Happy Berfday to Me!

Thank God for Facebook because I pretty much entirely forgot today is my birthday.

I've been a wee bit busy.

But I logged on this morning and was floored by all the birthday wishes. Lots and lots of love. And yes, I cried a little. Are you surprised, really? I figure I can't listen to the radio, watch sappy commercials or any episodes of Glee or Extreme Home Makeover until my hormones stabilize.

What am I NOT teary over? Getting older. Today I'm 33. I don't want to be perpetually 29. And my early 20's? Fugeddaboutit. You couldn't pay me to do that again. Except for the sleeping in part. Yeah, that would be okay.

Right now is good. It's where I'm supposed to be, I can't imagine things differently. I don't lead a glamourous life. Things are most definitely not perfect. But I'm content. Content, for me, is way better than over the moon happy. Super happy makes me nervous. I walk around waiting for the other shoe to drop. Am I a pessimist? My preferred term is REALIST.

Today has been nice and mellow. It's sunny and beautiful outside. My husband is home and planting my vegetable garden (awesome gift, no?). Baby C had a newborn photo shoot this morning. G has been helping Daddy outside and is covered head to toe in dirt. I'm thinking we'll barbecue tonight.

To some, this may sound boring. But I think it sounds perfect.

Happy birthday to me, indeed.

blink

Today I woke up and realized that my little girl has been here one week already.

And cue the postpartum tears...

I'm thrilled to report that thus far, many of my fears about going from one to two kids have been unfounded.

Knock wood.

Honestly, the transition has been fairly simple. G has embraced his baby sister and has been so loving and protective. He has his acting out moments...but don't all three year olds?

Baby C has been, in my opinion, and from past experience...ahem...dare I say it...easy.

I may have just totally jinxed myself.

She's a great sleeper, barely fusses and just seems to have a mellow temperament. I have to actually wake her to eat, most of the time.

I'll be honest, I've still had my moments. Don't you just LOVE hormones? Gah. Honestly, I kind of didn't want to leave the hospital last Wednesday when I was discharged. I mean seriously, they have a menu and you can sit and order room service and I got to laze around in bed all day and not worry about dinner and laundry and it was SO quiet. And I had amazing nurses who didn't even piss me off when they woke me up every two hours to take my vitals. Then I realized the hospital was like staying in the most expensive hotel ever. So, I came home, to reality. As soon as I got home, I was happy to be here, to have my entire family intact and under one roof. Plus, my husband has been really amazing and supportive. I feel very lucky this last week that he's home and able to take some paternity leave.

For the most part, I feel calm and like somehow, I have my stuff together.

Then again, I'm still on narcotics. So I'll let you know how I'm REALLY doing in a few days when I totally stop taking them. I know there will be that moment at my one week post surgery check up when the nurse asks how I'm doing, how I'm really doing, and I'll burst into tears. And then they'll offer me the happy pills.

Believe me, if I though I was for reals experiencing PPD, I'd have no problem with the pills. But by and large, I'm a happy tears person at the moment.

Like right now, I'm looking at this picture...


Totally crying. And this one...

Come on.

Then I think about how fast this is going. Already. And that? That kind of makes me sad. But I'm excited. Even a little proud of myself for soldiering through this first week. Having the realization that I might be able to pull this mother of two thing off...for reals.

Mama of Two

We arrived at the hospital at 5:30 am yesterday. After changing into my super sexy hospital gown and answering a battery of questions, I was hooked up to an IV and the fetal monitor.

My in laws arrived at about 6:30 to keep us company. My step mother in law was engrossed with the baby's heartbeat. It was going from about 160 bpm to 120 bpm every few minutes.

Guess what? I was having contractions. Which I think is pretty awesome for two reasons...I could hardly feel them AND whether or not we had chosen the date for the planned C section, yesterday would have been baby's birthday.

At 7:30, I was wrapped in a blanket and shuffled across the hall to the OR. I was sick with apprehension over getting my spinal. I sat on the table, clutching a pillow, tears streaming down my face. B held my hands and the anesthesiologist talked me through the procedure. The worst part? In all honesty, it was the anticipation. My anesthesiologist was a total rock star. I started having major anxiety because I couldn't feel my chest raising when I took a breath, and she showed me that if I placed my hand on my chest while breathing, I could show myself I was, in fact, taking big, full breaths. It was like magic. Seriously.

The surgery began, and at 8 am on the dot, our beautiful daughter took her first breath.

And screamed. Best sound ever.

As I write this, she's snoring softly next to me.

She has a head full of dark wavy hair. Deep, dark inky blue eyes. Long, delicate fingers and toes. Her Daddy's full, heart shaped upper lip.

In a word? Delicious.

I wondered what she'd look like as I carried her around in my belly. Now I look at her and I can't imagine her looking any other way.

Tomorrow, we go home. And begin life as a family of four. We are complete now.

This little angel beside me was our missing puzzle piece.

Just Add Baby

I saw my doctor for the last time yesterday before we meet again in the O.R. on Monday. The appointment went well. Except for when he had a sharp intake of breath when he measured my belly. I am measuring 42 weeks. WHAT? I'm delivering a little shy of a week early.

I've got a big baby in my belly! Doc guessed close to 9 pounds. Feel free to add your guess in the comments. Please DO NOT guess how much weight I've gained. Or I might have to track you down and scratch at your face.

If you're wondering, the nursery is finally (CLOSE to) done. Done enough, I guess. The walls still need a little something. And I could have organized the drawers a little better. But considering the state my house was in last weekend, I'm feeling pretty good about what we've accomplished, and there wasn't too much yelling involved.

Also? G is happily settled in his new room and doesn't seem a bit bothered that he has been displaced by the baby.

We'll see if that continues next week.

So finally, here are some pics of the nursery. I pieced this sucker together on NO budget. Lots of hand me downs, lots of re purposing.

And I'm totally okay with that. In truth, it's more gratifying to pull something together out of almost nothing rather than just order an entire nursery out of a catalog.


The bedding IS from Pottery Barn; my lovely sisters and mother-in-law gifted us with this set at my shower. I adore it. So bright and cheerful.

We re-covered G's glider with watermelon hued minky dot fabric. I really wanted to paint the glider white, but never got around to it. The pieces on the wall were originally corporate art from my old job. They were being thrown out and I rescued them and covered them in quilting fabric.

We ditched the changing table idea and went with a regular dresser. I don't like changing tables much, they seem like such a limited piece of furniture. This dresser is from Ikea. The pad had non-skid material underneath.


Baby shoes. Love.

And the only stuffed animal I bought for the little (warrior) princess. I couldn't resist. The colors were too perfect and I adore the whole owl trend that seems to be everywhere in nursery decor.

Three days till we meet this little babe!

P.S. If anyone has any ideas for wall decor, let me know. I already thought about putting her initials somewhere, but they are C.R.D.

Which is a little too close to crud for my taste.

Missing Pants With Waistbands...

Okay, truthfully, I am missing pants.

We are t-minus six days till delivery and I can no longer deal with waistbands of any variety...regular OR maternity. And lets not even talk about shirts. Nothing is covering the belly at this point in time. I've slipped into the realm of maxi dresses, tunics and leggings.

Folks, I'm huge.

Yes, the water retention I'd staved off for so long has reared it's ugly head. Hello, cankles! I will say I'm thankful they waited until now to show up. I remember sitting in the tub at 7 months during my first pregnancy and screaming out to my poor husband, "Get in here!"

Poor guy came racing in to me pointing tearfully to my legs.

"I have elephant ankles," I sobbed.

And from that day on, it was all about the Crocs for me. That was all I could shove my poor swollen feet into...and was a GREAT look for work where I was required to dress office casual.

So this time, I'm trying to take it in stride. This too shall pass, hopefully at the hospital, in the form of pee or sweat...

I'll tell you what I'm not looking forward to - losing the baby weight. After my son, I didn't even really start losing the weight till a YEAR after he was born. And even then it was a struggle. Honestly, the factors that finally helped me drop the weight were: losing my job, caring for my dying mother in law, quitting breastfeeding after two years and training for a half marathon.

Two of those things I don't care to repeat. Stress as a diet is not a great option, trust.

So on to the ending breastfeeding - you might be like "Well, doesn't breastfeeding help you lose weight?"

In a word (or two) : eff no.

I am in the lucky .05% of women who hang onto pregnancy weight while breastfeeding. At least that's what my doc told me. Maybe he was just trying to soothe my borderline PPD.

Regardless, I will be breastfeeding this baby. I'm hoping against all hope that this time around, I can be one of those bitches who breezily says "I breastfed and the weight just evaporated."

I'm looking at you, Gisele.

Otherwise, running, here I come. Just call me Forrest Gump.

Twelve Days & I'm Officially Panicking.

Please standby for a nervous breakdown, in:

5. The nursery isn't ready.
4. My house looks like it vomited on itself.
3. Did I mention the nursery isn't ready?
2. My three year old is sensing imminent and huge changes in his up until now blissful and unchallenged princedom. It's not going well.
1. And yeah, the NURSERY IS NOT FREAKING EVEN STARTED.

So.

I'm kind of going back and forth between acceptance and HUGE, irritable 'I'm 38 and a handful of days pregnant and things aren't just the way I want them and someone MUST PAY' rage.

I know my body is ready to be done being pregnant. I hurt everywhere. I have heartburn so bad that it makes my ear canals burn when I belch (which is all the time). Clothes are uncomfortable and I may start wearing caftans. Mrs. Roper chic...it's the hotness.

Mentally, I'm not ready. For some reason, my surroundings - i.e. my house - have to be completely prepared before I will let myself accept we're bringing another baby home. Logically I know that she's coming home no matter what and will not care if all she has is a bassinet, clean diapers and a boob.

But I care. Mucho.

Tomorrow, I have my second to last OB appointment. Yes, folks, this baby is coming whether I'm ready or not. And the way I'm carrying? I have a sneaking suspicion she may come early. Hold on, little girl. I need you to stay put till May 9. Do not deviate from the plan.

Looky here...mommy and daughter already butting heads. Yikes. Hopefully not a sign of things to come...

Stupid Things People Say #19029379003081209371987

People say the most idiotic things to you while you're pregnant, but I may have the one that takes the cake.

A little background...my son was born via emergency c-section. So this new baby will be delivered via planned c-section. And yes, we do have a date. May 9.

I thought about trying a VBAC (vaginal birth after C, for those not in the know)for about two seconds. Then I remembered how harrowing my first experience was. And I spoke to my doctor, who made me feel good about my decision to deliver via C. I know that some women like to try, but for me, I just feel better about safety, for both me and the babe, going with the C. I'm not too keen on my uterus bursting during a contraction.

So, in short, yay for people who want to give natural a try after C, but it's not for me, and it's my decision.

And with that I'll hop off of my soapbox.

So, back to the asinine things people say...

Back in December during a holiday gathering (and I can't believe I didn't think to write about this until now), I was talking to a family member and they asked when I was due. I told them the estimated date, but also that we'd pick the date for the C. He didn't know I'd had an emergency C with G.

He made some comment about how that sucks (he's REALLY articulate) and I agreed, but jokingly said, 'At least I don't have to go through labor again.' And let me just say, if I could, I would have my children naturally. I've beat myself up over it, and struggled with many feelings of failure after my first attempt.

And he looks at me, dead serious, and says 'Well, that's cheating.'

Most of the time, I'd take that kind of comment as a joke. But if you knew this guy, and that he has no capacity for sarcasm and that he probably thinks facetious has something to do with the temperament of a dog, I knew he was not at all joking.

Yeah, I pretty much wanted to kick him in his ignorant nuts.

Because he is married to someone who has NO tolerance for pain, got an epidural at 2 centimeters dilated and basically sneezed her children out.

Because he's telling me I'M CHEATING BY HAVING MAJOR ABDOMINAL SURGERY.

Seriously.

SERIOUSLY.

You can't make this stuff up.

We're only related by marriage. We're only related by marriage. My children do not have any of his genes.

And that is a huge relief.

I Love Sugar But This is Ridiculous.

I am sitting in the waiting room at the OB with three other pregnant women. We are watching the Ambush Makeover segment on The Today Show and all of us are crying.

In our defense, it's a really happy/sad story (they made over a woman suffering from MS who is wheelchair bound).

Oh, hormones.

So, I'm not just hanging out at the doc for fun. No, I'm here cause I flunked my first glucose screening. As of this moment, I am a little over halfway done with my three hour screening. What does this entail? Fast for twelve hours, get blood drawn, drink a God awful glucose drink, which I'm pretty sure is similar to what they put in hummingbird feeders, wait an hour, have a blood draw, wait an hour, have a blood draw, wait an hour, final blood draw.

Did I mention you can't eat? And that the Today show featured Paula Deen this morning?

Baby girl is going absolutely insane from all the sugar. It's a orange glucose drink fueled dance party in my uterus.

This test is to determine whether or not I have gestational diabetes. Fingers crossed I pass this test!

In the meantime, I am meticulously and obsessively planning what food I am going to hoover in exactly two hours...

Because Gestating is Not Enough...

To Do List Before #2 Arrives:

1) Play Musical Bedrooms. G's room will become the nursery. Our room will become G's room. The front guest bedroom/office will become our room. Did I mention I have to clean out all three rooms and purge all the junk? I've been chipping away at it, but I have no idea how we've accumulated so much crap in five years.

2) Decorate Said Rooms. Paint. I think that's about all I can handle. I've picked out the nursery theme after about two months of agonizing. I wanted something girly but not over the top. Mostly, I didn't want all pastel - and this is what I chose:

[Yes, it's Pottery Barn. I tried to go all indie, but PB kept pulling me back in. Don't judge.]

You see that tiny bit of aqua in the corner of the bumper? That's the wall color. I think. So yes, there's a little pink, but the red kind of toughens it up a bit. At least that's what I'm telling myself.

3) Convert the Garage into a Family Room. I'm actually laughing at myself as I type this, because I think the chances of this happening are comparable to winning the lottery. We need the space so bad. But I'm thinking this will stay firmly on the to do list.

4) Have Some Kind of Garage Sale. Or, in alternative, rent a Uhaul and make a trip to Goodwill. Or have a massive bonfire in the backyard. This last option may become more viable the more stressed and crazy I get.

5) Potty Train G. Just kidding. This is a pipe dream. I've read all the books. I've tried several methods including just putting underwear on him and watching him like a hawk. Inevitably, I turn my back for five seconds and there's an accident. Am I getting judgment? Yes. Mostly from older relatives who are like, JUST FORCE HIM. Yeah. That's a great idea. I love the idea of scarring my child for life so things can be more convenient for me. Plus? I'm guessing even if I got him 'trained' by the time baby arrives, he'll regress. So potty training goes on the back burner. I'll just keep telling myself that he won't go to Kindergarten in diapers.

6) Pick Baby's Middle Name. Okay, I don't usually put my older child's name in this blog, but I'll this one time tell you (or maybe when she's born too) baby girl's name: we're calling her Charlotte. This has been our girl name for long before G was born. So now we need a middle name. I have a few in my head, but usually my ideas are poo-pooed immediately. I'm thinking maybe I won't bring it up at all and just use the one I pick when I fill out her birth certificate info? Cunning, I know. But I'm open to suggestions. I grew up with a super vanilla middle (and, let's face it, first) name, so unusual is good. Just no crazy spellings. That drives me nuts.

7) Stock the Freezer. I did a pretty good job of preparing and freezing meals before G was born and it was a life saver. I need to do the same this time, but I need some ideas. I usually do turkey chili, spaghetti sauce and a bunch of soups. If anybody has any easily freezable recipes, sent them to me...please! I'll love you forever. Not that I don't love you already...

I know there's much more I need to tackle. Those are the biggies.

Oh. I forgot something.

8) Try Not to Lose My Mind. It might be too late...

Late Breaking News: Va Jay Jay Wand Works!

So I'm reading the title to this post and it sounds a lot like I'm writing about a sex toy. But I'm leaving it, cause I want people to be all disappointed when they come here to perv out and I'm talking about the gender of my unborn child.

You all are sick. Sick, I say!

Anyhow, I'm very late getting here to report that we are, to the relief of many family members, having a girl child. And don't get me wrong, I'm beyond thrilled. Over the moon (gag). But I have to be honest...all the boy hate had me a little up in arms and indignant.

Moving on, though. Moving on. I'm a little over halfway through this pregnancy. I don't know if it's the extra girl fetus estrogen, but I have to admit, I've been a weepy mess. Yeah, I know pregnant ladies are emotional, but I can barely even turn the television on these days without getting verklempt. Have you seen those 'Foundation for a Better Life' spots? Brutal. BRUTAL.

My little G has been sick since Sunday. There is nothing worse than the look of terror on a little kid's face when they throw up. I think he's on the upswing. Now here's to hoping I don't get sick. Where's the Purell?

This little post is going to be, well, little. Cause little dude is waking up from a nap and I've got to resume coaxing him to eat. Next up?Popsicles. For him too.

It's Almost Christmas and I Haven't Kicked Anyone (Yet)

Something very strange is happening to me this year.

I'm enjoying the holidays.

Maybe it's because I actually feel pretty prepared this year. I don't think I am actually more prepared than usual, I just decided to give myself a break this year.

It probably has more to do with my son actually getting excited over Christmas this year. He loves the tree and is showing it by letting it remain upright, rather than pushing it over and removing the ornaments. We read 'The Night Before Christmas' every night, and he has it memorized. He plays constantly with his nativity scene. We went and saw Santa and he was SO excited he actually behaved.

It is so cliche, but so true. Reliving Christmas through your children can somehow smother the Grinch.

Admittedly, I'm still dreading some family functions, but honestly? There are relatives I dread seeing no matter what time of year. Like the one who eyeballs me in horror and wonders out loud how I've gained so much weight (uh, I'm pregnant?). Or the one who compares my son to her grandchild who is three months younger and potty trained and why isn't G potty trained and you really need to get him potty trained before the new baby arrives.

I would like to add that that particular relative will bombard me with this 'advice', then in the same breath add that her daycare potty trained her child because she couldn't handle it.

And then, we have the numerous family members who are obsessed with me having a girl this time round. Not even joking, I think they will be literally angry with me if I have a boy.

I'll see what I can do. Monday is the 'big' ultrasound, so maybe I can wave my magic wand and guarantee a vagina.

If not, I'm seriously considering calling in sick to a few upcoming functions.

I'm Going to Try to Write This Between Dry Heaving (Urp)

Blogging has been on the dead bottom of my list for a while. I've clicked over here, looked around for a minute or two, thought about writing something. left.

It's hard to write about stuff when you've only got one thing on your mind and you're not supposed to talk about it.

But as of today, I'm talking.

I'm pregnant, knocked up, in the family way. About 12 weeks, so just about in my second trimester.

And I am so ready to be in the glorious second trimester. That promised land where you're not supposed to feel like you're dying every waking second. This pregnancy has been NOTHING like my first. My first, I had a little nausea, but nothing that couldn't been soothed with well timed snacks.

This time? Well, I'll put it this way...my OB gave my a prescription for the same nausea meds they generally give to chemo patients. On top of that, unbelievable fatigue - so bad I could literally lay down in the middle of the living room and sleep after only being awake for a couple of hours. And dizziness. And headaches.

It's been the pits, for serious.

But I see light at the end of the tunnel. The other night I told my husband, well, it will end. Maybe not till the baby is out, but it will end (please God, let it end SOON).

Of course, the drastic difference in this pregnancy has led to all kinds of speculation on the baby...IT'S A GIRL. Or, are you sure it's not twins? Yes, I had the doctor triple check. So unless someones really good at hiding, the Nugget is a singleton.

I'm calling it Nugget, by the way. For now.

So, there you have it...I haven't died, though to be honest, some days I've thought the end is near. I won't be such a stranger. Promise.

Now excuse me while I go sip on some damn ginger tea.

Two Years Ago Today: Part II

On January 22, 2008, I started the day (or VERY early morning) staggering into the maternity ward at the hospital. But not after getting lost because we did not know where we were supposed to check in.

Did I mention we didn't take a baby class or a hospital tour? Yeah. Whoops.

Luckily, I did manage to pre-register, so when I waddled up to the check in desk, in the midst of a mind bending contraction, B was able to tell them my name and I was admitted right away.

And as soon as I got into the room, I puked. Again. Tater tot casserole. Mmmm.

There really wasn't much of a question as to whether or not I wanted an epidural, especially since I was in so much pain at 4 centimeters. I had all intentions of seeing how far I could go without drugs. For reals. But between vomiting every time I had a contraction, and the fact that I didn't seem to have any lull BETWEEN contractions (I found out later I was having back labor), I was pretty much asking my husband to draw a target on my lower back with a sharpie.

Epidural. NOW. Ahhhh.

I could have made out with the anesthesiologist.

My doctor came about an hour later and since I wasn't really progressing, he ordered pitocin. The pitocin, well, it made my contractions worse. As in I could feel them through the drugs.

Four to five hours later, I had just finally made it to an eight. They broke my water, and I was supposed to get more pitocin. But the head nurse (who was a major pain in the ass, and treated my husband like he was an idiot) made the executive decision to hold off on the pit because I was 'non-emergent'. Meaning, my baby wasn't crowning. I guess the full moon had brought in laboring women in droves. Thirteen women were admitted after I was and their babies were born before I delivered.

So, my pitocin was put on hold. And I'm pretty sure she forgot about it. Another nurse helped me roll to my other side, and then the fetal monitor sounded funny. As in, it slowed way WAY down.

I was in a haze, between the epidural and sheer exhaustion, but the look on my husbands face and the fact that my sister in law had tears in her eyes, well, I knew something was wrong.

The baby's heart rate had dropped from 160 to 80. And it wasn't coming up.

The nurses flipped me back to my other side and his heart rate came back up, slowly. Whew. But, at this point, the doctor made the decision that the baby had to come out. Immediately.

I was prepped for surgery. My mom and sister-in-law helped B get dressed in his scrubs. Poor guy - he was terrified. As was I.

The doctor who was to perform the surgery was not my regular OB, but I had met with him. And I knew I liked him - and I discovered I liked him even better when he straight off started cracking jokes in the operating room and tried to put me at ease.

It worked. Well, I'm sure being numbed from the chest down didn't hurt either. Something about being completely numb was strangely comforting for me. I know some people don't like it, but after all the previous pain, I was relieved.

Within 45 minutes of the decision to perform a C-Section, we met our little boy for the first time.


Even though the birth was disappointing, nothing could take away from the magic of the moment. He came out screaming, and peed all over the doctor. My first glimpse of him told me that he looked JUST like his Daddy.

Our George.


I can still smell that delicious baby smell, and hear the little tiny baby coos.

Today, my baby turns TWO YEARS OLD.

The sweet baby smell has been replaced by little boy smells - not bad, just different - and the little coos are now full fledged words.

'No, Mommy.'
'Mommy, watchu doin'?'
'Are you kiddin' me?' (I kid you not, he said this last week).

He's a little boy who loves dancing to Jack's Big Music Show. He jumps more than he walks. He spends a lot of time coloring at his easel...and on the walls. He's slightly obsessed with Diego. He tries to hug and kiss his dogs. He gives his Daddy high fives and is a champion snuggler. He won't eat chicken nuggets, but devours avocado, green beans and tofu with gusto.


He's the G-Rex. He's ours. He's two (Sob!).

Happy Birthday to my little man!

Showered

This is my youngest sister-in-law.

Her name is Rachel. And in six weeks, give or take a few days (or weeks!), she's going to be a mama. She is having a little girl.


She's got the whole 'glow' thing down pat.

Yesterday, my oldest sister-in-law, Julie, and I threw her a shower. Now, Julie and I are old hat at this shower business. We've thrown too many several showers in the (gulp) eight years I've been with her brother. Baby showers, wedding showers, bachelorette parties...you name it. And to be quite honest, we usually end up in a crumpled heap on the floor afterwards. Why? Because we have a problem with doing things for people who have entitlement issues...not thankful, not grateful. No. They think they deserve it. End of story.

So, suffice it to say, we've grown a bit bitter on the whole shower thing as of late.

Until yesterday. This shower yesterday? Lovely. All around. And the very best guest of honor we've had to date.

I don't expect a huge dramatic thank you, or anything over the top. It was just, I guess, the feeling, the warmth Rachel exuded throughout the day. She was just happy. I LOVED IT. EVERY SINGLE MINUTE.

And the food? Yeah, I have to say it was amazing. And, since I wasn't in charge of the camera during the food portion - I only have one shot. The cake, a five layer bad ass of a cake. Julie made it, and it was insane. We literally only had a few crumbs to sample. We ran out of cake just as I served the last guest. Whew!


If you could pan out on the table, we had some pretty fine eats. And somehow, we had JUST the right amount of food.

We had each guest decorate a onesie for the baby. So fun (and messy). We ruined a few tablecloths - whoops.

Love this one:


And these are so sweet:


But my favorite was decorated by a seven year old - we deemed this the one that will NEVER dry what with the five pounds of paint on it. Can you read what it says?

"Littel Miss Messy." I think this may have to go in a frame. It even has strategically placed orange paint in the diaper area.

At the end, we 'sisters' got together to commemorate the day. Me, Rachel and Julie. A few years ago, this whole event may have never happened. If there was a shower, Julie and I may not have been there. But now, we're together, as a family, and we're all better for it.

Yesterday was exhausting, but incredible. My heart is full, Rachel's nursery is stocked, and I can't wait for my new niece to arrive!

Milestone (Maybe)

So, guess what?

I'm going to Vegas in three days! Woot! The hubs is letting me tag along to biggest nerd herd gathering on planet earth the Consumer Electronics Show. I joke about it being all geeky and stuff, but honestly? I'm wicked excited.

On the flip side, I'm kind of freaking out because we are leaving the G-Rex behind. He is staying with my parents. It will be the longest we've ever left him. I'm sure he'll be fine. I'm the one who will be a wreck.

Did I mention I haven't fully weaned him yet? This may be the end of the nursing. Again, I'm sure he'll hardly notice, but I'll be crying...INTO MY COCKTAIL, FLYING TO VEGAS.

I can't believe I've made it this far with breastfeeding. For a long time, I wanted to at least make it to a year. Then, I decided 18 months. Now that he actually walks up and tells me 'NURSE RIGHT NOWWWWW' while yanking down my shirt, I think it's time to call it a day.

And I will be sad. I won't lie - a few anticipatory tears have already been shed. The last remnant of him being a baby will be gone. He'll be a little boy.

I don't know if I'm ready.

Can I stop time? For a little bit, at least?

Please?

Let Them Eat Cake!

I went to my dear friend Stacie's baby shower this last Saturday. It was wonderful to catch up with a whole bunch of friends I haven't seen in quite some time. And so many of them are pregnant!

Towards the end of the shower, I look over to the food table and THEY'RE ALL EATING CAKE. It was only the pregnant ones, and it was priceless.

I had to take a picture. Thanks ladies for humoring me!



Aren't they beautiful? From left, Tosha(due in June), Stacie (due in May), Tara (due in July) and Rachel (due in April).

Oh yeah, they're all having GIRLS. G will have lots of girlfriends to choose from in a few years!

A Food Winner (Alternate Title: How Many Times Can I Write Balls in One Post?)

Being a SAHM (stay at home mom or sweet ass hot mama) has it's benefits. One being I can actually dabble more in scratch cooking, which I really enjoy. I've decided to hone my mad skillz on my poor son.
G has moved into this stage where he refuses to be fed but is pretty unsuccessful with flatware. He'll get a bite or two in then use his spoon as a drum stick (the drum kind, not the chicken kind) or a utensil to feed the dogs. So I've been trying to come up with healthy finger foods - though some days chicken nuggets from the freezer are mighty tempting - for me and him. Man, I love breaded chicken. Okay, breaded anything.
The last two days I've had some success. Here's one: Sweet Potato and Chicken Balls. I need a better name for them, but it'll have to do for now.

You'll need:

1/2 large sweet potato, cubed
1 medium russet potato, cubed
2 Tb butter (unsalted or salted, your choice)
1 boneless, skinless chicken breast, diced
1 carrot, shredded or diced
1/2 small onion, diced
flour, for breading
oil (I used olive, you can use that or vegetable)

Put the potatoes in a pot, cover with water and bring to a boil. Boil for 12-15 minutes, or until they're mash-able. Drain, and mash with 1/2 the butter.

In a skillet, saute the onion and carrot in a bit of oil till they start to soften. Add the chicken and cook till done, about 10 minutes, depending on how small you chopped it.

Process the cooked chicken mixture in a food processor and add the chicken mixture to the potato mixture. Form the mixture into little balls about the size of large marbles. Dip the little balls into the flour to lightly coat.

Heat a skillet with butter and oil (oil has a higher smoke point and will help the butter from burning). Place the breaded balls into the pan and brown on all sides. Drain on a paper towel. Cool a bit and serve. These also freeze well - freeze them on a cookie sheet before transferring to a freezer bag.

PS. These are good for adults too. I ate a few for lunch with some salad.
PPS. You can also do these as mini pancakes. But then you don't get to say BALLS.

Makin' Baby's (Food): A Simple Tutorial

I've never fed G any food out of a jar. When I tell people this, I sometimes get comments like 'wow, you must have a lot of free time' - sha' right! While it does take a wee bit of commitment to get up and running, making your own baby food is super easy, economical (HELLO RECESSION!), and the best way to make sure your kiddo is getting the very best ingredients and a varied diet.
So, I'm going to hop off my soapbox now and actually tell you how to whip up some baby grub.

First, the gear.

Must have:
ice cube trays
blender or food processor
nice deep pot and a steam basket (this one is cheap and easy to clean)
sieve or fine mesh strainer
Freezer bags
Sharpie marker

Nice to have:
stick (also called immersion) blender - these are great if you have little space and can replace the blender/processor
food mill - good for grinding things like peas where you need to get rid of the skin

Next step - grocery shopping! To be very honest I'm not super vigilant about organic. B works in a nursery and is very knowledgeable on pesticides and the like, so I don't get too worked up about organic vs. regular produce. Especially for things like squash where you're going to discard all of the peel. But that decision is entirely up to the chef - that is the beauty of making your own baby food - you get to decide what goes into it!

Here are a few ideas for some easy, freezable first foods:

Pear - Peel and core, chop and steam. Cool and puree, then pour into ice cube trays and freeze.
Apple - See Pear.
Butternut Squash - Peel, chop and steam OR bake in the oven (pour a little water or orange juice in hollow and cover with foil) and scoop out the flesh. Puree, adding water to bring to the right consistency. Pour into ice cube trays and freeze.
Yams - Bake in the oven (this produces the sweetest taste) and scoop out insides. Puree like the squash. Pour into ice cube trays and freeze.
Peas - I buy frozen, no salt added. Steam the peas, puree and push through a fine mesh strainer or sieve to get rid of the excess skin - the skin is a little tough for beginners. Pour pea puree into ice cube tray and freeze.

You might ask why ice cube trays? I find they freeze just the right portion for a baby just starting solids. Once the food has frozen, I pop the little portions out into marked freezer bags. At mealtime, simply choose your food and pop it in the microwave for about 25-30 seconds. Stir vigorously to get rid of hot spots and check the temperature before feeding to baby.

That's it!

If you're still skeptical about the time this takes - take heed. It only takes about an hour, max, on a Sunday afternoon to produce enough food for an entire week - or maybe two. So it's really not too much of a time commitment.

Now, for a little inspiration. Once your child is old enough that you've tried a good base lineup of foods and ruled out allergies, you can start using more complicated recipes. I've found a couple of really great cookbooks for ideas:

Top 100 Baby Purees by Annabel Karmel - Easy to read, quick recipes and very tasty. This is a good book to start with, goes over all the basics of preparation and nutrition.
The Petit Appetit Cookbook by Lisa Barnes - This one is fun, creative and especially good if you're going the organic route.

I've gained so much from preparing all of G's food - I'm not home with him all the time, so it's a good feeling to know that when he eats meals while I'm at work, it's something I put time and effort into. I know it benefits his health and saves some money. And who doesn't want to do that these days!

Baby Axel Update

A month or so ago, I wrote about my cousin's little baby boy who was born addicted to methadone. Last week he was finally released from the hospital (he was in for about six weeks). My uncle and aunt were granted custody - which is what we were all hoping for.

There was an intervention for my cousin - I didn't go, it was decided it would be better with just immediate family. A proposal was made for her to go into rehab for a month, then enter a halfway house where Axel could live with her, but they'd be under constant supervision.

She and her boyfriend (also the father) walked out. I am just stunned they could walk away from their baby, just like that. But addiction is powerful, and in reality, baby Axel is probably in a more safe, nurturing environment then he would have been with his mother. If she or the boyfriend show up, my aunt and uncle are to call 911.

My mom got to meet the little guy last week and said he looks good. He's fairly small (11 lbs at 2 months), but all I have to compare with is my gargantuan son. The pediatrician's prognosis is very good - and we're all hoping for the best.

Back when this all hit the fan, I contacted La Leche League about donating my frozen breast milk to Axel. I figured he needs all the help he can get. I was wondering how accepting of the idea my family would be, but everyone has been absolutely open about it and I feel really good that all the frozen milk I have stockpiled will go to good use. I will continue to send up as much as I can until I wean George. Hopefully whatever the milk contains that is making my kid grow so fast will work a little magic on Axel!

Baby-Palooza!

I just found out Friday that one of my bestest-besties is pregnant with her first child. This now means that in the next six months I know of six new bundles that will be arriving. Right now the count is: 1 boy (lucky, lucky boy!), 3 girls and 2 TBD. Crazy!

On the whole subject of crazy, I saw an article about a couple up in Abbotsford, B.C. who just had their 18th natural child in 23 years. No multiples, no adoptions. I'd figure after about baby 10, her uterus would go on strike. They say they are 'letting God guide their lives'. I say they are letting certain - ahem - body parts guide their lives!

I guess the Duggars are no longer the 'biggest family in the world'. Though that claim must be up for debate, I'm sure there are larger. But wait...they just announced #18. So they'll be caught up to the Abottsford couple, at least for a few months.

I became semi-obsessed with watching the Duggars when they had all their specials on Discovery Health. I have to admit, the whole organization (which, with 17 kids - 1 on the way - is how you'd have to classify their family) is fascinating. But as interesting as this massive family is, it's also a little disturbing. When does all this breeding become irresponsible? Sure, they apparently can afford to have all these kids, but at what cost to the children? How much attention can two parents give 18 kids? And to that end, if you are so compelled to have so many children, why add a few adopted kids into the mix?

I really shouldn't feed the beast and watch their shows, but it's like a train wreck. I can't stop. Help me!