Gage loves to play games with my belly. He kisses it, rubs it, laughs at how his arms can't reach around it. He shines flashlights at it, then turns them off, then on. ("It's day! It's night! It's day!") Lila is interested, too, but not nearly so intensely. She kisses my belly and certainly uses it for a pillow (which is funny when she gets tired - her head kind of rolls around on it), she pats it and says "Baby Josie kickin'!" but she doesn't really try to interact with it the way Gage does.
One of Gage's favorite belly activities is to share his blankie with the baby. He has a special blue blankie that he's had since babyhood, and he never sleeps without it. Anytime he's in the mood for a snuggle...out comes blankie. Recently he's taken to spreading his blanket out on my belly, then siting next to me and holding a corner of it for himself. He says, "Does the baby like that?" Imagining the rush of love that spreads through me at these gestures, the endorphins and relaxation, I am sure that she does, and I say Yes.
Sometimes Gage wants me to speak on behalf of the baby. I squeak out baby sentences and he thinks it's the funniest thing. The other day he put not one, but two blankets on my belly and I said in the baby voice, "Ooh, it's warm in here! It feels like summer. But I thought I was supposed to be born in the fall! How can it be summer already and I wasn't born?" Gage finds this *hysterical* and now needs to repeat the whole scenario several times a day. "Mommy, do that thing where the baby thinks it's summer!"
He always finishes these games by giving me a good squeeze and saying: "What's the baby thinking now?"
"My big brother loves me. I'm so lucky."
We are all so lucky.
Monday, October 26, 2009
Friday, October 23, 2009
Darn Pictures!
Why do my landscape-shaped pictures always get cut off? What's the deal? Do I have to do something special to make them fit? I'm copying them from photobucket (which I'm angry at anyway for deleting my adorable baby bum pictures, saying that they 'violate' their 'terms' [sneer]).
Pumpkin Thief
I'm almost through my 36th week. I have only three weeks to go before my due date...and I'm really getting excited. For months it was all I could do to think "Get through the pregnancy. Get through the pregnancy." Because even a straightforward, relatively uncomplicated pregnancy isn't *easy*. But now the focus has so shifted to "You will have a baby soon. You will be holding your newborn child sooner than you can imagine." I'm getting over yet another nasty cold and, finally feeling better, am relaxing into a peaceful "almost there" plateau. At least...today. Who knows how I'll feel tomorrow!?
I had an OB appointment today - I have gained 24 pounds and am 1cm dilated. I know that the 1cm of dilation doesn't mean much - I could be 1 cm dilated for another three weeks, or I could go into labor tonight - but it still feels good to see some official progress. I have lots of contractions and the baby is head-down and low, so it's all coming together.
Gage and Lila are excited to meet the new baby. Gage and I have been talking about how he and Daddy and Lila will come visit me and the baby in the hospital and he's getting into that idea. His only memorable hospital experience was one evening in the ER when he somehow scratched the inside of his throat while eating a pear and there was more blood than we were comfortable with. He was three at the time, probably around three and a half, and on the way to the hospital he quietly asked me, "Can we not tell the doctor about my froap hurting?"
I've explained that the part of the hospital he'll visit this time is a friendly part - all Mamas and their babies, nobody sick or scared. He seems okay with that, and the fact that I will be away from the house for a couple of days and, when I come back, it will be with Josie.
Strangely, a lot of well-meaning strangers keep trying to engage him in baby conversation by saying: "Wow, you'll be a big brother soon!" Gage always looks a bit confused, and I'm not sure what to say to that either. I know they're just being friendly, but Lila's right there, standing next to him. He already *is* a big brother! I end up saying, "And Lila will be a big sister for the first time." Pregnancy brain addles not only the pregnant woman...people come out with the most random, and often far too personal comments. I get just as many "Oh, you're absolutely tiny!" comments as I do "Wow, you look like you were due last week!" As a rule, it's best to just say "You look great." Let's not talk too much about size, can we agree on that? Every pregnant woman gets a big belly, and every pregnant woman is very aware of it.
Besides the cold, and the many viruses I've been dealing with in general the past couple of months, the only problem I'm having right now is nighttime. In addition to mild insomnia (I am writing this at 1AM, after all) I just can't get comfortable. I almost dread getting to bed because I know that the next several hours will be a string of wakings, a repeat of me rolling laboriously from one side to the other, only to wake and reverse the motion fifteen minutes later. It's long nights lately...long nights of peeing and rolling.
But soon this will all be a distant, and probably somewhat fond, memory. Mike said something to me the other day that made me smile: "You're at the stage where other pregnant women are jealous of you." He's right. I'm in the homestretch. I'm just about at the finish line. And that only happens by putting in the time, which is now (just about) behind me. If I saw someone as pregnant as I am I would know, "She's there. She's going to have a wonderful surprise very, very soon." I like being in that place.
When I was pregnant with Lila I really pictured her, as a newborn, as the female version of Gage. I imagined that she would have dark, full hair and huge eyes, a wise little expression. She was nothing like that at all! In fact, she had barely any hair and it was light-colored, and she almost never opened her eyes until she was several days old. What a shock! I can make two kinds of babies! Now my question is: Will Josie look like mini-Gage or mini-Lila? I have learned nothing - there's no possibility of a third kind of baby...just as I once made only Gages I now make Gages and I also make Lilas. Which will Josie be?
Lila stuns me with her memory and recall lately. She can look at any picture...people that she's met once, people that have aged significantly since the picture was taken...and know whose picture it is. It's amazing. I have never been good at facial recognition...nor is Gage. Mike is, and Lila is. But to see this tiny two-year-old look at a baby picture of a now-four-year-old friend and rattle off his name is amazing to me.
A few days ago Lila was riding in the cart at Wegmans, looked at me sweetly, and said, "Mama, will you sing that song 'Daisy, Daisy, give me your answer, do? I'm half crazy, all for the love of you?'" Impressed, I told Mike. He laughed and said, "Sounds like she didn't really need you to sing it at all!"
Gage has used a couple of adult-like phrases lately that just tickle me. He recently began saying "To be exact" and...get this...in context. It cracks me up! The first time I heard it he said, "Mama? Do M&Ms and peanut butter go together? Smooth peanut butter, to be exact." This kid!
Today he was making a sandwich for me with plastic food - a waffle, a slice of tomato, a piece of lettuce (which he always calls 'salad'), etc. He was about to present it to me and pulled it back, quickly rearranging the tower. "This will make it more appetizing," he said.
We've managed to get out and do a couple of fun fall activities...of course, I have to grin and bear it as fellow hay riders watch me bouncing comically in a wagon, joking about "Way to induce labor!" or "Watch that lady! She's trying to steal a pumpkin!"
Ha.
Ha.
Next week will be full of Halloween fun - a parade and party at Preschool, Trick-or-Treating, and a party at Grandma's. I collected a few little things for the kids (bat-shaped lollies, pumpkin tattoos, tiny boxes of candy corn) and I decided to give them their treats today, so they wouldn't be lost in the overwhelming Halloweenness of next week. I told the kids before dinner that I had a surprise for them that I would give them before bed (I still needed to put the things together in their respective baskets). Gage went a little crazy, wanting to know NOW about the surprise - Where was it? What was it? Why was I holding out on them? Didn't he understand that he really wanted me to tell him NOW? He actually began to tear up and I had to say: "I'm a little sad I even told you about the surprise. It seems like you're not excited, you're upset. That's not what I expected." Poor guy. He pulled it together, though, and managed to wait patiently for the treats.
When he saw the his-n-hers baskets on the dining room table he ran over to one, his face bright with happiness, and said, "This is just what I thought! I thought about what the surprise would be and this is exactly it!" Then he and Lila gorged themselves on candy corn and apple cider, grinning drunkenly and begging for more tattoos on their skinny little arms.
I had an OB appointment today - I have gained 24 pounds and am 1cm dilated. I know that the 1cm of dilation doesn't mean much - I could be 1 cm dilated for another three weeks, or I could go into labor tonight - but it still feels good to see some official progress. I have lots of contractions and the baby is head-down and low, so it's all coming together.
Gage and Lila are excited to meet the new baby. Gage and I have been talking about how he and Daddy and Lila will come visit me and the baby in the hospital and he's getting into that idea. His only memorable hospital experience was one evening in the ER when he somehow scratched the inside of his throat while eating a pear and there was more blood than we were comfortable with. He was three at the time, probably around three and a half, and on the way to the hospital he quietly asked me, "Can we not tell the doctor about my froap hurting?"
I've explained that the part of the hospital he'll visit this time is a friendly part - all Mamas and their babies, nobody sick or scared. He seems okay with that, and the fact that I will be away from the house for a couple of days and, when I come back, it will be with Josie.
Strangely, a lot of well-meaning strangers keep trying to engage him in baby conversation by saying: "Wow, you'll be a big brother soon!" Gage always looks a bit confused, and I'm not sure what to say to that either. I know they're just being friendly, but Lila's right there, standing next to him. He already *is* a big brother! I end up saying, "And Lila will be a big sister for the first time." Pregnancy brain addles not only the pregnant woman...people come out with the most random, and often far too personal comments. I get just as many "Oh, you're absolutely tiny!" comments as I do "Wow, you look like you were due last week!" As a rule, it's best to just say "You look great." Let's not talk too much about size, can we agree on that? Every pregnant woman gets a big belly, and every pregnant woman is very aware of it.
Besides the cold, and the many viruses I've been dealing with in general the past couple of months, the only problem I'm having right now is nighttime. In addition to mild insomnia (I am writing this at 1AM, after all) I just can't get comfortable. I almost dread getting to bed because I know that the next several hours will be a string of wakings, a repeat of me rolling laboriously from one side to the other, only to wake and reverse the motion fifteen minutes later. It's long nights lately...long nights of peeing and rolling.
But soon this will all be a distant, and probably somewhat fond, memory. Mike said something to me the other day that made me smile: "You're at the stage where other pregnant women are jealous of you." He's right. I'm in the homestretch. I'm just about at the finish line. And that only happens by putting in the time, which is now (just about) behind me. If I saw someone as pregnant as I am I would know, "She's there. She's going to have a wonderful surprise very, very soon." I like being in that place.
When I was pregnant with Lila I really pictured her, as a newborn, as the female version of Gage. I imagined that she would have dark, full hair and huge eyes, a wise little expression. She was nothing like that at all! In fact, she had barely any hair and it was light-colored, and she almost never opened her eyes until she was several days old. What a shock! I can make two kinds of babies! Now my question is: Will Josie look like mini-Gage or mini-Lila? I have learned nothing - there's no possibility of a third kind of baby...just as I once made only Gages I now make Gages and I also make Lilas. Which will Josie be?
Lila stuns me with her memory and recall lately. She can look at any picture...people that she's met once, people that have aged significantly since the picture was taken...and know whose picture it is. It's amazing. I have never been good at facial recognition...nor is Gage. Mike is, and Lila is. But to see this tiny two-year-old look at a baby picture of a now-four-year-old friend and rattle off his name is amazing to me.
A few days ago Lila was riding in the cart at Wegmans, looked at me sweetly, and said, "Mama, will you sing that song 'Daisy, Daisy, give me your answer, do? I'm half crazy, all for the love of you?'" Impressed, I told Mike. He laughed and said, "Sounds like she didn't really need you to sing it at all!"
Gage has used a couple of adult-like phrases lately that just tickle me. He recently began saying "To be exact" and...get this...in context. It cracks me up! The first time I heard it he said, "Mama? Do M&Ms and peanut butter go together? Smooth peanut butter, to be exact." This kid!
Today he was making a sandwich for me with plastic food - a waffle, a slice of tomato, a piece of lettuce (which he always calls 'salad'), etc. He was about to present it to me and pulled it back, quickly rearranging the tower. "This will make it more appetizing," he said.
We've managed to get out and do a couple of fun fall activities...of course, I have to grin and bear it as fellow hay riders watch me bouncing comically in a wagon, joking about "Way to induce labor!" or "Watch that lady! She's trying to steal a pumpkin!"
Ha.
Ha.
Next week will be full of Halloween fun - a parade and party at Preschool, Trick-or-Treating, and a party at Grandma's. I collected a few little things for the kids (bat-shaped lollies, pumpkin tattoos, tiny boxes of candy corn) and I decided to give them their treats today, so they wouldn't be lost in the overwhelming Halloweenness of next week. I told the kids before dinner that I had a surprise for them that I would give them before bed (I still needed to put the things together in their respective baskets). Gage went a little crazy, wanting to know NOW about the surprise - Where was it? What was it? Why was I holding out on them? Didn't he understand that he really wanted me to tell him NOW? He actually began to tear up and I had to say: "I'm a little sad I even told you about the surprise. It seems like you're not excited, you're upset. That's not what I expected." Poor guy. He pulled it together, though, and managed to wait patiently for the treats.
When he saw the his-n-hers baskets on the dining room table he ran over to one, his face bright with happiness, and said, "This is just what I thought! I thought about what the surprise would be and this is exactly it!" Then he and Lila gorged themselves on candy corn and apple cider, grinning drunkenly and begging for more tattoos on their skinny little arms.
Tuesday, October 6, 2009
Pwivacy
Things have been so much better since the weekend.
I finally feel like my (pregnant) self again. I mean, I won't feel like myself myself until after I have the baby, but I feel so much better.
Our terrible day last week was Wednesday. On Thursday he developed a fever and a cough, which continued through Friday. My eye began to heal on Saturday (YAY!) and we were all on the road to recovery.
Mike and I saw David Sedaris speak and read Saturday night, while friends kept the kids. Overnight. Mike and I slept until noon on Sunday. I'm grinning as I write this. Sleeping until noon - it's the rarest treat these days, and just the thing I needed. I was able to put in my contacts again (YAY!) and things are just. So. Much. Better.
One thing that I learned...I need to be more proactive about having a distraction at the ready. Since the Very Bad Day I have spent some time each evening preparing a small craft for the next day, to be used when the kids need a positive diversion. Something to be doled out when they're at the brink of misbehavior...something to head them off at the pass. I've been drawing simple worksheets, mazes, coloring sheets. On Sunday while Lila was napping Gage painted and strung a pasta necklace (although he paused in his work at one point to say: "Mama? Painting noodles is not really my idea of fun"). Not really my idea of fun!? Where does he get this stuff!?
Another day I cut out black shapes - triangles, circles, big goofy grins - and outlined a pumpkin on another sheet of paper. The kids had a blast coloring their pumpkins and then gluing the shapes into faces. Five minutes of prep the night before = a peaceful fifteen-minute project the next day. I'll take it.
I know it won't avoid all problems, but it feels good to have a project at the ready...an ace up my sleeve.
In case you're curious, as of last night Gage got all of his toys back.
Lila has been using the potty almost flawlessly for several months now...we'll have a couple of weeks where she has not a single accident but then one day she'll suddenly have, like, three accidents in one day. After a good run I think, "Is this it? Is she really trained?" and then No, No she's not. But overall she's doing great.
Recently she's taken to announcing: "I need to go potty! I want to use the *big* potty, in the baffwoom." She starts to head upstairs, turns to look at me and says primly, "I need pwivacy." She disappears up the stairs and I hear the door close firmly.
Of course I have to invade her privacy moments later when I hear the toilet flush, because while she can get her pants down, pee, and flush she cannot pull her pants up, wipe, or stop flushing.
She'd stand there flushing the toilet all night if you'd let her.
I finally feel like my (pregnant) self again. I mean, I won't feel like myself myself until after I have the baby, but I feel so much better.
Our terrible day last week was Wednesday. On Thursday he developed a fever and a cough, which continued through Friday. My eye began to heal on Saturday (YAY!) and we were all on the road to recovery.
Mike and I saw David Sedaris speak and read Saturday night, while friends kept the kids. Overnight. Mike and I slept until noon on Sunday. I'm grinning as I write this. Sleeping until noon - it's the rarest treat these days, and just the thing I needed. I was able to put in my contacts again (YAY!) and things are just. So. Much. Better.
One thing that I learned...I need to be more proactive about having a distraction at the ready. Since the Very Bad Day I have spent some time each evening preparing a small craft for the next day, to be used when the kids need a positive diversion. Something to be doled out when they're at the brink of misbehavior...something to head them off at the pass. I've been drawing simple worksheets, mazes, coloring sheets. On Sunday while Lila was napping Gage painted and strung a pasta necklace (although he paused in his work at one point to say: "Mama? Painting noodles is not really my idea of fun"). Not really my idea of fun!? Where does he get this stuff!?
Another day I cut out black shapes - triangles, circles, big goofy grins - and outlined a pumpkin on another sheet of paper. The kids had a blast coloring their pumpkins and then gluing the shapes into faces. Five minutes of prep the night before = a peaceful fifteen-minute project the next day. I'll take it.
I know it won't avoid all problems, but it feels good to have a project at the ready...an ace up my sleeve.
In case you're curious, as of last night Gage got all of his toys back.
Lila has been using the potty almost flawlessly for several months now...we'll have a couple of weeks where she has not a single accident but then one day she'll suddenly have, like, three accidents in one day. After a good run I think, "Is this it? Is she really trained?" and then No, No she's not. But overall she's doing great.
Recently she's taken to announcing: "I need to go potty! I want to use the *big* potty, in the baffwoom." She starts to head upstairs, turns to look at me and says primly, "I need pwivacy." She disappears up the stairs and I hear the door close firmly.
Of course I have to invade her privacy moments later when I hear the toilet flush, because while she can get her pants down, pee, and flush she cannot pull her pants up, wipe, or stop flushing.
She'd stand there flushing the toilet all night if you'd let her.
Thursday, October 1, 2009
The Bad
Now that it's dark, and quiet, and everyone else is sleeping I can finally reflect on the day with less anxiety. And what a day it's been. Two days, actually. All yesterday and all today I've had a raging eye infection, which is bad enough on its own but worse because I'm not used to wearing my glasses. Of course I can't wear my contacts with a swollen and red eye, so I have to rely on my glasses, which affect me physically (dizzy, headache, nausea) as well as psychologically (vulnerable, volatile, crabby).
I have not been my best self the past two days. The eye, the big, awkward belly, the constant heartburn. It's just not a good combination. I know that my bad mood has significantly contributed to Gage's misbehavior these past two days but I'm still shocked and embarrassed by how he's been acting.
Gage bit Lila yesterday. And Gage bit Lila today.
Gage is not a biter. He's just over four years old and we've never had a problem with aggression of this sort.
But the more I think about my own actions the past two days the more I feel responsible for his.
Today in the car. Late, on the way to the doctor for my eye. Couldn't find my health card, hence the delay. My fault. Rushing Gage, sternly chiding him in the car, "Buckle yourself! Hurry up!" This is a new challenge for him, and it's not easy. He has little hands, and the buckle is stiff and non-compliant. He strains to click the buckle into place and misses. "Hurry!" I nearly shout.
Who is this talking?
Promising donuts for a successful trip to the doctor. The kids are golden. They sit patiently and quietly. We run out of time and have to go straight to Gage's preschool. No donuts. I'm never unreliable, except today I am. They notice.
But he bit her, and that's a problem. Yesterday he got scolded, and got a time-out in his room. He seemed honestly sorry...he did his time, he apologized sincerely. And then...today. The same thing. Lesson? Not learned.
I lost it. And he lost it. And Lila lost it. I sent Gage to his room, seriously enraged. I held and soothed Lila, and when she was calm I went to Gage's room with a big box and started packing up his toys. He was freaking out, but I kept on...packing up his toy kitchen, his train set, his cars. I told him he could have them back in a week if he showed me that he could control his temper.
I went back downstairs to Lila and cried. And cried.
Gage, when released from time-out, shakily told me that it was hard for him to control his temper. I nodded my head and said "I know. It's hard for Mommies and Daddies, too." Obviously. But biting? It's not okay.
And now, six hours later, snippets of the evening are running through my mind, making me tear up all over again.
Lila, patting my cheek with the whole of her hand, saying "Mama, you feel better? No more tears? You not feelin' angry anymore?"
Gage, face damp, asking, "Please don't talk about my toys. I'm just going to keep crying."
Mike, looking at me with patient sympathy. Knowing I'm not me.
And all the while I literally can't see straight. My world is rounded and slanted and jerky...my vision is like a bad movie filmed with a hand-held camera. Everything is wrong. Everything is just a little bit off. And it's been two full days.
"I have nothing left to give," I whispered to Mike at one point tonight, when Gage and I had finally stopped crying.
This is not me. I don't like this at all.
After bedtime I went to Lila's room, pulled her blanket up around her shoulders, watched the regular rise and fall of her chest, listened to the little sighing sounds she makes in her sleep.
I went to Gage's room, and climbed into bed with him. He didn't wake, but snuggled against me. He spooned his back into me, and then shifted so his furry head was pressing against my belly. Josie responded by swiping at the round top of his head with a hand or a foot, pressing her body against his, with me in between. When you're pregnant you're never alone.
As I nestled in Gage's bed with him the tears started up again.
He's getting to be so big now. He's my tiny little baby.
I want him to do the right thing. You expect too much.
His mistakes are my mistakes.
He needs to make mistakes.
I kiss his forehead and whisper "I love you. I love you so much."
He sighs in his sleep and murmurs back, "I love you too."
We all make mistakes.
We're none of us perfect.
But I know now. We're all going to be okay.
I have not been my best self the past two days. The eye, the big, awkward belly, the constant heartburn. It's just not a good combination. I know that my bad mood has significantly contributed to Gage's misbehavior these past two days but I'm still shocked and embarrassed by how he's been acting.
Gage bit Lila yesterday. And Gage bit Lila today.
Gage is not a biter. He's just over four years old and we've never had a problem with aggression of this sort.
But the more I think about my own actions the past two days the more I feel responsible for his.
Today in the car. Late, on the way to the doctor for my eye. Couldn't find my health card, hence the delay. My fault. Rushing Gage, sternly chiding him in the car, "Buckle yourself! Hurry up!" This is a new challenge for him, and it's not easy. He has little hands, and the buckle is stiff and non-compliant. He strains to click the buckle into place and misses. "Hurry!" I nearly shout.
Who is this talking?
Promising donuts for a successful trip to the doctor. The kids are golden. They sit patiently and quietly. We run out of time and have to go straight to Gage's preschool. No donuts. I'm never unreliable, except today I am. They notice.
But he bit her, and that's a problem. Yesterday he got scolded, and got a time-out in his room. He seemed honestly sorry...he did his time, he apologized sincerely. And then...today. The same thing. Lesson? Not learned.
I lost it. And he lost it. And Lila lost it. I sent Gage to his room, seriously enraged. I held and soothed Lila, and when she was calm I went to Gage's room with a big box and started packing up his toys. He was freaking out, but I kept on...packing up his toy kitchen, his train set, his cars. I told him he could have them back in a week if he showed me that he could control his temper.
I went back downstairs to Lila and cried. And cried.
Gage, when released from time-out, shakily told me that it was hard for him to control his temper. I nodded my head and said "I know. It's hard for Mommies and Daddies, too." Obviously. But biting? It's not okay.
And now, six hours later, snippets of the evening are running through my mind, making me tear up all over again.
Lila, patting my cheek with the whole of her hand, saying "Mama, you feel better? No more tears? You not feelin' angry anymore?"
Gage, face damp, asking, "Please don't talk about my toys. I'm just going to keep crying."
Mike, looking at me with patient sympathy. Knowing I'm not me.
And all the while I literally can't see straight. My world is rounded and slanted and jerky...my vision is like a bad movie filmed with a hand-held camera. Everything is wrong. Everything is just a little bit off. And it's been two full days.
"I have nothing left to give," I whispered to Mike at one point tonight, when Gage and I had finally stopped crying.
This is not me. I don't like this at all.
After bedtime I went to Lila's room, pulled her blanket up around her shoulders, watched the regular rise and fall of her chest, listened to the little sighing sounds she makes in her sleep.
I went to Gage's room, and climbed into bed with him. He didn't wake, but snuggled against me. He spooned his back into me, and then shifted so his furry head was pressing against my belly. Josie responded by swiping at the round top of his head with a hand or a foot, pressing her body against his, with me in between. When you're pregnant you're never alone.
As I nestled in Gage's bed with him the tears started up again.
He's getting to be so big now. He's my tiny little baby.
I want him to do the right thing. You expect too much.
His mistakes are my mistakes.
He needs to make mistakes.
I kiss his forehead and whisper "I love you. I love you so much."
He sighs in his sleep and murmurs back, "I love you too."
We all make mistakes.
We're none of us perfect.
But I know now. We're all going to be okay.
Friday, September 25, 2009
Preschool
I'm 32 weeks & 5 days along now, only 7 weeks to go. :) I will have OB appointments every two weeks now, and after two of those I will go once a week. I've gained 15 pounds and overall I'm feeling well.
One of the strangest things about pregnancy is how different you can feel from day to day. And when you have a bad day (exhausted, huge, sore, cranky) you feel like that's how it's going to be from here on out, until the baby's born, and how on earth are you going to survive another two months of this!? But then the next day you'll feel great - lots of energy, and a look in the mirror will tell you the opposite of what you thought yesterday...why, your belly is positively petite! It's so weird...but you totally go back and forth, more toward the end of pregnancy, with the good days and bad days. And I know, the pictures appear to show a big, round belly, but I swear sometimes I gaze lovingly at my midsection and can't get over how compact it is. So what if my mind is playing tricks on me? It feels good.
I feel the baby moving all the time now. She is very active, as were Gage and Lila. I love to sit back on the couch in the late evenings and watch my belly undulate, watch lumps rise and fall, slide. It's amazing. Once in a while she moves so forcefully that I feel as though I'm thrown off-balance. Not that my balance is all that great to begin with these days....
Gage began preschool a week and a half ago. I was dreading the start...I really was. I was anxious and sad that my baby was going to be away from me, was going to be in a classroom where I could not watch over him, could not make sure that he's treated the way I need him to be treated. Luckily the transition has been much easier than I feared. He's enjoying preschool and we have no problems during drop-off. He marches right into his little classroom and the first thing he does, every day, is go to the "Helping Hands" wall to see what his job will be for the afternoon. His favorite so far: Bell Ringer. I understand. Who doesn't love to ring a bell?
Lila has been the surprise problem with drop-off. I had no idea that she would be as affected as she is, but every day she cries after we leave Gage's school. Every day she wails on the drive home, "I miss my Gagey! I miss my big brudder!" Earlier this week she told me that if she says "...I miss my Gager, I need my Gager he will come home to me." Poor little one.
Another preschool surprise is that I am enjoying the free time it provides to me. I was so nervous about the thought of Gage being gone that I really didn't stop to think about what my afternoons (Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday from 12:30 until 3:00) would be like. I guess I imagined myself biting my nails while watching the clock. This is what's it's been like: We get home, I tuck Lila in for a nap. Two hours of silence (although I do watch the clock more than strictly necessary). I wake Lila up and we go to pick up Gage. It's crazy what those two hours of solitude have done for my well-being. It's been pleasant to have that time to myself...although short-lived, since Josie will be here before we know it.
Gage is already showing off his new knowledge...he reminds Mike to "Turn off the lights when you leave a room. It's good for the enbironment." And yesterday he rattled off the days of the week to me with no hesitation. He's picked up some of the Pledge of Allegiance and two nursery rhymes: Twinkle, Twinkle and Hey Diddle, Diddle.
I have to laugh when he recites Hey Diddle, Diddle because (despite the many times I attempted to correct him) he always says:
Hey Diddle, Diddle
The cat and the fiddle
The cow jumped over the moon
The little dog laughed with excitement
And the dish ran away with the spoon.
I love that - laughed with excitement. And then he chuckles in a grown-up way and explains: "It's funny 'cause dishes can't run."
Whereas cows can *totally* jump over the moon.
I recently picked up a crafty toy for the kids, called "Bendaroos." It's a collection of colored sticks...like stiff string coated in wax...that the kids can make into jewelry or shapes or whatever. They spotted the Bendaroos in a store the other day and Gage recognized them from a commercial. He asked if we could buy it and I said No, but a salesman heard me and said "We have some of those in clearance - the boxes were crushed a little, but the toys are all there." Crushed boxes? I'm there! So we bought them after all, and the kids are having a blast using them. What's funny is that Gage calls them "Fingaroos" and Lila calls them "Kangaroos" and I stubbornly refer to them by their given name. It's like "Who's on First" when they want to get out the Bendaroos.
Gage has entered a new stage of reliability recently...it's mature and disarming. For his whole life thus far when he's insisted on something that doesn't sound right I can correct him, with almost 100% accuracy. Lately he's been saying things that don't sound right and when I go to correct him he quietly and politely insists that he's right. And then he is right.
Case in point: yesterday afternoon Lila wanted to watch "Charlie and Lola" (a Disney cartoon, a favorite in our house). She pushed Play on the DVD player (who knew she could do *that*?) and the theme music began to play.
Gage: "It's not on. Lila wants to watch Charlie and Lola and it's not on."
Me (in the dining room, where I can hear the TV but not see it): "It's on. I can hear it."
Gage (not paying any attention to the TV): "No, it's not on."
Me: "Gage, I can hear it."
Gage: "But it's not on."
Me: "I want you to come look at the TV so that you can see it's on."
Gage: "All right, but I want you to come too, so you can see that it's not."
Me (slightly put out by this, and irritated at having to stand up for nothing [yesterday was a Bad Day and I felt awful]): "Fine."
We meet in front of the TV. There's a moment of silence.
Me: "Oh. It's not on."
The DVD player was on, the speakers were on. The TV...was not.
Me: "You were right."
Gage: Does not feel the need to rub it in - does not even say 'I told you so.' Gage is a good kid. And maybe I ought to give him the benefit of the doubt once in a while.
He's been right an awful lot lately. And patient...and kind.
There's got to be a lesson in there somewhere.
One of the strangest things about pregnancy is how different you can feel from day to day. And when you have a bad day (exhausted, huge, sore, cranky) you feel like that's how it's going to be from here on out, until the baby's born, and how on earth are you going to survive another two months of this!? But then the next day you'll feel great - lots of energy, and a look in the mirror will tell you the opposite of what you thought yesterday...why, your belly is positively petite! It's so weird...but you totally go back and forth, more toward the end of pregnancy, with the good days and bad days. And I know, the pictures appear to show a big, round belly, but I swear sometimes I gaze lovingly at my midsection and can't get over how compact it is. So what if my mind is playing tricks on me? It feels good.
I feel the baby moving all the time now. She is very active, as were Gage and Lila. I love to sit back on the couch in the late evenings and watch my belly undulate, watch lumps rise and fall, slide. It's amazing. Once in a while she moves so forcefully that I feel as though I'm thrown off-balance. Not that my balance is all that great to begin with these days....
Gage began preschool a week and a half ago. I was dreading the start...I really was. I was anxious and sad that my baby was going to be away from me, was going to be in a classroom where I could not watch over him, could not make sure that he's treated the way I need him to be treated. Luckily the transition has been much easier than I feared. He's enjoying preschool and we have no problems during drop-off. He marches right into his little classroom and the first thing he does, every day, is go to the "Helping Hands" wall to see what his job will be for the afternoon. His favorite so far: Bell Ringer. I understand. Who doesn't love to ring a bell?
Lila has been the surprise problem with drop-off. I had no idea that she would be as affected as she is, but every day she cries after we leave Gage's school. Every day she wails on the drive home, "I miss my Gagey! I miss my big brudder!" Earlier this week she told me that if she says "...I miss my Gager, I need my Gager he will come home to me." Poor little one.
Another preschool surprise is that I am enjoying the free time it provides to me. I was so nervous about the thought of Gage being gone that I really didn't stop to think about what my afternoons (Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday from 12:30 until 3:00) would be like. I guess I imagined myself biting my nails while watching the clock. This is what's it's been like: We get home, I tuck Lila in for a nap. Two hours of silence (although I do watch the clock more than strictly necessary). I wake Lila up and we go to pick up Gage. It's crazy what those two hours of solitude have done for my well-being. It's been pleasant to have that time to myself...although short-lived, since Josie will be here before we know it.
Gage is already showing off his new knowledge...he reminds Mike to "Turn off the lights when you leave a room. It's good for the enbironment." And yesterday he rattled off the days of the week to me with no hesitation. He's picked up some of the Pledge of Allegiance and two nursery rhymes: Twinkle, Twinkle and Hey Diddle, Diddle.
I have to laugh when he recites Hey Diddle, Diddle because (despite the many times I attempted to correct him) he always says:
Hey Diddle, Diddle
The cat and the fiddle
The cow jumped over the moon
The little dog laughed with excitement
And the dish ran away with the spoon.
I love that - laughed with excitement. And then he chuckles in a grown-up way and explains: "It's funny 'cause dishes can't run."
Whereas cows can *totally* jump over the moon.
I recently picked up a crafty toy for the kids, called "Bendaroos." It's a collection of colored sticks...like stiff string coated in wax...that the kids can make into jewelry or shapes or whatever. They spotted the Bendaroos in a store the other day and Gage recognized them from a commercial. He asked if we could buy it and I said No, but a salesman heard me and said "We have some of those in clearance - the boxes were crushed a little, but the toys are all there." Crushed boxes? I'm there! So we bought them after all, and the kids are having a blast using them. What's funny is that Gage calls them "Fingaroos" and Lila calls them "Kangaroos" and I stubbornly refer to them by their given name. It's like "Who's on First" when they want to get out the Bendaroos.
Gage has entered a new stage of reliability recently...it's mature and disarming. For his whole life thus far when he's insisted on something that doesn't sound right I can correct him, with almost 100% accuracy. Lately he's been saying things that don't sound right and when I go to correct him he quietly and politely insists that he's right. And then he is right.
Case in point: yesterday afternoon Lila wanted to watch "Charlie and Lola" (a Disney cartoon, a favorite in our house). She pushed Play on the DVD player (who knew she could do *that*?) and the theme music began to play.
Gage: "It's not on. Lila wants to watch Charlie and Lola and it's not on."
Me (in the dining room, where I can hear the TV but not see it): "It's on. I can hear it."
Gage (not paying any attention to the TV): "No, it's not on."
Me: "Gage, I can hear it."
Gage: "But it's not on."
Me: "I want you to come look at the TV so that you can see it's on."
Gage: "All right, but I want you to come too, so you can see that it's not."
Me (slightly put out by this, and irritated at having to stand up for nothing [yesterday was a Bad Day and I felt awful]): "Fine."
We meet in front of the TV. There's a moment of silence.
Me: "Oh. It's not on."
The DVD player was on, the speakers were on. The TV...was not.
Me: "You were right."
Gage: Does not feel the need to rub it in - does not even say 'I told you so.' Gage is a good kid. And maybe I ought to give him the benefit of the doubt once in a while.
He's been right an awful lot lately. And patient...and kind.
There's got to be a lesson in there somewhere.
Monday, August 24, 2009
Next Time I Won't Sing With You
I had another OB appointment last week, as well as the Glucose test, which is done between 26 & 28 weeks. The Glucose test involves drinking a very sugary orange-flavored liquid and waiting around for an hour, after which there is a bloodtest. The test measures how you metabolize the sugar, to check whether you're in danger of gestational diabetes. I passed the test with flying colors. Good news for this candy-loving mama. (I actually talked Mike into buying for me a case of candy cigarettes two weeks ago. That's 24 packs. They're delicious.)
I am now 28 weeks along, and have gained another 4 pounds, bringing my total weight gain up to 10 pounds so far. With all three pregnancies I didn't gain at all until after 20 weeks, and then I gained a normal amount (about 35 pounds) in the last half of the pregnancy. Looks like this time will be the same way. It's just weird to look at my big, big belly and think I've only gained 10 pounds. (...and to think that there's more to come.)
My weekly dinner of homemade buffalo chicken wings (fried, of course) will surely help the weight pack on. It's for you, baby. For you.
Oh, and the lemon angelfood cake with lemon glaze, pictured here atop my belly shelf, which Mike never ceases to find amusing:
The kids are well. Lila has been making us all laugh with her own version of the ABC song. She does the ABCs themselves pretty well, only missing a couple of letters here and there. At the end she sings:
Now I know my ABCs.
Next time I won't sing with you.
Cracks us up every time.
Gage is getting ready to start preschool in three weeks. (Mama is certainly NOT ready to have her little boy start preschool in three weeks.) He's excited about it, about carrying a bookbag and writing his name and snacktime. I know it's a good school and an essential part of growing up, but I want to keep my little boy home with me for longer.
Just...longer.
Our garden is giving us lots of deeply red tomatoes, lots of leafy, aromatic basil. We've been eating some combination of the two mostly every day - this is the best part about August, I think. Last week I made a tomato-basil side with garlic and black pepper, all layered over fresh mozzarella with a crumbly butter-rich tart base. It was fantastic, a sure repeat dish.
And, because I'm a dork, I took a picture of it. I often take pictures of food. I like to capture my creations on film, which is why my computer is loaded with pictures of my kids and pictures of dinner.
I'll upload that one this evening so you can see it, too.
In the meantime, here are the kids during our recent week-long beach vacation. I have since cut Gage's hair a bit, sigh.
I am now 28 weeks along, and have gained another 4 pounds, bringing my total weight gain up to 10 pounds so far. With all three pregnancies I didn't gain at all until after 20 weeks, and then I gained a normal amount (about 35 pounds) in the last half of the pregnancy. Looks like this time will be the same way. It's just weird to look at my big, big belly and think I've only gained 10 pounds. (...and to think that there's more to come.)
My weekly dinner of homemade buffalo chicken wings (fried, of course) will surely help the weight pack on. It's for you, baby. For you.
Oh, and the lemon angelfood cake with lemon glaze, pictured here atop my belly shelf, which Mike never ceases to find amusing:
The kids are well. Lila has been making us all laugh with her own version of the ABC song. She does the ABCs themselves pretty well, only missing a couple of letters here and there. At the end she sings:
Now I know my ABCs.
Next time I won't sing with you.
Cracks us up every time.
Gage is getting ready to start preschool in three weeks. (Mama is certainly NOT ready to have her little boy start preschool in three weeks.) He's excited about it, about carrying a bookbag and writing his name and snacktime. I know it's a good school and an essential part of growing up, but I want to keep my little boy home with me for longer.
Just...longer.
Our garden is giving us lots of deeply red tomatoes, lots of leafy, aromatic basil. We've been eating some combination of the two mostly every day - this is the best part about August, I think. Last week I made a tomato-basil side with garlic and black pepper, all layered over fresh mozzarella with a crumbly butter-rich tart base. It was fantastic, a sure repeat dish.
And, because I'm a dork, I took a picture of it. I often take pictures of food. I like to capture my creations on film, which is why my computer is loaded with pictures of my kids and pictures of dinner.
I'll upload that one this evening so you can see it, too.
In the meantime, here are the kids during our recent week-long beach vacation. I have since cut Gage's hair a bit, sigh.
Thursday, July 23, 2009
Some Random
- I went to the OB today and I finally gained some weight! Six pounds in the last month...bringing my total weight gain so far to six pounds. I'm almost 24 weeks along now, so I'm happy to be gaining. I was getting sick every day during months three and four, and only in the last three weeks or so has that stopped. I feel stronger and more energetic lately, too.
- We are fairly certain that we will name the baby Josephine. When I told the kids this I said "I think that I'll call her Josie. What about you?" Gage piped up immediately: "Josephine Jellybean!" So she already has a couple of nicknames, all darling. She is measuring right on, as is my belly.
- Last night Mike took the kids to Wawa after Parkettes, as he often does. Gage picked out a treat for me, a package of Twinkies. I was surprised that Mike didn't steer him toward something else, because Twinkies? Not really my kind of snack. So suffice it to say they were still in their package today. Gage asked me why I didn't eat them and I said, "Oh, I'm not hungry. How about you and Lila each eat one?" He agreed, and I handed them out. (This marks their first packaged cake experience.)
They each took one bite and put their Twinkies down. Lila swallowed her bite and went about her business, leaving her Twinkie on the table. Gage chewed his bite, made a horrible face, and ran to the trash to spit it out. I heard him call from the kitchen: "I found that cake to be much too sweet!" I laughed and happily threw away the Twinkies. They tried them - it's more than fine with me if they don't like them.
- Gage turns four tomorrow. Four! He is excited for his birthday, but in his ever-empathetic way he made a card and wrapped a present for me so that I would not be left out of the festivities. He is storing both card and gift safely in his desk until his big day.
Here he is posing with his pizza, one that he made entirely with his own hands - from patting the dough into a big round to putting on the sauce and toppings. He and Lila love to help in the kitchen and they love to eat what they create. Gage was very proud of himself for this pizza, as was I.
- Lila is still convinced that she has a baby in her belly, and she has named it Judith. (Judith is Lila's new cousin's name - my oldest sister Sarah gave birth to her third child just over a month ago.) When you ask Lila about her baby she points very specifically to her bellybutton and says "See?"
Lately 'Baby Judith' has been apparently active...Lila will put her hand on her belly and say "Baby Judif kickin'!" It's too funny - a perfect imitation of her mommy.
- We are fairly certain that we will name the baby Josephine. When I told the kids this I said "I think that I'll call her Josie. What about you?" Gage piped up immediately: "Josephine Jellybean!" So she already has a couple of nicknames, all darling. She is measuring right on, as is my belly.
- Last night Mike took the kids to Wawa after Parkettes, as he often does. Gage picked out a treat for me, a package of Twinkies. I was surprised that Mike didn't steer him toward something else, because Twinkies? Not really my kind of snack. So suffice it to say they were still in their package today. Gage asked me why I didn't eat them and I said, "Oh, I'm not hungry. How about you and Lila each eat one?" He agreed, and I handed them out. (This marks their first packaged cake experience.)
They each took one bite and put their Twinkies down. Lila swallowed her bite and went about her business, leaving her Twinkie on the table. Gage chewed his bite, made a horrible face, and ran to the trash to spit it out. I heard him call from the kitchen: "I found that cake to be much too sweet!" I laughed and happily threw away the Twinkies. They tried them - it's more than fine with me if they don't like them.
- Gage turns four tomorrow. Four! He is excited for his birthday, but in his ever-empathetic way he made a card and wrapped a present for me so that I would not be left out of the festivities. He is storing both card and gift safely in his desk until his big day.
Here he is posing with his pizza, one that he made entirely with his own hands - from patting the dough into a big round to putting on the sauce and toppings. He and Lila love to help in the kitchen and they love to eat what they create. Gage was very proud of himself for this pizza, as was I.
- Lila is still convinced that she has a baby in her belly, and she has named it Judith. (Judith is Lila's new cousin's name - my oldest sister Sarah gave birth to her third child just over a month ago.) When you ask Lila about her baby she points very specifically to her bellybutton and says "See?"
Lately 'Baby Judith' has been apparently active...Lila will put her hand on her belly and say "Baby Judif kickin'!" It's too funny - a perfect imitation of her mommy.
Wednesday, July 15, 2009
Two Quick Laughs
Since Gage was a baby we've played the wildly popular 'Stinky Feet Game.' What's involved: Sniffing one of the kids' feet, making a face and saying, "Ooh, those are some stinky feet. What were you walking in?" The kids love it - they offer up the other foot and enthusiastically say "This one's even stinkier!"
Lila was flailing on the couch the other day - I was sitting, she was tumbling over me - and I caught one of her feet in my hand. I sniffed it, gave the obligatory snort of disgust and said "Ooh, those are some stinky feet!" Lila pulled away, glared at me and said with careful enunciation:
"My feet are clean and soft. Actually, they're fine."
She turned away with an indignant huff.
Well!
I guess she told me!
Yesterday I was pushing Gage on the swingset; on the one meant for two kids...the swing that has handles and a place to put his feet, and the kids sit back-to-back. I was pushing him pretty high and he slipped his feet off the bar. I stopped the swing quickly and asked if he was all right.
Gage: "Yeah. Can you push me again?"
Me: "I thought you were going to fall."
Gage: "Nope. I like to do that."
So I push him again and again he slips his feet off the bar. After the third time I said, "That makes me so nervous. Why are you doing that?"
And I swear this is exactly how he responded.
He looked at me slyly and grinned. "I like to live on the edge."
Lila was flailing on the couch the other day - I was sitting, she was tumbling over me - and I caught one of her feet in my hand. I sniffed it, gave the obligatory snort of disgust and said "Ooh, those are some stinky feet!" Lila pulled away, glared at me and said with careful enunciation:
"My feet are clean and soft. Actually, they're fine."
She turned away with an indignant huff.
Well!
I guess she told me!
Yesterday I was pushing Gage on the swingset; on the one meant for two kids...the swing that has handles and a place to put his feet, and the kids sit back-to-back. I was pushing him pretty high and he slipped his feet off the bar. I stopped the swing quickly and asked if he was all right.
Gage: "Yeah. Can you push me again?"
Me: "I thought you were going to fall."
Gage: "Nope. I like to do that."
So I push him again and again he slips his feet off the bar. After the third time I said, "That makes me so nervous. Why are you doing that?"
And I swear this is exactly how he responded.
He looked at me slyly and grinned. "I like to live on the edge."
Tuesday, July 14, 2009
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