Month 2- Grace

Dear Peanut, Grace Potato, Little Bean:

Last week, you turned two months old. These two months went much faster than the last two you were in my tummy. One thing you will learn is how impatient I am- almost nauseatingly so (your father is the total opposite, so it all evens out in the end). You really gave me a run for my money those last three weeks- the constant contractions, the constant discomfort. I suppose perhaps you wanted out just as much as I did.

So far, you have proven to be your brother's complete opposite (aside from the fact that you are a girl and not a boy. You are calm, laid back, and content. We can hold you (sitting down) for a long period of time without you screaming and kicking and wailing. You enjoy bath time- a far stretch from your brothers reaction to the "flesh eating acid water" we were obviously immersing him in. You do not hate the car, which makes traveling that much less stressful. You are just easier, much easier. I think God made the right choice giving us the little monster (I say that with endearing love) first. It was nice that he has been easy on us the second time around. Even when you cry, it is so completely unintimidating.

After experiencing one child's growth from an infant to a toddler, I am excited to see how you will develop and who you will become. I am so excited to share a birthday with you, and I hope that you will feel the same way. I hope we can spend it together doing ridiculously girly things like shopping and getting our hair and nails done. I look at your beautiful little face and I hope and pray the inevitable teen girl attitude years are minimal and that you keep the number of times you tell me how much you can't wait to leave home down below five occasions. Sigh...for now I will soak in these moments when you need me and I can hold you and rock you and smell you- oh man...I forgot how good new born babies smell.

I also forgot how much babies grow and change during the first year of their lives. You are already smiling and chatting in your baby language and developing your own little personality. It seems like just yesterday you were staring up at me with those big eyes soaking in your new world.

Your birth marked a significant change in our family- we went from a family of three to a family of four. You evened us out, and brought us to that next level. Your birth made me a mother of two, and brought me to the realization that I am a wife, a mother, an adult with responsibilities and truly at that next stage in life. Not that I did not know that before- trust me I knew! You just helped it soak in. When over three quarters of your life is spent growing up and figuring out who you are- finding your identity and where you want life to take you, it takes a little bit of time to finally get to the point where you can finally take a moment to realize that you found yourself. You are where you are supposed to be- yeah, it took some time and some trial and error, but you made it. Thank you for that gift.

Thank you, also, for sleep...goodness I love sleep. Those first 7 weeks were down right ridiculous. I felt like a shell of a human being, a zombie at best. About a week and a half ago, you started sleeping pretty much through the night. Screw water boarding, put one of those guys in a room alone with a new born baby day and night and believe me they will talk...they will be BEGGING to talk! In retrospect, it has already gone too fast- and all of those sleepless nights are totally worth this face:




Love,

Mommy

Month 26

Dear Jack-

Your recently rolled past your 26th month alive. You are cuter and funnier than ever- and I find myself laughing hysterically at the things you say (regardless of whether I should be or not). I decided to step aside of the usual monthly letter and make a list of some of the things you say and do. I'm sure I am doing this more for my own benefit that yours- selfish, I know, but I figure the stretch marks engraved in my body allow me that priveledge once in awhile.

I need to remember these things, and I know that I won't, I know it is humanly impossible. I can not go the rest of my life not being reminded of these things- these darn things that come out of this little mouth only 26 months old.

Here are some of the greatest hits:

-"You're Ridiculous" Always directed towards me----thanks.

-"Are you kiddin' me?" You started this one day immediatly after I said it in response to a driver cutting me off. Only more proof that you are ALWAYS listening and absorbing.

-"What are you talkin' about" and "I dont care" are always accompanied by a shoulder shrug and both arms raised in the air, palms facing up.

-"I'm relaxing" or "I relax?" which is always conveniently said post a tantrum, when we tell you it is time for bed.

-"I'm awake mommy" Which you say after I have changed your diaper and obviously have already established for myself. You just like to make sure I know, that you are in fact not sleep walking, but awake.

-"Touchdown! Go state" Every time you throw your football or watch a football game on tv. It also does not matter who is playing- they are always "state". Your father is so proud. oh and footballs are "hitballs"

-"sigh....geez" You usually say this very low, almost under your breath. It comes after you ask me to get you something and I ask you to please hold on a minute. You ask about 1390284093824 times in a row, and when I finally can't take it anymore and drop what I am doing to get you a drink (or whatever may be the case)you exclaim this in frustration.

-"We go THIS way!" Regardless of which way we need to travel, you always have an input of which way we SHOULD be going, and then get mad when we do not take your suggestion.

-"CA CHOW" - or anything recitable from the cars movie

- "A truck....another truck.....ANOTHER TRUCK!" You are never failed to be amazed by the presence of large trucks everytime we get in the car. You point out them all, and you request us to find you more when you no longer see them. If I controlled traffic, do you think I would buy Great Value bottled water from Walmart? No- we would drink Figi, why?- because I control traffic and the figi trucks would drive directly to our home. I really do not know where I was going with that...anyway...

-"A clue! ANOTHER Clue!" In response to seeing nittany lion paw magnets on the fridge. God bless you Blues Clues.

-"Yeeeeah" which is usually said in the tone of a sigh, and is your default response for everything...well, except when you are being a 2 year old and then your default response is "NO". Jack, would you like pizza? "NO" Would you like a hotdog? "NO" Would you like world peace? "NO"

-"I had fun at grammy's. I sit by the fire. It was comfy." You are beginning to have unprompted conversations with us. It is as equally adorable as it is a testiment to how much you are growing up.

And last, but not least, my favorite "I lub you mommy".

I lub you too buddy.

Counting Blessings

I used to pray for silly things- or things that I thought were direly important at the time but only ridiculous in retrospect. I used to think God was not listening, as I would cry out- literally beg- for what I thought I needed, but in retrospect were only wants. As I look back at all of those times, the times I thought my life needed to head a certain direction or when I did not know which direction to head at all- I thought I was alone. Where was the answer? Where was my instant gratification? Where was the flock of birds spontaneously flocking past me to let me know I was heard and that everything was going to be alright. It turns out, I was the one who wasn't listening- it turns out I had no idea what I needed. It turns out, God is listening- maybe not to the thoughts going through your head or the words coming out of your mouth, but rather through the echos from each beat of your heart.

I know that I am blessed, and I make sure to thank God every night. I thank him for giving me not what I want, but what I need. I thank him for ignoring my pleas, and for answering my prayers.

It Won't Be Like This For Long

He didn't have to wake up
He'd been up all night
Layin’ there in bed listenin’
To his new born baby cry
He makes a pot of coffee
He splashes water on his face
His wife gives him a kiss and says
It gonna be OK

It won’t be like this for long
One day soon we'll look back laughin’
At the week we brought her home
This phase is gonna fly by
So baby just hold on
‘Cause it won't be like this for long


Without fail, every time I hear that song I cry my eyes out. I needed to hear it again today, to remind myself how quickly babies grow into toddlers. How quickly they start picking their head up, rolling over, crawling, walking, and eventually talking and telling their mother's to "be patient". How quickly this:



Turns into this:



The last week or so has been pretty exhausting- I forgot how debilitating newborn sleep patterns were. No, it does not compare to Jack's three hour scream fests, but it is still tiring. Thankfully the last two nights when she has woken up to eat in the middle of the night she has gone back to sleep (hopefully a sign things are changing ...knock on wood). There have been moments at 3am when I think, "There is no way I am doing this again...two kids is more than enough". Then there are moments at 10am when she wraps her little hand around my finger and stares up at me with those sponge like eyes just soaking everything in and I think, "Yep, 10 more sounds about right".

Looking back, those sleepless nights with Jack flew by at light speed. One day, her hands will not fit in the palm of mine and I need to cherish right now before it slips through my fingers, sleepless nights and all.




But right now she's up and cryin’
And the truth is that he don't mind
As he kisses her good night
And she says her prayers

He lays down there beside her
‘Til her eyes are finally closed
And just watchin’ her it breaks his heart
Cause he already knows

It won’t be like this for long
One day soon that little girl is gonna be
All grown up and gone
Yeah, this phase is gonna fly by
So, he's tryin’ to hold on

‘Cause it won’t be like this for long

Month Twenty Four and Twenty Five

Dear Jack,

I apologize for the double post, you see, your mother was not in her right mind for most of June through September because most of the blood in my body was concentrated in my stomach. I am not sure if that is the reason pregnant women become loopy and absentminded and just plain dense for the latter part of their pregnancy, but one day when your own wife is pregnant you will be able to experience it first hand and fully understand and forgive my tardiness.

Last month you turned two years old. It is hard to believe that almost three years ago, my life was set into motion to change forever. And now, every day that passes I see you grow more and more towards being a little boy and further and further away from being my baby. Sure I am excited to see you grow into a little man and to see what kind of adult you will become, but I am not ready for time to get away from me just yet. I am not ready for you to stop wanting me to kiss your "ouchies", you asking if you can hold me, and I will even miss being followed into the bathroom everytime I have to pee. And, while I know that I still have quite a bit of time left, I find it unfair that so much seems to pass just when I blink my eyes. So, if you don't mind, I would appreciate it if you would stop calling me "mom" and just refer to me as "mommy" for the next couple of years.

Another big event recently was the birth of your sister, Grace. Your first reaction to her when you came to visit us in the hospital was, "No, that's not Grace". I think you were expecting someone different, someone more your size and not someone so "boring" who slept, ate, and needed held by your mommy and daddy all the live long day. While you are extremely attached to me right now and occasionally fake cry like an infant, you are taking this change a lot better than I was afraid you might. You like to give her hugs, concern yourself with her cries, and are always quick to offer her binkie when she is upset. You just need to learn a little gentless and a little patience, but overall you are already a fantastic big brother.

Sadly, with life always comes loss. Right before the birth of your sister, my papa, your great grandfather passed away. I am sad that you will neve get to truly know him, and that he was never able to meet Grace. He was an amazing man and lived a life that has extended to you a legacy. Although we may never know the whole story or all of the details, he was able to escape from Nazi Germany during the holocaust. He lost everything: his family, his wealth, his home. He came over here with nothing but the clothes on his back and was able to build a successful life and more importantly, create a family. It is amazing to think that if anything would have gone differently, your grammy would not be here, I would not be here and neither would you or your sister.

Unfairly, the last several years of his life he was ill and in a lot of pain and discomfort. He never complained, and once said that if this is what god had dealt him than he would deal with it. He was the epitamy of determination, strength, intelligence and integrity and set the bar high for the rest of us. I hope that we can make his memory proud by living honestly, strongly, and by cherishing one another every day.

With the birth of your sister and the death of my papa, I have found myself thinking a lot lately over life and death. I have been thinking a lot about how lucky we are and how blessed our family is. One of the greatest things my parents taught me was to be grateful for what you have and to appreciate the little things. I hope I can pass that lesson on to you as well. And, even though you do not realize it now, we have given you a wonderful gift with the birth of your sister- the gift of family and a friend for life. The two of you need to look out for one another, take care of eachother, and always be there for one another. Family is so important- We may not have everything in life, but as long as we have eachother, we do not need to.

Love,

Mommy

She's Here!!

I received a wonderful birthday present from my doctor this year- an induction!!! The hubby and I went down on September 15th, early squirrely, and at 730am I was hooked up to the pitocin and labor was started. I was still only 1+ cm and 70% effaced, which means there is a good chance I would have made it to my due date and - who knows- I might be sitting here now STILL pregnant. I can not even wrap my mind around that...it makes my brain hurt.

The whole day went relatively fast- I contracted for HOURS, and they were uncomfortable and somewhat intense but still very bearable. After feeling that, I truly believe I would not have known if I was in real labor if I had waited because my contractions throughout the three weeks prior to being induced had been much more intense and painful. By noon, I was only 3cm and when they checked me at 4pm I was still the same. They finally broke my water and I immediately requested an epidural because I remembered how I felt a half hour after they broke my water with Jack and frankily I was not in the mood to feel like my pelvis was being ripped out of my body. I am so happy I had enough sense to do that, because literally within five minutes my body felt like it was eating itself. God bless Mr. Epidural. I toughed it out all day, but I am not into self torture. I do not sit around my family room bashing a hammer into my pelvis to pass the time, and therefore I refuse to put myself through extended amounts of UNNECESSARY pain. Do not get me wrong, rock on ladies who tough it out and are mentally bad ass enough to breath through the agony. However, I have had a child before, and I know you do not get upgraded to the presidential suite in the maternity ward for opting to take on the pain. It felt like it took ten years for her to put in the epidural, maybe that is because I was trying to hold still and try to ignore the pain of my body splitting in half every 2 1/2 minutes. Once it was in and the meds were powered on...."Angels Singing". Glorious...and my hospital provided the continuous drip which guarantees no pain through the duration of the labor.

Around ten to six, my doctor checked me again, and in only an hour and a half I had progressed to 6cm. Around five after six, my nurse came in and decided to check my progress "for the fun of it". As soon as she began to check she said "Oh my, there's a baby there". Turns out I was ready. Five minutes later I was pushing, and ten minutes later little Grace Madelyn Logue was born. I have been so lucky with the duration at which I have to actually push. I hear stories of women who pushed for hours. With Jack it was only 30 mins and with Grace only 10.

I did not realize how truly uncomfortable I had been the last month until I was not pregnant anymore. I feel like a new person. I feel like myself again. Yes, I am tired, but it is a good tired...a rewarding tired. I feel wonderful. Being a mom of two is definitely a whole new ball game, but one that is laced with experience and confidence. I truly believe half of what makes this easier this time around is knowing what to expect. Sure, I am hormonal and get weepy and I am having emotional issues dealing with this mild jaundice Grace has (clearing up nicely, I am just a worry wart)but I feel like I have control this time. Not to mention, having my husband home this time has been the best part- I am not alone. Just knowing someone else is there is extrememly reassuring and comforting.

So will I do it again? Yes. It would be too weird to think that was last time I was ever going to be pregnant or welcoming a new baby into our family, even knowing the last month of this pregnancy could repeat itself. There is nothing like the moment your baby is born and placed on your chest and you hear them cry and get to touch, see and hear them for the first time. The saturation of emotions that rush in instantaneously is indescribible and it is an uncomparable experience that changes you forever. People would ask me while I was pregnant this second time around if I worry about how I am going to love this new child as much as I already love my first. It is something I wondered about, but never really worried about. I love my little girl more than life itself, and with her only came a greater love and appreciation for my son and husband. A mother's heart can never be too full of love, and just when she thinks it is her little boy asks if he can hold her, she catches the scent of her newborn baby girl, or she sees her husband craddling her children and she feels it grow a little more only to fear that one day her chest just might burst.

There is a light!

Monday morning my consistent crampiness decided to take it up a notch. It leveled off for the remainder of the day and all day yesterday as well. This morning, they decided to kick it up another notch....BAM! (Apparently Emeril is controlling the last month of my pregnancy?) They are intense enough to disrupt my concentration and I have begun to feel sick from it. I had my weekly check-up this morning, but no change- still 1+ and 70% effaced. I began to cry. Yep...I cried like a little baby there in the doctor's office. I feel so blessed the the first eight months of the pregnancy were so easy and uneventful, but this last month is giving me a run for my money. It has not become only physically exhausting, but also mentally and emotionally draining. To my pleasant surprise, my doctor is giving me a birthday present. If the baby does not come in the next few days on her own, I am being induced on the 15th at 730am (Happy 25th Birthday to me!). I still feel like I was hit by a bus, but knowing that I only have two more days of work left and that I will not have to go two more weeks like this has padded some of the mental and emotional discomfort. I am really excited and really anxious. I just hope my body calms down a little bit before then so I can get some rest before next week.

A long time coming...

I have written this post about ten times- the post where I complain to the world about how miserable I feel. The post where I vent and vent and vent about how uncomfortable I am. However, everytime I write it, I press the "save now" button instead of the "publish post" tab. I suppose I never publish it, because I whine enough in my head and to my husband and to my family and my coworkers and to any jim, bob, or harry that asks me the time on the street.

Jim, Bob, or Harry: "Excuse me mam, do you have the time"
Me: "SIX MORE WEEKS!!!!!!!! AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH"

After I write the post, I feel some satisfaction and do not allow my discomfort to stain the web. I never thought I had a real reason to complain- I was not going through anything different than any other pregnant woman goes through in the last few months. I was tired- who isnt. I was peeing every six seconds- so is every other prego. My feet hurt - at least I have feet, right? Well...the tides have turned and now I feel like I have justification to moan and gripe and vent like a furnace.

On Satruday morning, I started to have contractions. Nothing close, but annoying enough and they lasted all day. Sunday- they continued. By Sunday night, not only was I still having them but it started to hurt to breathe. I still had not called the doctor because I refused to be the girl who cried "labor". Plus, I could still function normally, just with some additional whincing. Monday came, and by 2pm I was over-it. I called my doctor, prefacing my story with "I was really hesitant to call, but..." Soon, I had been sent to the hospital. I had to get a CT Scan, because apparently my strained and pained breathing could be a result of blood clots that formed in my pelvis during pregnancy and traveled to my lungs. Lungs are clear, and the doctor made sure to also tell me I was not constipated...thanks doc, I could have told you that. After I was cleared downstairs, I was sent up to Labor and Delivery. They hooked me up to the monitors and it turns out I was contracting...little ones, but they were there and I was validated!!!! Within the next hour, they jumped to two - three minute intervals and very intense. They gave me a shot to stop them, and since then I have been in a state of constant crampiness and discomfort ever since.

I just got back from the doctor- the whole drive back I was on the verge of tears. Still not dilated and still crampy and miserable. I could be like this for the next four weeks. If I was sure feeling like this would guarantee that I would deliver sooner, than I might be emotionally ok with it- but knowing I could still go to my due date and feel like this the entire time just feels like dreadful torture. My doctor told me to have a glass of wine before bed to help me sleep tonight, because the baby has developed as much as she is going to at this point and the rest of the time is just a weight game (excuse me doctor, if that was the case, why did you stop my labor on Monday...thanks).

So here I am, more uncomfortable than the average prego...hoping and praying that I do not have to feel like this for another four weeks.

Being a mom- broken heart cause #0142

Our new neighborhood is wonderful, quiet and full of very nice people. Jack is the youngest child on our street- the closest in age is our next door neighbor's little boy who is four, almost five and Jack will only be two in two weeks.

Jack is always excited to see the little boy, and always says his name and wants to play with him. He does, but what Jack does not understand and neither does the other little boy, is that Jack is still very much a baby. Sure he is a little boy and he walks and talks and runs around and plays, but his legs can only run so fast and his understanding and imagination are still very young. Often times when the little boy next door comes over and plays, it is usually around Jack. I always feel bad for Jack, because he is always trying to keep up and play with him, but he inevitabley seems to get left out because he is still so little.

On Thursday night, we were talking with the neighbors and the little boy next door came over to "play" with Jack with another little four year old girl who also lives on our street. Jack was soaked from head-to-toe after "helping" me water the flowers, and since it was getting darker I decided he needed to be changed into some dry clothes. The kids were at the back of the yard catching lightning bugs, and as I went over I heard them tell Jack that he could not catch the lightning bugs because he was "too small". I brought Jack inside for a moment, and as I was redressing him to go back outside he began talking about something being small. It took me a minute to figure out he was saying "I too small". Between the pregnancy hormones and hearing my little boy repeat what was said to him, I almost burst into tears right there. Whether he understand what it meant or not, I can not be positive, but my heart definitely broke into a million pieces. As he would repeat the phrase whilst expressing a super serious face, I would counter it everytime by telling him he was not too small at all and that he was a big boy.

As any parent, I want my child to be included and to be welcomed. I think about my fun loving, silly, wonderful and playful little boy and I want nothing more than as a parent but for other people-especially other children- to recognize and appreciate that as well.

As innocent as that situation may have been, it could not stop my heart from feeling like it was sucker punched in the gut. I think one of the most vulnerable feelings about being a parent is knowing that even when you are around, you can not protect your child from everything. Things are going to happen whether you like it or not. I can not be there with him every second of the day, and even if I am with him I know that in most situations I need to let things happen and that I can only step-in under certain circumstances. I just hope and pray that I can at least be a comfort and cure rather than a bandaid that simply provides a temporary cover.

Annabelle or Lamp Shade?

Choosing a name for your future child is probably one of the most exciting- and sometimes overwhelming-things about pregnancy. Well, for me at least. You get to choose the name your child will carry with them for the rest of their life, assuming they do not hate it so much that they stomp on your heart and legally change it themselves.

When I was pregnant with Jack, the husband and I knew what name we wanted immediately. He suggested it, I loved it, so it would be. Choosing Grace's name was not as easy. It took a lot more consideration and throwing names back and forth (Well mostly me throwing them and my husband saying "no"). I would watch T.V., listen to songs, read books, and stare at waitress' name tags for inspiration. Godforbid this baby turn out to be a boy, because there is a good chance I'll be inspired by my cereal one morning in the hospital and throw "Tucan Sam" on the birth certificate.

After going through the first pregnancy, and receiving a different reaction everytime someone asked me what we were planning on naming the baby, I was a little hesitant about divulging number two's name. I did not enjoy the contorted faces people would display as I revealed to them my first born's name. It was if I farted in their face with words. I have known people who have actually changed the name they wanted to name their child because of reactions alone.

I still get the same fart wrenched faces among those I reveal number two's name to. I have come to like and appreciate names that are classic, names that have stood the test of time. Names that my kids can take with them through the different stages in their lives. I put a lot of thought into the process, and so when someone gives me a forced "oh, that's nice", I want to rip off their face (or sit and cry, depending on my mood).

So, the moral of the story is that when I am pregnant with number three NO ONE is learning his or her name until the day he or she enters the world. It is I who has to carry the little bugger for nine months, I who has to suffer the stretch marks and weight gain, and I(and my husband) who have to suffer the hormones and sleepless nights and getting spit up and peed on and who can't shower for three days straight- so we can name them whatever the hell we want. Lamp Shade.

Month 23

Dear Jack,

A week ago, you hit Month 23- almost officially a toddler. When I compare your age to my pregnancy, you somehow seem to be growing a lot faster than my pregnancy is progressing; quite the paradox.

We have begun to transition our home and family in preparation for the arrival of your sister. This month, you said good-bye to your crib and embarked on the "big boy" bed. To my pleasant surprise, you did not miss the crib at all. Even when you do not want to go to bed (which is everytime bedtime rolls around), you stay put and have only dared to leave the boundaries of the mattress once.

Aside from the success of the crib, we have been preparing the baby's room for her arrival. As I organized clothing and bedding, you would climb into the vibrating seat, swing, bassinet, and play with the toys- too bad you did not show that much interest in those things when you were small enough to use them. Regardless, I feel like it is a sign that we are going to have to make sure we affirm with you every day how special you are to us, how much we love you and that you are still and will always be our baby. You have been the center of our attention for almost two years, and I know the addition of another member sharing that attention is going to be a transition. Right now, you are content with her being in mommy's tummy. I am not sure if you actually understand that there is an actual baby inside my tummy, or if you think she's just mommy and daddy's imaginary friend.

When we are not preparing for the baby's arrival, we are watching you grow and develop and talk our ears off. Your father has started to teach you your ABC's, and numbers and you are doing very well, although we have to keep reminding you that to get to "ten" the path does not go "one, two, three, four, six, eight, CAR!"

This morning I was woken up to you and your father going through the house- a pleasant change of pace for a Thursday before work. You grew an attachment to your rubber ducks in the bathtub last night (telling them to kiss one another and making them swim). Your friendship continued this morning, and as I got ready for work, I watched and listened as you tucked them into your bed and told them to go to sleep and not to come out of the bed and that you loved them and would see them later. Then you told me that they were hungry, and together the three of you enjoyed a bowl of Sloop-loops (fruit loops) at the kitchen table- you had your bowl and the ducks even had their own small bowl and OF COURSE the ducks had to have milk on their cereal. I laughed the whole morning, another wonderful way to start a thursday. I am always fascinated by your interpretations of us- whether it be tucking your ducks in bed, talking to an imaginary friend on one of our cellphones, or randomly repeating phrases we frequent throughout your everyday jargon. Children are like sponges, and it is always the small things we do that you notice and absorb the most. You are always watching and always paying attention. From brushing our teeth to kissing your hurt finger, we are constant role models for the foundation of who you are and who you will become. Even before you were born, I would fret over how to mold you into a good, honest, kind, well-rounded person. I am beginning to understand that all I need to do is to try and set that example for you everyday within myself and hope that you absorb all of those things as well. Thank you for making me want to always be a better mother, wife, daughter, sister, friend and human being.

Love,

Mommy

30 Weeks and two days

(http://pregnancy.baby-gaga.com/cartoons/cartoon30)


Thirty weeks and two days (I deserve those two days and I am going to mark my territory all over them). It seems like the light at the end of the tunnel does not appear until you are out of the twenties. The weeks in the twenties seem to last FOREVER. Simply put, they are the bastard child of pregnancy.

Thirty weeks and in the home stretch, I am beginning to become a little nervous. Every pregnancy is different, this one being no expception. I have been a lot calmer this pregnancy- much less paranoid, have not gained as much weight as quickly, did not have to wear a cathetar for a week, the smell of popcorn makes me want to vomit, the baby is much more active than Jack ever was, etc etc etc. I want the baby to come early, but that also means I will not be prepared. I did not love that Jack was two days late, but looking back- being induced was REALLY convenient. It was like pregnancy fit right in with my schedule. I was able to get everything at work ready for my absence, I was able to shower and freshen up, I was able to have all of my stuff ready for the hospital, I was able to be at the hospital and casually put into labor, I was able to request an epidural when I needed it and have it so it lasted through the entire labor...it was like "BK-Have it your way" day. I am so worried that I will go into labor at work or in the middle of Wal-mart, I won't be ready for anything, either "A" I won't make it to the hospital in time and Bill will have to deliver the baby on the side of I-79, "B" I will not make it to the hospital in time for the epidural and will have to FEEL EVERYTHING, "C" my labor will be so long that the epidural will have worn off and I will have to FEEL EVERYTHING, "D" I will have to get a C-section and have a GIANT SCAR and the medication will wear off and I will FEEL EVERYTHING, and that Grace is really a boy and not a girl and he will have to live in a purple room and wear pink flowered onsies because GOSH DARNIT I bought those onsies and SOMEONE is going to wear them. Pant pant pant pant pant...sigh.

I need a drink. In fact, if someone would like to buy ME a baby present, you can bring a bottle of kahlua to the hospital when I deliver and I will drink it on the way home in the car while I comfort my new little baby boy GRACE who CROSS DRESSES.

Month 22

Dear Jack,

Since I slacked on Month 21, I thought I would try to make-up for it by keeping up with Month 22. Not to mention, you have grown about 10 years in the last 2 weeks and I need to try and keep up.

Your obsession with cars in the last two weeks is unparalleled by you love of anything else. You take them everywhere, and more recently have decided their hard-cold metal structures make the perfect cuddling companion while you sleep. You are all boy, my son.

You have also become quite the little mocking bird, and relish in repeating everything we say as soon as we say it- which is why your father and I have had to eliminate 57% of our vocabulary. You are not just repeating single words anymore, either, but entire phrases. About a week ago, you and I were driving out of the Walmart parking lot and a car cut us off. I retaliated with a "Are you kidding me?" You immediatly replied, and continued to repeat for the next 5 minutes "You kiddin' me?". Which is a perfect example of why I have installed extra filters between my brain and my mouth.

I am not the bragging kind of mother, but I have to say that your fascination and uncanny observation for details is quite impressive. You seem pick-up things we tell you relatively quickly, and you even have the ability to connect your own associations with that information. For instance, your Uncle Jason is a police officer. You have never seen him in his uniform, nor have you seen him in a police car. In fact, no one has ever pointed to a random police car and said his name. However, everytime you see a police car you say "Jason car". On Monday night, we were sitting outside and a police siren went off in the distance and you, once again, said his name. I have no idea how were able to make the connection between Uncle Jason and police car, let alone the connection between a siren and a police car and Uncle Jason. You little smarty pants.

Since it is always important to remain modest, I will offset the previous paragraph with this next little gem. The other day, as you were getting out of the tub, you pointed to your little man part and asked, "Mommy, what's dat?" And, I just laughed and laughed- which is probably something that will affect your self esteem for the rest of your life, become a recurring topic of discussion with your future therapist, and the inspire the title of your memoirs- "I pointed to my private parts and all my mother did was laugh".

It is my job to be your biggest cheerleader and the person that will embarass you the most. It is not easy, but someone has to do it.

Love,

Mommy

Free Birthing = WHAT ARE YOU THINKING?

It seems that when I am pregnant I find myself extra drawn to shows about babies, giving birth to babies, being pregnant with babies, babies -babies- babies. I enjoy living vicariously through other women giving birth because I wish I was as well. I love having children, but if I have said it once, I'll say it 890 more times- I am too impatient to be pregnant. Yeah, there should be a process of time, but no more than six months- nine is just completely ridiculous.

Anyway, last night, I was watching a documentary on women who choose free birthing as an option. If you are not familiar with the term, what it entails is the woman giving birth to her child at home without any medical assistance what so ever- no doctors, nurses, not even a mid-wife or Douala. I sat there the whole time with my mouth gaping open. My pants were wet from my mortified drool- either that or I sneezed, coughed or blinked too hard and peed myself.

I am all for doing what makes you comfortable, because giving birth and going through labor is one of the most humbling and ridiculous experiences I have and will ever go through as long as I live. Saying that, I feel that there is a line that one should not cross- the line where your opinions affect the well being of not only your health and safety but the safety and livelihood of your unborn child. These women are playing Russian roulette with their child's life, and it is completely irresponsible. I understand if you had a bad experience at the hospital or you do not like doctors or whatever other reason you have that makes you want to have your child at home, but you should never let those feelings and opinions get in the way of bringing your child safely into this world. I do not agree with home delivery- I believe that hospitals and doctors were created by God for a reason and I do not want to be anywhere else if an emergency occurs while I am giving birth. However, if you choose to give birth at home, than you at least have the responsibility of recruiting a mid-wife or some kind of medical professional who has the know-how to be able to deal with this situation. You should not be tying your child's umbilical cord with a shoestring and cutting it with a pair of scissors you got at Wal-mart- and no, burning the blades over a match does NOT make them adequately sterile. We do not live in 1875 (incase you lost your calendar). If you are more than comfortable using other modern advances such as electricity and plumbing and you live in a house that does not have a dirt floor or is surrounded by stone walls then AT LEAST give your child the best opportunity into this world by being around medical professionals who will be able to deal with labor and birth and all of the crazy situations they bring forth, even if that means giving birth at home.

Month over Twenty-one, not quite Twenty Two

Dear Jack,

I apologize for failing at my posting last month. We did have a lot going on, but I will let you know that it is partly your fault. Yes, yours. We did not have a working laptop for almost two months, because someone decided to place the laptop on the ottoman where a certain someone decided to pound their little hands on the keyboard. I was out grocery shopping, so the certain someone who left the laptop on the ottoman was not I- use deductive reasoning to figure out who it might have been.

When I walked into the apartment, your father was sitting with his head in his hands in front of a laptop with a screen display that was sideways. We restarted it, and to our dismay the computer did not want to function. We could not do anything. We took it to Best Buy to see if they could figure out what was wrong. THANK GOD it was still under warranty, because they determined it needed a new hard drive. That is right, you killed our hard drive in a matter of 6 seconds. I think you may have a future with the CIA.

In other news, we bought our house and moved! I was worried about how you would adjust to the change, because the apartment is the only home you have ever known. To my pleasant surprise, you did not miss a beat and cozied right up to the new joint. You love the extra room- especially the yard. You even have a new friend "DAV-ID" who you call for frequently, whether he is outside or not. The you casually go into his yard, like a little creeper, searching for him. We are trying to teach you boundaries.

Looking back at the last couple of months, I can not believe how much you have developed. You still speak gibberish sometimes, but more often than not you are conveying yourself with words and phrases. Your new favorite phrase is "I'm Hungry". I am so happy you are back to eating now, but could we, maybe, not be hungry at 5am every morning? I have been pushing you off until at least 7, but yesterday you were more than insistent at 630am when you strictly requested sloop loops (fruit loops). Ever since you saw that darn commercial on saturday, that is all you have asked for. When you first started asking for it, we did not have any in the house. I kept trying to tell you that we did not have fruit loops, but you did not believe me. I tried to explain that if we had fruit loops, I would give them to you but we dont so I cant. But, you think food magically creates itself, so your weren't convinced. I knew things were getting a little out of control when you saw a KFC commercial last night and proceeded to ask for chicken.

I can't tell if this new obsession over food is a new phase, or a reaction to having the stomach virus last week. The only thing worse than being sick yourself, is watching you child be sick. I now know why mothers tell their children that they would be sick for them if they could. It would be much easier being sick myself than watching you lay around, lifeless in comparison to your normal self. The only good thing that came out of you being sick was realizing you still need me. It felt so good to hear you call my name at 3am. Since I work, I do not get to spend the time with you that I want to and so when you fall or bump your head and want "daddy", my heart would go to my stomach a little bit each time.

You are growing so fast and constantly changing every single day. I still can't believe you used to be the little 8lb 11oz nugget I gave birth to almost two years ago. I wish I could be with you all day everyday- Mondays are always the saddest for me. I am glad (and a little jealous) that your daddy gets to experience this part of your life right now- everyday. I know it can be exhausting sometimes, and definitley trying on the nerves- but you will never be as young as you were yesterday ever again. I hope he knows how lucky he is.

Love,

Mommy

Thanks

Thank you for making me a mommy. Everyone needs something they can count on.

Pregnancy- Week 20.5 ish

Here I am- half-way through my second pregnancy. Looking back, the first part of the pregnancy rolled along quite quickly. I was so busy with tax season, the house hunting, jack, and everything else that I really didn't have time to think "I'm pregnant". I was waiting for the day when things would slow down and I would be truly aware of every passing day.

I have always felt there was a stigma that it was selfish to not like being pregnant. Like there is something wrong with you if you hate trying to heave yourself out of bed every morning, or fanangle and try to contort yourself when you try and get out of a car or chair or even off the freaking toilet (where you spend 89.987% of your day). So sue me if I do not like feeling exhausted everyday of my life. I have read more articles than I can count about how the second trimester is so wonderful and you have so much energy and all you want to do is run around and jump up and down and smile because you are SO awake. I am not awake. I am tired. I hurt, I am uncomfortable, I am moody, I feel handicap because I can't do whatever I want- god forbid I carry my own groceries to my own car because I am pregnant and obviously incapable. And, no I do not like gaining 50 lbs. If I see one more skinny pregnant woman in a magazine I am going to go postal (yes even more so than I am now, if you can believe that) Do not tell me all you crave is carrots and turkey on whole wheat toast. I DONT BELIEVE YOU! Do not take away the one time a woman is allowed to be fat, don't you dare.

Don't get me wrong, the moment that baby comes out and you meet for the first time everything you had to go through was completely worth it. Until then, however, I will moan and groan my way through cursing every step my sore and swollen feet take. I am sure this will not be my last pregnancy, and I will probably B&^%$ and moan the whole way through that one. So why do we put ourselves through it again and again? Because of the wonderful thing I like to call motherhood amnesia. And the instant little Grace is in my arms, the prior 9 months will seem but a dream. Somehow you forget everything you went through and how you felt- and the same goes for those sleepless nights following, because if that didn't happen I think the human race would have died out along time ago.

This little piggy cried "We we we" all the way home

Oh you cute little piglets- how could you cause so much turmoil within my life? What is wrong with you? Were you not aware of my pre-conditioned paranoias or my inability to rationally cope with end of the world prophecies and global epidemics? Have you not seen the movie "Outbreak"? Were you not aware that I saw the movie "Arachniphobia" at the tender age of 8 and could not sleep under my covers for 4 months in fear that if I did absentmindedly stick my feet under the blankets I would succomb to some flesh eating spider that was patiently waiting to eat me?

Sigh- looking back on the Swine Flu hysteria, I admit, perhaps I allowed myself to become obsessed with fear and swept up in the media's ability to scare me. It probably did not help that the day before the whole thing really exploded, my husband was watching a special on 12/21/2012. Deep down, I do not believe the world is really going to end on that day (with my luck it will be 12/22/2012 instead), but my heart can be convinced to beat out of my chest with an hour long session of people telling me how many other people predicted this thousands of years ago.

I suppose I have always had a slight inclination of "worst case scenerio" paranoia. Like, lately my inner ear has been jabbing a little bit- it is probably a brain tumor and not simply my allergy ridden sinuses. Things, however, have increased as since I became a mother and now that I am a mother of one and one on the way. Everything is more precarious and if I could have I would have locked my entire family in a germ free bubble last week to protect them from having contact with anyone anywhere. My husband mentioned going to a Pirate game with his friend and my first reaction was, "but what about the swine flu?". Obsessive- yes, overly paranoid- perhaps, but am I ready - you bet. I may not have 60 gallons of bottled water and 10 years worth of nonperishables in my basement,....or do I?

Month 20

Dear Jack,

Despite some rollercoaster ride moments with our family this month, you were definitely one of the biggest things that helped us see the silver lining and once again realize 'it could always be worse'. The biggest "setback" was your father losing his job to the poor economic climate we are presently inhabiting. Of course we were devastated and of course there were tears- but how depressed can you really be when bombarded with the constant presence of a 20 month old's ignorant bliss. God bless you and your constant requests for "hugs" and "kes-ses", your growing vocabulary and that freakingly adorable voice that tries to pronounce words, your arrogance for opening the child proof locks and then re-locking them upon request, the way your roll your eyes at me- who would have thought it was hereditary and not learned, the fact that I can ramble an entire paragraph and when I am done the ONLY word you seem to pick-up and repeat 16 times in a row is "shit" - or as you say "sheeet" (I really need to do a better job at remembering how much you are starting to pick up), the way you say "daddy" and "mommy", how your cry when I leave and how wonderful returning to your excited hugs are because they truly establish my every homecoming.

Among your ability to make us feel better, I also noticed another big change in you this month; your behavior. Ever since you stopped going to daycare, you have been a different child. You are more relaxed, content, you are not aggressive anymore and we are not finding ourselves having to contest with unbearable meltdowns every single night. Not only are you bonding with your daddy, but having him around every day has brought a sense of reassurance to your life. You are not competing with other children all of the time or having to defend yourself from your toys being stolen or for attention. It is a lot quieter at home, and that in turn has made you a lot calmer. I almost hope that something works out when this is all said and done and you do not have to go back to daycare. I suppose, with all things, time will tell.

Well, I should get back to the grind- but know this- you are always on my mind.

Love,

Mommy

The benefits of not working...

...reading to your son until he falls asleep. You can't do that at work.

Curve Balls

In a very sad and unexpected turn of events, Bill's business fell victim to the deteriorating economy and as a result was laid off last Friday. Completely unexpected and totally devastating. The past week was difficult emotionally. One minute we were hopeful, and the next I found myself tearing up. The unknown and lack of security of knowing what the future holds is the worst part. We are buying a house and another baby is on the way- it is never an ideal time to lose your job, but things like that make it a little harder to swallow.

Over the last week, as things have soaked in, I feel better. It is not the end of the world, and things will be fine. Rather than take a 5 year old tantrum and kick and scream on the floor, I decided to make a list of things that ARE good and completely out weigh this new development to force myself to be reminded of everything there IS in our lives to be thankful for.

1) We are healthy
2) We have a beautiful, funny, wonderfuly oblivious little boy whose ignorance to life around him helps us laugh and relax.
3) Daycare was one of our biggest expenses, and it goes with a job.
4) We will be financially ok while Bill searches for a new job.
5) We still have really good health insurance.
6) I still have a job (knock on wood).
7) We have family and friends and most importantly eachother.
8) We have a roof over our heads
9) We can still put food on the table
10)We are welcoming a new baby in September
11)We are still able to laugh, alot
12)We have gotten through A LOT worse.
13) We are still able to get the new house without putting ourselves in any type of comprimising situation.
14)We already live modestly, and will not have to learn to live without much.
15)Jack will be able to have quality time with his Daddy.

and on and on and on...

Month 19

Dear Jack,

Here we are- month 19- let's hope we all survive to see month 20. Who every coined the term "terrible twos" needed to include a footnote that said "and if by a year and a half you already find yourself wanting to play in traffic and cradling a bottle of kahlua as your cry yourself to sleep every night, substitute the word 'twos' with 'terribles'". It is like I have two children already. There is Jack, my fun loving goofball baby who loves to cuddle with his mommy and daddy and run and play and smile and pet bunnies and eat his dinner without a fight and go to bed without ripping off an arm. And, then there is Jack's twin brother Bert who's response to EVERYTHING is "No", who hits people in the face without any particular reason, who kicks the floor and screams and throws things when he does not get his way and refuses to go to sleep or eat his dinner and likes to torment bunnies for fun. Ok, maybe he doesn't like to torment bunnies, but he doesn't like to pet them. We try spanking sometimes, but usually that just results in you LAUGHING at us like this is all some big game we are playing. I personally prefer a rousing game of softball- but that's just me. So instead of spanking all of the time, we are trying "time-out". Time-out is the highchair that you do not use anymore because it is the only thing that will confine you in one place for two minutes. I am not sure if it is working, but, by golly we sure are making the effort.

I can not speak for him, but I am sure your father's brain and pysche are just as fried as mine. Just the other day, while I trying to get you to stop emptying my underwear drawer for the eighth time in a row, I became so frustrated that I yelled something I never thought I would ever YELL as a mother. "DO YOU WANT JELLY BEANS OR NOT?!?!?!?!" Your father laughed and asked, "Did you just yell at him, 'do you want jelly beans'". I did...I did. And, since I cannot have alcohol right now, I usually try and numb my twitching body with some watermelon sour patch kids or fruity tootsie rolls after you do to bed. My new gym membership will be coming out of your allowance.

I suppose it isnt all just fighting to get you to take your coat off when we get home every evening. There are just as many laughs and applauses. And, I realized this month just how much you really do love me and want me around. I had to go on an audit and was gone off and on for four days. Ever since I came back you have been my little shadow. Any time I leave or you even think I am leaving, you cry hysterically and crunch your hands for me to bring you with me. In fact, now when I drop you off at daycare I have to trick your attention away from me so I can leave, but I find out that you still cry hysterically for an hour after you realize I am gone. It is heartbreaking and yet in some sick twisted way- comforting. You have been in daycare since you were six weeks old, and one of my fears was that you would always want them more than me. There have been days when you have not wanted to leave there and have kicked and screamed all the way to the car and I told myself that you were just having too much fun- as I choked back tears. But, now, knowing that our time together is THAT important to you and that you do need me and want me and really miss me makes me realize that I must have done something right.That there is a bond between you and I stronger than even I could have ever imagined or ever hoped for.

Love,

Mommy

Establishing A Foundation

Today, after work, we are starting the physical search for a house to call ours- our own home. Our lease is up in June, and with a new baby on the way we DEFINITELY need more room. We are tripping over ourselves as it is and so I can not imagine adding another human being into the mix. We had originally planned on renting, because the thought of owning did not seem at all feasible. The thought never even crossed our minds as being an option. When we began having trouble finding rentals on our own, we enlisted a real estate agent. After meeting with a finance man- that is his official title of course- and seeing everything on paper, purschasing a house did not seem scary at all but actually extremely possible and realistic. The monthly payments for a mortgage, real estate taxes, and home owners insurance would be less that what we were expecting to pay for rent. Why throw all of that money down the toilet when you could at least be building equity. Plus, with the new home buyer credit of $8K given to you by the government, it made the decision even easier. We can take what we had put aside and use it as a down payment and then replenish it after we get the credit back.

When we left the realtors office that first night after discovering the possibilities and the realities, I cried. I do not believe everyone is entitled to own their own home, I believe it is a priveledge. I feel so blessed and so completely grateful that we are able to do something that I thought we would not be able to do for at least another 5 years. Knowing that Jack will have a home that is ours to grow up in and that when we bring our new baby home from the hospital, we will be bringing him or her somewhere we have established for their future means so much to me. The whole thought of it still feels like a dream, but I feel good about that. I am happy that I am humbled by this, because it means that I truly treasure and appreciate everything that we have.

Month 18

Dear Jack,

Nine days ago (just to provide an example of the friedness of your mother's brain- I had to use a calculator to help me figure that number out and I still do not feel confident that it is correct) you turned 18 months old. Just yesterday as I was getting ready for work, you joined me in the bathroom and proceeded to retrieve yourself a q-tip from underneath the sink. If you hadnt started to use is to clean your cheek, I would have believed you were much older than half way into your second year of life. FYI- when you start using them to clean your ears, people generally do not appreciate when you put them back into the q-tip box. And, you do not have to save them, that is why they put 400 in a box.

In other news, you are becoming quite defiant and bully-like. If it werent for the fact that another little one were on the way, I would probably still think yesterday when you waltzed into daycare, stole a toy from a little girl, and then punched her in the face when she wanted it back was kind of ridiculously funny- BUT not funny at all, not at all. I just hope we do not have to put your little brother and sister in their own enclosment so they can save their first black eye for a bar fight when they are 27. I guess this is normal behavior, especially since you have to present yourself as tough against the older kids at daycare. Your father and I are just having a hard time trying to decide how to discipline you. Do you smack back -CHILD SERVICES-, do a time out, sit down and ask you to talk about your feelings? When do we know when it time to use a certain method? For example, when can we start making you sit at the table until you at least attempt to eat what I made for dinner- and NO you cannot have goldfish and pretzels again, eat it or fall asleep not eating it. I know you understand A LOT, you prove that time and time again by your actions and words, but how much does that understanding take you when it comes to right and wrong and all of that other Jazz? It's as if I feel like if I do make you stop throwing your food on the floor when you do not want it then that means one day you will sell crack to kids on the street and live under a bridge in boulder, colorado while you eat thrown away chinese food out of a dumpster. I just do not want to do too much or not enough. I feel like when I finally figure out how to handle the stage you are in, you have already moved to the next. I am an anxious person naturally, and so my approach to motherhood is- of course- no different. I am impatient with myself, and I feel like because some things do not come as naturally as I had always imagined they should then that makes me below par as a mom. I want so badly for you to grow-up and when asked about your mother your first response not to be "oh her" and then you roll your eyes and begin to go off in a tangent in your mind about all of the ways I failed you. Just rememeber though, if you ever do, don't forget to remember all of the sponge bob I let you watch and radio stations I flipped through in the car until you bobbed your head in excitement.

Love,
Mommy

Number two already pacifies mommy's paranoia

This morning was my first official prenatal appointment for peanut number two. It was the relief to things I didn't even know I needed relief from. I just left the doctor feeling calm and yet giddy about what is to come. I am so happy I decided to stick with my doctor despite his change in hospitals. It really sounds like the new hospital is going to be even better. As opposed to Magee's 35 or more deliveries a day, Mercy only has about 7-10. I remembered what a stressor that was when I was being induced with Jack. They were not sure if they were going to be able to get me in because they were so busy that day and we were basically waiting for someone to push a kid out so we could take their room. You do not do that to am impatient pregnant woman. I just hope the food is as good at Mercy as it was at Magee...because I almost considered moving in it was so good.

Another wonderful happening was hearing the heartbeat! At only 9 1/2 weeks, that is rare. Apparently this child already recognizes my paranoia's and decided it was best for everyone to be heard. This also means that my uterus might not be backwards anymore WHICH MEANS I might not have to pee through a tube for a week!!! YAY! Here's hoping.

I was also worried about my weight gain. Random side note, I was reading "Fit Pregnancy" in the waiting room and there was an article that said the new American Medical Association's recommendation for weight gain and pregnant women is going to be 5-22 lbs. kjdsflkjflkjasdflkjsdflkjasd;fjas;oijrijtlkjwtlkjw oijjfslkjfsl

Sorry after writing that I had to remove my gaping jaw from the keyboard. THE BABY SHOULD WEIGH MORE THAN 5 POUNDS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! My eye is twitching. Anyway. I was worried about how much weight I have gained. Not only have I started to show quite a bit more than the first time around, but the past couple of weeks gravy has been substituted for salad dressing and most beverages. To my surprise I have only gained four pounds. That is a far cry from the 10plus I had already packed on by now with Jack. I guess gravy does a body good. Suck it American Medical Association.

Mommy Brain

Mommy brain- It is this mysterious disease that attacks the pregnant mother's brain and prevents her from functioning normally. There are actually studies out there that the hormones alter your way of thinking and that there may actually be possible SLIGHT brain shrinkage during pregnancy. I remember mommy brain during my pregnancy with Jack. I would do silly things like shave my right leg but forget to shave my left, put the cereal in the refrigerator, and my favorite was while I was making a cake I cracked the eggs and threw the shells in the bowl and the yolks in the trash can. Yay! This round of mommy brain is a little worse. Sure, I do little silly things, like, last night I caught myself putting the salt shaker in the fridge but I have noticed this brain disease seeping into my work. I make these silly mistakes. It is like when you take a math test and you are working on this really long algebraic problem and you get it wrong because you added two and two and got seven. Except you know that it obviously the wrong answer, but it happened. You had a brain fart. Well, right now my mind thinks two plus two is ALWAYS seven. My brain is always farting! I am not even sure how to end this post, because my brain decided it does not feel like thinking anymore. Brain fart.

Meal Go-Getter Etiquette 101

Let's say that you are in charge of going to get lunch for your family or friends. One of the people you are getting food for requests pretzels and apple slices with their sandwich. Let's say said establishment is out of these items. Do you simply forget getting them anything in addition and only bring back their sandwich? No, you get them a different item- perhaps another bag of chips that the establishment is carrying at the time. Who cares if you do not know what flavor they like. Obviously this person was VERY hungry to order two sides with their sandwich, so to come back with NONE and only a sandwich may result in them wanting to A) Cry B) Punch someone or C) Force this person to go to the grocery store so that they can get pretzels and an apple and then they find themselves buying a whole peanut butter and chocolate pie that they plan on eating with their emotions later on in the day or D) All of the above.

Who's fault is this?

So I watch the "Biggest Loser" sometimes- usually when it is the off season and there absolutely nothing else on. I like seeing the results and the before and afters of everyone- which is probably the only thing that keeps me hooked. Usually when I am watching it, I am eating a massive amount of junk food. A bowl of ice cream and a dozen chocolate chip cookies is most likely exactly what you should be eating while you watch 16 people work their butts off as they struggle with their over-eating issues.

ANYWAY, they always promote different kinds of food products. They will all be casually sitting around at breakfast as one of them pulls out a quaker oatmeal box and tells everyone how wonderful QUAKER OATMEAL is to help you get your day started-there is nothing like QUAKER OATMEAL. I'm cool with that- promote healthy options away! But, then, they went too far. You are probably why I am bringing this up right now. See, I go through a pack of gum a day. I have this crazy oral fixation where I MUST BE CHEWING ON SOMETHING AT ALL TIMES or my arms will fall off and I'll grow a third eye. Well, this week EXTRA was on sale, so I bought it. When I opened the lid it said something to the effect of "BIGGEST LOSER RECOMMENDS THIS AS A SNACK". When the hell did gum become a snack? As in, when the hell did it become ok to start including it in our daily meal plan. "For breakfast I had QUAKER OATMEAL and for lunch I had 4 pieces of EXTRA polar ice gum...yum..count me out for dinner, because I think that last piece put me over the top". How about we just learn to eat healthy and exercise and save the gum to freshen our breath....or, in my case, save our appendages.

He's just not that into you can suck it.

No spoilers heres. I went to see "he's just not that into you" with cheman yesterday. The ending of the movie was wrapped in a nice little bow, where all of the storylines- for the most part- came to a cutesy little ending. However, not before the movie completely portrayed women as crazy CRAZIES who only obsess about love and relationships and are either waiting by the phone for a guy to call of waiting for him to pop the question. I would like to say that I am not a feminist by any stretch of the imagination, and that I am a happily married woman. However, I did once date and I had crushes on guys so I know what it is like to have NO FREAKING CLUE what a guy is thinking about where you two might be going. All this movie does is say is that if you have no idea what is going on then nothing is. And, that all women do is obsess about every little nuance a guy does and that we go home after every first date and start planning our destination weddings. Hold on a second! First of all, I am not a desperate person, and I do not know ANYONE who goes out with a guy and comes home and starts choosing baby names. Second, the one thing they never thought to touch on in this movie was the fact that MAYBE JUUUUST MAYBE the reason women get so confused is because men play more games and add more drama to dates and relationships than women. Men always claim to be so simple and so straightforward- and if that is in fact the case, then why the hell do they just not tell you exactly what they want from the get go. Do not give a woman your number and take hers and tell her you'll call her and that the two of you should go out again sometime and not mean it. If you do not like her and you do not ever want to see her again, tell her. 97.8753% of women sit there wondering what is going on because men allow them to think there is something going on. So women turn out to look like desperate little freaks. And, if you aren't a desperate little freak, then you fall under the categories of control freak, wishful marriage freak, or conniving stealing husband freak.

So, maybe I took my reaction to this innocent romantic comedy too seriously, but all I did through that ENTIRE movie was whisper things like "women aren't THAT ridiculous" or "what the hell?" . And, then when I got home all me and my pregnant hormones did was be annoyed.

First Trimester Blues

I do not remember feeling THIS lousy during my first trimester with Jack. Yeah I was a little more tired, and maybe my emotions were a little amplified, but nothing like this. I could probably sleep all day long if I was allowed to. I have had to resort to a cup of...wait for it...regular coffee (waits for yelling). I have to...I can physically not get through some days without a late afternoon cup of coffee. And, because I am THAT tired, I am equally as moody. I do not mean to be, but I feel like I go around secretly set to kill at any point in time. And let's not forget the empty pit that has established itself as my stomach. So much for NOT gaining the 47lbs I did with Jack. I just ate a bagel and drank some hot chocolate and I could probably eat about three more bagels if I let myself. Do you have any idea how annoying it is to be constantly hungry and not want to be? This is shit. All I have to do is make it through these next four weeks and hopefully once I am out of the first trimester I will morph back into a human being.

On a lighter note, I am REALLY excited about this baby. So I guess if I go to jail 100lbs heavier for killing an innocent bystander, my new little bundle of joy will be all worth it.

Month 17

Dear Jack,

When I dropped you off at daycare this morning, you did not want me to leave and in turn that caused me to cry. I am not sure if it is the extra hormones streaming through my body or the fact that Monday through Wednesday I see you when we go to work/daycare and when I get home at 8:45 to put you to bed, and then Thursday and Friday and Saturday in the morning and evening. The only day I see you all day is Sunday. Mommy's job is a blessing and a curse. A blessing that helps us pay our bills and keep us a float, and a curse January-April because it keeps me from you and your father. Thankfully it is only for that period, but that does not make it any easier.

You are 17 months old, almost a year and a half. You have developed your own language, but have also started to put phrases like "bye bye daddy" together. You are always on energizer bunny mode and your hair is just as ridiculous as ever. You keep us busy and you keep us laughing.

The biggest development in our family right now is the upcoming newest addition. We were not planning on it, but I am really happy that you will have someone close to your age to grow up with. I am sure it will be a major adjustment, and you experience a shift in the way our family funs. I promise that you will still get our undivided attention as much as we can give it to you. There will be someone else that will rely on me a little more for a while, but you will always be my baby and I promise that no matter how many directions I am pulled I will always make time for you and will always be there to take care of you.

Love,

Mommy

Best laid plans are not always what is best for us.

I see these people that seem like they have it all- like everything comes easily for them and life is easy and they do not have to worry about a lot of the things I worry about day in an day out. That seems to be what we plan on in high school, and the beginning of college. That we are going to set ourselves up for a life of ease. My parents have two cars and a house and go on vacations and buy whatever they want, so will I. Then you make decisions, and the road you are on begins to wind a little- and then sometimes a lot. You feel like you are careening down a huge hill and your brakes are broken and you feel like you have absolutely no control. When I found out I was pregnant with Jack, that is how I felt. What am I going to do? How did I let this happen? I was supposed to finish college, be successful, and have a stable foundation set up for a family. I questioned god in those first few months. Everything that kept happening, what was he doing to us? How much more did he think we could take? Today, sitting here and looking back on the last 3 years I finally understand that God knew exactly what I was doing. I was not traveling out of control, I was just coming down for a safe landing.

Everytime I thought we would not get through something, things would happen to allow us to. I can not tell you how blessed I feel. How glad I am that my best laid plans did not work out. I am thankfull for the early lessons I learned, for the family I am growing, for the friends...the real friends I still have in my life, and the financial security that has been given to us. Sure we have bills and debts we are paying off, but there is always enough to get us through.

Now, there is a new baby on his or her way. We were talking about having another, but realistically new that affording two children in daycare was out of the question right now. But, God had different plans and a path was paved and here we are seven and a half weeks a long with another addition to our family. I was shocked at first and scared, but prayers were answered faster than I ever expected and now because of Bill's new successful promotion we are good to go for another baby. It is hard to think that things are not meant to be sometimes. It feels so good to be where we are, to know where we are going and to have the lessons of where we came from helping to shape the decisions we make. I remember the days when nothing seemed right, or it felt like everyone was passing me by, but if you are doing all you can then maybe your not lost. Maybe you are just traveling on a different path that is better for you, and one day you'll be able to look back and see the road you traveled and how much better you are for it.