny I don't feel good, could you _____________?" Get me some Tylenol, a drink, some soup, another blanket, rub my back, quiet down the baby . . . the list goes on. The only other thing I heard all night was "I feel like crap. (list symptoms here because heaven knows I didn't hear him the last 20 times, and I've never had the flu, nor taken care of an 18 month old while having said flu. I couldn't possibly understand the severity of the symptoms.)"

It was really cute the first couple of times he did it, when we were newly married and didn't have kids. He is a very independent person and I liked to feel needed. I guess I set a precedent those first few times. So it's partly my fault.

I do have to cut him some slack though. He has a very demanding job this time of year, and it's not like he stayed at work because he wanted too. And if he doesn't complain to me who else is he going to? He needs some place to vent.

I guess what I would really like is reciprocal treatment. When I'm sick, I'd like someone to take care of me, or at least the kids. I'd like a certain some one to listen to my whining and say things like "I know you feel like crap, go to bed" or "It'll be better tomorrow" or "What can I get for you? Would you like another pillow, or blanket?" Anything is better than, "it can't be that bad. Get up and move around it helps."

DH is sick. Googie was cranky tonight. And Dot's still not asleep. Man, am I a lucky momma or what?

**Just on a side note. I have talked with DH about this. He knows that he's not very sympathetic when I'm sick. I bring it up every time he gets sick. So I'm not sharing any feelings he doesn't already know I have.**

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Praying for Poop

Dot hasn't pooped in 5 days. I'm worried.

I know that a normal exclusively breastfed baby will go up to 10 days without pooping, but with Googie's history with constipation, I'm just worried.

It's been 5 days. The waiting has begun. The praying for a poopy diaper has started. I truly, sincerely, absolutely, hope that I am wrong . . .

But Dot hasn't pooped for 5 days.

At least we have experience this time. At least it won't take 18 months to get it under control this time. At least my house is already set up to eliminate milk quickly.

But really, let me be wrong. Let her be normal.

Dot, please will you poop?

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I need a Breather

Seriously.

You want to hear about my night. Oh good, I need to vent to somebody.

First of all. I've held Dot, all night. All NIGHT people. Everytime I put her down she crys. She's crying as we speak, well wait. There she stopped. I'm I wonderful and loving mom, really I am. But when she's cried everytime I put her down, even just to go to the bathroom . . . well, lets just say everybody has their breaking point. (Huh, I thought my ears were getting a break, but alas the crying has begun yet again.)

So that's mostly just a common annoyance, and if that was all I'd be okay. But then there is Googie.

Okay, so the first time was me getting mad because I didn't understand. She comes out of her bedroom saying she has to go pottie. I took her 5 minutes before. 5 minutes. I don't care how small your bladder is you don't have to go again. I put her back in bed (pick up Dot who has been crying, again). 5 minutes later I hear her playing in the hall just out of my sight. So I get up and put her back in bed during protests that she really does need to go pottie (little side note here, if Dot hadn't been crying I probably would have listened to her a little better, but I was slightly distracted). Then the third time I hear her open the door, and I am really mad. Why isn't she staying in bed. When I round the corner she is crouched over, crying and pooping in her pull-up (which, by the way, we had just spoke explicitly about not getting dirty). Poor thing. I cleaned her up and got her back in bed. Of course, through it all Dot is crying.

So I settle Dot down and get her to sleep. I'm holding her, and heaven forbid I should even think about putting her down. Then I hear a crash in the girls room. I have to set Dot down and so commences the crying.

Upon arriving in the room, I find Googie in her closet/playroom. She is stuck in her dolly's playpen, smashed against the wall. So I pick her up and put her back in bed. Then as I go back to shut the closet door I see the box of tissues pulled out all over the floor, toys scattered everywhere, and half of the clothes that I had just put in her drawer not 5 minutes before bedtime, strewn across the room. (Deep breaths everyone, DEEP breaths.)

Honestly, I know it could be worse, and it's not the end of the world. That crying baby soundtrack playing in the background just makes the whole situation unbearable.

Now to go and tend to the still crying offspring.

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Just Stay in Bed, Things Are Better Under the Covers

Most days I love being a mom. Then there are day's like today.

We all woke up this morning to Button's screaming (by the way, Button is the baby's name. She just likes to be swaddled and held so much, I feel like she's a button on my shirt! Not to mention she's just a tiny dot of a thing right now. I love that my girls stay little for so long). Googie woke up and yelled at me through the wall "sissy sad, sissy sad" and then I hear "sissy, sissy, shhhhh, shhhhh, sissy, HEY! Sssissy! SHHHHH!!!!" So I drag myself out of bed, go in their room and realize that it is once again time to feed Button. I feel like I am constantly feeding this girl! Every two hours round the clock, except for one 4 hour period at night. She eats constantly.

I turn on a show for Googie (yeah for Dora!) and sit her down so I can nurse Button. She eats for all of 5 minutes per sitting. Such a stinker. Googie and I get breakfast, and then the fun really starts. I set Button down for two seconds and she starts screaming. I pick her up and she stops. It's going to be one of THOSE days. I pull out the trusty sling, which I feel like I should just adopt as a shirt, I wear the darn thing so much! Get Button all cozied up and force the binky on her.

Now that I have Button all setteled down, it's Googies turn to cry. Her cry is more like a whine.

"Mom read me a book, no not like that. AHHHHH. Mom, why are you runining my life! No I don't want to play with my babies, and to prove it I'll scatter them all over the family room, while I throw myself on the ground. No I don't want to finish my breakfast. How dare you ignore my fit! Look at me while I'm screaming at you! HEY!!!! Owww, now I hit my head on the floor because I threw a fit. Feel sorry for me!!! NOOOO Don't Touch ME!!!! AHHHHHH!!!!!"

At least that's what she would have said if she was about 10 years older, I can't wait to have pre-teen/teenagers. She's taking a nap now. She'd been up for two hours and already I'd had enough and put her back to bed. I know, such a mean mom.

I'm supposed to make rolls to take to a little luncheon today. I'm also supposed to take a shower, do the laundry, and apparently pick up every toy we own, but so far nothing has gotten done. I'm so glad I got out of bed this morning.

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Back to Babies

Okay, I realize I really don't have much room to moan, but this is the internet, and you all have to listen because I say so. Either that or you don't have to read it, but I choose to believe that you do, and that you care, and sympathize, and say everything I want to hear -- Just like any good friend would do.

I am only on my second child and I am SICK of babies. Okay, I should clarify, I'm sick of getting up 3-4 times a night. I'm sick of being tired all day. I'm sick of having boobs that don't work right. I'm tired of babies crying for no apparent reason. I can't stand not having a solid schedule.

On the other hand, I love holding her when she's sleeping, and gazing into the deep brown eyes when they're open. And, um, yeah that's about it. I guess I could say I like her poopy diapers but that wouldn't be completely true. I just like that they don't smell yet. You know, no real food.

I am ready to be done having babies. I'm ready to move on from this stage of my life. I'm ready for kids who speak to me, in real words, not their own language. I just wish it was five years from now, I'd have my 3 kids all over the age of 3 and I'd be done with babies.

I'd still hold someone else’s baby. I'd even watch someone else’s baby. But come night I'd have my bed, and uninterrupted sleep (I really don't want to hear from you mothers with older children that they still wake you up. Just don't say it, okay? I'm falling asleep with my eyes open right now and I just need to believe that someday before they all move out, I will again get a full night sleep).

Our current chapter of babyhood is realizing once again that my left boob will never be nurse-able, pump-able, or ever in any way produce an ounce of milk. It quits working once my milk comes in. Go figure. I even have a hospital grade pump, and I got zilch after 20 minutes today. I've officially given up on it. This inevitably means that I won’t make it to the one year mark yet again before my baby’s weaned. And I will for the next 6-8 months have very, very un-evened sized breasts. I am determined this time to make it to 6 months on an exclusive diet of breast milk. Really a very do-able goal as long as I don't get obsessed about different sized boobs, or self conscious about stuffing a sock in the one side of my bra. Not only is formula annoying and I blame it for Googie's constipation issues, but it's expensive!

And of course to add to my annoyance, we’ve developed Thrush. You all know what that is, and for those of you who haven't had it just imagine itching so bad that it hurts to the point of tears, and then add a strong baby suckle on top of that. It's really not fun. Luckily I have a cool pediatrician who didn't make me come in for an appointment with both my girls, so she could look in my baby's mouth and tell me what I already know. She kindly just called in the prescription.

And just to make my life a living hell, my dear, sweet, cuddly, 2 weeks old today, daughter decided that she wanted to scream for three hours this morning. No reason. No diaper rash, no bug bites, no bubbles, not hungry, she just felt like screaming. Maybe it was the thrush, I don't know. She screamed for three hours straight without letting up. Then I finally got her to eat and it calmed her down enough to get her to sleep for a couple hours. Then she woke up and decided to scream again for an hour this afternoon before crying herself to sleep. So far this evening hasn't been that bad. Hopefully this was a one time thing. I don't think I have the stamina or the patience to deal with a truly colicky child.

I am so ready to be done with babies.

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Emotional Roller Coaster

Happy due date to me,
Now where's this ba-by?
She needs to come swift-ly,
Happy due date to me!
(sung to Happy Birthday to You)

Yes people the day has arrived. The expectant day that will come and go without the appearance of our new arrival, or the shrinking of my oh so huge bump. YEAH!

The past couple of days have been so hard on me. Emotionally and physically.

On Wednesday, August 30th I woke up feeling less rested than usual (if that's even possible), and very flu-ish. I had no appetite, and a really low dull backache. That night around 8:00 PM I thought my water broke and we went into labor and delivery to get checked out. Obviously, since I'm still pregnant, my membranes were still intact. I don't understand how that's possible. I stood up and . . . well I don't want to gross you out too bad . . . but . . . I know where it came out of me (it was not pee!), I know what it felt like (discharge is not a likely possibility, though according to my nurse sometimes it can get runny towards the end??? I had not heard that one before), and I know what it smelt like (NOTHING! It was like smelling water). Anyway, the hospital test came back negative, but while we were waiting for the test results I started having contractions. Really REALLY hard contractions that started out at 3 minutes apart, and by the time the nurse came back (30 minutes later) they were down to a minute and a half apart. She checked my dilation and it was at 3 cm. So we stayed for an extra hour, I got up walked around, and tried to get my muscles to relax. After an hour, they were still 90 seconds apart, but I hadn't dilated anymore. So the nurse gave us the choice to stay or leave. She said that since a) I hadn't dilated anymore, b) we live 10 minutes from the hospital, and c) I am really, really trying to avoid pitocin this time around, we were fine if we wanted to head home and wait for the contractions to get stronger and longer before we came back. So we decided that coming home was probably the best choice, because we would at least be able to relax and try to sleep in our own bed. The contractions spaced themselves out about 45 minutes after we got home, and acted more like the ones I've been having for the past three weeks. So my husband headed to bed, and I tried to sleep too, but just couldn't. I fell asleep twice and got a total of 2 hours of sleep. Between the intermittent contractions, and the emotional let down of not coming home from the hospital with a baby, I could not get to sleep.

Thursday, August 31st I was an emotional wreck all day. I hadn't had any sleep. Hadn't eaten a real meal since Tuesday night, and that dull backache was back again. My wonderful husband stayed home from work which was sooo helpful because it let me get a little sleep, and I didn't have to deal with a needy 23 month old all day. I think I cried most of the day, and really didn't know why or what about. I mean, I was disappointed we didn't have our baby home yet, but most of the time I would just start crying, and couldn't tell you why. It was a crappy day. I forced myself to eat, even though I felt nauseous all day. I tried to sleep, but it was almost like my body was going into shock. I couldn't get my muscles to relax, I kept shaking. I cried myself to sleep both times I finally got there, and woke up an hour later not feeling any better. It really was one of the worst days of my life. I finally fell asleep that night after a hot shower and a warm cup of cran-apple herbal tea.

So that brings us up to today. I was surprised when I woke up and it was actually morning. I hadn't even had to get up to pee (guess I'm a little dehydrated). I finally feel rested, and the antsy feeling is gone out of my stomach.

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While we were at the hospital Wednesday night they were having trouble tracking the baby's heart beat on the regular stomach monitor because of her arrhythmia. So at my doctors appointment today we discussed the possibility of having to do a c-section. I'm scheduled for an induction on next Tuesday. We'll go in, they'll break my water and try attaching a heart rate monitor directly to her scalp. Because there won't be as much interference noise the monitor may be able to pick up her heart beat. If the monitor can't pick it up, we will need to do a c-section for two reasons: the fact that they can't monitor her heart means that they won't know if she is under too much stress, and her arrhythmia could get worse during labor to the point that they would need to do a c-section anyway.

So I'm having another rough emotional day today. This heart condition was never really discussed before and dismissed as benign and nothing to worry about. So when they came back today and said we might need a c-section, that worries me. I'm worried something might be wrong with her, or go seriously wrong during the delivery. I'm also worried about maybe having to have a c-section myself. I realize that hundreds of people do it, and a lot of them even elect to do it, but it scares me. It's still surgery. I'm not worried about the scar, I'm worried about the recovery time. I'm worried about being able to take care of Googie. I'm worried about being able to get up to my apartment. I'm worried about trying to take care of two kids. I'm worried about nursing. It's just so much easier to give birth vaginally, whatever the pain you go through over the course of labor. This is just a big maybe that really has me worried.

But then again, I might not even need to be worried. Maybe they'll break my water and attach the little electrode, and everything will be just fine. And maybe it won't.

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Counting Down

Three days. I have three days until I'm due. Coincidently, I also have three days until my "last" doctors appointment. It can't come fast enough. (And I better be dilated and ready to go into labor, or that doctor is going to get . . . gonna get . . . well, . . . just believe me it will be something bad -- like a crying, irrational, ready-to-pop pregnant lady)

You know a lot of things in life are all about perspective. Right now, three days seems like an eternity. But I think back on how long I've been uncomfortable. How long it's been since I didn't have to get up at night and pee? Or sleep with the fan blowing in the wonderfully cool night air. How long has it been since I've been able to stand up and walk with out a twinge of pain running down my legs for the first few steps? When was the last time I was able to pick up Googie without feeling my lunch come up, or hurting my back, or smashing my bladder? It's been a long time. So what's three more days?

Three more days I can handle. Anything longer is an eternity.

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Baby Scare

At my doctors appointment yesterday they discovered a slight unevenness in the baby's heart beat. So my doctor said very nonchalantly "I'm going to go ahead and set you up an appointment for a third ultrasound, just to make sure it's nothing unusual. I'm sure it's not, but it's just better to be safe." I'm thinking it's going to be within the next week, I mean if they're not worried about anything . . .

He pokes his head back in the exam room and says "Okay it's all set up for 1:00 today. And I'll see you in a week if you make it that long."

A million thoughts run through my head all at the same time. I don't even have enough brain left to respond. I felt like I ran into a brick wall. Why is my appointment today? This place is always busy, they never have appointments open the day of. He must have pulled some strings to get me in today. Why would he need to get me in today? What's so wrong with my baby that I need to be seen today? Is she okay? Oh yep, she just kicked my ribs. Why does it have to be her heart they're worried about? Oh, this is really bad timing. Who's going to watch Googie? 1:00, huh. Wait, that means I need to leave my house in 20 minutes . . . my brain went on for a good 5 minutes before I settled myself down enough to find Googie a sitter, and head home to eat some lunch.

Why, why do doctors think that they don't need to tell you what they think is wrong? They don't want to worry you until they know for sure something's actually wrong. What better way to worry an expectant mother than to send her off for an emergency ultrasound because you listened to her babies heart?

Well it turns out that it's nothing to be concerned about. The baby is having premature atrial contractions. Which apparently is really common. It just means her heart is adding an extra half beat every now and then.

What it could have been (which is really serious and could have forced them to induce me right away to take care of the problem) is a condition where her heart is adding extra beats (whole beats not half beats like my baby) more and more frequently and could end up essentially putting her heart rate over 200 beats per minute and wearing her little heart out (I don't know the scientific name for it, but it's a serious condition in unborn children).

After learning what they thought might be wrong with the baby, I have two separate opinions about what the doctor should or shouldn't have told me. I'm glad he didn't tell me what a serious condition they thought she might have. I would have gone home and cried and made my husband come with my to the ultrasound, and just been a wreck. But on the other hand. I would have liked to be prepared for the possibility of the hospital stay and the birth. I would have left Googie with some pajamas and a change of clothes. I would have brought my camera's so I could have pictures. You know, basically just brought my little (okay it's a pretty big duffel) bag that I have all packed up.

Anyway, I'm just glad all that stuff wasn't necessary. And for the first time in the past 2 months, I actually woke up this morning happy to still be pregnant.

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It's HOT

I am dying . . . dying from the heat. I don't know how much longer I can stand it. We live on the second floor of the apartment complex. We're not allowed to use window air conditioners. I have employed every tactic I know of to stay cool. I've got fans going. My feet have been in a bucket of ice water most of the day. I went and chopped my hair off. I have a spray bottle with ice water in it that gets sprayed whenever there isn't enough sweat to cool me off. I feel like I'm melting literally.

Now all of you are wondering how hot it is outside my house. You can feel the sweat rolling down your back, but guess what. It's only 95 degrees outside. At 28% the humidity isn't even that bad. So what's my problem?

1. My problem is we live in the northwest, where it gets over 85 and every one who owns an air conditioner has it on full blast.
2. My problem is I'm 34 weeks pregnant and have my own little eternal heater that can't be turned off.
3. My problem is I'm a good LDS girl and have to be modest.
4. My problem is we didn't make it to the pool today, and I didn't spend the last 4 hours in a wet bathing suit (like I did yesterday even though we'd left the pool 3 hours earlier).

My problem??

My problem is I don't fit in my freezer, or even my fridge for that matter.

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I Need A Vacation

Let me just summarize our trip.

789 miles driven
30 repetitions of wheels on the bus
15 rest stop bathroom breaks
10 movies
5 different hotel rooms
4 days with 7+ hours in the car
3 hours of I-want-to-get-out-of-the-car crying
1 pregnant mama, 8 weeks left until delivery
0 naps

We drove four days, FOUR DAYS, to get to Idaho Falls. For what? 3.5 days to spend with family. That's it. 3.5 days. In those 3.5 days we managed to stay in 3 different hotel rooms. Lugging all our stuff up at night and dragging it all back down in the morning. Most of our vacation was spent driving. Have you been through Idaho lately??? There is nothing scenic about it. Nor is there anything worth stopping and seeing. So we drove. Spent a ton of money on hotel rooms and dinners, and spent a measly 3.5 days with extended family. You couldn't pay me to do this vacation again.

With all this in mind, we spent a good half of the trip home discussing what the perfect vacation would be. There are a ton of destinations that we'd like to visit some day, too many to list. I'll just focus on elements of a perfect vacation.

1. No driving, or as minimal as possible.
2. One hotel destination (one destination period).
3. Someplace kid friendly and fun.
4. At least 4 days long, so I don't feel like I packed up and spent all that money for nothing.

Okay, so my list isn't that long. It shouldn't be that hard to accomplish the perfect vacation based on those. Of course with kids . . . Nothing is ever going to be perfect again is it?

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Vacation Planning

We're leaving this week for a Idaho Falls. Yipee! Whoever picked Idaho Falls for our family reunion was smoking something. It's pretty dead out there.

It's going to be a two day drive to get there. I've already been collecting toys that will keep googie busy (I have a crate sized box full of them), and we have a portable DVD player that she loves to watch. So she should be covered. And if I can keep her happy then everyone will be in a better mood.

So now all that's left is to clean the house, buy some food, and pack.

Wish me luck at my in-laws . . . I'll have loads of stories (read: irritations, complaints, and lots of funny conversations) when we get back.

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PMS

Okay, so I've had a bad week.

I've been thinking a lot about how to write this post. I need to write it. I need to get these feelings written down so that they don't overwhelm me. But I don't want to freak anyone out. Please don't be freaked out. I'll be fine, really.

I am almost 6 months pregnant. I hate it. I hate everything about it. I'm not even sick anymore, and I still hate it. I hate retarded maternity clothes. I hate my belly. I hate the stretch marks that are reappearing. I hate, Hate, HATE being pregnant.

Is it possible to have the 'baby blues' before you even have the baby? I don't know how else to decribe what I'm feeling. I cry at the most random times. I don't have the energy to get anything done. Somedays I eat constantly, and other days I can't eat at all.

I'm frustrated with myself because I can't keep the house clean. I am frustrated because I can't seem to love the life growing inside of me. I hate myself for wishing her away (make sure to understand 'wishing' I could never do anything that would get rid of her, just wishing I could go back in time and change the past). I hate how irritable I am. And I hate that I'm sad about being pregnant.

I was so excited from day one that I found out I was pregnant with googie. Being pregnant was all that I dreamed it would be. It was worth throwing up for. It was worth labor to have her here. But with this one its not and I hate that.

I hate that I'm crying as I write this. I hate that I get mad when she kicks me. I hate feeling this way. Why can't I just be happy?

** I do have to add that today has been an unusually bad day, uh week. Usually I don't feel like this constantly. It comes and goes. Every month I have a bad day, or sometimes week. But I cry for awhile, get it out of my system, and it goes away for awhile. I swear it's like I'm still PMSing once a month. Is that even possible?**

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But I wanted CHOCOLATE!!! WAHHHHHHH!!!!

I realize this is probably a phase and I am going to have to deal with it for a while but man is it annoying!

Every little thing that happens is a catastrophe! I threw the ball and it wasn't in my hands anymore, wahhhhhhhhh! I bumped my finger on the couch, Wahhhhhhhh! I told myself no, but I really wanted to do it, WAhhhhhhhh! He doesn't want to play with me anymore, WAHHhhhhhhh! My goodness child. It's not the end of the world! She doesn't actually tell me what's wrong. She just forces a fake cry and if she does it for long enough it turns into a real cry. She's only 19 months. This isn't a phase I want to deal with until she's 3, or 4!

I just don't know what to do with her. She's been doing it for about a month now. At first I thought she just needed more hugs and attention, but that only seemed to make matters worse. She got the idea that if she cries, for any reason, I am going to drop everything and give her whatever she wants. So then I tried ignoring it. She would fake cry and run after me until she got herself so worked up that she was really crying and I couldn't ignore it anymore.

So now I am just really tired of the whole thing, and I need a way to make her understand that if she needs anything, all she has to do is ask. And that everything isn't going to go her way all the time.

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Complaints of Pregnancy

Maternity clothes are such a pain! The pants don't stay up, the shirts make you look huge, and for sunday dresses . . . Good Luck!

Okay, so I have 3 or 4 maternity shirts that I absolutley love. The pants though are the biggest pains! Every time you sit down or stand up you have to readjust where the waist band is sitting. I've tried every type of style that there is. The full belly panel, the demi-panel, the no panel, even the roll over panel. None of them stay up! You'd think with people being pregnant all the time, all over the country, one company would have come up with a maternity pant that will stay where it is supposed to!

Dresses are the worst! They are huge on you until 6 or 7 months, and by 9 months they don't fit. Besides the fact that most (and I am saying most because I realize there are some cute dresses. That is, if you didn't have to wear something that covered knee-length garments, and were willing to pay $50+ for them) are jumpers. News flash jumpers look good on no one (over the age of 10), pregnant or not.

So lately I've been trying to find a good jean or kalkhi skirt that I can wear with my cute tops. So far, no luck. It doesn't help that it's getting to be summer, and the skirts are getting shorter. Though who would want to see a pregnant lady in a mid thigh skirt is beyond me. I thought I might be able to find a long one on sale, but no luck. Nothing. I found one jean skirt at Motherhood, but they were out of my size, and wanted $40. So as of now I am left feeling like a tent every sunday at church.

I don't want you to get the wrong idea and thing that I always look amazing, and am one of those has-to-look-cute-to-go-out moms. Most of the time my hair is pulled back, and I hardly ever do my make-up. But pregnancy is hard on anyone I think. Even the second time around, when I know how my body is going to change, I hate the way I look. I feel fat constantly, even if I do only have a little belly. I'm tired, I'm irritable. I don't like being pregnant, and the clothes that are available for pregnancy don't make me feel any better.

And to make things worse . . . there are actually people out there who enjoy being pregnant, some will even go so far as to say they LOVE being pregnant. I know it's hard to believe, but they exist. Who Likes Being Fat??? Now some I think use pregnancy as an excuse to eat whatever they want whenever they want. Maybe they like that idea. Or maybe they are just really happy people who are really good at seeing the whole picture, and think every day when they look in the mirror, 'I'm happy I'm getting stretch marks all over my huge belly it means my baby is growing,' 'I love throwing up as soon as I wake up, in 7 more months I'll have a baby.'

Me, I'm not one of them. I was actually hoping that this time would be twins, whatever challenges they pose, so that this would be the last time I had to be pregnant. We would have our three kids and be done. It didn't happen.

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Frustrated

So we went to the ultrasound today to find out if the baby was healthy, on track . . . blah, blah, blah . . . but the important thing was to know the sex of the baby, so I could start buying clothes and decorating.

So I have two basic questions:
1.) Do they not tell the tech's that knowing the sex of the baby is the most important thing to parents who want to know?
2.) And do these people have any training in anatomy at all?

I mean the lady doing my ultrasound was probably new, and I'm sure the baby was turned a funny direction, but come on!

The lady couldn't find the baby's butt. She took 20 minutes trying to locate the femur (all the while pushing really hard on my stomach. It hurt. When I told her she mumbled something and pushed harder), and she took a zillon pictures of the heart. IT HAS A HEART. I KNOW IT DOES. WE'VE SEEN IT IN THE PAST 19 PICTURES!

So then, we've been calling the baby a he the entire ultrasound, we've told her we want a boy, that we already have a girl at home, and she has they audasicty to say she would predict it's a girl just because "I couldn't see any boy parts." PLEASE!!!!! She couldn't see a butt, she could barely see a leg. She couldn't find any 'female parts' either! Be a little considerate and just ADMIT you couldn't see anything! Gosh!

Oh and then to top it all off, this is the picture she gave us to take home. One picture. Our friends who went to the same clinic got seven. SEVEN. We have one.

It is a skull. Looking straight at you. Kind of hard to see at first, but hey you can see the BRAIN! It is the ugliest picture! She had a really cute one sitting on the screen at the end. You could totally see the babies profile, and a little hand. But she couldn't print that one off. So the skull. That's it. That's how I will picture my baby for the next 5 months. Thanks a lot lady!

Incompetent people just make me want to SCREAM!!!

If anyone had any really good home tricks for determining the babies sex, ones that really work, and have worked for practically everyone you know, let me know. I'm ready to try anything!

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Pictures + Googie = Nightmare!

Okay so I should add a few more things into the equation. First of all the picture place was running about 45 minutes behind schedule. So I show up for our 12:10 appointment at 12:05. I was kind of rushing around when I got there because I still had to get Googie all dressed, and put a bow in her hair. We had plenty of time! We waited almost an hour. They finally got us in to do pictures at 1:00. Normally Googie is very good at pictures, she always has a smile on her face and loves to play with their props. Not today. She'd already had to walk around the same area for an hour. She was tired. She was hungry. She was not a happy picture person.

We got a couple of cute pictures done, and she just lost it! She was crying, she wanted me to hold her, she had to have her binki. None of which work well for taking pictures. It took me ten minutes to get her all calmed down enough to finish out the session. So we did get a couple cute poses with a smile, a couple the turned out okay, and some where she just looks grumpy.

Even though I ordered some of the cute pictures, and was very satisfied with the way they turned out, overall, I was not happy with our service. My biggest complaint was the wait time. Now granted the picture place can't predict if a child will be grumpy. But what put them behnid schedule wasn't that they had grumpy children. The appointment before us was twin girls 3 weeks old. So if I'm scheduling that appointment, I would give them twice as long as normal, with one photographer. The way they ended up doing it was giving them one appointment time slot and both photographers in with them to 'help'. So by the time it was our turn there were 6 (yes 6. I'm not exaggerating!) Mothers with kids waiting for their pictures. I mean come on! If no one else was there fine, have two photographers in there. But with so many of us waiting . . .

It was ridiculus. Then they tried to rush us through our session, which I think is part of what set Googie off, a very small part. Then they were annoyed because it took me so long to calm her down so we could finish.

So let me finish my rant with this. We got some really cute pictures out of it, but overall a very bad experience.

But what do you do?

I could have left before the session and just come back another day for the pictures. But she was already dressed up and we had already driven all the way there . . .

I could have not bought any pictures and made a huge deal over their service. But there were some really cute shots . . .

So I ended up buying a couple of sheets and leaving, with a very tired, cranky, and hungry girl. What else could I do?

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Update:

So Googie finally fell asleep from pure exhaustion, at 2:45. She woke up twice more to throw-up (an hour apart) and then 3 more times (45 minutes apart) to dry heave because there wasn't anything left in her stomach. Finally at 7:00 she went back to sleep, and slept till 8. When she woke up asking me for a sippie, or as she calls it a "seeee." Poor thing. I couldn't give her one.

You all know the drill. Two hours after she pukes she can have 1 tablespoon of liquid every 5-10 minutes until she throws up then you have to wait another two hours. For every hour she goes without puking you double the amount of liquid. Finally after 8 hours she can have a piece of toast. So after being on gross pedialyte for 8 hours she gets a piece of toast. Poor thing. I think I can actually see her loosing weight. And she doesn't need to, she's already in the 1 0th percentile for her weight (and 85th for her height)! I feel so bad for her. And yet at the same time . . . I am perturbed that she kept me up all night, and that she will probably get me sick, which I really don't need. Love her to death, but she needs to keep getting better, and not regress.

I'm going to take a nap.

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Sleep, I need Sleep

I know. It's 1:43 in the flippin morning. What am I doing up??!!!! Well I'll tell you what I'm doing up. I'm watching The Incredibles for the third time in a row. You ask me why . . . what a silly question. Because my perfect Googie won't sleep. Well it's not just that she's a brat. She has the flu I think. She's thrown up three times since 10:00, poor thing. I called the doctor, because it didn't look like any puke I'd ever seen and I thought maybe she'd gotten into something while my back was turned, and they said it's normal and has been going around. So here we are up at 1:46 AM now. (No I am not a slow typer it really didn't take me three minutes to write that, and no I didn't re-edit it a million time, I had to restart the movie. Don't you love it at the beginning of the Incredibles when they're interviewing the supers? Well watch it three times then tell me how you feel the fourth.)

Anyways, so I didn't mention it in the previous post, but I am pregnant with our second child. We find out in two and a half weeks if it's a boy or girl. But the point is that I'm barely over morning sickness, and I'm really not doing well with the puke. So far it's Googie 3, Mommy 2, Daddy 1/2 (don't ask what 1/2 means, please, it's gross.) So now I need to go and tend to a child who smells like she has marinated in puke. I gave her a bath after the first two times, but it just seems futile if she's going to throw up every hour or so. Maybe I can get her to go to sleep so I can too. So now at 1:49 AM I bid you farewell.

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