Holy Hell That was Fast (and giving birth, which I hope is equally as fast)

Our tile is down! The grout has to go down tomorrow and the sealant has to go down on Friday, but the tile is down!

Before:

After Day One:







Nice, eh?

Ok, so that's being taken care of at home with Mike sending me updated pictures as I toil away at the office. It has come to my attention this morning at our staff meeting that I will only be here for 8 more weeks, and then I am going on maternity leave. Already. Good grief. I feel like I just peed on about twelve total tests the pregnancy test.

And that started me thinking. In less than three months, I am going to have my son. And then I thought OHMYDOG, I'm going to have to GIVE BIRTH again. I know I had an easy labor and delivery last time, and compared to some horror birth stories I've heard (like my friend Jenn who gave birth to her fifth baby practically in the car on the way to the hospital), mine was a piece of pie. I pushed for only 30 minutes. I was up and walking around within an hour. I showered and shaved my legs (yes, I know. I'm a weird leg-shaver. It makes me itchy and nuts to go more than one day) that next morning. But dude? It still effing hurt. A LOT. People say you forget the pain. To that I say: NAY NAY! I remember it quite clearly. I remember clutching the rail of the hospital bed just holding my breath, hoping I would pass out or die for a second, because maybe then they'd put me under and I'd wake up and the baby would be out of me. I remember yelling at cursing at my mother, who was there to support me. "DO NOT TOUCH ME. GET IN THE CORNER!" I remember thinking that I am surprised the human race has continued because WHY WOULD ANYONE DO THIS MORE THAN ONCE? And yet here I am, waddling down hallways, weeks away from that same very experience. I guess despite the pain, the end result is what keeps us going back. In my case, I just hope I'm back in enough time to get my friend, Mr. Epidural. Oh, how I love him.

(28 weeks)

The Sun Came Out

Literally.

The morning was dreary and rainy, with a chill in the air reminiscent of March. I do not miss March and was pissed to see it back on my front door step. Charlotte and I ventured out anyway to get some grocery shopping done. It seemed fitting that the weather was so dreary given the mood I was in - crestfallen, sad.

Around noon, I made a phonecall on a whim. I called our family mechanic that we've used for years and Mike's family used for years before that and asked his advice. He gave me the number of a guy he used to work with that now runs his own shop and does engine repair. I called him and he sensed the tremors in my voice when I explained to him what the dealership had said, how much money they wanted, and how we didn't have it because we spent everything we had to pay the car off. He told me not to worry, that they gave us a ridiculous price, and he'd take care of us. I called the dealership, paid the 219$ diagnostic fee and said that a tow truck would be coming for it. He said he thinks it may be the timing chain, which would be a 1200-2000 fix, and even worst-case scenario if it IS the engine, he would replace it and warranty it for three years for around 3500. Which is HALF of what the dealership wanted. It's still a lot of money. But it's a lot less than 7000. I started to feel a little better about the whole car situation after speaking to this guy.

And then I received this:

(It looked way better before I ate some of it and then thought, "Hey, I should take a picture of this. It's so pretty." Those chocolate covered oranges are TODIEFOR. I may have already eaten seven.)

With this:



From her.

It was such a nice and sweet surprise and truly warmed my heart. It was a genuine act of friendship and those are so few and far between these days that I am so happy I met her. Thank you, Cass. Seriously. You made my day.

Then we got a phonecall from the tile people and I was sure when the woman said "This is Yolanda from the Installation Department for your tile," that the next words out of her mouth were going to be "SYKE! We're not coming. At all. EVER! MUAH-HA-HA" but instead she said, "We're scheduled to come next Tuesday but we have an opening tomorrow. Would you mind if we came then?" Mind? MIND? Would I MIND getting my tile a week earlier? A few quick phonecalls and childcare was taken care of, and we should be all done by Saturday. Yaahoooo!

By the end of the day, the sun was out everything seemed a little brighter. Things are looking up, and even though some stuff still sucks, it has to get better from here.

And as much as I love my new couch, I have two fat boys that love it just as much I think:

Toddler Lyrics

At night before we put Charlotte down, we coat her with Burt's Bees Buttermilk baby lotion (the ONLY thing that has helped get rid of her eczema), put an Overnight diaper (thank you Huggies for making these even though I'm a Pampers girl), and slather on some Aveno diaper cream. She has never had a diaper rash, so we stick to what works. Now when we go through this routine, she asks for her "wotion and butt cream."

Last night, we were playing on the floor (okay, Mike was on the floor and I was on the couch), and we were singing "Row, Row, Row Your boat" and this is how Charlotte sang it:

Row, Row, Row A boat
Wife is butter dreams!
Merry, Merry, Merry, Merry
Wife is BUTT CREAM!

Yes, my sweet baby girl, life is sometimes indeed butt cream. But you can make me smile through the thickest kinds.

Rainbows and Puppies

The good news is that the tile installers called and they will be here next Tuesday. I worked out childcare and it seems feasible that we can manage to be out of the house for the three days we need to be. And then that will be over and taken care of and we will have tile. Lovely porcelain tile!

I wish I had more good news to report, because we all know how annoying it is when I whine. So, I'll just say this really fast, like ripping off a band-aid:

TheEngineIsTotallyShotOnMyFourYearOldTruckThatIJustPaidOffAndWillCostSeven
ThousandDollarsToFixAndWeDoNotHaveSevenThousandDollarsBecauseIJustPaid
EighteenThousandDollarsToPayTheFuckingTruckOffSoWeWouldHaveNoMorePayments.

BPA - What do YOU do?

I'm sure you have all heard on the news and media about the safety of the plastics we use, specifically in baby bottles, sippy cups, bowls, etc., especially regarding the chemical Bisphenol-A (BPA). In case you've been living in a cave, here is what it is:

From the Green Guide:

"Depending on whom you talk to, BPA is either perfectly safe or a dangerous health risk. The plastics industry says it is harmless, but a growing number of scientists are concluding, from some animal tests, that exposure to BPA in the womb raises the risk of certain cancers, hampers fertility and could contribute to childhood behavioral problems such as hyperactivity.

According to its critics, BPA mimics naturally occurring estrogen, a hormone that is part of the endocrine system, the body's finely tuned messaging service. "These hormones control the development of the brain, the reproductive system and many other systems in the developing fetus," says Frederick vom Saal, Ph.D., a developmental biologist at the University of Missouri. Endocrine-disrupting chemicals can duplicate, block or exaggerate hormonal responses. "The most harm is to the unborn or newborn child," vom Saal says.

Plastic water and baby bottles, food and beverage can linings and dental sealants are the most commonly encountered uses of this chemical. Unfortunately, it doesn't stay put. BPA has been found to leach from bottles into babies' milk or formula; it migrates from can liners into foods and soda and from epoxy resin-lined vats into wine; and it is found in the mouths of people who've recently had their teeth sealed. Ninety-five percent of Americans were found to have the chemical in their urine in a 2004 biomonitoring study by the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention (CDC)."

For other informational videos and articles on the topic, all you need to do is google it, and there is more than 60 pages of websites. Or click here for a portal to all media stories on the topic.

Most concerning for me is this, "Bisphenol A is a hormone disruptor. Studies have linked low-dose BPA exposure with such effects as: permanent changes to genital tract; increase prostate weight; decline in testosterone; breast cells predisposed to cancer; prostate cells more sensitive to hormones and cancer; and hyperactivity."

Both Canada and Germany have moved to ban the use of this chemical in their plastics, which you can find most commonly in Recycling #7 items. (Check the bottom of your plastics to see which are which, and click here for explanations of the recycling numbers).

Normally, I'm not on the freak-out bandwagon when the media focuses on one thing or another. But my own research, combined with the fact that other countries have moved to BAN this chemical based on their own research studies, currently has me in a tizzy.

Of course, the plastics company has this website dedicated to proving to us that their products is safe. But that isn't surprising. A billion-dollar industry isn't going to admit any wrong doings, and will find scientific facts to back up their product so long as the FDA and our country approve its use.

The Dr. Brown's bottles I fed my daughter from were unsafe (they now have a BPA-free line). Her pacifiers (Avent) are on the "dangerous" list. Some of the sippy cups we used were also made from BPA products. The Del Monte mandarin oranges in the to-go containers are made with #7 plastic. Our water cooler bottles (the 5-gallon jugs) are made with it. What scares me the most about the water cooler jugs is that they can't be truly recycled so they sterilize and reuse them for up to six months. This means further breaking down of the plastics from this process. And I drink from this thinking it was safer than tap water. I was wrong. It seems it's everywhere.

I had heard the warnings but muted them in my head. One more thing for the media to rile people up about. Last week fish is great for you for Omegas. This week it will kill you with mercury. Red meat is an excellent source of iron. Red meat will give you a heart attack. Running is good for your heart. Running will kill your joints. I never listen, and do my own research to get the answers I need. In this case, I only wish I listened sooner. Much like the use of asbestos, other countries banned it first while our country convinced us that it was safe. Only until they could link specific lung cancers to asbestos did our country ban it. In this case, I am not waiting for my daughter to get uterine cancer, or my son to have low levels of testosterone before I act.

I have spent the last two days on this laptop researching this and have done the following: thrown away all of the unsafe baby products as well as our plastic drinking cups; canceled our water cooler service; emailed GoodStart (the formula we will most likely use with Sawyer since we loved it with Charlotte) to ask if their cans are lined with BPA, which some cans are; bought stainless steel travel mugs for me and Mike for our water at work (NOT lined in plastic -just steel) ordered stainless steel sippy cups (Foogoo brand stainless steel sippy cups are also available at Target); ordered bamboo plates and bowls for Charlotte; thrown away all of her pacifiers and am going to replace them with safe ones.

We can use glass or ceramic but she carries her bowls around and that is unsafe, which is why bamboo is a great option. I also plan to use Dr. Brown's new glass bottle line for Sawyer for when we're in the house and I can be safe, and the Born-Free bottles for travel and such. For water, we can't use our local tap water because it is NASTY, so I'm going to buy a steel water filter for the sink.

I know I probably seem a bit nuts about all of this, but just go read and watch and research yourself. Then maybe I won't seem so nuts.

Have any of you switched over to BPA-free products? Do you buy into the hype about its safety or do you just figure it's something else for the media to harp on? What do you use for yourself and your babies? For me, even through the media frenzy, I'd rather be safe than sorry.

SafeMama is another site you can check out for links to all brands (as well as recalls and other safety information). You can google "BPA free products" or check out this link, but here is a quick list for your reference:

BPA & Phthalate Free Pacifiers:

• Playtex: Playtex "Binky" (one piece silicone pacifier), Binky Most Like Mother Latex Pacifier, Binky Most Like Mother Silicone Pacifier, Binky Angled Pacifier, Ortho-Pro Pacifier
• Gerber: NUK Original, NUK Classic, NUK Nautical
• The First Years: Soothies Silicone Paci's, Safe Comfort, Ultra Kip
• Vice Versa Binky w/ Case
• Natursutten Natural Rubber Paci
• Evenflo: Mimi Soft Touch, Mimi Premium, Mimi Neo One-Piece, Vizion, Fuzion and Illuzion
• Gumdrop Silicon Pacifiers

BPA & Phthalate Free Bottle Products:

• Adiri Natural Nursers
• Avent "Via" disposable bottles
• BornFree: All bottles and cups BPA free *see note
• EvenFlo: Glass bottles, Classic Tinted Polypropylene bottles
• Playtex: Original Nurser,Opaque Soft Bottle (discontinued), Playtex Drop in liners
• Gerber: Gerber Clearview, Fashion Tints (also called "Plastic Pastels"), Gerber GentleFlow
• Medela: All bottles
• Sassy MAM bottles (UltiVent), Baby Food Nurser Kit
• Green to Grow Bottles **see note
• Sassy Baby Food Nurser Kit
• ThinkBaby Bottles
• Momo Glass Bottles
• Munchkin: Dora the Explorer Classic Bottles
• Nuby: Standard Neck Non-Drip Bottle, Wide-Neck Non-Drip Bottle, Wide-Neck Bottle with Handles and Non-Drip Nipple, Standard Neck Bottle with Handles and Non-Drip Nipple, 3-Stage Wide Neck Easy Grip Feeding System with Non-Drip Nipple.
• Nuture Pure Glass bottles
• Babisil Silbottles
• Weego Glass Bottles
• Siliskin Glass Bottles
• Dr Brown's: Glass Bottles (all vent system pieces BPA Free), Dr. Browns Polypropylene bottles (due in store's April 15th)
• Parent's Choice Bottles (available at Walmart) - box is marked BPA Free

BPA & Phthalate Free Sippy Cups:

• Playtex: Coolster Tumbler, Insulator, Einstein Sip & Discover Training Cup, Sipster, Create My Own, Quick Straw, Insulator Sport, Sip and Discover, First Sipster, Einstein Sip & Discover Insulated Straw Cup
• Gerber: Sip & Smile Spill-proof Cup, Easy Grip Insulated Soft Straw Cup, Insulated Cool Cup, Fun Grips Color Change Spill-proof Cup, Grins & Giggles Spill-proof Cup (source)
• BornFree sippy/drinking cups
• Kleen Kanteen
• Thermos Foogo Sippy Cups, and drinking bottle with straw
• SIGG Toddler Water Bottles
• Kid Basix The Safe Sippy
• Boon Sippy
• GrowPure Multi-Stage Feeder and Sippy Cup
• iPlay Aqua Bottle
• ThinkBaby Training Cup
• Sassy Snack Time Infa-Trainer Cup
• Munchkin: Cupsicle, Cupsicle Straw Cup, Big Kid Sippy Cup, Mighty Grip Flip Straw Cup, Mighty Grip Trainer Cup, licensed character Sports Bottles, Re-usable Straw Cups, Re-usable Spill-proof Cups
• Nuby: No-Spill Sports Sipper, Insulated Soft Silicone Spout Cup, Soft Spout Easy Grip Cup, Gripper Cup with Soft Silicone Spout, 2-Handle Cup, Tinted Mega Sipper, 7oz Tumblers
• The First Years: Take & Toss, Spill-proof Cup, Insulated Cup, Licensed character sippy cups, Insulated Spill-proof Cup, 2 Handled Cups

This made me literally laugh out loud

Living with a gamer...

Actual word-for-word utterings from my husband playing his video game (on his headset with his friends) while I work:

"Incoming Warlock, Joe! And you also have a Mage on you too. Don't worry. You have a bunch of people coming to help you. Just hang in there."

"Oh man, that rogue kicked my ass."

"I'll stay here. It's me and the druid."

"That's how I roll."

"Aw, man. I just got owned."

~~

He's lucky he's cute. Because, HOO BOY, is my man a DORK.

A question

Thanks to an Anonymous comment (my favorite, really), it has come to my attention that I have been doing my fair share of whining and complaining this week (That, my friends, is sarcasm. I of course KNOW I've been whining all week).

So here I pose a question: what SHOULD I be writing about during this week? That there are flowers blooming from my ass and rainbows and puppies with bows on them in my front yard? Oh, and a leprechaun just delivered my broken-down Explorer with a shitload of gold coins in it?

And then SciFi Dad wrote a post about why bloggers blog. And he was man enough to admit he did it for the feedback and interaction. But to what level? Do we stop writing about what's going on in our lives simply because it isn't that exciting and the feedback will most likely be "You're a daft whiny cow. Shut up." Do I censor my frustration over my incredibly shitty week for the sake of still being likable to the internet?

Do YOU not write about something because you don't think people will care or will think less of you? Do you censor your thoughts for the sake of the feedback and likability level? What topics are off limits to you - politics, breastfeeding, SAHMs vs. working moms? What don't you talk about for fear of lashback from your readers?

Yes, it's possible

I bet you didn't think it was possible that anything else could go wrong this week. I mean, I started my day with a bowl of Cocoa Krispies and cappuccino - I was feeling THAT confident that today would be better.

Remember the gutter guys that came on Tuesday? One of the things that sent me over the edge to the brink of sanity? Well, we bought ALL new gutters for both the front and back - the new-fangled kind with the hoods that can't ever clog. It even has a lifetime warranty that they will never get anything in them. Apparently, they didn't install them very well because they are clogged. With what you ask? BIRDS! GAH! I HATE BIRDS! I mean, I like looking at them and think they're beautiful and all, but do not like them near me, near my house, or IN any part of my house. They flutter! Me no likey fluttery things. These little black starling birds have been flying in and out of the corner end of the gutters with sticks and strings and anything they can use to build a nest. I called the gutter people and still haven't heard back from them. So, now what? By the time they get here to fix their mistake, there may be baby birds in there? Not to mention, have you ever heard the sound of bird feet running up and down in brand new metal gutters? Kill me now.

Then (oh yes, there's more and this is actually worse), Mike calls me about 5 minutes before he's supposed to be home this afternoon. "Um, babe? Your car is dead." He was on the side of the road with my Explorer that stopped working. He didn't want me to come help him since it was on a major highway so he called his best friend Joe who came to help him. They called AAA and had the car towed. It seems it's most likely the fuel pump according to "the men". Of course this happens on a Friday and I may not have my car by tomorrow, which means I can't get to work on Monday. Do you know WHY this happened? Why my in-very-good-condition 2004 car broke down? Because we paid it off last month, that's why. When I wrote that five-figure check, I looked at Mike and said "you realize this car will probably die now." I mean, I love being right and all, but this is not how.

I keep looking at Charlotte giggling at bubbles with Mike or feel Sawyer bump around inside me and know how truly lucky I am. But it is a running joke that if it weren't for bad luck, Mike and I would have none at all. If something can go wrong, it almost always does. There seems to be a perpetual black cloud that follows us, and though we have so very many things to be thankful and grateful for, I sure would love to find Murphy and kick his ass.

Understatement

What is that you ask?

Why, that would be my big belly taking up the entire shot of me sitting on my new chaise lounge! WOOOOOOOO-effing-HOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!! Our couch is here! Do you LOVE it? The other end of the couch has dual recliners - AAHH! (Matches the new rug good, eh?)

(I was so excited I took the picture before we even took the tags off of it)

But - and how sad is this - I've yet to sit on it for longer than it took to take that picture. I've been out of the house running errands and working all day. Oh yeah, and our kitchen table and chairs are in the living room.

To say that Mike and I (and my father) have been busy this week is an understatement.

The floor drama got worse. After getting to the bottom of the floor (asbestos tile - yay), Home Depot said that their tiley-guys (yes, that's a technical term) won't install the backer board for liability reasons, and that we'd either have to do it ourselves or find someone to do it. Finding someone to do it when we aren't giving them the business of the tile would be damn near impossible. So today Mike and my father have been doing it themselves. Neither one of them had ever done this before, but they talked to people, taught themselves and as of 9:22 pm as I type this, they are almost done.

I've had to keep Charlotte out of the house while they do this and between work, this project, and life in general, I haven't been getting home until after 8 pm, after being up at 6 and sleeping maybe 5 hours. Mike is physically working harder than he is used to and my father, though a young dad at 49, is still sore and beaten by the end of these days.

I am thankful to have a father that asks me "how high?" when I ask him to jump. Some parents play satellite roles in their grown children's lives, letting them fend for themselves, keeping their own lives as top priority. That is not how my family works. Even adults need help. Even grown men and women need their moms and dads, and I am incredibly grateful to have a wonderful support system in my mother, father, and sister.

The tiley-guys aren't coming until next week sometime but we had to get the asbestos tile covered up and I know you're all waiting with bated breath to see the pictures of this, so without further ado, welcome to our personal hell this week:

(The hideous floor we had been living with for the last two years. It's actually much worse than it looks in this picture. It was old, cracked, and stained and never looked clean.)

(The awesomeness that was the second floor under the first nasty-ass floor)

(Yes, that IS black mold on the hippie floor from the 70s)

(My dad. They don't call him Mr. Clean without good reason)

(Eureka! Asbestos!)

(Installing backer board to prepare for tile)

(I think they did a damn fine job.)

It is now 9:48 and my father finally left. Mike is finishing mortaring the joints. Tomorrow, Charlotte will go to her dayhome and hopefully, it will be dry enough to walk on by the time we get her at 3 o'clock. We'll have to re-carpet-tile over the concrete to live on until the tile gets laid down, which will hopefully be next week sometime. But, at least the asbestos is now encapsulated in cement and I can rest easier on that front.

And we have our couch! And it was the right color! And there were no marmosets living in it!

I'm now going to pass out.

Happy Birthday

Brian,

Please don't be mad at me for this. But since you are turning the big 3-0 today, I decided it is a perfect time to show the world this picture:

You can thank your friend Deanne for that wonderful look back in time.

Thank you for being my friend for the last ten years. Thank you for being Charlotte's "Unka Bwian." Thank you for accepting to be Sawyer's godfather. I can sleep peacefully knowing he will be the best dressed little boy in all of Center City Philadelphia. Thanks for all the fun memories and for the ones to come.

(My two favorite men)

Love,
Me

The home stretch

Today officially marks the start of my third trimester. Can I get a woot-woot?

Here are some things that have changed as I enter this leg of the race:

1) I am within days of not being able to wear my wedding rings.
2) My stretch marks are getting stretch marks.
3) I need three pillows to sleep at night - one for my head, one for my belly, and one between my legs.
4) I officially waddle.
5) My bikini line has been missing for approximately six weeks. A trip to the salon is in order.
6) Weird dry scalp.
7) You can see my unborn son roll over inside me, a site that equally amazes and creeps out my husband.
8) I fear I may not have an esophagus left at the end of this pregnancy because there is no way I can have continual heartburn and not cause permanent damage.
9) I now take four tums at a time instead of three.
10) Almost no closed shoe fits anymore.
11) I have a hard time doing dishes because my stomach hits the sink first and my arms can barely reach. I feel like a T-rex.
12) My swelling goes up in direct proportion to the temperature outside. I begged for spring and now each warm day, I feel like the Stay Puft Marshmallow man.
13) Carrying my brute of a toddler around is equivalent to running a 5K. With ankle weights.
14) I can't eat much at one sitting because I get full fast, but then am hungry 40 minutes later. I believe Sawyer's feet may actually be in my stomach. But I am just happy they are out of my nethers.
15) Sex has become a circus act.
16) I'll have a burst of energy where I feel almost human followed by a need to nap equivalent to that of a crackwhore's need for, well, crack.
17) People now look at me with pity when I try and bend over to retrieve things.
18) The floor is almost constantly littered with toys because picking them up is more effort than kicking them around.
19) The clothes I bought that "should last the whole pregnancy" did not.
20) The thought of buying and/or wearing a bathing suit has me convinced the Coast Guard may try and rescue me to put me back with my "pod."

(27 weeks)

Overwhelmed

If I weren't pregnant, I'd swear I was PMSing. Normally, I'm not overly hormonal when I'm pregnant, and though if you ask my husband there are definite mood swings, they are not nearly as bad as some women go through. But today? Today? I am on the brink.

I don't cry. Because if I start, I usually don't stop and by the time I'm finished, I forgot what I started crying about because I've created a chain of 80 other things to cry about. But this morning, I've already cried twice. I just can't get a fricken grip and I feel like such a loser.

I woke up after five hours of sleep, with a headache, to a pile of crap that had to be done. Mike does more than his fair share of housework but with everything that's been going on in the house, by the end of the day last night, there was still leftover stuff to do and I said I'd take care of it today. Because we pulled out the floor, we unhooked the dishwasher. There was a whole sink full of dishes from the asbestos dust incident that needed to be washed. All three laundry baskets are full. I have work e-mails to return and papers to edit. There is food shopping that needs to be done. I have changed three times already because I've been near tears each time I put a new outfit out, because HOW CAN THIS NOT FIT, I JUST BOUGHT IT!?!?!? The discarded clothes corpses are lining my bedroom floor and I don't have the energy to pick them up and put them in the "no longer fits me because I'm a fat ass" box. In the midst of my last mini-breakdown, the gutter people came to install our new gutters (oh yes, please take another 5K out of my checking account for home improvements on a home that is now worth 60K less than when we bought it two years ago, despite putting over 40K of improvements in. Thank you mortgage lending crisis and home prices in NJ. I digressed, didn't I?) .

So yeah, the gutter people come. Did I have any clue the gutter people were coming? Nope. They just showed up. No appointments. Then I had to move the car out of the driveway and then they needed an outdoor power source. What am I supposed to do with my uber-whiney two-year old while I traipse around looking for the outdoor plug. I called Mike's cell phone twice and he didn't answer and eventually I had to call the base and have them find him for me. And I promptly began to scream into the phone about how can they just show up? I broke the garage door from the inside trying to open it and couldn't fix it. I had to go through our old greenhouse to remove the timer from the outdoor lights so they could use that outlet. I took out all of my anger and frustrations on the day on him, when of course, nothing was his fault. And by the end of it, I was in tears. There's gutter people making a ton of noise outside, there's still a sink full of dishes, despite me washing for 45 minutes this morning. There's still three loads of laundry to do. My hips hurt. None of my clothes fit. I feel fat and bloated. The bathroom needs to be cleaned. I have to edit three more papers today. And I keep getting caught on this EFFING CARPET TILE in our kitchen because we have asbestos fucking tile. And then, OHMYGOD is that a TICK on my kid's scalp? (It was and we got it off with vaseline and tweezers, but ewwwwww).

I have an incredibly kind and and patient husband who knew I wasn't angry with him and just let me vent and helped me with the situation. And when I said, "I'm just so overwhelmed today," he left work early and came home to help me. And, I don't like to be alone in the house with the baby with men working. Normally, he works his schedule around this, but we had no idea they were coming. They needed help and info that I couldn't help them with.

As I type this, I know I overreacted and that I could have handled the situation better. But in the moment, I just couldn't deal with anything else going wrong. So, I may have had a little pregnancy breakdown. And by little, I mean ginormous. If I were a toddler, I'd have been on the floor, kicking, crying and screaming.

There are some days that I handle the chaos that is my life pretty well. But there are other days when I just want to sit down, give up, and cry. Today was one of those days. I'm just incredibly thankful I have a husband who will pick up my pieces when I break into a million of them.

Earth Day

Today at some point, Mike and I will take Charlotte to the local greenhouse and pick up a little tree for her to plant. We'll tell her it's Earth Day and that we are helping make the world a better place. We teach her to throw away her garbage, to respect the wildlife and plantlife outside, and to help learn to do her part. When she's old enough, she'll come with me when I volunteer and learn the meaning of giving back.

What do you do with your kids on Earth Day to help them be more aware? Do you do anything traditional, like plant a tree every year or attend a festival?

-----

My Earth Day post is up at Chop. Stir. Mix. I talk about how you can be a "greener" eater and how you can live cleaner in your kitchen.

Cass also posted a vegetable hummus wrap that looks fantastic and perfect for today.

Go check us out.

Better (and a clingy toddler)

Well, it couldn't get much worse, so today was better than yesterday. I did have to drag my ass up at 5:45, despite swearing that I had just fallen asleep and there was no way it was morning. I left work early today, took a half-sick day, and came home and napped. I needed it. BAAAAD.

We went out and bought a new area rug, even though I really like the one we had because why? Oh, right. ASBESTOS. My arch nemesis. Did you know you can't vacuum asbestos dust? Everything must be wet wiped or mopped. And if you do vacuum it, which is stupid because you can kick dust in the air, you need one with a HEPA filter and then they recommend you throw the vacuum away. Um, creamofsomeyoungguy? I am NOT throwing away my Dyson. SO, we had to toss our very nice 8X11 area rug, Charlotte's Dora couch, her Elmo chair, and some throw pillows. She hasn't noticed yet, so we hope to replace them before she does. I can't believe I am about to say this, but I am kind of glad now that we don't have our couch yet, because then what? How would we have dealt with that? The futon and chair were covered with blankets so those we just tossed in the wash. Ok, enough asbestos talk. Let's move on to Weird Kid Behavior.

On Saturday afternoon, we left for Philly for the night for a birthday party. We got a room to enjoy what is most likely our last night away from home for quite some time and Mike's parents took Charlotte for the night. They have a crib set up in their house, but she has never spent the night. Apparently, she fought them a little but eventually went down and woke up fairly early, but in a decent enough mood. She has fun with them and they took her to the park and shopping. However, when they brought her back on Sunday, she morphed into Weird Klingon Kid. She is not a clingy kid AT ALL. She has never cried, ever, when I drop her off in the morning. If anything, she is happy to be there with her "Miss Shell" and "fwiends" and kisses me and says "bye momma! see-oo later!" She doesn't cry if Mike or I leaves the house. She has always been pretty good with babysitters. She is as independent and self-sufficient as any two-year old can be. However, on Sunday, I couldn't put her down. She wanted me to hold her and carry her. She kept giving me hugs and kisses and wanted "up, up, up" ALL. DAY. "Momma, MY momma. Where's MY MOMMA?!?!" She cried if I walked out of a room, or if Mike went out the front door "Where Daddy GO? Daddy come back NOW!" She wouldn't go to my mother - which is INSANE because she loves her some MeMa and sees her every Wednesday. She wouldn't go to my sister or my father. She'd hug my nephew (he's 5) but that's it. It was weird. Today was a little better, but she still whined when one of us walked outside or she lost sight of us. She wasn't upset when I dropped her off at her dayhome, but she was pissed when I went to pee and shut the door or when Mike went to take the garbage out.

Have any of you experienced this? Is she upset because I left her overnight? Was she scared and though we wouldn't come back and this is why she's so clingy? I want a kid who is secure enough to be left in the safe care of relatives if/when Mike an I ever go someplace or have an emergency. We've left her overnight before, but only in our house and someone stayed here, never somewhere else. Is it just a phase that has coincided with us leaving her overnight? Do two-year-olds suddenly get separation anxiety even if they never had it before? Because dude, I am NOT one of those parents who can't leave their kids and who wants to spend every waking moment with them. I want out every once in a while, and I don't want to worry I'm upsetting her making her extra clingy just because I am doing so. I know she's safe and well-taken care of, so I want to enjoy the one night a year I go out. I packed all her comfort items and made sure she had her favorite books and pajamas. Should I have done anything different?

I'll take things that suck for $800 Alex

Today was not one of the better days we've ever had.

On my way home from Philly, I got a speeding ticket. Normally, I'm really good about watching my speed, but I was in a heated discussion with Mike, my brother-in-law Mark and my best friend Bridget. I was not paying attention and when I passed the cop, I looked at my speedometer and asked them "should I just pull over now to save him the trip?" He clocked me going 83 which is better than what I thought I was going, which is just too abhorrent to mention, given the fact that I have three (four including my Sawyer) passengers in my car. Thankfully, he was one of few nice state troopers and only wrote me a ticket for 74 in a 65. I wasn't upset, because I WAS speeding and I deserved the ticket. I will pay it. But, how sucktastic?

Then, we get home to meet my Dad who is going to help us (read: Mike) pull up the existing kitchen floor. It started out easy enough, though physically laborious, didn't seem like it would take more than a few hours. There was a layer of linoleum, then plywood, then another layer of linoleum, then another layer of plywood and then the original floor. (Don't worry, there are pictures to come of the awesomeness that was this project.) To get through it quicker, they used a circular saw and cut it into large squares. When we started to get to the bottom layer and try and peel it up, Mike thought out loud, "I hope this isn't asbestos flooring since the house was built in 1960." So they stopped what they were doing and we called Home Depot to ask what we should do. After describing the tile and such, the guy said it was most likely asbestos vinyl and mastic. They said that the tile guys would encapsulate it with their tiley-guy-stuff and that it is safe if left alone. However, this was AFTER they had sawed into it, kicked dust all over the house, and my father broke into a bunch of pieces.

Commence freak out.

I called everyone I knew that knew anything. I called poison control. Thankfully, when they were sawing into it, Charlotte was asleep upstairs in her room. Also, I had turned the heater/ac unit off when we got home so the dust was not being brought into the vents. After thoroughly convincing myself that we were all going to get lung cancer or mesothilioma in 30 years, we decided that I would take Charlotte to my mom's house while Mike stayed back. He would finish pulling up the plywood (NOT the asbestos floor) and he would wet-wipe dust everything like instructed (with a mask of course). Then, we had a few boxes of carpet tiles left over from the basement and he used that to "carpet" the kitchen until the tile guys can come, eliminating any possibility of kicking up any more dust.

From my research, asbestos itself is not harmful, especially if it is in good condition (which this floor was). It is the fibers that become airborne in dust when the asbestos becomes friable, broken, or sanded. And also from my research, most people who do get ill from it are factory workers or demolitionists who were exposed over the course of many years. According to poison control (who must think I'm an asshole of a terrible mother since this is the SECOND time they have me on record as calling), Charlotte was safe as long as she didn't breathe any in, the fetus is safe because he doesn't breathe air, and in all likelihood, all of us are safe as well because the exposure was so minimal.

So my day in a nutshell: speeding ticket and asbestos. Awesome, huh?

The trail of tears

Well, we all know what kind of morning I had.

It did get a little better as we went for a walk and blew bubbles outside. She was in less dillhole-ish mood when she went down for her nap.

Then she woke from her nap early because Mr. Measurer Man for tile came an hour earlier than he was supposed to and accidentally slammed the door on his way out. He was a nice guy and was so quiet the whole time he was here, but the door just shut a little too roughly as he was leaving. So she did not wake up much happier than she was before she went down.

We left shortly after for her haircut - her very first! She was bald for almost the first whole year of her life, as you can see here:

So, we went to a place specific for kids and it was really cute. They put her in a Barbie car and all seemed well until they put the cape thing on her. Here is the evolution as it unfolded (I did not have my good camera and didn't realize that my Elph was set on Manual mode so almost all the pictures are crap, but you get the general idea)

Ok, not so bad.

Getting a little upset

OHMYGOD MOMMA, What is she doing to me?

The horror!

So yeah, the haircut? Notsomuch. She kept yelling "ouch! it hurt! hurt!" when there was no way she was in pain. The lady gave her a lollipop and she seemed to perk up almost immediately afterwards. Then we stopped for dinner and even though she is on a hunger strike today, I managed to take some pictures while scarfing down a burrito. Despite the agony we seemingly put her in for the whole three minutes it took to cut her hair, isn't the absolute CUTENESS so worth it?





Afterwards, we took her to the beach for ice cream and to enjoy the ocean. I think I take it for granted that we live less than 15 minutes from the shore. It was such a gorgeous night that we thought sitting on a blanket watching the waves with Charlotte would be a great end to a pretty stressful day. Nay. NAY.

My kid, the only one I've ever encountered of her type, DOES NOT LIKE THE BEACH. Um, What. The. Eff? She didn't like walking on the sand. So I carried her. She didn't like the sand on the blanket, and cried that she was "messy" and her "tootsies" were dirty. And I mean CAH-RIED! So, we laughed it off and carried her back to the boardwalk, where she was happy as a clam, watching the people play the games, trying to play with the kids, eating her ice cream and walking with us. It turned out to be a nice evening, but seriously? A Jersey girl that doesn't like the beach? What IS this child?

What a day. Now, it's 8 pm and I am ready to have a beer and go to bed. Oh wait, I can't effing drink beer. Sawyer owes me when he's 21. I'm keeping track.

The Food Blog is Up!

It's ready everyone.

Chop. Stir. Mix. is up.

Come, read, listen to your stomach's growl. Send us your favorite recipes, the stories behind them, and add your comments to the recipes if you've made them, what your suggestions are, etc.

We're going to be doing weekly features on healthy eating for your toddler/children, such as tips, tricks, and recipes to get them to eat well without them knowing it (and without food that taste like ass-on-a-stick).

We're planning to bring you articles on new foods trends, recipes you normally never would have thought about, and healthful eating tips.

We'd also like to start a weekly ethnic food feature. So if you have Abuela's Arroz recipe or Tante Ingrid's cookies, send them our way.

If anyone out there is on a weight loss plan and would like to contribute to a regular posting on that subject, perhaps following your weight loss, let us know!

Is anyone a vegetarian or vegan? Would you like to contribute regular articles to a vegetarian living section? Or just send us your recipes!

More than anything, we want this to be a conversational blog, with stories and personal experiences along with our recipes and articles.

So, please come visit us. Email us.

And if you feel like pimping us, here is a little button for you that you can put on your sidebar

Use this code, replacing the [ and ] with <>

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Abu Dhabi

Does anyone remember the Garfield cartoons where he kept trying to ship the little gray kitten Nermal to Abu Dhabi?

Yeah, that's what I'd like to do with my toddler today. Either that, or put her out by the curb with a "FREE to a good home" sign draped around her neck.

She woke up at 6:15 this morning, not terribly early but not the 7 am I have come to know and love after a year and a half of her waking at 5:30-6. She also usually wakes up quite happy, talking in her crib, counting her bippies or playing with her bears. But today, she woke up whining, the "eheh, heh, eh-heh" haunting me from the monitor. I got her and she immediately had a meltdown. She didn't have enough arms to hold all of her blankies, bippes, and bears she wanted to carry. She wanted to hold my clean clothes for my shower. She didn't want to walk down the stairs. I had to carry her. She cried the whole time I was changing her diaper and out of her pajamas. She wanted to wear MY clothes I had brought down, not hers. Which, due to the fact that my clothes can double as tents for a ground unit, won't work. Then she cried because she got cream cheese on her shirt. Then she cried because I wouldn't let her use Daddy's toothbrush.

She has thrown herself to the floor and cried no less than 10 times already today and its not even 10 am, and I am not exaggerating. I want to be patient and calm because I know ultimately, that she is not doing this to spite me. I'm sure there is a good reason for her bad morning. Her back molars have started to come through, so I gave her Motrin. Didn't seem to make a difference. She ate a whole block of very expensive aged sharp cheddar the day before yesterday (my kid has very good taste) so maybe she is constipated? Maybe she has a stomachache? No fever, so not likely a UTI. Maybe she is getting sick, which would suck because she's spending the weekend with Gramma and Grampa while Mike and I go to Philly for the night to celebrate "Unka Brian's" 30th birthday.

Maybe just a bad day? Aren't we all entitled to them?

I just can't stop looking at the clock waiting for naptime, so maybe she'll wake up a new kid, refreshed and we can go play outside, and make it to her appointment for her VERY FIRST HAIRCUT this afternoon! Her mullet hair is finally in her eyes and she won't keep a clip in, so it is time!

How do you keep your patience on days like this? What are your methods to dealing with a toddler, who for lack of better wording, is being a total dillhole?

Good things all around

1) The couch people called. As of this time next week, my jiggly pregnant ass will be typing to you from my new Klaussner upholstered-by-Bolivian-pygmies-on-a-loom couch. Yahoo! I would yodel if I knew how without sounding like a seal within inches of death. He said since "we've been so patient," he is rushing the delivery. Like we had a choice. And like it's "rushing" anything when it's already four weeks late.

2) Had another OB appointment today. I passed my glucose test perfectly. So, I celebrated by making rice krispie treats. And subsequently eating almost all of them.

3) Fetus McLazypants did indeed flip like I surmised, which is probably why I have been feeling less "pressure" in Mount Hinterlands. He is head down and hopefully the little bastard stays that way, because even though I still have some ligament pain, it is definitely less than it was. He is also measuring a little large at over two pounds already. It is looking less and less likely that I'll make it to my due date but we'll see.

4) We were going to get cheap linoleum for the kitchen, but we had a 10% coupon to Home Depot and there was a special on installation for another 10% off, so we splurged and are getting tile - porcelain tile! They are coming to measure tomorrow and we should have it installed within the next two weeks as well. A couch! And a new floor! I can hardly contain myself. Makes me want to invite you all over and have a party!

5) Charlotte peed on Mike's foot when she was getting ready for her bath tonight. That made me giggle.

Embarassing Confessions

-I am obsessed with the RENT soundtrack. I've seen the play on Broadway three times and can quote it word for word. Though, the movie? Notsomuch. (But Taye Diggs can be on my TV screen anytime his fine ass wants)

-Sometimes, I play movie scores and pretend that everything I'm doing is VERY dramatic.

-I like ketchup on my macaroni and cheese.

-I'd rather read a book with a glass of wine than go to a loud movie.

-I have irrational fears of everyone dying or someone hurting my child(ren).

-I haven't been to the dentist in four years. (I KNOW, okay! I have good teeth and the dentist scares me and I need loads of medicine to even go and now I can't because I'm pregnant, so it has to wait at least a few more months).

-I sing in the car and if someone looks at me funny, I wink at them and make kissy faces.

-I dance in the shower.

-I am constantly worried I have boogers, so I'm always checking up my nose-holes and cleaning them out with tissues.

-I have a very difficult time using public bathrooms (which sucks when you're pregnant and pee every 4.3 seconds) and can almost NEVER go number two anywhere other than home.

-I cry when I watch/listen to the news, which is why I no longer do so.

-In college, I once got so um, inebriated, I had a whole conversation with a lamp.

-I like that MMMBop song by Hanson.

-I had a sex dream about The Hoff (last pregnancy).

-I love Tom Jones.

-I could watch the Indiana Jones' movies every day and never get bored of them.

-I have two Clay Aiken CDs.

What are your embarassing confessions? Dish. I want to know.

If you want my body and you think I'm sexy

C'MON SUGAR LET ME KNOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOW!

I have now cursed you with the Rod Stewart song that has been in my head since I put on this awesome ensemble after walking in the door from work today

(26 weeks)

Because really, is there anything sexier than a pregnant woman in her husband's old pajama pants, whose arm can barely reach under her belly anymore? I think not! You know you want this! (sing lyrics to Rod Stewart song again)

I digress.

---

I'm now about to overload you on cute. If you don't think you can handle it after seeing my sexy ass up top, now is the time to leave.

Yesterday, while playing outside, Mike and Charlotte accidentally unearthed a nest. With four of these little guys:

(Cue: Awwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwww)

This little guy was so terrified, he let me pick him up so I could move him to a safer location after he scampered to the middle of our back deck. He barely fit in the palm of my hand. Mike felt terrible thinking he had disturbed their home, essentially issuing a bunny death sentence, but I think they were old enough to be okay on their own and was pretty certain the mom would come looking for them once we got in the house and stopped making noise.

And since I was getting that pic off my camera, I decided to unload some toddler-in-the-park-thank-god-spring-is-here pics.

And lastly, once we got home on Saturday morning from the park, I was so excited to see the dogwood tree blooming (and there's a cherry blossom to the right that has since bloomed) that I had to take a picture:

What I need from you

Cass and I are getting the food/recipe blog up and running, and without patting ourselves on the back too much, I think it is coming along pretty dang swimmingly.

For those of you that commented that you would like to share, here is what we need from you. Send us your entry in Word or directly in an email, with a little background/anecdote and your recipe. Above all else, I want this to be a conversational food blog, where we share our stories, our lives, and ourselves as well as our recipes.

We will format it, and link it back to your blog as well (make sure you include any html sites/codes). We are going to post 2-4 entries a week at least at first, until we get things rolling. Also, if you have any pictures you'd like to go with your entry, you can either host them somewhere else and just paste the code like you would in a blog entry, or send them as attachments with your submission and let us know where to insert them, and we will take care of that for you.

If you have already posted a blog entry of your own with a recipe and you'd like to use that one, just copy and paste the it into an email or word file and we will repost it here, linked back to your original.

We are planning to go live on Monday, and will be working over the weekend to add content, links, and information. If there's anything you'd like to see on the blog that you find lacking on other recipe sites, let me know. I'm very open to ideas and suggestions.

Feel free to send as many as you like or send us one a week or so to be a regular contributor. We will also have buttons ready for your blogs to link back to us.

Email Us Here

A fun way to start your morning

After staying up way later than I should have working on the new food/recipe blog (which by the way, thanks to SciFi Dad is coming along AWESOME), I finally settled into sleep at a little before midnight. Knowing I had to get up at 6 am for work, I set my alarm. What I forgot was that the power strip had been shut off the night before and my alarm was reset to midnight. So by the time I fell asleep, the alarm was beeping that it was time to get up. I started to rouse when I realized Mike was still in the bed. He leaves an hour before me. And it was only 12:01. Duh. So, I reset my alarm for 6, and went back to sleep.

At 4:10 am, our security alarm went off. I was jolted out of my dream of David Boreanz caressing me on a beach in Tripoli to thoughts that someone was in our house. Someone is trying to get in my house. Oh god, why don't I have a gun or knife or something? Mike jolted out of bed and ran downstairs. I thought he should take a bat or a golf club or something but by the time I realized we have no sports equipment in the house, he was already down the stairs, ready to confront the assailant in his boxer briefs. Of course, now that the situation is over I can laugh at the thought of my big burly husband going to confront whatever set off the alarm in nothing but his skivvies. At the time, I was frozen. Do I go to the baby? Do I barricade us in there? Do I look for Mike's pocket knife and hide at the top of the stairs? He disengaged the alarm and set about checking the house. But when he came back to bed, I was still scared. What if someone got in through the back door and was hiding somewhere and locked the door behind him so we wouldn't assume this? Should we get the baby in here with us and call the police just to check? We both went back downstairs and checked the house and I got the Slomin's people on the phone. What was our password? Is everything okay? Why did our alarm go off? It turns out that the phone line went out for one reason or another, probably routine maintenance, and this set the alarm off because the way the security system is set up, when the phones go dead, they assume they have been cut. They were not. No one was in our house. We were safe.

Needless to say, sleep never really found us again and the alarm woke both babies. Charlotte stirred restlessly in her crib, Sawyer in my womb. We got out of bed shortly after to start our day, all a little worse for wear. But safe.

A new blog?

If I started a new recipe blog, would you guys read it? And/or actually make the recipes?

I've been baking and concocting all kinds of healthy stuff over the last year or so for a picky toddler - multigrain orange muffins, high-fiber banana bread, etc. - and a few of you have asked for the recipes.

I also of course have my own naughty recipes (read: the most delicious banana chocolate chip muffins ever) and other savory tips and tricks for quick and easy meals.

I just don't want to go through the trouble of setting one up if there is no interest. But if you guys are for it, I'd totally do it and try to update it at least 3 times a week.

Also, I'm open to the idea of contributors. If anyone is interested, I can make them blog members, and they too can post yummy/healthy/vegetarian recipes.

What do you think?

A conversation with my 23-month old con artist

Me: Do you have a poopa-heinie?

Charlotte: No!

Me: Are you lying?

Charlotte: Yes!

Me: Would you like me to change your diaper?

Charlotte: No!

Me: So, you'd rather sit in poop?

Charlotte: (comes on my lap and gives me hugs): I sit wif you? Awwwww, cozy.

Why is changing a diaper such a struggle?

A whole lotta nothing

Still no couch. Not even a call on the couch. We're going to call again today to see if they have a status. We're planning a small party here for Charlotte's second birthday and if I don't have my couch by then, I think I may stroke out.

We're also planning on getting a new kitchen floor in before then, as well as fix up the backyard a little. To say it suffered a rough winter is an understatement. We really need a landscaper/lawn service guy, but they are so expensive, especially when you have almost an acre of land. In my head, I have all these wonderful ideas of how I'd like to make it, and visions of me sitting outside in the sun, making my ideas happen. A rock wall here. A bed of lillies there. Tomatoes over there. No weeds. But then the reality of my life kicks in and I realize with one small child and another on the way, I just don't have the time (or energy) to do it myself. So it suffers. We will weed in the next week or so, and I will go out and buy my hanging planters and make my baskets, but I think that may be it for this year.

My hips hurt less this week than last, and I'm hoping the little lazy guy may have switched. Don't get me wrong, they still hurt but just not to the extent they did last week. This week, however, I have this added addition of feeling like I can't breathe in almost all positions. Unless I am sitting pretty much upright, I feel like I can't get a deep breath in, which leads me to panic a little, which makes my breathing worse I'm sure. I'm okay if I'm flat on my side or sitting upright, but prop me up with pillows to watch TV or read and I may flatline in seconds.

I now go to the OB every two weeks, so I go this Thursday and will see where he is and also find out if I passed my glucose test. Is it wrong that I am eating every piece of cake, candy, and chocolate in anticipation of failing? I figure if he tells me no more sugar at least I'll have had this week of glory.

And if you haven't already done this, go to my last post and give me your life story in six words. Some of the ones you guys came up with were so great. Go read them!

Six words

Angie over at All Adither had this post up a couple weeks back about writing your life story in six words or less, after SMITH magazine and Harper Perennial released a book called: Not Quite What I Was Planning--Six Word Memoirs By Writers Famous and Obscure.

And then there was this article over at ParentDish about writing your birth story in six words or less.

I found both of these ideas riveting and incredibly cool. And some of the samples on ParentDish and comments left on both sites were witty and fun to read.

So, I decided to do my own.

Life story:

It all leads up to this.

Birth story:

Easy pregnancy. Easy labor. Colic. Love.

In turn, I want to know yours. Go back to your site, write your own post, link back to this post, then come back here and fill out Mr. Linky with your own six-word memoirs so people can go visit you and read yours.

A couple of things

1) You are THE WORST group of people to ask on a whether or not to get a puppy! (I mean that in the nicest way possible.) It was almost exactly split, with half of you being in the mindset "You're already fucked anyway. Just add one more thing that craps in your kitchen and will destroy your house." The other half was like "Wait. You'll run into traffic. Your rope will disintegrate as you fruitlessly try and hold onto your fraying fibers of sanity." I do appreciate all of your input, and it did help us make a decision.

2) We've decided to wait on a puppy until next spring. I just have puppy fever. Everywhere I go outside - to the park, to the playground - there are new cute squishy little puppies. This feeling of needing one RIGHTNOW is hopefully fleeting. And I DO miss having a dog. Terribly. But, we decided that it is much easier to regret not getting a dog, than to regret having one. Right? Plus, I'd love to really get into training with this new dog to maybe be a therapy dog (we've selected a breeder that has bred for temperament and many of their dogs are agility or therapy dogs, in senior centers and hospitals) as that's something I've always wanted to add to my volunteer repertoire. And it will be much easier when the baby is settled and into a routine and we can attend the training sessions.

3) My kid has the weirdest fashion sense. But a killer ability to accesorize and match:

(princess skirt as dress, highlighted by butterfly choker)

(nightgown and matching snowboots)

Think we have new trends?

Your opinion

I've never NOT had a dog. Since we put Pandora down in October, this six-month stretch of time has been the only time in my life (other than when I was away at college) that I've not had a dog. I grew up with them, and at points, there'd be two, three, even four in our house at once. We also had cats, birds, fish, hamsters, bunnies. Usually not all at once, but sometimes it seemed our house was a menagerie. It was normal to me -- commonplace. It was just how we were. Mom took in strays. Dad wanted a bunny. Amy kept adopting dogs. People without pets seemed weird to me as a kid. I mean, how could you not want a pet? A cute puppy to play with or a kitten to cuddle with? As an adult, I realize that they just don't fit into some people's lives. That some people travel a lot, or work often, and it would be cruel to the animal to be boarded or alone all the time.

Then, we had another heartbreak when we tried to adopt Bella, an older dog we found at a shelter. She was incredibly sweet and good with Charlotte, but aggressive towards our cats.

We talk about getting another puppy, and after researching breeds and statistics, have decided on a Golden Retriever. Now, the question is when. When is the right time? Is there ever a right time to get a puppy? We found a breeder that has a male pup available on May 11, coincidentally also Charlotte's second birthday. This would mean having a puppy and a newborn in the house at the same time.

Pros:
1) I'm up in the middle of the night anyway to let the dog out.
2) I'm already on maternity leave so the dog will never be alone (even though there is usually always someone here)
3) The puppy and the babies will grow up together, something I always wanted.
4) It's warm out, so we won't be standing outside in the dark and cold with a new puppy, a mistake we made when we got Pandora in October.

Cons:
1) Cleaning up messes from newborn, toddler, AND a puppy.
2) Puppy barking could wake sleeping baby or toddler (though we managed this just fine when we had Pandora and Charlotte was a newborn).
3) The money involved in a new puppy when I'll be out of work for three months on maternity leave.

We could also decide to wait a year, until after Sawyer is born and settled and then bring a dog into our family.

Pros:
1) I'll be less tired from a newborn and better able to handle training a puppy.
2) I will be back at work and money should not be a problem.

Cons:
1) I will be at work and the dog will be alone on Mondays for up to 8 hours, which means for some time, we'll also have to pay to get a petsitter to come and let him/her out. Because I do not leave my dogs, especially a little puppy, alone for that long. I find it cruel, at least until they can hold their bladders.
2) I will be sleeping properly (in theory) and then have to get up in the middle of the night to let the dog out. Perhaps waking a sleeping child.

We have no intention of traveling anytime soon so I'm not worried about that. And we have family (who all have dogs themselves) who would add one more to the mix for a week or so for us if we ever needed to go anywhere.

Even though it comes down to a very personal choice for us and our family, I am interested in your opinion. I know many of you have dogs and couldn't imagine life without them, or raising your kids without pets. I also know that to an outsider, I must look like a total lunatic for even considering getting a puppy at 6-months-pregnant with a two-year old. Charlotte loves dogs, and we have such a big fenced-in yard, that it seems such a waste and leaves such an empty space in our lives not to have one.

So, what do you think?

Thanks

I wanted to thank you all for your comments, emails, and commiseration. It's nice to know I'm not alone in these feelings; that it is okay to feel sad, to mourn the loss of my body and my sense of self.

That being said, today has been a bit better. Maybe it was the three cups of coffee I had or the fact that something monumental happened this morning. Ready for it? I took a shower and Charlotte sat and watched TV and there was no dead cats or calls to poison control when I was done. I had a laundry basket in the living room from bringing down some stuff and she wanted to sit in it. I told her she could sit in it and watch Dora while I showered. I did a quick walk-through of the house, making sure all the cabinets were properly latched, there were no knives or heavy objects on any counter she could get to, that the door was dead-bolted since she now knows how to open it. When I first started the water, I thought for sure, she'd run in and demand to come in with me or hold the curtain open, letting cold air in and water out. But I just said "Momma is going to shower. Go watch Dora in your basket." And she DID. And it was fabulous.

We then went outside to enjoy what was left of the nice weather and took a short walk. Then we sat out front and blew bubbles. Then we went out back and picked daffodils to put in the house. It was a good morning.

I also found out that my almost-two-year old knows her alphabet. I mean, of course she can sing the song, but I never thought she actually knew what she was singing. We stopped at a sign on our walk and she started yelling "O! S! E! M!" and pointing to the letters, and I damn near died. I had NO idea she knew what letters were what. So I rummaged around in the house and found an alphabet book and we have been practicing the letters and sounds. She doesn't know them all, but she knows at least half. I guess I'm kind of an asshole for not even realizing she knew this, but we never worked on them. She and I read tons of books and go through her flash cards and work on animals, colors, shapes, and numbers. She can count to 13, knows most shapes, and can draw a circle and a star. She knows that there are different colors but still calls everything "blue," but for some bizarre reason, it never occurred to me to teach her the alphabet. So thank you Sesame Street, for picking up my slack.

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While Charlotte napped today, I finished this book:

Yesterday when I started it, I was really into it from the beginning, drawn into the characters and the way the narration shifted through points in time. I felt for these people, felt like I knew them, or that I wanted to. I read anxiously trying to get to the end, because I knew that it was going to be as wonderful as the rest of the story. And, for me, it wasn't. I won't go further as I don't want to ruin it in case anyone is reading it. I'd still recommend it though. Reading it for the amazing narrative it is in itself is worth it.

What are you reading?

A sense

Today was gorgeous outside. Hot even. I quickly wished I had on flip flops instead of sneakers and by the baby's rosy cheeks, she wished I had put her in shorts rather than jeans.

After I worked and Mike came home, we went to pick up Charlotte from her dayhome and headed to the local reservoir playground. She played for awhile and then we went for a little walk. Mike was the chaser of all things child, and I was the waddler, a few paces behind, carrying the blankie she insisted on having, her juice, and the camera.

I'd be lying if I said I wasn't still a little bummed despite the wonderful weather. I was hoping it would lift my spirits. I spent the day working in the bright kitchen, windows open, the smell of daffodils in the air that moved the hair across my face with each breeze. And still, I felt this deep sense of disconnect, a sort of sadness. I can no longer chase my child. Picking her up sends sharp pains into my hips. Getting in and out of a chair feels like I am being pulled apart by angry ancient Roman horses. When I walk, each step pulls at the already taught ligaments under my swollen belly. In the middle of the night, I roll over in my sleep and am jolted awake by fiery stabbing knives in my pelvis.

And though pains during pregnancy are expected and part of life, I am still left with this melancholy. I so loved being pregnant with Charlotte. Each new day I felt more and more alive, like I was the most powerful being. I was creating and nurturing a life. It was an awe-inspiring time in my life. Other than delivering early, the pregnancy was smooth and uneventful. I loved taking walks, I loved people asking me about my little girl, and what were we going to name her? I loved being her vessel. It made me happy.

This time, however, for whatever reason you choose to believe - I am carrying lower, I am bigger this time, I have a toddler to chase after, I have less time to rest - I am truly in an uncomfortable pain all day. To the point where normal daily activities like sweeping or showering are harder and I move slower. I am a fast-paced high-energy (some would say high-strung) person, and being slowed sucks. Then because I am not sleeping well, I am so tired and filled with a sense of dread that this is how it's going to be FOREVER, that it will never change, that I could just cry in my brownies.

There is this looming ache inside -- this question of how in the hell I am going to get through this? How can I do this for three more months? If I am in this much discomfort now when my baby is only 2 pounds, how bad is it going to be when he is full term? I so wanted to enjoy this pregnancy, to revel in it the way I did with Charlotte, and yet I find myself quickly wishing for the end, to just get to 37 weeks so I can beg my doctor to just get this kid out of me. And with so much more to go, it leaves me with such despair that I feel so guilty. How can I not be so abundantly thrilled that I have the ability to carry a baby? When so many others would give everything they have to feel my aches and pains? How can I possibly be so ungrateful?

I am sad because I feel I am letting people down. Mike asks me how I feel all the time and my retorts are always short. "Tired." "Sore." "Uncomfortable." He says in passing, "You were so much happier last time," not intending for it to sting, or said with anything other than love, yet leaving a welt on my already sore soul nonetheless. I feel like I am letting Charlotte down each time I put on the TV because I can't bear the thought of getting off the chair and onto the floor to play with her. I feel like I am letting this baby down because I don't love carrying him the way I loved every second of my pregnancy with his sister. I feel like I am letting myself down because I am letting this get to me. I am letting it bring me down.

I keep hoping it's because of the position he is in, that maybe when he decides to flip out of breech, there will be less pressure. Less feeling like I am being expanded from the inside at a rate my bones and ligaments can't handle. Because I don't like me this way. And I worry that soon, people around me will start to not like me this way either. Pain and discomfort are permeable. People feel them in others. It can wear you down and make you angry, even if the pain is not your own.

I know this feeling will pass. I am loved. And well-taken care of. But for now, I am sad. But this is what keeps a smile on my face each day. This and knowing that, soon, there'll be one more set of rosy cheeks to love:

Ya take the good, ya take the bad....

Things I dislike about this day:

1) Waiting two and a half hours for my glucose test.
2) The rude ladies at the lab for said test. When I threatened them with the "I'm six months pregnant and fasting and you're making me wait so long that I may eat you," they were not amused.
3) The fact that I had to pee so badly on the way home from the test for waiting so long, I didn't even have the time to stop at Dunkin Donuts for my crack, for fear I would pee the seat.
4) Eating a cinnamon jelly belly thinking it was a "red" flavor. Blech.
5) I have to work.

Things I like about this day:

1) Spring seems to have stopped by for a quick visit. I have the windows open and refuse to work in the basement, even though the big monitor is there, because so is the DARK and the DREARY. I'll stick with my laptop on the kitchen table as long as it means I can see the sunlight.
2) I have a whole bag of jelly bellies.
3) We're going to BBQ later.
4) Mike had his last post-op appointment and his eyes look great. He says he can see almost as well as he could with his contacts in before the surgery, except in the left eye, which is the one the contact fell out of, so it is a few days behind in healing. He also had his tear ducts plugged to keep his eyes from draining so they can stay more moist. They will apparently dissolve on their own. (Note: ewww)
5) I haven't sneeze-peed yet.

Mr. Handy

Mike had to caulk something today, and though relatively handy around the house, is not an expert at caulking. So he had to read some instructions to make sure he did it right.

Here are the phrases he gleamed great giddy joy from reading aloud:

1) Squeeze the CAULK to get the flow started.
2) First, you have to put the CAULK in the CRACK.
3) Then you have to finger the CRACK.
4) Make sure the CAULK is smooth.
5) Ensure the CRACK is clean afterwards.

Sigh.

Now with a little less whine, and a little more back fat!

I realize I was a wee bit whiny in my last post about the pain, the pressure, and OHDOG - the peeing! And, yes SciFi Dad is right (though, write this down in history because I rarely admit men are right about anything), I will have my son to hold at the end of this journey. Which of course, will make all the pain and discomfort worth it. And like I've mentioned before, I am healthy and more thankful for that than any of you know. In the meantime, however, some days kind of suck.

I am feeling physically better today and it seems that the days my hips hurt the most are the days I spend a lot of time driving. Unfortunately, not driving is not an option at least as long as I am working, which I plan to do up to a week or so before delivery. So I am just going to have to suck it up. It is just hard to find a comfortable position almost anywhere. Lying on my back to watch TV in bed leaves me breathless, like someone is sitting on my stomach, which I guess technically there is. Lying on my side with a pillow, or with this wonderful wedge shoved under my girth, is helpful, but I have a hard time reading, watching TV, or writing in this position. Sitting in the big lounge chair is okay for a bit, with one leg tucked underneath and the other bent at an angle to almost rest my belly on.

I never had this kind of ligament pain with Charlotte, but remember that my sister could barely walk for more than a few minutes during her last trimester when she was pregnant with my nephew. A few people who had both genders left comments on my last post that they experienced this discomfort as well with their sons but not necessarily their daughters. I know that I am carrying bigger and lower this time, so maybe there is some truth to these old wives' tales after all. What do you think?

Here is me at 25 weeks pregnant with Charlotte and you can see how high she was (and - puke - how young/tan/smaller I look).

And here is me now, at 25 weeks pregnant with Sawyer (note the presence of my new friend, Señor Back Fat!)

Not enough brain power for a real post

Things said in this video that may or may not make any sense.

"Honey, get your kid off the thing. Are you going to shoot her?"
-I was referring to the nerf dart he had aimed at her butt.

"I jumpin' like Daddy!"
-I have never seen Daddy jump. He falls down the stairs like a pro though.

"Can you shake your heiney?"
-And she does!

"Pocahantas"
-Me answering (correctly might I add) a Jeopardy question.

"I'm always right"
-Me being obnoxious about getting the Pocahantas question right.

My day in numbers

643: Times I had to pee RIGHT THIS MINUTE or I was sure my bladder would explode.

0.002: Milli-liters I actually peed each time I went.

1: Rest areas I had to stop at to pee on my commute.

3: Times I said "Not till July" when asked "When ARE you due again?"

2: Maternity work blouses I bought two weeks ago that already barely fit.

30: Seconds I had to stop to catch my breath after walking up one measly flight of stairs.

11: Times I said to Mike "I am REALLY uncomfortable today."

1: Days home with Mike before he returns to work on Wednesday.

68: Days it's felt like since Mike has been out of work. (Normally, I love when we're all home together, but not when he can't see.)

0: Minutes my kid napped today.

107: days left in this pregnancy

106: number of days I am going to whine about being really uncomfortable.

3: cookies I've eaten to make myself feel better because I am so uncomfortable so early.

2: times I've googled "round ligament pain worse in second pregnancy" because surely, my hips are going to actually detach from my pelvis.

The Who, What, When, Where, and Why of Toddlers

Why would you never consider touching another person's feet, but you almost instinctively must bite a chubby toddler foot?

Who is the voice of "The Map" on Dora, and Where does he live so I can kill him in his sleep, or at the very least, rip out his vocal cords, rendering him unable to ever sing that "I'm the map" song in that whiny voice of his ever, ever again?

How is it possible that dried-on rice krispies form a molecular bond stronger than that of super-glue? Have you ever tried to remove them from a stainless steel sink?

What is the reasoning behind spinning in a circle so many times you can't walk for a good 30 seconds and then lie on the floor cracking up at yourself?

Where do they learn to lie? "Charlotte, did you just pour your soup on the kitty's head?" "No. I wuv kitty. Daddy do."

Why must they touch every clean window, mirror, and stainless steel surface at the precise moment that they are covered in a fruit ice pop?

How many times a day can I sweep the kitchen floor and still get tiny grains stuck to my feet from the Great Cous-Cous Debacle of Aught-Eight?

When did my baby become a little girl?

The eye saga continues

This is what happens to your husband when he falls down 13 stairs at 2 a.m.:



Thankfully, that is the worst of it. It is a burn from the wooden railing he tried to hold onto as he slid down the flight of stairs. I jumped up faster than I thought it was humanly possible for a six-month pregnant women to move. I got to the bottom of the stairs where he was sitting and helped him up. Now, once it was clear that he was okay, the first thing out of my mouth was, "Not to sound like a total dick, but you can't see in the middle of the night normally, so how is this any different?" He said he had a sharp pain in his eye and misstep. Charlotte will often wake at the sound of our voices or a noise outside. Her 6'4 father falling down a flight of stairs, however, didn't even stir her.

For those that ask to be kept updated on the surgery (i.e., those of you who want to do it but are scared and want to know every detail, cough, Kellie, cough):

The healing process for the PRK seems more annoying and uncomfortable than painful. Vision actually gets worse before better because the epithelial needs to grow back, and it causes a haze and "ghosting" for a few days. He can't read or watch TV. He tries to play his video game but literally has his face 2 inches from the screen. One of his "bandage" contact lenses came out sometime last night or early this morning. The pain was so bad, he couldn't stand. We had to call the doctor, who even though was in a wedding in Manhattan, was nice enough to call back three times checking up on him, and told Mike to just put a new one of his old contacts in. The pain went away immediately and he has been in much better spirits today, although he is pretty useless. We know that the surgery will be worth it in the end, and that save for a bad bandage lens, his pain has been relatively minimal. He has his second post-op appointment tomorrow, and we'll see if he needs another bandage lens or can have them removed. He should be able to see well enough to be back to work by Wednesday.

Cajones

My friend Cass did something I've been wanting to do and am far too chicken shit lily-livered yellow bellied busy to get around to - she opened her own Etsy store with some of her photos. (I think she should put up more!!)

If you get a chance, go check them out. She has a great eye for beautiful scenes.

P.S. If you have your own business and would like me to put a link/button up, let me know. I have started a little section on my left sidebar.

Punch line

One of my pregnant coworkers (there are five of us) just found out her baby is also a boy. She is going to name him Jack. My baby is going to be named Sawyer. How much convincing do you think it will take the other girls to name their babies Hurley, Kate, and Sayid?

Random Parenting Question du Jour

How do you shower and get ready with a toddler? Oh, and then add a newborn in.

Right now, I either get up before Charlotte if I have somewhere to be (i.e., work, errands, anything to do in the morning), so I don't waste any time. If I am not in a rush, I make her either a meal or a snack, stick her in her booster seat, snap the tray on, and push her to the bathroom with me. My problem is this: she is OUTGROWING the booster. And I am freaking out about it. She still uses the seat to sit at the table, but the tray is getting very hard for her to use, teetering close to ramming in her belly, as she is so tall, it would be like you and I eating a table that comes below our belly button. Annoying, no? Other times, I wait until she goes down for a nap, but never have time to enjoy it as during her naptimes, I am furiously trying to edit or return work emails.

I've tried to just let her play in the bathroom with me, even going to far as removing all the things from the drawers and putting her toys in. But, now she can climb and is up on the toilet, dancing on the sink, licking soap, eating toothpaste, and it's just not safe. She opens the curtains and soaks herself. If I put her in front of Dora, she inevitably ends up in the bathroom to harass me, and if I don't leave the door open, what if I couldn't hear her fall or prevent her from doing one of the three million naughty things a day she tries?

I think back to when she was a baby and didn't have a "wake up" time that was consistent. It could be anywhere from 5-7, so getting up before her was impossible. I'd just set my alarm for 6 and go from there. And for the most part, save a late morning, I made it work. But that was with ONE baby. For the sake of argument, let's assume Sawyer will be like this. When do I get up? He will need to eat, Charlotte will need to be changed, fed, and dressed. I will need to shower, get dressed, and presentable. We will all need to be out by 7 am twice a week. How is this even possible? I can feed and change the baby first, put him in a seat, and know he won't be strangling the cat, but what about Charlotte. I can't trust her to be alone with any living being, let alone a human. I'm sure she wouldn't mean to hurt him, but I know she could.

Showering the night before is not an option. I know it works for some people but I personally can't do it. I need clean hair and shaved legs to feel ready for my day. Mike is also out of the house by 5:30 most mornings so he can be home in the afternoons by 2:30, so as much as he'd like to, he is no help in the mornings.

I know this sounds like something really ridiculous to be stressed about, but it's my freak-out-focus of the week.

I'm just hoping some of you have some hints, tips, or tricks for this - how do I shower and get ready with a toddler who cannot be constrained much longer in her booster, and then with a toddler and a newborn?

Maybe I'll just be reallllllllllly dirty.

Where things stand...

As of right now, we won't be getting our couch until at least the end of April. I could chew up the little man on the phone, spit him out, form him back into a man-mold, and repeat the process until I ran out of venom. After speaking to a manager, we were told we could get a loaner couch until our new one arrived. On one hand, I'm thinking this might be great. Hell, anything is better than a futon, right? But what if a cat barfs on it? What if Charlotte pees on it (she has peed on weirder things)? Are we then screwed with fees or something? What do you think? Would you get a "loaner" couch or just suffer until your couch got here?

The worst part of all this, among the fact that I HAVE NO COUCH, is we wanted to plan a birthday party for Charlotte at the house. Since we have the wall knocked down, we have the space to have a little something here, and would have plenty of seating with the new couch. Her birthday is May 11. No couch until at least the end of April from a company that has apparently sold our souls to Bolivian loom-making people. Do I trust them to have a couch here in time?

Ok, I'll stop whining about the couch. There are kids dying of polio, malnutrition, and malaria in Africa. And countless other atrocities all over the world and in our own country. My couch is not that important in the grand scheme of things. I have a home. I have my babies. I should just be thankful and shut my whine-hole.

For those of you keeping updated with the PRK recovery, Mike is in some decent pain today, a little more than yesterday, but is still functional. Most of the pain is from the "bandage" contact lens. When he puts his drops in, this lens floats and hurts like hell. Charlotte sees him apparently "crying" and says "Awww, Daddy sad. Daddy has boo-boo eyes." and rubs his arm or pats his head and gives him a hug. While normally my toddler is trying to behead the cat, rip my earrings out, or bite an inanimate object for one reason or another, it is nice to see she is actually capable of real empathy. It always blows my mind that children so little can have such compassion. And then three seconds later throw a fork at my head.

In case you were wondering...

Turkish gyros from the new place that opened are fantastic.

They are not, however, helpful to my heartburn situation.

/publicserviceannouncement

I'm a terrible wife

Mike passed out around 7 pm on the couch last night, most likely from the double dose of Xanax he took before his eye procedure. He was snoring slightly, but it was no big deal as the house was still awake and the noise was drowned out. After I bathed Charlotte (an activity normally Mike's job) and put her to bed, I woke Mike and made him a small dinner. We went upstairs to watch some TV, and within 30 minutes, he was unconscious again, a god-awful roar emanating from his chest and agape mouth.

He normally doesn't snore. Surgery removed his tonsils and reduced his turbinates a few years ago (under duress of divorce) and since then our nights have been peaceful. But, Oh. My. Sweet. Jeebus. It was seriously like a buzzsaw was in my face. I've not heard snoring like that since the drug/alcohol-induced stupors of my college days. I'd keep lightly moving him, to stir and wake him, instructing him that the meds have made him really out of it and he needed to try and keep his snore-hole CLOSED. At 11:30, after plotting his death in a variety of ways as I tried in vain to sleep for the last 1.5 hours, I sat up and said "OKAY, THAT WILL BE ENOUGH OUT OF YOU MISTER!" and I walked him into the basement, made him a little bed on the long couch, set up all of his eye drops, drinks, and a phone right next to his head and told him to call me if he needed me. My thought was that if he was drugged enough to snore like a hog in heat, he could sleep anywhere. Normally, I would have been the one to go to the basement and sleep since he was the one that just had his eyes lasered and such, but I can hardly get comfortable in our four-thousand dollar Tempurpedic bed these days, with this GINORMOUS belly and all; sleeping on the couch would have been as futile as sleeping on a bed of nails in the middle of Times Square with squirrel monkeys plucking out my eyebrows one by one.

He was stiff and sore this morning, and in retrospect, I feel like a giant assmuffin for kicking my post-operative husband out of his bed, but what else was I to do? He can't take care of Charlotte very well today and one of us needed to sleep so we'd remember to ya know, feed her.

Note: Mike is not allowed Xanax, like ever again. Ever.

Update

So we're both home from our respective appointments. Mike's eye surgery went perfectly and now he's lying on the couch with icebags on his eyes. He can already see better but his eyes are dilated so things are still blurry. Some of you commented that PRK has a longer recovery than LASIK and this is true. Because they don't cut the cornea, they vaporize the epithelial (layer of cells that covers your eye) with what Mike describes as a "spinning buffer" like to wax a car. So his eyes have to heal and he will be uncomfortable for a few days. He's out of work until Tuesday and the doctor gave him a "no diaper changing" pass for the next few days. So THAT'S apparently what we need to do to get out of changing diapers - eye surgery!

My sister also had surgery yesterday. She had her deviated septum fixed, turbinates reduced, adenoids removed, and a whole slew of polyps and a cyst removed. Sounds fun, eh? She's home and recovering well. And hopefully, will have a new cute nose out of the deal. Oh yeah, and the ability to breathe would be a great outcome as well I suppose.

My OB appointment went well - nice and boring. Unfortunately, Mr. Fetus McLazypants still has not turned. He did another quick ultrasound to check and he's still breech with his head right under my sternum (which explains why I can't breathe in certain positions) and his butt pushing down on my pelvis. I still have high hopes that he'll turn in time, just like his sister did. My appointments have now moved to every two weeks and next week I have the prenatal joy known as the Glucose Tolerance Test. It probably wouldn't taste as bad if I could spike it with top-shelf vodka. But I hear people frown on that.

PRK

Mike is having PRK done this afternoon. It's kind of like LASIK but they don't actually cut your cornea.

We've both worn glasses since middle school and contact since high school. We are both coincidentally pretty much the same prescription (i.e., blind without glasses). However, he is going first for a few reasons. 1) It's expensive (around 5K) and we can afford for only one of us to go at a time. 2) He has issues with his contacts and I don't. None ever seem to work perfect with him. We've tried all kinds and his eyes always end up red and dry, looking like a stoner waiting for his next hit. 3) You are not supposed to get it done if you want to get pregnant, are pregnant, or a year after being pregnant. This is is apparently because women's vision can change slightly with the hormone changes, which would explain why I've been squinting lately when reading. (Or I could just be in denial that I am getting older and need - gasp - reading glasses).

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In other news, we have called the couch people every day for a week, and they keep telling us they'll have more info the next day and they never do. I spoke to a manager yesterday and she said that custom upholstery can take a long time, and there are many variables involved (to which I said, "are they making the fabric on a LOOM?") and it can take longer. I asked why they didn't tell us that at the beginning. She apologized and said someone would call us today. I am not holding my breath. I am ready to throw a Charlotte-level tantrum, complete with biting the nearest object and punching a wall. I WANT my couch. I deserve my couch. I'm getting increasingly more pregnant and it was the intention that I'd already have it to lounge my big ol' belly on. And now, Mike and I trade from the one comfortable chair we have and the futon, which was supposed to be a temporary arrangement. We have a couch and love seat in the finished basement, which is quite comfy, but we spend most of our time upstairs with Charlotte. Am I pathetic that I want to cry and scream over not having my couch?

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I have my 24 week appointment in a few minutes. I'm such a boring pregnant women, all my appointments go something like this, "How are you feeling?" "Great, thanks. Other than normal complaints, I feel good." And then he measures my belly, listens to the heartbeat, and I'm out of there in 10 minutes. He doesn't rush me; there's just nothing to discuss. I'm healthy and boring, which is great. I got on the scale this morning to see what I'd be in for at my appointment later, and I'm not quite sure where I'm putting all this weight. Sure, my face is a little chubbier, but that's to be expected. Maybe my arms and legs got bigger a tad. But, seriously, it says I am up almost 30 pounds. How is that possible? Do I look THAT big and I'm just delusional? I still have almost 3 1/2 more months left - how much more am I going to gain? I gained 80 with Charlotte and the thought of putting on another 50 pounds right now scares the bejeebus outta me.

Why yes, that IS a watermelon in my pants

(24 weeks)

Four things

Stole this from Cass because my brain is too fried to think of my own post.

A) Four places that I go to over and over: Home, Work, Stop N Shop, Dunkin Donuts

B) Four friends whose blogs I visit regularly: I can only pick four? Kellie, Cass, Holly, and Catwoman, though I have a ton more who I love just as much!

C) Four of my favorite places to eat: Bamboo Leaf (Thai), Sawa (Japanese), It's Greek to Me (Mediterranean), and Bistro Ole (Portuguese). Can you tell I like All Things Food?

D) Four places I would rather be right now: Waikaloa, at any of the above restaurants, anywhere tropical, Spain.

E) Four TV shows I watch over and over: Bones, Friends, Big Bang Theory, Scrubs (assuming you don't mean kids TV in which I change my answers to Dora, Sesame Street, Go Diego Go, and Jeopardy).

Here’s what you are supposed to do…post this on your blog…change the answers to your answers and then come back and comment here that you’ve done it so I can go check out your blog. Dooooeeeet, says me.

Up your nose with a rubber hose, Mr. Rain

Even though the skies opened up every few minutes to unleash their wrath, we went outside and played. (Okay, Mike played with her in the rain while I stood under the awning with my camera.)

Sharp Eyes

It sure didn't take much for you all to notice my beef with Eric Carle, did it?

Yes, parents (mothers OR fathers) do NOT babysit their own children. Mike is equally as offended when he hears a father say that. He is every much a parent as I am. Just because I gave birth to her doesn't make her any more mine, any less his.

Teenagers and college students babysit. Grandparents and relatives "watch the kids." Parents do nothing. If I am out and Mike is home with Charlotte or vice versa, it's called parenting, albeit with a man down.

In what world would a group of men be out with their friends when someone asks, "Where is the wife?" and someone else would reply "Oh, she's babysitting the kids." Not in this world.

I, for one, am disappointed in Mr. Carle and when I read that passage aloud to Charlotte I change "babysitting" to "taking care of", which seems less sexist to me.

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The daffodils are all up in my backyard and the thermometer is reading 62. I'd take you a picture so show all the pretty blooms, but I can because it's fricken RAINING. COME ON, for Pete's sake. When will we catch a break? Sunny and gorgeous? 30 degrees. Finally warm enough to be outside? Raining. Gah!

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Thanks for all your sympathy regarding my unwelcome friends who have come to visit this pregnancy. However, in spite of them, I am still feeling pretty damn good. Things could always be worse and every time I write a post complaining about normal pregnancy woes everyone deals with, I feel like a giant ungrateful sissy. When I hear stories of mothers being on bedrest, having terrible morning sickness, gestational diabetes, etc., it makes my little aches and pains all seem frivolous. Granted, they DO annoy me, but in the greater scheme of things, I am truly thankful I have such healthy and uneventful pregnancies.

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My Tassimo is not working. It is the end of the world. I have not had my morning coffee yet and my head is about to split in two if I don't get some caffeine in me soon. I suppose simply eating coffee grounds is not as brilliant idea as it seems in my head, eh? I mean, I could go under the cabinet, and get out the old coffee pot and actually brew a pot of coffee. But that seems like so much work when I usually pop a little packet in, hit a button, and voila! My latte is ready for my groggy whine-hole.

Other than my Tassimo, I realized there are a few things that I've come to rely on merely for their convenience sake. They are my luxuries, and though I spend my money on them, I work hard for that cash. I look at buying conveniences as buying time. We have a cleaning service that comes in every couple of weeks to do the big cleaning - the dusting, the scrubbing the tub, the lifting rugs and such. Stuff that despite having to clean every day regardless, gets pushed to the wayside. I also have my subscripton to booksfree.com, which lets me get my massive dosages of reading without having to cart my ass to the library and inevitably pay late fees. We use Netflix rather than going to Blockbuster for pretty much the same reason. I have a big honking expensive cell phone with email and GPS so I can't get lost. I have satellite radio in my car to keep me sane on my long-ass commute.

Could I live without all of these things? Yes, I'm fairly confident I could. But why would I want to if they make me happy? If they make my already hectic life easier?

Cass had asked her readers that in a post recently and all I could think of was my routine primping. I get my nails done, a pedicure, and waxed every three weeks. It makes me feel good about myself and it well worth the money to me. But, when I thought about it, I really have a bunch more.

What are your luxuries and conveniences that you indulge in? That the money spent on it is well worth the time and energy saved, or that makes you happy?