Did that seriously just happen?!

My oldest turns three in May.  She is beautiful, smart, resourceful, funny, and stubborn.  That last quality has had her on and off the potty training wagon for almost a year and half.  These past few months, however, it has really been clicking.  So, this week we took the daytime diapers away.  When she is awake, she has to wear underwear.

This hasn't been too much of a big deal to her, until tonight ... when she had to poop.  She asked for a diaper. ... "Only babies wear diapers during the day." ... You could see the response in her eyes "that's ok.  I'll just hold it until I get a diaper." ... Only she couldn't.

After a rocky start, she had success!  She repeatedly apologized for not pooping in her diaper.  It took three tries, but I finally got her to understand that the potty chair is supposed to hold poop and potty.  Once she understood that, she was very proud of her success.  She needed to show it to dad.  "Daaaad!  M has something that she wants to shoooow yooooou!!"

A victory dance later, we were in the bathroom, ready to flush her poop.  She wanted to wave goodbye to it ... and blew it a kiss.  She wanted to give it a snuggle ... but changed her mind when she learned that it would leave poop on her dress.  We eventually flushed it, so it could go on the "slide" to the sewer.  (I really don't hope that comes back to bite me.)

Once everything was cleaned up, we celebrated with some pop rocks.  The smile on her face when she figured out that chewing them makes them pop louder was absolutely priceless!

Baby Logic

It was such a nice day yesterday, that we decided to go to the park and play.  We started out on the playground equipment, and M enjoyed that a lot.  We swung, we slid, we rocked in a boat-thingy, and we played in the wood chips (thankfully M remembered that wood chips are not food). 

After a while the play ground got too crowded.  We started to feel like we were in the way (since M is too small to play on her own, we have to be on the equipment with her ... she isn't quite walking yet), and we didn't want to cause an accident, so we moved to a grassy spot.

M loved playing on the grass.  She even crawled normally!  Previous attempts caused her to crawl like a cat with shoes on.  It was very entertaining.  She found a dandelion, and plucked at it.  She found several crinkly leaves, and tried to eat them.  To her credit, for the first ten "that's not food"s she would put it right back down.  On the tenth, it made a mad dash for her mouth.

She saw a dog, and wanted to play.  Nick took her on a stroll of the park to find a "baby-friendly" dog that M could pet.   I sat in the sun, and loved the feel of it on my skin.

She came back, and crawled around some more.  Then she found a good sized rock.  It was easily twice the size of her fist ... and she was absolutely certain that it was food.  Most of the time a quick "that's not food" would cause her to reverse the course of the rock ... but a few times I had to get my hand between the rock and her mouth. 

After half a dozen failed attempts of eating the rock, she decided to try a new tactic.  She crawled over to her treat cup, put the rock in her treat cup, and THEN pulled it out to eat it.

Oh boy!  **Sigh**  I think we are in trouble.

The proper bedtime routine

Tonight we got schooled on the proper order of the bed time routine. 

After dinner baby kept pointing and gesturing until I took her into the bathroom.  Then she showed me the tub.  Ok.  Message received.  Bath directly after dinner.  (During the bath, she kept saying her new word "bath."  That makes baby's vocabulary "up", "bath", "out", and the occasional "ma" or "da" which really don't seem to mean much.)

After we got jammies on, we came out into the living room.  It's been a few weeks since she has wanted to go to bed before seven (yea!! That makes us feel less like she is living her life away at daycare!) so we figured she would want to play.  Nope.  She acted sleepy until dad picked her up, and sat in the chair with her.  She then made a bee-line to her water bottle and wouldn't let go.  Ok.  Message received.  Bottle right after bath. 

After she finished most of her milk bottle, she was ready to play.  (I may say milk, but the price indicates that it is liquid gold ... only white ... and nonmetallic.)  Ok.  Message received.  After bottle, we play.  So, we decided to go with Nick to fix the computers in the family history center.  (Apparently the printer said something a few weeks ago, and now the computers are not willing to talk to it.) 

We went armed with the instructions that came with the printer.  Unfortunately, it wasn't much help.  While Nick called the computer shrinks at church headquarters, baby and I walked around the building.  We went all the way to the multipurpose room, and found a basketball.  The hoop was down, so we shot a few hoops.  (Baby is an excellent player, by the way.  I should know, I was there.)  We then brought the basketball back to the family history center.  Baby and I chased that basketball all over the place!  She even took the opportunity to stand for about 30 seconds unassisted.  A new record.  Oh, and we found a new wall outlet to attempt to play with.

Finally everything was resolved, and the computers and printers were again communicating with each other.  (Nothing sucks worse than a sullen computer network.)  We brought the basketball back to the multipurpose room, and played a little family ball.  (Baby is still an excellent player.  Now dad can attest.)  We left the ball there, and turned off all the lights on our way out of the building.

Once home, I took off the baby's jacket and handed it to Nick.  He was hanging his up in the closet.  I then handed him my jacket, to add to the collection he just put there.

Nick:  "What are we teaching the baby?"
Baby:  BURRRP!!!

After a good laugh, we brushed the baby's teeth and gave her a water bottle.  She could barely keep her eyes open.

Bed time at our house

WAAAAA!  I'm so tired.

WAAAAA!  You took my onesie off.

WAAAAA!  You took my diaper off.

WAAAAA!  You put me in a tub of warm water .... wait .... warm water? ....  I'm going to kick now.  Here, mom, you can wash my foot if you want.  Want to wash the other one?  How about this one again?

WAAAAA!  You took me out of the tub.

WAAAAA!  You put me down.  Oh, Ok.  I like wearing a diaper.  Baby lotion? .... Here's my foot.  No, mom, not my arms.  Don't you see me holding out my foot?  NO, MOM!  Not my tummy.  Don't you see me holding out my foot?

WAAAAA!  You put pajamas on me.  Oh, a bottle .... I like bottles.

.... Ten to twenty minutes later ....

ZZZZZZ

Damaged Goods Are Nonrefundable

N:  Is that what I think it is?
J:  That depends on what you think it is.
N:  M's uumbilical cord.
J:  Yes!
N:  That's gross!  Throw it away.
J:  **Gasp!** You want to throw away a part of our baby!
N:  What do you usually do with body parts that fall off?
J:  Pack them in ice and take them to the OR with you?
N:  **Rolls his eyes** Do what you want with it, just don't let me see it.

Probably TMI

Ok, so I don't know if anyone wants to read this (and it will probably be TMI for just about everyone--I know these things usually are for me) but I've decided that I would like to record what I remember of the drug filled haze of our baby girl's birth.  And I apologize in advance if this becomes like a train wreck (where you start looking out of curiosity, and can't turn away no matter how badly you want to.)

We'll start at not quite the beginning, but at the beginning of the end.

May 11th--Friday  (Last day of work--Baby's due on the 21st)
Today I was on my feet all day, and going as fast as I could (which, in all honestly, wasn't particularly fast) to get everything finished up.  I had finally got the stockroom clean (the first time since last summer when all the bench top space was clear and clean).  However, we needed to sign the lease for our new apartment that evening, so I didn't get my desk moved out of the emeritus office.  Nick was so kind, he came back with me (even though he was planning on going back to work himself) and helped me move everything into the stockroom.  In the process, we covered the bench tops that I had just uncovered.

By that time I was so sore (baby was sitting so low that my doctor wasn't even able to check to see if I was dilated or not) that I couldn't stand for one more minute.  We decided that it would be best to come back for an hour or so on Saturday to finish. 

We went home, ate some food, and I took what passes for a hot bath when you're pregnant.  Let's just say it's a good thing she's cute, because there was a lot of cold "hot" baths during those months.  I then crawled into bed, and tried to get some sleep between bathroom runs.  (Not an easy task when they come every hour.)

May 12th--Saturday
Our ward's Relief Society threw me a baby shower this day.  It was a lot of fun (no games, just people coming and going as their schedule permitted) and I really enjoyed talking with everyone.  Many of the gals shared stories about when they were pregnant, or from their babies first few weeks at home.  It was inevitable that a horror story or two would come out.  It is absolutely hilarious to watch everyone else as someone tells one of these stories ... and even more enjoyable to see everyone immediately start to reassure me that won't happen to me. 

I have such sweet friends.  They'll lie through their teeth to keep from scaring a new mom, but that's just part of their charm.  (Little did they know, that by being the oldest of 6 ... most of whom have ADD ... their stories were no where near the worst that I have seen kids do.  We'll just conveniently forget all that I remember doing to my parents, because I was a perfect angel.)

The baby shower lasted a bit longer than I thought it would, so instead of heading right over to work I went home to rest.  Nick got called out on some stake business that needed doing, so we decided that we would go finish cleaning the stockroom after dinner.  I went to the bathroom, while Nick started on the dishes.  While in the bathroom, my water broke.  I just want to let everyone out there know that this does NOT have to be the gush that all the sources say it was.  Mine wasn't.  Just a trickle, that I knew wasn't pee because: 1. my bladder was still full and 2. the color was all wrong.

I called the on call doctor, and I must confess, I lied to her.  She asked if it was a gush, and I said yes.  She had us head out to the hospital.  At the hospital, they were able to check, and I was barely dilated to a 1.  They told me to rest while we waited to see if labor would start on it's own.  It didn't, and about an hour later they started to induce me.  Right around midnight I requested an epidural so I could sleep. 

May 13th--Sunday (Mother's day)
Around 6 am they had me start to push.  I pushed, but she was getting stuck on my pelvis.  The doctor kept saying that there was plenty of room, if she would just turn around.  Several attempts were made to help her turn the right way (Apparently babies fit through the birth canal better if they are face down.  When they are face up, the back of their head gets stuck on the mother's pelvis.), but she would just flip right back into her preferred position.  (Aye!  She already thinks she knows it all!)  After two hours, and no progress, it was decided that a C-section would be the safest way to deliver her. 

The anesthesiologist came back in to start the spinal block.  When he came in he said "It looks like you're going for the full package."  I thought "I figured I should try everything once," but I didn't want to jinx my surgery.  Now I wish I had said it. 

It was lucky that she wouldn't twist around.  Nick told me that they could see her through my uterus.  (I so wish he had got pictures.  I would have loved to see that.)  That's when the doctors realized that no matter what they did, my uterus was going to rupture.  When they went to take her out, she did a somersault and tried to run away.  (This stubborn streak really does not bode well for the future.  Especially since she is not quite a month old now and is already fighting naps.)  They ended up pulling her out by her ankle.  Nick tried to show me our little girl right after they handed her to him.  He told me that she was here, and I tried my hardest to open my eyes but I couldn't.  I don't even think my eyelids fluttered.  I remember being sad that I wasn't able to open my eyes.  The last thing I remember before I woke up in recovery was the surgeon saying "I'm going to need some help stitching this up."  I thought, "I wonder if that's normal." 

I woke up, and was told that my uterus is very good at thinning during labor (I guess that's good) and as a result it had ruptured all the way down to the cervix (that's not so good).  Any future kids that I have will have to be delivered by C-section by the 37th week, since my uterus will not be able to handle labor.  After that, I went back to sleep.  I remember Nick showing me our little girl, and waking up to see the nurse showing Nick how to change a diaper.  That's about all of Sunday that I remember.

May 14th--Monday
I think that I remember two or three hours of Monday.  They had me get up and move around a bit (apparently surgery makes me gassy).  After they helped me sit up completely, I belched really loud.  It was very odd, because usually when you have a burp that loud, it doesn't sneak up on you.  Getting up was very difficult at first.  By the end of the day, if I gave myself enough time, I could get up without help.  But the coughing that came with the tale end of my cold didn't help my pain level any.  Nick and I chatted, and played with the baby for a while. 

May 15--Tuesday
I actually remember Tuesday.  In the morning, they gave me two more units of blood.  Wow, that really made a difference in my energy level.  I now was able to get out of bed without any help, although I didn't turn any down.  And I even took a shower.  (That was so over due!)  I walked around the circular hallway a few times in the afternoon (probably ten minutes total), and that totally drained me.  The doctor told me I could go home tomorrow, depending on how my hemoglobin levels were.  Mom and dad flew in that night, and Nick went to go pick them up.  I tried to stay awake long enough to see them (or at least Nick when he returned), but only made it until ten.

May 16--Wednesday (Going home day)
I was given the ok to go home.  My hemoglobin levels were low, but acceptable.  More importantly, by this time I was ready to be home.  Nick brought mom and dad to the hospital that morning, and we visited until lunch.  Mom and dad went to Wal-Mart (I think that they go through withdrawal if they don't visit one everyday) while Nick and I got ready to leave.  When they came back, we watched the nurse pantomime giving the baby a bath (very entertaining) and then we headed home.

Now we are all home, and I am being my usual stubborn self.  Recovery is slow, but going good.  And Nick has already made his first two mistakes as a dad.  Mistake 1: Thinking that since I didn't leave him alone with a newborn, I can get away with all kinds of crap.  And, mistake 2: Telling me so.

Love, in its many forms

So, as it boils down to the last month before baby makes her debut, I have started to wonder just how much time I have to get the stockroom ready for my absence. 

Naturally I've heard that first babies tend to be late.  And I have gestational diabetes, which carries a risk of pre-term labor ... but I wanted something a little more concrete to base an estimate on.  I called my mom.  She's had six babies, and I figured that would be a good place to start looking for some answers. 

Turns out, when she was working (outside of the home, I assume.  I've known my mom for a long time.  She's never idle.) her babies were two to three weeks early.  (Well, that would mean next week.  Not quite ready for that.)  When she was at home, they tended to be on time.  (I was born "on time ... to the day."  I was a first baby.  Hopefully this means I won't go past my due date.)

I told Nick all this, mostly because I thought it was cool that I was born on my actual due date.  His response was less than enthusiastic. 

"You kind of let the punctuality thing slip didn't you."

And then he wondered why it became his turn to make dinner.

The Baby Blues (or pinks in this case)

Dear Baby,

I want to thank you for introducing me to this whole new world of oddities.  After 30+ years, I finally know what the inside of my belly button looks like.  Surprisingly, it's kind of shiny.  I like shiny.  However, I could have gone without being introduced to the inside of my colon.  Some things in life are supposed to be a mystery.  Don't worry, you'll figure this out soon enough.

I had no clue that muscles could stretch far beyond their capacity to actually be functional.  But now that I've pulled a few, would you please stop kicking them?  I realize that they may be a bit swollen.  I also realize that there is not much variation in your current habitation.  I can also even understand the boredom you must be facing, that makes finding a bump (and knocking it around for a while) the highlight of your day.  At the very least, could you please alternate the bumps that you kick?

I am also glad that you've given up the extremely long game of 'bladder soccer' that you were playing.  However, if it would mean that I could go longer than two hours a night without having to pee, you would be more than welcome to advance to the finals.

We'll talk more later.

Your loving mother

PS:  I can't wait until you're born.  Because, when you're old enough, I am going to introduce you to the wonderful world of lemons .... and laugh my butt off at the face you pull.

IT'S A BOY!! -- maybe

According to the ancient Chinese fertility calendar, Nick will not have to deal with the 'girl drama' that he has been dreading! 

The site says that it is 95% accurate ... did they lie?  We'll see tomorrow.

UPDATE:  There's more than one reason why the ancient Chinese died off.