Let's Not Do That Again Anytime Soon

Actually it all went fine. But man, talk about stressful on the Mommy... I think I slept a total of about 4 hours last night and it WASN'T because of the baby.

I got up at 5:15 this morning and did all the stuff I needed to go (pumping, getting ready, loading up a back pack full of stuff for The Boy during surgery etc.) before getting The Boy up. I woke him up a little after 6:30am and we were out the door by 6:45am. The Boy thought it was cool that I let him leave the house in the sleeper. One nice side effect of having a kid that doesn't eat is that he wasn't the lease bit bothered by not being able to have any food before his procedure.

Once we got to the surgery center they were very nice and checked us in quickly. We got back in our little area and basically just waited. He didn't want to put on his hospital gown/shirt so I had to bribe him with letting him watch the DVD player if he would put it on. Once that was taken care of they put the little thing on his toe to monitor his heart rate and his little hospital bands on his ankle and we sat back to wait. Here is a shot of him waiting, watching his DVD player (thank God for that thing!): Doesn't he look so little and sweet in that big bed?

About a half an hour before his procedure they gave him a "cocktail" to make him get a little sleepy. He got pretty loopy off of it. It was kind of amusing for me to watch. He was playing little games and holding the DVD player and letting it bonk him on the head and thought he was hysterical. (He was actually pretty funny). All the nurses kept coming by and commenting on how cute he was. He smiled and told them ALL that he had a "stuck thumb." His surgery was scheduled for 8:30am and at about 8:45am they told me it was time. I gave him a big hug and he got a little weepy and said he didn't want me to leave him. But then the (great) nurses joked and asked him if they wanted them to race his bed down the hall. He thought that sounded like fun and told me he was going on a race and that he would see me in a few minutes. And off he went.

I waited out in the waiting room and after about a half an hour the doctor came out and told me everything went fine and he was good to go. The anesthesiologist came out a few minutes later and told me he did great and gave me the little mask that they used to put him under so he could take it for show and tell at school. They said he was stirring so they would be out in a couple of minutes to take me back to him. And a couple of minutes later they were.

The sight of a small child after surgery is not for the faint of heart. My poor boy is pale in a good day in the sun, but man, he was white as a ghost. And he had a bright red cast on his little arm. The nurses were holding it down because he was pissed about that thing on his arm and he kept almost clocking himself in the face with it. He started crying immediately and sobbed to get that thing off of his arm. He just kept saying it over and over again. I tried to calm him down but he wasn't having it. He wanted to damn cast OFF!! (Not going to happen...). Finally I sat on the bed and put him on my lap and set up the DVD player which calmed him down a little. He was still doing the little heaving with his breathing because of how much he cried and every 2 minutes or so he started crying again and demanding that the cast come off. After about a half an hour they let us come home.

Here is is now, sitting on the couch under his Spiderman blanket with his fancy new red cast (that in case you were wondering, he still wants OFF. NOW!) relaxing and watching TV. He is fine, but man, I'm exhausted...

Remember to Breathe...

First of all thank you to all that sent suggestions on my night time dilemma. It sounds as though the consensus seems to be to have The Girl go to bed first and basically alter her night time routine so that she learns how to go to bed without the world having to stop and be quiet for her. I agree with this concept although I will admit that I do enjoy my quiet, alone time with her at night. So it is probably more my enjoying that time than her insisting on it being that way. The thought of feeding her amongst the chaos and then dumping her in bed while doing fifty different things makes me a little bit sad. (From the time the kids get home from daycare until the time they are both in bed I am literally running around trying to take care of dinner, bath time, jammies, teeth brushing, etc...) I love our time at night where it is dark and quiet and we can nurse and look into each other's eyes and then sit in the rocking chair and rock quietly until her eyes get heavy and I carry her down the hall to her room. But, like you all pointed out, she needs more sleep than The Boy (to clarify she does get way more sleep than him because after she gets up at 6:30am to nurse she continues to sleep in my bed for at least a couple more hours...) and should probably go to bed before him. So I will do what's best for my baby but I can't promise I won't pout about it.

The Boy goes in for surgery on his thumb on Monday. If you see me on the street and ask me about it I will answer very casually and tell you that it is a very routine surgery and he will only be under for about a half an hour. I will tell you that I had it done when I was three and I was fine and that this situation is much less scary than the last time he had to be put under (for a brain MRI to make sure his brain was okay). I will puff out my chest and tell you no biggie and that I will be strong for my little dude and that really, it is no big deal!!! But the truth of the matter is...

THEY'RE PUTTING MAH BAAAYYYBBEEEE TO SLEEP AND HE HAS TO HAVE SURGERY!!!

Okay now that I got that out I feel better. I don't care who you are or what the circumstance is, if they are taking your small child into surgery it is scary and it is shitty. I WILL be strong for him and in front of him I will continue to tell him that it is no big deal and that they are just going to fix his "stuck" thumb. I will point out that the cast he is getting is going to be red so it will be just like he is Spiderman with a web-shooter on his wrist. I will tell him that he will drink some yummy juice and then lay with Mommy and take a little rest in the doctor's office and when he wakes up Mommy will be right there waiting with him and his thumb will feel all better and best of all, he has a big bandage he can show all his friends at school. And I will keep up with that brave thought and concept until they take him away from me and I have to go out into the waiting room and wait by myself (Mom is taking care of The Girl until it is late enough to take her to daycare, then she will be coming to the Surgery Center) and then promptly lose my shit.

I am good at being tough before and during the fact but after we get home and probably when he goes down for his nap on Monday afternoon it will all come flooding out. I will let it all go. But not until then. Until then I am the picture of strength. The Boy and I have been through worse than this. No big deal. Piece of cake. We can handle this. He and I can get through anything. (She says with a forced smile on her face as the tears well up behind her eyes...)

Here is the before picture of his "stuck" thumb. I will make sure to post an after shot of his cool cast when we get home on Monday.

Night Time Dilemma

The Boy goes to sleep at 8:00pm He doesn't actually fall asleep until at least 9:00 but he always goes in his room, lights out, at 8:00pm.

My routine for the last 4 1/2 months has been to have the baby awake during The Boy's night time routine. She now reads books with us and brushes teeth with us and hangs out until we say good night to The Boy. Then I take her out in the living room, turn off all the lights, nurse her and rock her in the rocking chair for 10-15 minutes and then put her in bed and she goes to sleep. Both kids are in bed by around 8:30pm. And both kids sleep until at least 6:30am. This has worked really well until lately.

It seems as though The Girl is wanting to go to bed earlier than 8:30pm now. She gets tired and fussy and I am usually bouncing her and rushing through the end of The Boy's routine so that I can get him to bed and therefore put her to bed. Why don't I just put her to bed first, you ask? It isn't that easy.

The Girl will not go to sleep unless it is completely dark in the room and there is no one around except for me. If there are people around, or if something is going on, then she wants to be a part of the action. She isn't horrible and screaming, but she won't go to sleep. And then we pass the point of no return and things get rough and I am desperately nursing a baby for the fourth time at 11:00pm with no milk left in the boobs. I have realized this on the rare occasion that I entertain and people are here later than 8:30. I am not too worried about her at this point because she is only 4 months old and I am not going to be all strict on a bed time routine at this point. She will figure it out. But for right now, this is what she needs to wind down, get relaxed and be able to go to sleep.

Which brings me to the answer to the question about why I don't just put her to bed first. If The Boy is still awake he is running all around us and kissing on her and asking why the lights are off (I have tried this before which is why I know the outcome) and generally making a ruckus. The Girl will NOT go to sleep if her brother is all up in her business. So he has to go to sleep first so that I can get it quiet and focus on her and get her to sleep. (Plus if I'm being honest, I love my end-of-the-day time with my baby girl...she is so sweet and cuddly and...I am digressing).

So that brings me to my dilemma. If The Girl needs to go to sleep before 8:30pm AND The Boy has to be in bed first and his bed time is 8:00pm...how the hell do I make it happen? I either put The Boy to bed WAY early (which really isn't all that fair to him) or I figure out some way to trick him into staying quietly in his room while I go through the process of putting The Girl to sleep and then after that we do his routine. But he won't stay in his room. If he knows she is up and he doesn't HAVE to be in bed then he isn't going to sit quietly in his room. He just isn't. And I can understand that. I can also understand that a 4 month old baby may need to go to sleep for the evening closer to 7:30pm than 8:30pm. But as a single mother, there isn't anyone else in the house that could perhaps read to The Boy while I dealt with The Girl. It is all me and only me. I can't clone myself, so I am at a loss as to how to handle this. Internet, do you have any words of wisdom for me? Any ideas? Assvice? Anything?

Rolling and Wrists and Gifts, Oh My!

Guess who rolled over for the first time yesterday? I will give you a hint...she's chubby and looks good in a bow and...is SO damn proud of herself! See?

The only problem is that she is rolling from back to tummy and she is SO proud of herself for about 5 minutes before she realizes she has unknowingly given herself tummy time at which point she screams for the situation to be rectified. She hasn't yet rolled from tummy to back so once she masters that she will be good to go.

That picture was taken of my Peanut who happily sat in her stroller while I enjoyed my fantastic feast on my birthday. She's such a good kid. Actually they both are. The Boy was equally well behaved. Of course it helped that my grandmother brought him a bag full of bugs that he played with during the entire dinner, but nevertheless, they both did great and allowed me to enjoy a very nice relaxing dinner.

One of the greatest things about living here is that I am surrounded by so much family. I don't take it for granted that on any given occasion I can drive around the corner from my house and we can have four generations together. Here is a picture of the four generations of women (Boy was being a punk and refused to be in the picture, so we took it without him).

Doesn't my grandmother look hip for 87? Those of you who know me in real life know that she is actually quite hip. And quite cranky. But that is part of her charm. Plus we are all jealous because she is living out her golden years in one of the most fabulous places and we all wish it were us living there. But since we live very close by we can take advantage of it often. And we do. :)

I had a fabulous birthday. Thank you to all that commented and sent me emails. It really was a wonderful weekend. And now we must go back to the real world. Today was the first day of The Boy's new speech therapy through the school district, and I had a doctors appointment and had to see three clients. It was nuts.

I continue to be graced with the fabulous "side effects" of pregnancy and was told today that I have a pretty severe case of carpal tunnel on my left wrist. I just thought I tweaked it since I started lifting weights again but it wasn't getting better. So when I went to see my doctor for my blood pressure follow up (finally going back to normal!! Should be able to get off my meds soon!!) I randomly asked her about it. I was so annoyed when she told me this happens to lots of people during and after pregnancy. So remember those annoying wrist splints I was wearing while sleeping during my pregnancy? Now I have to wear one on my left wrist all the damn time. It is not only unattractive, but very difficult to function with. But I would like to avoid surgery so I will do what they tell me. But still...is there anything else that would like to come from behind and bite me in the ass in terms of pregnancy? Mercy!

I must go put The Boy to bed but I will leave you all with my best birthday present ever. Here's a picture of me and my kids on my birthday. How cute are they?

35 Is Pretty Damned Good

Today is my birthday. I am 35 years old. I am good with that. Really, really good.

When I turned 33 years old I wasn't so good with it. As long as I can remember I have had certain goals. I wanted to find my "true love" by 28. I wanted to own a home by 30. And I wanted to be done having two kids by 35.

When I met The Ex at age 26 and fell in love I just knew that I had made my first goal. At 28 we were still very much in love and I was trying to get pregnant. Later that year I bought my first home. I mentally smiled as I checked my goals off the list. I was living the life that I had always dreamed. I was going to make it all happen. When I finally got pregnant and gave birth to The Boy I was 31 years old. My dreams were reality. I was on top of the world.

And then it all came crashing down. The Ex told me when The Boy was 4 months old that she wasn't sure if she loved me anymore. She wasn't sure if she "could do it" anymore. She moved out on his 6 month birthday. We spent the next two years in counseling before it was officially over. During that process, and after, I mourned the loss of my relationship. But even more I think I mourned the loss of my dreams and my goals. I no longer had my "true love," and while I still had the house, who knew if I could afford to keep it being single. And most devastating was the fact that The Boy would grow up as an only child.

When I turned 33 I remember thinking that I had lost the goal of love, and that there was no way that I would make my final goal of having two kids before the age of 35. I had a hard time coming to terms with that. And if you have read my blog from the beginning you know how it all turned out. And for those of you who haven't read from the beginning I will give you the nutshell version.

I decided that I didn't have to let that final dream of two kids go. I decided to fight for my own destiny and fight for The Boy to have a sibling, and fight for the life that I had always wanted. And fight I did. And now I have my beautiful 3 1/2 year old son and my 4 month old daughter and I feel so blessed. A boy and a girl. My beautiful kids. They have given more to my life than anyone else on this planet (except perhaps my mother).

I woke up this morning, the morning of turning 35 to the sweet sound of "Mommy, I wake!" from the room next door to mine. I went in to greet my son and he stood up and wrapped his arms around my neck and gave me a big hug and said, "Today you birfday Mommy?" I smiled and nodded at him. "Well den I you best present!"

Yes, you don't know how right you are my boy.

Fifteen minutes later my daughter woke up from her spot next to me in my bed with a smile. She grinned at me and then looked past me to see her big brother and smiled even wider. I rested there in bed, with my two kids, and I knew that I had made it. Rather than today being a day that I felt sorry for myself for what I didn't have and what I didn't achieve, I had the two most important things in my life right there next to me showing me that you can make your life what you want it to be. It's hard and things didn't go as I had planned (and damn if I don't love a good plan) but I am here and I feel great. I still own my house and I have my two kids. It's true that I still haven't found that love part, but with hope, that will come in time. Right now I am choosing to focus on my family. Very soon I will be ready to venture out into the scary world of dating, but right now, today, things are as they should be.

Later tonight I will be going out to dinner at one of my favorite restaurants with my mom, my step dad, my grandmother and my kids. Then tomorrow morning my best gay boyfriend (who also happens to be a certified massage therapist) is giving me a massage while his boyfriend watches the kids. Then later on tomorrow evening they are both coming over to fix me king crab legs for dinner. My very fave. I have gotten texts and phone calls and emails from lots of people who love me today and I just feel so lucky. I live a very full and wonderful life thanks to all the fabulous people who surround me. To all of you who know me in real life, thank you for making my life rich. And to all of my internet readers who don't know me in real life, you bring something to my life as well. This internet community helped me for years before I even engaged and started writing my own blog. And I appreciate the comments and emails from all of you.

The main thing I have learned in my 35 years on this planet is that life is what you make of it. It will never be what you plan, or end up exactly how you want it to be, but your life will be what you fight to make happen. I intend to keep on fighting for years to come and hopefully one day all of my dreams will be fulfilled.

This Should Have Been Posted On Wednesday...

It was a banner day here at house of the long haul... The Boy actually made a poop in the potty. At school. The fact that he managed to poop in the potty at all is cause for celebration, but he even did it at school? Well, that just rules. And in addition to that his teachers told me today that from now on they are leaving him in his big boy pants during nap time because for the past week and a half his pull up has been dry when he has gotten up. So today he slept in his big boy pants and woke up dry. It was a good potty training day over here. But as I have learned, we have good days and then we have some not so good days. But today? Today was a keeper.

Also adding to my cherub-like demeanor today? It is Wednesday. And on Wednesdays The Boy goes to school, but The Girl stays home with me. It is literally the only time that I get alone with her. For an entire day. Every other time that I am with my daughter my son is around. Don't get me wrong, I adore my boy, but he is challenging right now. He is exhausting. And he takes a lot of effort. Plus, he's older so he knows how to say, "Mommy! I need you!...Mommy! Over here...Mommy! Come look at my spider..." And when that happens the cute little well-tempered baby gets set aside while I go and deal with her brother (positive reinforcement and attention and all of that...). You know the old saying about the squeaky wheel getting the grease? Let's just say that The Boy gets all the grease and The Girl gets the shaft a lot in this house. There is only one of me and two of them so usually the louder one wins.

But Wednesdays are all for my daughter. I get to spend the entire day with just her. It reminds me of when The Boy was little and he was just the center of my world. I spent hours and hours just holding him and talking to him and cooing at him and making faces at him... I would lay with him on the ground and try and entice him into rolling over; I would stand him on my legs and let him practice his balance; I would cuddle him up in my arms and rock him to sleep... I get to do all of this with The Girl on Wednesdays. Granted I am also working from home, but she does take a couple of decent naps so that allows me to bust out a bunch of work when she's sleeping. But I don't have to resort to the evil pump. I can breast feed her all day long. I can just focus on her and enjoy her and drink her in. I soak up that baby-ness because I know it ends all too soon. I love Wednesdays.

So I appear to be obsessing on the amount of food my daughter is getting from me. For some reason over the past few days I am convinced that my supply has gone to shit. I don't ever feel full anymore. Plus, when she eats she used to lay there peacefully and drink and milk used to dribble out of her mouth. Now she is chomping around and moving her body and checking things out all around her. And I never see milk. I am convinced it is because she isn't getting enough milk so she is literally trying to chew it out of me. Plus, I asked the people at her daycare how many ounces of milk she is drinking a day when with them. They told me around 15. FIFTEEN?!?!?!?! Are they serious? On a good day I only pump about 12 ounces while she is gone. Lately it has only been 8 or 10. And she is drinking 15? No way. That's insane. So now I am freaked out that I am going to have to supplement her. I know that's not the end of the world, but I was SO enjoying the whole breast feeding thing. I really want to exclusively breast feed her until a year. Now I am paranoid that I am not going to be able to make that happen.

I should note that when she is home with me I have never once had to give her a bottle of pumped milk as a supplement. She appears to get enough food with what she eats with me. Plus, she is sleeping at least 9 to 10 hours at night and she wouldn't be doing that if she were hungry, right? And in terms of milk for daycare, right now there are 120 frozen ounces of milk at my mom's house waiting to go to daycare. So even though she is drinking more than I am pumping right now, I probably shouldn't freak out until I am actually close to running out of milk, right? So why am I freaking out? I really don't know, but I sure wish I could chill. I guess I will see how things go, but man, I am spending WAY too much time worrying about this.

Finally, let's talk about baby hair. My daughter had a good amount of hair when she was born. Of course it has done that attractive thing that babies hair does and fallen out all around where she lays on it. So she has a very fancy mohawk all along the top. And she has some long hair on the sides and back underneath where she lays. Then there is the hair that is growing in underneath all the newborn hair that is cute and fuzzy but WAY shorter than all the craziness elsewhere on her head. What's a girl to do? If you remember WAY back when I was talking about the possibility of having a daughter, doing her hair properly was one of the things I was having anxiety about. I don't know how to do hair. I can blow dry my own hair and run a flat iron through it only because my gay hair dresser taught me how to. But pig tails, or braids or anything else? Not so much. I realize that she is not anywhere near the point of pig tails or braids, but if I can't even handle the standards, how am I supposed to come up with something to do with this in-between hair style? So I present to you what I have come up with. I put all the crap on top up in a little clip-like thing that makes a little pompadour on top of her head. I don't know about you all, but I think she looks cute. Any suggestions would be wonderful.

This next picture is to remind myself that (hopefully) I am not starving my daughter. I mean look at her. Check out the rolls on this child. She can't be starving, right? Although I am only convinced that I have started to starve her over the last few days so it wouldn't be showing yet... But I need to relax, right? She looks hearty, doesn't she?

Postpartum Crap

Just a couple of things that I want to throw out there. I am a little over 4 months out from having my baby and having surgery. There are some good things about where I am and some not so good things.

The Good:

• I lost all my baby weight (and then gained some back, but that can't be blamed on anyone but myself; see previous post).
• Since I am breast feeding my boobs haven't fallen down to my waist yet.
• The baby is sleeping through the night so I am finally getting some decent sleep.
• I am back at work and getting back into a routine.
• Daycare is working out well and I am (so far) able to pump enough milk that she is staying exclusively breast fed.
• Still no sign of the dreaded monthly visitor, although I am cranky as all hell so I keep thinking that it MUST be PMS. So far it isn't. I am just a bitch.

The Bad:

• This happened with my son as well, but I am TOTALLY losing my hair. Like handfuls of it every single time I shower. And I have two bald(ing) spots on each side of my head near my temples. It isn't my greatest look. AND because of that I can't wear it up in a pony tail since it shows off the bald spots. Boo.
• No matter how many sit ups I do, there is still that little ridge of pudge that sits right over my c-section scar. I don't think it will ever go away.
• Even though my baby sleeps through the night, no one sent the memo to my boobs. So I either get up and pump, or wake up engorged and beg the baby to eat enough to bring me relief.
• She never eats enough to bring me relief so I end up letting her eat on one side and then pumping the other.
• Even though we have been successfully breast feeding thus far, I am petrified that my supply is going to go to crap at any moment and it will all go away.
• My step sister is a lactation consultant and she swears that if I just let my boobs adjust to what the baby is doing (eating during the day like crazy and then sleeping for 9 hours at night) then they will be perfect and give her exactly what she needs. No more, no less.
• I can't seem to believe her and therefore freakishly pump to make sure that it all doesn't go away.
• Even though daycare is fabulous I am not sure they understand the whole "liquid gold" thing and I think they make her 4 ounce bottles throughout the day when she doesn't drink that much. I am pretty sure they are throwing away at least 3 ounces a day.

I think that is pretty much it. I am so thankful to be 4 months past having this baby as opposed to wear I was 4 months before having her. If you happen to be a new reader, don't think that I don't appreciate my child or being able to conceive her and give birth to a healthy baby. It's just that I really don't do pregnancy well. My body rebels against me. And while there are some yucky parts about postpartum things, it is WAY better than being pregnant.

If anyone out there has any info on the breast feeding thing and whether or not my sister is correct that I need to chill the F out, please let me know. I would love to chill out. But with the baby being in daycare 3 days a week I just want to make sure that my body continues to give her all that she needs. If that means I have to pump even during the times that she is home with me, so be it. But if my body really WILL adjust to a point where I only need to pump when she is physically at daycare that would be awesome. Any advice, or ass-vice, would be appreciated.