Just finishing dinner, Ellie headed for the toys. "Wait," I cautioned, "you need to go wash your hands first!"
Ellie stomped her little foot, then whined a retort, "But, I already licked 'em!"
Thursday, June 30, 2011
Tuesday, June 28, 2011
Scanned Pictures
I have a few pictures that I needed to scan in . . . the first two are Annie's t-ball pictures from this year.
(Annie's the second kid from the left on the top row).
Then on Saturday we went to our local hospital's "Health Fair". The kids had so much fun, bandaging teddy bears, seeing fire trucks, eating slushies in recovery, and seeing a pseudo-Elmo (who taught me once again why the characters in Disneyland NEVER talk -- it just sounds SO wrong. No adult male should try and mimic Elmo's voice -- it's beyond creepy). :-) Isaac was so excited to see Elmo, you just can't tell from this picture.
In other news, the pregnancy is going well -- I got to hear the heartbeat again last week, and I'm officially entering my second trimester. I'm hoping to leave the horrific nausea behind . . . I have glimpses of feeling better, but we're not there yet. The girls talk a lot about 'Baby O' and have started kissing my tummy. A lot.
Isaac wasn't feeling well Friday -- and a little worse Saturday and Sunday. Just a cold, but it's thrown off his sleep again. Unfortunately, Greg, Annie, Ellie and I all woke up with it today. The girls are whiny, moody, sulking, snot-factories, and Greg and I are congested, overly tired, grumpy parents. It's summer, right? What's up with everyone I've been talking to being sick?!
Monday, June 27, 2011
Almost a Year Old . . .
With him being a little over a week away from being a year old, I thought I'd throw together a bit of an update about Isaac:
Three teeth are in . . . one more fighting its way through. Still pretty grumpy and pissed about this.
Taking steps. All over the place. Up to 6 or 7 at a time. Never walking to Mom or Dad, but he will walk for the vacuum cleaner or to his toy bus.
Talking. The boy is a chatter box -- he babbles whole paragraphs. The vast majority unrecognizable. Although, occasionally he nails a word so right-on it's amazing (like while counting in the tub this morning with his sisters, Annie said the word 'seven' and Isaac mimicked it so perfectly you would've thought the kid was counting along. I don't imagine he'll say 'seven' again anytime soon though.)
He still loves patty cake and Elmo. The two together is about as good as it gets.
Sharing. He's CONSTANTLY handing us soggy cheerios or goopy puffs to eat. We have to palm it, pretend to throw it in our mouths and he squeals and claps. It's disgusting and adorable.
Loves going down his slide -- this freaks me out a little. He only gets the 'feet first' position down about half the time.
He's obsessed with trying to get up the stairs. He loves going up them. Gets really, really angry whenever I try to show him how to turn backwards and go down the stairs.
He wakes up around 6AM or so every morning. This is not my favorite thing. But he goes to bed at 7:30 every night, and that I do like.
Three teeth are in . . . one more fighting its way through. Still pretty grumpy and pissed about this.
Taking steps. All over the place. Up to 6 or 7 at a time. Never walking to Mom or Dad, but he will walk for the vacuum cleaner or to his toy bus.
Talking. The boy is a chatter box -- he babbles whole paragraphs. The vast majority unrecognizable. Although, occasionally he nails a word so right-on it's amazing (like while counting in the tub this morning with his sisters, Annie said the word 'seven' and Isaac mimicked it so perfectly you would've thought the kid was counting along. I don't imagine he'll say 'seven' again anytime soon though.)
He still loves patty cake and Elmo. The two together is about as good as it gets.
Sharing. He's CONSTANTLY handing us soggy cheerios or goopy puffs to eat. We have to palm it, pretend to throw it in our mouths and he squeals and claps. It's disgusting and adorable.
Loves going down his slide -- this freaks me out a little. He only gets the 'feet first' position down about half the time.
He's obsessed with trying to get up the stairs. He loves going up them. Gets really, really angry whenever I try to show him how to turn backwards and go down the stairs.
He wakes up around 6AM or so every morning. This is not my favorite thing. But he goes to bed at 7:30 every night, and that I do like.
Monday, June 20, 2011
Told You He Liked Elmo . . .
Now that his sisters know that "Ehmo" is Isaac's new favorite word, they found him their old Elmo toys from the basement . . . and this is what Isaac looked like in bed tonight when I went in to check on him . . .
Furry Red Milestone
So, it's official. Isaac has a first word. I always find this such a tough thing -- pegging milestones. Like when does a baby start to crawl? The first time they make forward progress while up on hands and knees? When they get the hang of it? When they can get around purposefully? 'Cause with my kids, those things sometimes span WEEKS. What about walking? Isaac's taken one or two steps here and there, but is nowhere near walking on his own. But, his very first step was probably close to a month ago.
And first words. Don't get me started on first words :-) I'm kinda hard on my kids on this milestone -- I don't count it 'til the word is fairly clear, other people would recognize it, and it's consistent. Isaac's been saying "Mama" and reaching for me for months. But he also says "Mama" when he wants a toy, some food, comfort, attention, etc. He's looked across the room, caught his Dad's eye, and yelled out, "Da!" But, he only really did that once and "Da da da" is babbled dozens of times a day to his toys, sisters and push toy. One time we were throwing the ball around, and he chased after it, got it and thrust it into the air with a triumphant "BA!" But hasn't referred to a ball as a 'ba' since. He babbles constantly, and he often responds with sounds that sound like the words you'd expect to hear from him. ("Thank you" is a big one, we've had three seperate times where people have responded "You're welcome" to Isaac after handling him something and then him responding with a happy babbling that sounds strangely like 'thank you.') But, I've still been waiting for a consistent first word to put in the baby book. And I think we have it. The other day, Greg and I took Isaac shopping for new pajamas. Isaac saw a red pair of Elmo pajamas and shouted, "Ehmo." Coincidence? Maybe. But then this morning, Ellie was watching Elmo's World, and a happy Isaac threw his hands together, bounced around, kicking his legs, and said, "Ehmo!" three seperate times. Annie looked up, surprised, and squealed, "Mom! He said Elmo!"
So, his first word is Elmo.
Which made me happy. My little boy has a consistent first word. And I find it mildly embarrassing. :-) I feel a strong need to explain . . . he doesn't 'watch' television! He's not even a year old, I don't sit him in front of the TV. He occasionally catches approximately 30-90 seconds of 'Elmo's World' when Ellie's watching it at 6:40 in the morning (since they're both up and I'm trying to nurse him and keep Ellie entertained at the same time). We point out Elmo on shirts, in books and on TV, 'cause Isaac's always like the red furry monster, and his sister Ellie is a big fan. But I never imagined it'd be his first word. It was pretty freaking adorable though. But don't judge me that my kid's first word was a television character :-) I'm already a bit self conscious about it in the first place. I'm sure 'Mama' will become a staple word around here sooner or later . . . :-)
And first words. Don't get me started on first words :-) I'm kinda hard on my kids on this milestone -- I don't count it 'til the word is fairly clear, other people would recognize it, and it's consistent. Isaac's been saying "Mama" and reaching for me for months. But he also says "Mama" when he wants a toy, some food, comfort, attention, etc. He's looked across the room, caught his Dad's eye, and yelled out, "Da!" But, he only really did that once and "Da da da" is babbled dozens of times a day to his toys, sisters and push toy. One time we were throwing the ball around, and he chased after it, got it and thrust it into the air with a triumphant "BA!" But hasn't referred to a ball as a 'ba' since. He babbles constantly, and he often responds with sounds that sound like the words you'd expect to hear from him. ("Thank you" is a big one, we've had three seperate times where people have responded "You're welcome" to Isaac after handling him something and then him responding with a happy babbling that sounds strangely like 'thank you.') But, I've still been waiting for a consistent first word to put in the baby book. And I think we have it. The other day, Greg and I took Isaac shopping for new pajamas. Isaac saw a red pair of Elmo pajamas and shouted, "Ehmo." Coincidence? Maybe. But then this morning, Ellie was watching Elmo's World, and a happy Isaac threw his hands together, bounced around, kicking his legs, and said, "Ehmo!" three seperate times. Annie looked up, surprised, and squealed, "Mom! He said Elmo!"
So, his first word is Elmo.
Which made me happy. My little boy has a consistent first word. And I find it mildly embarrassing. :-) I feel a strong need to explain . . . he doesn't 'watch' television! He's not even a year old, I don't sit him in front of the TV. He occasionally catches approximately 30-90 seconds of 'Elmo's World' when Ellie's watching it at 6:40 in the morning (since they're both up and I'm trying to nurse him and keep Ellie entertained at the same time). We point out Elmo on shirts, in books and on TV, 'cause Isaac's always like the red furry monster, and his sister Ellie is a big fan. But I never imagined it'd be his first word. It was pretty freaking adorable though. But don't judge me that my kid's first word was a television character :-) I'm already a bit self conscious about it in the first place. I'm sure 'Mama' will become a staple word around here sooner or later . . . :-)
Monday, June 13, 2011
Well Child Checkups (a month late)
We've been a bit busy lately, so we just got around to getting the girls in for their annual check ups. Annie got to do an eye check and everything for Kindergarten, and she got her blood pressure taken. Ellie didn't. She was pretty miffed about it. Ellie helped Annie cheat on the eye exam though, by yelling out one of the shapes (on the second to bottom row) that Annie couldn't quite make out. Looks like Ellie's vision is in good shape too. :-) I had to drag her down the hall another several feet to prevent her from further throwing off the results.
Everything looks good healthwise with both kids. The doctor suggested never ever mentioning potty training to Ellie (the most stubborn child ever) and just wait for the day she comes walking out of the bathroom in underwear. She took Ellie aside and told her she's a big girl now, and nobody can tell her when or where to go to the bathroom, that only she can decide that. BUT, that preschool was starting soon and reminded Ellie she can't go to preschool in diapers. Please, don't let this backfire. :-)
Turns out we were a bit premature taking Ellie on the Matterhorn, since she measure at 34.5" (1/2" shorter than the height requirement at Disneyland), but this is up to 4% on the charts! (She was 2% last year). As far as weight goes, she's actually put on 3 lbs. in the last several months and finally cracked 29 lbs (fully dressed, but still.) This actually put her up to a whole 33% on the charts. Of course, this all meant that her BMI went up. According to those oh-so-accurate charts, she's amazingly overweight and borderline obese. I would've never guessed Ellie was so grossly overweight, what with the fact she's three years old and we can't find any 24 month old pants that'll stay up on her diapered butt. I keep worrying that when we do get her in underwear, we'll have to put her back in 18 months shorts or just put her in dresses all the time :-) The doctor laughed when she saw the charts and said Ellie's the furthest thing she's seen from overweight, and commented on her amazingly muscular build for a girl so small -- she guessed it had something to do with the fact Ellie had not stopped RUNNING FROM ONE SIDE OF THE ROOM TO THE OTHER for the whole 20 minutes we'd been in there. Annie also checked out great -- a bit taller on the charts than she's been before, up to 21% (from 13% last year) and her weight stayed about the same around the 65th percentile. Annie was also tested on her ability to hop on one foot, write her name, drawing a picture of a person, and Annie threw in reading the "Medical Office Building" sign, just to show off. My children were passed off as talented, adorable and healthy. And nobody had to get shots.
We're done for another year.
Everything looks good healthwise with both kids. The doctor suggested never ever mentioning potty training to Ellie (the most stubborn child ever) and just wait for the day she comes walking out of the bathroom in underwear. She took Ellie aside and told her she's a big girl now, and nobody can tell her when or where to go to the bathroom, that only she can decide that. BUT, that preschool was starting soon and reminded Ellie she can't go to preschool in diapers. Please, don't let this backfire. :-)
Turns out we were a bit premature taking Ellie on the Matterhorn, since she measure at 34.5" (1/2" shorter than the height requirement at Disneyland), but this is up to 4% on the charts! (She was 2% last year). As far as weight goes, she's actually put on 3 lbs. in the last several months and finally cracked 29 lbs (fully dressed, but still.) This actually put her up to a whole 33% on the charts. Of course, this all meant that her BMI went up. According to those oh-so-accurate charts, she's amazingly overweight and borderline obese. I would've never guessed Ellie was so grossly overweight, what with the fact she's three years old and we can't find any 24 month old pants that'll stay up on her diapered butt. I keep worrying that when we do get her in underwear, we'll have to put her back in 18 months shorts or just put her in dresses all the time :-) The doctor laughed when she saw the charts and said Ellie's the furthest thing she's seen from overweight, and commented on her amazingly muscular build for a girl so small -- she guessed it had something to do with the fact Ellie had not stopped RUNNING FROM ONE SIDE OF THE ROOM TO THE OTHER for the whole 20 minutes we'd been in there. Annie also checked out great -- a bit taller on the charts than she's been before, up to 21% (from 13% last year) and her weight stayed about the same around the 65th percentile. Annie was also tested on her ability to hop on one foot, write her name, drawing a picture of a person, and Annie threw in reading the "Medical Office Building" sign, just to show off. My children were passed off as talented, adorable and healthy. And nobody had to get shots.
We're done for another year.
Sunday, June 12, 2011
Ellie
This morning there were about 20 stupid magnets on the floor in front of the refrigerator. I'd stepped on a couple, and frustrated I called out to Ellie, "Can you come in and pick these up while Mom cleans up breakfast?"
"No . . ." Ellie calls out from the other room.
Greg, who was on his way out the door for a meeting, told Ellie, "Ellie, go pick up the magnets or go sit in time out for three minutes."
Ellie groaned, sighed, and rolled her eyes, then angrily shuffled over to the base of the fridge, plopped herself down and started picking them up. I left the room to put something away, when about 20 seconds later I hear a voice call out, "MOM? Can I just go sit in time out . . . "
"No . . ." Ellie calls out from the other room.
Greg, who was on his way out the door for a meeting, told Ellie, "Ellie, go pick up the magnets or go sit in time out for three minutes."
Ellie groaned, sighed, and rolled her eyes, then angrily shuffled over to the base of the fridge, plopped herself down and started picking them up. I left the room to put something away, when about 20 seconds later I hear a voice call out, "MOM? Can I just go sit in time out . . . "
Friday, June 10, 2011
Creative People
I had been talking with someone recently about how Ellie's middle name, Sophia, comes from a great-great-some-number-of-great's grandmother. Curiosity got the best of me tonight, and I pulled out the family history album.
Turns out that Sophia is Ellie's great-great-great-great-great-grandmother. Sophia Kellogg was born in 1828, and would go on to give birth to Irinda, who had Jennie, who had Helen, who had Kay, who was my Mom's Mom. Then my Mom obviously went on to have me and then Ellie's the latest in the line. So, I figured it out, just how many greats were in the picture.
But then, as always when I pull out the family album, I can't help but become engrossed in the names and people who came before me. I love some of the names I've come across. When my Grandma Kay was born, she had two cousins born at around the same time, who were named Ray and Fay. I've been harrassing my sister Talina ever since . . . our babies will be three months apart, what names can we rhyme?! :-)
There were the twins Elbert and Wilbert, who pose in a picture with their nephews, Pennell and Parnell. (Pennell being my grandfather).
The four sisters who all had 'v' in their names: Belva, Elvira, Verona and Olive.
Apparently the 'themes' are big in my family, as we have our A(nnie), E(llie), I(saac) vowel thing going (although it really did start out accidentally!) So I got a few new ideas for 'O' names we could possibly use for our new baby from my family history: Olive or Orville. Surprisingly, Greg's not jumping at either of them.
If we opened it up to all vowels (just from within my Mom's side of the family) we could go with: Irene, Upham, Elvira, Adelia, Ella, Almer, Amasa, Amanda, Edward (there's a line of like 7 or 8 Edward's in a row in our family tree), Albert, Anderson, Anders, Ingeborg, Elizabeth, Esther, Emerson
If we left the vowel theme altogether but stuck with family names, we could pick from such awesome choices as: Petronella, Movell, Phylinda, Cordelia, Sophronia, Spicer, Moses, Rhoda, Lucinda (who's full maiden name was Lucinda Blood), Spinda (Sophia's daughter), Lemar, Parley, Prudence, Burns, Morrel, Bethia, Gunhild, Niels, and of course, the 'V' names that weren't started with vowels, Verona or Belva.
But to this day, my favorite names ever belonged to my great-great-great grandparents on the other side of my family. Wilmurth LaMaude married Mahonri Moriancumer (those are their first and middle names). I am convinced that they met and fell in loved, based at least in part on the fact that they both had tremendously horrible names. :-)
Seriously, these people were creative -- you don't come across names like these every day! :-) (Unless you're indexing names of pioneer stock or something, of course.)
And people thought my daughter's names were 'unique' (Annalise and Elliana) . . . I guess it's just in my blood! :-)
Turns out that Sophia is Ellie's great-great-great-great-great-grandmother. Sophia Kellogg was born in 1828, and would go on to give birth to Irinda, who had Jennie, who had Helen, who had Kay, who was my Mom's Mom. Then my Mom obviously went on to have me and then Ellie's the latest in the line. So, I figured it out, just how many greats were in the picture.
But then, as always when I pull out the family album, I can't help but become engrossed in the names and people who came before me. I love some of the names I've come across. When my Grandma Kay was born, she had two cousins born at around the same time, who were named Ray and Fay. I've been harrassing my sister Talina ever since . . . our babies will be three months apart, what names can we rhyme?! :-)
There were the twins Elbert and Wilbert, who pose in a picture with their nephews, Pennell and Parnell. (Pennell being my grandfather).
The four sisters who all had 'v' in their names: Belva, Elvira, Verona and Olive.
Apparently the 'themes' are big in my family, as we have our A(nnie), E(llie), I(saac) vowel thing going (although it really did start out accidentally!) So I got a few new ideas for 'O' names we could possibly use for our new baby from my family history: Olive or Orville. Surprisingly, Greg's not jumping at either of them.
If we opened it up to all vowels (just from within my Mom's side of the family) we could go with: Irene, Upham, Elvira, Adelia, Ella, Almer, Amasa, Amanda, Edward (there's a line of like 7 or 8 Edward's in a row in our family tree), Albert, Anderson, Anders, Ingeborg, Elizabeth, Esther, Emerson
If we left the vowel theme altogether but stuck with family names, we could pick from such awesome choices as: Petronella, Movell, Phylinda, Cordelia, Sophronia, Spicer, Moses, Rhoda, Lucinda (who's full maiden name was Lucinda Blood), Spinda (Sophia's daughter), Lemar, Parley, Prudence, Burns, Morrel, Bethia, Gunhild, Niels, and of course, the 'V' names that weren't started with vowels, Verona or Belva.
But to this day, my favorite names ever belonged to my great-great-great grandparents on the other side of my family. Wilmurth LaMaude married Mahonri Moriancumer (those are their first and middle names). I am convinced that they met and fell in loved, based at least in part on the fact that they both had tremendously horrible names. :-)
Seriously, these people were creative -- you don't come across names like these every day! :-) (Unless you're indexing names of pioneer stock or something, of course.)
And people thought my daughter's names were 'unique' (Annalise and Elliana) . . . I guess it's just in my blood! :-)
Monday, June 6, 2011
Family Home Evening & Buffalo Poop
Tonight was Family Home Evening -- the kids were so excited. (Well, Annie & Ellie -- I don't think Isaac cared much.) Annie helped Daddy fill out the 'chart' . . . it was decided Ellie would pick the song (or as Ellie put it, "I will sing the song for you"), Annie got to say opening prayer, Daddy was doing the lesson, Mom made the dessert (and oh my goodness, can I just tell you how much we highly recommend these?!), which left Isaac in charge of the activity. We all figured he'd want to do Patty Cake. So, it was all decided. We gathered our little family in a circle in the front room and asked Ellie to pick the song. "Buffalo Poop!" she excited offered. (In Yellowstone last year, Ellie and Uncle Cody would point out all the bison droppings and excitedly sing a song of their own making, that goes, "Buffalo poop! Buffalo poop! Buffalo poop, poop, poop!") Annie helpfully offered, "Um, maybe we could sing 'Jesus Wants me for a Sunbeam'?" "Nope! Buffalo Poop!" an enthusiastic Ellie reiterated. "Give said the Little Stream?" I asked. "No, Buffalo Poop!" Ellie confirmed again. I think I hear the words, "Buffalo Poop!" no less than 20 times a day. She even told me her diaper was so stinky the other day 'cause she ate too much Buffalo Poop. She's a child obsessed.
Uncle Cody would be so proud. :-)
Uncle Cody would be so proud. :-)
Saturday, June 4, 2011
Patty Cakin' Baby
Isaac LOVES playing Patty Cake, and it's become a new obsession. He also loves feeding himself. This is when the two come together when he's overly tired, teething and grumpy. Enjoy!
Oh, and you can kinda see this in the video, but Isaac now FINALLY has a tooth. In came in this last week -- just in time to turn 11 months. I think there's three others closely following, but then again, 'closely' could mean three months, just like last time . . .
Oh, and you can kinda see this in the video, but Isaac now FINALLY has a tooth. In came in this last week -- just in time to turn 11 months. I think there's three others closely following, but then again, 'closely' could mean three months, just like last time . . .
Wednesday, June 1, 2011
Sleep Talker
Ellie's been waking up a lot at night lately. There's nightmares of cows pouring water on her, and tigers and the occasional monster. Tonight, it was only 9:30 or so the first time she woke up upset.
"Mom!" she cried from her bed, still mostly asleep, "Mommy!"
"What is it?" I quietly ask as I crawl into her bed with her.
"Mom?"
"I'm here baby . . . what's wrong?"
"Something . . . " long pause as she falls mostly asleep again, then a sudden, "smells."
"Something smells?"
"Yeah."
"Um . . . what smells, Ellie?"
"Snow White . . . " long pause again as she drifts off.
"Snow White smells?"
"Yeah. Smells like . . . " asleep again.
I sit there, wondering how long I have to wait 'til I crawl out of bed again.
The her eyes fly open, "Snow White smells like dinner." She's out like a light again.
"Snow White smells like dinner?" I whisper.
She sleepily answers, "Yeah, like dinner."
Then she's asleep again. For good. (Or, until midnight or so, is my best guess.)
Weird. :-)
(Add to the frequent night wakings due to Snow White's odor issues and water tossing cows, Isaac's also dealing with serious teething issues (and a possible ear infection, I'm thinking of taking him in again, 'cause his level of 'angry baby' is off the charts, and overly-tired-and-nauseous-first-trimester-Hilary is possibly not dealing with screaming-all-freaking-day-long-Isaac as well as she'd like to.) He went from FINALLY sleeping through the night (well, until 5:30AM, at least, but I'll take it) to waking up every 2-3 hours all night long. It's like they're conspiring against me. I'm not sure to what end, 'cause they may not realize this, but it's not like their life will get suddenly super awesome or fun if Mom ends up institutionalized. But for some reason, they're co-conspirators in the great 'sleep-deprivation-torture-campaign-against-Mom&Dad-of-2011.)
"Mom!" she cried from her bed, still mostly asleep, "Mommy!"
"What is it?" I quietly ask as I crawl into her bed with her.
"Mom?"
"I'm here baby . . . what's wrong?"
"Something . . . " long pause as she falls mostly asleep again, then a sudden, "smells."
"Something smells?"
"Yeah."
"Um . . . what smells, Ellie?"
"Snow White . . . " long pause again as she drifts off.
"Snow White smells?"
"Yeah. Smells like . . . " asleep again.
I sit there, wondering how long I have to wait 'til I crawl out of bed again.
The her eyes fly open, "Snow White smells like dinner." She's out like a light again.
"Snow White smells like dinner?" I whisper.
She sleepily answers, "Yeah, like dinner."
Then she's asleep again. For good. (Or, until midnight or so, is my best guess.)
Weird. :-)
(Add to the frequent night wakings due to Snow White's odor issues and water tossing cows, Isaac's also dealing with serious teething issues (and a possible ear infection, I'm thinking of taking him in again, 'cause his level of 'angry baby' is off the charts, and overly-tired-and-nauseous-first-trimester-Hilary is possibly not dealing with screaming-all-freaking-day-long-Isaac as well as she'd like to.) He went from FINALLY sleeping through the night (well, until 5:30AM, at least, but I'll take it) to waking up every 2-3 hours all night long. It's like they're conspiring against me. I'm not sure to what end, 'cause they may not realize this, but it's not like their life will get suddenly super awesome or fun if Mom ends up institutionalized. But for some reason, they're co-conspirators in the great 'sleep-deprivation-torture-campaign-against-Mom&Dad-of-2011.)
Tuesday, May 31, 2011
"That's a Bad Word"
I remember the first time I said a 'bad word' in front of a kid. I was having a conversation, when suddenly my friends' child, who was sitting next to me, gasped and said, "You said the 's' word!" I was shocked, "No, I didn't!" I gasped back. Not only is that not a word I routinely throw out in random conversations, but it's most definitely not something I'm gonna say in front of a young child! He glares at me and says, "Yes, you did, you said," then dropping to a whisper, "stupid."
I stood there for a second, and it kinda took all I had not to argue with a six year old that that was quite possibly the dumbest (or stupidest) thing I'd ever heard -- that's not the 's' word. That's not swearing.
And yet, here we are, years later and I hear at least a few times a week from my children, "Mom! Stupid's a bad word!"
Here's the thing. I don't think 'stupid' is a bad word. I think there are some words that we should teach our children not to say, then there are words we should teach them to use judiciously. And yet, here I am teaching my kids not to say the word 'stupid', 'cause I don't want them to be the 'foul mouthed' child at someone else's house. I don't want another adult correcting my child in public, "Don't say stupid, that's not nice." So, for now, we've just told them not to use the word stupid. Which has backfired horribly on me, 'cause I'm constantly being reamed for my usage of this pseudo-swear-word.
But seriously, some things are stupid. And I want my children to understand that. And I want them to know how to use the word appropriately. Not just put a kibosh on a completely legitimate, useful word. Should I allow my children to ever call another person stupid (even possibly one who is being stupid) . . . no, I don't think so. I wouldn't allow that, it would fall under 'name calling', which is something I'm trying to teach them not to use. (Even if Ellie was calling people 'Bobo Monkies' last night). But running in the street. That's just stupid. Trying to balance a wildly out of whack budget without touching on military spending but wanting to cut PBS, that's just stupid. I want my kids to understand that some things are just bad ideas, and in fact, they're stupid. But apparently, I can't let them say it without people calling them on it and telling them not to use bad words. Don't words have the power we assign them -- do we really need to 'create' new bad words? Don't we already have enough? I get that some families are going to allow their kids to use the word 'behind', some will say 'bottom', others will refer to their child's backside as 'their pockets' and some just might cry out at dinner for the sixth time, "On your BUTT! Now!" I have no problem with each family picking the words they're most comfortable using, and encouraging use of said words. But does it actually do any of us any good to arm our children with more ways to 'classify' people as good or bad, by teaching them that people who say words we don't are being 'bad'. Or, are we all better off teaching our children a single standard of politeness and decency that raises to the highest common denominator? I want my kids at the highest common denominator, don't I? Then why is it I think fake swear word standards are just so, well, stupid? (And yet, here I am, teaching them not to say it, even when I don't agree with the logic . . . that's stupid too, right?)
(Edited to add: here was a comment I left below that probably better clarified where my real issues with this lie:
My kids would be in big trouble if I heard them call a friend 'stupid' . . . name calling, especially bullying, is pretty zero-tolerance around here. You know how I feel about this :-)
And maybe a distinction between using the word as descriptive vs. insulting is one small children can't make for awhile, thus the ban on the word. I just really have this weird issue with outright banning a word, that can be usefully descriptive, from our vocabulary, and making it 'bad', when I don't feel it necessarily has to be. But, they're little kids, and it's identified in their circles as 'bad', so what choice do I have but to ban it too? I just got thinking about this last night, when a dog ran in front of our car and I pointed out it was stupid for the dog to run in the road in front of a vehicle. Ellie immediately ripped me a new one for saying a 'bad word', and I was just sitting there trying to argue with my three year old that , 'no, in this instance, that is a very apt word -- that it is very stupid for the dog to run in front of traffic 'cause it could be killed for playing in the road.' I guess 'it's a bad idea' is the same concept, but I wanted the situation to have more gravity.
I also found that since we 'banned' the word stupid, NOW the girls will call each other that when they're mad, whereas before, they never did. I now have to get really upset with them and do time outs and stuff over a word that had never crossed their minds before to use meanly. I guess that's my big issue -- by banning it, have I given it more power and made it more negative that it had to be?)
I stood there for a second, and it kinda took all I had not to argue with a six year old that that was quite possibly the dumbest (or stupidest) thing I'd ever heard -- that's not the 's' word. That's not swearing.
And yet, here we are, years later and I hear at least a few times a week from my children, "Mom! Stupid's a bad word!"
Here's the thing. I don't think 'stupid' is a bad word. I think there are some words that we should teach our children not to say, then there are words we should teach them to use judiciously. And yet, here I am teaching my kids not to say the word 'stupid', 'cause I don't want them to be the 'foul mouthed' child at someone else's house. I don't want another adult correcting my child in public, "Don't say stupid, that's not nice." So, for now, we've just told them not to use the word stupid. Which has backfired horribly on me, 'cause I'm constantly being reamed for my usage of this pseudo-swear-word.
But seriously, some things are stupid. And I want my children to understand that. And I want them to know how to use the word appropriately. Not just put a kibosh on a completely legitimate, useful word. Should I allow my children to ever call another person stupid (even possibly one who is being stupid) . . . no, I don't think so. I wouldn't allow that, it would fall under 'name calling', which is something I'm trying to teach them not to use. (Even if Ellie was calling people 'Bobo Monkies' last night). But running in the street. That's just stupid. Trying to balance a wildly out of whack budget without touching on military spending but wanting to cut PBS, that's just stupid. I want my kids to understand that some things are just bad ideas, and in fact, they're stupid. But apparently, I can't let them say it without people calling them on it and telling them not to use bad words. Don't words have the power we assign them -- do we really need to 'create' new bad words? Don't we already have enough? I get that some families are going to allow their kids to use the word 'behind', some will say 'bottom', others will refer to their child's backside as 'their pockets' and some just might cry out at dinner for the sixth time, "On your BUTT! Now!" I have no problem with each family picking the words they're most comfortable using, and encouraging use of said words. But does it actually do any of us any good to arm our children with more ways to 'classify' people as good or bad, by teaching them that people who say words we don't are being 'bad'. Or, are we all better off teaching our children a single standard of politeness and decency that raises to the highest common denominator? I want my kids at the highest common denominator, don't I? Then why is it I think fake swear word standards are just so, well, stupid? (And yet, here I am, teaching them not to say it, even when I don't agree with the logic . . . that's stupid too, right?)
(Edited to add: here was a comment I left below that probably better clarified where my real issues with this lie:
My kids would be in big trouble if I heard them call a friend 'stupid' . . . name calling, especially bullying, is pretty zero-tolerance around here. You know how I feel about this :-)
And maybe a distinction between using the word as descriptive vs. insulting is one small children can't make for awhile, thus the ban on the word. I just really have this weird issue with outright banning a word, that can be usefully descriptive, from our vocabulary, and making it 'bad', when I don't feel it necessarily has to be. But, they're little kids, and it's identified in their circles as 'bad', so what choice do I have but to ban it too? I just got thinking about this last night, when a dog ran in front of our car and I pointed out it was stupid for the dog to run in the road in front of a vehicle. Ellie immediately ripped me a new one for saying a 'bad word', and I was just sitting there trying to argue with my three year old that , 'no, in this instance, that is a very apt word -- that it is very stupid for the dog to run in front of traffic 'cause it could be killed for playing in the road.' I guess 'it's a bad idea' is the same concept, but I wanted the situation to have more gravity.
I also found that since we 'banned' the word stupid, NOW the girls will call each other that when they're mad, whereas before, they never did. I now have to get really upset with them and do time outs and stuff over a word that had never crossed their minds before to use meanly. I guess that's my big issue -- by banning it, have I given it more power and made it more negative that it had to be?)
Monday, May 30, 2011
They Say It's Your Birthday, Na na na na na . . .
So, today is my birthday. Greg got the day off of work, 'cause I'm that special. (Or 'cause my birthday is Memorial Day -- but it's probably more the 'that special' thing.)
Greg brought me toast in bed before I even sat up . . . but then again, he's been doing that every morning, 'cause I feel like puking if I don't eat before I get out of bed. Yay for ever-increasing-morning-sickness.
I had the weirdest realization about my birthday this year. I'm pregnant on my birthday. Just like I was LAST YEAR. How crazy is that?! It's times like that when it suddenly hits me just how close together these two pregnancies really are. :-)
Well, I'm off to celebrate being 32 . . .or more accurately, going to various cemeteries and visiting distant relatives. Y'all just wish your birthdays fell on national holidays!
(Here's last year's birthday post, where I realized how far I've come from being the month-long-birthday-girl who reveled in her Memorial Day birthday where tons of second cousins twice removed remembered me as the birthday girl at our annual family reunion, to now, where both Greg and I keep forgetting to plan anything for our birthdays 'cause they just kinda sneak up on us! The best part was where last year I recounted an exchange between Greg and I, where the night before my birthday he was all, "Um, I forgot to get anything ready . . . ", 'cause we had the EXACT same conversation last night.) :-)
Greg brought me toast in bed before I even sat up . . . but then again, he's been doing that every morning, 'cause I feel like puking if I don't eat before I get out of bed. Yay for ever-increasing-morning-sickness.
I had the weirdest realization about my birthday this year. I'm pregnant on my birthday. Just like I was LAST YEAR. How crazy is that?! It's times like that when it suddenly hits me just how close together these two pregnancies really are. :-)
Well, I'm off to celebrate being 32 . . .or more accurately, going to various cemeteries and visiting distant relatives. Y'all just wish your birthdays fell on national holidays!
(Here's last year's birthday post, where I realized how far I've come from being the month-long-birthday-girl who reveled in her Memorial Day birthday where tons of second cousins twice removed remembered me as the birthday girl at our annual family reunion, to now, where both Greg and I keep forgetting to plan anything for our birthdays 'cause they just kinda sneak up on us! The best part was where last year I recounted an exchange between Greg and I, where the night before my birthday he was all, "Um, I forgot to get anything ready . . . ", 'cause we had the EXACT same conversation last night.) :-)
Sunday, May 29, 2011
Thomas the Train
I already posted pictures of the two baby boys on the train pulling hair and kissing . . . but here's the other pictures from the day of the kids and their cousins. Greg's brother Chris, his wife Liz and their kids, unfortunately (for us, I'm sure they'll be glad to be home again) are headed back home after spending several weeks here in Utah. It's going to be weird adjusting to not just seeing the boys whenever we want! (If anyone knows of any amazing job opportunities for a genius patent attorney, let me know . . . the right job could get them back out here!)
Here's the four older cousins. Most of the time both Liz and I have kids that are the exact same ages. Like, when Liz and the boys first came out to Utah in May, we each had a four year old, a two year old, and a baby under one. But, with both girls' birthdays in May, they're currently different ages for awhile . . . and for a brief period in July, the cousins will be 5 (Annie), 4 (Connor), 3 (Ellie), 2 (Nathan), 1 (Isaac), 0 (Ian). But, by the end of October, it'll be back to two 5 year olds, two three year olds and two one year olds. I went and threw everything off by getting pregnant and having another one so soon -- and (selfish, selfish) Liz, refuses to have another one with me, just so we have another set of same aged children next year. Can you believe it? :-)
The kids loved playing with the train sets. And then there's adorable Ian with his equally adorable Aunt Andrea, watching the kids play with the trains. 
It was fun. It's just sinking in now that I can't just call up Liz and say, "Hey let's go to the park/make s'mores/go to a movie/play in our backyard," now that they're on their way back home. It was a lot of fun while it lasted though. And if y'all just find a good enough patent attorney position to bribe Chris out here with, we can return to our charmed life of spending time with cousins whenever we want (and one or more kids isn't sick) . . .
My nephew, Connor, LOVES Thomas the Train . . . he's like a walking Thomas dictionary. But when we came up to the first poster to stand in front of, he wanted nothing to do with it . . . apparently Diesel 10 (the middle one) is mean, and there was no way Connor was gonna stand by him . . .
Thomas on the other hand . . .
Here's Grandma and Grandpa with five of their six grandchildren. And Sir Topham Hat.
The kids loved playing with the train sets. And then there's adorable Ian with his equally adorable Aunt Andrea, watching the kids play with the trains. 
Ellie, very seriously, shaking her groove thing alongside the percussion artist who was playing.
Then we actually boarded the train -- here's Grandpa and Connor. Probably the groups' two biggest train aficionados.
Ellie, Annie, Nathan (looking out the window, 'cause that's way cooler than mugging for a camera) and Aunt Andrea.
The mamas and the babies -- Nathan and Liz, sharing a tiny cramped bench with Isaac and me.
Connor and Grandma.
Andrea amused by Nathan's uncertainty about wearing Ellie's flower in his hair.
Ellie spent the entire train ride with her head out the window like this. I think out of all the kids, surprisingly, she seemed the most into the train ride and just taking it all in.
Annie & Nathan with Grandma.
Aunt Andrea got Ian to sleep! Three cheers for sleeping babies! (Isaac never did sleep while we were there. And it showed . . . that kid got grumpy.)
Annie and Daddy with their balloon hats -- Annie's face is a bit red and splotchy, 'cause her balloon animal (elephant?!) had just popped . . . so Dad came to the rescue and went and got her and him matching balloon hats.
It was fun. It's just sinking in now that I can't just call up Liz and say, "Hey let's go to the park/make s'mores/go to a movie/play in our backyard," now that they're on their way back home. It was a lot of fun while it lasted though. And if y'all just find a good enough patent attorney position to bribe Chris out here with, we can return to our charmed life of spending time with cousins whenever we want (and one or more kids isn't sick) . . .
Friday, May 27, 2011
Preschool Graduation
After a long day of hanging out with Thomas the Train, we headed back down the canyon to get home in time for Annie's Preschool Graduation (we made it, with a whole 7 minutes to spare!)
Annie had fun singing and performing in their little program (alongside her best friend, Sarajayne).
Our little cheeseball was the only kid to stop and pose both while getting her year-end folder . . .
. . . and while walking back to her seat . . .
Afterwards with Grandpa KC.
And her beloved teacher, Ms. Jenny
Ellie was having fun sneaking off with Annie's new 'graduation bear' that Grandma Karine had given Annie before the festivities began . . .
Ellie happily talking with Ms. Jenny too -- Ellie's super excited about starting Preschool this year.
Annie with her friends Ryan and Aiden.
Ryan is about the cutest thing in the entire world -- not only was he belting out the songs in the program louder than anyone else, but we repeatedly heard him loudly whispering to all his grandparents, "That's Annie! Over there! That's her, that's Annie!" He possibly has a bit of a crush :-)
Grandma Ruth, Annie and Grandpa KC -- who also rushed from Heber City to get back down to our neck of the woods in time to change and get to the graduation.
Daddy, Annie & Mommy
Ellie & Mommy
Grandma Karine, Grandpa Robert and the girls . . .
Cousins
Yesterday, we spent the day up in Heber City, to go see Thomas the Train. We went with Greg's family, as there's only a few more days where my cute nephews are still in town. The kids all had a lot of fun (until they all began to systematically melt down from over-stimulation and exhaustion. :-) You should see an overly tired Annie when her animal balloon pops . . . you do not want to be in her wake!)
I have a ton of pictures, but a few of the two little boys on the train had to be my very favorite.
First, it's Isaac kissing his cousin Ian :-)
Then below that is Isaac saying 'hi' to Ian . . . by pulling his hair (I think he was just so shocked to find that other babies have hair!)
Ian looks so happy, then upset, hurt and confused by his treatment. :-)
Isaac just seems to be enjoying himself immensely. :-) The last picture is just like, "That was cool, Mom!" And Ian's little face is like, "What the crap just happened to me?"
Thursday, May 26, 2011
And Then I Figured Out, "Holy Crap, I'm Pregnant?!"
(Warning in advance: this mentions 'periods' . . . and not punctuation . . . um, if that somehow offends your sensibility, you should probably stop reading. Probably this blog in general. I also talk about potty training a lot, and trust me, that's about to ramp up again . . . )
In Disneyland, I felt a bit different. "Hmmm," I thought when I started spotting, "maybe my periods are starting?" Which was disappointing, since I didn't have such things start up again until my other babies were over a year old, and Isaac was only 10 months. Must be the altitude change, I thought. The whole week, I spotted. I know I had the fleeting thought once or twice, "What if I'm pregnant." But that was crazy talk. I mean, dude, there's NO way. Then after a few days of no more spotting, I thought my period was over, and we were driving home. And I felt crappy. And started spotting a lot more. About half way through the drive, I turned to Greg and said, "I don't think this is a period . . . I think I'm pregnant. And miscarrying." Before I'd gotten pregnant with Isaac, the same thing had happened. I'd gotten pregnant without having a period and while being on the pill, and I started spotting, thought it was a period, after a week it ramped up and I realized it was a pregnancy that was miscarrying. This, I assumed, was the same thing. I was kinda numb. We pulled into the garage after our long drive, I ran straight upstairs, rummaged through my bathroom, found a pregnancy test and tested. It turned positive in like 2 seconds flat. I've never had one turn positive so fast (I've also always known I was pregnant before 4 weeks along, so those tests take longer to turn positive.) I was definitely in shock. I dragged Greg in and made him stare at it with me. He'd just drove all day long, and was like, "OK, whatever," and went back in to get the kids ready for bed. This was all on a Saturday. On Monday, I called my midwives office, "Oh," they said, "Why don't you just take it easy for a few days, and call us if it gets worse . . . " That seemed less helpful to me. I called an OB's office where I'd gone before I started seeing my midwife, "Why don't you come in for a series of hcg bloodwork . . . we'll see if your numbers are going up or down?" So, feeling pretty much my most self conscious, I dragged three screaming children to the hospital with me for blood work. At the registration desk, Annie and Ellie are fighting, Isaac's shrieking in his car seat, and they ask me, "You're here for blood work, correct?' "Yes." "An hcg test," she asks as she stares at Isaac, "for pregnancy, I assume?" "Um, yes." While getting my insurance information copied and filed, "So, you're hear for a pregnancy test?" "Uh huh." "Wow, someone has their hands full!" as Ellie throws herself to the floor screaming, and I'm trying to nonchalantly shove Cheerios in hers and Isaac's mouths. Then at the lab, "So, you're here for a pregnancy test, right?" the lady asked, as Isaac hollered at both of us and the girls kicked each other. "Um, yeah."
The next day, I called the OB's office. The nurse couldn't come to the phone, but she wanted to discuss the results with me, so she'd have to call me back. I waited, then finally got the call. My hcg numbers were over 50,000. To put that in perspective, my little sister had hers tested around 5 weeks along, and hers were 3500. I was all, "Wow, that's high . . . so, do I come in tomorrow to get another test done?" She laughed and said, "No, we don't retest when you're that high . . . we will just need to get you right in for an ultrasound to date this pregnancy!" Then they scheduled my appointment and ultrasound for TWO WEEKS away. I knew I didn't have the patience for that. So, I called my midwives office again, this time telling them I already knew my hcg numbers, and they were all, "Oh wow, you're anywhere from 6-12 weeks along with numbers like that! Let's guess on the low end and say you're seven weeks . . . then we'd want to see you around 11 weeks, and we'd want to get an ultrasound before 12, since they date better before 12, so why don't we have you come in, oh, three weeks from now." Um, what? Why is nobody understanding that (although I know it doesn't change anything) I'm going to have a freaking heart attack if someone doesn't tell me how far along I am?! So I pushed back with, "Um, I really want to know when I'm due . . . please?" She seemed surprised, and was all, "Oh, I guess you could come see her tomorrow then . . . she could check with the doppler and that should tell us how far along you are." Um, I wasn't going to argue, 'cause I finally talked a provider into seeing me that next day, but dude . . . a doppler is NOT going to tell me how far along I am. It will or will not tell me if they can pick up a heartbeat, which frankly tells us nothing more than the hcg test. But, I was getting to see someone the next day, so I shut up. I got in and saw my midwife. Who laughed when she walked in the door. "Didn't I just see you," she teased. She didn't even try the doppler, 'cause as she put it, "It wouldn't tell us anything." Right?! That's what I said . . . well, thought to myself! Then she said, "The very earliest you could be would be around 6 weeks, unless they're multiples," she teased again. Not funny, dude. :-) "So, I wouldn't want to do the ultrasound 'til you're at least 7 weeks, so we'll wait a week and then do an ultrasound. My heart sunk to the freaking floor. I JUST WANT TO KNOW HOW PREGNANT I AM. We went out to make the appointment (you go to the OBs office for ultrasounds), and I mentioned that Thursday didn't work for me. How about Wednesday? Um, not so great. She looked at me, smiled, and said, "Tell you what . . . how's Monday . . . " I grinned, "Perfect."
Since hearing my hcg blood work results, that whole week was a combination of, "How cool would it be if I'm like 11 weeks along and just didn't know I was pregnant?!" and "Dang, what if I'm only like 5 weeks along with twins!?" :-) And, as the spotting spaced out even more, I was really realizing for the first time that 'this might really be happening . . . we're gonna have another baby.'
So, Monday I went in for an ultrasound. The first thing I said after watching for about 10 seconds is, "There's only one in there, right?" She laughed and said, "So far . . . but yeah, it looks like just one." The ultrasound showed our baby to be 8 weeks along, (further than my lowest guess, and gut instinct, but not as far along as I'd been secretly hoping) with a heart rate of 170, a cool looking spinal cord and still kinda shaped like a bean. And doing perfectly well. Things sunk in. And I was really happy. If not still a bit mildly terrified. I was pregnant less than a year ago, you know? And my baby doesn't even have teeth yet . . . are you allowed to be pregnant if your baby still doesn't have teeth? Or walk? Or talk? Or sleep through the freaking night?
It'll be OK. (That's my new mantra). And the countless stories people have shared of their kids who are 13, 15, 16 or 17 months apart, help a lot. :-)
This is really happening . . . and I really think it's supposed to . . .
In Disneyland, I felt a bit different. "Hmmm," I thought when I started spotting, "maybe my periods are starting?" Which was disappointing, since I didn't have such things start up again until my other babies were over a year old, and Isaac was only 10 months. Must be the altitude change, I thought. The whole week, I spotted. I know I had the fleeting thought once or twice, "What if I'm pregnant." But that was crazy talk. I mean, dude, there's NO way. Then after a few days of no more spotting, I thought my period was over, and we were driving home. And I felt crappy. And started spotting a lot more. About half way through the drive, I turned to Greg and said, "I don't think this is a period . . . I think I'm pregnant. And miscarrying." Before I'd gotten pregnant with Isaac, the same thing had happened. I'd gotten pregnant without having a period and while being on the pill, and I started spotting, thought it was a period, after a week it ramped up and I realized it was a pregnancy that was miscarrying. This, I assumed, was the same thing. I was kinda numb. We pulled into the garage after our long drive, I ran straight upstairs, rummaged through my bathroom, found a pregnancy test and tested. It turned positive in like 2 seconds flat. I've never had one turn positive so fast (I've also always known I was pregnant before 4 weeks along, so those tests take longer to turn positive.) I was definitely in shock. I dragged Greg in and made him stare at it with me. He'd just drove all day long, and was like, "OK, whatever," and went back in to get the kids ready for bed. This was all on a Saturday. On Monday, I called my midwives office, "Oh," they said, "Why don't you just take it easy for a few days, and call us if it gets worse . . . " That seemed less helpful to me. I called an OB's office where I'd gone before I started seeing my midwife, "Why don't you come in for a series of hcg bloodwork . . . we'll see if your numbers are going up or down?" So, feeling pretty much my most self conscious, I dragged three screaming children to the hospital with me for blood work. At the registration desk, Annie and Ellie are fighting, Isaac's shrieking in his car seat, and they ask me, "You're here for blood work, correct?' "Yes." "An hcg test," she asks as she stares at Isaac, "for pregnancy, I assume?" "Um, yes." While getting my insurance information copied and filed, "So, you're hear for a pregnancy test?" "Uh huh." "Wow, someone has their hands full!" as Ellie throws herself to the floor screaming, and I'm trying to nonchalantly shove Cheerios in hers and Isaac's mouths. Then at the lab, "So, you're here for a pregnancy test, right?" the lady asked, as Isaac hollered at both of us and the girls kicked each other. "Um, yeah."
The next day, I called the OB's office. The nurse couldn't come to the phone, but she wanted to discuss the results with me, so she'd have to call me back. I waited, then finally got the call. My hcg numbers were over 50,000. To put that in perspective, my little sister had hers tested around 5 weeks along, and hers were 3500. I was all, "Wow, that's high . . . so, do I come in tomorrow to get another test done?" She laughed and said, "No, we don't retest when you're that high . . . we will just need to get you right in for an ultrasound to date this pregnancy!" Then they scheduled my appointment and ultrasound for TWO WEEKS away. I knew I didn't have the patience for that. So, I called my midwives office again, this time telling them I already knew my hcg numbers, and they were all, "Oh wow, you're anywhere from 6-12 weeks along with numbers like that! Let's guess on the low end and say you're seven weeks . . . then we'd want to see you around 11 weeks, and we'd want to get an ultrasound before 12, since they date better before 12, so why don't we have you come in, oh, three weeks from now." Um, what? Why is nobody understanding that (although I know it doesn't change anything) I'm going to have a freaking heart attack if someone doesn't tell me how far along I am?! So I pushed back with, "Um, I really want to know when I'm due . . . please?" She seemed surprised, and was all, "Oh, I guess you could come see her tomorrow then . . . she could check with the doppler and that should tell us how far along you are." Um, I wasn't going to argue, 'cause I finally talked a provider into seeing me that next day, but dude . . . a doppler is NOT going to tell me how far along I am. It will or will not tell me if they can pick up a heartbeat, which frankly tells us nothing more than the hcg test. But, I was getting to see someone the next day, so I shut up. I got in and saw my midwife. Who laughed when she walked in the door. "Didn't I just see you," she teased. She didn't even try the doppler, 'cause as she put it, "It wouldn't tell us anything." Right?! That's what I said . . . well, thought to myself! Then she said, "The very earliest you could be would be around 6 weeks, unless they're multiples," she teased again. Not funny, dude. :-) "So, I wouldn't want to do the ultrasound 'til you're at least 7 weeks, so we'll wait a week and then do an ultrasound. My heart sunk to the freaking floor. I JUST WANT TO KNOW HOW PREGNANT I AM. We went out to make the appointment (you go to the OBs office for ultrasounds), and I mentioned that Thursday didn't work for me. How about Wednesday? Um, not so great. She looked at me, smiled, and said, "Tell you what . . . how's Monday . . . " I grinned, "Perfect."
Since hearing my hcg blood work results, that whole week was a combination of, "How cool would it be if I'm like 11 weeks along and just didn't know I was pregnant?!" and "Dang, what if I'm only like 5 weeks along with twins!?" :-) And, as the spotting spaced out even more, I was really realizing for the first time that 'this might really be happening . . . we're gonna have another baby.'
So, Monday I went in for an ultrasound. The first thing I said after watching for about 10 seconds is, "There's only one in there, right?" She laughed and said, "So far . . . but yeah, it looks like just one." The ultrasound showed our baby to be 8 weeks along, (further than my lowest guess, and gut instinct, but not as far along as I'd been secretly hoping) with a heart rate of 170, a cool looking spinal cord and still kinda shaped like a bean. And doing perfectly well. Things sunk in. And I was really happy. If not still a bit mildly terrified. I was pregnant less than a year ago, you know? And my baby doesn't even have teeth yet . . . are you allowed to be pregnant if your baby still doesn't have teeth? Or walk? Or talk? Or sleep through the freaking night?
It'll be OK. (That's my new mantra). And the countless stories people have shared of their kids who are 13, 15, 16 or 17 months apart, help a lot. :-)
This is really happening . . . and I really think it's supposed to . . .
Tuesday, May 24, 2011
Practically Inhumane
Dear OB Offices Everywhere,
If you ask a pregnant woman to consume 32 ounces of water an hour before an ultrasound appointment, then tell her to refrain from peeing, then leave her waiting out in the waiting room, not even acknowledging her presence, for 30 minutes past the time of her appointment (after telling her to arrive 15 minutes early) . . . that is just cruel and unusual punishment.
Sincerely,
An Irritated Pregnant Woman Whose Bladder Nearly Burst in the Middle of Your Freaking Waiting Room.
(Um yes, I'm pregnant. Crazy, right? Please say nothing but super supportive and encouraging things, like how two babies (less than) 18 months apart will be the best thing that ever happened to me, and how you're greatest, sweetest, favorite (although you'd never admit it), smartest, funnest, most loving child came from a completely unexpected pregnancy, and although you'd never have chosen to be pregnant again so soon (not in a million and a half years), it turned out to be the greatest thing ever. Thanks for your cooperation.)
Edited to add: I did finally get my ultrasound. Where she asked me to go pee first, since my bladder was too full. Of course. Once again, I was blown away by the stampeding sound of a 170 bpm heartbeat, and we got to see a tiny little spinal cord and strong beating heart of our tiny peanut. We're due 1/2/2012. My sister in law tells me that the Chinese Gender Chart says we'll be having a girl. It's been wrong every single time, so I'm hoping this means I get a little boy. 'Cause, dang, if I'm gonna have two kids less than 18 months apart, it could at least work out so Isaac has a little brother this close in age. :-)
If you ask a pregnant woman to consume 32 ounces of water an hour before an ultrasound appointment, then tell her to refrain from peeing, then leave her waiting out in the waiting room, not even acknowledging her presence, for 30 minutes past the time of her appointment (after telling her to arrive 15 minutes early) . . . that is just cruel and unusual punishment.
Sincerely,
An Irritated Pregnant Woman Whose Bladder Nearly Burst in the Middle of Your Freaking Waiting Room.
(Um yes, I'm pregnant. Crazy, right? Please say nothing but super supportive and encouraging things, like how two babies (less than) 18 months apart will be the best thing that ever happened to me, and how you're greatest, sweetest, favorite (although you'd never admit it), smartest, funnest, most loving child came from a completely unexpected pregnancy, and although you'd never have chosen to be pregnant again so soon (not in a million and a half years), it turned out to be the greatest thing ever. Thanks for your cooperation.)
Edited to add: I did finally get my ultrasound. Where she asked me to go pee first, since my bladder was too full. Of course. Once again, I was blown away by the stampeding sound of a 170 bpm heartbeat, and we got to see a tiny little spinal cord and strong beating heart of our tiny peanut. We're due 1/2/2012. My sister in law tells me that the Chinese Gender Chart says we'll be having a girl. It's been wrong every single time, so I'm hoping this means I get a little boy. 'Cause, dang, if I'm gonna have two kids less than 18 months apart, it could at least work out so Isaac has a little brother this close in age. :-)
Friday, May 20, 2011
Another Cupcake Breakfast (and Therefore Another Birthday)
Ellie's tribute from last year, since the laziness continues.
I took all kinds of pictures of the kids eating another cupcake breakfast, and opening presents, and Ellie riding her new tricycle and them making cupcakes -- but, Greg has the camera, and he's gone all day with the girls (went somewhere with his parents, but I'm not feeling so hot, so I'm home with Isaac), so I can't add pictures yet. I will though, soon. I just didn't want Ellie's birthday to go unmentioned. So, Happy Birthday Ellie! I can't believe you're three already! (Way weirder to me than Annie being five years old, for some reason.)
Ellie's been saying for awhile, she'd potty train when she turned three, so when I asked her on her birthday if we should get on her panties, she said, "No, Mom, I'll just wear a diaper. Thanks." "But Ellie, I thought you were going to wear big girl panties when you turned three . . ." "Well Mom," she reasoned, "I am not really that tall . . ." as she held her hand just above her head to indicate her shortness, and therefore, 'too-little-to-wear-panties-ness'. Sigh. :-)
I took all kinds of pictures of the kids eating another cupcake breakfast, and opening presents, and Ellie riding her new tricycle and them making cupcakes -- but, Greg has the camera, and he's gone all day with the girls (went somewhere with his parents, but I'm not feeling so hot, so I'm home with Isaac), so I can't add pictures yet. I will though, soon. I just didn't want Ellie's birthday to go unmentioned. So, Happy Birthday Ellie! I can't believe you're three already! (Way weirder to me than Annie being five years old, for some reason.)
Ellie's been saying for awhile, she'd potty train when she turned three, so when I asked her on her birthday if we should get on her panties, she said, "No, Mom, I'll just wear a diaper. Thanks." "But Ellie, I thought you were going to wear big girl panties when you turned three . . ." "Well Mom," she reasoned, "I am not really that tall . . ." as she held her hand just above her head to indicate her shortness, and therefore, 'too-little-to-wear-panties-ness'. Sigh. :-)
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