Sunday, December 9, 2012

Fist Love Number 2

I can rarely get a picture with C's fist not in her mouth. I was reminded of THIS post from her big brother when he was around 3 months. 

It's a bit frustrating but, after a while, I thought, "Eh, if you can't beat 'em, join 'em." C let me borrow her right one the other day to see what all the fuss was about. I still don't get it.

Friday, December 7, 2012

Whiskers and Coffee

The other day, E was doing something especially cute. This has been somewhat rare as of late because he's usually on the floor throwing a fit over something detrimental like if I gave him water instead of milk. Anyway, he was being sweet. I used to tell him all the time, "Don't grow up, K?" to which he'd reply, "OK, Mommy" and crawl into my lap. I cherish these moments, ball them up, and put them in my pocket to pull out and remember when he's having a milk/water moment. Anyway, back to the other day...I asked him, "Don't ever grow up, K?" to which he quickly replied, "Yes, Mommy. I'm gonna grow up so that I can have whiskers and coffee like Daddy." Out of all the "perks" (get it??) of being older, his 3 year old brain thinks only of "whiskers and coffee." It's the simple things, folks.

Tuesday, November 20, 2012


I asked my boy to go to the office and get Mommy the calculator. I gave him detailed instructions, “If you’re looking at the computer, it’s in the drawer on your left on the top. It’s a blue and white calculator.” We’re working on directions so I figured, what the heck. We’ll see what he comes back with. There’s nothing in there that’ll kill him. Oh wait. Did I leave the shredder plugged up? I’ll just listen carefully. Well, about 3 minutes goes by and no Ev. I was heading towards the office when, from the hallway runs E….no calculator…and no undies. What? “Ummm, E, you’re not wearing underwear.” And then the monologue began, “You see, Mommy, I pee peed just a widdle bit in my undies so I took them off, rinsed them in my sink, finished pee peeing in the potty, washed my hands, and now I need help putting my dirty undies in the washing machine.” I just stared at him. We are now working on separating and washing clothes and cooking us Beef  Bourguignon. He’s nailing this independent thing.

Monday, November 19, 2012

Case Study Addendum

Boy that title's really going to reel in my readers...
It was brought to my attention that it looks as if when I mentioned, "I stopped counting around 1700" sounds like he asked 1700 questions. He did not, in fact, ask 1700. He asked 290. I just stopped counting around 5pm which, in military time (aka the only way a nurse thinks), is 1700. Thus, that was the time, not question count. Let me assure you, by 5pm, it sure felt like I'd been asked 1700 though.

Another addendum topic is...
How exactly do you even answer questions such as, "What flavor is our sun roof?" or this nugget that I get rather often, "What's my birthday's last name?"

Friday, November 16, 2012

3 year old: A Case Study

The other night, as I laid down, I felt as if I had been assaulted. Not physically, per se, but certainly mentally. Our child constantly barrages me with question after question. The 3 year-old not the 3 month-old (yet.) I realize this is totally normal. I do. However, it is also absolutely exhausting. I try to answer each question, helping him figure out the world in a realistic way. I realize maybe he won't understand my answer when he asks, "Why do you take that medicine all the time." (Disclaimer: He says, "all the time" for any length of time. Be it every hour, every day, or even once a year. Everything is "all the time". Just so you don't think I'm overdosing.) Anyway, when I tell him that, in fact, I take my Synthroid once daily, in the morning, on an empty stomach because, when pregnant with him, they discovered my thyroid didn't work and then, after he was born, they had to go in and do a total thyroidectomy because my biopsies revealed pre-cancerous signs and so now I make no thyroid hormone which controls your metabolism, energy, and a little bit of everything else. He usually just stares at me. However, the next day, he'll say something like, "Did you take your energy medicine." I consider it a success. Sooooo, back to my case study.
I decided to count how many questions I receive daily. I picked a Wednesday because he doesn't have school that day so I would be around him most of the day. I began counting as soon as he woke (at 0545) and in two short hours, the number was quite astonishing. I didn't count repeat questions, "Mommy, where are we going?" "The grocery, E." "Mommy, where are we going?" "I told you, E, the grocery." I counted that only as one though, it was noted that he repeats ALOT. I also only counted "inquiring" questions. I didn't count, "Mommy, could we go build a tower?" or "Mommy, could we eat macaroni and cheese for lunch?" I also missed one hour when he was at the gym nursery. I considered asking Ms. Cindy (the teacher in the nursery) to count but figure she already thinks I'm a bit off my rocker anyway so didn't want to push it. I also had a two hour break when he napped. I stopped counting around 1700 because I was simply tired of thinking. Thus, it was a total of about 8 hours.
I know you're on the edge of your seat so, without further ado, here were my discoveries:
A)The questions usually come in clusters, "machine gun questions", if you will. If he's going to ask one, twenty more are waiting in the wings.
B)It is hard to grocery shop with two kids and remember to count questions.
C)He asks some gooood questions. I mean, why can't we eat cupcakes for breakfast all the time?
D)He asked me 290 questions. That is 36 1/4 an hour, more than every other minute. That, my friends, is "all the time."

Wednesday, November 14, 2012

Captain Obvious

"WARNING: Do not tie the pacifier around child's neck as it presents a strangulation danger."
Soooo glad I noticed this on C's paci holder. I was just about to do that.

Tuesday, November 13, 2012

All about the 3's

E turned 3 last week.
He is 3 ft. 3 inches tall.
He weighs 33 pounds.
No joke.
He had 3 total meltdowns over absolutely nothing.
Momma had 3 big ole glasses of wine.

He is a tad obsessed with monsters these days. Here's a few pics of his monster bash:

Friday, October 26, 2012

Granny Sara

Lest you think shingles only affects older folks, I have a brutal case. My doc said, "You know, they make a shingles vaccine?" I just stared at him. I'm 33 friggin years old. Wanna sign me up for AARP too? Shall I go ahead and schedule my colonoscopy? Hang on, I can't hear you, I must turn up my hearing aid. Whoops, let me move my life alert bracelet so that I can check the time. Yep, looks like it's time to take my water pill and go have a cup of coffee before bed. In all seriousness... this shingles stuff hurts. Daggum.

Monday, October 22, 2012

Pee, poo, and boogers (What is it with my titles lately?)

If you are single and think you want children, stop reading riiiiight NOW. If you are contemplating children, discretion is advised. If you are pregnant, you should have stopped about twelve words ago. You're emotional anyway, you cute little roley thing. Go eat some ice cream. Now. Stop reading. If you have children, forge ahead and commiserate with me...
I worked this weekend and the kiddos were with grandparents and the hubs. I love that they get special care with those that aren't constantly with them, not to mention, it makes leaving them so much easier. Anyway, I'm not sure what happened with our eldest child this weekend but we went about 344 steps backwards in potty training. He hadn't had an accident in about two weeks. We were well on our way to a diaper-free life (with him) and I was relishing that! Weeeeellllllll, I'm now off for 8 and woke this morning ready to take on the day. Within 20 minutes of taking off his nighttime diaper and putting on undies, he had an "ak-i-dent" of the pee variety. Whatev, I thought, wiped the "pieces" (seriously, that's what he calls it), and put on a fresh pair of undies. By the time I left for the gym around 10, he had had three accidents. What the??? Luckily, I was doing laundry. I headed on to the gym, let him pee in the "mini potty" at the gym nursery, then worked out for a bit over an hour. When I went to pick them up, sweet Mrs. Cindy, our beloved nursery lady, looked totally frazzled. We love that lady and, typically, my kiddos are the only ones there so she's quite fond of them. C was screaming and E was minding his own business building a tower. She informed me that C must have a tummy ache because she'd pooped all over her clothes, the car seat, etc. She had tried everything to make her stop crying but to no avail. C had already been changed and her dirty clothes were already rinsed and in a plastic bag. I covered her nasty seat up with a bib and loaded her up, apologizing to Mrs. Cindy as I worked. I took E back to the bathroom to go before we left and....seriously??? He had had another accident. "Hello, Sara. You have just arrived in children's excretion hell. Take a seat and get comfy." I had not packed another pair of pants but, luckily, had a Pull-up. E walked out of the gym with a Pull-up and no pants. C was hauled out in a poop-covered car seat. I'm expecting my phone to ring annnnny minute to notify me of my Mother of the Year nomination. Anyway, I get in the car and what is the first song that starts?? Darius Rucker's "It Won't Be Like This For Long." I almost shed a tear. Thanks, God, I def needed that. When I think of this song, I remember hearing it when E was 4 days old and we were headed back to the hospital to check his bilirubin level. I vividly remember being in the back seat with my newborn (because with that first baby, you just can't imagine EVER sitting in the front seat, a HUGE 2 extra feet away) and wiping the tears from behind my sunglasses. Now, all I could do was just laugh because isn't that the truth? It won't be like this for long. Then, to snap me out of my revery, E piped up from the backseat, "Here you go, Mom, here's a booger." All I could think (after I took and disposed of said booger) was, "Yay! He's not eating them anymore." It won't be like this for long, eh? Will someone give me a guarantee on that?

Friday, October 12, 2012

Sibling love and Pooting

 Yes, I'm fully aware that the dreaded day is coming--the one where C starts taking E's trains, biting, and drooling on them. I know they won't always adore each other as much as they do now. But for now, let me appreciate this. He is so crazy about her. SO FAR, he hasn't shown one shred of jealousy. He's always wanting to hug, hold, "burp", and cuddle with her. He's even questioned if he can use my breast pump"horns" to "pump up his Googoos" so that he can feed her too. Don't ask.

He's constantly requesting the I prop her up so that they can "hang out and watch Wittle Einstein's".

She adores him and is constantly smiling in his direction. Nobody can make that girl smile faster than her big brother.
Yep, these two are quite a pair....until this.
E: Mom, set her beside me and take our picture.
Me: Okay, E, I'll send Daddy a pick-me-up at work!
(rumbling tummy sounds followed by an obvious expulsion of processed milk from baby sister right as the camera snapped.)
E: Mom, I don't want to take a picture with her anymore. You can have her.
I mean his face is the look of total submission.

Speaking of pooting, here's a typical convo with this observant almost 3 year old (strangest lead into a story ever):
Scene--driving down the interstate behind a garbage truck.
E: Ewww, Mom, something stinks. Did you poot or did C poot or did I poot?
Me: You pooted, E.
E: (Laughing hysterically--because poots are the funniest, right? RIGHT?) No, I didn't!
Me: No, I think it's actually that garbage truck.
E: (getting very serious) Mom, trucks don't poot.

Friday, October 5, 2012

Miss America

 One of my best friends is Honey-moonin' it up in Ireland.

My other bestie is boozin' it up at Oktoberfest in Germany.
This week, this girl is praying for some serious world peace.Be safe and have fun, my girls. I'm trying not to think of the movie "Taken."

Tuesday, September 18, 2012


Last night, while watching the Falcons on MNF, Hom and I got to thinking...How could one have such white hair and such black eyebrows?

Sunday, September 16, 2012

Life ain't always rainbows and cotton candy

Here's a Keeping it Real moment. I keep a journal for my son to read one day (who am I kidding? I'll be happy if his wife even reads it.)

2 years, 10 months, 9 days                                                                                                                     9-16-12
My son. Some moments you make me beam with pride, astounded at how much your little sponge brain absorbs. Some moments you make me absolutely crazy, not seeming to listen to a single thing I say. Yesterday was the typical mix of the two. Some phrases you would’ve heard me say were, “Don’t stand on the couch!”, “Why is there pee on your shirt?”, “Don’t touch your penis and then go touch your sister.”, “Get your foot out of your cup!”, “Why is there blue crayon on your teeth?” You get the idea. I do NOT understand most of your little boy antics but I have to remind myself that they are a result of your mind figuring out this complex world of weird smells, textures, emotions, etc. You’re doing great, big boy, even if it seems I’m always lecturing you. Last night was one of those wonderful never-want-to-forget memories that I had to include in your journal. One of those fleeting, please, God, don’t let me forget a thing about this moment. We were in your sister’s nursery around 8 pm. The room was dim, lit by one lamp. I was attempting to nurse your sister. 

As you will realize, I nursed you without a single problem for your first full year. You had not a sip of formula. I will do this for your sister too. During my pregnancy, my determination to repeat this was clouded with doubt. How could I possibly have another child with no “latch” issues, the same enthusiasm for nursing, etc? I just didn’t think it was possible to have two years worth of easy, painless, blissful nursing experiences. Lightening surely wouldn’t strike twice. However, she was born and we have had, virtually, no problems. One “issue” we’ve had that I cannot solve though is your sister’s CONSTANT motion. Even while nursing, I feel like I’m wrestling a cat on speed. I feel like I’m chasing her around with my boob like a crazy person. Usually she’s oblivious and gets her nourishment regardless of the fact that, when finished, I’m sweating, my ponytail is sideways, shirt is backwards, and left eye has developed a twitch. It seems to bother only me. 

Well, last night, something was bothering her. I was, as usual, chasing her around but she was screaming. She would latch on, suck for 3 seconds, let go, scream, and then root around to latch on again. Rinse and repeat for 30 minutes. I had tried the “low stimulation environment” (aforementioned dim nursery) despite wanting to watch my football. I had even tried unbuttoning her gown and placing her skin-to-skin. I had tried Mylicon and burping her about a million times. Nothing. was. working. You walked in and caught me crying along with your sister. I so rarely get frustrated breastfeeding as I have the confidence of your year under my belt. Perhaps, though, it was the fact that, when I woke with her 4 am feeding that morning, your Daddy and I chatted easily until you woke up. Those are some of my favorite moments of the day and “just us” moments that we so rarely get. However, now we were both going on about 5 hours of interrupted sleep. Not a good combination. Anyway, you looked at me with a shocked expression. I so rarely cry and you didn’t know what to think about this change in roles. You patted me on the back and asked what was wrong. I told you, “I’m just frustrated because your sister doesn’t feel good and I can’t fix it. It makes me sad when I can’t make you guys feel good.” You nodded your head, so wise beyond your two and five-sixth years. About that time, your Daddy brought in 3 ounces of my previously pumped liquid gold. “This will give you both a break. We have plenty,” your Daddy said. I took it, put it in your sister’s mouth, and she began greedily sucking it down. You asked to help and held her bottle for about ten seconds. “Here, Mommy, you can feed her. It is frustrating feeding her.” (Though she was doing nothing but eating at this point.) You started rocking on her rocking horse (yeah, the one that’s actually yours but you don’t have space in your room for it.) You looked over, rocking gently, and said, “You’re strong, Momma. I know you can do it.” I couldn’t do anything but laugh (and ask you if you were going to be a motivational speaker when you grew up.) You wanted to know, “What’s so funny?” I took a deep breath, looked at my two healthy kids, and smiled. Perhaps I would, in fact, survive another day of raising an infant and toddler. Thank you, my boy. Now, go get your helmet out of the toilet.

Tuesday, September 11, 2012

Baby Weight

So, Baby Girl is 7 weeks old and I'm back to my pre-pregnancy weight. A little running and a LOT of breastfeeding. 20 calories/ounce! Holla! Anyway, that's good and all, right? Well, I've got a problem. Something has happened to my body. I fit in exactly one pair of jeans from pre-pregnancy. Any other moms out there with this problem? I'm trying to lose just a few more pounds (to be below pre-pregnancy weight) in hopes of squeezing into my skinny jeans but I'm starting to think it's futile. I'm refusing to wear maternity jeans so my one pair is wearing out fast. I'm up for ANY advice, even if it's just to inform me that it will take a while longer. Just tell me that I won't have these "child bearing hips" the rest of my life. If that's your advice, than I advise you to zip it. I'm still hormonal, after all.

Monday, September 10, 2012


1. The temperature has dropped a bit, football has begun (Thank you, Lord!), and leaves are slowly starting to change. To me that means one thing---it's time for candy corn.
2. Ev remains a work in progress with potty training. He has about 1 accident every other day but hasn't pooped his pants in many, many months. He won't even poop in his diaper if he's wearing one after nap/when he wakes in morning. The other day, I picked him up from preschool and his "dirty Ziploc" was filled with the clothes I sent him in. On the bag were just a couple simple, disgusting words: "Undies had to be thrown away." Bless them. Whatever it is, I feel certain these teachers don't make enough.
3. I was recently given a Baby Bjorn from a friend. I never wanted one when I just had one child but now that I have two kiddos, I wish I had a few more arms. With the BB, at least I have two to work with. That'll have to do. Who says "Sister Wives" is so bad?!
4. Is it just me or is there a baby boom right now? Where I work, there were 11 of us pregnant at one time. In my cul-de-sac, there will be 6 babies born in 8 months, 4 within one month (and that's only between 7 houses). We are a fertile bunch, I tell ya.
5. I have been okay sleep-wise up until this point even though baby girl wakes at least once every night to nurse. However, my doc just went way down on my Synthroid dose since I don't need as much as I did when I was pregnant. Thyroid hormone is responsible for metabolism, energy levels, etc. I have a feeling I'm about to hit a wall.
6. My mother-in-law rocks. Like, seriously, rocks. That might be another blog post in itself.
7. The other day, C was crying on our bed. Ev climbed right up there, started rubbing her head, and said, "Don't cry. I'm Everett, your big brother. We're best friends. There's nothing to be afraid of...Daddy killed all the monsters." As it turns out, Homet Man is a hero to more than just this exhausted Momma.
8. The other day, I sent Hom to the grocery with a list. Among other things, it said:
-- Bananas
(To me, this indicated that he should get grapes and bananas, then chose one or two of the others.) He got every single item in the "/" line. So what do you do when your husband hands you lemons, or in this case, 7 different fruits? You make Fruit Face for your 2 year old. I felt like such a kindergarten teacher.

9. Baby Girl spit up three days in a row right into my belly button...and I had a shirt on. I didn't know whether to be grossed out or down right proud of her aim.
10. My Mom is a quilter. Like could-quilt-24/7-with-only-a-Diet-Coke-break-and-no-sleep quiler. She has a church quilting group every Monday, takes what seems like at least a class/week at her local Bernina, and actually goes to quilting retreats. That's right. Quilting retreats. Who knew they had those?!?! And I promised her I wouldn't talk about her latest sewing machine purchase but lets just say you could buy a small car for the price (and it's her fifth machine.) I told Homet the other day that I guess there are worse things she could be addicted to and he stated, "Yeah, like crack." Alrighty then.

Monday, August 27, 2012


Working in the Pediatric ICU, I have seen many things…some really, really good and some nightmarish. Because of the things I have witnessed, I have a very warped view of what’s safe for kids. My poor boy has to wear a helmet to ride his tricycle…in our driveway…in the cul-de-sac we live in…where no more than 10 cars drive in in a day. He’s not even allowed in our street unless I’m two feet away. I’m constantly in fear that, when he goes into our backyard, he will run straight to the lake and drown…with me standing there. I’ve considered making him wear his life jacket just to play in the backyard. Yes, don’t ask, we’re saving for a fence. I’m still checking my one-month olds belly button to make sure she hasn’t suddenly developed omphalitis, an infection of the umbilical cord. Yeah, the same umbilical cord she lost three weeks ago. Seriously. I’ve seen it and it ain’t pretty. The infection, that is, not her belly button. I’m guilty of googling “flesh eating rash” in regards to her baby acne. Don’t even get me started on their safety if they walk within a 100 foot radius of a golf cart or 4-wheeler.
Another scary, hot button for me is co-sleeping. In my ten year career, I would estimate that about every 6-8 months an infant comes in, a victim of co-sleeping. I’ve only seen a few survive and they have all been in vegetative states when they left the hospital. It is horribly tragic and unfair. The parents are usually awesome parents that just didn’t realize how dangerous it could be.  I am not writing this to judge anyone whose kid sleeps with them, but it’s not for us. I understand the bonding involved and I love to snuggle my babies as much as the next guy. However, I am deathly afraid of falling asleep with my baby in the bed. We have a co-sleeper, which I used with E if I didn’t want him out of my sight (after his shots, if he was sick, etc.) I loved that thing. 
We haven’t used it with C yet. Anyway, the result of a sleep-deprived Momma, breastfeeding at 0300, with a deathly fear of falling asleep with a baby beside me results in a crazy sleep deprived, breastfeeding Momma. With both kiddos, I have routinely woken Hom up, grabbing his arm, and panickingly asking, “Why is he/she in bed with us?!?!” He, then, grabs his arm back and states, “Sara, that’s my arm not the baby. He/she’s over in his/her pack-n-play.” At this point, I notice the little snuggled up bundle safely beside me in his/her pack-n-play snoozing away. It’s beyond frustrating for both of us. As if waking up throughout the night to feed her isn’t enough, I also have to wake up to “save her.” Any other Mom’s out there have any fun neuroses they’d like to divulge?

Thursday, August 16, 2012

Do you mind if I vent?

If you mind, stop reading because I'm about to... I cannot stand when people use the handicap restroom and don't need to. I don't mean that it's the only stall left and you use it. I'm talking about all stalls open, it's just you and your digestive/urinary expulsion needs, etc. I mean, what are people thinking they're going to do in there? Yoga? The last two days, I have ventured out with both kids to do some shopping. Both days, my boy has needed to use the restroom. Good boy. I go in the bathroom and the only stall filled is the handicap one. With one able bodied person. One of the times, we just waited it out. Today, though, I thought he was going to have an accident so I had to put our shopping bags/diaper bag on the ground, put Baby sister's carrier on the ground by the sinks, and I had to help him pee with the door open while trying to keep an eye out making sure nobody was going to make off with my baby girl. There just isn't enough room even if I held her and him! I adore those places with family restrooms because nobody bats an eye when Hom is able to go in there, change that baby poopy with me, and make sure E isn't licking on the trashcan. This two kid thing is totally a man-on-man job. 

Sunday, August 12, 2012

Getting big and Getting loved

 Well, we're getting settled in as a party of four. Chaney had her 2 week check-up with our beloved Dr. Joe and she has gained 1 pound, 4 ounces in 12 days since we've gotten home from the hospital! Weight is 75%, height 90%, and head 50%. I'll take it. She is actually a good sleeper and usually starts the night with a 5 hour stretch. Far better than anything E did until he was several months old. She's an awesome eater, rarely cries, and doesn't even wake up when her 2 3/4 year old brother is acting like a...well, 2 3/4 year old. In regards to him, he is CRAZY about her. I was skeptical on how he'd act once she got here. He loved to talk to, kiss, hug, and even give flowers to baby sister when she was in my belly but I didn't think that would translate to the real person she would eventually become. I was proven wrong. While he acts like a little booger at times, he has never taken it out on her. He will be screaming like a crazy person to us and then come over to her and start talking in this little sweet high-pitched voice. "You okay Chaney Claire? Big brother's here. Everything's okay." It's about the sweetest thing you've ever seen. As far as holding her, Lord help us. The boy LOVES to hold her, but only in 20 second intervals. He constantly wants to hold her, we get him set up, then he decides she's "too heavy", "too squirmy" (I would have to agree here), "too cry-ey", etc. Every now and then, though, he'll hold her long enough for me to sneak a quick picture. Check this out...

Thursday, August 2, 2012

Chaney Claire's Birthday Story

Intense. That is the best way I can describe your birthday, Chaney Claire. It all started around 5:30 when I woke up for work. I was exactly 39 weeks pregnant. I was to work three 12-hour shifts in a row and was slightly dreading it. I hadn’t worked 3 in a row in several weeks and certainly not since my two weeks of bed rest. I wondered how in the world I was going to avoid going into labor for three days based on how hard we work, how long we are on our feet, how few breaks we get, etc. However, since bed rest, my co-workers had been awesome in attempting to give me a lighter assignment. I showered and lathered my cocoa butter on my belly thinking how little time we had left together. I also remember looking in the mirror at a bunch of different angles of my belly, shocked at how big it looked. I ate a quick breakfast of corn flakes and a banana and was treated to Wade actually waking up to visit with me during breakfast. He usually sleeps straight through me getting up and out the door. I left for work around 6:20 and talked to Mom on the phone on the way. She inquired about my contractions and I assured her that they were still coming but continued to not be consistent. We hung up and I headed into work.
            My patient assignment was quite busy and I was told that one of my patient’s was headed to surgery by 1000 and the other was likely to need surgery that day as well. Awesome. I sent my first patient off to surgery and ran around trying to get caught up on the other one before she left for the OR. Soon after I readmitted my first patient, around 1130 or so, I started having pretty strong contractions while I was trying to chart. I would just breathe through them but it seemed they were slightly more intense than the ones I’d had in previous weeks. I was fine between them and they didn’t seem consistent so I continued to work, give meds, assess my kiddos, chart, etc. Every so often, I had to stop what I was doing to have a contraction. Soon, my neighbor, Candise, who was helping me, took notice. “Are you having contractions???” she asked during one rather painful one. “Yeah, but just let me finish it. I’ll be fine,” I replied. She seemed a little skeptical. It was decided around 1230 that maybe I should go sit down and eat lunch, take a break, and just make sure this wasn’t real. At lunch, we laughed about how we’d had two previous co-workers go into labor at work. I joked that I wanted to do that because I didn’t want to waste one second more of maternity leave on the couch. I wanted the max amount of time with my baby even if it meant working until I pushed her out (be careful what you wish for!) I think I freaked out my lunch buddies because I had a few pretty hard contractions during lunch that I had to breath through. However, as soon as they were done, I was fine and back to chitchatting. At some point, two of our docs came in and my co-workers jokingly asked them if they remembered how to deliver babies. Both stated that they probably remembered how but would prefer not to have to use those skills today. Lindsay, who was (thank God) working that day, came in to check on me because someone told her I was in labor. I laughed it off but was soon met with another contraction. I had to stop eating my Fudge Round to breath through it. She laughed at me because, as soon as the contraction was over, I finished that bad boy up. At some point, someone asked me what Wade was doing. I remembered that I hadn’t actually told him yet because, again, I didn’t think I was in “real labor.” I didn’t want to be that girl that went to OB Receiving only for the contractions to go away like they had been for the past few days. I decided to go on and text Wade. Here was our convo:

June 24, 1247
Me: Having bad contractions. Considering going downstairs soon. Maybe 5-10 minutes apart. Keep forgetting to time them.
Him: Time them and let me know. I’m sitting on pins and needles.
Me: Been 4 min since one now.
Him: Let me know the next one.
Me: Just had one. 5 min apart for maybe thirty min.
Him: You hurting?
Me: Bad.
Him: You should go downstairs.

I decided that maybe he was right and went out to inform the charge nurse. I needed to finish up my 1200 assessment stuff and give a few meds before I left though. I considered staying and trying to finish up the day anyway (after all, I was already halfway finished with my day) but everytime I attempted to do something, I was quickly stopped by another contraction. I couldn’t seem to get any work done anyway so I decided I might as well go on and get checked out so that my mind would be at ease. Worse case scenario, I would get down there, not be in labor, and head on back to work. I went ahead and got charted up, made sure the kiddos were getting their 1300 and 1400 meds (thanks, Candise!) and grabbed my bag. I, then, remembered I hadn’t brushed my teeth after lunch and opted to go do that. I don’t know why that felt important but I do remember that my teeth felt nasty. By this point, I had quite a crowd around timing my contractions. I went to let Lindsay know that I was, indeed, going downstairs. I clocked out at 1311.
            My friend, Courtney, was assigned to walk me down there and carry my bags. I made a little fuss and assured them that I was not an invalid. I agreed to let her “walk me down” but I refused a wheelchair. We got just outside the unit and I was hit with another contraction. I was in the hall and right in front of my OB’s husband (a pediatric neurosurgeon.) He looked a little freaked out and asked, “Is she okay?” Courtney grinned and said, “She’s in labor!” I finished the contraction and walked a few more feet before being met with one of my sweet patient’s moms. She was telling me the updates on him and all I could think about was, “How can I nicely get away from her?!” I think she sensed my urgency and, thankfully, stopped talking. We headed down to OB receiving and signed in. The nurse took my vitals and we went through some insurance questions between my contractions. I was still not sure it was real and informed the nurse that I didn’t want any pitocin. I asked about what the criteria would be for keeping me there if I wasn’t in active labor. She said, “Well, if you are 4 cm or greater, that’s considered active labor and they will want to keep you.” “Umm, I was 4 cm in clinic yesterday,” I told her. “Oh, well, they’ll probably want to keep you.” By 1345, Wade had arrived and relieved Courtney. I was taken back to a holding room to await a doctor’s check. We called Mom and informed her what was going on. By happenstance, she was actually at UMC at a focus group, so she finished that up and headed down. The doctor came in and asked about my being 4 cm in clinic yesterday. “Why weren’t you admitted then?” she asked. “Well, because I don’t want to be induced, I’m 39 weeks, I needed to work today, and my contractions weren’t consistent.” She also asked if I was interested in an epidural and I told her that I was not interested in an epidural, Pitocin, her breaking my water, or anything else. She nodded her head like I was crazy and informed me that she was going to go ahead and check me to see if we’d made any progress. She told us that I was now 6 cm, 80% effaced, and that my “bag of fluid was bulging and would likely rupture soon.” I looked at Wade and Mom and was shocked to finally realize that maybe we were having a baby today. I texted Lindsay and a few co-workers to let them know that I would not be coming back to work after all. 
Still in my scrubs but I guess this is real!

The doctors and nurses scurried around to try and get me admitted to the labor and delivery floor. By about 2:15, I was allowed to walk up to L & D, though an actual L & D delivery room wasn’t available yet. I, again, refused a wheelchair because I didn’t want people gawking at me (though I’m not sure how “normal” I looked in two hospital gowns and tennis shoes, stopping every 4 minutes to have a contraction.) I joked with the nurse that I was terrified that my water was going to break enroute. I asked her what we would do if that happened, “I mean, what? Do you call the housekeeper and say ‘Clean up Aisle 4’?” She laughed and said, “I’m sure they’ve had to do it before.” We made it up to a regular room on the L & D floor and three nurses came in to ask me questions, start my IV, and draw lab work. I reiterated that I wasn’t much interested in an epidural, Pit, etc. and, as another contraction came and they stood over me, I said, “I know, I’m crazy.” She asked if I minded an IV. I told her that I definitely wanted an IV. I’ve been in bad situations at work where we didn’t have an IV and it is not good. She gave me the option of not having IV fluids and I did take her up on that. I was having to stand up beside the bed or sit on the side of the bed, with Wade pushing on my back, to get through the contractions so I thought the tubing would get tangled anyway. 
I was about 8-9 cm here. Sweet hubs.

I started to feel like things were progressing quickly and panicked that my dad hadn’t arrived with our camera. We snapped a few shots with our phones just in case. After about 20 minutes, Dad arrived with our bags from home and settled in the waiting room. I was contracting every 3-5 minutes consistently at this point and really starting to hurt badly. I did not remember it hurting this much with Ev so I guess you truly do forget. By about 3:30, they told me Dr. Shiflett had just delivered one of her patients down the hall and would be in my room soon. She came in and I asked her what the plan was. She stated that she would check me, head back to finish up at clinic, then come straight back to deliver me. I asked her when she planned on checking me and she said, “Right now.” “Oh, hang on, I feel really nauseous.” I assumed it was because I had just eaten lunch but in hindsight, I assume it was because I flew through transition labor. They pushed some Zofran, waited for another contraction to pass, and Dr. Shiflett began checking me.
Here’s what I remember from our exchange:
She, quickly, looked up and said, “You’re complete!”
“Complete what?” I asked nervously.
 “You’re 10 cm. You’re having a baby soon.”
“I guess that means that, if I changed my mind, it’s too late for an epidural?”
”Uh, yeah, Sara. You’re having a baby SOON.”
“How effaced am I?”
”Sara, there is NO cervix left. I’m about to break your water and we’re having a baby.”
“Dr. Shiflett, we agreed you wouldn’t break my water!”
”Sara, you. are. about. to. have. a. baby. In minutes. I’m breaking your water.”
All the sudden, I flashed back to Ev’s birth and pushing for 3 ½ hours. I totally freaked out.
“Dr. Shiflett, I can’t push. I don’t want to push. I’m scared.”
“You’re doing fine. She’ll be here before you know it.”
”I can’t push for 3 hours this time. I’m too tired and hurting too much. I don’t think I could push for 3 minutes!”
“Sara, I don’t think you will push for 3 minutes if you try! Are you ready to push?”

I refused and said that I wanted to labor down for a bit longer. She agreed and said she was going to step out to give me some time until I was ready. She assured me she was right outside the door and, if I felt the need to push, needed to tell someone. My sister, Mom, and Wade were holding my hands and talking me through each contraction. Lindsay was on my right and Mom and Wade on my left. I felt another contraction coming and, while I did NOT want to push, all of the sudden my body had other plans. I found myself pushing anyway. It was so bizarre. Mom told Lindsay to go get Shiflett and I told her not to. Poor Lindsay was going back and forth “Don’t go get her!” “Go get her!” “Don’t go get her!” “Go get her!” I was scared she was going to make me push. Dr. Shiflett and the nurses came in about that time and everyone was scurrying around. I looked around and thought, “Where are they going to put the baby?” About then I heard Dr. Shiflett asking what the status was on the real L & D room. I remembered I was in (what I’m assuming) was a regular antepartum room. I was on a regular hospital bed, no stirrups, no crib in the room, no overhead lights, etc. They said it was being cleaned right then. Within a couple minutes of more scurrying, it was about 1550, they said the room was ready. I was pushing (against my will) at this point when I was run down the hall into a regular delivery room. I was, then, told that I needed to scoot over to the labor bed. It looked miles away. Between my contractions/pushing I scooted over, got set for the next contraction and pushed about three good times. 
Almost there.

The excitement was palpable. They told me I was really pushing good. I felt so exhausted but, unlike with Everett’s delivery, I did feel like I was accomplishing something when I was pushing. She, somehow, gave me one final kick to my right rib, almost a farewell kick as that’s where she kicked me ever since I could feel her moving. I told them, “I can’t push anymore. It hurts too bad.” I, then, heard her heart rate monitor dropping and the nurses shared “that glance.” Dr. Shiflett said, “Sara, look at me! We HAVE to have this baby NOW. Next contraction, you’ve got it. We’re putting some oxygen on you.” “Oh God!” I prayed I would have it in me. Within 10 more seconds, not long enough to even get the oxygen and with one final big push, out she came at 1606. (Exactly two hours and 55 minutes from when I clocked out at work.) She had a nuchal cord times one, tightly around her neck, which was the reason for the decels. I looked over at Lindsay, who was sobbing and said simply, “It’s over. I did it.” 
Relief and pure joy.

Cutting the cord.
Wade was able to cut the cord and she screamed from delivery until about 20 minutes later. Her cheeks had a slightly blue tint from the cord (I would later learn her Apgars were 9 at 1 min and 9 at 5 minutes, she lacked the one because of her color.) She also had petechiae on her forehead from the brief lack of oxygen. It was all a blur after that as I waited for Dr. Shiflett to finish up. I watched, in amazement, as my sister, husband, and Mom crowded around our new daughter and I. She was 7 lbs. 9 oz and 21 1/2 inches of pure perfection. 

The only family that made it in time was Dad and my friend, Mollie. So unlike the 15-20 people in the waiting room for Everett's ten hour labor! After delivery, she nursed with ease (that always amazes me.) They took her to transition to get the full assessment, shots, etc. while I greeted our arriving family. By 1645, I got up out of bed, put my tennis shoes back on, and walked up to the postpartum floor, again refusing the wheelchair. What a ho-hum morning that turned into one of the most magical afternoons of my life. Intense, I tell you, Baby Girl. I hope this isn’t a sign of things to come!
Our girl!

Monday, July 16, 2012

Stocking up!

Well, our girl is still holding out on us. I am 38 weeks and remain 3 cm dilated. I work tomorrow and the next day and I'm saying a little prayer that these strenuous 12 hour shifts will kick something into gear. However, I also am trying to appreciate the last couple weeks of (quite possibly) my last pregnancy ever. It hasn't been too bad and I keep having to remind myself that this is 100% guaranteed to end within the next few weeks. Patience is a virtue! That being said, I have gotten a chance to finalize my playlist, buy a few last odds and ends that we needed, have lots of "The Final Adventures of an Only Child" with Ev, and cook, cook, cook. Hom and I cooked for about 6 hours this weekend in an attempt to stock up our freezer meals. Here's a before shot of most of the ingredients...

And here's after...
We made:
Broccoli/Cheese Soup (2 servings)
Chicken/Rice Soup (2 servings)
Penne Chicken Pasta with Sun Dried Tomatoes and Mushrooms (3 servings)
Spaghetti (2 servings)
Honey Sesame Chicken (1 serving)
Loaded Potato Soup (3 servings)
Beef Enchiladas (1 serving)
Boston Butt/Pulled Pork (3 servings)
Chili (2 servings)
Crawfish Cornbread (2 servings)
and Mom threw in a Rotel Chicken Spaghetti (2 servings)
All that, along with a friend and I had a baking day last week, and were able to make Cinnamon Rolls for everyone on my street, along with 2 servings for us to freeze!!
I'm thinking we're in good shape for a little bit.
Here's my 37 week shot. Getting rather large, eh?
I do my fingers to signify the weeks if I can. That way, when I scrapbook, I don't have to remember which week it was. Ev saw me making what I can only assume he thinks is a gang sign. He wanted to join in... Word.
 And, yes, that's a sticker on his ear. I'm not real sure what that was about but he wore it like that for a long time and wouldn't let me take it off.

Thursday, July 5, 2012

Still cooking

Well, things have been a little crazy lately in the Watts home. At my routine 35 week appointment (I was actually 34 weeks, 6 days), I mentioned to the nurse that I had been contracting during the weekend. I assumed it was just Braxton Hicks. However, I figured it best to inform them as, with Ev, when I started contracting, he came quickly. Doc decided to go ahead and check me just to make sure. We were met with the news that I was already 3 cm and 50% effaced. WHAT? Guess they weren't Braxton Hicks. Anyway, she informed me that, for the next two weeks, I wasn't allowed to work, work out, or even lift Ev. Awesome. I didn't think it necessary to tell her that, just prior to my appointment, I had walked 2 1/2 miles in the 90 degree weather. In hindsight, not the smartest decision I've ever made. Anyway, so bed rest it is in order to get this girl to a safer 37 weeks. If, by Tuesday, I haven't gone into labor, then I'm going back to work! I will likely regret saying this, but I am SO ready to go back to work and work out again. As of my last appointment (a week later), I was still 3 cm, 50% so I feel like I did good. I despise sitting still but don't need to be reminded that it is for the health of my wee one. It's far easier said than done. Anyway, instead of baking this girl, we have set this oven on broil, knowing that she could come any minute now. Any good book suggestions? I like mystery and chick lit but I've read enough mystery lately. Trying to find a fun chick lit book. Four more days of being lazy stretches endlessly in front of me. Any suggestions?

Monday, June 11, 2012

Baby girl and Big Boy

Well, the nursery is coming along. We've gotten all the essentials and, considering she won't sleep in there for the first couple months anyway, I'd say it'll do. We have been super busy this summer with a certain wild 2 1/2 year old. This pregnancy is SO incredibly different than his. With him, I was able to work out when, how long, however I wanted; nap when, how long, and however I wanted; and spa day when, how long, however I wanted. With this poor girl, I'm too busy chasing around a toddler to nap or spa day. Luckily, my gym has an awesome nursery which Ev LOVES so I've been able to stick to that. I've actually gained less weight with this one so far (probably due to the fact that I also can't eat when, how long, and however I want.)

I keep reminding myself to be grateful for all the nuances of pregnancy because it certainly beats infertility or multiple miscarriages. I have to tell myself that this is a very short time in my life in the grand scheme of things. Many people would happily trade places with me, if given the opportunity. I will complain openly about one thing, though, so don't judge. I had ZERO complications with Everett. Even his birth was a dream come true and I was able to deliver naturally as I had wanted. With this pregnancy, can you say VARICOSE VEINS???? I'm not talking about little spidery, "Oh my legs are so ugly" things. We're talking, my entire right leg from toes to groin. It is quite impressive, I must say, and ridiculously painful. I started getting them before I was really even showing, around 19 weeks, and they've only gotten worse. Yes, I've tried support hose but to no avail. I will be visiting MS Vein Institute when all is said and done. Holy Moly, if anybody has any advice for me, I'll take it. Here's my plan at this point:
--Realize I work a 13 hour day, twice a week. I'm on my feet, on average, about 10 1/2 of those hours (on a good day.) I'm lucky if I get a 30 minute lunch and I get, virtually, no other breaks.
--I'm not compromising on exercising less. I feel like my first delivery went so well because I was in shape and this is my way of "paying it forward" to my body. If doing crunches every night means I will push 5 min less, than crunches it is.
-- I drink boatloads of water. It's supposed to help. I'm VERY tired of peeing every 20 min.
In fact, may I share...
Yes, she is finally head down and that bright white oval-ish thing above her head is my bladder. That would explain my constant need to run to the restroom, even if it is to rid myself of 3 Tbsp. of urine. Child is constantly pressing right on the blad. And how cool is this image? I'm in a research study at UMC monitoring healthy fetal brain growth at 31, 33, and 36 weeks gestation. This is her 31 week shot. I get the 33 week MRI this week. It's funny that I didn't even know E's gender and, with this girl, I'll know her gender, along with what her grey and white matter look like. I've come a long way!

I know this is a totally random post but I was needing to update and this about sums up our life right now. It's all about growing this baby girl for another 7 weeks. Scary. Well, all about this baby girl and this handsome fella...

Speaking of this little Momma's Boy...he's about 95% potty trained. He still wears diapers for naps and at night. Any certain age that they stop doing that? I am fully expecting an about face regression to pooping in pants when Chaney Claire gets here. We'll see. He's a funny kid and loves to be loved. I swear he is so my child. He LOVES to snuggle which I did not expect from a busy boy. He knows(ish) The Lord's Prayer and totally cracks me up when he says, "and be with our trespasses as we forgive those..." "...and lead us to temptation..." Awesome. I think God gets it.

My goal is to blog before baby girl gets here. We'll see. Lookey what I've gotten to start buying! PINK dresses. I've gotten totally out of control. I keep telling Hom that I'm actually saving us money because everything I buy is on sale and she has only a few clothes 0-3 months and more as it gets closer to 2T. I figure that's when they start staying in the same size longer anyway. Until next time...

Friday, May 4, 2012

Busy busy

We've been staying super busy now that the weather is fabulous. Our neighborhood has a playground, pool, lake, walking trail, and even a beach so, needless to say, we've been outside constantly. Ev got his tonsils and adenoids out. The two weeks following that was the longest, whiniest, clingiest, meanest I have ever seen our child. I almost took him back to the hospital and insisted they take this child back and return mine promptly. If it weren't for his skinny booty (he got from his Daddy) and stubborness (he got from yours truly), I really would have sworn they gave us the wrong kid post-op. However, by day 14, our sweet- natured, laid back boy had returned, leaving two exhausted parents in his wake. At day 14, we started more sleep training (story of my life)/baby boot camp. I read that you should silently return them to bed whenever they get up. Without saying anything to them or using any gestures (kisses, etc.), you just pick them up and keep returning them to bed. On night 15 post-op, we returned him to bed 18 times. Night 16, we were down to 3. Now, we've only had one bad night in two weeks (returned to bed 8 times--did I mention I am stubborn?) Praise the Lord! Other than that, I've been GROWING this baby girl...
Told ya! She now has a name, Chaney Claire. I'm 27 weeks and have gained almost 9 pounds! She is constant movement. This pregnancy is different that E's because I can't work out and nap on my own schedule. E, of course, has his own agenda. While he naps, I'm usually trying to clean house, cook, etc. I wouldn't trade it, though, because it beats the alternative. I have so many friends that are battling infertility/miscarriages and I attempt not to complain a minute of this pregnancy. It's all a matter of perspective. In other news, E was three days post-op on Easter morning so while there was some of this...
(Looks a little dazed, huh?)

There was also alot of this...
I will say he made it through the entire church service (usually only makes it through half but we didn't want him going to the nursery and risk getting sick). Our secret: he was all jacked up on chocolate and Lortab. Holla.

Wednesday, March 21, 2012

What fun...(whompwhompwhomp)

I love Zulily, I really do. I try to look on it daily and can usually find something I want. However, the processing/shipping takes FOREVER so I don't always cave to my wants. I once ordered pants for E and they took over a month to come in. Anyway, I was looking at the site today and came across this gem. I will say that the toys and Adirondacks were adorable but is this the best ad pic that they've got?? First off, that poor boy's hair. Is it a mullet or does Mommy just not want to cut it just yet? I mean, he's got to be at least three years so, if it's the latter, Mommy get over it and cut the child's pitiful mane. Secondly, could he look like he's having less fun sliding if he tried? Bless him. Just move out of the way, let the happy girl slide, go get him a haircut, and maybe an ice cream cone. Bless him.