NYE.

Well, this year is pretty awesome. 

NYE 2008 , I had a BFN and went to a party wishing I was not allowed to drink.  Depressing.

NYE 2009, we spent the day at the hospital for monitoring and I got put on bed rest. We did not go to the party.  Scary. 

NYE 2010, Peter had a miserable cold and I sent Mr. to the party without me.  I was happy and thankful for Peter- my snotty and drooly baby. 

NYE 2011 Again with the NO PARTY.  My third year missing it.  I'll probably miss it next year too.  But you know, I really don't miss it at all.  Because our son ran shirtless through the house tonight shrieking and laughing and tripping and playing.  Requesting multiple stories and songs and getting into mischief.  Delighting us, just like he always does because he is AWESOME.  And incredibly, magically, amazingly it seems we will have TWO of these loons chasing each other on NYE 2012.  We can't wait. 

Appointment

It went well.  Except for the part where I feel doomed to no vbac.  Do not get me wrong, I am ECSTATIC to be having a baby.  I am, and however he gets here as long as he is healthy is FINE.  Super.  AWESOME.  REALLY.  But I remember all too fucking well the misery of recovery with a constantly crying baby.  Add Peter to the mix and I am forecasting badness.  And the fact that there is nothing to be done about it has me going between calm acceptance and epic denial.  It could happen, right?  I asked my ob( there are two in the practice) if she thought it was likely I would go into labor on my own and she said no.  I prefer honesty in my drs so I am glad she gave me her opinion instead of refusing to commit but I am holding out some hope to avoid surgery.  If I did not have Peter, I would not care.  But I do have Peter and so I HAVE to care.

Other than that, my blood pressure is great and everything else is good.  This pregnancy is much easier than Peter's.  That sentence is so simple but says so much, sheesh no carpal tunnel, no anal fissures, so placenta previa, no tmj, no gestational diabetes.  AMAZING.     Anyhow, my c-section is scheduled for March 5th at 8 45 a.m.  Which is nice because it is a Monday so gives us the whole weekend for last minute shit and cuddling with Peter. 


In related Peter news, my ob said I have to find a way to get him to nap because she does not want me staying in one position for longer than a half hour( like in the car) but he just won't.  Why does everyone think I am not trying?  HELLO I AM EXHAUSTED I WOULD LOVE IT IF HE NAPPED. 

30-ish weeks

Here we are.  My next appointment is in two days, I can't believe how quickly the two weeks went.  Christmas was awesome.  I would say 80% awesome, 20% my Mom was being a martyr.  But the important parts were awesome.  Really Mom just kind of rolls of my back now.  Sort of.  After I have had a couple days perspective.  Peter had a great time and so did we.  All the important stuff got done.  Except cleaning the bathrooms and baking cookies.  But the house was mostly clean and everyone had a nice time.

I am trying to slow down now, I have a lot I would like to do but I am trying to pace myself.  I get another chance tomorrow.

The super BIG exciting news is that....... I DO NOT HAVE GESTATIONAL DIABETES THIS TIME.  Holy CRAPBALLS PEOPLE.  What are the odds?  I am actually wondering as my casual googling did not tell me.  They said I passed my test just fine.  Hooray!  I celebrated with hot chocolate.  And general giddiness.  And not just because I love cheese fries.  Mostly because every time I would try and monitor my blood sugar and eat at the right times it would all go to hell.

Well, I suppose that is it for now.  I am too pooped to be all introspective and stuff.  

I am back to add that I am totally blown away by the conclusion I came to.  Since my blood sugar is fine, I am REALLY JUST THIS EXHAUSTED.  Holy Mother.  

29 weeks

It's getting harder. This weekend I was pretty useless since we did so much shopping this past week and my foot hurt so much when I put any weight on it.  My ankles are pretty swollen.  Right now he is doing his finals( he went back to school about two years ago) and I am sitting in a very messy house.  But here I sit. Because I have to spare my feet for the coming week.  Hopefully this pain will go away like the sciatica and the random inner thigh pain did. 

My neighbor is coming over for a few hours tomorrow to watch Peter while I put my feet up.  We went to two holiday parties this weekend and spent about nine hours total in the car.  UGH.  But it was nice to see our family.  EXCEPT  YOU, MIL.  My mother in law made me into my own worst nightmare.  Probably none of you remember my worst infertility holiday but I will never forget it.  Anyhow, when we got to the family brunch we were shocked to see both MIL and FIL there.    Peter was very clingy and needed me to hold him.  So I was holding Peter and MIL stood up next to me to introduce me and Peter and then that cow rubbed my stomach and said "AND THIS IS NUMBER TWO"  She has no idea how lucky she was that I was A. shocked and B. holding our son.  Because THE URGE TO KILL WAS INSTANT. 

I cannot believe she did that.  NO ONE WANTS TO GREET MY STOMACH, YOU CRAZY BITCH.  I cannot believe she rubbed me.  NO RUBBING.  I hate it.  I hate it so much.  If you did not help put the baby IN and you are not helping take the baby OUT, then DO NOT RUB ME.  Especially do not do it when I do not like you to begin with.  I cannot believe that heifer made me INTO my own worst infertility nightmare. 

When I say that I am never going to let this go, I AM NEVER GOING TO LET THIS GO.  I am so, so,SO happy that we are not telling her when we go in to have the baby. 

I failed my one hour glucose test, so we are going in on Friday to take the three hour.  No big shock there.  At least Mr. already had that day off so he can drive me and watch Peter.    I am pretty resigned to having GD, and not scared about it or upset.  It's not that terrible once you get used to it.  Or at least it was not last time.  As long as my blood pressure stays low, I will be happy.

You can get used to anything. Sort of.

It's Friday.  FINALLY.  Peter is still not napping in his crib and when left in his room to his own devices( AKA pray he gives in and goes to sleep) he gets into mischief.  Which is incredible considering how much we stripped down his room.  In his room are his bed, a rug, some books, a bookshelf we took the bottom shelves off to keep him from climbing it, and a dresser. Yeah, he climbs the chair and hangs off the back.  And has also figured out that he can climb the dresser.  So I don't feel safe leaving him in his safe room.  Not when he could fall off the back of the chair.  Do I think he would die?  No.  Do I think he would hurt himself and then we would have to go to the ER? DUH. 

Now that I plan to get nothing done between the hours of 7 a.m and 7 p.m. it is easier.  Well, easier in that I do not kid myself into thinking I can flip the laundry or cook dinner.  Because I can't. In the amount of time it takes me to peel a carrot that boy climbs up on the tv stand.  In the time it takes to get a glass of water( our house is 1800 square feet so what 90 seconds?) He climbs onto the dining room table. 

Anyway, my point is that I have surrendered to only getting done perhaps vacuuming since he likes to push the vacuum while it is running and putting away some laundry while he runs around upstairs.   I either cook dinner the night before or we have something that can be made in 10 minutes or less like grilled cheese and tomato soup. 

Everyone keeps telling me to take him for a drive. I resisted at first because that does not get anything done around our house, and it does not give me a real break since I hate to drive and it gets uncomfortable when the baby is low. But at least I get to sit down and it takes the edge off Peter.  Because otherwise he loses his MIND at around 4 30 or 5.  I have no idea how long this will go on.  But the physical and mental stress on me of chasing Peter for 12 hours is pretty harsh.  I cannot even pop a movie in and cook, because after a few minutes he plays with all the knobs on the tv, or tries to climb on the stand.  Or whatever.  Mr. and I have been fighting more, because by seven p.m. I am just worn down.  I do something like clean up the kitchen or put away a load( or four) of laundry and I am finished.

In happy Peter news he has finally had a vocabulary breakthrough.  He can count to 10( it was nine only two days ago) and can recognize about a quarter of the alphabet and numbers 1-9.  Ten is confusing for him but who could expect a toddler to understand 1 and 0 is different from 10?  He also knows many colors.  I did what that article Amanda linked to(mentioned?) suggested and instead of telling him something was a blue car or a red crayon I said"that crayon is red" "that car is blue". Which was a pain to get used to but obviously worked.  He knows green, blue, brown, white, black, peach, purple, yellow(that was the hardest for him to say and he calls it yel), and pink.  He also says crayon, cheese, cracker, cat, bunny, eye, milk, cookie, various animal sounds, car, bug,baby, tickle, nite nite, awake, and there are more.  He says new words every day and it is so awesome to see what is going on in his head.


He also plays games he makes up. Most notably,  NITE NITE, WAKE!  He lays down, says nite nite, and pretends to snore.  Then he sits up and says WAKE!  It is adorable, though semi-aggravating when he actually needs to sleep.   He is still not saying Mommy or any variation of it and has said Daddy only twice. 


I am going to help Mr. with some wrapping before Peter is WAKE!

28 weeks

Greetings to you third trimester.  I had my appointment today.  I am so tired.  I gained some more weight but no one complained so eff it. My blood pressure was good and that is nice.  I took the one hour glucose test but it will take a week to get the results.  After we get the results I am going to book our mini vacation for January.  Hopefully.  I might wait till 30 weeks just to see what my blood pressure does. 

I am fucking tired.  I HATE YOU GLUCOSE CHALLENGE.  Gah.  My sister slept over and stayed till two and so I was only alone with Mr. I WON'T NAP for four and a half hours.  He is still refusing to nap in his toddler bed and still getting exhausted and clearly in dire need of a nap.  We pushed his bedtime from 8 to 7 15.  That's the earliest we can get it, since he won't nap to let me get dinner done during the day and I can't always make it the night before.

Tomorrow I am going to wander the grocery store looking for the easiest meals possible. 

Tomorrow is also Mr's last bowling night for a year.  I am a bit sad for him because I know how much he enjoys bowling in his league.  But I cannot do it anymore and certainly not after March.  If this baby is relaxed( ahem not like Peter) then maybe he can go back sooner. 

My ob and I talked more about my pretty damn likely c-section today.  I am trying to remind myself that a healthy baby and mommy is the most important thing. And maybe I would be having more luck with that if I did not ALREADY know what it is like to care for an infant while recovering from a c-section.  I have an extremely high pain tolerance and it still sucked flaming balls for me and I am not a weenie about pain.   I do know women who bounced back much better than I did.  The idea of Compounding the SUCK of recovery with infant care and nursing and then with the needs of a toddler who still very much needs his Mommy makes me very unhappy.  Unhappy being A LARGE UNDERSTATEMENT.

Annyway, I asked if they had scheduled it yet and she said no, I repeated that while I trusted her and the other dr. very much and would abide by whatever they thought best I really wanted a vaginal delivery.  She said they normally do scheduled c-sections one week before your due date but that she would push mine to my actual due date.  But that their practice does not induce women who have had prior c-sections so I would have to go into labor on my own before 40 weeks. 

So I am feeling a little gloomy.  Instead of looking forward to being home with my family and enjoying that time I know I will be most likely creaking around and miserable and popping motrin. 

On the positive side my sister is planning to take five days off to stay with Peter while I am in the hospital, and so at least I know he will be with someone he is completely comfortable with. 

How to be pregnant with an active toddler. By special request.

This is somewhat like saying "How to boil water in 325 easy steps." because once you figure out what works either your pregnancy changes or your toddler does.

Sooooo in the beginning I was very tired but was able to function more or less normally.  I suggest putting an overnight diaper on your toddler when you go out for more than a normal errand.  For example, I love my OB and willingly make a nearly two hour round trip to get to her office.  It was a pain when I was pregnant with Peter.  Now that I am pregnant and WITH Peter, it is still a pain.  It jacks up his nap.  I have to pee by the time we get there.  He is either bored and restless  from sitting in the car or WIDE AWAKE from his hour long nap.  Either way, I have to find a way to deal with his energy.  Peter has been to every appointment I have had INCLUDING the two big ultrasounds.  Most memorably, at the ultrasound I had to see if the bleeding was normal or DEAD BABY bleeding, Peter was tickling my feet.

Anyhow, I bring toys that are small, that are ok to lose.  Say...third string toys.  And books.  And snacks.  And drinks.  I either get there EXACTLY on time so we don't have to wait or early enough to give him time to play.  There is a big atrium at my OB's and he likes to run around it.  I bring an umbrella stroller and bribes- chocolate milk and a treat like cookies for the wait.  I bring PATIENCE.  He is little.  Appointments are both BORING( sit in the stroller) and EXCITING( TOUCH ALL THE BUTTONS!  SMACK THE STIRRUPS! MOMMY HAS NO PANTS ON!  THROW MY TOYS!) it is very fortunate that both the obs in my practice are Moms of boys.  I know some girls are very active also( shout out to my homie Louise) but Peter is quite...peppy.

I also allow Peter to run around the atrium after the appointment, and then I allow him to run around outside for at least 15 minutes before the car drive home.  I plan the rest of our day out since I know his nap is most likely doomed.  We have an easy dinner like hotdogs that night and an easy lunch like yogurt.

Up until a few weeks ago Peter and I were able to walk for at least an hour every day.  It was a little weird because toward the end of our walks I would get contractions, especially if Peter wanted to be picked up to see something.  My ob assured me this is normal in a second pregnancy.  This is actually my third pregnancy, but I knew what she meant.

I had to drop my standards.  Because if I don't rest then I am exhausted by six p.m.  It meant that we had to creep back to tv. Which I am not happy about, but after getting some scary contractions at the grocery store I knew I needed to scale back.  So we eat hotdogs( they are nitrate free turkey dogs), spaghetti, deli turkey and noodles with instant gravy, macaroni and cheese, pizza and a few other things.  Nothing big.  Nothing crazy.  If something is from scratch like macaroni, then something else is from a can, like corn.  If we could afford it, we would get take out WAY more.  But we can't.  And that is why God made grilled cheese and tomato soup. 

I give the environment the finger and use the dishwasher almost every day.

I make things count.  Like, if Peter is sitting in the tub, I sit next to him like always but have a tub of chlorox wipes and wipe around what I can reach.

I drink coffee.  It's that or fall asleep while Peter shaves the cat and makes long distance phone calls.  I drink one cup in the morning and a splash later in what I call a Mommy Mocha.  A little coffee, a little sugar and then ovaltine to fill the  cup.  Peter and I are alone from 8 15 a.m. till 6 30 p.m. every day, and my husband is also back in school so figure Mr. gets about two hours a day with us and the rest he is at work or doing class work.  AWESOME!!!

As I get bigger I have had to change some things.  We used to go up to my Mom's more but since she is not able to chase Peter and  the house is not baby proofed it is exhausting to go there now.  I  made my official last trip there yesterday. 

Use your broom.  Seriously.  It's great for getting all the toys out from under the couch when you are too round to reach.  Peter also enjoys crayons, finger paint, and play doh.

Peter is very good about making many many trips to the bathroom with me, and I have things in there for him to play with.

I don't have much help.  And for all that my husband means it when he says "rest and I will take care of it", what he really means is rest and I will do what I always do and then wonder where dinner is and also why I have no clean underwear. Soooo while I can count on him to make dinner.  I can ALSO count on him to not clean up.  Or not clean up right.  By which I mean there will be grease all over the stove and a dirty pan in the oven and the garbage will be MASHED into the can and not taken out.

I try and be realistic about the fact that I am useless after 9 p.m.  Sometimes I fall asleep by 8 30 and then feel like I have no break from Peter because I get up when he does.

I have also noticed Hair Trigger Bitch Syndrome.  I found that on Rants from Mommyland.  Oh yes.  I have a MUCH shorter fuse this time around.  Either because having a toddler who thinks riding the cat and shaking the lamp and whipping electrical cords around like war hammers and throwing food and ETC and never napping is for every day and not just sometimes, or maybe I am more hormonal this time around.  Either way.  I had a few weeks where I ate bags of Lindor Balls and chocolate bars and many potato chips just to keep from losing my mind. 

The best way to deal with Hair Trigger Bitch syndrome is just to smash it down any way possible. A box of cookies? Better than yelling at your child.  A candy bar? Better than punching your husband in the nuts.  A new four pack of play-doh every week?  Not a DEAL BREAKER when it keeps your child happy for an entire half hour while you sit in a chair and pray for strength.

On Monday night ( I have some crazy second wind tonight and am feeling fine at ten p.m.) we switched Peter over to a big boy bed.  Not by choice.  He was hurling himself out of his crib-think of those paratroopers jumping out of a plane.  So, now I do not even have the illusion that he is safe while I shower, poop, or cook.  It has been a pretty horrid couple of days.  Peter is tired but does not want to nap and I can't MAKE him nap because he can get out of bed.  I am stressed and worried thinking about the fact that this is FOREVER and I will nevereverever again know he is at least safe in his crib while I
A. Clean up the horrible whatever.
B. Am taking the world's fastest shower after throwing dinner together.
C. Move the car because it is street sweeping day and otherwise I will get a ticket but Peter understandably does not enjoy getting put in his car seat for one minute while I drive the car across the street.
D. Lay down for five minutes while he looks at books because I am tired. 

I actually broke down crying tonight when Mr. got home because he was going on and on about how I was days away from my third trimester and I was just going to get MORE PREGNANT and I was going to have to deal with it and OF COURSE I am tired and OF COURSE Peter is active and so I started to ugly cry.  Then I started to laugh because I remembered how you asked me how I deal with being pregnant while caring for an active toddler.  The real answer is sometimes I deal fine and sometimes it is a crap storm of epic proportions.  Sometimes I wonder WHAT IN THE FUCK I was thinking when I wanted another baby.  Because I love Peter and he is about all I can handle most days.  I feel sad when I think that our time alone together is coming to a close.  We have so much fun( usually) and he is so wonderful-mostly- but even when he is naughty he is only 20 months old.  Sure he is going to be naughty sometimes. 

I think infertility adds another layer of awesome Mommy guilt onto being pregnant again.  With the first take home baby you feel guilty if you complain.  With the second one, you still feel guilty.  But you also feel guilt about having to divide your time and attention. Or at least I do.  I feel like neither Peter nor the baby I am carrying are getting 100%.  Sometimes I am so busy with Peter I realize I ate nothing but crap all day.  BAD FOR THE BABY.  Sometimes I am so tired from being pregnant that Peter watches Winnie the Pooh twice and eats hotdogs for lunch and dinner. BAD FOR PETER.   Sometimes I push myself to get the house semi-clean and make a healthy dinner and run errands and then I have contractions and have to lay down.  BAD FOR MOMMY. 

Where is the win?  It's somewhere in between home cooked meals and a messy house.  Somewhere near a movie for Peter while I put my feet up. I just do my best.  Or the best that I have in me that day. 

27 weeks.

Another week down.  13 weeks to go.  YOW.  ExcitingScary.  ScaryExciting.  Yesterday I crossed over from cute and pregnant to WHALE and now I am waddling everywhere. I felt like I had a watermelon between my legs when I was trying to change Peter's diaper tonight. I am having more trouble getting up off the couch and out of bed.  It makes the whole Sex Till The End thing seem less appealing. We managed to do it on ummm Friday morning.  No bleeding.  So that is good.

Probably we are going to hold off till 36 weeks and then we are going to go for it.  As far as I can tell from my very unscientific research sex is the only thing that seems to actually get labor going.  I am going to talk to my ob about it more when it is closer. 

I am tired.  WAY TIRED.

26 weeks

Happy to be here.  I saw my ob today. I gained five pounds in the last four weeks.  Ahem.  I blame Wegmans chocolate cream pie. NO REGRETS.  She was not unhappy with my weight so neither am I. 

Peter had a rocking tantrum when I tried to get him into the exam room.  And another when I tried to get him into his car seat to go home.  Being this pregnant and wrassling a toddler is...right. 

My appointments have switched to every two weeks so I go back December 12.  I also get the glucose tolerance test that day.  My sister is coming to sleep over the night before and will stay home with Peter so I can go get drunk off glucose without having to chase Peter.  THANK YOU.  I am kind of annoyed that I have to take the one hour test.  Why can't I just take the four hour and be done with it?  I would rather feel like shit just once and find a sitter for Peter just once than have to do it twice.  Because does anyone SERIOUSLY think I am not getting GD? 

I got all the stuff for the GD diet today.  Nuts, cheese, eggs to hard boil, I already had herbal tea.  I figure I had better get started since my blood sugar is getting to high normal.  My blood pressure was a little high today, but that could have been because of all the TODDLER TANTRUMS .  Jesus Wept. 

I talked to my ob about all things I have been worrying wondering about.
Q.  Do I have any chance of a vaginal delivery? Because I am so afraid of recovering from a c-section with two children to care for.
A. Well, if you want to try we can try.  But I will send in the paperwork for a scheduled c-section anyhow but put it right around your due date.  There is just no way to know what will happen. 
Q. Should we stop having sex because of the bleeding?
A. Only if you want to stop.  It's just because of how sensitive your cervix is. So if you have more sex, you will probably have more bleeding.
Q.  If I do go into labor, is it going to be faster because this is my second baby?
A.  NOPE.  It all depends on your first labor, and since you nevereverever dilated at ALL, this would be just like a first labor. 

I love my ob.  I saw her face when I said how afraid I was of trying to recover from a c-section while nursing and having Peter running around and I know she knows it would suck dirty goat balls.  So if there is any way to get #2 out the front door and not the escape hatch, she will try it.  On the other hand, at least if I don't go into labor I will not have 26 hours of torture and THEN major abdominal surgery.  And I will get a pretty baby instead of a mushed up one.  So what if that is reaching for the thinnest silver lining ever?  I have seen some pretty jacked up vag babies, with their noses all squished over.  And I will get super delicious drugs.  And what is most important is a healthy baby and a healthy me.  But I told Mr. that I want to try EVERY GODDAMN THING we can to start my labor.  I asked him tonight if he would mind doing it when I was nine months pregnant and he said we could try.  I am pretty sure neither of us will be interested in sex at that point, but if it means a natural delivery then we are going to try. 

Dear GD,

While you suck balls and I love cookies, I can TOTALLY HANDLE YOU. 

not EVEN scared,
celia

Dear High Blood Pressure,

You suck balls too, and I can't do anything about you and you are scary.  Soooooo please pass me by.   You will TOTALLY FUCK UP my plans for jump starting labor. 

super scared of you,
celia

Right.

Soooo Thanksgiving went ok.  If I were going to lay out the highlights( low lights?), I'd say Mr.'s cousin saying in front of 20+ people "I know what yoooooooooooou like to do in Juuuuuuuune" was obviously awesome.  Our son Peter was born in March and this baby is due 11 days before Peter's 2nd birthday.  So two March babies.  Yes, you are right.  my husband and I had sex in June at least twice.  Congratulations on your incredible grasp of the calendar.  The belly rubbers were there too.  I HATE YOU BELLY TOUCHERS.  STOP TOUCHING ME.  IF YOU WAIT, YOU CAN TOUCH THE ACTUAL BABY AND NOT ME. And what do you say to them?  Personally while I would like to be  the Julia Sugarbaker with a quick response and a pimp slap type, I actually just freeze up.  Sooooo here is my opinion, IF YOU DID NOT HELP PUT THE BABY IN THERE AND YOU ARE NOT HELPING GET THE BABY OUT OF THERE, DO NOT RUB THE PREGNANT WOMAN.  Do I sound irritable?  I guess it is because I had all this irritation at the random rubbing people( ok we are related on my husband's side but that does not mean you get to rub me like a goddamn magic lamp)that I could not do anything with, so I have just been carrying it around with me. 

And the Baby Police were there to tell me that I have to be careful or I will end up on bed rest again.  Thanks.  I have had three doctors tell me there is no way to avoid bed rest and that it will happen or it won't, but clearly because you were a secretary at an obstetrician's office I will ignore them and listen to you. 

Other than that, it was a nice day.  Stuffing, family, getting stuffed with family.  Nice. The next day I took Peter up to my sister's and that was nice too. Especially the pie. If you have not tried Wegman's chocolate cream pie, you need to.  BECAUSE IT IS AMAZEBALLS.  My sister is a trooper and does not blink when Peter carries black playdoh around her very pink house.  Personally, I would not let him do that but she is fine with it.  She spoils him terribly.  But that is ok, everyone needs someone who thinks they can do no wrong and that cookies are just as important as vegetables and buys them totally frivolous crap just because.  And so Peter has his Auntie.

We let Peter watch the Macy's parade but I don't think I will let him watch next year.  It was not as awesome as I remembered. 

Then it was today.  We picked up the Christmas pictures and Peter had a meltdown in the mall because this little boy had a truck and ALL TRUCKS ARE HIS.

I was exhausted and bitchy crabby, for most of today.  This morning we shared the marital embrace.

Ahem.  Sorry, I am just saying because then later on I had some spotting and then it went away and came back a few hours later.  My ob said not to worry. I trust her, so I am not worrying much. I have my 26 week appointment on Monday so I just have to keep my shit together till then.  At this point, sex is ok but mostly I want to keep going with it because if we stop then that is it for maybe five months.  I think Mr. went without for seven months with Peter.  Which is fine but you know, that is a long time. 

I wish I was not so irritable. God.  I swear I am usually pleasant.

Holiday pictures. Next time we'll photoshop.

First I would like to share a quote from an email my sister just sent me.

"did you really curse in the mall? don't be like walmart people. Why didn't you have the stroller? did you notice you're way more cranky?"  Yes.  I did curse in the mall.  I looked much prettier than your average Wal-Mart shopper at that given moment.  I did not have the stroller BECAUSE I JUST DIDN'T and if you can keep Peter in his stroller more power to YOU.  Yes, I am more cranky than normal. Thanks for noticing. 

We have made it to week 25, 15 weeks to go till D-Day.  I was thinking yesterday that if you said to someone that you were going to the Bahamas in 15 weeks they would be like...who cares?  That's a long way off.  But when I think 15 weeks till we go from three to four, I think of a list of chores and how the longer it takes to finish them the bigger I will be and the harder it will be to finish.  And I think about laundry and cleaning and cooking and putting the nursery together and Christmas and Peter's birthday being 11 days after my due date and 15 weeks does not seem very long at all.  It seems really, REALLY close.   You know what else seems close? 29 weeks.  At 29 weeks when I was pregnant with Peter I went on bedrest.  That's the week before Christmas.

Mr. is adamant that I rest and take it easy and etc etc , but how is that even possible? I have Peter.   When he is not climbing everything we own he is riding the cat or swinging his truck like a war hammer.  I have been keeping an eye on my blood sugar and it is not terrible.  But both my ob and the high risk dr. said there is really nothing I can do to avoid bed rest and that either it will happen or it won't.  NO PRESSURE THERE.  Mr. and I discussed it long ago and set Christmas as our deadline to be ready for the baby.  Umm?  Well, kind of?  I mean the nursery just needs a new crib and a dresser and the baby clothes have to get re-washed and put away but that is not too bad.  I feel a little bit..doomed.  Like, doomed to bedrest with a toddler who will watch Winne the Pooh seven times a day while living off milk, yogurt, and fig newtons while I either feel guilty about not playing with him or guilty about not resting.

So I am a heady mix of thrilled to be pregnant and getting close to nuts about the THIRD TRIMESTER OF DOOM.  And yeah, I am a bit crankier THANKS.

This weekend we made progress on Christmas and made 10 jars of fig jam.  That was supposed to be it but Mr. decided to make cranberry mustard yesterday.  I was unthrilled.  Yesterday we needed to clean, do three loads of laundry, drive an hour each way to pick up my car that was at my sisters, buy Peter new pajamas and mittens, and supposedly go grocery shopping, and get our Holiday Family Photo taken at 5 15.  Soooooo, not the best day for a kitchen project.

 I lost my mind chasing Peter while Mr. made mustard and it involved awesome things like strawberry yogurt falling on our hardwood floor and Peter refusing to get ready and doing the alligator death roll while I tried to change his diaper and a headache and just general insanity.  We got out the door a half hour late and I self-medicated with a giant cookie and a half decaf coffee.   Then we got to my sisters and Peter ran amuck and had a fine time while we choked down lunch and left a half hour late ( Mom- "Don't forget to take your car!"  Thanks Mom, I'm pretty sure I can remember an ENTIRE CAR.) Then we raced home so we could get ready in TWENTY FIVE MINUTES so we could go to the mall and take our Happy Holiday Picture.  Which meant 25 minutes for Peter's bath and Mr.'s shower and then Mr.  and his whole what should I wear???!!!.  You know Boo, I love you but I told you more than once to pick out something AHEAD OF TIME.

Then we got to JC Penney's and even though we had an appointment, the place was packed like the DMV and we waited for 45 minutes while Peter rapidly spiraled from happy toddler with milk to CRABBY TODDLER TRAPPED IN JC PENNEY'S.  Mr. decided he was unhappy with his sweater, please imagine how I was ready to kill him a little bit because how is one argyle sweater different from another? Who cares?  NO ONE IS LOOKING AT YOUR SWEATER AND NOTICING HOW THE GRAY IS CLEARLY A BETTER CHOICE THAN THE NAVY.

While Mr. was off looking at sweaters Peter was racing through the store trying to burn off all his energy and touch everything and LOOK AT THE TREES AND THE GLASS ORNAMENTS AND SANTA AND NOW I AM UNDER THE TREE WHY CAN'T I HAVE THE GLASS ORNAMENTS AND NOOOOOOOOOOOO MOMMMMMMEEEEEEEYYYYYYY I WANT THE TREEEEEEEEESSSSSSSS and I had a hold of his little arm while he wiggled and pulled and tried his damnedest to  lacerate himself on some shattered ornaments.  So yeah, I was the Mom saying "dammitall Peter, stop it!" and everyone was watching us and probably thinking I was the best. mom. ever.

Soooo it was finally time to take our Happy Holiday Family Photos and none of us were all that happy.  Peter was not in any kind of mood to sit or stand and the nice lady just kept inflaming him by shaking toys at him to try and get him to smile.  All she did was incite him to fury because he wanted her toys.  I was squished into a pair of non-maternity pantyhose and at any given moment either my underwear or my pantyhose or BOTH were falling down.

We did end up choosing something, and so that is done.  But perhaps next year we can just find some families picture online and photoshop ourselves into it.  Or perhaps next year I will send my sister with Peter to the mall and then ask her why she is cranky when she gets back. 

I will never, EVER look back on today and laugh.

I am recording today so that if I think getting pregnant again is a swell idea, someone can be like..
" REMEMBER THAT DAY?" and they mean today and then I pour myself a bottle of wine.

Sooo, I have been trying to really scale back and do less so that I can focus on Peter and my own health.  AKA, I don't pick up Peter's toys at the end of the day and we are eating "semi- home made" dinners, and Winnie the Pooh on dvd is also happening.  Except the Heffalumps, they are creepy.

Soooo it's been rainy and we have been trapped inside.  Today we had two errands.  To go to the Amish Market and to go to the grocery store and buy a few odds and ends so Mr. and I can finish up our Christmas jams this weekend.  Not a big deal, right?  OHHHHHH THE BIGGEST DEAL.

So, at the grocery store we are wandering around getting stuff and I am all excited because YUM JAM, and unlike while pregnant with Peter when my biggest urge was to eat chips and dip, this time around I want to bake and preserve and make lists and etc etc NEST AND NEST AND POLISH THINGS AND CROSS THEM OFF MY MULTIPLE LISTS.  Anyway there we were and I starting getting cramps, like period cramps at the bottom of my stomach.  Kind of around where my c-section scar is.  They were exactly like moderately painful period cramps and I was walking very slowly around the store trying to figure out what to do.  Well, OBVIOUSLY panic.  But besides that.

So I got myself to the car and left a message for the ob and called Mr. at work to warn him that the crap might be hitting the fan.  I drank a bunch of water and went home and tried to be calm and not cry.  I figured if we needed to go the hospital there was no point in putting Peter down for nap( OF COURSE IT WAS NAP TIME, DUH.) if I was just going to have to wake him up and drag him to the hospital.  Soooo we watched Winnie the Pooh while I waited for the phone to ring.  Peter ate his lunch.  I played on F.a.cebo.ok to distract myself.  Which would have been great if it was not World Prematurity Day, and my poor friend posted a picture of her baby born at 23 weeks, who lived for a bit and then died.  That was about as awesome as you can imagine.

Then my ob called back ( I love her so hard) and she said that while they would prefer no contractions (ME TOO), unless I have more than four in an hour for longer than 45 seconds at a time it should be ok.  She said she was not as worried about me since they could not even induce me with Peter and I had to have a c-section.  Ummmmm thank you Fort Knox cervix?  She said right around now is when they start and that with her third baby she had them all the time.  AWESOME.  Anyhow that was a relief.  I called Mr. and he said no more errands for me and that he would do them all and that I was just going to have to be a pampered princess for the next 16 weeks, and that he was going to buy me an enormous recliner with a foot stool so I could relax as much as possible while Peter destroys what is left of our home.

Soooo Mischief Managed, right?  NOOOOOO.
Insane Day Part Deux

I take Peter who is at that point so sleepy he is actually climbing in my lap as opposed to his normal RUNNING AMUCK upstairs for his nap.  We get in the chair and I pick out a very short story and he is fighting to keep his eyes open.  On the last page of the story, HE THREW UP ALL THE THROW UP IN THE WORLD.  On him, on me, on the chair, on the floor.  Everywhere.  For a moment we just look at each other as the pungent smell of yogurt/ovaltine/goldfish swirls around us.

I push panic aside.  Sort of.   First I stripped us both naked to avoid getting barf dripped around the house.  Then I wiped his hands off.  Then I dragged him to the bathroom while I took a prison shower to get the barf off me while holding on to Peter with one hand.  Then I start to fill Peter's tub.  Peter breaks free and runs to our bedroom to play with electrical cords and the alarm clock.  I drag him back out.  He runs to his room, and I try and decide what to do about the pukey area rug.

I put Peter in his crib so I can deal with the rug. It's pretty light and so is the crib so I felt safe moving it out of the room so that the room smelled less like the aftermath of a frat party or some bad Chinese food.  Peter thought that was very exciting and was hanging/standing/climbing on the edge of his crib.  He thought it was hilarious when I shouted at him to stop.  All I could picture was Peter falling out of his crib and landing on the hardwood and then having to call an ambulance or take him to the ER except we were both NAKED and how I would probably go into labor just from the stress AND AWESOME.

So with the rug dragged into the hall with our puke covered clothes, I get the extra hall rug and put it in front of his crib, Peter helps me by jumping on the rug and tripping on it face first and crying. EXCELLENT, he landed right on the spot he slammed into the coffee table this weekend.  Sorry sweetheart.  Mommy wants to cry too.

Then I tell him "Time for tubby!" and he runs with his stuffed animal to the bathroom while I race behind him put not fast enough and Mr. Puppy takes a bath.  I take out Mr. Puppy( FINE, Walter the Farting Dog) and toss him dripping into our bedroom, Peter goes after him and whacks himself in the FACE with the bathroom doorknob. 

I get him in and out of the tub and dressed.  He is asleep.  I am eating two pounds of leftover spaghetti( FINE, and some stale Cheetos), my hand still smells a bit like barf and I don't care.  Holy Mary Mother of GOD.

Daddy gets home in three and a half hours.

Christ have mercy.

Peter was fine today.  Pre-pregnancy I would have called this an awesome, average, super fun day.  We took a walk, we went on errands, we snuggled and read stories, Peter scampered around the neighbors yards with the little girl across the street.  We had take out for dinner. 

However. 

Peter's first super short walk around the block involved me lurching after him to keep him out of the street and panting to keep up with him.  I feel so guilty when I can't let him run, or even take the same walks we used to take.  The errands were difficult, in that Peter is VERY uninterested in being in a stroller and VERY interested in exploring.  By the time we got home I fed him lunch and put him down for nap.  But I still had dishes to do and the dishwasher to unload and a car full of groceries to unpack and the garbage needed to go out and there were two loads of laundry to get put away.  And yeah.  I could have let everything sit.  But for how long? Forever?  Till Ali.ce from the Br.ady B.un.ch comes to fix everything?  Ugh.  I feel like I can either rest while Peter naps and then have the house look like a shitstorm till Peter goes to bed( and honestly I have about a half hour in me at the end of the night which is NOT long enough to do everything) or I can get stuff done and then be exhausted. 

I mean, it is super easy to say "leave the housework" but leave it till when?  Till I am less pregnant?  Till my husband gets home at ten o'clock( he has bowling once a week)?Till we put Peter to bed and my husband has a good two hours of classwork ahead of him?  Till 7 a.m. the next morning when I have energy but only a limited amount of time?  Just getting take out is an ordeal.  Which sounds spoiled, but it's kind of like hot potato, juggling take out and Peter and the stroller.  And having Peter playing with the girl across the street meant I was chasing him up and down the block because he does not get it that you can't run too close to the edge or you will fall off the lawns here. The lawns here are not level with the sidewalk and are about 8 inches off the pavement.  Usually with cement retaining walls.  I let him fall sometimes to get a little hurt so he can learn to be careful but so far he has not learned a damn thing  He just rips face first through life, having the best time ever.  Which is fantastic, except for the part where he has no concept of self preservation.

 Peter is so wonderful and sweet and funny and just wants something he totally could have had a month ago.  Or even two weeks ago.  I do not like having to choose between what is best for me and the baby and what is best for Peter.

24 weeks!

Hooray for us!  We are very excited.  This week was jam packed with problems.

Tuesday I went and got my hair cut.  It was atrocious and my husband said I looked LIKE HIS MOM. 

Friday I begged my sister to come down and watch Peter so I could get my hair fixed.  It is now less of a trainwreck and I am not depressed every time I walk past a mirror.

Saturday morning I was so happy not to feel ugly anymore that Mr. and I did the deed and then I had some bleeding.  But no cramping.  I spent the morning on Vagina Watch while trying to get the house ready for company.  It was not terribly scary because I figured we had had some bleeding after sex in the first trimester too and that was ok. But it was not fun either and the idea of having to go to the hospital for monitoring either alone or with Peter was not attractive.  I mean, going to the ER always sucks, but I am guessing that going while toting your active child sucks MORE. 

Then that night during an otherwise awesome visit with our friends Peter tripped on NOTHING and ran into our padded coffee table and it was pretty bloody.  Red was just our theme that day.  Ugh.  But Peter's ped. says that he should be fine. 

Sunday I was completely exhausted all day and took two naps and then went to bed at 9 30.  Oh man.  This baby is kicking my ass. 

But today is nice and quiet and I managed to clean the kitchen and eat lunch and am gonna have some coffee since while I am tired I am also wired and I don't think I could sleep right now.  My next appointment is in two weeks. 

Getting there

Oh yeah.  The point I have been dreading for 23 and a half weeks is closing in on me like Darth Vader swooping down a hallway.  Exhaustion.  Exhaustion + toddler = Falling asleep by 9 30 p.m., fully dressed and sitting up on the couch.  I am beyond thankful that Christmas prep is well under way and that Mr. is demanding I tone my whole Holiday Thing down by many, many notches.

But you know, we knew it was coming and for the most part I feel great. Yesterday we walked for an hour and then later for half and hour and that was too much.  Peter was so happy crunching through the leaves and looking at the full moon.  I did not have the heart to go home.  My cankles made me pay later.  Mr. said last night that I am completely different person this time and it is true.  I was so afraid all the time with Peter.  Having the daily pokings and proddings are a constant reminder that everything is fine. Had I realized what a huge difference it would make in my peace of mind I would have gotten a home doppler with Peter.  At this point in my pregnancy with him I was just about to think I was feeling something.  I have to say this blog has been a great resource since i can go back and look at how I felt and what was coming.  I saw that Thanksgiving weekend with Peter I did too much and had contractions, so I know to make sure to take it slow NOW since I am two weeks ahead of where I was with Peter. 

We have had some sitcom-y type happenings, in that Peter thinks it is hilarious to squeeze under the bed and I can't reach him and he stays there and laughs while I slooooooowly scootch down between the bed and the wall to grab that little stinkers feet and haul him out.  He is starting to be able to outrun me now too.  Which is sad because it limits where I can take him safely. We are having short walks with him on foot and then a longer one with him in the stroller. Depending on where the baby is, sometimes I can tie my shoes and sometimes I can't. 

We both feel that Peter has had some kind of developmental jump and he is having so much more imaginary play now, as well as solitary play.  So much that I am actually considering crocheting so that I can sit on the couch while he plays trucks.  Getting him to entertain himself has been a HUGE goal of mine.  Our mini goal of him being able to get down the stairs alone( with us in front just in case) is going swell and he is also helping dress himself.  He has slowly been adding a few more words to his vocabulary.   He grew a whole inch since his 18 month appointment and I'm sure has put a little weight on. 

I really have to go clean the kitchen but I am just sitting here resting. 

23 weeks

17 to go!  Yikes!  It seems both a long way away and scarily soon.  We had a very nice weekend.  I baked and we rearranged the living room and we had a goodbye dinner with my parents because they are moving to North Carolina this week.  Which I think is moronic, but it's not like it is my decision.  Go.vernor Ch.ris Chri.stie is depriving my babies of their grandparents with his insane taxes.  Hopefully the asshole will infarct soon.  Though it's too late for us since my parents have already sold their home.

We saw MIL yesterday.  She was herself.  Please insert the longest sigh ever.  It was the best visit we have had in a long time but I am pretty damn sick of her and I don't think that will change.  She is FOREVER treating me like an incubator put on this Earth to churn out more of her Glorious Piney Genes.  Bitch.  Everything Peter does is because he is her grandson.  It's creepy.  He's his own person. Plus it is FUCKING ANNOYING to hear every single thing he does being ascribed to their genetic contribution.  She makes me feel like a dog they are breeding.  My husband sometimes reads this blog, I hope he skips this one because I complain about his Mom a lot.  BECAUSE SHE IS A PAIN IN MY FAT ASS.  And really I think much like in divorce where even a persons breathing begins to annoy you, I think that I will not be able to get past how I feel about her and ever actually be comfortable around her again. Which is a shame because she is good with Peter.  I would not leave Peter alone with her, but he enjoys her company.   But then, he enjoys a lot of peoples company and MIL is just one of those people.

I have had a really short temper this weekend, which I think is somewhat self evident.  Poor AYM called me today when I was all ranty and she got a big cup of angry tea.  Usually I am pretty happy but I think the hormones are starting to get to me. 

I cannot believe how angry I sound.  RESPECT for the pregnancy hormones.  I think I am going to have to keep some emergency chips with me till March.

Tuesday was awesome.

We had a lovely, lovely day on Tuesday.  Peter played so nicely and was very happy, we went and ran errands and went to the library and Peter played hide and seek in his quilt rack, then we visited our neighbors and she came over for dinner.  It was such a nice day and he was so happy that I let him stay up an hour past his bedtime.

And it was good that Tuesday was nice because I woke up on Wednesday with The Big D( I got that from Amanda and it cracks me up every time.  So Mr. had to stay home.  It was pretty funny because Mr. has never spent more than an hour or so alone with Peter before.  It went well, just the normal toddler disasters of spilled coffee and near death/broken something falls.  I am freaking beat down today but Mr. had to go back to work since I was well enough to function.  Peter is napping and I am eating chips and dip because I am hungry but too tired to fix food.  I'll go get something soon. Ugh. 

On a lighter note, Mr. said the baby kicked the crap out of me. ahahhahaaaa

22 weeks, BOO!

 I am  delirious with exhaustion.  We were up at 8, out the door by 9 30, OB appointment at 10 30,  let Peter take his million lap walk around the ob's office( he loves that we do it every time) home by 12 30,  ( yes, he  ran around outside the office for THAT LONG, imma die) Mom and Rosie were here by 1, I cooked and cleaned while Peter napped.  We went trick or treating after he got up, we handed out candy and then had dinner.  And then cleaned up and put Peter to bed and then it was 8 30 and I have not moved from this couch for a whole hour. 

My OB is very happy with my weight gain, 8-9 pounds so far, my blood pressure, and my blood sugar.

We both agreed that this pregnancy has been easier so far.  Mostly because I can feel the baby move and so am not constantly afraid.

OMG.  Time for bed.


*I came back.  Because I had to share the hilariously passive aggressive thing Mom said today.  Normally I try and give them dinner early because my Mom acts like the PA/NJ border will close if they leave after 4 30.  Anyhow, what with Peter's late nap, and cooking( shepherd's pie and pineapple upside down cake) and tidying and setting the table and trick or treating ETC, we did not have dinner till 6 30.  So I said I was sorry and that I knew she liked to leave earlier and then my sister said 'yes, Mom I am surprised you are not  complaining too" and Mom said " Well I know we are celebrating Halloween and Peter is trick or treating, and we are also celebrating my birthday and so I will save my complaining till later." And she was not being ironic.  TA DA!  That's my Mom.

What a cock up. Or how to make beef stew and monitor your blood sugar in 20 easy steps.

Jesus Christ.  If I do get gestational diabetes am I so fucked.  I started monitoring my blood sugar a few days ago to see if I need to worry yet.  I can take the fasting blood sugar no problem, and the one after dinner no problem. Because hello, my husband is home.  But everything else has been somewhat disastrous.

Yesterday I brought the kit with me to take it at the grocery store but I forgot, and then I started to get shaky by the time we had checked out and got to the car.  I got Peter into his carseat and my blood sugar was 74, maybe 2 and a half hours after I ate breakfast.  I felt awful.  I had a truffle in my purse so I ate that and felt a little better, but I still had to get Peter home, unpack the car, feed him and get him to nap.  Then I had to eat.  Then I rested for a bit because I felt like crap.  I started dinner and got as far as browning the stew meat and chopping the onions when Peter woke up furious and also after only about an hour( after waking up at 6 30 a.m.) and sooooo I brought him downstairs where he had a 45 minute tantrum of epicness.  At some time during that point I should have tested my blood sugar.  Obviously that did not happen.  Then it took me about two hours to peel and cut the carrots and peel and cut the potatoes.  Freaking FOUR carrots and FOUR potatoes but Peter was not behaving and I could not leave him alone. 

I was completely worn out and so put on a farm show on Net.F.lix to distract him while I cleaned out the sink before the potato peels got all nasty.  Peter was so excited by the farm show that he kept trying to climb into the tv.  So it was not as restful as I had hoped. By this time it was a quarter to six and I was pretty sure dinner was not going to be ready on time.  Soooooo Mr and I conferred and ordered take out while the delicious scent of stew dic.k tea.sed us. 

Peter would not eat, and  had another tantrum at the table and then while Mr. and I tried to eat, Peter tried to climb the living room walls.  Then it was thankfully, blessedly bedtime. 

Today was somewhat easier and Peter slept till seven, ( I hear him awake now and he has only been napping freaking half an hour OMG I still have laundry and dishes and etc PLEASE BABY, PLEASE GO BACK TO SLEEP) and I set the stove timer to remind me when to check my b/s.  I was only a bit off.  Then we went for a walk.  No snack.  I should have because I was all shaky again by noon when I was attempting to feed Peter lunch. I say attempting because he hates to eat real food.  And really if I have a small snack while feeding him and then my real lunch after I put him down, when do I take my b/s?  From the small snack?  From lunch?  Will I be chasing Mr. Cranky at testing time anyhow so it does not matter? 


Uggggghhhhhh. 

This weekend we are doing some Christmas shopping, and it will be our only in person shopping this season.  Everything else will be online.   I need drugs.  AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

21 weeks

Yowie.  The baby is moving every day and it makes me so happy.  I cannot begin to compare the difference between this pregnancy and my pregnancy with Peter.  It is very reassuring to know at least a few times a day that everything is fine. 

We have another batch of apple butter on the stove and this coming weekend( we decided only to can on the weekends) I am making carrot cake jam.  It sounds AWESOME.  It has carrots, pears, and pineapple in it and the spices you would use in carrot cake.  Then the week after we are making either a cranberry mustard or ketchup depending on how much cranberries cost in November.  And then pear-ginger jam and lastly blood orange marmalade.  If I can find them.  Otherwise I might make a citrus blend with grapefruit and clementine and naval oranges.  But I really want the last two because the colors will be so pretty.  So far everything we have made is brown.  Tasty, but brown.  We are leaning to making everyone gift baskets with the jams and stuff and spiced nuts.  Yum yum. 

I am really enjoying canning, I think it is partially me and partially a pregnancy thing.  I never did any nesting at all with Peter, but maybe that has something to do with it.  I love choosing the recipe and shopping for the ingredients and cooking it and using the food mill and then canning it is interesting too.  And then you have the fun of looking at everything you made. 

We told Mom yesterday.  We stopped at BRU and got Peter a Big Brother shirt and of course Mom did not notice so we had to tell her to look at his shirt.  She asked" Why is Peter wearing a big brother shirt?"
 That's my mom.
And she immediately got on my nerves too.  Mr. and I were talking about it on the way home because I snapped at her twice.  She asked me "how do you feel?" three times in four hours. Which certainly sounds innocuous when I type it out but we agree that her tone sounds dire/pitying and she seems ever so slightly let down when I reply that I feel fine. I actually felt tired, but if you tell her that it feeds into it.  After the third time, followed by her saying well of course I must have had miserable morning sickness( nope) and are they monitoring me Very Closely??? I snapped that I did not have cancer.  And then Mr. told her that he treats me exactly as if I were not pregnant because anything else irritates me.

Which is mostly true.  If I need help I ask for it and if I am too tired to do something I tell him. But I don't mind other people asking me how I feel because when they ask it is just a question.  When Mom asks, it is so laden with subtext that you could choke.  But at least telling her is done.  Yuck.  I think I could have hidden it a bit longer, but it really depends because my body looks more or less pregnant depending on the time of day and where the baby is.  Mainly I needed Mr. there because I could not stand the idea of telling her or having her figure it out(unlikely) alone and having no one to deflect her smothering away from me.  Plus she made me crazy by already saying that when I am pregnant I am crabby.  No.  I am just less tolerant of your bullshit.  I am ALWAYS as aggravated by it, but when not pregnant I can hide it better. 

Anyhow, Mom is annoying yadda yadda.  This is a really disjointed post because I get up every two or three sentences to stir the apple butter. 

It's my birthday this week, I will be 37.  Mom and my sister are coming for lunch and my Dad and stepmom are coming for dinner.  Which is nice.  Peter will be so excited.  As berserk as Mom can make me, Peter loves her and she loves him.  ( Side note- when we were visiting them on Saturday Mom complained that Peter was ignoring her.)

Speaking of being older and decrepit, my sister asked on Saturday if the baby factory was closed.  I did not say anything and Mr. said he was not sure.  He said it would all depend on what happened with this one.  If the third trimester is very difficult with a c-section than most likely we are done because it would be too hard to do it a third time with two children at home.

We have talked about it some, and though I am most concerned about my age ( best case scenario I would be 40) he is more worried about money and a bigger car and would we need to move and then the whole I am old, OLD, OLD thing. 

So on the way home I told him that it was completely up to him and that he would be the one deciding all by himself.  Because I am thrilled at the miracle of a second child and would love a third, something I was certain was beyond our reach.  We agreed that we would not use an RE.  I told him that while it would suck that I might not be around after the last child hit forty ( because my family is FULL OF THE CANCER and it makes sense to be realistic) I told him that probably no one wishes they had never been born just because their parents are older than most or because their Mom passed away when they were 45.  But no matter what I told him it would be 100% his choice because I did not ever want him to feel that I had pushed him into such a huge decision.  And that my big fear was that if we did have a third child and something went wrong that he would blame me.  He said he would never do that, but you can't help what you feel. 

And so  that is the last I am going to bring it up to him till I suppose this baby is weaned and getting pregnant becomes a possibility and then we will have to choose a birth control(  the idea that we might need b.c. always makes me laugh).  Struck by lightening twice?  Riiiiiiiiiight.  So all we have decided is that we have not decided. 

I love our life, but I hate that infertility made choosing our family's size a bigger deal than it is for most people.

It's beginning to look a lot like Christmas

True story.  We figure I will be big and cranky by December- best case scenario.  Worst case being bed rest.  Either way, not a very jolly place to be when you have a lot to do.  I recall (and Mr. VIVIDLY recalls) what it was like trying to cook and bake and clean and shop for Christmas while pregnant with Peter.  Exhausting.  SO hard.  Sooooo we have started pecking away at our Christmas stuff. 

We are canning this year instead of making pineapple vodka or fudge. So far we have made 8 jars of apple butter and as we speak I have about 8 jars of peach/mango ketchup cooking away on the stove top.  We are also making  8 jars of cranberry ketchup, 8 of orange marmalade and 8 more apple butter( Saturday night), 9 of pear ginger jam, and 4 of one that is super intriguing and called carrot cake jam.  It has pineapple in it.  I am only making a little of the carrot cake jam because I figure not everyone will want to try it though I think it would be great over baked brie or or as a cake filling.  I hope everyone likes the stuff we are making.  It is great because we will be able to have it all made by the end of November before I get too unwieldy. 

The other awesome thing about canning is that since I did not choose expensive things like apricots or raspberries, it is much cheaper than making fudge or heaven help us, vodka. Next year should be even better since we will have our own strawberries and should have enough to make jam.  It takes a lot of time, but we have that.  Sort of.  I mean it isn't a picnic to stay up this late and cook but since we are canning no more than one or two things a week it is not awful. 
I am still going to make sugar cookies and rugelach and some quick breads, but not our usual holiday craziness.  I can make the cookie dough and the rugelach dough ahead in November and then even make the rugelach and bake them as needed. They are a huge HUGE pain in the ass to make and take a long time and make a big mess, but they taste amazing.  And I can decorate the sugar cookies sitting down.  Once we finish the canning I will start the cookie dough.

All our shopping is going to be online this year, except when we go to the Sugarloaf Craft Festival at the end of this month.  I am ordering a lot of stuff from Etsy this year because someone I know has a shop and makes very nice things( she is linked at the top of my blog- I am ordering bags) and I am looking forward to supporting her while getting cute things for my friends and family. 

It is a quarter to 12, I hope we can be finished before one a.m.  I thought this recipe would go faster than the apple butter but I had enough ingredients to make a double batch (initially I was only going to make four jars and just keep it for us since it is supposed to be popular with kids and I hoped Peter might eat chicken or something if he can dip them in this) and so it took longer to chop and cook and FOREVER to puree, I had to first put it through the food mill and then through a fine mesh sieve because tomato seeds are GROSS.  Ick. Seeds. 

And the winner is

Team Blue!  Peter will have a little brother in March.  We are very excited though we both admit to a slight wistfulness about how a girl would have been nice.  But I know we would have felt that either way, and really all we actually care about is that the baby looks healthy.  I talked about it more with the doctor, and he said the odds of Down Syndrome or the other one( I forget the other) is 1/6000 so that is great.  I do think a brother will be much more fun for Peter and am trying to get my husband to call me Queen of the Sausages.  In fact, the high risk dr said everything looks so good that unless my blood pressure or GD comes back I won't have to go to their office again. 


Are we taking bets on my GD coming back?  Because hello, I am assuming it will.  The scan took a long time and Peter had to go out to the hallway with Daddy for a while to run amuck.  We had poor Peter up at 7 a.m. and out the door by 7 15. That is not far off from his usual wake time, but I think he was still tired.   He was in a fine state by naptime.  Hopefully he will take a long nap and wake up happy.  Or at least less miserable.  The baby was really high up, right below my rib cage. I told the u/s tech that I thought my uterus was supposed to be just level with my belly button now but she said it can be different with your second baby.  The great news is that my placenta is at the top of my uterus, and so hopefully the baby will use the front door and not the window to come out.

I am way stoked to be dodging a second baby shower, which I feel would be really tacky since I had a huge one for Peter not too long ago.  I have to go move the car, it's two feet from the curb because Peter was crying too loudly for me to concentrate when we got home. 

20 weeks.

Tomorrow we are HALF BAKED!  It is very exciting.  And Wednesday is our big ultrasound.  Oh little person, we can not WAIT to see you!

It  should be somewhat of a  circus, in that we have no one to watch Peter so we will have him up and out the door by 7 15 and then he will have to be there with us.  He was pretty good at the 12 week ultrasound, and did not get crazy till the end. 

I can't believe we have made it this far.  I am going to have some cereal and go to bed.  Last night I fell asleep sitting on the couch playing on FB. 

It feels like December 22 and we are jumping around waiting for Santa.

It went ok

Mom was not that mom-like.  I mean, she turned down the lunch I had preplanned and made two phone calls and three emails about and she pouted because Peter would not do all the dancing and animal sounds she wanted.  Soooo I told her he was not a trained dog.  But really on a mom-scale it was very calm. 

They had a good time and Peter was sorry when they left.  I was happy, because I was tired of pretending not to be pregnant.  Mom cast a few suspicious glances at me, but since I purposely chose a very unflattering shirt she might have just been thinking that I looked WAY DUMPY.  And I so did.  But Mission Averted!  My sister asked me if I was going to tell Mom that day and I breathed Fire Onto Her and said NO.  She can wait till after the gender scan.

Peter was up six times last night between 9 30 and 6 30 .  Awesome.  On the plus side, I'd be up that often to pee anyway.  We think he is constipated, but the suppository we gave him this morning did not work.  Hopefully the cider and miralax I just gave him will.  Otherwise I am gonna have to go to the store and get an enema.  I don't even know how to use one of those.  But he has been trying to poop for two days and it has been...not that productive.  I suppose I could pick up some corn today.  He would not eat his carrots last night.

19 weeks

Wow.  I do feel some movement every day and I am so thankful for it.  We have just ten more days to go till the next ultrasound.  We are very excited about it.  We have two front runners for names, and now that I feel the baby move a few times a day- usually at night, I am not so filled with fear.  There is still fear, kind of on the edges but it isn't how it was with Peter. 

The big black cloud on the horizon is LITERALLY on the horizon, Mom is coming over tomorrow.  Which means that it is better than likely that she will notice something.  I spelled it out VERY CLEARLY to my sister tonight that she was not to drop hints or anyfuckingthing.  My hope is that Mom will be too self involved to notice.  That way Mr. and I can tell her together after the big ultrasound on the 19th.  Not that I'll want to tell her then either, but at least I'll have gotten through half the pregnancy without her nagging. 

I am not looking forward to it.  Not one little bit.  Well, except for the part where I can wear maternity clothes all the time instead of wearing the dumpiest thing I can find to hide the baby from her.  SHE IS NOT TOUCHING ME. 

*A very special note to people with uncrazy mothers:

I'm sorry that you have no idea how to process this.  Hopefully you have been reading my blog long enough to be familiar with my Mother and perhaps it has made you appreciate your uncrazy mother more.  Yes, it's true that some people actually dislike their mothers.  HI.  My mom is a self centered, narcissistic, loon and she loves me in her own way and thinks we have a good relationship.  Which I am fine with.  But I won't pretend here.  I love her, but I do not like her, and she is more of a burden and a responsibility to me than anything else.  Occasionally I can enjoy time with her, but mostly I am stress eating and snapping at her passive aggressive/low self esteem/black hole of emotional needs. 

Dear Baby of the Future,

I'm sorry your 19 week post sounds so weird.  Your Grandma loved you, but made me batshit crazy.  I promise you'll never feel quite the same way about me and that the worst I will ever to do you is sing loudly in front of your friends. Unless the YMCA is playing, in which case I will also dance.

love,

mama

Check up

I had my ob appointment today.  I have gained five pounds total so far, which is pretty good considering I have been eating and eating and EATING.  Last night I had dinner, and then a bowl of cereal and THEN a tomato sandwich.  And I was still hungry. 

My blood pressure was good, and the baby sounded good.  My poor ob's( there are two in the practice) son was sick so we were waiting over an hour for our appointment.  Peter was really good, but got understandably crabby. He has only been taking 45 minute naps each day and is up from 7 a.m. till 8 p.m.  I am a tired woman. 

I was given the ok to go to my parents new house as long as we stop every two hours for me to walk around.  I described this weird thing I have been feeling and the ob said it was contractions but not to worry about it unless it does not stop.  She said it is normal with all the activity I am getting and with lifting Peter. She said she wants me to keep getting all this exercise.  Then she said I would just feel them more and more. 

When we take our walks, and especially if I have to carry Peter or pick him up my uterus feels like it turns into a hard ball, it's weird.

Anyhow, I have to go because Peter is OF COURSE, awake.  I tried to get him to nap after our appointment since I know he is exhausted but he is not having it.  So I am sure he will be in a stellar mood for the rest of the day.  My next appointment is on Halloween.

I know

I know it is the baby moving.  I know it.  It's so comforting. And relaxing. I did not feel Peter move even a little till I was a month more pregnant than now.   It's wonderful. We're going to bed.

18 weeks

Holy Bananas!  I can't really believe it but tomorrow marks two weeks to half baked.  We still have not told Mom or in fact many people.  My neighbor that knows told me yesterday that I only have a few days left before I can't hide it anymore.  I would happily let everyone find out in a birth announcement if I could.  Except then I would create a huge mess of hurt feelings. And while I don't really care about that, I do care that I would have to listen to people go "blah blah blah" about it.   How about my feelings? Even if they are irrational, they are still mine. (I feel like that sounds selfish and whiny, but if I can't be selfish and whiny here, where then?)Well either way, we'll be telling general people after Thursday I suppose.  I would really rather wait till after the 20 week ultrasound, but I say that about every ultrasound and every doctor's appointment. How messed up is my relationship with my Mom when as SOON as I get pregnant I start dreading her knowing? 

I'm trying to decide if I should put it on Fertilitybook.  I have one infertile friend who is at the beginning of treatment on FB. I have not told her yet, though she does not seem to harbor any bitter feelings about other people being pregnant.

If I put it on FB, then I can tell a bunch of people at once, which is the cowards way out.  And looking pretty appealing.  Will people be mad?  Do I care?  I don't know.  The big bad is telling Mom.  UGH.  I always hoped she would have died before I had kids, I am sure that is hard for people with normal relationships with their mothers to understand, but it's true.  No matter how much she makes me crazy though, she adores Peter and is a very good grandma.   I am glad they have each other and glad for her that she has lived long enough to enjoy Peter.  Peter is always thrilled to see her.

Annnnyhow, I still think I am feeling the baby maybe once a day.  The baby WANTS PUMPKIN.  So did Peter.  Pumpkin anything.  I made a pie and am making pumpkin bread tomorrow. 

We had EXTREME POONAMI PART TWO on Friday.  Worse.  Worse than anything poo related I could imagine in my germaphobe ly.sol loving heart.

Peter had a blowout with diarrhea, and it went down his leg to puddle on the rug.  I smelled this awful smell that I thought was an electrical fire or something.  I went around sniffing and unplugging things and smelling outside to see if it was a neighbor.  Then I saw the puddle and thought it was cat puke.  Then I realized it was NOT cat puke.  And while I was looking for the nonexistent fire Peter tracked poo all over the carpet.  So I had to be calm-ish.  Indiana was sniffing it because he thought it might be fun to eat.  HOLY BALLS NO! Then, I took Peter upstairs and bathed him and put him to sleep and then it took two hours to clean and shampoo the carpet.  Which took all weekend to dry because it is a really dense rug.  It took hours and hours to clean the collateral damage.  Poopy laundry and the poopy tub and wash the floor and clean the carpet cleaner and scour the sink that I cleaned the carpet cleaner in, and take out the poopy smelly garbage and go buy more lysol and etc etc etc.  It was every bit as bad as you can imagine.  Should you in fact choose to imagine something like that.

So anyhow.

Yesterday after dinner Peter did this epic wet fart.  It sounded like a cross between coffee brewing and a drain.  I did not think much of it except to let Mr. know he could be proud that our son ripped a good one.  Then there was another.  I took a peek into THE DIAPER OF DOOM.  Oh fuckmewithabentdick. IT WAS INSANE.  I have seen some nasty diapers in the last 18 months, but this one was special.  It was like those see through gravy separators where the fat shoots up the spout, except it was not gravy in there. 

What followed was somewhat like watching two pinballs race around in a box banging off walls. We needed bleach, garbage bags, a tub, to bleach the tub, to fight about the best way to get Peter naked as everything had slid up his back to his armpits.  I recall that happened when Peter was a tiny baby, EXCEPT NOW HE EATS PEOPLE FOOD AND THAT IS DIFFERENT. Of course, all Peter wanted to do was put his hands in his mouth as I tried to hold him in some kind of yoga pretzel pose so Mr. could squeegee the poop off him. 

Then we took his temperature, he was ELATED to have more stuff happening to his butt. 

Then Mr. ran out for pedialy.te and also brought me home a huge fruit and nut chocolate bar.  Which I downed like a shot though you might think I was tired of looking at the color brown by that point.

This morning Peter got the BRA.T diet( are crayons part of the B.RAT diet?) and was acting like he never heard of shooting liquid poo-brownie out of his butt.  He was unthrilled to be under house arrest, but the idea of Poo Part 2 while away from home was not...appealing to me.  He is napping now.  On top of everything else he has a mosquito bite on his FACE.  So I had to give him bene.dryl.  So he was cranky, tired, punchy, etc.  It was a mixed bag of a morning and I was watching the clock for nap time so I could sit my fat ass down and eat pie eat a healthy meal for our growing baby.  Peter would not go to sleep though he was super tired and he kept giggling and making me giggle and then I would say "No. Nite Nite"" And he would beep my nose and then we would laugh.  So basically it took 40 minutes to get him to sleep because we both kept fooling around.

Speaking of baby, I think I am feeling the baby move.   I think.  It is much earlier than I ever felt Peter, so maybe the placenta is where it belongs this time?  I have been feeling some pokes.  Unexplainable by anything but our turnip sized child.  Which is very nice, though hard to believe.

Shark baby

Peter had his dental checkup today.  Lemme take this moment to tell anyone that does not know that your ped is WRONG to tell you to wait till age three, and that a child should really go to the dentist beginning at age one.  After all, they are eating food just like we are.  Peter's dentist has found cavities in babies as young as 8 months.  Peter had no cavities and SURPRISE all his two year molars are in.  Teeth, we has them.  She said we should be getting a break from teething for at least a year, but that since Peter has gotten so many teeth so early that he will likely get his three year molars earlier than normal as well.  It took me , the dentist and the assistant to keep Peter still for his cleaning and fluoride treatment.  The poor little man has been getting poked to bits with the ped and the dentist this week.  He also has a chipped front tooth.  Who knew?  Not me.  Probably from one of his many launchings from the couch or faceplants on the sidewalk. 

I got the call back from Dr. High Risk's office today.  They said my blood test was negative for anything they could screen for.  Which is good.  I asked the nurse what our odds were, or if they were unable to give us odds since they could not measure the baby's nuchal fold but she did not know.  I looked online and it said the quad screen catches 60% of Down Syndrome babies and 80-90% of neural tube defects.  Soooo, I suppose I would call myself 60% reassured. 

I wish we could have a more definite answer, but we did the best we could.  And we are going to be at a really great hospital with a level 3 NICU, in case there is something wrong that could not be seen. 

My next ob appointment is in 8 days, and the BIG ultrasound is three weeks from today. 

The weather is STILL crummy here.  I never EVER cared about the weather before like I do now.  Because rain= bad day and cooped up child. I watch the weather report like other people watch the stock markets.  Do you know it has been three and a half months since we turned off Peter's tv?  It's going just fine.  I just figured I had not mentioned it in a while.  He has seen snippets here and there when we are visiting people and they have it on, or if he wanders in when Mr. has a football/baseball game on.  But that is very rare, especially since we do not have cable anymore so it's not like we could watch many games anyway. 

18 month appointment

Welll it went ok.  Except for the part where Peter's nap was all jacked up.  Or the part where he fought like an angry bear to keep the doctor from checking his ears. 

He is 25 pounds and 31 inches long.  His doctor said not to worry for now about his whole HATE TO EAT THING. Like today.  For breakfast I gave him half a mini bagel with cream cheese.  He ate a quarter of it.  Later I offered him goldfish-no, a fig newman-yes, a bit later I offered him some of my peanut butter and jelly.  He tried it.  No thanks.  Then for lunch I made him home made mac and cheese-mmm protein and calcium!  NOOOOOO.  All he did was laugh hysterically as he smacked himself in the face with a spoonful.  He conceded to eating a half cup of cheerios.  That's it.  No fruit. No vegetables.  Nope.  At least he will drink milk.  And now I have to clean the kitchen.  GRUMP.  I am so tired of cooking and shopping for him only to have everything end up wasted.  We have the most expensive garbage on our street.

Back to the appointment, he got his shots and we talked about things that I worried about like Peter's headbanging and food refusal.  Everything looks good though she said if he is not talking more by his two year appointment that they would get him a speech therapist.  He says "no, up, this, that"regularly and frequently.  But not mama or daddy or cat or ball or milk or anything like that.  I asked her if it was a big deal and she said ( Mr. and I agree) that she was not worried because the words he is using are more complicated than mama and dada.  Sometimes he will say a word once or twice and never use it again, like banana, water, crescent, yes, and down. He has said all those once and then never repeated them.  I don't know, my personal feeling is that he does not give a crap or need to say mama since I am always right there. 

He is asleep FINALLY.  Fuck ALL people, I am tired.  So tired. And the house is crazypants.  And the kitchen is also crazypants. And I think I might get take out for dinner because I cannot face the idea of standing up and cooking and then cleaning. At least I know he will eat the meatball sandwich from down the street.

My ankles are giving me a lot of trouble.  So swollen.  And so uncomfortable.  The idea of going for a walk is repellent.  We did actually try and play outside this morning but there were too many mosquitoes.  Christ Almighty.  All the rain we have had has really really made it bad. 

I asked the ped. if she had any idea what would be best for Peter if I went back on bed rest.  She said he could handle whatever we decided.  She said some kids bring home everything from daycare and some don't ever get sick. She said Peter is pretty healthy and that he is not there a lot.  But then he might bring home stuff that made me sick too.  YAY.  I love it when there is no right answer. 

17 weeks

Tomorrow is 17 weeks.  I keep telling my husband that 17 feels like so many weeks.  A really long time.  And there are only three weeks left till the half-baked mark.  Which is scary.  Or exciting.  Or both. Peter's 18 month appointment is tomorrow.  And his dentist appointment is Wednesday.  And then not quite two weeks till the next ob appointment and three till we get the gender scan.  So I guess a lot of waiting around.  I hate having four weeks between ob appointments.  I thought I had one sooner but I was wrong.  Yuck.  I have gained 3 and a half pounds.  In symptom land I have almost constantly swollen ankles.  Last night my boobs hurt, but that went away, which is fortunate because Peter head butts me all the time. 

I still feel really distant from this pregnancy.  I am still waiting for the other shoe to drop.  How crazy am I?  Well, you decide.  I pooped three times today( my long time readers will know that constipation is my most glamourous pregnancy symptom) and instantly thought "three poops?  Is something wrong?  Maybe the baby died and I have no progesterone left and that is why I am pooping."  Yes, I am paranoid.

I have been stress eating.  Not the best idea, but since stress drinking is out of the question, I'll have to stick with food. 

Peter is PERILOUSLY close to climbing out of his crib.  Which is scaring me. A lot.  I am having problems laying him into his crib because my stomach is beginning to get in the way.  But turning his crib into a toddler bed... the end of naps, the end of showers unless Mr. is home, the end of security.  He is smart, but not smart enough not to get hurt in our creaky old house.  Will he climb out and play in his room?  NOT FREAKING LIKELY.  He prefers to climb on his air purifier, knock over his fan, jump on the guest room bed, play with the plunger etc potential broken arms and legs and NECKS and drowning and just worry.  

But he has been super darling also.  Now when you put him to bed he blows raspberries on you.  And he seems to be picking up a couple new words a week. Or at least they seem like words.  And he is making up all kinds of imaginary play.  Like feeding all his toys and giving them rides on his trucks and using one of his toys as a catapult for other toys.  Haha.  He has this little tool bench and it comes with a hammer that you use to hit a nail- causing another nail to pop up.  He puts a toy on the nail and whacks the other nail, sending his toy flying.  He also "reads" the newspaper now.  And will sit for really long books, like all the way through the real Peter Rabbit, and The Magic School Bus and other books that seem extremely long for an 18 month old to be interested in. 

16 weeks

Which is crazy.  Mainly because that means in four weeks we will be half way there.  WHOA.  Mr. has been on me to do less and rest more and I am going along with it.  Mostly because if I do too much my ankles swell up and don't hurt enough for a pity party, but do hurt enough to be annoying. 

I have  the second blood test on Friday, I have no idea how long it will take to get our results.  Probably a while.  Mr. and I are treating this trimester like the third trimester, just in case I end up on bed rest in December.  We have not made a list of stuff to buy, but really know that we don't need much.  We are fortunate to be able to re-use Peter's car-seats, bassinet, most of his clothes,etc all my old maternity clothes since it is the same time of year, and we are not changing the nursery.  I really like the shade of blue in Peter's nursery and changing the color just to change it seems dumb.  We just need a new boppy( Peter's boppy did not survive the many MANY washings because of all the barf from his acid reflux, a crib, a dresser( we will do like for Peter and put the changing pad on the dresser),a gymini(same barf problem), and some slings.  So we might spend 1500.  I am THROWING myself on the mercy of my fellow PCOS shaped readers.  I will do a full post and a link on LFCA when we get closer to shopping time.  I am a size 18 in typical PCOS formation.  And I am clumsy.  So no fancy ring things that you have to weave fabric through.  I am one of those people that can't tie a wrap skirt or stuff like that.  No way am I fussing with that for a sling to carry my baby.  I just want something I can put on and slap that poor baby in and then CHASE Peter without worrying.  Or worrying too much. And without constant re-adjusting. 

We are giving Peter a big boy room for Christmas, when we move all the nursery decorations out.  If you're curious, we are doing it in American Flag theme.  Not because we are highly patriotic, Peter just loves flags.  A LOT.  So perhaps he is patriotic. 

My stepmom told me she will come back here from their new home SEVERAL states away if I go back on bed rest.  Which is a relief.  Mr. told me we might not be able to afford to put Peter in daycare as I had initially planned if that happened, because we had so many extra costs related to the last time I was on bed rest.  You know, extra trips to the E.R., extra monitoring, extra prescriptions, abundant bills from those clowns at the high risk doctor.  Which were manageable but not necessarily on top of day care.  And since our deductible will re-set while I head to the 3rd trimester, we will have to start at the beginning with that too.  UGH.  So, we'll just have to see what happens.

My personal feeling is that while I might dodge high blood pressure this time around I am pretty damn likely to end up with GD again.  In that my hypoglycemia and PCOS did not magically go away in the last two years. 

I am again hoping to dodge a baby shower.  Because I still hate them, if we have a boy I will absolutely NOT ALLOW a baby shower.  NO WAY.  NO FREAKING WAY.  Everyone was so generous at Peter's shower.  We don't need more swag.  I would feel guilty, greedy and TACKY.  So tacky.   If we have a girl I would be ok with a small one, since while I tried very hard to buy gender neutral for Peter a lot of stuff does not come gender neutral.  We figure if it is a girl we will get her a couple of outfits for company and pictures and then just have her wear Peter's clothes.  Because seriously, who cares?  She won't know.  And I recall distinctly having to change Peter's whole outfit upwards of five times a day because of spit up.  She might not be in any one thing long enough for it to matter. 

It's odd to be so uncertain of this pregnancy and yet plan this far ahead.  Much farther ahead than I ever allowed myself with Peter.  But Mr. and I do not want to get caught like we did last time, we me unable to help and trapped like a beached whale on the couch.  Once we get past 20 weeks we'll bring up all the clothes and rewash and resort them.  And clear out a shelf in the kitchen for bottles.  Assuming this baby will use them, Peter never did take to them.

Snappy title

Yeah.  I'm all over the place.  Peter turned 18 months yesterday.  He is so awesome.  So smart, and cute, and funny.  And ACTIVE.  I feel like I am parenting a future Olympian.  He does not stop, ever.  He has been eating terribly lately.  If it does not improve in a couple days I am gonna take him in and get him checked out.  But he is finally talking more, he says NO(all the time) yes(if prompted), meow, neigh,star, and up.  Or more accurately "up, up, UP". He is also getting better at going down the stairs.  Which is a huge relief to me, since I really need him to learn to do that before I am too clumsy to carry him. 

I had a meltdown in the car tonight.  We were up at my parents and Mr. let it slip/my other sister in law figured out that I am pregnant.  Then it was 20 questions about did we want another, aren't we excited, etc.  Then my SIL( who is a darling person in general) asked( loudly at a volume comparable to singing Happy Birthday To You at a T.G..I.Fri.day's) in a crowded kitchen while I was trying to find Peter's fork before he decided HE WAS NOT GOING TO EAT, AGAIN if "I was going to share my NEWS with everyone??!!"   I was not really in the mood for some big dramatic statement, because I purely hate that kind of thing and REALLY A LOT hate that much attention focused on me, AND REALLY A LOT am still worried about this pregnancy so basically NO I WAS NOT PLANNING ON TELLING AN ENTIRE DINNER PARTY'S WORTH OF PEOPLE ABOUT MY PREGNANCY BUT THANKS. Because now they all know and I look like an asshole but I need to feed my toddler right now, not ignore him and run around while he is hungry. 

And so it was awkward.  Because I guess I was supposed to act more joyful or excited or I don't know however the fuck normal people act. Which ok fine I GET THAT I AM PARANOID. I GET THAT EVERYONE ELSE THINKS EVERYTHING WILL BE FINE. AND I FUCKING GET THAT I AM A BIG WET BLANKET BECAUSE NO ONE EVER TALKS ABOUT HOW BABIES DIE SOMETIMES. BECAUSE I GUESS THAT IS A FUCKING DOWNER.  But they do.  It happens.  I do not have any special magic to keep it from happening to me. 

On Friday I was really mad at my sister.  What the fuck does I DO NOT WANT TO TELL EVERYONE mean?  Does it mean JUST KIDDING?? Does it mean, TILL YOU ARE TIRED OF IT? Or maybe it means FORCE ME INTO TELLING ENOUGH PEOPLE BECAUSE I AM IRRATIONAL AND THEN I WILL MAGICKALLY ACT HOW YOU WANT AND WE CAN MAKE A WHOOOOOOOOOOOOOOLE FA.CE.BO.OK PAGE ABOUT IT.

Soooo when she got here with her friend that is visiting from France, she said immediately "I did not tell D. your NEWS" I gave her my death look. Then she brought brie and I said I could not have it and she said ' I did not tell her WHY." Please again imagine the TG.IF.R.IDAY'S volume.  Then later she said " I guess you have figured out our NEWS." So I did not know what do to.  I was really angry with my sister for putting me in that position.  So I told D. because frankly as livid as I was with my sister, it was not poor D's fault and she is not a moron and was a guest in my home. 

And then later my sister was prompting me again with much put upon sighing to tell my Mother.  I said NO.  NO NO NO.  NO. 

And I guess it was too much for me. So tonight in the car I asked Mr. how it came to be that he told
( Mr. ALSO told our neighbor without warning me and she came racing into our house and I was Really. Not. Prepared.  ) I know it is his baby too, I know.  Anyhow, he said he thought she knew already and he figured everyone must know by now.  And that I am paranoid and that he was not worried one little bit about anything and that the pregnancy we lost was early and we had fixed so many things that were wrong with me, and  everything was going to be fine and that we are 97%likely to have a baby and that not telling people won't change what happens.  But everyone we tell we would have to UNTELL.  So I said that I was worried.  And then he was going on trying to soothe me but really it was just having the opposite effect.  So I started to cry and said it just made me terribly nervous to tell people and then he said we did not have to tell anyone else. But really, I know that too many people know now and they will not be able to shut up and it will never even occur to them to shut up.  Because after all, ONLY OTHER PEOPLE'S BABY'S DIE.