*** Post Surgery update

This will, hopefully, be last depressing post regarding this miscarriage. This is, after, Evie's website and was designed to be more of a "fun & sarcastic" look at being a mom.... its not me to dwell on big things for too long. Today was the surgery so I shall press on.

We dropped off Eve at T's house and got to the doctor's office slightly early.
Paperwork signed and a small wait later, I'm weighed and led to my section behind the curtain. Strip down and put your stuff in a bag, don a gown and a hairnet, and suddenly I feel like a little girl who doesn't have a clue of what to do next.Is it weird I felt more naked when I had to leave my wedding band at home this morning? I never take it off for anything...
I get on my bed and am wrapped in oven-toasty blankets. I feel better.
The nurse, Ann, asks a lot of questions including, "So how far along were you?" I think to myself, thank God I'm like a rock in these situations... an emotional woman would not handle this so well. And yet I start to cry each and every time a different nurse asks the question, "Why are you here?"
"I'm having a D&C."

Mark, the anesthesiologist, is incredible nice and slightly goofy - I welcomed that.
Another nurse stops by to hit me with a drug to keep me from getting sick to my stomach.
Two more nurses, Stacy and another Ann, tell me they'll be in during the procedure.
Everyone is super accommodating and nice. The clock has, thankfully, zoomed to 11:50AM.

Here's the doctor!
He seems scattered, God I hope he ate lunch.

Things go quick and off I am wheeled.
I never noticed when they slipped me something but as I am being wheeled into the room, my eye roll in my head and I cannot keep my eyes focused on anyone thing. Its like having the spins. I mention this and my words sounds worse than being completely drunk. My mental faculties kind of fight this, someone tells me its to be expected, and then I am in a warm bed looking at a nurses station. I see a clock - its 1:10PM.

I try to fight of the groggies thinking we need to go pick-up Evie soon. I loose the battle and zonk out for another 15minutes.

The nurse who gave me the stomach meds offers a sprite... my mouth feels like a desert.
Someone gets Rob. I wonder what I may have said to him during that time... Its a little fuzzy. I wanted to go home.
Rob helps me get dressed (I manage just fine) and a wheelchair pulls up.
Rob leaves to pull the car around and we wheel down while the nurse and I talk about shoes (Danskos!)... ah, nervous chatter.

Rob drops me off at home and leaves to go get Evie. I finish off leftovers for lunch and zonk out for another hour and a half. Thank goodness Evie took a nap, too... down time for everyone.
This afternoon has been rather simple. No cramping at all. I was prescribed meds but haven't even looked at them yet (me not being one to take meds unless its a near death experience). I've had very light bleeding (hardly any at all - its bleeding like from a cut, not a period). I've eaten a big dinner and I feel... just fine.

Tomorrow, work from home and, soon thereafter, continue life where I left it just over a month ago.

*** DNC - Doesn't mean Democratic National Convention

Today's appt: 11:45AM.
Must get there: 10:15AM.
Must leave home: 9:45AM.

And Evie? Well, either Rob didn't know, somebody forgot to mention/ask, or the sitter never told us - she is out all day today.
Oh great, I can only imagine being a fly on the wall with Evie stuck in a waiting from for upwards for 4hrs. The "procedure" takes up to 30minutes and the "recovery time" can also take upwards of 30minutes.... What's one to do.

Thank God T offered to take/watch Evie while we endure this event.
Hopefully, Evie who is notoriously scared/nervous of any break in her routine, will embrace this day as a fun way to break from going to the Sitter's House.... and see this as a chance to play with a friend.

I'm starving. I can't eat anything before surgery and am only supposed to have clear liquids.
I cheated and had camomile tea... hopefully it counts as being clear enough.

I have 45minutes to kill and I don't know where to begin with killing the time.
Do I watch a show with Evie? Do I surf the web? Do I sit here and wringe my hands like my mother would do?

Clean, clean, clean.

I've been cleaning the hell out of this house this weekend. I had let things "go" in order to remain stress-free during my touch-and-go pregnancy but since it went I decided to make up for lost time. I vacuumed all the rooms, we changed the beds, dusted, cleaned up outside, etc, etc.
I think I was really impacted by "The Velveteen Rabbit" when I was a kid because recovering from any sickness can only be kicked-off by cleaning EVERYTHING. And this past month - feels like a long..., overstayed... sickness.

*** Diary of a miscarriage: day 2 after finding out the news

I found out on Friday, April 30th that our pregnancy had failed. Any post that begins with the "***" is part of that storyline. You can choose to read back to the beginning on April 1st or choose to skip those entries.

By the end of the day Friday I was pouring out blood every time I pee'd. OK, maybe its not quite "pouring out" if it sorta ceased when I stood but it really did look like floodgates to me. Maybe its just floodgates when you are psychologically trained to know that being pregnant and blood don't (or shouldn't) go together. Retraining my brain is challenging: This, is what happens when the baby isn't alive.

I'm sort of stuck in limbo. I have too much work to do (deadlines! deadlines!) so I resumed working from home until 5PM the day I found out. It helps to focus on a task and yet it's so eff'ing lame when some co-workers nag me about some shit I am finding trivial in comparison to my current ordeal.

I don't want to eat. I want what's in there to just die off completely, dry up and go away. I'm mad at it.

Friday night, friends offer to come over for a drink. Its been awhile since I've had a glass of wine... I send Rob to the store to pick-up a bottle of red that I like. Two girlfriends join my on the patio after I put Evie down. I feel normal again... no hidden thoughts about "I wonder how pregnant I am? I wonder if the baby's ok? I wonder, I wonder..." All that wasted time I spent thinking about shit I have no control over. That thought later spills over into a soap box lecture I have with Rob the next day after we go to the Chesterfield Berry Farm. I just let a lot of what I had been bottling up spill all over Rob as he lay there trying to take a nap. Just an "open mouth, pour thoughts" kind of rant. I was pissed. I am pissed. This whole situation goes back farther than just this past month. It goes back to when we started trying one year ago this month. How the f*ck could I be so stupid as to put everything on hold WAITING to get pregnant? I put off planning a weekend away with the girls cause "What if I got pregnant?" I put off buying new clothes cause "What if I spend $200 and then get pregnant?" I put off really planning that trip to Europe cause "Well, we were going to try and get pregnant and I'd hate to waste the time only to be in Europe unable to drink or possibly nauseated the whole time."

So, here I am. One year later. Still, fucking, waiting. And you know what? It goes back to when I had Evie. I got back in shape pretty quickly and then just as quickly I noticed this tummy on me. At first I didn't care figuring I looked good for my age but when it began to spill over my pants... when it began to bounce when I walked, when I started to TUCK MY FLAB into my pants while sitting in a meeting at work I thought, "This is freaking unreal." I looks like shit. So here I am, lookin' like shit, feeling like shit and all this cause I put everything on hold cause I was "going to get pregnant again."

Rob listened to my outpouring in a very sympathetic fashion and simply added: "You tend to try to control the things you can't." And, its true.

Chesterfield Berry Farm - Strawberry Fest!

T took her kid to this when he was 1 year old and it looked awesome (minus the fact that he was maybe too young to really help "pick" strawberries... maybe "mush them on the vine" is more like it). We waited till Evie was a bit bigger to get the concept and this year was perfect!
For $5 each (kids under 2 are free and they let Evie scoot on in for free!) we got a tractor ride to the fields, the opportunity to collect berries all on our own, chance to see farm animals (goats! chickens! bunnies! cows!), and we decided to skip the chance at jumping on large bails of hay (there's been enough pollen in this family's nose!). We picked just over 7lbs of berries in mere minutes ($2 a lb!). We got 2 freshly made strawberry milkshakes on our way out 2 hours later and enjoyed a nice, quiet ride home.
Reconnecting with family over the basics is seriously a weekend well spent.











Evie says to me while waiting for daddy to get the car, "Mommy? I had a good day." She then promptly took over my strawberry milkshake and announced, "Hey! I like dis!"

*** Diary of a miscarriage

So, I have been writing about my pregnancy since we had a positive home test on April 1st. I thought I'd "release" all of my story once we were "in the clear" to do so, but now, with the final diagnosis of miscarriage, now's a good a time as any to post all those notes.

I have conveniently back-tracked and labeled all the the entries pertaining to baby X with "***" in the headline... feel free to go back in time to the first entry on April 1, or, feel free to avoid them cause you don't like potentially sad stories.

Today was our 3rd, and now final, sonogram.
Today was a follow-up to seeing a heartbeat just a week and a half ago.
Today was going to be a day we finally measure this kid to find out a due date.

Rob had to wait in the lobby on this visit since Evie's sitter is on vacation this week (and we forgot when making the appointment). Evie and Rob sat with a pile of books & goldfish in the waiting room while I sat in the sonogram room with video camera in hand. Yes, I had my iFlip with me. I was going to document it all to show Rob later since he was going to miss it while looking after Evie.
The lights went on, I hit "record," and now I can forever remember the words, "You see this here? The yolk sac that was nice and round last time? See how its now misshapen?" That comment then gave way to, "And over here, I just see some tissue and some calcium... I no longer see the heartbeat we saw last time. (pause, pan to the other side) You can see some placental tissue over here..."

I just kept the camera on. Silently. Taping.
I think it was a way of keeping focused on not saying something stupid. A way of treating this situation as a complete scientific situation and not the heart breaking moment it would be moments AFTER the DNC would be over. He looked around for awhile and said a few more things about what he saw. He didn't have to, I saw it all right away, too.
He stopped.
I stopped.

"Well, I guess now's the time where we talk about what our next steps..."
I cut him off.
"DNC. I want a DNC. I don't want to wait for anything, anymore."
He nodded and got exactly what I was driving at. He knew I wanted to be far removed from any part of this situation and to be teleported to anywhere, anytime far, far away from right here.

"We'll talk with Tammy (his head nurse) and set something up for Monday." "Wah-mwah-mwah-mwah," I honest to God heard nothing but inaudible talk after that as he told me about not eating before surgery... about how he knows my body can do this so there can always be another positive situation....
I cut him off again, "When can we try again?"
"I'd like to see one full, normal period and then after that."
"I know its stupid.... and selfish.... but,... I never wanted to have kids too far apart in age."
"Its not stupid! Everyone has plans. Look, we'll get you back on track and if you'd like to talk to a specialist right away to make sure you guys are turning over every stone to ensure a healthy pregnancy, you go right ahead and call."

I start to tear-up cause the thought of starting over has me sick. We've been trying for one full year for this. We tried for 2 1/2 years for Evie. I begin to add up the numbers in my head and question if I ever even want another kid. I question how I've let myself go all this past year instead of focusing ON ME all in the name of " trying to have baby number 2." I'm fatter than I've ever been, I never go anywhere with the girls, I put off a trip to Chicago... my head is spinning. The ferris-wheel of crazies has me captured. I break free. I'm back in the room and my pants are still off while a doctor is talking to me. I nod feverishly to anything he says in the hopes he'll soon leave.
He soon does.
On his way out he adds in a soft tone (trying to be helpful), "You have no dietary restrictions at this point."
"Good," I quickly add, "Cause I plan to get drunk tonight."
He laughs.
I pinch my eyes shut tight to pop out the tears I had been balancing on my lower eyelid, wipe them away and walk out in a very business-like, matter-of-fact sort of way.

I wait for the head nurse at the nurse's station. I tell her flatly I need to scedule a DNC. She offers condolences and I nod (holding back tears). She says she'll call me with a confirmation this afternoon. I turn and there's Rob... totally innocent and unaware of the news I had yet to share. I simply shake my head "no" and he looks shocked. He looks shocked in the sort of way you watched someone swipe a candy bar out of your hands. Sweet and childlike. He was holding Evie... it was hard for me to hold back tears then... but I somewhat succeeded.

I checked out, paid my co-pay and got on the elevator. I joked that I planned to have a drink tonight. Rob suggests Mexican lunch and margarittas. Excellent plan.

In the car, on the way to the restuarant I tell Rob, "You know, I'm angry."
He says he understands.
I tell him, "I mean, I'm 40% sad but 60% angry."
I stew for a short while.
Evie heard me and responds from the back seat, "Mommy? I'm so so sorry, mommy. Mommy? I'm so so sorry."
I finally cried. She has absolutely no idea what impact her perfectly timed words have.
I swallow, wait and thank her.

We get home after lunch to a flurry of nurse calls.
I solidify my appointment for 11:45AM (be there at 10:15AM) on Monday.
Its almost all over.

Miles' Turns 3: A Birthday Party

Let's start with a snack...

Legos are fun!

Everyone gets down to business...

Hide under the table!

C'mon Kendall, join us!

Yes! Cupcakes!

Open presents, teamwork!

Hungry, Hungry Hippos!

Game on...

Time for hugs good-bye!

Group photo time!

*** 2nd Sonogram - follow-up

Rob and I move about the motions at the doctors office rather fluidly after having just been here one week ago. I'm feeling good (since the bleeding stopped) and I'm trying on a positive attitude.

The nurse lists, AGAIN, all of my medical history... "c'mon, c'mon... get on with it!" is all I can think...

I undress waist down and wait for the doctor. He asks about the bleeding, the pregnancy symptoms I may now be experiencing or may have recently ended. I excitedly tell him that I had recently begun feeling more hungry and the bleeding was only 1 day. My boobs still felt big and I just had a good feeling that we'd see something. He seems happy to hear my positive attitude and "dives right in."

I grab Rob's hand.

We see a field of white... then the big black hole... then a splotch of grey floating in the middle with a very small, round yolk sac stuck to it... and a HEART BEAT! This is good, right? I mean, its a little slower than I recall Evie's being (the doctor picks up on my vibe and immediately says, "Remember it starts of slow and gains speed as it gets older...."). I ask how far along I am and he sys he can't quite tell a head or rump to take a measurement. I find this a little odd cause (counting on my fingers) I've got to be at least 7 weeks. I press him on, ""If you had to take a guess on age just simply based on the yolk sac, my period, the heart beat.... what would you say?"
He replies, "The 5-6 week range,"

Hmm, odd. But still, he seems OK with what he sees so maybe I ovulated late or maybe I don't know as much as I thought I knew. I sit back and give in to the expertise and ask when we need to come back. The doctor asks for 10 days (yipes, that's a long time!) and we settle on the following Friday (today being Wednesday). So, 9 days.

9 more days to wait.

*** the 24hr wait

In 24 hrs I'll be sitting in the wait room waiting to go to the doctor's room where I will, again, wait to get a private room in order to wait for the sonogram room...and a chance to see what is happening.
All this waiting, for a very impatient person, makes for a basket-case to deal with at work & at home...

My stats so far:
• no bleeding or cramping all day Saturday (I chalk this up to severe nerves about suddenly miscarrying at a baby shower... I think I actually clenched up so tight nothing could get through even if a miscarriage was in process).
• no bleeding or cramping all day Sunday (is my luck changing? D sends inspiring text messages that speak to this maybe being a threatened abortion that passed).
• no bleeding or cramping all day Monday (I'm actually getting hungry today and some things sound great while others make me sick. Even Rob seems a little upbeat about all this)

*** Research to drive my moods about what may be happening

http://wiki.answers.com/Q/Is_bleeding_normal_for_the_first_six_weeks_of_pregnancy

I read this shit and I think "WTF am I supposed to do? Believe? I'm negative and possible helping cause things to go South with my negative thinking. Then again, am I delusional and pathetic if I attempt to think positively?"

I didn't bleed at all yesterday and I have bled at all (yet) today as of 2PM... Good signs? Or just a temporary tapering off of the inevitable?

Terrible Three's are Upon Us...

We've had no less than 14 meltdowns in a given hour.
Most recent "discussion"?
We watched Tom & Jerry, then Blues Clues, the n the MOVIE (yes, how much friggin' TV is this?) Finding Nemo this AM. Evie doesn't really actually sit during all of this. Its more or less on while we colored and wandered around playing with various toys...
We then went to the park for an hour, played with the neighborhood girl for half an hour and just had lunch.
"Mommy?"
"Yes, Evie (exasperated sigh since she now begins every question with "mommy" and then will ask questions in a scattered, rapid-fire succession. I'm over this after the last 6 hours of questions asked all morning-long)."
"Mommy, I wanna watch a show."
"No."
"I wanna watch Yo Gabba Gabba."
"No, Evie, we need to pick-up daddy from the airport soon. No more shows."
"WHY?!. MOM - MEEEEEEE!!!"
She proceeds to frown horribly and throw herself to the ground as if sacrificing herself to the TV Gods... hoping they may reward this display of complete devotion to the television with a one half-hour sitcom of her choosing.
I walk away.
Evie then follows me room to room crying (real tears!) so that I can truly see what hurt I have caused.
I try and ignore it, cause frankly, we had the same fit over wanting cereal for lunch (which we already had for breakfast), wanting to ride her bike while crossing the street, when we wanted to put on her shirt by herself (after needing me to help her turn it around since it was backwards), and her not wanting me to brush her hair.

Boy, I can hardly stand the anticipation for what the afternoon may bring.
Pins and needles!

Moments later

*** Blood bath...

Everything seems fine when I got up this morning at 7AM. Tom & Jerry, cereal & bagels, shower and make-up.
Rob leaves for his trip... gulp.
A half hour later I pee and look down to see a rather "full" toilet. Its all speckly and sitting in the bottom and its not all that different from a period. *sigh*. 'This can't be good,' I say to myself as I clean-up and again raid the linen closet for a maxi pad.
I send a photo to Rob. Gross? Maybe.
A sign of not wanting to endure this alone? Definitely.

I call my dad and tell him to not hold his breath, it doesn't look good (to me) and I have yet to hear from the doctor.

My boobs are still swollen like I'm pregnant. I read about this online - it can take awhile for pregnancy symptoms to fade. I also read that by still having symptoms that this could be good because the bleeding is just a threatened abortion/decidual bleeding.

Egads, I just want to know so I can move on... either direction this fork of the road goes will be fine... just pick a fork already!

**Update**
I call the doctor and leave a mesage with his nurses at 2PM. I basically tell them to tell the doctor, "I've been bleeding thick, red blood (much like the very first day of a period) everytime I go pee. Go ahead and tell him not to worry about breaking any bad news to me when he does call. I can take it. I'm not feeling very good about this."
An hour later, 3PM, the phone rings.
"What's going on?" he asks.
I provide details... he really says nothing aside from introspective grunts that convey neither positive or negative opinions.
I really do like my doctor. I don't take this any way other then being scientific...
"How was the blood test results?" I ask assuming the worst.
"Well, your HgG levels were good (his voice goes up into a positive upswing. This must be good, then!). They were 1400 (I can't remember the specific 1400+ number). That's a good level that we'd like to see at about your timeline for being pregnant.
The progesterone levels... you'll remember I said we would like to see them at about 15? Well, they were a 7."
I deflate assuming this means I happened to go in for bloodwork at the precise moment this pregnancy stopped thus freeze-framing my numbers as both high and starting to downfall...
He quickly finishes during my silence, "But that's doesn't really tell me what could be going on. We will need to test again and wait & see what happens before we can tell if this is on its way up or on its way down. I've seen people go on to carry healthy pregnancies with a progesterone of 1!"
I babble something here about what should I do next.
"I'd like to see you again in a week. That way we can compare and see what's happening."
Me, "Bloodwork or sonogram?"
Doctor, "We'll do another sonogram and see if we can measure any changes or see any movement. Now, if you continue to have the bleeding and it developments into cramping.... if you pass the pregnancy, then we'll have our answer. Otherwise, we'll just have to wait and see."
Great. So I quickly scribble down notes on my mental chalkboard:
1. You miscarry over the weekend and pass a huge blood clot thus, giving you your final answer.
2. You experience no hard cramping, get to next week and find a non-moving & unchanged in size baby thus, giving you your final answer.
3. You experience no hard cramping, get to next week and find a slightly more developed & larger baby thus, giving you your final answer.

So, at the end of the call, the doctor concludes that I can call him anytime over the weekend since he is on call. I feel very relieved knowing this and I begin to brace for what will feel like a very long wait to see how my 50/50 odds will fall...

*** Sometimes time moves so slow...

Maybe it was the questioning whether or not I even wanted to endure another 9 months of pregnancy...
maybe it was that I kept forgetting my pre-natal vitamins...
or oogling the wines when Rob & I finally got our date night after 5 months of waiting...
or maybe it was that incredibly l-o-n-g walk all around Washington DC Monday night...

I woke up at 7AM to Evie shuffling into the room. I got up. I peed. I turned around after wiping a bright pink wipe... pink water.
"Oh no."
Rob from the bed, "What is it?!."
"Oh no!"
Rob, "No!"
"Yes."
That's it. Its over. I feel like the last 2 weeks have been 2 months of my life.
Between getting really sick over Easter (fevers/head aches. A severe cold or hay fever?), the skipping out on wine night, my birthday, our big date night, traveling to DC for a work seminar.... Gawd, how much longer was I going to have to wait before I could safely make the announcement and how much longer was it going to take to get to December 10th (the date the online pregnancy calculator spat out for me).

I went to the linen closet and dug up pads from when I had Evie... I never use these things and practically forgot how to even line it up in my panties.
I look up the doctor's number... 2 weeks from now was my 8 week confirmation appointment.
Doctor doesn't open till 8AM. I wait. I'm OK. Its cool. Its so early, its not like its some other devastating news that millions of women hear. I play house with Evie while Rob showers - I had informed him that he's going with me.
Rob is done showering and catches me at the moment it begins to hit me. I flee to sob in the privacy of our bathroom during a long, hot shower.
I decide to shave my legs... might as well give the doctor the red carpet treatment for what will ultimately be devastating news, right? I quickly feel stupid for having these thoughts. If you know me well, you know that's me. I pad my hurt with jokes. Only when I'm really upset do I clam-up and withdraw. I'm hardly ever at a loss for sarcasm and words...
Its suddenly, magically, 8AM. I call the doctor and get his nurse.
She asks about cramping - I never have cramping. I inform her I never even felt contractions when I was having them while heading in for a C-Section. I wouldn't know a cramp if I was having one. She says to get in at 9:35AM.
Rob takes Evie to the sitter's, walks the dog, and just as suddenly... its time to go...

As we walk into the doctor's office, I try to beat myself up mentally. I'm so stupid for doing this and that, I'm stupid to think this might not be what I know it is... God, why are you so stupid?!. I tell Rob I was pissed at the pending nervous chatter we'd inevitably share while waiting in the wait room. I also inform him of all the drinks I plan to have as soon as we leave. I quickly map out my afternoon so that I could be on a 5th round of drinks by 3PM... just in time for a nap before we must pick up Evie again.

We get there and quickly advance to the second of three wait rooms. A baby boy with a full head of hair fro licks on the floor while smiling wide for Rob. He playfully waves and I recoil. Go away you fat cherub... can't you see I want to sulk?

The hot nurse walks us in. I get weighed. I swear its 2lbs more than I was when I was just there 2 months ago. We get a room. She, again, goes over my brief medically history and tells me to have a great day while we wait for the ultrasound room. I start to cry. I fight it off. We, thankfully, don't wait long.

I quickly undress in the ultrasound room and Rob banters with me. I have visions of pools of blood suddenly forming all around me while I also try to concentrate to not allow that to happen in a public setting. My brain is fighting with itself.
The doctor softly knocks and walks in asking how I'm doing. I give him the recent overview of spotting... how I just have this feeling its not good since I'm not as tired or as hungry as I *should* be at this point... but my boobs are big so I know I am pregnant. He, thankfully, decided to get on with the show in lieu of playing theoretical games.

We turn on the ultrasound machine and I am quickly thinking back on how awesome this moment was with Evie. How I couldn't wait to be here in 2 weeks and how exciting it is to see that little white outline of a floating mini baby.
I see the big black hole and the doctor skips around it... I begin to think he is sparing me...
The doctor then zooms to the black hole... I quickly scan my memory for all the various prenatal visit photos I had been looking at on the Internet. I know what I should see and I don't see it. I start to go blank.
The doctor says he sees part of a yolk sac in the gestational sac... I ask if the baby is too small to see if it was there. He seems to agree with that sentiment. He then goes back to the big white fields and points out where blood is pooled. He explains it has no where to go - it will either re-absorb or "flush-out". No clue as to why its there and whether or not this means miscarriage. He says, plainly, that he can't call it and doesn't know if this will go up or down from here. I must have looked at him completely blank wanting him to make heads or tails of this. He said, "I'm not trying to sugar-coat this (I quickly cut him off and tell him I don't want it sugar-coated... to give it to me straight-up so I don't spend all night with false hopes)." He finishes by saying to keep good thoughts up while he sends us to the lab for blood work. Progesterone levels will reveal what's happening. If about 50 - its all good. If below, then we talk about a natural miscarriage or DNC. I say nothing. Rob, thank God, reads my mind and asks how long for the blood test results. Tomorrow, he says... and leaves.

I. lose. it.
I have to let it out.
I pull it together and dress for the lab.

The nurse walking us to the lab gives us a pep talk... basically reminding us that the fat lady hasn't sung quite yet.

3 viles are pulled.

And now, we wait.

*** Bleech.

I am literally over-analyzing every single day of this pregnancy so far. Nearly every one of my friend's has a miscarriage story so now, due to the sheer number of people I actually KNOW verses online statistics, is making me flip out that I'll wake up to flat boobs, a perk in my step and blood. I know, I know... morbid and sick thoughts to those of you who have never experienced pregnancy... but probably spot on to those that have (and happen to be insanely high-strung like me).
I did just have a brief wave of overwhelming exhaustion followed-up by nausia. Never thought I'd be happy about feeling hungover mid-day after having no drinks for a month... but... I am. And I also hope I don't feel that way again (but stay pregnant), is that too much to ask?
;-)

*** Prego Partner

Women always joke with fellow women,"Hurry up and get pregnant so we can do it together!"
Little did I know that telling N{name not yet released!} my news the day I found out would lead to her taking a test the very next day leading to her calling me the next night sharing her news, "Guess what?!."
The best part--> I found out first and yet her online pregnancy calendar shows her as due 4 days before me. Ack! Its a race to the finish with this old grade school chum!
(I only wished we lived near each other so we could swap sleepless nights stories over pedicures, alas).
Congrats N!

Little Potty Chair (no more?)

Well, we packed up the car (potty chair, too) and then ask Evie to pee one last time before we hit the road.
Evie runs to the bathroom yelling, "K!" behind her as I hear her race by creating a doppler effect.
Rob yells again, "And go poo-poo!" because, apparently, she's farting up a storm and needs to do that, too.
Moments later (literally, like maybe 10 seconds later) I hear, "Mommy! I go poo-poo on the potty!"
And well, she did.
I don't know if I'm impressed that Rob's got this kid potty-trained to poop on command or annoyed that we cleaned a little plastic potty chair to travel out-of-state with us (and, apparently, she doesn't need it anymore!).

*** Day 2 of having a positive prego test

OK, so the answer is "No," I will not be updating this daily until my secret is out... but everything seems to swirl in your head those first few hours/days... I just gotta get it all out of my head and labeling this as Day 2 seemed an important factor to consider in this timeline way of things unfolding...
Whatever.

So, I ran to Kroger last night to pick-up a few things. I also ran to Walgreens for another test (just to be sure... I took it today... same faint line but its there!). Did you know they lock-up pregnancy tests at the Walgreens in the ghetto? Unreal. I had to ask the pharmacy clerk to walk down the aisle with me and unlock the one on sale (I'm pregnant and frugal)... she asks if I needed anything else before she rang me up... in typically nervous-chatter I am known for, "C'mon, we both know people only buy other things to go with the test to hide the fact that they are buying a test. This is all I really bee-lined in here for.." She laughed, I'm funny - win=win.

When I was running around the grocery store it dawned on me what horrible, horrible atrocities await me with the arrival of a second kid. Diapers... wipes... bottles... bottle cleaning!... pacifiers... pacifiers hitting the floor in the middle of the night... strollers.... snacks.... possible nursing fiascoes should I try it again and keep up with it for awhile.... expensive formula... baby food jars.... and a diaper bag to carry everywhere! AUGH! I just ended ALL OF THAT! Evie can poop and pee on a big girl toilet all by herself now... carries her own backpack with snacks and can totally dress herself. Wah! What have I done? I took my freedom and balled it up in my fist & threw it over a cliff! Two words: Buyer's remorse.
*sigh*

We drove to Greensboro last night (to see my family for Easter) and I also cannot believe I am entering the family battle
zone with no refuge through a glass of wine. Its like running into a hail of gunfire bare-chested. Again, what have I done?
I watched Evie curl up in her car seat and softly snooze the second lat night leg of our trip home. She's all sweaty and hot when we arrive... she curls up against me seeking comfort in new surroundings after dozing in the familiarity of her car seat. Gawd, this kid is so great how will I seriously love a second one? She can't be topped - she's perfect. This kid's gonna hafta breath rings of fire on its 1st birthday to impress me after the awesome baby/toddler legacy Evie is leaving behind.

I start to fall asleep in my parent's guestbed. I'm on my side facing the window. It doesn't take long for me to quickly realize that my days of sleeping enjoyment are numbered and I immediately flip to my stomach.

*** April Fool's ... joke?

Yes, its April Fools' Day and no, its not a joke!
We have an appointment slated for April 12th at the Fertility Specialist... and maybe that's why they schedule you so far damned out ahead... they know when a Type A person is calling, frustrated that they've been trying for a year to no avail. The administrator tells you to come in 6 weeks from your phone call,... you finally relax and stop "caring" about "trying" so much thus, viola! Prego.
I'd like to take a survey and see how often this formula works on people.

So, yes, I have been (once again) inspecting the size of my boobs, over-analyzing the fact that I've had no insane cravings for chocolate, contemplating how often I've felt the urge to pee and wondered if I am tired from hay fever or prego tired. I go through this at least once-a-month so my habitual practices are just part of my pre-menstrual routine. Also part of this psyching myself up & down on whether or not I may be pregnant "this time", I generally give in to peeing on a stick the morning my period is due only to find myself with my period starting 12 hours later. I love to waste money as well as mental energy...

So, last night, I went through 2 empty boxes of pee-stick tests (I try not to let Rob see how often I do this to myself... I hide boxes like an alcholic hides empty vodka bottles) and eventually found 1 last stick. I squirreled it away in the bathroom drawer for this morning.

I peed. I watched. I saw the negative line appear (by-passing the positive line). I laugh AT myself for being so stupid. I flush the toilet. I look again. I see... a very... faint... second line show up in line with the negative/tester line.
You've got to be kidding me.
I grabbed Evie and threw on the Tshirt I bought 1 year ago as the way I was going to make my announcement to Rob. Had she not whined profusely at my removing her princess dress to throw on a huge Tshirt , the moment would have been more fairytale... but having a toddler is never fairytale and our story has never been picture perfect. But that, in itself, is perfect.
So happy today I'm glowing.

*** End of day update, I scooted home from work a little early today. I peed to find that very faint/slightly pink wipe on the toilet tissue known as implantation bleeding. Whoa, I am very early pregnant, but for me, that's the final confirmation... never seen/experienced that before but fascinating to see.

Sassy

I love how Evie is becoming more of a kid. You know, like telling the dog to "shut up!" when he barks or mumbling, "Oh, Jesus" under her breath when I tell her we can't color the pig blue 'cause pigs are pink.
Yup, all actual accounts.

Easter Eggs

After a Sunday morning spent with 2 toddlers painting Easter eggs... I'm left wondering if I even want a second kid.
The mess! The screaming! The fighting.
The constant getting up and getting a juice... a milk? No, a water? Now you have to pee? Oh wait, you spilled something? He took your toy? You can't find your toy? Er... what? Where the hell was I again?!.
Phew! I don't know if I can handle the constant interruptions and the chatter!!!!!! (Its like hanging out with my parents).

The week of sick...

Evie had a runny nose (must be hay fever, right? We learned this last year) but no... its a cold. OK, scratch that... her eyes are "weeping" really yucky stuff (I'll spare you) and her eyeballs are red and scratchy (pink eye)? A doctor visit later, turns out its either a "severe cold" or an unnamed "virus". The gook in her eyes is the 'sickness' that has no where else to go. BLEECH! And I gotta keep this kid home AND entertained.
Check, please!
OK, OK, I felt terrible, too. I'm not THAT unloving, *wink*. But staying home with a sick kid sucks for two reasons: 1. They are horribly cranky and refusing to sit still/nap and 2. You'll now be sick soon, too.
After removing at least .5 - 1 full oz of snot from each nostril this morning (I love Boogie-Suckers) we carted Evie off to the sitter's house today. Good thing, cause now I feel like crap, hooray!

Crisis Averted

Evie eyeballed the microwave (which we notoriously leave displaying the time we last stopped it from heating up an item. It displayed " : 6" for 6 seconds remaining).
"Six. Six. Six," she chanted in a "march. march.march!" sing-songy fashion.
I quickly looked around the kitchen to see what she was looking at.
"Six. Six. Six."
"Don't say that," I find the culprit and hit 'cancel' to get the number to turn into a clock display instead.
"Six! Six! Six!" Evie is smiling and also questioning, "I want to sing the six-six-six song."
I don't want people to think we are Satanic Worshippers,"Can't you a sing five-five-five song?"
"No!"
Thankfully dad chimed in,"Five. Five. Five. Six. Six. Six. Seven. Seven. Seven. What comes next?"
New song destroyed, crisis averted.

Can't believe she is actually typing the words...

... fertility specialist.
But we go mid-April.

Official: Potty Trained

Two months to the day (we started on January 1 and today's March 1), I feel confident enuff to say Evie is officially trained (age: 2yrs +8mos).
The biggest hurdle for us was "Go poop in the potty!" but she seems to have seriously "suddenly got it."
She has bee pooping in the potty at home "OK" for the last 3 weeks but she never would do it at the sitter's (the sitter's house... the biggest hurdle of them all). Tears and fits would last for LITERALLY HOURS before she'd finally "go" but she would poop on the potty for us. In all honesty, the sitter has about 5 babies and just doesn't have the time to give Evie the individual attention required for her 4 hour poop hysterias. Who can blame her?
But, after pooping in her pull-up during naptime last week Friday (at the sitter's house) she developed a very painful diaper rash on her butt cheeks. She cried when she slide off a chair and cried while being forced to sit in the tub. I explained up and down why she had the sore butt. Medicine would help but she just had to go poop in the potty or is would happen again.
Saturday night Rob suggested she try and go poop (this kid's a fart machine). She said "No, I can not!" a popular Evie phrase when she doesn't want to do something. But, moments later she shoo'ed Rob out of the bathroom and just as quickly called him back in announcing she had done it! Yeah!
On Sunday Evie jumped out of her chair mid-breakfast announcing, "I got to go poop." She told us to go away and did everything herself! A few hours later, same thing! Well, actually she ran and brought her little potty to me in my new bathroom so I could enjoy it with her, apparently. She told me, "Two poos!" and up she hopped!

So, I am proud to say - Evie's "potty training" story is finally closed and is a success. I'm not saying there won't be drawbacks... but I am starting to go places with no back-up's (emergency/spare pants and fresh pull-up) in hand.Evie goes sans pull-ups all day now and even wakes us should she accidentally pee at night. This kid is TOPS!

:-)

Wet Paint.

We are in the FINAL STAGES of this stupid addition (master bedroom and bathroom suite). Its been 4 months under-construction but actually dates as far back as 8 months when we started drawings, paperwork and money exchanging hands.
Today: The final coat of polyurethane on the new wood floors.... Evie decides to run onto the floors, stomp her feet while yelling, "Yeah! Shoes on!"
The rule was: you cannot enter the new space w/o shoes ('cause it was under construction and littered with nails/drywall dust on sub-floor). Little did she know the same rule applies to WET POLYURETHANE. *sigh*

...and monkey's pee-pee....

...while entertaining Evie Monday morning (the workers had arrived to install the new wood floors and Rob was busy with them & the dog) we decided to color in our jumbo "activity book"... we decided to play "match the monkeys game" where you have to select the two monkeys that look alike. After finding them, Evie decided to color them in... and to also tell me what she was doing step-by-step:
"Color monkey head... and hands... monkey pants... and MONKEY PEE-PEE!"
*what more can I say? at least she knows where the monkey's pee-pee is, right?*

Polite or Liar?

Eve says ( often!) "I lika [blank]" (lika = likah... as in the word like with uh at the end, it makes anything she says absolutely adorable unintentionally).
She's already caught me off guard while yelling at her by grabbing her forehead to crinkle her eyebrows in anger... mimicking mine, "I lika your brows mommy!"
Today, first thing in the morning, Evie tugs on the ringer sleeve on my shirt to untwist it while saying, "I lika your shirt. Its really nice." I like this shirt - its hilarious that I am wearing my uncle's Tshirt from when he was in his teens... back in circa 1983! My entire family worked for Jeep and the shirt is a UAW shirt from "Solidarity Day - Local 12". Apparently they had big summer picnics where the whole family would come and join in the fun that the union provides (*snicker*).
So, the Tshirt is great vintage wear but its also nearly transparent after millions of washings. The white is about as dense as a piece of kleenex. I wore this shirt in public while in my 20's but I can't do that anymore. My point is - its really not a nice shirt.
So, the lingering question: Are we raising a polite kid or a liar?
But then again, isn't politeness often comprised of false commentary we exchange to one another to be polite? Hmmm....

Morning stealth.

Lately (like in the last three mornings), Evie has figured out that she can climb out of bed (again, we have a day bed turned around facing the wall to act as a kiddy cage), walk down the hall and then walk around our bed to my side (also, again, we have a VERY tight bedroom... like 9.5" x 12" with a queen bed and two dressers... some strategic slinking is required to navigate).
All the while... silent.
On Sunday morning I rolled over thinking I heard her walking around only to find her... Right. In. My. Face.
Wha! SHIT!
That kid was like poltergeist just staring across at me. She's right at eyeball height, too.
I didn't know if I should wet the bed or grab Rob's face as I lept onto his side.
Monday morning I was made aware of Evie's pending presence when her Moo-Cow (blankie with rattle-filled head) made a sorta *scha-shink* sound as she made her way down the hall. Still, is this the new morning routine? I'm not sure I like this.
Visions of millions of midnight wake-ups I did with my mother come flooding to mind... will that be next? Middle of the night wake-ups?
I need to get this kid a kitty collar with a bell.

Poop.

Yup, Evie went "Poo-poo on the potty!" (M&M's and stickers! This is the phrase Evie know consistently shouts out after every single pee-pee on the potty experience... cracks us up!)
So today is what... day 12 (oh, yes, duh, we started on January 1!) of potty training! So, 2 weeks in and she had zero accidents today (she even wore pants with a button and zipper today... no cheating elastic-waited bands) and a poo-poo on the potty! Now, I can't say we are 100% potty trained but MAN, pretty darned successful I think!!!

At last post, we gave Evie Magnesium Citrate on the 7th, after 4 days of no poo-poo's. She went twice that night.
On Saturday, the 9th, I caught her going in her panties while at a friend's playdate -YIPE! Let's NOT go into what a freaking mess that was (oh, the utter embarrassment that is being a mother... I've learned to quickly get over such disasters knowing that a bigger one will be on my near horizon). She pooped 2 MORE TIMES that Saturday (making up for lost time I s'pose) and each time I tried to whisk her to the potty. On the third poop she did announce, "Uh Oh!" moments after it happened but we didn't make it on time (I had learned from the panties incident earlier that morning and she had a pull-up on for the remaining 2 poopies of the day... thank goodness).
Sunday and Monday were.... poopless days. So, as a result of 3 days of constipation, tonight's adventure was met with many, many, many, I honestly cannot exaggerate the stress-levels of many, many tears while telling me "it hurts." It was awful. When I gave her a pull-up to go in she insisted on a diaper... but we have none! So when I offered to lay her down and try to somehow 'help out' in some capacity she cried even more hysterically, "NO! Go poo-poo on the potty!" So, there we sat and watched, cheering her on, and coaching 'cause, as stupid as this sounds, kids don't freakin' KNOW how to poop while sitting down! They've never done this before! So, we told her how to push, wait, count, try, breathe, lean forward... then voila!
Quietly Evie said, "poo poo in the potty."
And there it was!

Potty Training: Days 6 & 7. Poo Poo on the Potty

Really?!. Has it been a week already????
Well, we've survived the first week... and its not w/o its share of hic-cups. I do consider us "cheaters" in this first week struggle, though, since we have sent her to the sitter's house for days 4, 5, 6 and 7..... soon to be 8 tomorrow.
On day 6, Evie did well but was sent home in a spare pair of pants apparently after having gotten some pee-pee on her pants (didn't quite pull them down in time?). Also, no poops. Still.
On the morning of day 7, mom decided to begin her freak-out that Evie was into day 4 with no poops. After calling the pediatrician and hearing all the tricks she had already been doing (fruit juice, fiber, stool softeners, open-door policy so she can watch me, etc. etc.) it was apparent that she was OK and would be OK.... poops or no poops. But, after no poops by 5PM we decided to jumpstart things with a little magnesium citrate. Rocket fuel, if you ask me.
We gave Evie a glass and let her sip, sip, sip away at 2.5oz of magnesium citrate. I began wringing my hands anxiously wanting her to finish so I could put a pull-up on her. I drank this stuff after having NOT POOPED FOR 8 DAYS (yes, can you friggin' believe that? It was after my C-Section and I just couldn't go, it was truly one of the more miserables points in my current life...) and this stuff makes you blast off within mere minutes.
Evie finished sipping and I whisked off her pants right there in the living room. On with the pull-up and wait. I didn't wait long - I saw it -THE FACE...
I scooped up Evie with her crying hysterically, "No mommy! No mommy! No potty! Clean up!" This was basically her way of saying she preferred to poop in the pull-ups. I dunno, maybe it was a wrong choice by me but I wanted to harness this perfect moment by plopping her down on the potty.
I pulled Evie's pants down and *ahem* a mess hit the floor. She. was. hysterical. So hysterical, in fact, that she began to do that deep regurgitation burp that sometimes happens right before vomiting. It was nuts. I did everything from soft soothing voices to telling her it was all OK (smile!) and trying to pet her legs.... all of it was terrible. I finally screamed for Rob to bring a small trash bag and wipes to begin cleaning up for fear she would throw-up all over me from the emotional meltdown she was bringing upon herself...
I had Evie stand up and there was a poop in the potty. Now, how it got there is it prolly fell in the process of taking down her pants, but still,... it was IN THE POTTY! We praised, and praised, and hugged her! We had her flush the toilet and wave good-bye! We told her how proud she should be and how she "did it!" Rob then took her hand and ran her down the hall for m&m's and sticker rewards. I was left with the half-poop on the floor and what was left of my dignity.

Potty Training: Day 4 & 5 (at the Sitter's)

So, Evie went back to a routine of going to the Sitter's house this past Monday (yesterday).
I gave the Sitter a heads up that we were in training... supplied her with M&M's, sticker, sticker chart, directions on how we praise... to be honest, I don't think she did any of it. That's cool. To be realistic, she's raised 8 kids of her own and currently watches around 5 kids (3 of which are babies).... who has time to offer the undivided attention we shower on Evie?
All this being said - I do hope Evie is still feelin' proud, in charge and very in control of her new situation. I feared backsliding when Rob dropped her off on the morning of Day 4.
I called the Sitter near the end of the day on Monday and she paused, "Well, ... its going OK." OK?!. OK? What does that MEAN? She had her hands full and I really couldn't take up too much of her time on the phone so all I got was that Evie had had an accident and spent the rest of the day running around in panties. After Rob picked her up, it was more clear - Evie had started to pee before completely making butt contact with the seat. Ha! That's nothing but a success as far as I am concerned!
Today, Day 5: ACCIDENT FREE and all Pee-pee's on the potty! Who-hoo! (OF course the Sitter said Evie wanted to pee-pee every 40 minutes but HELL, no accidents and all reminding herself? Pretty awesome, I think! I love her enthusiasm, that little girl of mine!)

Tomorrow, Day 6: To poop or not to poop (Evie has NOT pooped in 2 days, what's a parent to do? I'm thinking coffee in tomorrow's milk....)

Potty Training: Day 3 (Have poopie will travel)

OK, we didn't have to travel with a poopie situation at hand... but we did have fun experiences in both areas today.
Rob lemme sleep in again (two days in a row, score!,) since I had taken the brunt of at-home-child-care on Saturday. I awoke at 9:30AM after they had been up since 8AM.
Evie had a full overnight pull-up but wouldn't pee when she woke up. In fact, she hadn't pee'd by the time I got up (but daddy tried at every 15minute interval). Around 9:45AM, we had an accident. We cleaned her up and put on fresh panties. I think she just lost track while playing and I'm gonna put in an analogy here---> I think potty training is a lot like learning how to drive a stick shift car. Once you get on the highway and you cruise along for a long time w/o having to shift, you forget that you need to shift again when you get the side roads. And you, inevitably, stall. Evie seems to have her *oops's* after night-time routines and naptime routines. Its easy to understand and the pee really is never that big a mess, so we simply strip her down and clean her up. Clap, clapping of the hands, ... all done!
The potty time continued all morning long without her really needing me to remind her. I did, of course, ask often, "Do you need to go pee pee?" and she'd replay, "noo!" Soon thereafter she'd announce, "Potty mommy! Go pee-pee on potty!" and we'd meet at the potty where'd I'd help pull things down and listen for the pee's to happen. Evie did this almost all day - her announcing and me following.
Evie took a nap with a pull-up (again, we have explained we put on pull-ups during sleeps for those just in case moments and she doesn't seem to mind or fight it). The pull-up was wet when she awoke.... I know they wake them in daycare to pee but I haven't a clue how we would then get her back down again if we did choose to wake her....
The afternoon continued but this time... with a lot of farts. We asked, "You need to go poo-poo?" and Evie was mortified. Hell, I'm STILL mortified that I, as an adult, have to ask such a question over and over and over again. Its awful for all parties involved, really.
At one point I put Evie's potty behind daddy's desk (a particularly favorite pooping locale) and asked her to sit while I read her a potty time story about a little girl named Prudence that learns to go poo-poo in the potty. Evie loved the story and nodded enthusiastically before standing up and demanding I pull her pants up.
Finally, after having made taco soup for dinner (Evie had a bowl) and stepping out in the new addition with daddy, did we then notice Evie making THE FACE next to the stove. I both ran in to "catch" her in the moment and tried to be casual when I wisked her off to the big toilet. Again, mortified. she kicked and begged, "no mommy! no mommy!" Its awful. Why this kid fears going poop with extreme embarrassment is beyond me cause our household has never been one filled with secretive bathroom moments. We are a rather open household (then again, maybe our openness is what has her embarrassed, lol!).
I pulled down Evie's pants and put her on a kiddie seat that locks onto the big toilet. I think this really freaked her out, but I wasn't about to play with the plastic potty in daddy's office when she has a full (of sh*t!) diaper. She had panties on and when I pulled them down... out plopped a poop. Yes, I said it. A poop plopped itself onto the middle of the bathroom floor while I put her on the seat. I had to then put it in the toilet while taking care of her... and lets cut to the chase... the whole thing was a fiasco I would have never seen myself doing if you would have told me about this moment just 3 years ago. But, you gotta save face and act like its all totally cool when you have a totally freaked out potty-trainer on your hands.
I gave Evie 5 peanut m&m's and biggie stickers for having at least undergone the whole poopie experience (even though it was IN HER PANTS and not ON THE POTTY. I'm thinking the excitement and motivation in seeing how big the reward is for going poopie ON the potty will result in more attempts to make it for the week ahead... we will see...)
Our acroos-the-alley neighbors asked us over for a beer tonight. It was the hour before Evie's bedtime so we weren't sure what to expect... but I did pack "The Potty." I warned the neighbor we are in potty training and thank Gawd they understood (or at least they told me they did) cause here I was at the backdoor with potty, wipes, back-up clothing, stickers and m&m's all in tow).
I set-up the potty in their downstairs bathroom, showed Evie (like a dog) where the potty was and off we played! Within the hour, Evie came asking, "Potty mommy! I go pee pee!"... and off we went... off she went. Everything went great! We did this 3X's total and on the 3rd time, the neighbors 1.5year old wanted to sit on the potty with me and pretend to pee-pee. It was great!
Phew! So, I think Evie's "got it" and its just going to be a matter of time to see if this winning streak continues at the sitter's house all this week. Also, I wonder what will happen with the poop situation.... will she go in her pants or in the pull-up? But so far... I think we are batting a GREAT average and my confidence (and Evie's) abounds!

Potty Training: Day 2

So, today was bumpy but picked-up quick speed and ended VERY (and I do mean, VERY) smoothly!
Rob lemme sleep in today (if you can call fitfull sleeps in between a toddler shouting for the 45minutes you get to lay in bed, "sleeping in"). Rob tells me her Pull-up was very full from last night but that he threw her on her potty (still in the living room) and she went no problem first thing from waking up!
When I got up, Evie had on her Elmo-themed panties and some fleece pants. We ltried to get her to pull 'em down and just "try" but we had many adamant "no! no no!'s" in response. I think she was just kinda scattered and wild with me having just gotten up and maybe feeling like she was in control. You can't ask potty-trainers if they want to go pee... well, sometimes I do. Its all so new to her that asking is still considered a fun invitation to trying. I can see where after she realizes this is her new way of LIFE... this, having-to-stop-having-fun-to-go-pee-AGAIN routine, is really going to bite it soon. We more often choose the, "OK, its been half an hour, let's pull down the pants and try!" routine.
The morning quickly resulted in an "oops!" moment (we call them "oops's!" but always try and still congratulate her for still overall trying). Oops's do happen after all, right? No need for reminders or rubbing her nose in it... pee running down your leg is shame plenty, right? (Right, Fergie?). She had yelled out "Potty!" and sprinted the 10 foot distance to the potty in the living room, but it was too late. Those super fuzzy fleece pants soaked up all the mess (thanks Old Navy!) and her socks caught the rest. We cleaned her up while she sat on the potty. No stickers or m&m's but plenty of hugs and encouragement to not give up.
We then had a l-o-n-g dry spell and I was getting worried. I kept putting her on the potty and she got plenty frustrated with me. But I had to keep smiling and spin things, "Well, we just gotta see if there are any pee-pee's in there, ok? Remember what happens when you go pee-pee on the potty?!." She then will suddenly smile and be excited to play the game again. Evie did, after 20 minutes, suddenly yell out, "Potty!" and run to the seat for me to pull her pants down. She squatted and announced, "I did it!" It was awesome, she experienced the sensation of having to urinate ALL ON HER OWN (with no reminders), ... this is a GOOD moment!
We did put a pull-up on for naptime, and I'm glad we did, because I think it also gave her the freedom to poop. Getting kids to poop on the potty is step #2 as far as I am concerned. Pee is the first challenge, then poop, then naptime, and then bedtime. Its gotta have stages of you can make your kid feel less-than-good-enough if you try to do it all at once (as far as I am concerned!)
Evie did poop in her pull-up (she never did go yesterday) and she seriously looked humiliated and mortified. She sobbed and begged me to not check her. I had to hold her and console her before changing it. The exhaustion this kid from this small set-back did help lead to a great nap. I put another pull-up on her explaining that pull-ups are for sleeps. She fought me at first (she's starting to view them as diapers after only one day in panties!) and I had to tell her it was ok for sleeping... who knows what I'll do when we go out-and-about on the town someday in the near future...
While Evie napped - I escaped the house. Rob said the pull-up was wet when she got up but she wanted panties on and we picked up where we left off!
Evie will sometimes argue with her when we suggest "trying" but for the most part seems to understand we have her own best interests at heart. Successful pee-pee's are announced with aLOT of fanfare, "I did it!" followed by putting it in the big toilet and Evie flushes it away. We get 2 m&m's, a sticker for her shirt and a sticker on a chart I have broken down hourly. She actually LOVES seeing how many stickers appear on her chart. We computer call grandma's to show off the chart and we frequently look at it and count all the stickers...
Up tomorrow: Day 3. I feel good about it but I am beginning to get nervous with how things will go at the sitter's all week given that Evie's is the oldest and most are babies. I bought the sitter a set of stickers and a bag of m&m's (plenty to share with the other kids should they wonder why they can't get in on the action) and I'll make a chart for her to fill in, too.
More overall stance at this point --> Evie seems to be finding a lot of confidence in this, we all seem very happy & patient so far and I'm "worried" about what to do when we have to LEAVE the house.... erg, travel to the store or a friend's house will be our biggest hurdle I think.

Potty Training Boot-Camp: Day One

We have off/on tried pull-ups and goading Evie to try the potty before bathtime. She is familiar but not a fan. She thinks its more entertaining or annoying but not something she's going to have to eventually DO and do her whole life.... so today I decided to push up my sleeves and really get this thing going while I have a 3-day weekend. So much for time-off, I'm on potty doodie (um, duty).
We started the day by watching a Potty Training video as a family. This movie was stupid. It was by the Pull-Ups company and basically said it was OK for this to go on and on has long as it must til she gets it. Yes, yes, I sgree... but this commentator was a little too relaxed in her reminding you to buy more and more Pull-Ups..... more infomercial than information, I think I'll chuck this disc.
So, we started with Pull-Ups and a sticker chart. Evie must sit on the potty every hour throughout the day. Each time she *goes* she'll get a sticker on the chart. She will also get a sticker on her chest and 2 M&M's.
First time on the potty - nada. An hour later, a wet pull-up and nada on the potty. I change the pull-up.The next hour, nada on the potty and again a wet pull-up. OK, I'm all about patience but I'm also about "getting it" so I take off the pull-up and put her in panties & a shirt.
About 20 minutes later Evie runs backward to put her butt on her potty seat, "Uh oh! Pee pee!" A trail of pee from the TV to the potty seat (which I put in the middle of the living room after putting on her panties). I laugh and clean it up.
About 20 minutes later (and a fresh pair of panties on), Evie squeaks across the kitchen floor, slips and falls. She was trying to run to the potty but slipped and fell on her own trail of pee. Wet footprints led all through the dining room and to the toilet in the front room. Rob and I laugh at how its a good thing I never mopped the floor the day before.
OK, we are going to FLY through the 8 panties I have on hand if we continue on this path. So... off with the panties!
We shared house a bare-assed kid for most of the day.
And you know what? It freakin' worked.
We have this waterproof mattress pads we put on the couch and we put towels on the kitchen chair. But we never had a single accident. This isn't to say there won't be some, there might. But today went great! She went 13 times, yes 13 times!
We did have to resume pull-ups when B&D came over with Charlie for a little over an hour... but instead of slipping back that slippery slope... she still announced Pee-pee's and went! In fact, she went 3 times in one 15minute interval (I guess the additional adult approval was motivation to do repeat performances!)
So, now its bedtime and I put a pull-up on her for overnight. I am WORRIED that it won't be strong enough to hold the amazing overnight pee's this kid has but I also fear putting on an overnight diaper at this point in the game. Eh, I guess its a cheap mattress and we'll finally see if the waterproof mattress liner does, in fact, work.
Up tomorrow, Day Two: More of the Same.

First full-tfeature movie in the theater! Yeah!

The Princess and the Frog.
A friend on Facebook talked of her 4year old loving this movie in the theater this past week. After commenting that we aren't ready for theaters yet, this same friend persuaded me to try. Apparently her kid had gone to her first theater movie when she was younger than Evie. She reminded me that all the kids wiggle & writhe during the film... so we wouldn't be standing out in the crowd.
So, I told Rob we were going to go see the latest acclaimed Disney flik.
Rob was torn between wanting to share the experience and wanting to pull out his eyeballs at the sheer thought of attending this film.
Rob and I hate Disney. OK, maybe not all Disney ... just the ultra-conservative bullsh*t parts (which is most of it in recent decades). I also never liked princesses and do not even know the entire story of some hits like "Sleeping Beauty"... I hated Little Mermaid (lame) and I think Beauty and the Beast is contrived. Yet, my daughter, freaking LOVES Princesses lately.
I personally enjoyed Alladin (funny! I know there's a princess element but I liked the Genie), The Fox and the Hound (best friends! Sad ending.... sniff) and Mary Poppins (she's Disney, right? Who knows...)... but never the princess movies.
But if Evie is going to experience her first movie it might as well be a stereo-typical start (cartoon full-feature) and one about princesses to boot.
We raced to make the matinee and asked a mom/daughter to scoot over to make room for us. It was packed. We plopped Evie in between us only to quickly realize... the seat folded-in on her. This heavy kid is too light for theater seats. So, plop, on my lap she goes... and there she sat nearly the whole movie.
We shared a medium popcorn (more like Evie let us have some bites throughout her feeding frenzy) and we shared a coke (I snuck in a sippy-cup of juice for her but she snuck sips of coke where she could).
The last 20 minutes was a struggle. It was that part of any movie where things are starting to get resolved but they also momentarily drag on with bouts of quiet and sad longing... then blam! The movie picks up... Evie has finally relaxed & stopped squirming and is holding my hand (I think she was actually starting to konk out)... and then its over.
Evie's reviews: "I lika da movie. Yeah! Hoffcorn (popcorn)! Frogs. Princess. Hoffcorn."

Tacky Lights Tour

We took my parents to one of the more ridiculously decorated houses in the greater Richmond area this past weekend...

Christmas with the family (Lucy)

OK, so the timing of my posts is off...
but here's Evie with her princess dress on and loving up baby Lucy as we get ready to sit and eat our Christmas bacon-wrapped turkey (yes, that's right. I said "bacon-wrapped." 3lbs of woven pork blanketted atop a nice 13lb turkey so he doesn't get cold while he simmers in the oven). Yes, it was good.

Shut up, shut up, S-H-U-T UP!

I know, I know... Every old person (and yes, you are OLD when you have kids over 18 and you tell people with kids under 5 years of age phrases that begin with, "You think its bad now, just wait until...[fill in blank]"
1. ...they start crawling
2. ...they start walking
3. ...they start talking
4. ...they can get on the internet
5. ...they want video games
6. ...they drive
7. ...they're a teenager
8. ...they join their first gang
OK, whatever.

Point is, yes, yes, yes.... we couldn't wait for her to speak. What an anomaly, parents who want to hear their mute child speak.
It was SO CUTE how she said "mommy" in this helium-induced, nasal-clogged, squeaky voice. It was freaking ADORABLE when she learned how to sing her ABCs. It was AWESOME when she said "Wow!" over everything exciting (and many not-so-exciting things).
But enough is enough now.

The constant repetition of a phrase, question or single lyric to a song while she watches with SHEER GLEE at the slow downfall of my faculties is obnoxious (not to mention borderline sick. I mean, c'mon. This kid is like a Chinese water torture and she EVELS in the joy of it all!). I feel like the The Cask of Amontillado,... in my own head!

I can now see why people my age prefer to dine alone. With no one to talk to. And they are completely content with that.

out! out! damned spot!

So my period has taken f-o-r-e-v-e-r to make landfall this month. What am I.. like... day 36. Erg. I really did try to not consult a calendar for TTC #2. I did *know* when we should have been trying. I remember it very well. We were at my parents and after having gotten caught on the first attempt, forget about it. Plus its my parents... not exactly sexy, unstressful or inspiring.
But that's not really my frustration with this late delivery date...
No idea why its taken so long to arrive but its here and if I now count the days ahead - F*CK IT if it shouldn't come again right smack, dab in the middle of our trip to Maui. GOD HATES ME (as my incredibly pessimistic and irratating father would yell with clenched fists at the heavens).
I did find a fresh pill pack in the very back of the medicine cabinet. Thank you, thank you, self, for having the foresight to stop taking your BC pills after having purchased one last pack. I feel like a nicotene addict who discovered one last drag in old coat pocket...
I am now counting the days on the calendar and working my way backward to figure out when to start pill-popping to achieve my desired effect. Can I get this period to hurry-up now that its so late... rush it along and get in one more cycle before we leave? We shall see, we shall see...

How quickly my inner-Martha fades...

I began this blog with enthusiasm. The thought of capturing all the major (and many, many of the not-so-major) milestones in Evie's life absolutely inspired me. I was going to be the mom of the 21st century... logging countless pregnancy moments & thoughts, multiple baby firsts and keeping all those precious little tidbits for all of posterity (and for the whole world!) to enjoy..
Meh. Your kid turns 2 and then... fahget-about it.
I am now the mom of a 2.5 year old (well, TECHNICALLY she isn't 2.5years until 4 days from now) and I can seriously say I am an older, wiser mom. I can now reflect on those *eager* days of doing everything (of being the bast damned supermom this world has ever known!) with a giggle as I watch my other, more recent mom friends attempt similar feats with their young'uns. Oh how funny we must all look as our own mothers look on at us. Our mothers who set-out to keep detailed baby books, keep organized photograph albums, video tape every recital and keep all those A+ school papers. They, too, eventually fizzled out... and we later lamented about it when we then got married and talked about how "we aren't going to fizzle out on our kids!"
I know my mother would be biting her lip till it bled if she actually got on the internet and read this. I could see her enthusiastic nod in my mind...
Some of my mom friends never set the bar as high as I did and we all eventually even out with them realizing maybe they should keep this or that cause the memories will fade... while I learn to not be compelled to take a photo of Evie each and every time she is on a swing (I mean, 3 days in a row can really prove to be captured moment enough). We all eventually settle into a comfortable groove of what is important (ok, so organic milk might stay on the menu for some but organic Oreo's is ridiculous.... washing clothes in baby soap can be skipped and so can washing out the tub before each and every bath.... and the food on the floor probably is OK cause she's FINALLY EATING SOMETHING, right?).
I did put down the baby book when Evie hit 1 year old. enough was enough. Evie's baby book is not nearly as detailed as mine was (only child here) but I thought it was more important to have a fairly complete book as the standard so if we have another kid... I don't make myself crazy with trying to keep up with 2 kids while maintaining baby book #2. I hear too many stories from the 2nd, 3rd, and 4th kid from larger families who all got the shaft on a baby book since mom had zero time to maintain when when he/she came into this world...
I also never did a photo album. Who looks at those anymore? This is the digital age, kid. I don't remember my mom making me relive her childhood memories with the old brownie camera days so why make my kid live my childhood of limited 24 pics to a roll kodak film? Its all on disc, baby.
I'm also now finally cutting myself some slack on this blog. I mean, I'm not a terrible mother for not writing it all down, right? The way Evie says "Muhrie Crimas!" instead of "Merry Christmas!" or how she says,"Aw, man!" perfectly when something doesn't go quite right. Its OK that I am not cataloging everything anymore, right? It just means I'm enjoying them more... I think. there's something to be said about living in the moment, too. and maybe that's something else the mothers of older kids are eagerly nodding their heads and biting their tongues over, too, as I evolve and get to realize this now after 2.5 years...

Christmas-time with neighbors

Our next-door neighbors really are great. A married later-in-life couple that have no kids... he's in his 60's and her in her 50's. They both work, work HARD on up-keeping their house and work hard taking care of their elderly parents who live nearby. They are the kind of neighbors you can be catty with, stop over completely uninvited to ask for a favor and the kin our have every single tool imaginable that we've borrowed at least twice.
They asked us to stop over this week because the husband had "bought something for Evie this past summer and it was impossible to wrap."
My interests are peaked.
We swung over at 7PM, already a potentially disastrous hour given the very nature of Evie having uncontrollable energy at/around 7:30PM until she collapsed at 8PM.
Tonight was no different.

After Evie began spinning on her back on the kitchen floor, it was time to give her her present.
A life-sized (well, life sized to a toddler!) stuffed pony that made clipclop noises on the chip in its ear.
OK, yes, I teared up. I mean, my God... who the hell does such a nice thing for a freaking neighbor. Talk about your generosity during the seasons. That was way too nice.
My watery eyes came to a quick halt as Evie (instead of saying "WOW!" like we had prepped her to say) vehemently defied touching it. She marched through the house and wouldn't even look at it. Dear God how being the parent of a 2-year-old is both a humbling & mortifying experience.
Rob and I explained away her rude behavior as her being tired, her being too hyper, her just being 2... all of the above being true. The neighbors understood and laughed.
Evie would eventually sit on the horse, grasp his neck and pretend to ride him (phew!) but the moment was later truncated by her then spinning on the kitchen floor, on her back, legs spread eagle announcing "I fart" as she patted her butt.

Caught!

We are currently at my parents' house (in NC) and will be here through the weekend. We typically drive in at night thinking Evie would sleep, the traffic would be light and the time I'd have to request off from work would be minimal.
We rolled in last night around 9PM.
Evie did sleep on the trip but posed a bit of a problem when we got here. Once up, and in a foreign place, it can be scary to fall asleep again... alone... in a wierd room. After many frustrated tears and crying, she was out by 10PM and she flailed around till 10:30PM. Finally - we could go to bed now, too. And, although it wasn't that late... a full day at work and a road trip with a dog & a toddler can wear the most energized of parents OUT.
So into bed we rolled. And, to be blunt, randiness was to be had.
Hey, we are old, tired parents but we aren't dead.
And, I know this is Evie's baby blog but since this act typically leads to babies ...it seems fitting that I profess my utter horror and humiliation that my father... caught us. I know, I know. Mortified.
The door was closed (which is more fore-thought than I can say from some of my more stupid dating days) and we heard a soft *knock* *knock* on the door. I thought he'd take the hint and go away when the light rapping was met with our profound SILENCE. *knock* *knock* louder.
We must have not heard him, right?
Still silence on our end as we decided to start looking for articles to save our modesty.
*knock* *knock* *knock* Yes, surely they will hear knocks in threes.
Ok, he isn't going away and he WILL be coming in if we don't respond. "Yes?"
Door opens. Our eyes peek over the covers.
"I need my nasal spray [hand pokes in from the door crack, grabs a bottle off the nearest dresser and disappears. Door closes. End scene.]"
*sigh*
How should one feel when caught, while married, in the parental homestead?

Happy Day, Duncan!

3 years old!