Thoughts
Posts tagged M
39 weeks 1 day
Jul 8th
6 days until my due date.
My hormones are driving me to the edge. I have become very resentful and angry. All I want to do is sleep or shop. Sleeping takes me away from everything. Well… not quite everything. Last night I had a dream about all the “signs” of going into labor. I dreamt that I went to the bathroom and while I was sitting on the toilet I lost my mucus plug. I woke up mid dream convinced it was one of those dreams like when you dream the phone is ringing and when you wake up you realize the phone is ringing in real life. I prayed when I woke up mid mucus plug dream. I prayed while I waddled to the bathroom. I prayed when I sat down on the toilet…. it wasn’t a phone ringing dream. I have not lost my mucus plug. The fact that I still have that slimy, bloody plug in me pisses me off. I don’t think this baby is ever going to come.
The nursery is getting more “finished” every day, that said if Baby is waiting for it to be done before she makes her debut I am more than willing to be done. Basically I keep adding crafty crap too keep me busy.
Other areas where I am losing patience is with M. His fourth birthday is on Saturday and still he has only pooped on the potty twice. I sit in the bathroom with him and read books. I hold my laptop on my lap while Diego plays on Netflix watch instantly. I bribe him with toys and treats. And still nothing. NOTHING! He will be four in two days and he won’t poop on the potty. I have failed.
I don’t know if there is something called prepardum depression, but if there is I think I have it. I can’t seem to shake this mood swing. I am feeling down, defeated, defensive and cranky. I know it is bad because sitting next to my laptop right now is an untouched and melting bowl of ice cream. I guess that is one thing to be happy about, I was able to resist a bowl of ice cream… at least my midwife would be proud of that.
Seals!
Jul 5th
Seals were the highlight of our Como Zoo trip last week. The boys couldn’t get enough of them. I love this shot because of their matching hats and you can tell just by their body language how excited they are about the seals.
Killing Time
Jun 30th
While waiting for baby we are spending the days filled with fun activities for the boys. Yesterday it was the beach.
Learning Colors
Jun 10th
We live in a suburb of the Twin Cites. Our neighborhood is predominantly white and my family is white. We are so white in fact that 85spf sunblock isn’t always enough to keep us from burning. We are glow in the dark white. You could hold a white Crayola crayon next to our skin and we would match it perfectly. Most of the neighbors that the boys play with sport the same skin tone with only slight variations.
All of that said, there is a wide variety of race in our area. The boys play with children of different ethnicity when we go to the local YMCA, we see all colors of the rainbow at Target and all the other local watering holes. In their wonderful innocent wisdom my boys have never said anything crude, asked any questions or even commented on the different skin tones of others around them. I love that about kids. I think it is a testament to nature vs. nurture. Kids don’t care about skin color until someone tells them too. Every kid is just a kid until someone points out the differences between them. I love and envy this about children.
M has known his colors for a while now and it is one of his favorite things to talk about. He prefers orange over blue and likes yellow more than red. I always knew the day would come when M would ask why one of his friends was a different color than he was, I just thought that he could bask in his innocence a while longer. I really did believe that an almost 4yo wouldn’t label people, just objects.
I believed this until yesterday. I parked on my side of the garage like usual and when I went to unbuckle M from his car seat, M looked up at me with bright excited eyes and stated, “Mom you are white!”
I froze. I had a van full of groceries. This wasn’t the time. I wasn’t prepared to have this conversation. My husband and I hadn’t had this discussion. We hadn’t decided how to handle this yet. Knowing I couldn’t avoid those bright excited eyes, I paused, collected my thoughts and replied to my son, “Yes, Mommy is white.” I figured, we call a penis a penis. We use the correct terms and don’t use baby names for most things so my bewildered pregnancy brain figured that the truth would be the easiest path.
M smiled proudly at his correct statement and agreed, “Yup. Mom is white! Mommy is white and Daddy is…. BLUE!”
I tried to remember if my husband was wearing a blue shirt that morning, but the boys hadn’t seen T yet that day. I was stumpted until I followed M’s gaze.
Hanging from the rafters of the garage were T and my bikes. Mine is white. T’s is blue.
My son is still an innocent color blind boy. I let go a breath that I didn’t know I was holding and started to laugh. “Yes, Daddy does have a blue bike. You are right!”
As I retold the story to T that night I realized that I was right, children are color blind when it comes to skin. They will not be that way forever and I hope that with my boys they stay unaware as long as possible. Nurture won in this case. It was me who was making a big deal out of nothing. M will ask me the skin color question some day, I know I can’t avoid it forever but for now I am perfectly happy that my bike is white and T’s bike is blue.
Iced Tea, please?
Jun 1st
All I want to do is drink iced tea all day long. I don’t drink it all day long, but I do drink it. How bad can it really be at this point? My Canadian friends drink wine throughout there entire pregnancy “to help them relax, calm baby nerves and sleep.” If they get to have a glass of Merlot, why can’t I have a couple glasses of iced tea when it is 90 plus degrees out?
Come to think of it, do pregnant women outside the U.S. get the okay to drink iced tea? Is it just an American thing? Why is it that every other country is more liberal with their pregnancy rules and regulations? (not to mention more liberal in everything else!) What makes American pregnant women so up tight? Are we scared into being good little pregnant soldiers? Is it the constant judgment that other women cast on pregnant women in America that makes us fall in line and march like the private school boys in Dead Poets Society?
I was judged my first pregnancy for being to young. I was 22 years old when we were surprised with a positive sign on the little stick I peed on. I put on a ton of weight with that pregnancy because I eat my emotions and I felt entitled to over indulge. By the sixth month my wedding ring didn’t fit anymore. When I walked into a public place, I could see women look at my belly, glance at my empty ring finger and shake their disapproving heads. With my second pregnancy I was judged for having my kids too close together. M was 6 months old when we got pregnant with P. Women had a hay day with my lack of responsibility in the bedroom. I found myself explaining that both boys were conceived while on birth control. I was defensive and angry. After explaining that my kids were conceived on birth control the women became even more judgmental. In fact, my mother-in-law went as far as to say that, “I waited to have children until I was ready and I wanted them.” That is right. For the record, my mother-in-law wanted her kids, I didn’t want mine.
I thought this pregnancy would be different. I am 26 now. I am not too young. We planned this baby, so I actually “wanted” this baby. But last week when I went into the liquor store to buy some Everclear to put into P’s ears to help dry out his swimmers ear (yes it does work. It works way better than any over the counter treatment you can buy. Make sure to drop a few drops of warm olive oil into the ear after the alcohol.) women actually pointed at me, my belly and my mini van where M and P were strapped in and gasped. Not just gasped, but pointed and whispered and gasped. I was surprised that they didn’t take out their cells and snap a pic and upload a photo of me and the brown paper bag I was carrying to worldsworstmother.com!
Seriously, what harm would two or three glasses of iced tea cause my baby girl? Tomorrow I am 34 weeks pregnant. I doubt there is enough time for her to sprout a 3rd eye or an extra limb. I saw the sonogram. She already has all her fingers and toes. So what if she kicks me in the ribs a little more? I can handle the trade off of a few bruised ribs for a refreshing glass of iced tea!
So next time I am in Target stocking up on iced tea or ordering a tall sweaty glass of iced tea with a slice of lemon at a restaurant, please don’t judge. I am sure that if I lived just 5 hours north across the Canadian border not only would I get Universal Health Care, but I bet that I wouldn’t be judged for sipping on a glass of iced tea either.
The Wonder and Magic of Technology
May 31st
M has become fascinated with my cameras. He loves to stand behind me and wave his hand in font of the camera or my phone and watch his hand on the display screen. I believe he gets this fascination from me. Every since I was little I was baffled by technology. Even now as I type this post, I have no earthly idea how what I am typing goes from my screen to the world wide web and then somehow gets on to your screen. My husband has tried to explain, but I don’t really care to learn. To me television will always be transmitted via tiny little specs of colorful dust like on Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory. I used to yell at my little sister for standing in the way of that dust because I thought she would ruin the picture on our TV. I think M will be like that. He doesn’t have the desire to know how everything works like his father and his little brother. P is 2 1/2 and already you can see his wheels spinning as he deconstructs something trying to figure why and how it does what it does. P is just like my husband. I prefer to stay in the childlike wonderment like M. I don’t want the magic to be ruined. I don’t want to see the wizard behind the curtain or the puppeteer pulling the strings. M and I will always have this in common, P and T will always be the opposite. I can’t wait to see which way the scales will tip when Baby Girl comes along. Will she prefer magic to logic? Who will she be like, M or P, T or me? Or will she be a breed all her own. It won’t be long before we find out! Six and half weeks and counting,
33 weeks
May 28th
P is finally coming around to the idea that a baby is coming. At 2 1/2 he doesn’t really get what was going on, but now he is starting to get excited about my big belly. He is constantly trying to lift up my shirt to give the baby very slobbery sticky kisses. He even lifts his own shirt and points to the baby in his belly. I am not as worried about his reaction to the baby as I initially was. That said, I would still bet some serious cash that he will have issues with me holding the baby. I am just hoping that all the time we have spent cuddling a baby doll and gently touching stuffed animals will help him restrain from physically hurting Baby Girl and instead just throw a tantrum at a safe distance.
M is excited about the baby because he knows my sister, his favorite aunt, will be coming to stay for a few weeks. My sis will be arriving 2 weeks before the due date. I can’t wait for her to come. She is so great with the boys and keeps them occupied, entertained and drains every bit of crazy energy they have. I plan on taking full advantage of her being around and will be finishing up all my “nesting” projects and taking lots and lots of time to rest. My sister will also be in charge of the boys and Lucy during the home birth and will also be around to help with the transition of 2 to 3 kids. I don’t know what I would do with out her. She leaves a trail of dirty clothes and doesn’t clean up after herself, but the trade off of having an extra set of hands around leading up to, during and after the birth is well worth it!
Later today I have a check up with the midwife and I am bracing myself for a good scolding. About 2 weeks ago I lost my appetite. I don’t ever lose my appetite. If I wasn’t pregnant this would be the best diet ever because all I can seem to stomach is fresh fruit and raw veggies. However, I am pregnant and as I have mentioned before, my midwife is a nutrition Nazi. I know I have not been eating her required amount of protein and I definitely have not had a balanced diet.
I am getting things done in the nursery and my birth kit is in. My goal for this long weekend is to get the tile done in the entryway and maybe even get the base trim back up on the main floor… the trim is a pretty lofty goal, but I am setting my sights high now that I have started writing a Life List, inspired by Maggie.
Baby Girl Delusions
May 20th
This afternoon P pulled down his shorts, ripped off his diaper and ran to the potty. He proceeded to lift not only the lid, but the seat and then pee! Folks, my 2 1/2 year old peed in the potty!!!
I applauded, cheered, hugged and kissed him. I then went to grab a pen and mark the big occasion on their milestone calendar (don’t be impressed. It isn’t nearly as organized and scrapbooky as it sounds. Every year we make a photo calendar for the boys for Christmas with all of the best candid pics from that year. Actually, we don’t even make it. I just compile the pics, upload them to Shutterfly and type in my credit card number. That is their milestone calendar) and before I could even cross the ts in potty, M screamed, “MOMMY THERE IS POOP ON THE FLOOR!” That is right. In the 2 minutes it took me to praise and document the blessed event, P had gone upstairs to my bedroom and pooped on the floor.
The boys are in their room now and I am ignoring the stomping and giggling and pretending they are asleep. To soothe my nerves and bring my angered and frustrated heart back down to a safe level, I surfed the web for cute little girl clothes.
I found this dress at Children’s Place and fell instantly in love. With the boys if I see I white shirt I turn and run away. It isn’t worth the risk. It isn’t worth the cute to time-scrubbing-out-stain ratio. But something in my naive, dreamy, fantasy world of raising a little girl makes me think that a sweet little white dress would be a wonderful thing to buy. My little girl would never spill blueberries down the front of a white dress. My little girl would never dig for worms in a little white dress. And my little girl would sure as hell never lift up that dress, pull down her diaper and shit all over my bedroom floor.
I have 8 weeks until my due date. I plan to live in this fantasy world to get me through the home stretch of pregnancy. Every time I question why we chose to have a third child as my two monsters fling their poo or dump a shovel full of sand down my shirt, I am going to think of that little white dress and my perfect little girl.
Makes Me Smile Everytime.
May 20th
sometimes, this photo even makes me laugh. I don’t know what it is about this pic, his stance? his crooked hat? the fact that he calls this his “Tiger Sweatshirt” just because of the orange stripes? I just don’t know. But it never fails to make me smile.
