Miscellaneous thoughts

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I actually spent half an hour scouring internet dictionaries and thesauruses for kindergarten "n" word homework because the only word I could come up with on my own was "nipple"...and I didn't figure the teacher would like that. But given my personal opinion of the teacher, I was really tempted.
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Added to the list of things I never thought I would say...
"Keep the anteater out of your mouth."
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I'm really excited to get our first family portrait. But I'm embarrassed (and sad) that we didn't even try to find a way to incorporate Alex and Travis. It's just never easy.
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There was a second when Steve presented Myles to me in the operating room when I thought he looked (too much) like Alex. Even now, I see the occasional similarity. But I do not have the urge to call him Alex...which is a relief. I have, on more than one occasion, called him Sam. So I guess he's destined for therapy no matter what.
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I'm not much for "birth stories." I think they are filled with dreadfully boring details that are irrelevant in the grand scheme of things. Nobody really cares that it took the anesthesiologist three tries to get my spinal right...Or that I almost hyperventilated and/or puked on the table...Or that Myles' heartrate took a nosedive in the seconds before the doc made the initial incision (creating an atmosphere of some urgency that I did not notice because I was about to hyperventilate and/or puke)...Or that Steve and I both completely lost our composure and openly wept the moment we heard Myles cry for the first time (I can't speak for Steve, but I know my tears were more than just tears of happiness). I really don't know why I feel compelled to share these details. But there they are.
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Myles weighed in at 6lbs 12.5ozs on Tuesday. He weighed in at 7lbs even today. Yay for the boob juice!
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Yes, I DID post a couple posts I had previously written but saved in draft form. I was tempted to delete them but then read a comment from Rosalind and felt like I should share it all...even the ugly bits. So I hit publish. Luckily, things have leveled out since I wrote those posts.

I may still have to tell the story of the evil nurse who made me cry...or the war between the formula people and the breastfeeding people (all supposedly medical professionals)...or the amazing surgical nurse, Angela...or how the universe thought it funny to put us in the NICU with two sets of twins and one set of triplets...or how much I love my OB (did I tell you he CALLED me on Thanksgiving to check up on us?)...or what an amazing man my husband is...

But right now I just want to process the experience in my brain before I hang it out there for the world to see.
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Sam asked to go to the cemetery on Wednesday...to ride his bike. I think I'm going to have to introduce him to the idea of parks for recreation...soon.
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I highly recommend the caramel swirl cappuccino from Dunkin Donuts.
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I have Christmas shopping underway! I am so impressed with myself!

Now I just need to weasel a few ideas out of my brother and my dearest husband.
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Let me let you in on a little secret. Maternity leave is BORING. Don't get me wrong...I love snuggling with the Squeaker. But he sleeps a lot right now and that leaves me with too much time on my hands. I may actually do some WORK at home today. *gasp*
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There is a tech toy for everything these days. I think this is an interesting idea. Much easier than trying to remember to write things down, I suppose.
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Merry Freaking Christmas

"Be quiet. Don't talk. We're going to go and have our picture taken and at least PRETEND like we're a happy family...even if we can't stand one another."

Yeah...so the adjusting is going REALLY well.

I told you she was full of it

So I can't drive for two weeks and Steve has to do kindergarten drop-off and pick-up.

Wanna guess how it went yesterday?

Drop-off...he walked Sam into school and left him standing in the hall outside his classroom. Something we were specifically told was a no-no...all children are to wait in the gym. Did anyone scold him?

Pick-up...he went to the gym and Sam wasn't there. An unidentified woman approached him and asked him if he was there to pick someone up. He said he was there for his son, Sam, a kindergarten student. The lady told him to check in Sam's classroom. And he found Sam WAITING IN THE CLASSROOM for him.

THE.CLASSROOM!

NOT.THE.GYM!

After all that grief over waiting IN.THE.FREAKING.GYM.

AND Steve was told that the pick-up time has been moved up to try to get the kids out of school before the buses arrive for the bus-riding students. Apparently they are trying out a "new system."

Yeah.

Without telling anyone.

I swear this school is TRYING to make me crazy.

One week...and some thank yous

Myles is one week old today. My God, I can't even believe our lives have been blessed by this little creature we (Sam and I...we're still working on Steve) have affectionately nicknamed the Squeaker because he makes the most adorable squeaky noises when he wants attention. Every minute that passes brings more peace to this house. There are still adjustments to be made, but I think they are going about as well as they can.

Myles weighed in at the doctor today at 6lbs 12.5ozs. The doctor confirmed our suspicions that something "isn't right" about the hospital's claim that Myles lost over a pound since birth (it was actually overnight, but I guess they didn't think I was paying that much attention). "Babies that lose that much just don't look as good as he does...you expect them to be...floppy...sickly." In my rather frazzled state at the hospital, I do remember one nurse telling us that it could POSSIBLY have something to do with the fact that there was a difference in the scales used to weigh him (one in delivery and one in special care). Who knows what the real story is. I'm just glad that (1) it's not as bad as the hospital staff made it out to be; (2) it's not all the fault of my breasts failing to produce enough; and (3) he hasn't lost any more since we've been home. Now we just need to get him to gain a little bit. I know breastfed babies gain at a slower rate than formula fed babies, so I'm not too stressed (particularly since we're temporarily supplementing with high calorie formula for preemies). But it still is something to worry about. We go back on Friday for a weight check.
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Now for the thank you's...

We have some amazingly kind and generous people in our lives. Some of them have been with us forever. Some of them were brought into our lives as a result of pain and heartbreak. It is our pleasure to share this happy stretch with every one of them.
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Thank you Mom for the beautiful roses and for bringing us turkey...twice.


But most of all, thank you and Dad for taking such good care of Sam last week. He had a great time...and he loves his Spiderman boots.
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Thank you to Kate for the adorable Gymboree outfit. I'd post a pic, but it's in the wash as we speak. Oh...wait! You can find anything on ebay! It looks like this (with matching hat and corduroys...soooo cute!)...


And thank you for the snake in a can for Sam. His laugh just makes me laugh every single time. Steve has reserved the disappearing ink squirter for warmer weather use outdoors (party pooper that he is).
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Thank you to M, H, S and L for the wonderful gifts for Myles...




...and Sam (now I get to ask HIM 300 questions...I LOVE it!)...


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Thank you Cynthia for the beautiful flower/gift arrangement! It came with an adorable hooded bath towel/washcloth set, neck wings for the carseat, and a little teddy bear.

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Thank you to Rachel for these adorable outfits and the lovely card. I love you, my friend...and we have no worries or issues between us.

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...and exhale

We came home yesterday and I have been walking around in a daze ever since. It's like I walked away from one life so long ago...and now I'm supposed to walk back into it as if no time has passed. The house feels like it belongs to someone else (though the dirty dishes are still clearly mine). I told Steve it's almost like living in a snow globe. Two years ago my life was shaken up and all the pieces flew around without rhyme or reason. Now we're supposed to pick up our previous life...only nothing is where we left it.

I was so excited to leave the hospital. I moved quickly...packing up every single thing in under an hour (no small feat for a woman who just had major surgery and can't even cough without causing incredible pain). And then we were all in the van...ready to go. And I said, "Take me home...take US home," and started to cry. In the deepest, darkest parts of my heart, I didn't expect this day to come. I was so used to the pieces of my life flying around uncontrolled that I didn't think things would ever settle again.

I remember making that drive home twice before. Along that highway with its hills and rivers...beautiful fields and trees in May...warm and bright...everything full and green...and so terribly sad. I had lost hope. I thought I would never again see it realized. But as we drove home yesterday on a cold and rather dreary November day...with bare trees and the slightest ground-cover of snow...I felt hope spring to life within me. It seems odd that it should wait until the deal was done to make its presence known. But I suppose you can't force these things.

And so I had Steve pack up the doppler last night while I cleared space for diapers and wipes and a breastpump on my bedside table. I had every intention of packing it away myself, but the minute I picked it up, I couldn't move. I just sat there on the bedroom floor staring at that little piece of technological plastic in my hands and marveling at the fear resonating from it...as if it somehow retained my emotions during all those days and nights spent worrying. Just a few short days ago I held it to my belly and held my breath. But now the object of all that love and fear now sleeps sweetly in his crib at arm's length. I can exhale.

We drove home past the cemetery...and my eyes filled with tears I thought I had exhausted long ago. Sleep sweet, my boys. Two pieces of my heart in their beds and two pieces of my heart on that snow covered hill. Fear finally banished to someplace where it can not torture me with the same intensity (hopefully ever again). Love and joy and something akin to contentment again taking up residence in my soul.

There are things that seem to be in the wrong place. And I think there will always be things with which I cannot make peace. But there are also things that seem to be just where they should be. I just know that even though I didn't have control over much of it, I can still find happiness in it if I'm lucky.

I wish I had my camera ready

Projectile green poop on your husband (and your husband's reaction) is always funny.

Sadly, the camera was not at the ready and I missed the photo opportunity.

Not without my baby

I'm living in a bad made-for-tv movie.

Prematurity.
"Questionable" lung development (turned out to be nothing...grrr!)
"Questionable" weight loss (if you're not feeding him anything...DUH!)
"Questionable" billirubin levels (again...gotta FEED him!)

I've done it before. I'm not doing it again. I am NOT leaving this hospital without my baby in my arms.

Another day. Again. Only now I can be discharged. So even though I'm not leaving without him (insurance will pay for one last day so I'm taking it), there is some disappointment and guilt.

My body is generally a failure at the pregnancy thing. And it is apparently not interested in compensating for that shortfall by making any grand post-partum achievements. So, Myles is held hostage while I talk to my boobs and try to convince them to produce enough milk to sustain him. And I try to make people understand why I feel so strongly about this (without creating the impression that I am just a weepy hormonal mess...or a complete bitch).

This motherhood after loss thing...it ain't for the weak.

post-partum emotions

There is so much to say. So many thoughts and emotions swirling around like the first gentle snowfall of the season outside my hospital room window.

I was so scared that he wouldn't make it out into the world alive. But that was easy compared to what came next...and what continues to come.

I faced the very real possibility that fear would dictate my decisions...that I would ultimately hurt him out in this world anyway. I didn't want that responsibility. Luckily, I trusted my doctor with everything in me and I felt reasonably safe in allowing him, and his associates, to make the decision that early delivery was the best idea. In this, I was mercifully granted a reprieve from responsibility. I was allowed to be swept along in my fear...leaving them with their expertise at the helm of my ship. I have never felt more cowardly or more unsure. I feel guilty about that.

But that was just the beginning. How strange...to have that first time mom feeling even though I have some experience in this role of mother. I wasn't prepared to feel THIS inadequate...this undeserving...this lost. My role has been defined for me for the last two years and I have, if I do say so myself, gotten pretty good at playing my part. But now there is something different...something more...something less...than what I was before.

It would seem that the hole would get smaller with the addition of a new baby. But if I'm honest with myself, it has gotten quite a bit larger...that space where Alex was supposed to be. All those unrealized hopes and dreams...for all of us.

Sam is a completely different child now. Five years old and already hardened a bit by the realities of life and death. No longer dreaming of sharing his toys and making space on the bed for the baby to share. Now remembering those that didn't come home and trying his best to put all the pieces together into something that makes sense.

All the old questions are back. Is this real? Did we just get lucky this time? Did we do something to deserve losing two years to grief? What could we possibly have done to deserve losing two much-loved babies before this one?

The words I didn't have the courage to say before now. Surely, the universe couldn't be so cruel as to take three babies from us. Almost comical now in their affirmation of a "happy ending." But I know better. I know that life balances precariously on the head of a pin for all of us. And the best we can do is hope that we're one of the lucky ones.

Smiles

So beautiful

Baby Myles Update

Hi Everyone, this is Cathy's husband Stephen. I am proud to announce that Myles Fisher entered the world this afternoon at 3:51 PM He weighed 7 pounds 15 ounces. He was 19 and 3/4 inches long. He and mom seem to be doing well. Unfortunately he is in the "special care" nursery due to some breathing issues. The Doctors believe that he has some fluid in his lungs, and hope that his breathing will clear up on its own in the next few days.

Inevitability

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So yesterday I said to Steve, "Just think, this time next week we could conceivably be holding a new baby."

He replied, "It's inevitable at this point...undeniable."

I laughed sarcastically and said, "Nothing is inevitable with me."

And because sick humor is alive and well in our house, Steve snorted, "Well, either way, we'll get to hold him.
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The crib is moved into our room.
We bought a glider and assembled it and placed it in our room.
The diaper stacker is stacked with diapers.
The "coming home outfit" is washed and dried.
The burp cloths are stored for easy access.
All the necessities are in place.
Myles has his Christmas ornament for the tree.
Hope is here and I think she's here to stay.
Fear is also here...but I beat him into submission in a corner every so often.
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It's never good news when the OB calls you himself.

Mild preeclampsia.

We may just hit the eject button tomorrow (November 20th).
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Back off Fear or I'm going to get nasty with you!
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People are starting with the wanting to know "when it happens." I feel like I should prepare a phone tree so I'm only responsible for calling one person. And, quite honestly, I'm not even sure I can handle calling one person. This is going to get interesting...I can tell already.
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Working at home

My, but Market Day Florentine Stuffed Chicken is yummy...for breakfast.

Does the cat always cruise the countertops when we're not home?

Decent coffee...that is not Hazelnut...can make a day better...even if you have to do the dishes first to get a clean mug and spoon. Which makes me wonder...WHY does she always choose Hazelnut? The flavor I like the least? Maybe she's sending me a message? She hates me, doesn't she?

This desk chair is just as uncomfortable as the one at my office.

I successfully dodged the inevitable five-year-old questions about saving my urine this morning. I wonder if I'll be able to avoid that conversation for the entire 24 hours? (the answer is no...I could not)

I'm supposed to be working. I want to be sewing. But my head hurts and I'm not doing either. Yes...NOW I have a headache...which makes me worry...which makes my headache worse...which makes me worry...you get the picture.

The headache necessitated my calling my husband home early from his boys' night out (for which I am truly sorry)...at which time he started acting all drill sergeant-ish and ordered me to call L&D. I did. The very nice doctor told me to not be so stupid and to take some Tylenol because my BP numbers hadn't been so high on Wednesday that this kind of headache should result (ok...I inferred the stupid bit given my history of sinus headaches when there is a change in barometric pressure...which there was last night...I'm an idiot). So I took the Tylenol and locked myself in a dark and quiet room for an hour...after which I felt almost human. AND, since I always give the bad stories, I have to say that I was highly impressed when the doctor called me back to check on me. Seriously, how cool is that? Anyway...Myles is still moving around in there (and was during this whole episode...which made me want to throw up even more), so it seems like things are ok. Of course, the whole scenario took it's toll on my already fragile emotional state...so it's taking some time today to find an even keel again.

I have listed my work at the office and am ready to hand it off whenever the doc says it's time. *gulp*

Parent-teacher...humiliation?

So I'm no expert on parent-teacher conferences. This was my first. But since I couldn't sleep at all last night due to my weekly pre-appointment freakout, I had some time to think about it and pinpoint exactly what bothered me...

I have never seen my son so humiliated in all five plus years of his life.

The notice said to bring our child with us. So we did. Immediately upon arriving in the classroom, the dog and pony show began. The teacher trotted out laminated cards with little tests of skill on them...I know how to count to ten...I know how to spell my name...I sit quietly and listen in class...[insert sound of tires screeching to a halt right here]...

"Sam has been making some poor choices in who to imitate in class. I have one little boy who has behavioral issues and, unfortunately, Sam is following his lead and imitating his behaviors. I would like it if you could work with him at home on making better choices regarding who to imitate."

Poor choices? Behavioral issues? Who to imitate? What the...?!?!

Sam knew exactly what she was talking about. After the conference, when asked who he was imitating who was misbehaving, he offered up a name without a moment of hesitation. I don't doubt this is happening. In fact, I've been surprised that I haven't heard anything like this up until this point. My son tends to go for the laugh...the joke...the way to make everyone laugh. He is in his heart of hearts a class clown (he gets that from both his parents...neither of whom can stand for awkward silence in any conversation). Sam does it for the attention...because it is a way to get everyone to like him. And yes, I'm sure part of it has to do with our family's story...it is a way for everyone to smile and feel better when we all otherwise feel like crap. And yes, I'm sure part of it has to do with the much-anticipated arrival of Baby Myles. Truth be told, I have lived each day with the expectation that some sort of notice would be coming home eventually...but none never did (though now I am wondering if the whole wait-in-the-gym thing wasn't more about SAM'S behavior than mine).

But I have to ask...where the HELL has this teacher been? What happened to the system, very clearly spelled out in the orientation materials, that would keep us informed as things progressed...so we could intervene as necessary as his PARENTS?

I froze and couldn't speak...couldn't ask the questions that were racing through my mind.

Thankfully, my husband had a better head on his shoulders at the moment and asked, "Is there something we should have been getting from you to indicate that this was a problem?"

Her response? She has 45 "of them" and she just can't "do that for every student." Besides, she "didn't think it was such a problem" that it needed addressed immediately.

So her goal was to ignore it as long as possible...bring my unsuspecting son to parent-teacher conferences...ambush him by sharing this information with us in his presence...and humiliate him into compliance.

I wanted to cry. Actually, I want to cry now, remembering his little face with all the embarrassment and confusion so clearly written there. She didn't even TRY to balance it with kudos. She asked HIM what HE thought he did well...she didn't offer positive reinforcement of her own volition. I am...what is the word?...horrified.

I don't mind working with my son on the things he needs to improve upon. As I told the teacher, we have recently had behavioral issues at daycare and have had to address them by instituting a system of rewards and punishments (a system that really works IF you know there is a problem). I KNOW that this is an area where he needs work. But this method of presentation seriously broke my heart. His beloved teacher...who he trusted...did it this way deliberately...because it was convenient for HER. Can there be ANY valid reason for doing this to him?

Further...better choices on who to imitate?!?! I don't want my son imitating anyone! I want him to grow and learn and be himself. Yes, I want him to learn basic manners and appropriate classroom behavior...but I don't want him to get there by pretending to be someone else! My son is unique and special and I will NOT stand for ANYONE telling him that's not enough...that he should imitate another.

I am at a loss. Well and truly at a loss.

Gimme a PEE...!

As if I haven't been having enough fun, let's add a possible diagnosis of preeclampsia to the mix, shall we? There was protein in my urine (+1 for anyone that means anything to) and my blood pressure was high at first (first reading 130/90...second reading just about my normal at 120/70). They kept asking me if I've had any headaches or blurred vision and I told them no, not this week. Of course, now I have a whopper of one and I just want to go have a good cry.

Repeated the hemoglobin A1c today. Tomorrow I get to collect my urine for 24 hours. Tuesday (20th) I have another appointment scheduled. Sunday (25th) I have an amnio (at 8-freaking-o'clock) and a c/s scheduled if the amnio results prove satisfactory. It's just a matter of time before we pull the rip cord.

Myles is perfect. Biophysical profile score of 10 out of 10. I think it's clear that it's MY body that is falling apart...and I'm about done.

Any bets on when this will actually happen?

hee hee

I just realized I sent my son to school with pasta for his lunch...and no fork.

I just can't wait for parent-teacher conferences tonight.

Pressure

You have to learn to pace yourself
Pressure
You're just like everybody else
Pressure
You've only had to run so far
So good
But you will come to a place
Where the only thing you feel
Are loaded guns in your face
And you'll have to deal with
Pressure

Everyone is so kind.

Supportive.

Loving.

And I feel like my head is going to explode. I'm back in that place where all the responsibility is mine. And it is a heavy burden. I don't want to let everyone down again but I have no real influence on the outcome.

I have a feeling like I should be able to DO something when there is nothing to be done. I know that it was during these two weeks when Alex was dying inside of me and I didn't know. I know that I don't know what is going on inside of me today.

People are waiting for Myles. So am I.
People are hoping for the best. So am I.
People have made an emotional investment. So have I.
Nobody can do a damn thing about any of it...

...neither can I.

I'm no different than anyone else in this. And despite everyone's positivity and kindness, there are no foregone conclusions but this one...if I fail, the fault (times three) will be mine...and my family will once again be sucked into that black hole of grief and disappointment.

Rather than feeling supported by the people who mean so much, I feel isolated and alone. Expectations are hard to live up to when you do have control or influence, never mind when you are being randomly blown about by the winds of the universe. I hope I land in the right place. I hope we all do. There is nothing for me to do but hope.

I don't want to sound ungrateful. I am incredibly grateful for all the love and support I am being given. It is just that the pendulum takes that momentum and swings to the fear side with just as much force...leaving me unsure how to process it all.

Television privileges restored

Is it a good or a bad thing when your child is writhing on the floor in front of the television singing, "TV...I love you...I love you so much..."?

After finding my son playing inappropriate computer games on a site I previously assumed to be family friendly, I invited Playstation2 into my home. I'm sure everyone expects me to complain about my husband and my son playing games too much...but that's not at all what I'm thinking. What am I thinking?

I will have something to do on my maternity leave! Yes!

Double wow

I told the office that I needed pizza for lunch today. So most of us, including the boss, went to the pizza place next door for our "regular." It was pleasant. We talked about my co-worker's baby shower (that I missed yesterday while sitting at the doctor's office...boo!). And then the boss said something that made my jaw drop...

He will be allowing co-worker to bring her baby to work with her for three months. Upon review at that time, provided it is working, he will allow co-worker to bring her baby to work with her for a total of six months. He told me that, in fairness, he plans to extend the same courtesy to me.

I'm sitting here smiling and crying.

Can you imagine?

Co-worker has, by all accounts, an incredibly easy-going baby. I'm not sure what I will end up with. Granted, Alex and Travis are very quiet and well-behaved (sorry...sick humor is all I've got), but Sam was a terror with the acid reflux and the screaming. I don't know that it will work for us with Myles...but we will definitely have to see.

I'm thrilled at the possibility. And I'm absolutely dumb-struck by the kindness my boss is showing. He has asked me several times how I am doing and seems genuinely concerned that things "work out" this time. And this is the same man who, when I first interviewed to work here, TOLD me I would need to take six weeks off with the baby (I was pregnant with Sam at the time) "because that is what is best." I had a grand old rant about that one...I'm sure my mom remembers. I remember saying, "Why would I want to work for that MAN?!?!" And now I don't know how I got so lucky.

Now I guess I need to get busy circulating his re-election petition.

wow!

I have a title!

I'm honored to announce that at last night's Board of Directors meeting of the MOM Project, I was voted in as Bracelet Program Director.

I'm thrilled to be able to help the project in any way and consider it my privilege to hold an official position within the organization.

And yes, this means I will be hitting up all my blog readers for donations again in the near future.

Everybody's got one (or two) in their family

This is almost as funny as the conversation overheard in the waiting room at the OB's office this morning where the expectant mom was on the cell phone trying to talk grandma through the process of operating the DVR on her digital cable. How do I know it was grandma? Because when the expectant mom hung up the phone to go in to the exam room area, I heard her mutter, "Dang, grandma, I swear..."

33w4d

Ultrasound:
Weight = 6lbs 8ozs
Measuring 35w5d
Fluid = good
Practice breathing movements seen
Kidneys & bladder appear to be functioning
Still think it's a boy

NST:
Reactive

Repeat next week

Note to self: Following your ultrasound, you must check in AGAIN with reception for the NST and regular doc appointment...when receptionist says, "You're all checked in," she doesn't really mean it and you will sit there for almost an hour falsely believing you are the next name to be called.

Cranky, sad, irritable, weepy...and hungry

~I just Googled "blog topic ideas" and still can't think of a thing to say.

~This morning I had a meltdown because my husband, who so kindly did a boatload of laundry yesterday, did not wash my pants for work. My insane brain turned it into something he did deliberately to hurt me. Yeah. So I'm loads of fun.

~While in the grocery store yesterday, I honestly thought that Thanksgiving was this week. I blame my mother for asking me if I wanted cheese potatoes or mashed potatoes for Thanksgiving dinner. My mind just can't plan that far in advance without attempting to speed up time. And really, cheese potatoes...now I can't think of anything else. But I was so far gone while in the store that I even bought supplies for my famous cheesecake dessert! Cheese potatoes...cheesecake...Thanksgiving...living baby. Let's get moving!

~I almost told my coworkers to shutup today as they debated the manufactured drama that has resulted from the planned baby shower for another coworker. I DID finally say, "I don't care...point me in the direction you need to me to go and I will go."

~Since I'm confessing stupid stuff...I have been forging my son's homework log. He gets homework that takes all of a half hour to do (in one sitting). The instructions tell us to do it in daily 10 minute increments, which would require 70 minutes...30 minutes of actually doing something and 40 minutes of pointless repetition (Seriously, the teacher is HUNG UP on rhyming! It is making me crazy!). The whole thing annoys me (oh please...SHE annoys me), so we do it our way and I lie on the paper that is returned to the teacher on Tuesdays...and I don't care.

~I'm still undecided on the daycare thing. While I know I would love the time (and the peace and quiet), I'm concerned about Sam's escalating acting out while at daycare. He clearly needs something that they are not providing (supervision/direction/guided activity). We'll see what happens. I'm not ready to decide just yet.

~Cheese potatoes...need I say more?

Miscellaneous thoughts

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Our son tried to punch someone yesterday. Our son lied to his teacher about having a coat to wear yesterday. Our son (and his parents) are now dealing with no tv privileges for a week. Let the acting out begin. Fun times.
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I know that the character of baby's movement changes as there gets to be less room in there (that's why we count them and aren't asked to describe them). But it is disconcerting nonetheless. I keep thinking, what if there is another infection and he's getting sick? Of course, I have none of the symptoms I had with Alex, but I can't stop my overactive imagination from going there. And then that leads me to the invention of symptoms. I have all these bruises and lumps from the injections...so I worry about that...is it uterine tenderness due to infection? is it ligament or scar tissue stretching? is it just an elbow in a bruised spot?

I described it to my husband as the beginning of a downward spiral that will continue for the next 23 days. I don't think he's looking forward to the increased madness. But quite frankly, neither am I.
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My office manager asked if we were having a baby shower for me BB or AB (before baby or after baby).
I said, "After...let's just be sure it lives, ok?"
She flinched and said, "Oh, don't make me cry."
Don't make YOU cry? Seriously?
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Sam didn't need the coffee can on Thursday after all.
I still get brownie points for the effort, right?
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I mailed off a bunch of MOM bracelets yesterday. I always feel such a mix of emotions with each shipment. On the one hand, I'm glad I can create something positive out of my crapfest of experience. But on the other hand, I see all those grieving moms...all those lost children...and it just makes me so very sad.
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I'm in need of mommy advice. Sam enjoys daycare. In fact, he prefers daycare to kindergarten. No surprise there, since daycare is pretty much free play all day while kindergarten is a very structured learning environment. So here's the thing... If I take leave with the baby, do I have Sam stay home with us or do I send him to daycare like normal, or do I send him to daycare on a reduced schedule? I don't want to upset his world completely, but I don't want him to feel excluded either (and selfishly, I would love to have him home with me). I'm leaning toward a reduced daycare schedule...maybe one day a week. But then I think maybe I'm idealizing the post c-section scenario and I'll really just want him out of my hair as much as possible. Thoughts? Suggestions? Ideas?
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I bought the jumperoo on sale on Amazon (with free shipping) and it arrived Thursday.
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Three days ago, when I told him that we had to spend the weekend rearranging furniture to accommodate a baby, Steve said to me, "So this is really going to happen, huh?" All I could manage was, "Let's act like it is and hope so."
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I apparently cannot read. I packaged up my Secret Pal package to send to the United Kingdom...in a "Domestic use only" box. So, I bought some brown wrapping and disguised it as an international box. I then had to pay an arm and a leg to ship it. While I enjoyed shopping for my pal, I think I will limit myself to domestic pals from now on (or else I will go broke on shipping alone).
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My dear friend, Cynthia, her husband, and her little boy, drove down from the frozen tundra of Canada for a little visit yesterday. We met up in Erie, PA and had a lovely lunch together. I would have invited them to my house, but the dust/dog hair bunnies are currently threatening to take over and I was just too embarrassed. I'm not sure the husbands had such a great time, but they were very sweet and entertained the kiddos while we gabbed.
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I have projects galore in the works (hence, my lack of posts). I will update with photos sometime soon. I promise.
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The road to super-mommyhood

So...yeah...the coffee can...

I forgot it was in the van this morning until I got to work (after dropping Sam off at school).

There was a moment when I considered just pretending I didn't see it and continuing on my merry way into work.

But then I imagined my son's face in class when everyone else brought out their coffee cans to work with.

Yes...in that moment I chose to continue limping down the path to super-mommyhood.

I turned around and drove BACK to the school and dropped off the damn coffee can.

I may never achieve super-mommy status...but I'm damn sure not going to give up this soon.