This is the first year that Ava actually understands Santa Claus and the idea of Christmas, so I have been living it up! Watching Christmas specials on TV, reading "Jesus" books, we sing songs, we talk about Christmas trees and reindeers and elves. One of her favorite books this month was "The Little Red Elf", a Christmasy take on "The Little Red Hen". She also loves her "Dinosaur Christmas" book, a book where Santa is Santasaurus with his eight "dinodeer". She has a book where there are some Angels and so rather than calling the celestial winged beings "fairies" or "birdies", she now knows that they are Angels. However, I've been to the library several times, and I am having issues finding good toddler books that tell the story of Jesus and the first Christmas. There are a million regarding the Santa theme, but most of the Jesus-focused books are dull and the artwork is very Thomas Kincaide, literally, Thomas Kincaide, the kind of artwork that 80 year old women just LOVE. My toddler, not so much. It kind of makes me sad, but I am going to keep looking for some decent books that explain Christmas, the real Christmas. Why do Jesus-themed toddler books have to be so serious? So artsy and prestine? I mean seriously, my daughter would be much more interested in a stick-figure Jesus with a happy face and a donkey. Can't the story be told without a thousand dollar illustration?
Speaking of Christmas...Ava's first holiday preschool party is this Friday, which just happens to be my birthday! I am actually pretty excited:) I get to make 2 dozen cookies and we are all supposed to show up in our pajamas and apparently Santa Claus is coming for pictures, which will most likely be a disaster with Ava, but she'll at least enjoy the party. Oh yeah, Ava started preschool! She attends Edgewood Preschool Coop on Tuesdays and Thursdays. She LOVES it! Like obsessively loves it! On the first day, she painted on a large art easel the entire time and talked about it for DAYS! So much so that I bought her more paints and she now paints at least 5 days out of every week. She also plays with blocks, dolls, dinosaurs, she has made a few ornaments like a glittery pinecone and a cookie cut-out of a star and a candy cane. They "shake their sillies out" and she gets snack time where they pray and listen to a story read by Mrs. K, the preschool teacher. The best part? Oh yeah, I get to be there! Because it's a coop, it's run by the parents and the parents in the 2's class are required to stay with their child during class. It's perfect. Being 2 is hard enough on Ava, she is constantly trying to do things herself, but still wants me right next to her, but she also has this new little brother to compete with, which has turned her into a complete attention hog! She needs Roger and I to be next to her at ALL times, it is exhausting, but I understand that she needs us right now. Adjusting to the new little brother has been a challenge for her, and as he starts requiring more of my attention during the day, I can only guess that it's going to get harder. So the thought of a "drop off and leave" preschool for a 2 year old was not exactly what I thought would help her right now. Interestingly enough, they really don't exist in Indianapolis, so a co-op was the way to go for now and luckily it is less than 10 minutes away!
Also on the homefront, we are dealing with the dreaded potty-training. I really don't want to do it. Potty training makes my ovaries shrivel up and never want to have another child again. But in the past week, Ava has insisted that she go pee in the potty at sporadic times during the day. I don't encourage, and I really don't discourage, I just go along with it because I don't really want to be that mom whose daughter goes to college in diapers, although I wouldn't be totally against that right now either. When she squeals, "Mama, I have to go pee pee in the potty!", my first reaction is, "Oh good, can you just go pee pee in your diaper ??" Is that terrible? I really have no desire to start potty training with her. I hate toilets, I hate restrooms, I hate the thought of my daughter going into a restroom and touching everything within a 5 foot radius. Gross. Just thinking about it gave me temporary hep-C just then. The whole big girl bed thing mixed with potty training has kind of been a disaster. One morning Ava came into our room, completely naked, covered in poo. As you can imagine, I freaked out. Put her straight into the bath, me screaming, "Oh my GoD!" (which by the way, is one of Ava's new sayings...great). I was terrified to look in her bedroom, but there it was, diaper on the floor, poo ground into the carpet. It appeared that Ava had taken off her diaper, poo fell on the floor and so Ava, being the ever vigilant good daughter, took a bunch of baby wipes and attempted to "clean" the poo off the floor. The attempt was obviously a failure. Dozens of baby wipes with one smear of poop were scattered all over the room, poo rubbed into the carpet, poo everywhere. Horrifying. As I scrubbed the poo out of the carpet that morning, I wondered if this was going to become a routine...was this going to be my morning routine? What had become of my life??? Lol! Of course, I can laugh now because I haven't had another morning like that since. I must have traumatized her with my reaction that first morning. But God forbid if I just jinxed myself. Ehhhh... So anyways, Roger ordered some pull-ups since she has become fond of ripping her diapers off so that she can go pee pee in the potty for the fiftieth time. What am I supposed to do with pull-ups? I have no idea? I put them in her room, in a corner, and I am just waiting for them to potty-train my two-year old. Apparently they do that? I don't know.
Wednesday, December 12, 2012
Monday, November 12, 2012
Mommy of a "Big Girl":)
So this past Friday was Ava's first night in a "big girl bed". Roger and I bought a bed rail and he and Ava worked together to attach it to her reconfigured crib. She absolutely loved it! In fact, she wanted to just lie in it, completely avoiding her bedtime routine. It was so cute:) So here we on a Monday, and so far, so good! She stays in her bed until she falls asleep and she WAS being good about staying in her bed in the morning. This morning being the exception. Roger went to work at 6:30, and he woke her up. I changed her diaper and told her that it was still night-night time and that she needed to go back to sleep. I went back to bed and pulled the covers over my head at 6:40. At approximately 7:30, I heard a shrill and panicked scream, "Daaadddy! Where are you? Dadddy, Dadddy!!!" and she came bursting into our bedroom running around our bed screaming for Roger. Ughh...so we will see what she does tomorrow morning, who knows, maybe this morning was a one time thing? It's just so weird now, being the mom of a crazy, smart two-year old. She just turned two and she knows her colors, shapes (even hexagon, octagon, and oval!), ABC's, she can count to 14, tell stories, recount events, and repeat everything she hears! I would like to take some credit because I taught her most of it (mom brag), but I can't take any credit for how effortlessly she has made it all look. She is absolutely amazing!
Right now, Roger and Ava have taken off to the mall. I am so exhausted, going to the mall was the last thing that I wanted to do, so I am here with my sleeping baby, typing away. Today also marks day something or other that I haven't been on Facebook! How freeing...except I do still think about it as soon as one of the kids is sleeping. So what did I do today to replace my addiction? I did some laundry, cleaned the kitchen a bit, went outside so that Ava could play in the snow, made a salad, nursed a baby, played with Ava some more, started reading a self-help book...basically acted like a very boring 30-something with two little ones. How did that happen? I don't know. But I am okay with it. I hope it stays this way for awhile. I like it.
Right now, Roger and Ava have taken off to the mall. I am so exhausted, going to the mall was the last thing that I wanted to do, so I am here with my sleeping baby, typing away. Today also marks day something or other that I haven't been on Facebook! How freeing...except I do still think about it as soon as one of the kids is sleeping. So what did I do today to replace my addiction? I did some laundry, cleaned the kitchen a bit, went outside so that Ava could play in the snow, made a salad, nursed a baby, played with Ava some more, started reading a self-help book...basically acted like a very boring 30-something with two little ones. How did that happen? I don't know. But I am okay with it. I hope it stays this way for awhile. I like it.
Friday, November 9, 2012
Saying G'bye to Facebook, Temporarily?
The title says it all. I think that I am done with Facebook, at least temporarily. I find myself on it too often, with no real reason. The status updates are rarely insightful or significant in any way and I find myself just wasting away my free time, hour after hour. Currently, both children are asleep, and I've spent an hour, just perusing my Facebook, refreshing the page every so often, just to read somebody else's insignificant rant about nothing. I mean seriously, does anybody ever think of anything original, ever? Apparently not. And since I am not any different, and I have nothing original to say either, why bother? Maybe I'll spend more time blogging, maybe I'll spend my new free time cleaning the house (probably not), watching a new TV show (one addiction for another?) or reading a book (what a "novel" idea, lol), whatever it is, it will not include reading about "Sally's" crappy morning at the gym, what "Joe" ate for breakfast, or how much "Billy" hates Republicans. It's called TMI, and I kind of think that a lot of us are suffering from TMI Overload Disease mixed with delusions of grandeur. The mundane information overload is addictive and makes you believe that any and every thought that pops into your own head is worthy of an important exclamation to the world. When in reality, ehhh...not so much.
Monday, November 5, 2012
On Raising Adults...
I just got finished reading another goopy mom article about what parents hope to instill in their ever-angelic brood. It really got me thinking. Most articles state the obvious, the general, the vague. Things like, be courageous, be respectful, be kind. But after teaching in a high school for a few years, I know that those types of suggestions are rarely followed. So what if my husband and I were to die today? What is it that we want our children to know? We have a son and a daughter, and the world will most likely continue to be a very challenging, dangerous, immoral, self-centered place. So what are the ideals that we want our children to have? Of course, courage, respectfulness, kindness are in there, but how do you communicate these ideals very specifically with a young man or a young woman when the world muddles up these ideals with gray areas and exceptions?
I am going to take my best shot at this and sum up in precise measures, what it means to be a good person. Time tested solutions to most, if not all, of the problems and tough decisions in life.
1. Find a Church that you like, and go there. Go there as often as possible. Take part in the community that the Church provides, take advantage of what the Church has to offer, and make sure that you find something of value to offer to the Church, whether it be time, talent, money or perspective. Because no matter where you are in the world, what your age, what your life experience, or how much money you make, you will always be welcome there, and there you will always find Hope.
2. Pray often. Your father and I have not always been very diligent about prayer, but when we have needed the Lord, we have prayed, and the Lord has NEVER let us down. I am not kidding, the Lord will come through, for you too. It may take weeks, it may take decades, but pray often and pray thoughtfully, and He will always have your back.
3. Shut off the media. This is something that your father and I never had to deal with growing up. The constant barrage of TV channels, reality shows, newsfeeds, Twitters, Facebooking, Youtubing, is truly mind numbing. Remember that technology and media is an escape, it is not reality. Whenever you begin to think that your life is an online persona, turn it off. It is as addictive as it is fake. It can ruin your real life relationships, shelter you from others, and redirect your destiny in negative ways. Your life is not your computer or a television show. This may be hard to believe as a teenager and young adult. But remember, your life begins when you tune out and turn off. Trust us.
4. Remember that you are beautiful miracle! Not to be vain or narcissistic. But, when that nasty girl calls you a name in high school, when somebody stands you up or breaks your heart in college, when that jerk of a boss fires you, or a professor, or a boyfriend, or a best friend tells you that you're not enough, remember that you are amazing and wonderful beyond compare! When people treat you like dirt, and they will, remember that I prayed for years to bring you both into this world! Remember that God made you perfectly and that He has counted every hair on your beautiful head. And you, my beautiful baby, you are enough. Walk away from anyone that treats you as less than, because you are a miracle and a beautiful blessing.
5. Marry for love. When things get rough and the "ish" hits the fan, love is the only thing that will get you through it.
6. Respect and protect the integrity of everyone. It is very easy to respect the smart guy, strong guy, rich guy, but the true measure of humanity is the ability to treat even the least among us with integrity and respect. Animals, children, elderly, the immigrant, the poor and the disabled, they all have value, they all deserve to have a voice. You may be their voice someday if you choose, and sometimes you may be chosen to be their voice. Accept that responsibility with great care and judgment and pray for guidance along the way.
7. Don't do drugs, don't smoke. Don't drink until you are legally allowed to do so, and even then, watch yourself and know your own limits. Not only do drugs and alcohol hurt you and eventually kill you, but they hurt the people around you.
8. Clean up after yourself. Clean up after others.
9. Stay away from credit cards and save, save, save! You will be so glad that you did.
10. Take care of your health. We could just say, eat well and exercise, but it goes deeper than this. When you're healthy physically, mentally and emotionally, your day runs smoother, you feel better about yourself, you have more energy, you have a better life, period. So get involved in sports, dance, theater, choir, whatever you want to do and of course, learn to cook! Not being able to cook is a huge regret of mine, and it is one of the reasons that I have unfortunately spent many years eating packaged and processed foods. So take a cooking class or two and take care of yourself!
11. Landon, never hit a woman. Be a gentleman. Always treat women with the utmost respect and care.
12. Ava, if a man hits you, he is not a man. Leave him immediately and never look back.
13. Be faithful to your family. When you are single, be faithful to your mother, father, siblings, your cousins, your aunts and uncles. Show up for holidays, ask them about their lives, take care to let them know that you love them. When you are married, put your spouse first. Stay true to your spouse, be faithful to your spouse, forever.
14. Don't allow yourself to be exposed to the wrong people, things, or ideas. Be wary of who you call friend. Whether it be a coworker, significant other, or just someone you meet at a party. Understand that not every person is rational or good, some people are bad, plain and simple. Don't get caught up in groups that spread hate against anyone, don't get caught up in exclusivity, violence or verbal abuse towards anyone or anything. Some ideas are like bad rotten seeds, once they are planted, they take root and grow out of your control, taking over your life and your perspective on the world. They rot you in turn, from the inside out. Stay true to who you are and guard your heart as you would guard your own family and home.
15. Know that no matter how many times you make mistakes, you can always come home. We will always love you, unconditionally, no matter what.
Love,
Mom
I am going to take my best shot at this and sum up in precise measures, what it means to be a good person. Time tested solutions to most, if not all, of the problems and tough decisions in life.
1. Find a Church that you like, and go there. Go there as often as possible. Take part in the community that the Church provides, take advantage of what the Church has to offer, and make sure that you find something of value to offer to the Church, whether it be time, talent, money or perspective. Because no matter where you are in the world, what your age, what your life experience, or how much money you make, you will always be welcome there, and there you will always find Hope.
2. Pray often. Your father and I have not always been very diligent about prayer, but when we have needed the Lord, we have prayed, and the Lord has NEVER let us down. I am not kidding, the Lord will come through, for you too. It may take weeks, it may take decades, but pray often and pray thoughtfully, and He will always have your back.
3. Shut off the media. This is something that your father and I never had to deal with growing up. The constant barrage of TV channels, reality shows, newsfeeds, Twitters, Facebooking, Youtubing, is truly mind numbing. Remember that technology and media is an escape, it is not reality. Whenever you begin to think that your life is an online persona, turn it off. It is as addictive as it is fake. It can ruin your real life relationships, shelter you from others, and redirect your destiny in negative ways. Your life is not your computer or a television show. This may be hard to believe as a teenager and young adult. But remember, your life begins when you tune out and turn off. Trust us.
4. Remember that you are beautiful miracle! Not to be vain or narcissistic. But, when that nasty girl calls you a name in high school, when somebody stands you up or breaks your heart in college, when that jerk of a boss fires you, or a professor, or a boyfriend, or a best friend tells you that you're not enough, remember that you are amazing and wonderful beyond compare! When people treat you like dirt, and they will, remember that I prayed for years to bring you both into this world! Remember that God made you perfectly and that He has counted every hair on your beautiful head. And you, my beautiful baby, you are enough. Walk away from anyone that treats you as less than, because you are a miracle and a beautiful blessing.
5. Marry for love. When things get rough and the "ish" hits the fan, love is the only thing that will get you through it.
6. Respect and protect the integrity of everyone. It is very easy to respect the smart guy, strong guy, rich guy, but the true measure of humanity is the ability to treat even the least among us with integrity and respect. Animals, children, elderly, the immigrant, the poor and the disabled, they all have value, they all deserve to have a voice. You may be their voice someday if you choose, and sometimes you may be chosen to be their voice. Accept that responsibility with great care and judgment and pray for guidance along the way.
7. Don't do drugs, don't smoke. Don't drink until you are legally allowed to do so, and even then, watch yourself and know your own limits. Not only do drugs and alcohol hurt you and eventually kill you, but they hurt the people around you.
8. Clean up after yourself. Clean up after others.
9. Stay away from credit cards and save, save, save! You will be so glad that you did.
10. Take care of your health. We could just say, eat well and exercise, but it goes deeper than this. When you're healthy physically, mentally and emotionally, your day runs smoother, you feel better about yourself, you have more energy, you have a better life, period. So get involved in sports, dance, theater, choir, whatever you want to do and of course, learn to cook! Not being able to cook is a huge regret of mine, and it is one of the reasons that I have unfortunately spent many years eating packaged and processed foods. So take a cooking class or two and take care of yourself!
11. Landon, never hit a woman. Be a gentleman. Always treat women with the utmost respect and care.
12. Ava, if a man hits you, he is not a man. Leave him immediately and never look back.
13. Be faithful to your family. When you are single, be faithful to your mother, father, siblings, your cousins, your aunts and uncles. Show up for holidays, ask them about their lives, take care to let them know that you love them. When you are married, put your spouse first. Stay true to your spouse, be faithful to your spouse, forever.
14. Don't allow yourself to be exposed to the wrong people, things, or ideas. Be wary of who you call friend. Whether it be a coworker, significant other, or just someone you meet at a party. Understand that not every person is rational or good, some people are bad, plain and simple. Don't get caught up in groups that spread hate against anyone, don't get caught up in exclusivity, violence or verbal abuse towards anyone or anything. Some ideas are like bad rotten seeds, once they are planted, they take root and grow out of your control, taking over your life and your perspective on the world. They rot you in turn, from the inside out. Stay true to who you are and guard your heart as you would guard your own family and home.
15. Know that no matter how many times you make mistakes, you can always come home. We will always love you, unconditionally, no matter what.
Love,
Mom
Sunday, November 4, 2012
It's a Shock Top kind of night...eh?
Let's just say Mommy deserves this beer. Tonight Landon decided to scream for hours on end and Ava decided that she would like to start potty-training. Right. Now. My mommy senses tell me that Landon is going through a growth-spurt, hard to believe since the kid is already growing out of his 9 month old clothing at 3 months. And Ava, on her part, finds my attention being finely divided between her and Landon, which is maddening to a two-year old, I am sure.
What better way to get Mommy's attention, then to do something as monumental as peeing in a potty for the first time ever!? But peeing in the potty and being celebrated just doesn't cut it when baby brother is hogging all the attention with his screams. Ava wanted to go pee again, and again, and again, or at least try. And so there I am, trying to calm down a screaming baby while my two year old runs around naked yelling, "Mommy, pee in potty!", (while she sticks her hands and face into her potty chair, cue the mommy meltdown). Luckily, I was able to intervene just in time to stop a potty disaster, but good grief, can't we just all go to bed like calm, normal people?
So I looked in the potty. Yes, it was there! She had gone pee in the potty! I screeched with delirium, as I have been told that I am supposed to do, by some article I read somewhere on some website, to encourage the behavior. But I am sure my happy screams and celebrating were lost amongst the lung wrenching screams of my youngest little angel.
Why does it seem like the world is falling apart when Roger is working a night shift? It never fails. I am stuck juggling two kids through dinner, diaper changes, cleaning, feedings, bath time, stories, songs, prayers...the whole routine which should normally take an hour, takes a torturous two to three hours and by the end of it all, I am exhausted and cursing Roger for every day of every year that he has ever had to work or be in a "meeting" or study at night. I know it's not his fault, but come on! Even when he's on "vacation", he's working. He's putting together presentations, giving lectures, reading articles, attending meetings, dinners, socials, taking extra shifts...I am just so ready for all of this to be over.
So yes, after reading two books through incessant crying and whining, and saying prayers, while being climbed on and tickled, and singing umpteen lullabies while nursing and being screeched at, I am going to drink a beer. It is definitely a Shock Top kind of night.
What better way to get Mommy's attention, then to do something as monumental as peeing in a potty for the first time ever!? But peeing in the potty and being celebrated just doesn't cut it when baby brother is hogging all the attention with his screams. Ava wanted to go pee again, and again, and again, or at least try. And so there I am, trying to calm down a screaming baby while my two year old runs around naked yelling, "Mommy, pee in potty!", (while she sticks her hands and face into her potty chair, cue the mommy meltdown). Luckily, I was able to intervene just in time to stop a potty disaster, but good grief, can't we just all go to bed like calm, normal people?
So I looked in the potty. Yes, it was there! She had gone pee in the potty! I screeched with delirium, as I have been told that I am supposed to do, by some article I read somewhere on some website, to encourage the behavior. But I am sure my happy screams and celebrating were lost amongst the lung wrenching screams of my youngest little angel.
Why does it seem like the world is falling apart when Roger is working a night shift? It never fails. I am stuck juggling two kids through dinner, diaper changes, cleaning, feedings, bath time, stories, songs, prayers...the whole routine which should normally take an hour, takes a torturous two to three hours and by the end of it all, I am exhausted and cursing Roger for every day of every year that he has ever had to work or be in a "meeting" or study at night. I know it's not his fault, but come on! Even when he's on "vacation", he's working. He's putting together presentations, giving lectures, reading articles, attending meetings, dinners, socials, taking extra shifts...I am just so ready for all of this to be over.
So yes, after reading two books through incessant crying and whining, and saying prayers, while being climbed on and tickled, and singing umpteen lullabies while nursing and being screeched at, I am going to drink a beer. It is definitely a Shock Top kind of night.
Thursday, October 11, 2012
Welcome to the World, Landon!
Our little boy, Landon Robert, arrived on August 7, at 2:09pm. Weighing 8 lbs 7 oz, 22 1/2 inches long, he is healthy, happy, and by far the world's calmest and sweetest baby ever! I thought for sure he would come on his own, but per doctor's advice, I was induced on an early Tuesday morning, August 7th, at approximately 40 weeks.
I had been having contractions off and on for the last two weeks of my pregnancy, but nothing ever "real". Roger and I were getting super impatient, it was if our whole lives were on standby while we waited for our second to make his arrival. Everyday we tried to do something fun and new with Ava, because maybe, just maybe it was our last day as the "three of us". We went to the museums, the parks, the State Fair, walked around the mall umpteen million times...because maybe this would be the last time, maybe this afternoon it would happen? Maybe tonight? Maybe over the night I would wake up in labor? Maybe, maybe, maybe. It was a long and tortuous couple of weeks.
By August 3rd, I was resigned to the fact that this baby was going to be induced. His birthday would be August 7th, and while I was excited to meet him, I will admit I was sad to let go of that element of surprise. I was also terrified of what an induction might mean for me and for him, what if something went wrong? I already had the scare of a possible c-section due to his transverse position, but thank God, he had engaged by the date of my hospital version. What if I had to go into surgery for a CS? What if the induction had a negative effect on him, what if he wasn't mature enough to come out? I worried and worried:( The night before the induction, my contractions were out of control painful, from midnight to 2am, I was in tears, wondering if I would make it to the hospital at all. Even though they went away, it gave me some reassurance that he was wanting to come out. It might as well be today!
So at 4:00am, I got up and took a shower, called the hospital to affirm the appointment and Roger and I left for the hospital at 5am. We picked up McD's and headed to L&D in the dark. I was getting super nervous. I was admitted and hooked up to an IV (one of the worst parts of labor, I swear!). Pitocin and fluids were admitted. I am not sure at what time things started to progress, but by noonish, they were ready to break my water, which meant an epidural for me. I was actually excited for the epidural. It had gone so well with Ava, that I didn't have a worry in the world about getting the drugs. My anesthesiologist came in, he was youngish, with a loud and energetic demeanor that actually made me a little nervous. Just thinking about the actual procedure turned me into a sobbing baby and I cried through the whole thing. After he left, I anxiously waited for that "heavily floating" feeling I had with my last epidural. Oddly enough, my left leg turned to lead, my right leg however, just kind of tingled. Dr. Bell came in shortly after, broke my water. It was so weird! Just a huge gush of fluid...that's when it got real! I knew that this baby was coming out of me soon whether I was "ready" or not. I told Dr. Bell that my right side really wasn't as numb as I'd like it to be, in fact, I could still move my right leg and it only felt "tingly. She told me to give the epidural some time and maybe position myself differently. The nurse tipped me on my side, saying that the medicine works with gravity and that maybe it just needed time to work itself into my right side. So I waited. And waited. Until the contractions came...and boy, did they come! Like a thunderbolt ripping through my entire right side. I felt like I was going to black out. Every time one came, I gripped the side of the bed, screaming in pain. I tried not to scream, but it just came out of me, it was uncontrollable. The pain was almost unbearable and when it came wave after wave, I felt myself slowly floating away in my head, not fully conscious of what was going on in the room anymore, I was alone with this horrifying pain and all my body was capable of doing was screaming. The epidural was not working.
The nurses called the anesthesiologist back in, he seemed apologetic yet a tad bit annoyed. He sat me up and tried "wiggling" the catheter around in my back. Again, not the most pleasant experience. Then I had to keep waiting and see if the wiggling maneuver had worked. I waited around 30 minutes, it had not worked, the pain was out of this world and he needed to make it stop. They brought him back in and he again apologized for the amount of pain I was feeling. He removed the catheter and gave me a second epidural. I prayed that this time would work...but I had really lost all my faith in the process, I was convinced that this labor might kill me. Again, I had to wait it out. Would it work? It worked for about 10 minutes, I felt soothed, finally. I wanted to sleep, I closed my eyes and finally felt safe enough to sleep. And then, out of the blue, came the pain again! Oh. My. God. Here they come again. So much pain! Again, the screaming commenced. No one could figure out why they were back...not until Roger looked at the epidural machine and noticed that it had been TURNED OFF! "Are you kidding me!!", I thought to myself. In came the nurses, they turned on the fricking epidural machine and promised that this time, I would find some relief. And finally, I did.
From that point on, it was easy peasy! Dilation commenced fairly quickly after all of that and was kind of a blur. The doctor positioned the mirror to face down into all of the action. I laughingly joked, "Ah, I don't want to see that!", but then decided, what the hell...this is probably my last child, might as well see what is really going on down there. It was CRAZY! I saw his hair first. As I waited in between contractions, I could just see his head lying there, mid-canal, I was amazed that his little skull wasn't being crushed to bits by the few minutes of waiting. It made me want to push him out as fast as possible! And boy did I push! Five rounds of actual pushing...and there he was, my little boy! Landon Robert, born at 2:09pm! He came out crying and peeing all over the place, which gave everyone in the room a laugh. The nurse put him on my belly, and yep...he peed on me. Obviously grateful to finally meet me! Lol! He was perfect! Long, skinny and perfect! Once they measured and did whatever they do, they gave him to me and I put him to my breast. He latched on immediately and it was perfect! I knew that he and I were going to get along really well! For the next two days in the hospital, he never left my side, save for rounds of shots or to have blood tests. I nursed him around the clock, cuddled him the entire time. LOVED being waited on hand and foot by the nurses. LOVED just being alone with him. I seriously would have loved to have stayed in the hospital for a week or two. It was so nice to just focus on him and nothing else. But on Thursday, August 9, we were given permission to leave the hospital and we got out of there around 3:30. When we left the hospital, he was only down a few ounces, he wasn't jaundiced or sick or anything. He was just perfect!
The first stop when we left the hospital was the JC Penney photo studio to get newborn pictures done. From there, we went home and I was glad to be with Ava again. I was glad to be home, despite the fact that I would have to share a small bed, run on everyone else's schedule, make my own food and clean up my own messes...and everyone else's:) It was home and it felt good. The first few weeks went by SO quickly, they still do! I nursed him constantly to get my supply going. He was still having meconium diapers with maybe only one or two wet diapers a day for a week. He also had what was called "brick dust urine" from dehydration, which I was told is normal. But he was still waking up for feedings most nights. By that Saturday morning, I was making milk and so I hoped it would all get better and it did. By his two week check-up, he was 8lbs 5oz, practically back to his birth weight. At his one month check-up, he was 10 pounds, 23in, and by his two month check-up, he had reached 13lbs, 14oz and 25 inches long!!
He is the BEST little boy a Mommy could ever ask for!! He only cries if he is hungry or tired. He sleeps so well and when he's awake, he has a very happy and jovial demeanor, all smiles and laughs. He started giving smiles around 6 weeks old. By 8 weeks, he was giving us a few chuckles here and there...he is absolutely adorable!!
Ava loves him SO much! For the first few weeks, she just kind of ignored him, and he slept 24/7, so she really wasn't bothered by him at all. She would like to "help" with diaper changes, at which point she would announce that he had a "tail"! Lol! By four weeks, she started to ask about him, where he was, or she would let me know that he was crying. She began monitoring his paci-time. She always makes sure he has paci if he is crying and she likes to "pet" his head, play with his hands and feet, and name his body parts, like his nose and eyes and ears and hair. It is so cute! Sometime around 8 weeks old, Landon started noticing her. Sometimes horrified, sometimes amused, he intently watches her and listens to her high-pitched squeals and screams. He is also starting to notice the dogs, only when they move though.
Here, at almost 9 weeks old, he still mostly sleeps during the day. He may have an hour or maybe two hours a day where he is awake, but that's it! I am convinced that everytime he goes to sleep, he grows another ounce and a half-inch! Lol!
He is such a blessing in our lives! I honestly feel like he has completed our family and has made our lives so much better, as if that was even possible! His sweet little smile just lifts us up, Ava already loves him so much and is so protective of him, life just doesn't get any better than this!
I had been having contractions off and on for the last two weeks of my pregnancy, but nothing ever "real". Roger and I were getting super impatient, it was if our whole lives were on standby while we waited for our second to make his arrival. Everyday we tried to do something fun and new with Ava, because maybe, just maybe it was our last day as the "three of us". We went to the museums, the parks, the State Fair, walked around the mall umpteen million times...because maybe this would be the last time, maybe this afternoon it would happen? Maybe tonight? Maybe over the night I would wake up in labor? Maybe, maybe, maybe. It was a long and tortuous couple of weeks.
By August 3rd, I was resigned to the fact that this baby was going to be induced. His birthday would be August 7th, and while I was excited to meet him, I will admit I was sad to let go of that element of surprise. I was also terrified of what an induction might mean for me and for him, what if something went wrong? I already had the scare of a possible c-section due to his transverse position, but thank God, he had engaged by the date of my hospital version. What if I had to go into surgery for a CS? What if the induction had a negative effect on him, what if he wasn't mature enough to come out? I worried and worried:( The night before the induction, my contractions were out of control painful, from midnight to 2am, I was in tears, wondering if I would make it to the hospital at all. Even though they went away, it gave me some reassurance that he was wanting to come out. It might as well be today!
So at 4:00am, I got up and took a shower, called the hospital to affirm the appointment and Roger and I left for the hospital at 5am. We picked up McD's and headed to L&D in the dark. I was getting super nervous. I was admitted and hooked up to an IV (one of the worst parts of labor, I swear!). Pitocin and fluids were admitted. I am not sure at what time things started to progress, but by noonish, they were ready to break my water, which meant an epidural for me. I was actually excited for the epidural. It had gone so well with Ava, that I didn't have a worry in the world about getting the drugs. My anesthesiologist came in, he was youngish, with a loud and energetic demeanor that actually made me a little nervous. Just thinking about the actual procedure turned me into a sobbing baby and I cried through the whole thing. After he left, I anxiously waited for that "heavily floating" feeling I had with my last epidural. Oddly enough, my left leg turned to lead, my right leg however, just kind of tingled. Dr. Bell came in shortly after, broke my water. It was so weird! Just a huge gush of fluid...that's when it got real! I knew that this baby was coming out of me soon whether I was "ready" or not. I told Dr. Bell that my right side really wasn't as numb as I'd like it to be, in fact, I could still move my right leg and it only felt "tingly. She told me to give the epidural some time and maybe position myself differently. The nurse tipped me on my side, saying that the medicine works with gravity and that maybe it just needed time to work itself into my right side. So I waited. And waited. Until the contractions came...and boy, did they come! Like a thunderbolt ripping through my entire right side. I felt like I was going to black out. Every time one came, I gripped the side of the bed, screaming in pain. I tried not to scream, but it just came out of me, it was uncontrollable. The pain was almost unbearable and when it came wave after wave, I felt myself slowly floating away in my head, not fully conscious of what was going on in the room anymore, I was alone with this horrifying pain and all my body was capable of doing was screaming. The epidural was not working.
The nurses called the anesthesiologist back in, he seemed apologetic yet a tad bit annoyed. He sat me up and tried "wiggling" the catheter around in my back. Again, not the most pleasant experience. Then I had to keep waiting and see if the wiggling maneuver had worked. I waited around 30 minutes, it had not worked, the pain was out of this world and he needed to make it stop. They brought him back in and he again apologized for the amount of pain I was feeling. He removed the catheter and gave me a second epidural. I prayed that this time would work...but I had really lost all my faith in the process, I was convinced that this labor might kill me. Again, I had to wait it out. Would it work? It worked for about 10 minutes, I felt soothed, finally. I wanted to sleep, I closed my eyes and finally felt safe enough to sleep. And then, out of the blue, came the pain again! Oh. My. God. Here they come again. So much pain! Again, the screaming commenced. No one could figure out why they were back...not until Roger looked at the epidural machine and noticed that it had been TURNED OFF! "Are you kidding me!!", I thought to myself. In came the nurses, they turned on the fricking epidural machine and promised that this time, I would find some relief. And finally, I did.
From that point on, it was easy peasy! Dilation commenced fairly quickly after all of that and was kind of a blur. The doctor positioned the mirror to face down into all of the action. I laughingly joked, "Ah, I don't want to see that!", but then decided, what the hell...this is probably my last child, might as well see what is really going on down there. It was CRAZY! I saw his hair first. As I waited in between contractions, I could just see his head lying there, mid-canal, I was amazed that his little skull wasn't being crushed to bits by the few minutes of waiting. It made me want to push him out as fast as possible! And boy did I push! Five rounds of actual pushing...and there he was, my little boy! Landon Robert, born at 2:09pm! He came out crying and peeing all over the place, which gave everyone in the room a laugh. The nurse put him on my belly, and yep...he peed on me. Obviously grateful to finally meet me! Lol! He was perfect! Long, skinny and perfect! Once they measured and did whatever they do, they gave him to me and I put him to my breast. He latched on immediately and it was perfect! I knew that he and I were going to get along really well! For the next two days in the hospital, he never left my side, save for rounds of shots or to have blood tests. I nursed him around the clock, cuddled him the entire time. LOVED being waited on hand and foot by the nurses. LOVED just being alone with him. I seriously would have loved to have stayed in the hospital for a week or two. It was so nice to just focus on him and nothing else. But on Thursday, August 9, we were given permission to leave the hospital and we got out of there around 3:30. When we left the hospital, he was only down a few ounces, he wasn't jaundiced or sick or anything. He was just perfect!
The first stop when we left the hospital was the JC Penney photo studio to get newborn pictures done. From there, we went home and I was glad to be with Ava again. I was glad to be home, despite the fact that I would have to share a small bed, run on everyone else's schedule, make my own food and clean up my own messes...and everyone else's:) It was home and it felt good. The first few weeks went by SO quickly, they still do! I nursed him constantly to get my supply going. He was still having meconium diapers with maybe only one or two wet diapers a day for a week. He also had what was called "brick dust urine" from dehydration, which I was told is normal. But he was still waking up for feedings most nights. By that Saturday morning, I was making milk and so I hoped it would all get better and it did. By his two week check-up, he was 8lbs 5oz, practically back to his birth weight. At his one month check-up, he was 10 pounds, 23in, and by his two month check-up, he had reached 13lbs, 14oz and 25 inches long!!
He is the BEST little boy a Mommy could ever ask for!! He only cries if he is hungry or tired. He sleeps so well and when he's awake, he has a very happy and jovial demeanor, all smiles and laughs. He started giving smiles around 6 weeks old. By 8 weeks, he was giving us a few chuckles here and there...he is absolutely adorable!!
Ava loves him SO much! For the first few weeks, she just kind of ignored him, and he slept 24/7, so she really wasn't bothered by him at all. She would like to "help" with diaper changes, at which point she would announce that he had a "tail"! Lol! By four weeks, she started to ask about him, where he was, or she would let me know that he was crying. She began monitoring his paci-time. She always makes sure he has paci if he is crying and she likes to "pet" his head, play with his hands and feet, and name his body parts, like his nose and eyes and ears and hair. It is so cute! Sometime around 8 weeks old, Landon started noticing her. Sometimes horrified, sometimes amused, he intently watches her and listens to her high-pitched squeals and screams. He is also starting to notice the dogs, only when they move though.
Here, at almost 9 weeks old, he still mostly sleeps during the day. He may have an hour or maybe two hours a day where he is awake, but that's it! I am convinced that everytime he goes to sleep, he grows another ounce and a half-inch! Lol!
He is such a blessing in our lives! I honestly feel like he has completed our family and has made our lives so much better, as if that was even possible! His sweet little smile just lifts us up, Ava already loves him so much and is so protective of him, life just doesn't get any better than this!
Tuesday, October 9, 2012
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Wednesday, July 18, 2012
Life with Ava - Change is Coming!
So I haven't blogged as much as I had hoped I would during this pregnancy. Somehow, the days have just flown by, and the little moments that I would have liked to document in writing, are now just fleeting moments and memories that are most likely hidden somewhere in my heart. Ava running, Ava screeching, all of Ava's new words, silly words, silly faces, new discoveries...she is becomes a whole new person everyday and it's hard to fathom that someday I won't remember her quite the way she was today. Every moment changes into the next moment and suddenly she has become something new and different. It's beautiful. Her life is beautiful. She is so beautiful.
While being at home with her 24/7 has been a little difficult while being so enormously pregnant, her father and I have tried to explain to her that pretty soon she will have a baby brother. I find it interesting that we are trying to prepare her for something that we ourselves have absolutely no clue about...we are the blind leading the blind here. We both know that our lives, all of our lives, will change drastically, and that someday far down the road, we won't even remember what it was like to not have two kids. Maybe in the same way that it's hard to fathom what we ever did before Ava.
I get really nostalgic when I think about these first 21 months of Ava's life. She has been our rock star, our number one baby, our everything. Our world has revolved around her, my world has been nothing but her...for an entire 21 months. Just shy of two years. I get sad when I think that in just a few days, that will be gone. There's a tinge of guilt that permeates my every interaction with her now. I want to remember these days, I want her to remember these days, how special she is to us, but I know that at just a moment's notice, her life will change, and she will most likely never remember the past 21 months. She'll only remember life with little brother. I hope they are good memories. I hope she adjusts well, I hope she loves him and easily accepts this new little life into her own life. Part of me thinks that of course she will, part of me is terrified because I really have no idea.
I am currently 37 weeks pregnant. Officially full-term! Baby boy, I can feel you in there! Even now as I type, you've had the hiccups and my belly has been knocking up a storm. We can't wait to meet you! We can't wait for you to be part of our family! It's a good family, full of laughter and goofiness and lots of shopping and trips to lots of far away places. But most of all, there is a lot of love. We like hugs and cuddling and smiles. We sing songs and go on walks and hold hands and we say, "I love you", probably way more than most.
I hope that your entrance into this world is an easy and expedient one. Just think, in a few days, for a fraction of a second, you will be the youngest person in the world! I can't wait for you to meet your Dad and your Big Sister:) I can't wait to hold you in my arms and see your beautiful face!! Just remember that life may not always be easy here, especially your first few weeks, but you will always be loved by your family! Keep growing strong and I will see you in a few! I love you!
Saturday, May 12, 2012
No Rest for the Wicked...
Yesterday was a great day! Ava and I had a reasonably good morning. She did an AMAZING job in ballet, practicing the entire routine with Miss Ashley! I can't believe how smart she's getting, she is able to do an entire little dance routine, I LOVE IT! Then we headed home for lunch after a stop at McD's for me. The best part about going to McD's these days is that Ava screams "Appap!" (apple) whenever we pull into the drive-through! I totally love that she associates McDonald's with apples, lol!
She napped from 1-3 and then Roger woke up so that I could get some more uninterrupted cleaning finished. He took another nap from 5-7ish, so Ava and I hung out and went outside. It was outside that she did something that she's never done before...she loves our chiminea (sp?) and loves to take the rocks out and scatter them around the back deck. Not exactly something that I love. Well when I asked her to put the rock back into the chiminea, she played around with it in her hand. She pretended to drop it, then really dropped it, then picked it up. Then she ran off the deck while I threatened, "Ava if you don't put the rock back, we are going inside!" Nothing. So I got up and opened the patio door. She immediately turned around, held out her hand with the rock and toddled her way up onto the deck as fast as her little legs would take her. She then ran to the chiminea and dropped the rock back where it belonged. I couldn't believe it! She understood that she could stay outside if she did what I had asked her to do. I was shocked! I've spent months wondering what she understands and doesn't understand. I just assumed that she doesn't understand consequences or compromise...lo and behold, she understands BOTH! She is so stinkin' smart!
So last night Ava was up from about midnight until 2am. At first, screaming like crazy in her sleep...a possible nightmare? Then, just lying there talking to herself, standing up and wandering around the crib talking to herself. I changed her diaper and tried to get her to go to sleep. No luck:( Hate nights like these, where I can't sleep because she can't sleep. Ughh...and of course today is supposed to be a super long day. We've got my friends pre-wedding luncheon and Henna ceremony this afternoon and Ava's dance rehearsal afterwards. Yep, no nap for her (or me)! And I've got more housecleaning to do than I want to admit, which is why I am sitting here lamenting over the day instead of doing something.
Friday, May 11, 2012
Getting the motivation...
So this weekend is super busy. One of my close friends is getting married and I've had to do a little bit of hustling to find an all day babysitter on Sunday, which just happens to be Mother's Day. Yes, her wedding is on Mother's Day, but that's a whole other story. So this morning I am desperately looking for the motivation to clean up my house. Tomorrow, we are going to a pre-wedding lunch, followed by a 2 hour long Henna ceremony, and then I have to rush Ava back down to her dance studio for a one hour rehearsal.
Right now Roger is sleeping, he just got off the night shift. And Ava is watching the dogs attack each other on the couch. I have to take her to ballet in an hour. So if I start now, I have a good hour to get the kitchen cleaned, maybe? Ok. I need to be productive today. And GO!
Monday, February 20, 2012
It's True! We Are Expecting A...
BOY! OH BOY! I am on the verge of 16 weeks pregnant today, which means that I am through the hellish first trimester, yet still very far away from the dreaded third trimester body breakdown, which makes me officially HAPPILY PREGNANT! We announced it all to family on Christmas day. The Grandparents got a present that included some baby booties and a framed picture of Ava with a "Big Sister" shirt on;) It was a big shock to everyone, including me. Seriously. I didn't know I was pregnant until then, and then I wondered, is this is really happening? No, really? Another bundle of sweet baby!
Ok, so I am not gonna lie. This pregnancy was a complete surprise, a very happy surprise. Roger and I seriously thought it would take a little while, maybe even a couple of years before we had another baby. We weren't exactly in a rush, yet we weren't exactly taking any precautions either, if you know what I mean. ;)
This whole pregnancy has been the polar opposite of my first pregnancy. As soon as the stick on the EPT turned blue, I was nauseous, fatigued and losing weight. Keeping up with Ava was almost impossible. I could barely keep my eyes open and by the time it hit 3 in the afternoon, forget it. I was usually passed out in a corner while Ava rolled around on top of me like a jungle gym for two hours and then she'd be off to destroy everything in the house. I'd wake up feeling terribly guilty as I looked around to realize that my beautiful one year old had destroyed everything in the house, and yet thankfully managed to cause all of the destruction without hurting herself. I am talking about crayons on the wall, dog food scattered throughout the house, toilet paper wound around her head, books torn to pieces. But I was SO tired, I really didn't care, I would pick it up later, or maybe not.
Around 10 or 11 weeks, I started feeling better. Ava was still destroying everything in her path, but this time I had the energy to clean it all up, for the millionth time.
I've now gotten most of my energy back, I am excited to get out of the house, I drag Ava around with me to church, the mall, the museum, the grocery, the park, all while staying successfully awake...most of the time.
I've gotten to that stage where I am more stressed out about how this is all going to affect Ava come August. I can't even count how many nights I've just lied in bed thinking about how to have a baby without disrupting Ava's life in even the slightest way. I am even nixing the idea of a nursery and a big girl bed, because if Ava has to move rooms, or change beds, or lose her playroom, what if she feels like the baby is replacing her or taking away her space??
I desperately want to have this baby and still continue on with life as if nothing has changed. Is that too much to ask for?? I don't want to stress Ava, I don't want to stress myself. I just want a healthy baby brother for Ava and a sweet little baby boy for our family, without ya know, doing anything differently. Ughh...it's too stressful to even contemplate right now. I think I need to go shopping. Goodbye.
Ok, so I am not gonna lie. This pregnancy was a complete surprise, a very happy surprise. Roger and I seriously thought it would take a little while, maybe even a couple of years before we had another baby. We weren't exactly in a rush, yet we weren't exactly taking any precautions either, if you know what I mean. ;)
This whole pregnancy has been the polar opposite of my first pregnancy. As soon as the stick on the EPT turned blue, I was nauseous, fatigued and losing weight. Keeping up with Ava was almost impossible. I could barely keep my eyes open and by the time it hit 3 in the afternoon, forget it. I was usually passed out in a corner while Ava rolled around on top of me like a jungle gym for two hours and then she'd be off to destroy everything in the house. I'd wake up feeling terribly guilty as I looked around to realize that my beautiful one year old had destroyed everything in the house, and yet thankfully managed to cause all of the destruction without hurting herself. I am talking about crayons on the wall, dog food scattered throughout the house, toilet paper wound around her head, books torn to pieces. But I was SO tired, I really didn't care, I would pick it up later, or maybe not.
Around 10 or 11 weeks, I started feeling better. Ava was still destroying everything in her path, but this time I had the energy to clean it all up, for the millionth time.
I've now gotten most of my energy back, I am excited to get out of the house, I drag Ava around with me to church, the mall, the museum, the grocery, the park, all while staying successfully awake...most of the time.
I've gotten to that stage where I am more stressed out about how this is all going to affect Ava come August. I can't even count how many nights I've just lied in bed thinking about how to have a baby without disrupting Ava's life in even the slightest way. I am even nixing the idea of a nursery and a big girl bed, because if Ava has to move rooms, or change beds, or lose her playroom, what if she feels like the baby is replacing her or taking away her space??
I desperately want to have this baby and still continue on with life as if nothing has changed. Is that too much to ask for?? I don't want to stress Ava, I don't want to stress myself. I just want a healthy baby brother for Ava and a sweet little baby boy for our family, without ya know, doing anything differently. Ughh...it's too stressful to even contemplate right now. I think I need to go shopping. Goodbye.
Friday, January 6, 2012
Ever have one of those days?
This day started out with "disaster" written all over it. For some reason, Ava woke up excruciatingly early, nearly 4 in the morning! I changed her diaper, got her a glass of milk, sang her lullabies in the rocking chair, trying desperately to get her little mind to quiet. But to no avail. At 7am she was finally ready for her "nap". So I went back to bed, only to be woken up at 8am by her chattering away in her crib and my husband coming home from his night shift. I don't really know how much she managed to sleep in that one hour, but at least I got some sleep.
Roger made us pancakes. Ava refused to eat them. She prefered only milk and then raced around her playroom for awhile. It was supposed to be a bee-u-ti-ful day! January and temperatures were expected to be in the 50's! I was determined to do something outdoorsy today, so I texted my friend Sara and arranged a playdate at the zoo for the afternoon! Sounds like a great idea, right? Anyways, Roger went to bed for the day and I was left to get Ava ready for her first ballet class ever! I was super excited and kind of nervous. It's like the first day of school, but I knew I'd be dealing with moms instead of high schoolers, although I don't know which is more frightening?
We got to ballet class a half hour early (I was really afraid to be late) and Ava and I walked up and down the hallways to just waste some time. Finally, the ballet teacher, Miss Ashley, opened the door and we were allowed to go inside while she set up for class. I wrote out a check while Ava ran around the room playing with balls and checking out the mirrors. When everybody else arrived, it was a ton of fun. Although Ava didn't follow any of the directions from Miss Ashley, she loved just watching her dance and clap and sing. In fact, Ava was smiling and laughing at her the ENTIRE time:) I kept trying to get Ava's attention, like, "Hello! Ava! Look! Mommy's singing and dancing too, dance with Mommy!!!" Pssshhh...forget it, she was glued to Miss Ashley. I am actually a little jealous just thinking about it! But whatever.
After the class was over, I got Ava home and tried to put her down for a nap. Nope, that wasn't happening. She literally sat and babbled away in her crib for over a half an hour. I finally went in to get her and WOOOAHH! Her entire room smelled like nasty poo! I picked her up and went to change her diaper, which is a lot like wrestling a mini-alligator these days. It wasn't just poo, it was diarrhea poo. The runny, yellow, gooey kind that smells like death and flies everywhere every time she kicks her feet in the air, the kind that you imagine somehow got into your mouth because you can practically taste it, and it makes you gag just thinking about it. But I got her cleaned up and dressed and I thought about trying naptime again?? Buuut, now that we had a zoo playdate, it was ultimately too late to try naptime because Ava needed to eat lunch. So again, I put food in front of her, she refused to eat it. I was, however, able to get some watermelon in her and then we were off to enjoy the sunshine at the Zoo!
Ava screamed the entire time. I tried picking her up, letting her walk, putting her in her stroller, she was just not having it! I kept apologizing, saying that it's because she had had a long day and probably wasn't feeling well. I finally got her to calm down with some cheerios, at which point she slumped over in her stroller and slowly ate each cheerio in a weird sort of daze. I thought, whatever, at least she's quiet. Then as we were leaving the zoo, I decided to change her diaper in the back of our SUV before the ride home and whattya know! The diaper from Hell! I didn't even notice it because Ava had on two layers of clothing, but when I went to take off her pants, I saw the yellow goo all down her legs, then as unsnapped her onesie, I saw that the yellow goo extended all the way up her back. It had all been conveniently hidden by her sweater and it was EVERYWHERE. So now at this point Ava's crying again and I am thinking, wtf?! I try to pull her clothes off by pulling them down so that she doesn't get poop in her face or hair. I then see the full damage, it is all over her arms, her armpits, her tummy. That's when I lose it. I throw all of her clothes onto the ground. I pick her up by her wrist and spin her around as I grap wipe after wipe after wipe, trying to get her cleaned off, throwing all of the wipes on the ground. I take off her diaper, throw it on the ground. There is poop everywhere. All over our car, Ava, me, everywhere.
Then the most awesomest thing happens ever. The man that parked right next to us, strolls up with his kids. They just stop and stare. I am holding my naked screaming toddler by the wrist, wiping her down with anything that's not covered in poop, and there's a pile of poo covered clothes and wipes sitting at the tire of his van. AAAAND he's just staring at me like I am the worst mom ever...what an a**hole! I briefly looked over, not making eye contact, and said, "I am sorry", referring to the pile of sh*t at his feet...and I continued to wipe her arms and stomach down as she twisted and screamed. With Ava still reeling in one hand, I grabbed some old Christmas wrapping paper that was still in our car with the other hand, and I ripped off a bunch of huge pieces to cover the poopy covered car. I laid Ava down in the nest of wrapping paper and tried to calm her down as best I could. Her little face was all snotty and red and I thought I was gonna lose it if not for that little face looking back at me. I grabbed a clean diaper and some clean pajamas (thank GOD we had those!) from her diaper bag and I got her dressed. Got her in the car and was finally ready to be home to get her in the tub and then I realized, FUUUDGE, we were out of milk and bananas and I needed to get some asap.
So despite the trauma of the day, I stopped by the Wal-mart on the way home. Ava was so incredibly tired that she slept through the entire Wal-mart visit. I carried her in my left arm while picking up milk and bananas...and chocolate cake and lasagna...and maybe some fish sticks...and some Coke Zero? Sure, why not. Multiple old ladies made comments, "Aww, tired baby!" Another asked me if she had just gotten her shots today. And although I would've loved to sit and chat with all the old women at Wal-mart, I left it at "She's just tired", and I moved on. When my arm started getting numb I decided I should probably check-out. I made my way to the Express Lane, which was anything but Express. It seemed that everyone checking out in front of me knew the cashier and they all needed to chat. The feeling in my arm slowly withered away and I had to wake Ava up to put her in the cart. She wasn't exactly happy about that and she threw a huge tantrum, right there in the check-out line, until I picked her up again and held her. Ridiculous.
When we got home, I took her straight to the bathtub. She got cleaned up and then I tried to get her to eat some bananas and oatmeal, something that I thought might make her tummy feel better. Well...it turns out she just wanted bananas. She threw the oatmeal everywhere. Awesome. I tried to get her to sit with me on the couch and just calm down for the evening. But she threw one giant tantrum after another. So I decided, even though it was an hour before her bedtime, she was going to bed.
In her room, I read her some books and then we did our night time ritual. Turned on the white noise, turned on her ladybug stars, I gave her some water and then I sang her lullabies while rocking in the rocking chair. We do this every night, nothing different. Tonight she decided she wanted to sing with me. While lying on my shoulder, she spent 3 out of the 5 lullabies screeching and babbling. She kept repeating the sound, "tickle, tickle, tickle" until it became "coti coti coti" then something else, then she'd screech. It got to be too much and I just couldn't stop myself, I started laughing, the kind of laugh that you're trying to contain, so your whole body shakes. Then it was over for the both of us...she felt me laughing and she started laughing, and then kept laughing until I laughed again, and then we were both laughing, and I couldn't stop and she thought it was hilarious, and that's all we did for awhile, we just giggled and snuggled. And then she pummeled me over the head with her sippy cup, and head-butted me in the nose multiple times, out of sheer glee, so that I had to hold in my laughs for fear of further physical trauma. Finally able to contain myself, we gave eachother kisses and she fell asleep on my shoulder.
While I was rocking her to sleep, all I could think was ehhh...what a bad day! It wasn't that Ava was "bad" or that I was a "bad mom", it was just the day we were given. That's all. But I couldn't help but think, I would never want to relive today over again! And then I thought about it a little more and ya know what...if God ever gave me a choice, to relive my worst day with Ava or relive my best day without her, I wouldn't even hesitate in my answer. When I am with Ava, even my worst day is my greatest blessing.
Roger made us pancakes. Ava refused to eat them. She prefered only milk and then raced around her playroom for awhile. It was supposed to be a bee-u-ti-ful day! January and temperatures were expected to be in the 50's! I was determined to do something outdoorsy today, so I texted my friend Sara and arranged a playdate at the zoo for the afternoon! Sounds like a great idea, right? Anyways, Roger went to bed for the day and I was left to get Ava ready for her first ballet class ever! I was super excited and kind of nervous. It's like the first day of school, but I knew I'd be dealing with moms instead of high schoolers, although I don't know which is more frightening?
We got to ballet class a half hour early (I was really afraid to be late) and Ava and I walked up and down the hallways to just waste some time. Finally, the ballet teacher, Miss Ashley, opened the door and we were allowed to go inside while she set up for class. I wrote out a check while Ava ran around the room playing with balls and checking out the mirrors. When everybody else arrived, it was a ton of fun. Although Ava didn't follow any of the directions from Miss Ashley, she loved just watching her dance and clap and sing. In fact, Ava was smiling and laughing at her the ENTIRE time:) I kept trying to get Ava's attention, like, "Hello! Ava! Look! Mommy's singing and dancing too, dance with Mommy!!!" Pssshhh...forget it, she was glued to Miss Ashley. I am actually a little jealous just thinking about it! But whatever.
After the class was over, I got Ava home and tried to put her down for a nap. Nope, that wasn't happening. She literally sat and babbled away in her crib for over a half an hour. I finally went in to get her and WOOOAHH! Her entire room smelled like nasty poo! I picked her up and went to change her diaper, which is a lot like wrestling a mini-alligator these days. It wasn't just poo, it was diarrhea poo. The runny, yellow, gooey kind that smells like death and flies everywhere every time she kicks her feet in the air, the kind that you imagine somehow got into your mouth because you can practically taste it, and it makes you gag just thinking about it. But I got her cleaned up and dressed and I thought about trying naptime again?? Buuut, now that we had a zoo playdate, it was ultimately too late to try naptime because Ava needed to eat lunch. So again, I put food in front of her, she refused to eat it. I was, however, able to get some watermelon in her and then we were off to enjoy the sunshine at the Zoo!
Ava screamed the entire time. I tried picking her up, letting her walk, putting her in her stroller, she was just not having it! I kept apologizing, saying that it's because she had had a long day and probably wasn't feeling well. I finally got her to calm down with some cheerios, at which point she slumped over in her stroller and slowly ate each cheerio in a weird sort of daze. I thought, whatever, at least she's quiet. Then as we were leaving the zoo, I decided to change her diaper in the back of our SUV before the ride home and whattya know! The diaper from Hell! I didn't even notice it because Ava had on two layers of clothing, but when I went to take off her pants, I saw the yellow goo all down her legs, then as unsnapped her onesie, I saw that the yellow goo extended all the way up her back. It had all been conveniently hidden by her sweater and it was EVERYWHERE. So now at this point Ava's crying again and I am thinking, wtf?! I try to pull her clothes off by pulling them down so that she doesn't get poop in her face or hair. I then see the full damage, it is all over her arms, her armpits, her tummy. That's when I lose it. I throw all of her clothes onto the ground. I pick her up by her wrist and spin her around as I grap wipe after wipe after wipe, trying to get her cleaned off, throwing all of the wipes on the ground. I take off her diaper, throw it on the ground. There is poop everywhere. All over our car, Ava, me, everywhere.
Then the most awesomest thing happens ever. The man that parked right next to us, strolls up with his kids. They just stop and stare. I am holding my naked screaming toddler by the wrist, wiping her down with anything that's not covered in poop, and there's a pile of poo covered clothes and wipes sitting at the tire of his van. AAAAND he's just staring at me like I am the worst mom ever...what an a**hole! I briefly looked over, not making eye contact, and said, "I am sorry", referring to the pile of sh*t at his feet...and I continued to wipe her arms and stomach down as she twisted and screamed. With Ava still reeling in one hand, I grabbed some old Christmas wrapping paper that was still in our car with the other hand, and I ripped off a bunch of huge pieces to cover the poopy covered car. I laid Ava down in the nest of wrapping paper and tried to calm her down as best I could. Her little face was all snotty and red and I thought I was gonna lose it if not for that little face looking back at me. I grabbed a clean diaper and some clean pajamas (thank GOD we had those!) from her diaper bag and I got her dressed. Got her in the car and was finally ready to be home to get her in the tub and then I realized, FUUUDGE, we were out of milk and bananas and I needed to get some asap.
So despite the trauma of the day, I stopped by the Wal-mart on the way home. Ava was so incredibly tired that she slept through the entire Wal-mart visit. I carried her in my left arm while picking up milk and bananas...and chocolate cake and lasagna...and maybe some fish sticks...and some Coke Zero? Sure, why not. Multiple old ladies made comments, "Aww, tired baby!" Another asked me if she had just gotten her shots today. And although I would've loved to sit and chat with all the old women at Wal-mart, I left it at "She's just tired", and I moved on. When my arm started getting numb I decided I should probably check-out. I made my way to the Express Lane, which was anything but Express. It seemed that everyone checking out in front of me knew the cashier and they all needed to chat. The feeling in my arm slowly withered away and I had to wake Ava up to put her in the cart. She wasn't exactly happy about that and she threw a huge tantrum, right there in the check-out line, until I picked her up again and held her. Ridiculous.
When we got home, I took her straight to the bathtub. She got cleaned up and then I tried to get her to eat some bananas and oatmeal, something that I thought might make her tummy feel better. Well...it turns out she just wanted bananas. She threw the oatmeal everywhere. Awesome. I tried to get her to sit with me on the couch and just calm down for the evening. But she threw one giant tantrum after another. So I decided, even though it was an hour before her bedtime, she was going to bed.
In her room, I read her some books and then we did our night time ritual. Turned on the white noise, turned on her ladybug stars, I gave her some water and then I sang her lullabies while rocking in the rocking chair. We do this every night, nothing different. Tonight she decided she wanted to sing with me. While lying on my shoulder, she spent 3 out of the 5 lullabies screeching and babbling. She kept repeating the sound, "tickle, tickle, tickle" until it became "coti coti coti" then something else, then she'd screech. It got to be too much and I just couldn't stop myself, I started laughing, the kind of laugh that you're trying to contain, so your whole body shakes. Then it was over for the both of us...she felt me laughing and she started laughing, and then kept laughing until I laughed again, and then we were both laughing, and I couldn't stop and she thought it was hilarious, and that's all we did for awhile, we just giggled and snuggled. And then she pummeled me over the head with her sippy cup, and head-butted me in the nose multiple times, out of sheer glee, so that I had to hold in my laughs for fear of further physical trauma. Finally able to contain myself, we gave eachother kisses and she fell asleep on my shoulder.
While I was rocking her to sleep, all I could think was ehhh...what a bad day! It wasn't that Ava was "bad" or that I was a "bad mom", it was just the day we were given. That's all. But I couldn't help but think, I would never want to relive today over again! And then I thought about it a little more and ya know what...if God ever gave me a choice, to relive my worst day with Ava or relive my best day without her, I wouldn't even hesitate in my answer. When I am with Ava, even my worst day is my greatest blessing.
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