The Happy Science Experiment

notice will be posted

2010-11-04T20:23:00.002-05:00

When we found out Lydia was coming, I started the HappyScienceExperiment blog in secret so I could still write out all the crazy even while no one else knew I was pregnant, then I kept the blog up once she -- and Sam! -- arrived in order to keep all the kid stuff in its own separate place from the exciting, non-kid stuff on my regular, domain-owned site crunchythoughts.com.

Once you have two kids, though, there's not much non-kid stuff happening worth writing about save work, and I'm not going to really touch on that despite the awesome material that lies therein.

So. Consolidation. I've copied over all the posts from here over to the CrunchyThoughts site, and we shall be one blog again forevermore.

So head on over there for Sam's five-month update, Halloween pics, and more!

the no good, very bad week: a tale in three parts

2010-10-24T13:36:00.005-05:00

Crisis #1.

Last Sunday was going along pretty normally. It's typically Laundry Day around here, so we buzz around the house, doing chores, watching movies and eating snacks. That afternoon Sam was having just such a snack while The Husband and Lydia were entertaining themselves with a book or somesuch in her room when suddenly . . .

Ka-doosh! The entire contents of Sam's dinner comes right back out of him and up onto me. Keep in mind I'm still nursing this child, so I was at point blank range. It came up through his nose and mouth. He looked as shocked as I was. He also looked NOT DONE.

"Whoa!" I exclaimed, hopping him up in my lap just in time for another wave to hit as The Husband came running in to see what all the hubbub was about. EVERYTHING came up, all the milk that he had consumed that day. It was downright freaky to see an infant throw up like that. Lydia never did this with us. This . . . this was new.

After we all got cleaned up Sam seemed a bit exhausted from his little event so he napped in my arms for a while. I tentatively let him nurse again a bit later and he kept it down then slept some more. Maybe it was a one-time thing.

Oh, alas. After his next feeding, he threw up again as Lydia shouted, "Eww! Milk! Messy!" We knew I would be calling the doctor the next day. Something seemed to be amiss.

Monday came around and Sam seemed like my normal baby boy again. He kept down breakfast and when I spoke to his doctor's office on the phone they said just to watch him to make sure he was wetting diapers and bring him in if he throws up anymore. There was none of that, however, and we sat on the couch, watching documentaries and episodes of Mythbusters.

Crisis #2

Back at work on Tuesday, I was glad to be getting back to my normal routine and ready for a calmer week. That evening The Husband was planning on going out to dinner with some co-workers from his office so it was going to be just me and the kids. Near the end of the day I was mentally planning dinner in my head while heading toward the front office to leave when a co-worker told me I had a call waiting.

And it was The Daycare. Uh oh. Lydia fell . . . I hear "Lydia fell" a few times and I remember waiting for the other shoe to drop -- I thought her arm was going to be broken. Lydia fell and busted her head on the floor . . . she's okay . . . she might need a stitch. A stitch. Stitches. STITCHES.

As my mental gears shifted into Child Recovery Mode my first few drafts of the afternoon actually involved just me getting the kids, then the stitches, then home so The Husband could still have his night out. Then I realized that might be silly and after I got everything worked out, I had an appointment in hand for Lydia at Children's Hospital, The Husband would meet us there along with his mother so she could take the now non-barfing Sam home.

Off I go to The Daycare and there is Lydia right in the front office, happy as a clam from eating all the M&M's she wants and a small gash of sorts on her forehead. To tell the truth, it looked worse to me when I saw it than what I imagined over the phone. I mean, yikes.

Children are gathered, Lydia gets a temporary Band-Aid, and up we go to Children's off of Acton Road, where I first run by a McDonald's since a hungry Lydia is an extremely ornery Lydia.

Being two years old, Lydia is only so willing to cooperate with ordeals like this. Thankfully there were awesome toys in the waiting room, and Wi-Fi for The Husband. Once we entered The Room Of Serious Business, however, there are no toys and Lydia ups the uncooperativeness level. Even the Spongebobs on the wall cease to amuse her.

Lydia ends up receiving three stitches. How do you give a two-year-old three stitches, you ask? Why, you strap her down to a papoose board! Ohh, can you just hear the screaming? My poor sweet baby girl, she was just beside herself with fear. It was horrible. The Husband and I both tried to talk to her and sooth her the best we could but the situation was just too alien and Lydia was just too young to truly understand. It took between ten to twenty minutes to stitch her up, but to all of us (the doctor and nurse included) it felt like an hour.

Once Lydia received her Badge of Honor and was unstrapped she was much happier in The Husband's arms while eating some Teddy Grahams and apple juice. I was mentally shot and was using the rest of my strength to keep from dissolving into tears. Can you believe my first thought was to go through this by myself with Sam in tow??

"What a horrible day," I mumbled to The Husband as I crawled into bed beside him that night.

Crisis #3

Remember Sam and the throwing up? Okay, good. Just checking.

It's Friday, I'm at work, finishing up my lunch at 11:00 a.m. because I'm starving. I get a call; it's The Daycare -- Sam's teacher. Sam's throwing up, continuously, everything came up, and now he is dry heaving. I call the doctor and set up an appointment for 4:00 p.m. and head off to get Sam.

When I arrive, his teacher's in the process of changing him out of his third outfit of the day, and he is PALE. I have never seen someone so ghastly pale, and here is my son, my baby four-month-old son, white as a sheet. I scoop him up and hold him in my arms. He is limp; absolutely exhausted from heaving, but five minutes later he has another wave of dry heaves.

I am pretty worried, and I'm also thinking that 1) I'm not waiting until a 4:00 appointment, and 2) I can't drive the 30 minutes to his pediatrician alone with him in the backseat, worried that he will have another wave of dry heaves and start to choke on the bile he's forcing up.

I call The Husband and ask him to meet me at The Daycare so we can ride together to the doctor, then call the doctor again to explain how Sam looks and they say I can head right up there.

It takes The Husband a good 30 minutes to get there and it's a long 30 minutes indeed. Sam looks worse and worse while I'm there waiting, and I amend my plan again for us to head to a closer satellite office of the pediatrician once The Husband arrives.

He finally gets there and we zoom to the satellite office with me in the back, perched oddly on Lydia's carseat monitoring Sam.

At the satellite office they check Sam over to make sure he's responsive and has good oxygen levels, and a nurse talks to our regular office to make sure we can be brought to our pediatrician as soon as we arrive there.

Off we head to our regular doctor's office and are immediately brought back into a waiting room. Finally, after a few hours of poking, blood-taking, and a urine sample (obtained via sticky baggie), we had a diagnosis: a urinary tract infection. He most likely has had it all week, poor baby.

We head home with a prescription for an antibiotic in hand and a happier outlook ahead. Diagnosis made! Problem solved! All's well that ends well . . . right?

The entire family eventually gathers back at the house and it's decided that Lydia can still go to the Fall festival that The Daycare is holding that night along with The Husband and his mom. That way The Husband can retrieve his car that was left there earlier in the day, and I will stay home with poor Sam.

Our first attempt to give Sam his medicine fails miserably -- he barfs it right back up before The Husband even finishes giving it to him. Well, I can't blame him too much. He still must be feeling quite unsettled and the medicine didn't come in breastmilk flavor. Off go Lydia (dressed as Frankenstein, of course), The Husband, and Grandma to the festival while I figure I'll attempt the medicine again along with a milk chaser.

On the second attempt of the medicine, the addition of the milk to help make it go down did no good at all. Everything just came right back up and Sam looked miserable again. Well, this was doomed to failure. I called the after hours nurse, who agreed that this just wasn't going to work, and I quickly found myself for the second time this week heading up to Children's Hospital.

The Husband met me there (Lydia went home for the night with her grandparents) with a now-wailing Sam. His vitals were taken and we were given some Pedialyte to give him, but he would have none of that. After a bit, they asked us to try some milk, which Sam was much more willing to gulp down. More blood was taken, this time a whole mess of blood via a vein in his arm; and another urine sample was retrieved, this time by a catheter. Poor Sam was starting to look a little distrustful of us.

These tests told us again what we already knew; they were just trying to figure out whether or not they wanted to admit him into the hospital. By the time the urine test came back Sam had eaten a few times so it was decided that if he did not throw up any more, they would give him a shot of a decently potent antibiotic to bypass his unsettled stomach and we would go for a checkup in the morning. Thankfully, Sam kept everything down, so the shot was received and we finally left a bit before midnight.

We all slept in a bit the next morning, even Sam, before finally dredging ourselves out of bed for one last doctor's visit. Sam already looked ten times better and the doctor was pleased with how he was doing. We finally left to gather Lydia and head over to my father's house to have a normal, football-watchin' afternoon.

Epilogue

And if I ever see a doctor's office again, it'll be too soon, right? Well, yeah, but that doesn't mean we don't have any plans to go back.

Though Lydia's stitches are dissolvable, we go back next Tuesday to have them removed in order to decrease any scarring for her. She probably will always have some sort of scar there, however. The way she's been tripping and running into walls this weekend, I also suspect they won't be her last set of stitches, too.

As for Sam, it is apparently rare enough for a young child to get a UTI so that when it happens, they have to go in later for additional testing to see what, if anything, caused the infection. In many cases, there is a congenital reason that causes the urine to back up into the kidneys, creating the UTI. So, in about a month or so, Sam will find himself back at Children's Hospital, undergoing some testing of his renal system to see if there was any specific cause of his infection. If there is, then we shall cross that bridge when we get to it. I can't worry much more about it now.

As for today, I am just thankful that my children are happy, healthy (or getting there), and cute.

sugar, SPICE, and everything nice (extra SPICE)

2010-10-13T20:22:00.003-05:00

In the twenty minutes this morning between Lydia arising from bed and us walking out the door, she had to have two separate timeouts in order to get her act together. There was the offense of Repeated Refusal to Wear Fresh Pull-Up and the offense of Repeated Refusal to Put On Socks and Shoes. Thankfully, Sam was willing to wait patiently while the punishments were carried out.

'Timeout,'by the bye, is an ingenious little thing. We have set a small floor rug by the couch and have christened it the Timeout Mat. If she needs a timeout -- and this is rare indeed; we've only used it four times so far -- we set her down on the mat for a few minutes. She screams and hollers but does not budge from the mat. It will be a sad day that comes once she realizes the power of the Timeout Mat is not as strong as she thinks.

Her behavior apparently continued during school today. I had a note on her paper this afternoon that read, "Lydia forgot her walking feet and inside voice at home this morning." Whoops, with all the timeouts, I forgot to stick those in her bag!

sputnik; four months in orbit

2010-10-03T07:05:00.002-05:00

Samwise is scooting right along the calendar of time, turning four months old yesterday. Tomorrow I will get a doctor-certified length and weight on him when we go for his four month checkup. I'm guessing 16 pounds. My father has a bet in for 18.

Sam's schedule has stayed pretty steady this month -- he sleeps from about 9:00 p.m. to 5:30 a.m.'ish. After that ravenous morning feeding he is a happy smiling boy, talking to The Husband and I in loud cooing noises. Mornings are his favorite.

The evenings, however, Sam would rather do without. There's a period around 6:00 p.m. that is referred to around the house as the "fussing hour," which is sadly longer than advertised.

A few weeks ago, drooling started in earnest, but if he's anything like Lydia, I am not expecting teeth for a while yet. Just tons of drool for a few months. Probably about time to break out the bibs.

Checking back at Lydia's four month post, she was rolling over by then. Sam is just nowhere close to that. Now I'm all second-guessing myself. Should I be doing more tummy time with him? Should I be in his face more? We tend to keep him in his papasan seat since Lydia is running around the house full-tilt and is occupying 90% of our attention. When The Girlie was four months old I would realize daily how much she was changing, but with Sam I still see the little baby compared to his older sister who talks about the potty and can count to three.

The older Sam gets, the more he will enjoy interacting with toys and other paraphernalia. Unbeknownst to Lydia, a lot of her old toys have been stored in Sam's closet, just waiting for him to be old enough to enjoy them. One by one as they come back out to play, Lydia is going to have a fit over each and every one, and she will experience the darker side of siblinghood -- sharing your old stuff.

She got a taste of that the other weekend when we put Sam in her old Bumbo seat. Her old PINK one. Hey, those things cost too much money to buy another one over the color.

Last weekend, it was Cousin Elizabeth's birthday. Next year Sam will be able to run around with the girls, but this year he worked on conserving his energy.

Here's a gratuitous photo of Sam's feet, since I'm still so amazed at his long feet and toes. Apparently Lydia is, too.

And now we're to October, which is always a happy time for me. We can usually say goodbye (and good riddance) to the 90 degree weather around here, and the holiday season approacheth -- Halloween, Thanksgiving, CHRISTMAS. We already have an idea for Sam's Halloween costume, we just have no clue for Lydia. I suppose we have our homework set out for us this month: for Lydia, a Halloween costume; for Sam, work on rolling over!

sputnik; three months in orbit

2010-09-04T22:20:00.000-05:00

Sam is now three months old; a quarter of a year! When you're eating and sleeping, time can really fly by.

Poor Sam, he's definitely the Second Child. This month I really began comparing him to Lydia and her Awesomeness of Sleeping Through The Night At TEN WEEKS OLD. She started one night at ten weeks and never looked back. Sleeps through hurricanes, that one.

Sam is a trickster and likes to mess with my mind. The ten week mark came. It went. Sam was still popping up promptly at 2:00 a.m. for that bleary-eyed feeding. I began to wonder if I'll find myself up at 2:00 a.m. until he goes off to college.

Into his 13th week he slept through the night in the sense that he didn't require a feeding. A bit of cuddling was needed but, hey! a step in the right direction. The next night, however, he decided cuddling just doesn't cut it and back to 2:00 a.m. we went.

A week later, Sam did his trick again, but only for a night. It was not until his 16th week he started sleeping consistently through the night, and that's only been eight or nine days in a row now, so let's not jinx this too much yet. Even now I wonder: will I get a full night's sleep tonight??

Another sibling difference is in the paci department. Lydia was (is) a paci kinda girl. We've whittled her down to naps and nighttime, but God help us when she was a bit younger and we found ourselves out and about and the Paci Cannot Be Found.

Sam is incredibly fond of his left thumb, a habit I'm trying vainly to break him of. It's one thing to wean him off a paci in a few years, but you can't tell him to put his thumb "night-night" when he wakes up in the morning. I will admit, though, it does help during the night. He can't lose his thumb like Lydia did her paci. I have found myself on my hands and knees in the dead of night many a time hunting for that little treasure, her piercing cries cutting through the dark.

His smiles have broken out in full force this month. He coos away at me in the morning while I do my multitude of things in the morning before we all haul off to our respective places. Sam seems to be a morning person like Lydia (you just can't help but compare the two all the time, it seems) and he prefers to be where the people are. That seems to suit Lydia just fine, who was positively thrilled when Sam had some tummy time on the floor with her.

The past few days the weather has decided to bless us with a slight decrease in humidity -- it's September and football is approaching. Sam is spiffed up in his Auburn finest and looking a bit like his Uncle Jason. It took me a while to be able to get his picture without his sister in the frame.

dramatic taco

2010-08-25T20:47:00.002-05:00

Lydia is really turning into my little drama queen. She is realizing that she can 'pretend' in order to get a specific reaction out of others, especially me.

I first realized this about a month or so ago when we were watching cartoons on a Saturday morning. It was The Backyardigans (darn it, now the song is in my head), and it was the first time Lydia had seen the show. Suddenly, she sat down on the floor, fell back with her head hitting the hardwood, staring straight up at the ceiling.

Well, I freaked. My God, I thought she was having a seizure. I got over to her quick as a flash to find her fine and smiling at me. I'm all, "Do you need some water? Milk? Want me to hold you?" It was only later that day we figured out her game when she did the same thing four or five times at her Grandma's house, grinning slightly.

This week she's picked up a new Drama Moment: pretending to pout when we get to the bottom of the steps before climbing in the car to go to school. As soon as we're off that last step, she turns toward the corner, hangs her head and shoulders and waits for me to notice. Once I come tickle her or pick her up, she's fine, but if I waited in the car for her, I'd be sitting there until the cows came home.

Once we get to school, she has another Drama Moment with one of her classmates. They apparently growl back and forth at each other all day while I'm not around, but at that first part of the day Colin (which she pronounces more like 'Cognac') comes running up to her, hands up like a dinosaur: "Rawwwwwrrrr!"

Lydia turns into me, melting into tears, though we all know she'll be growling back at him in five minutes' time. She just needs to try out her newfound drama skills.

Poor Colin just looks confused at the reaction. Girls: you won't figure them out at two; you won't figure them out at sixteen.

sputnik; two months in orbit

2010-08-02T05:39:00.000-05:00

Today Sam turns two months old, but he looks about the size of Lydia at four months old. During this past month we have found out that Sam likes to EAT. Holy moly, he can put it away. Even now I can hear him beginning to wake up behind me, smacking his lips in anticipation of his next meal. He has already doubled his birth weight -- he did that a few weeks ago. His next goal is to surpass Lydia's weight.

Due to all the growing, he's quickly busting out of a lot of clothes. Just yesterday it took me three tries to get an outfit on him; the first two wouldn't go over his head. Anything smaller than 3 months just isn't going to cut it, and the 3 month sleepers won't last long. We'll be shopping in 6Ts before Christmas.

Sam has been more awake this month but, as with Lydia, he isn't sure what to do with himself when he's awake but not necessarily hungry, so he defaults to fussy. This time, The Husband and I are from the Been There Done That Club and early in the month we preemptively ditched the swaddling for footie jammies at nighttime, which has resulted in much less screaming.

Don't get me wrong, there have been some wonderful gassy episodes, but they don't seem to last as long as Lydia's did (*knock on wood*). Sam's gassy times will consist of ten to fifteen minutes of crying, followed by a fart and more whimpering into sleep, then he'll start up with some crying again to repeat the cycle, which goes for about an hour or two.

Last week Sam started attending daycare with his sister. Everyone there was excited to finally have him. So far Sam seems fine with it -- he especially loves all the fantastic swings they have. I usually find him conked out in one when I come to pick him up.

Lydia is loving him more and more. When she hears him fuss she goes a-running, she hands him his paci and his blanket whether he needs it or not, and if we're about to go home from a visit with someone she becomes quite insistent that Sam must be put in his carseat RIGHT NOW and she'd rather do it herself if we would let her.

Sam isn't going to care so much about the cats or even rely on The Husband and I to entertain him when he's older. He's only going to have eyes for Lydia.

sputnik; one month in orbit

2010-07-05T06:39:00.002-05:00

And just like that, Sam is one month old. Time flies triple fast when you have two kids nipping for your attention!

This first month, caring for Sam himself has been relatively easy. Now that Lydia has been putting us through our paces for the past few years, newborns are a piece of cake. Sam doesn't roll, crawl, or run away from us; he doesn't require specific foods that he is craving at that very second; no entertainment needed other than cuddling; and no backtalking. All Mr. Samwise needs is milk at three to four hour intervals, a regular change of diapers, and a snuggly spot to sleep.

The New Thing (tm) to learn has been the coordination of two children when leaving the house or navigating some place other than the home. It's not just Lydia's well-worn routine that we fall into when preparing to leave -- diapers, extra paci, juice cup, blanket, child, LEAVE -- there's a blend of routines we try to fit in together . . . and sometimes the two-year-old is impatient. Now it's more like: feed Sam, change Sam, is Lydia dressed? okay, pump, make bottle for Sam, Lydia has pineapple juice on her shirt, change Lydia, gather diapers, juice cup, emergency paci, blanket, get Sam in carseat, Sam's mad -- feed Sam again?, feed Sam, where's my shoes? Lydia ran off with my shoes, get shoes, bags in car, kids in car, GO!

And then we're worn out before we get to where we're going. Whew!

Thankfully, most of our outings have involved just Sam and myself -- at least when we're leaving the house. We head out each afternoon to pick up Lydia from daycare, and we've conformed that into an art. Sam has a lot of admirers in Lydia's class when I tote him in with me to get the girlie. They all come a-running to see Sam, pulling down on his carseat carrier to get a better look at him and give commentary.

"He sleeping!"

"He paci!"

"He night-night!"

"Sham! Sham! Mommy!" Lydia hollers when she sees us. Then in the car we go to head home where Lydia will start up a movie (lately, The Iron Giant), and Sam eats again or I start dinner, depending on the fussiness level.

Though their birthdays didn't end up being on the same day (praise the Lord), they are still only three weeks apart, and Lydia celebrated her second birthday last weekend. Many people were there to celebrate with her and meet Mr. Sam as well. His cousin Elizabeth felt he would look more distinguished with some Potatohead glasses.

Something tells me this year will go by quite fast. Just one year ago, Sam was a twinkle in his Daddy's eye and Lydia just spoke her first word -- "Uh-oh." Now Sam's dozing in my arms (one-handed typing FTW) and Lydia is chanting, "Spongbob, Spongbob!" from the living room. Thanks for that, Uncle Kevin.

two-year-old taco

2010-06-23T13:17:00.002-05:00

Miss Lydia turns two today! Oh, what all can change in another year! Despite the cute outfit I had saved for her, she was not ready to face the day this morning. Even the promise of cupcakes later in the day could not bring her to smile.

One year ago, Lydia was yet to walk or to speak. When I look back at the pictures, I'm amazed by how much she still looks "baby-like."

Now Lydia has mastered walking -- and running -- quite well and is learning something new in the language department every day. Her newest language skill is putting together small sentences, like, "No no no no NO MORE, Daddy!" She also gets a kick out of phrasing the word 'No' very sweetly, starting low then raising the pitch in a cute fashion as if she were asking a question. I have to admit, it does make it easier on the ears.

As with any toddler, she is notoriously picky in the food department. She still has her love of tomato-based pasta dishes and certain fruits that I probably rely on too much, but anything else is not a sure thing. Surprisingly, the food group I have the most problem with is meats. I will have much more luck with green beans, corn, and broccoli than a hot dog, hamburger, or any type of chicken. There's probably two or three actual dinners that I cook for The Husband and I that she will eat as well. I wonder when this will change?

Then there's her hair. Ohh, how her hair has grown! I do wish she would let me fix it up more than she would; it is wonderful to run your hands through. Most days now she comes home from daycare with her hair done up in some form or fashion -- she trusts someone at daycare enough to mess with her hair. One afternoon she came home with two French braids in her hair; now that takes patience! Ohh, how it curled when we had to undo them.

I think I have an artist on my hands. Lydia is all about anything to do with paints or crayons -- "colors," as she calls it. I'm finding I have an OCD streak when it comes to crayons that I didn't know I carried, and I cringe when crayons and chalk get broken or the tips get worn down. This will be a cross I'll just have to bear, for Lydia will use her colors any way she wants.

Just in time for Lydia's birthday, Sam arrived. Whether they will be very close or not, I just cannot know. Lydia will check on him when he begins to fuss (sometimes she beats me to him) and she sounds excited when she sees him and says his name -- "Sham! Sham!" she exclaims. Though she still doesn't like seeing her daddy holding Sam, she is content enough with it if she can get equally close to him.

Now we begin another year with Lydia, who I'm sure will change as many times again as she has during the past year. It has been breathtaking to see the world through her eyes and I am ready for more.

the launch of Sputnik, part IV (orbit)

2010-06-18T09:56:00.002-05:00

We have been home with young Samuel for about a week and a half now and things are slowly beginning to find a new normal in our new household of four plus two hungry cats.

On Sunday afternoon Lydia arrived a few hours after we did, and here came The Moment I had most anticipated and slightly dreaded ever since I had seen those two pink lines way back in October. Oh, what would she think?? It turned out, Lydia wasn't going to care one way or another until SOMEBODY put Shrek in the DVD player. "Shrek! Shrek! Shrek!" she demanded.

Once Shrek was on and she settled down on the couch was she finally willing to look over and see what I had. "A baby!" she exclaimed, and she pointed at Sam. "Baby!"

"This is your baby brother, Sam," I explained.

"Sam," she repeated while nodding. "Baby Sam." She gently (for a toddler) rubbed his head. "He night-night!" And then she turned back to Shrek.

She seems very content with Sam being here. If she finds his pacifier or blanket, she wants to get it to him; if she hears him make any sounds, especially any crying, she wants to check on him; she is totally cool with me holding and snuggling him . . .

Her Daddy, however, is a different story. She has been a Daddy's Girl since time began, and it's harder for her to share him. She cries when he holds Sam the same way she cries when she sees The Husband touching me. It's a wonder she has a brother at all, actually. She will let The Husband hold Sam as long as he is holding her as well, so I feel that is a step in the right direction.

So far, Sam has been a pretty content baby. If he isn't eating, he is sleeping, so while Lydia's in daycare and The Husband is at work I find myself having these strange occurrences of FREE TIME that are almost mind-blowing. I'm doing whatever dishes and laundry I can scrounge up and trying to find any reason that I need to go somewhere but without needing to spend much money. Last week when The Husband was still off work we both were beset by the FREE TIME bug. He worked outside a lot and our front yard has never looked so good in all the years we've lived here! He even vacuumed the couch.

Sam's two-week doctor visit was yesterday and he's starting to bulk up. He's gained nine ounces over the past week for a total weight of 6 pounds 4 ounces. Huzzah!

I am also on the mend, slowly but surely. The past few days I've started to test the waters on driving and I feel pretty comfortable with it. I don't think I'd attempt Highway 280 at 5:00 p.m. yet but I'm going to pick up The Girlie from daycare this afternoon, Sam in tow.

So here we are. I have my sprightly little girl and a healthy growing son. We're flying along through life and now can set our sights on the next event on the horizon: Lydia's second birthday (and The Husband's 29th!). The last few weeks have been eventful, to say the least, and I am looking forward to being in the everyday with my family, cats and all.

the launch of sputnik, part III (ascent)

2010-06-16T07:53:00.003-05:00

After they evaluated Samuel for a while the N.I.C.U. elected to admit him since his breathing was still more rapid than they would have liked it to have been. They also wanted to treat him with antibiotics in case he had fluid in his lungs, which can happen easier with c-section babies.

The rest of the evening after his birth is really a blur to me. Though my epidural had been turned off and I could now wiggle my legs, I was on a good mix of pain medications and was probably a bit loopy. I was still very shaken and feeling emotionally fragile.

Soon after we were in our room, our parents showed up bearing a yummy Zaxby's dinner. The nurses were all very fearful that I was going to barf -- in fact, they were like that since the Wednesday last when I was brought into Labor and Delivery with the agonizing pains -- and my assurances that barfing is a rarity for me didn't seem to quell their fears. They kept barfing sacks near me at all times, though they were never needed.

They kept me hooked up to a few different tethers that night, and I kept popping awake about every 15 minutes or so. There were little leg massagers around my calves to prevent blood clots, and in my half-sleep state I kept thinking it was Hermione the cat shifting around my feet. It almost felt like home.

The next morning they wanted me up and out of that bed. I had to take a shower (which felt wonderful, actually) and I had to remove the dressing from my c-section scar (which wasn't as hard to do as I was afraid it was).

After that, I finally got to see Sam again. It took a while to commandeer a wheelchair, but once that was done, The Husband wheeled me down to the N.I.C.U. where I got to hold my baby boy again. Now that I was in a better state of mind, I got to really look at him. He really did have long feet and toes! He looked pretty healthy, really; he just needed some fattening up.

His little bitty hand had an IV in it and there were three lead wires on his chest measuring heart rate, breathing rate, and something else I never was sure of. Poor little guy.

We couldn't stay there all day so back to my room we went. We came back again after lunch, and Sam was doing well enough that the doctor was willing to let us try to feed him to see how he did. After a bit of wiggling he did latch on -- that made me feel better. I was afraid we'd lost a lot of time in the feeding department.

That afternoon I got to see Lydia again -- I hadn't seen her since Tuesday morning. Always the Daddy's girl, she was more happy to be in The Husband's arms than anything. Actually, there were a lot of people in my room that afternoon, and that's usually when a scene will happen.

I'd been feeling a stitch in my right side most of the afternoon but had just been trying to change positions. When someone told Lydia to hand Mommy a brownie and she took a bite out of it before handing it to me, I started to laugh before I realized how much that hurt.

But no one can make me laugh like my sister, and she started making fun of the odd family next door to me that were wearing matching t-shirts for the arrival of their baby -- grandparents and everybody, y'all! I can't help but laugh at that . . . OUCH.

On that stupid "On a scale of 1 to 10, how bad is your pain?" question the nurses constantly asked me, this was a freakin' 10, okay? It really hurt, and it didn't stop, and everybody was there. It hurt from my scar all the way up to that stitch in my side. I must have looked bad because The Husband jumped to my side and everyone cleared out. The stitch in my side hurt so bad it hurt to breathe, which led me to only take shallow breaths, and the whole damn thing was so scary I easily fell into Panic Attack #3.

The Husband's buzzing the nurses and they're frittering about but mainly seem confused by me. It felt like forever before someone came in that began to make decisions. I wasn't very aware of the passage of time, I was just trying to breathe and The Husband was trying to get me to calm down. They gave me some morphine which helped the pain around my scar but it didn't touch the stitch.

The Decision Maker wanted to be proactive and do some tests -- he mentioned CAT scan -- and said the same phrase my doctor said right before the c-section: there will be a few people in here and things will go fast. I was just starting to calm down from the panic attack but those words scared me. I looked at The Husband and said, "Ohh, can they give me something for that so I don't notice? I'm on the edge."

They did give me something, though I have no idea what it was, but I barely remember the EKG, and have only vague memories of the CAT scan. I remember they put dye in my veins for the CAT scan. It turns out they were checking for blood clots or a potential pulmonary embolism.

After those tests were over I was so pumped up with God-knows-what that I conked right out. I slept better that night until about 1:00 in the morning, when once again my veins failed me as they tried to get a blood sample. It took two nurses and about five tries to get something.

The next morning I was starting to feel better, though embarrassed by the previous day's events now that the doctors were concluding it was "gas," and I finally got to go see Sam again after they did one more test on me to make sure there were no blood clots in my legs.

We got to feed Sam more throughout that day, and I found myself re-learning the basics like burping a very small child. Lydia really was not much bigger than this when she was born.

Sam was still doing better, but they were making no promises as to when he would get out. I was allowed to stay in the hospital until Sunday the 6th, and they were hinting that would be the earliest he would be able to leave. Thankfully, he kept improving and he transitioned to a crib in the N.I.C.U. that Friday evening.

He was on three hour feedings so I made sure I was down there every three hours or had pumped enough milk for him so he was in good supply, usually to get him through the overnight hours. Before we could leave the N.I.C.U. The Husband and I had to watch a video on car seat safety and one on infant C.P.R. That video came with a take-home blow-up infant for practice. 'Creepy' doesn't even begin to describe it.

Sunday rolled around and we got our most ardent wish -- Sam could come home with me! He had gained two ounces while at the hospital and his breathing was excellent. He had no infection and was eating beautifully. I was also on the mend and had been walking down to the N.I.C.U. since Friday.

I was checked out one more time by the on-call doctor before I was discharged. "Wow, your scar looks great, you can hardly tell," she cooed. Ohh, I bet you say that to all the c-section girls!

Finally, on a hot Sunday D-Day afternoon (Happy Birthday, Ken!), we pack up Sam and his wide array of stuff and climb into Elliott, ready to head home to meet the cats and, most importaly, Miss Lydia Jane.

the launch of Sputnik, part II (liftoff)

2010-06-14T13:10:00.002-05:00

The Husband and I entered into the first week of June not knowing exactly what was going to happen. We had entered into speedy preparations at home and work just in case. Sadly, the lawn eluded us -- it rained every day and the grass just got taller. Come to think of it, I don't think it's rained since then, but I digress.

On Tuesday the first I had a doctor's appointment mid-morning. I was still hurting, but still was not in labor. On Wednesday I would be 37 weeks along and be considered full-term. My doctor and I talked about the pros and cons of inducing now versus waiting a week or two, how bad I was hurting, et cetera, and the decision was made to induce me the next day, June 2nd. It was the most set piece of information we'd had all week. Arrangements were made for The Girlie and we settled in to wait one more night.

__________________________________

The next morning started off very much like Lydia's arrival. We had to be at the hospital at the butt-crack of dawn, where we're shown to our room, I shimmy into a butt-showing hospital gown (green this time that better flattered my hair) and get hooked up to all the fun machines.

Then . . . the nurses came in to give me my IV.

Now, only once before in my entire life has someone not been able get a needle in my vein on the first try. It was such a shock to me at the time that I wrote about it. I became wary when the first nurse used a numbing agent before trying the IV, as if she doubted her abilities in the first place. Her first two attempts were unsuccessful. The other nurse took a try or two . . . or three, I kinda lost track. They finally got one in my right arm but didn't get a good blood sample out of me. Now I was starting to doubt the awesomeness of my veins -- maybe it's cause I'm dehydrated?

They decided to send the sample to the lab anyway and see if it's enough. Meanwhile, it's not even 8:00 yet and my arms are covered in Band-Aids (or, as Lydia would say, SpongeBobs!). I'm thankful for my pain tolerance and open-mindedness of needles.

Soon after, my doctor comes in to break my water. Woo, I forgot how icky that was. The pitocin starts and I lean back to play Uno on my iPod until I need my epidural, which I think I asked for around 10:00. When the anesthesiologist found out what I did for a living, I ended up talking to him about drainage problems while he put the epidural in my back.

My doctor came to check on me again at lunch. By then I had progressed to a point that took me until about 5:00 p.m. to get to with Lydia. That got our spirits up and my doctor was thinking this one would be an afternoon baby. More Uno was played while The Husband read his book. I napped in and out, remembering the strength I will need soon.

Around 1:00 p.m. the nurse had me lay on my side for a bit, then on my other side for a little bit. Apparently Sam was starting to not be amused by the contractions. A bit later on, she gave me oxygen as well. None of this phased me; Lydia did the same and the oxygen had pleased her.

Sam didn't seem to care about the oxygen. His heartrate slowed down after each contraction. They next tried an amniofusion, which is basically adding fluid back around the baby. He didn't care for that either. At one point I had nine different cords coming off my body; I felt very tethered. The one good piece of news was I was still progressing.

Sometime around 4:30ish, my doctor comes back to check on me, though she had been getting updates from my nurse. I could tell in her eyes she didn't like what was going on with Sam. I remember looking at The Husband and whispering, "I don't want a c-section," and he said something back to the effect of, "I know but we might have to."

My doctor quickly scanned over all the charts and notes, checked me out, and paused a moment before she went to wash her hands. That's when I knew -- it would be a c-section. Time's up.

My doctor explained if this had been my first baby she probably would have pulled the c-section trigger sooner but she wanted to give me as much time as she could since we know my body has completed a vaginal birth before. If it looked like the birth was about 30 minutes away they'd attempt it but I had probably another two hours and Sam was showing too much signs of stress for that far out. To see exactly what was going on (they suspected he either had the cord in his hands or it was around his neck) they pulled in an ultrasound machine and sure enough, the cord was around his neck.

She told me things were going to happen really fast but everything would be okay. True to her word, things happened VERY FAST. Many people were suddenly in the room like a swarm of buzzing bees. Anesthesiologists adding drugs to my epidural, nurses changing out tubes and cords, one nurse literally buzzing as she came at me with a razor. One nurse was directing The Husband into some scrubs, another was half-assedly sticking my hair into a scrub hat. I began shaking -- I was freaked.

Whoosh -- off to the OR room. I see the ceiling, I see the double-doors warning people to keep out and in we go. The first thing I notice are the large round lights -- big OR lights just like in the movies and such. When we first get in the room I can still wiggle my toes but that seems to fade away by the time they lift me onto the table. I'm shaking like I never have before. I see them rub iodine across my stomach before they put a blue curtain up between my top half and bottom half.

There are tons of people in this room as well. I can't see them all but I hear and feel their presence as they buzz around me. One of the anesthesiologists is apparently assigned to my head -- his name is Jim. They grab my arms and hold them down to these miniature gurneys splayed out for arms but they didn't strap me to them, thank God. Nerve Drug Jim holds down my right hand and The Husband reappears, holding my left hand. I think he asked why I'm shaking and Nerve Drug Jim told him it was the medicine.

Nerve Drug Jim keeps talking, he's constantly asking me questions, I suppose to make sure the epidural doesn't go funny on me. He's explaining to me what they're doing (I'd answer, "Right." "Yes." "Right.") and constantly reminding me that I'm going to be okay, you know you're going to be okay, right? "Right." Shaking, always shaking.

He asked me about Sam, what's his name, do you have any other kids, how old are they, what's their name? But the thought of Lydia made me weep even more -- I just wanted to me on the couch with her in my lap, away from the bees. I had been able to answer Nerve Drug Jim's questions with one-word answers, but when he asked me how I decorated Sam's room I couldn't even begin to answer him, even with The Husband's prodding. I didn't have enough words.

As for what was going on on the other side of the curtain, my lower half felt like it was a million miles away from me. I felt the pressure of the knife as my doctor made her incision but no pain, then there was cutting, and tugging, which all seemed very rough. Someone warned me that they would push hard on my stomach in a minute and, oh boy, did they! There were two extremely hard pushes up near my ribcage and the sound of a lot of sucking.

Then Nerve Drug Jim starts saying, "Listen, listen!" and very faintly I could hear a little baby cry, though it was hard with all the buzzing in the room. Someone said, "Cord around his neck twice," then they lowered the blue screen just low enough for The Husband and I to see Samuel James for the first time.

Me, in my panic attack state, thought, "Oh, so this is the part where they show you the baby," then they took him back to get him cleaned up -- The Husband followed -- and I was left with Nerve Drug Jim. I started to calm down just enough to ask questions like how much he weighed but no one near my head knew. The Husband came back with the stats: 5 pounds 10 ounces and 19.5 inches long.

Then off went Samuel and The Husband to the transition area -- he was breathing fast -- and I was getting put back together. I might have heard someone remark I had a beautiful uterus but I could be pulling wacko thoughts out of my head. My panic attack came back when I got some mucus in the back of my throat and I realized I couldn't swallow.

Like Humpty Dumpty, they put me back together again and rolled me back to my room for recovery. I had to look at my newly-attached hospital bracelet to see what time Sam was born: 4:53 p.m. The Husband came back in -- Sam was still in the transition area -- and told me about Sam's long feet, long toes, and long fingers. As soon as the nurses felt comfortable with how I was doing, they rolled me in to where Sam was.

Once I saw him and held him skin to skin, my beautiful baby boy, I melted into tears again. I was so mentally worn out by the unexpected events of the day I just wanted to curl into a ball and hold him. So small and soft. Worth all that anguish and more I had been through that day.

the launch of Sputnik, part I (countdown)

2010-06-08T09:28:00.004-05:00

Wednesday, May 26th, started out as a typically normal day. The only difference was the noticeable pain I felt when I got up that morning. It wasn't a come-and-go contract-y pain, just a constant, aching pain that a long sleep usually would chase away. Oh well. We get ready for the morning, I rouse Lydia, drop her off at daycare, and head in to work.

By mid-morning, I knew I would be calling my OB at some point in the day because I was finding myself gripping the side of my desk. I wasn't having contractions other than the occasional Braxton-Hicks -- this was a constant pain encompassing my entire abdomen and back. I waited before calling, though, because I was afraid I was just being a wussy and I had work stuff to do.

I finally called and left a message at the nurses' station around lunch, horrified with myself to hear my voice breaking when I tried to describe the pain. Come on, Carrie, it's not that bad! Wuss. I continued about my day and waited for the call, figuring they would tell me to cool it for the rest of the day and come in for my regularly scheduled appointment tomorrow.

When the nurse called me back (while I was on the phone with an extremely talkative customer, of course) they actually wanted me to come in so they could make sure I was not in labor. They asked if I was close by and I said, "No, I'm in Pelham," but she insisted that was fine and to come on in.

I finished up what I could at work and drove up to the doctor's office, where I supposed they would check me out, tell me to take it easy, and send me home. Only they didn't. They wanted to see if I was having back labor pains, and if I was in labor, my OB said she'd let me labor since I was at 36 weeks. Apparently she'd been busy that day -- she'd delivered four babies already (all 34 weekers) and she delivered at least one more before the day was out. The full moon was in effect.

So down to Labor and Delivery I went. Time to tell The Husband. I sent him a quick text to let him know they were just monitoring me for a couple of hours but he needed to pick up The Girlie. I wasn't getting clear information on how long I'd be there (could be a few hours, could be overnight, could be in labor) so I wasn't sure what to plan for here.

Now I must make a confession. The Husband and I were planning on being all secretive about Sputnik's launch just the same as Lydia's arrival. I know, I know -- I'm horrible, simply horrible. A beast, even. I was conniving with my sister on the What To Do With Lydia end of things. Of course, all this was based on how Lydia's birth went down -- totally planned, no hitches, no surprises, nada. Finding myself in L&D 36 weeks in was not in the plan.

Once they started hooking me up to IVs and had me signing papers related to birthin' babies, I knew there was a big chance the cat could be out of the bag and that was just the end of it. The Husband and I thought we had another three weeks to a month and so much was yet to be done. Right after they gave me some awesome pain medication, The Husband gave me a call, wondering if he should be there with me and have his parents get The Girl. "Yes, I think so," I probably slurred.

So, not quite knowing my thoughts yet on what to do about the situation, The Husband called his parents and asked them to get Lydia, citing our doing of "secret important things," and got to my side pronto. We decided that Sputnik didn't agree with our plans of secrecy or mode of planning so we were just going to have to wing it. While waiting to find out what was actually going on with me, we began making lists of what was left to be done, what I needed at the hospital if I actually was in labor, and what was left to buy. It was a long list.

After about an hour that pain medication wore off and, ohhh, it hurt. I was on a contraction and heart rate monitor by now and I wasn't having regular contractions (about two an hour) though there was some uterine irritability, but I don't know if that was what was painful. The nurses decided to give me some demerol in my IV. They asked if I had had that medicine before and I had back when my wisdom teeth were removed. So in goes the demerol and they said it would take about 15 minutes to take effect.

Within a few minutes I felt very lightheaded in a way that you feel when your blood pressure drops, and I think that is what scared me the most. I felt like I was going to faint, and that led into my first painic attack of the week. All I could get out where the words, "faint, faint!" and I felt like I couldn't breathe. Thank goodness The Husband was there, he held my hand and kept talking to me, trying to calm me down. I think that lasted about 15 minutes before I felt like I wasn't going to die and could safely rest.

My OB did elect to keep me there overnight for observation, so The Husband stayed with me and slept on one of those dastardly chairs. I think by this time he had notified immediate family as to what was going on, along with my office. I was pretty out of it by then.

The next morning my doctor felt pretty confident that I was not going into labor, though she said she wouldn't be surprised if I did over that holiday weekend. I was still hurting but wasn't even about to try any more demerol. I was given some percoset and that helped. My doctor was not sure why I was in so much pain but she did not think there was any grave concern for me or the baby, and if I was a week further along she would have gone ahead and induced me then. Since I was a week away from being full term, she wanted me to see a specialist just to make sure there was nothing she was missing, then just relax at home over the weekend and if I was still hurting (and still pregnant) the next week when I did reach full term, she would just induce me.

Before heading home we went by the specialist (the same one that first declared Sputnik to be a boy) and he also did not see anything of great concern that would be causing the pain, though he had no idea what could be hurting so bad. What I remember him saying was, "I wouldn't take a million dollars to be pregnant." I think he was trying to be funny but he just failed miserably. Don't say that to pregnant ladies, especially ones who are hurting so bad they're on narcotics.

So home we went for the Memorial Day weekend. Suddenly it was crunch time; launch might be imminent.

June 2, 2010

2010-06-03T14:50:00.003-05:00

After a long week ending with a flurry of sudden c-section action, Mr. Samuel has arrived.

heartbreaker

2010-05-12T18:05:00.002-05:00

Over the past few months Lydia has taken up with a new boyfriend at her daycare. This one is younger than her -- CRADLEROBBER -- and many times when I go by in the afternoon to pick her up I'm told about how they walk around the playground holding hands, sharing hugs and kisses, and all sorts of cute toddler stuff. There's even a picture on the daycare's Facebook page of them sharing a kiss. This boyfriend has held up for quite some time.

Until today. Lydia has moved into the new Toddler 3 room this week and also has moved on from cute little Brody.

One of the directors caught me this afternoon and told me the news: "Ohh, Lydia broke Brody's heart today." She then relayed the story to me.

For Lydia and Brody's usual playground routine, Brody would hold out his hand for Lydia, she would put her hand in his, and they would walk around the playground together, hand in hand. Today, her new beau, Colin, held out his hand for her, which she took. When Brody came up and extended his hand to her, she slapped it away with a, "No!"

Brody was reduced to tears. TEARS. Her rejection made this boy cry, y'all.

The director asked Brody if Lydia broke his heart, and he replied with a mad, "Yeah."

Oh sweetheart, you have to be careful with all the hearts you're leading around that playground.

the slow countdown to liftoff

2010-05-09T07:36:00.003-05:00

Poor Samuel. Someday when he's eight or nine he'll be reading this site and go, "Moooooooom, you never wrote about me like you did Lyyyyyyyyydiaaaaa!," in a whiny voice.

And I'll say, "Well sweetie, that's because Lydia was being whiiiiiiny all the time back then, just like you are now, only with a dash of tantrums included. My poor pregnant self had no time to write about the quiet child all cozy inside of me."

But Lydia is choosing to sleep late this morning (the best Mother's Day gift ever!) so I'm stealing a moment.

Sputnik is chugging along; I'm 33 1/2 weeks right now, so I've started that long 10-week march -- 6 1/2 weeks, 6 1/2 weeks -- and I am ever so ready. I have carried this one higher than Lydia and it's been tougher to breathe and eat, though apparently I don't look all that pregnant, just thicker. In fact, I'm not even wearing maternity shirts! My regular ones are getting by just fine. I do have the stretchy pants, though, as my hips have totally stretched out. Good for birthin'.

A few weeks ago we finally got a move on the room, and it is now painted and muralized. I always wanted to paint murals on my walls as a kid (my plan then was to paint dolphins and killer whales) but I was never allowed, so now I get to paint on my kids' rooms. Life is awesome!

As with Lydia's room two years ago, I painted all this the day I was off for my birthday, though this time I managed to completely wear myself out and was practically immobile by Sunday.

Even with the former office turning into another nursery, Lydia really has no clue. All she said when we got the crib together was, "Night night! Night night!" and motioned to be let in the crib. Oh man, her world is gonna be rocked. Ours too, baby girl, ours too.

NO!

2010-05-01T08:09:00.003-05:00

Wayyy back when my sister and I were in high school we watched a comedic variety show (I think it was All That) where they did a skit involving an exasperated parent and their toddler. The part of the skit that we remember and still quote went thus:

Toddler: I wanna go paint!
Parent: Okay, let's go paint.
Toddler. NO.

It became one of our 'quotables:' "I wanna go paint/Okay let's go paint/NO!" Oh, how we laughed.

Not laughing now. Oh, my God. IT'S TRUE.

This week Lydia has really dived into the parental frustration that is affectionately known as The Terrible Twos. Every single thing is a battle, from diaper changes and food to fun things like coloring, playing outside and reading books. And bedtime? I don't even want to talk about it for fear of invoking Murphy's Law -- it can always get WORSE.

She's still an awesome, very sweet girl, it's just now when she melts down, it's like that volcano in Iceland that even no one on NPR even attempts to pronounce -- all traffic in our household stops until the ash of madness can clear.

One thing that did lift my spirits, however, happened the other day. I learned that she most definitely knows that biting others is VERY VERY BAD and you can get in VERY BIG TROUBLE. She must have finally picked this up from daycare because I have not had to sign an Oops Note in quite a while. The Husband and I were tackling her for a diaper change and pajama time -- it was taking both of us -- and in her anger at this gross breach of personal space she grabbed my finger and brought it to her teeth.

As soon as my finger touched her teeth she stopped -- she did not bite, and her tantrum totally subsided as she looked at me with wide-eyed horror. I gave her The Look that my parents have so many times given me and calmly told her, "No, ma'am; we do not bite, especially Mommy and Daddy. That hurts people."

She was upset nearly to the point of tears and when I asked her for a hug and for her to say, "Sorry," she immediately crawled into my lap and wrapped her arms around my neck.

The Husband and I are both hoping Lydia will soon better understand and her over her frustrations. The sooner she does that, the more cute pictures I can get. Ha.

sputnik update

2010-03-14T20:44:00.002-05:00

Figured I'd give a little Sputnik update. He is growing, and it's starting to get noticeable. I've got two pairs of 'normal' pants that still work for me, though one of them I have to jerryrig with hairbands, but the rest of my pants are now of the maternity sort. The saggy, baggy, want-to-hang-below-your-butt maternity pants, oh how I hate them. There's got to be a better way to do pregnancy clothing.

At least my regular shirts are still good.

Sputnik is a big kicker; I see dancing or kickboxing in this kid's future. He can almost hurt.

I passed the oh so fun glucose test last week so FOOD FOR ME! As we speak The Husband is on his way to the Dairy Queen to fetch me a hot fudge sundae that I was denied yesterday (Lyida told me, "No!")

The Braxton Hicks contractions have started up as well, especially if I do too much or sit in a car for a long period of time. Fifteen more weeks of these? Where's my sundae?!

Ooh, I hear The Husband now! Yay!

hop back on again

2010-02-21T13:01:00.004-06:00

This weekend has been the first nice weekend in two months and it was time to GET OUTSIDE. Yesterday Lydia went to the zoo with her cousin Elizabeth.

Today the men are still working on The Project downstairs so Lydia and I went outside to enjoy the day. We took out her scoot-about tricycle that she got for Christmas so she could finally try it outdoors and she was having a blast. She rode all around the driveway while I snapped picture after picture of her.

At one point she went NASCAR and made the same circle loop over and over again around the bit of brick wall that separates the two garage doors. She giggled and smiled while going, "Wheeee!" whenever someone walked by her.

Then on the 52nd turn, there was a crash and a wail as Lydia faceplanted off of her bike. She was covered in sawdust, blood, and tears so we hightailed it upstairs to clean her up.

Once she was as doctored as much as she would let me do, she wanted right back outside. Once outside, she went straight to her bike and hopped back on, swollen lip and all.

That's the spirit, baby.

general familial update

2010-01-28T20:25:00.003-06:00

Mea culpa for the absence. My body has not enjoyed pregnancy near as much this time around, so for the last month or so I have been fighting the Virus of Death. I finally got rid of it a few weeks ago, but now I have strept throat. Again. The doctors keep telling me my immune system just isn't going to function as well right now, being with child and what, so . . . waiting for June ever so much here.

Today we received bonifide confirmation that Sputnik is indeed a boy. He is measuring right on target at 48% percentile and is currently sitting breech. Hopefully he'll re-situate himself before long.

I started feeling him wiggle around about a week and a half ago so it's nice to know he's kicking around in there. Just like with Lydia, I'm not really showing yet. I have to be nakers to really tell and only The Husband gets those kind of privileges (if that's what you want to call it).

Lydia has no awareness of the brother that is coming and, really, it's kinda tough to explain to a 19 month old who lives in the ever-present and NOW something huge that is coming in five months. We'll have to wait for the time to get closer and for her to level up a bit.

Speaking of Lydia, she is growing by leaps and bounds lately, especially her hair. Sometimes I think she could use a bit of a trim -- it's getting in her eyes -- but when I mention this to The Husband he yelps as if hurt. I would pull it back into a ponytail but she won't let me mess with it. However, there is someone at daycare she will trust her red locks to. I wonder how they gained that trust? She came home this afternoon looking like this, and I about died from cuteness:

Sometimes she tries her own hand with her hair. At her cousin's house last weekend, she figured her Aunt Cathy's potato soup would make a wonderful hair mousse.

And the speaking, oh! the speaking! She's a veritable chatterbox, even if she's telling you a story in complete babble. She'll pull out a book and tell you all about it in her own language. She knows some of the Queen's English, too. She's got perhaps 15 to 20 words she knows and uses, and she will parrot back just about any word you say to her. This can get you in trouble if you aren't thinking about what you're saying around her.

There's an attitude there, too. She will point her finger at Renton if he gets too close to her toys and say, "No no no!" Sometimes she points that finger at us. She's got sass.

Lydia's got a kind heart as well. If you ever need a hug or kiss, just ask her for one and she is always willing to oblige. She gives the sweetest kisses. There is just no better thing she could ever give me.

the creepy man that sneaks into your house at night

2009-12-22T12:34:00.004-06:00

As opposed to last year, Lydia decided Santa is The Scary Man Extraordinaire. What a nice set of molars you have there, child!

Sputnik is . . . aptly named?

2009-12-13T09:46:00.004-06:00

This past Friday I had an appointment for a screening test. It's basically an ultrasound and bloodwork to check for chromosomal abnormalities. No biggie, we did the same thing with Lydia mainly because, hey!, another ultrasound. Why not.

With Lydia we went downtown but now they're offering the test at our hospital so the drive's a bit easier. So in the ultrasound room we go, the tech gooks up the wand and asks, "If we're able to tell the sex of the baby, do you want to know?"

Uh, okay, sure. But at 12 weeks? Good luck with that, lady.

So off she goes to get her pictures and measurements. Sputnik is just as cooperative as Lydia was in utero. Then she says, "Okay, based on the angle of this here and yada yada yada, it's a boy. Welcome to the world of Star Wars."

A what? For real?

No fooling?

See, Steven and I have been living in the Land of Pink for about two years now, and we've just gotten used to that. So we're kinda floored, actually.

The doctor came in a few minutes later and said that was his guess as well. I asked him how sure he was and without missing a beat he replied, "95% sure." Then Sputnik proceeded to curl up in a ball like a cat while the doctor unsuccessfully tried to get a profile shot of his face for the actual screening test.

So, there you have it. I'm not about to paint the nursery yet or anything, but . . . Star Wars and Pokemon and whatever else it is boys like. God knows I have no clue right now. We have baby dolls and tea sets over here.

christmastime for tacos

2009-12-13T08:52:00.002-06:00

At Christmas last year Lydia was not yet mobile so I had no far for all my Christmas trimmings and trappings. This year, however, I had a great anxiety about how the now-running Lydia would behave with the tree. After all, it's practically a toy-laden conifer in the eyes of a toddler.

When the tree went up this year I was very particular about which ornaments went where -- the few non-breakable ornaments went towards the bottom and everything else went higher-up, out of reach. Last year I had even labeled a box of extra-breakable ornaments "Nervous Ornaments 2008" -- they didn't even go on the tree this year.

Surprisingly, except for one backflipping-of-the-couch-into-the-tree incident, Lydia has done very well with the tree. She knows not to mess with it and she mainly gets a kick out of pointing out all the ornaments and naming them to us: 'birr,' 'durr,' 'dada,' 'ca-T,' 'FFFF,' 'OOOH!' (Translation: bird, door, Santa, cat, tree, 'It's all so pretty!')

sputnik likes oreos

2009-12-05T06:37:00.004-06:00

I'm eating little mini Oreos this morning because Sputnik apparently likes them. I usually don't, or I at least scrape out the cream filling for disposal. If I gain 80 pounds, it's all Sputnik's fault.

I had a quick little checkup yesterday and everything's peachy. Slowly but surely I think the nausea horribilus is ebbing -- I went all the way from Monday to yesterday afternoon without taking a Pill of Awesome. Twelve pills left.

Looking forward to January and the beginning of the boring second trimester. I like the part where I'm hungry and can stomach water again.

and I thought the taco made me feel queasy

2009-11-28T07:08:00.004-06:00

Hey . . . meet Sputnik!

This is actually from a couple of weeks ago. Been a while since I've mentioned the new one, huh? I have a very good excuse; even a doctor's note.

Right around the six-week mark, I started feeling sick, sick, SICK. It was horrendous. I never full-on barfed, but I was always at that last step right before one does. That feeling stayed with me from waking up in the morning to going to bed at night. Unconsciousness was my only defense. I even started to lose weight; I never lost a pound with Lydia.

This came up at my last doctor's appointment and, glory of glories, she prescribed me some happy happy anti-nausea medicine that has been a wonder. Dance! Unfortunately, due to an insurance prescription cap I didn't know I had, I am officially maxed out on drugs until January 1st, so what I have is what I get. Fourteen pills left. I hope I don't get really truly sick between now and January, actually.

Waiting 'till Thanksgiving to tell everybody didn't exactly pan out. The Husband talked me into telling immediate family the same weekend he found out, and so we did. After the last appointment where we got to see the heartbeat and all that jazz, we're pretty much telling everybody. I decided on Sputnik because I've decided it's a boy since it's kicking my butt so much more this time.

So here we are, two days after Thanksgiving, and I cannot wait for it to be January. Or Spring, for that matter. I'm cold.

the sign of the taco

2009-11-14T07:13:00.002-06:00

Over the past week or so, I would notice Lydia do this seemingly random gesture where she would point into her palm. I didn't think too much of it. She's usually doing random things. I chalked it up to toddlerism and moved on.

Yesterday evening I finally caught on to when she was doing it, and it definitely is an intended gesture. I was feeding her dinner and she had finished her plate, so I asked her, "Do you want some more?" She immediately did her finger-pointing gesture -- left hand extended flat, right index finger repeatedly pointing into her left palm.

"Hmmm," I thought. They don't teach baby sign language at Lydia's daycare, but I wonder if someone there knows some and have passed it along anyway.

I told The Husband about it when he got home from work. I'm not sure he believed me until later when he was handing Lydia little pieces of pineapple for a snack. He asked her, "Lydia, do you want some more pineapple?" She pointed into her palm then opened her mouth with an "Ahh ahh ahh!" Every time he asked her, she would make that hand gesture.

It's pretty neat, I just wish I new what it meant. Does it mean 'more,' 'please,' 'yes,' 'give me that pineapple you crazy people!' -- I'd just like to know what's being communicated.

We looked up what is the official Baby Sign Language for 'more' and it's not that, so I'm clueless. Maybe she made it up herself.

no longer alone with da secret

2009-10-17T12:01:00.005-05:00

The Husband arrived home at 1:30 this morning. I was ever so glad to see him! It was another long night, then I ended up waking early again, so I had to rely on the interwebs to amuse me. Lydia eventually got up and her commotion with breakfast and gabbing eventually got The Husband out of bed.

I listened while The Husband told me about his week and all the stuff he learned. He had a great time. Eventually Lydia's demands for the Ending of Breakfast became pretty loud so I passed along her 'note' to him. "Here," I said, "Lydia got you a card."

"Aww, how sweet," he replied, and began to read.

I watched his face as he read Lydia's words:

Daddy,

I am so glad you are home. I missed you very much.
Mommy told me a secret and to not tell anyone but you. She said I am going to be a big sister. I don't know what that means, but I think I get to be the boss.

Love, Lydia

The Husband blinked, then looked at me. "Seriously?" he asked.

I nodded.

"Oh my God. Wow, another baby." Then he grinned real big and gave me a hug.

"You want to know the funny part?" I asked. "I'm due June 23rd." Then I started laughing.

____________________

The Husband is very excited indeed. I am just glad I am not the only one that knows anymore. That is quite a big secret to carry around for five days. The initial idea is to announce to family at Thanksgiving again, though we might do it before, I dunno.

Yay, I have someone to talk to about this! Ha ha ha ha ha!

anticipation

2009-10-16T19:46:00.004-05:00

It's the eve before The Husband gets back from his week-long trip. I am so nervous. This weekend is going to be a fun-filled shebang of birthday celebrations and a zoo visit with my sister and her flock, so I haven't yet decided if I will let him know before or after. I'm leaning towards before, mainly because I'm tired of knowing all by my lonesome. It's been a long week.

At least I've figured out how to let him know. Lydia will write him a note, with my help. She wants to know if she will be able to be the boss.

Surprisingly, I've already noticed the in-comings of that horrible pregnancy nausea feeling. I won't feel hungry forever, then I'll get that hollow-in-the-pit-of-my-stomach feeling that is quite strong and practically unbearable, but the moment I start eating food I feel full to the point of nauseated again. What gives? I thought I had a few more weeks before this started!

october surprise

2009-10-13T17:21:00.004-05:00

The Husband is out of town this week, off to a rare conference and filling his head with all sorts of knowledge and awesomeness. Should be a quiet week here at the abode? Sure. Except something just doesn't feel right . . .

So this morning, before Lydia woke up, I conducted a little science experiment involving a few months-expired pregnancy test and, of course, pee.

The test was totally positive.

So there I am, still half-asleep (hence no picture) staring at these two lines. This is BIG NEWS, and I have no one to talk to for almost a week. There's no way I can tell The Husband this over the phone, though a brief mind experiment involving texting a picture of the test to him and imagining his reaction while sitting in a roomful of others trying to listen to the expensive speaker at the front of the room gave me a light chuckle.

I don't think it's hit me yet, this other child that is coming. I did have sense enough to pick up another, unexpired test and re-confirm the two lines.

Some quick calculations reveal that the due date is June 23rd, 2010 YOU HAVE GOT TO BE KIDDING ME, but I will bet you right now it'll be June 14th. Write it down.

I feel fine now, but this time, I know what's coming . . . the nausea, the extreme tiredness, the HUGENESS, night feedings and crying for no reason.

But also . . .

The cooing, the first smile, the cuddling, that baby-fresh smell, the first laugh, rolling over for the first time, sitting up, crawling, walking, realizing mashed potatoes are manna from Heaven!

Two years apart. Buddy, I got it.

point

2009-10-11T12:30:00.002-05:00

The other weekend we visited the zoo with our friends and their son, Syon. This was Lydia's third trip to the zoo and her most enjoyable time there yet.

The moment we arrived she began pointing out all the interesting things to us.

Now that she's walking she was much less willing to sit in her stroller -- we probably shouldn't have bothered to bring it -- and was more satisfied to wander around the area, checking out all that was worth checking out. Sometimes she forgot we were around.

Any kind of bird (except the flamingos) were her favorite. She is still a people-watcher, though, and other kids especially caught her attention. Oh, to be able to run around so fast!

Lydia even pointed out the big, scary animals, though she was glad her Daddy was there to back her up on that.

After lunch, the kids checked out the nifty water-shooting area.

Though Syon turned out to be a brave soul . . .

. . . Lydia wasn't feeling quite so daring.

After all that running around, pointing, and a big meal, both kids were starting to look tuckered out.

We packed up and made our way home -- Lydia began what was to be a three hour nap of excellence.

update: growing taco

2009-09-20T20:31:00.002-05:00

Lydia hits the big 15-monther next week, if you can believe it. She's way past toddling now, she's practically running sometimes. She is going light-speed through time; I can't keep up mentally, physically, or with clothes that fit. Thank goodness for Grandma!

Over the past few weeks, Lydia is starting to find her voice can shape syllables, and syllables can maybe sometimes sorta refer to objects among us. When prompted, she can say "burr" (bird), "baaah" (ball), "fffff!" (off), and "daaah!" (anything positive, like 'on,' 'daddy,' or 'yay'). Now The Husband and I are REALLY having to watch our language. I completely failed at this during a round of Super Mario Bros 3 yesterday. I forget how frustrating that game is. Give me the Wii and multiple save points any day.

She is still my morning girl, always has been since she was a itty bitty thing. Once the sun is up she is ready to play and you're guaranteed giggles and some good pictures. As the evening wears on she is more apt to be ornery, especially if a nap was interrupted.

It's just nutty that a year ago Miss Lydia was three months old and we were eagerly awaiting the arrival of her cousin. Now we are just eagerly awaiting Miss Elizabeth's first birthday party. It shall be a wondrous hoot.

Earlier today Lydia reached out for my hand. I gave it to her and then she proceeded to lead me around the house. Having never done this before, she didn't seem to have an end goal in mind. I suppose she just felt ready to lead me around the same way I have led her from one room to the next. Someday Lydia will see how she has led me to so many places already.

model taco

2009-08-30T12:24:00.002-05:00

Once when The Husband and I were just parents to two cats my mom told me when I had kids I was never going to take pictures of them because I would be too worn out from taking so many pictures of the kitties.

"Oh please," I replied back, "I'll take so many pictures of my kids you'll be able to make a flip book movie of their entire childhood."

I'm proud to say I was right. I have a camera in Lydia's face more often than I probably should. But seriously . . . how can I resist this?

I can even do flip books, just as I promised.

toddlin' taco

2009-08-06T19:42:00.002-05:00

A few weekends ago Lydia took the big plunge and started walking. We were at her Aunt Lisa's and Uncle Ken's house when she started to take off -- she was waiting for the right audience.

She's very proud of herself and is getting better every day. It took her a few days to master the art of changing direction while walking. Now she's working on walking fast, a.k.a. running.

___________________________________

Last weekend we took our walking child with us down to Auburn to visit her cousin and they had a blast together. They slept in the same room with Elizabeth in her crib and Lydia in a borrowed pack-n-play (Whoops! The one thing we forgot to pack!) and when they would wake up in the mornings they gabbled to each other until one of them got hungry enough to make a ruckus.

Despite there being a hundred toys on the floor, one girl would inevitably want what the other girl had. There were many fracases over THINGS that the other one HAD that they WANTED and LIFE IS NOT FAIR.

After a short scuffle or parent intervention, they would work it out.

We had the girls pouffed up in dresses on Sunday so we couldn't resist a little on-campus photo shoot. In hindsight, we made the mistake of doing this right before lunch, so there were some rumbly tummies. Lydia, who isn't very demanding about food until she sees it, was perfectly willing to ham it up for the camera,

. . . but Elizabeth knows when lunchtime is, and that time was now, and that camera does NOT look like a grilled cheese sandwich. So she cursed us.

We hightailed it off to Niffer's where Elizabeth quickly downed some milk and a baby food appetizer. Lydia chowed down on some chicken, some of The Husband's french fries, and a bit of the pasta from my pasta bowl. Elizabeth enjoyed a lemon slice because she's odd like that.

All too soon, we had to head back home, but Lydia and Elizabeth will be able to play together again soon -- Aunt Cathy's and Uncle Jason's birthday is coming up!

here's your sign

2009-07-21T18:03:00.002-05:00

Yesterday when I went to pick up Lydia from daycare I was told she got an Oops Note that day that I had to sign. At first I thought it meant she got a boo-boo, but no . . . she gave other kids boo-boos. An Oops Note is a note that the parent has to sign when your sweet innocent daughter has BEEN BAD and has been BITING THE OTHER CHILDREN. Lydia is turning into The Biter.

In Lydia's defense, she is teething again and these unbearable chompers are bugging the stew out of her. She has been biting the others for a few days, long enough for the other kids to figure out that when she comes for them, they shove her own arm into her mouth and she ends up biting herself. This daycare is full of brilliant one year olds!

I told Lydia if this doesn't let up they're going to hang a sign around her neck as a warning to others: Warning -- Biter.

"Grasp the subject, the words will follow." -- Cato the Elder

2009-07-11T08:42:00.002-05:00

On July 4th the three of us were heading down to The Husband's parents' house for a 4th of July shin-dig. We were ready for copious amounts of food, swimming, and fun. As I watched the trees fly past the window, I heard the tell-tale sound of a pacifier clinking down the side of a car-seat as Lydia threw it out.

"Uh-oh," I thought. I waited for the fussing to begin.

"Uh-oh," said Lydia.

I looked at The Husband, and he looked at me. "Did she just say, 'Uh-oh?'" I asked.

"I think so. Maybe," he replied.

"Lydia, did you say, 'Uh-oh?'" I asked her.

"Uh-oh," she said. She continued her 'Uh-oh's' for the rest of the trip. Of course, she didn't do it when we prompted her upon arrival to The Husband's Parents', and I wasn't even sure of 'Uh-oh' counted as a word. It's more like an extremely mild curse. I wouldn't play it on a Scrabble board, you know?

I must confess out of all the words we say repeatedly around her, I'm surprised she picked up 'Uh-oh' first. That's a VERY GOOD THING.

Throughout this past week she has continued with her Uh-ohing. She definitely connects it with dropping stuff. She will drop -- or deliberately throw -- her toys/food/things that aren't hers to the floor and say, "Uh-oh!" On the way home from daycare she works on perfecting it: "Ah-oh . . . Uh-uh . . . Uh-ohhhh . . . UH-OHHH . . ."

Everyone says it's definitely a word, so even though Hasbro wouldn't accept it, I will officially declare 'Uh-oh' Lydia's First Word (tm).

Spoken modestly, God help us (name that movie!).

twelve month old taco (1 year old taco!)

2009-06-24T19:58:00.003-05:00

Yesterday, Lydia turned one year old. An entire twelve months has flashed on by.

This last month was a doozie.

At the very end of May we lost my mother relatively unexpectedly, and it seems with each passing day I have a greater need of her. Not two months ago I was discussing with her my vague plans for Lydia's birthday party, and now that party is just a few days away; I cannot fathom that she won't be at the very event we talked about just a few weeks previous. I remember her voice just a year ago when I called to tell her Lydia had arrived; half excited, half admonishing (for catching her by surprise) -- it seems unnatural for her not to call this year and send birthday wishes. It feels so unfair to me that Lydia will never know her Nana -- I knew my mother's mother, so why can't Lydia know hers?

Lydia, bless her soul, was a trooper during all the multi-day functions that a funeral brings. She spent the first night away from us, staying with her Grandma and Papa, and she was a sweetie for them. As long as she has her snuggle blankie, she's good for a sleep just about anywhere.

Table foods continued to become more interesting to Lydia. She quickly switched to eating straight table foods -- she was eager to try anything!

Pretty soon, she started having trouble with looser stools, then straight-up diarrhea -- as in straight up the back! It became a daily occurrence for me to pick her up from daycare and find her in a completely different outfit from what she had on that morning. Sometimes she went through two outfits a day. Daycare clothes became commonplace. The doctor said to feed her more starches (the BRAT diet) but, alas, nothing seemed to stop her up.

Then her feet started peeling. Not like sunburn peeling, we're talking huge thick chunks of skin off the bottoms of her toes and heels. Good Lord, my baby is falling apart! The doctor said to moisturize and wait since her checkup appointment was around the corner. And the diarrhea raged on.

In desperation, I switched Lydia's milk from regular cow's milk to soymilk. She liked it and, the next day, a poo came forth that stayed within its bounds! More tamer poos continued and so far things are looking better. Her peeling feet are calming down as well. The doctor is thinking she could have developed a temporary intolerance to the lactose because of a virus (Hand, Foot, and Mouth, anyone?). I'm thinking Lydia can now shed off the stigma of being The Diarrhea Kid at daycare.

Throughout the month of Skin Shedding and Poo, Lydia became very adept at Walking With Assistance (tm), a pastime that my back is not very fond of. If you hold her hands, she can walk all over the place, and Lydia always makes sure she gets her money's worth. I've had a constant backache since this new endeavor began. Now I see why all new parents get so damn excited when their kid starts to walk -- their backs can now begin to recuperate.

In the teeth department, Lydia is now up to four -- her second top tooth finally decided to join the party. Most of the month she was an Itty Bitty Snaggletooth Girlie.

The night before Lydia's birthday, she had another first -- barfing. Technically, she's accidentally gagged herself and thrown up before when she was leaning to eat table foods but hadn't gotten down the chewing part yet, but that was nothing compared to this.

She had already gone down for the night but was fussing, but when I went in her room to give Lydia her pacifier, something didn't smell too good. When I turned on the light I saw she had barfed all in her crib. A mountain of grossness. The Husband and I got her out, cleaned her and the crib up, new pajamas and new sheets and back to bed. She pretty much slept through the whole thing.

Twenty minutes later The Husband hears her on the baby monitor and says, "She threw up again." We went back in there and sure enough there was more barf all in her crib and on her. This time she was wide awake and upset. We had not dealt with this before and I wasn't sure what was wrong. I just wanted to talk to my mother so bad. After we got Lydia cleaned up this time she was still wide awake and just wanted to be held -- I was happy to oblige with some snuggling.

Thankfully, she didn't throw up again and she was a most happy girlie for her first birthday. Something just got her tummy upset. Amazingly, we were also able to clean up and salvage her musical crib bear. It will live to play another day.

I didn't trust myself to take Lydia's one year portrait, so I got a real photographer for Lydia to ham up to. We actually did the photo shoot last Saturday and the pics are totally awesome. So here you go.

I know this is the longest monthly post ever, but I told you this past month was a doozie.

June 23rd

2009-06-23T21:50:00.000-05:00

Happy First Birthday to Miss Lydia (and her Daddy, too)!

An entire year -- wow!

open mouth, insert foot . . . and hand?

2009-05-29T05:51:00.002-05:00

Over the weekend, Lydia broke out in what looked like a heat rash or fever rash. She also had a low-grade fever but for once I was not too worried and I'll be damned if I was going to go running to the doctor for every little thing. Lydia will sometimes run a low fever -- we're talking like 99 degrees here -- for no reason for all then it will go away. Her cousin had a similar rash and her pediatrician said it was a fever rash. Lydia was fine otherwise so off we went to daycare on Tuesday.

That afternoon the daycare was calling me about the rash; they were not amused. It apparently looked similar to Hand, Foot, and Mouth Disease which the Christopher Walken kid -- little girl in Lydia's class looks JUST LIKE HIM -- got diagnosed with earlier that day.

Sigh.

So off we go to the doctor's. When he walked in I said, "Hey, at least it's something different."

And of course she had the Hand, Foot, and Mouth disease, too. It sounds horrible, but you know what it is? A non-itchy rash and mouth ulcers with low-grade fever -- it's just highly contagious.

So she was out of daycare for a day and back yesterday, where she started kissing on another boy that was not her boyfriend so he came up and whacked her. Ahh, young love!

eleven month old taco

2009-05-23T08:00:00.002-05:00

One more month till the Big One. Oh, goodness. I need to get planning!

Lydia turns 11 months old today. This past month she has enjoyed multiple visits from her cousin, Elizabeth. They have had great fun together sharing toys, secrets, and pacifiers. One time they even went grocery shopping together. Thankfully, they have not yet shared any germs.

The relationship between Lydia and Hermione has really blossomed this month. Lydia has gotten very good at 'petting' versus 'hitting' and Hermione loves the attention Lydia gives her and is a very good sport, even when Lydia just grinds her head into Hermione's body (of course, Hermione does this to us all the time). If Lydia is playing on the floor, you will find Hermione very close by.

Here is an excellent moment I caught of the two of them lounging while watching The Emperor's New Groove:

Lydia has been more finicky about food this past month so it's been a bit frustrating. She's getting fed up with the baby food and will tend to swat at it when you try to feed her but she not only doesn't really like table food, she just won't try it. You put different foods down in front of her and she plays with it but doesn't bring it to her mouth. God forbid YOU try to put it in her mouth; she will get all offended. I get lots of notes on her daycare sheet where they offered her things like ravioli or tater tots but she refused it all.

Then the other night, we brought in pasta with my parents from a nice Italian restaurant. I plopped some on her high chair and, as normal, she pushed it around the tray while making her concentrating noise. Then we forked over a bit of her Grandpa's marinara-covered fettuccine pasta. After a few minutes she took a taste . . . then ate it. Then she ate some more. Then she started shoveling it into her mouth just about as fast as we could put it onto her tray. We finally just stopped giving it to her; we were afraid she'd be sick later. She had marinara sauce all over her, but her tummy was full of yummy pasta!

The same night as the pasta night, we made a discovery that we'd been waiting on for quite some time -- her right front upper tooth was starting to poke through! The left one is not far behind.

Though I wrote a whole separate post about it -- see below -- Lydia did get tubes in her ears this past month. We all hope this will end the consistent ear infections. Even though she just got the tubes in last week, she did not have any ear infections during this last month. My theory is since her boyfriend moved over to Infant III in daycare they're not kissing on each other as much and, thus, not as many colds are passed back and forth between the two. Lydia herself moves over to Infant III next Tuesday to be with him again but hopefully with the tubes in place she will be well-armed. She would do better to just stop with the kissing, though.

Lydia is starting to look and act less like a baby and more like a kid. There are times when she's just sitting there and I can tell she's contemplating something . . . I wonder what it is. I wonder if kids ponder about the size of the universe or why chicken tastes like chicken. Most likely she's wondering when she can blow this joint and see her boyfriend again.

hole-punched taco

2009-05-23T07:08:00.002-05:00

Lydia has had a very eventful medical month. As I posted last time, we had our consultation with an ENT at Children's Hospital. We were there for over two hours, with the majority of that time waiting . . . and waiting . . . and waiting a bit more. Thankfully Lydia is a pretty patient girl right now and is only squirmy in her own personal zone. I'm sure that'll change once she discovers walking.

When we were finally in the exam room and the ENT doctor walks in, he comes at us like, "Hi, I'm Dr. Hill; she needs tubes; any questions?" His talking was so NOW and IN THE MOMENT I had to ask and make sure they weren't doing it that day.

So after an initial scheduling of the procedure in mid-June, some phone calls and an additional physical appointment to placate a potentially over-cautious anesthesiologist, the procedure was scheduled for this past Tuesday, May 19th.

We had to arrive bright and early at 6:15 a.m. with a hungry baby. Thankfully she isn't incredibly demanding about food right now. She was much more amused with all the COLORS and the SEATS and the PEOPLE TO WATCH.

She was not amused the the little thing they put on her finger to take her pulse, however. The blood pressure cuff on her leg was no problem, but the thing on her finger was a horror. The nurses there were awesome -- about three of them flooded in to amuse her with words and bubbles while her vitals were taken. Everyone commented on how cute she was, and Lydia already loves a good compliment.

After they finished the vitals and took off the Finger Wrap From Hell, we got our own little hospital room, complete with little kids' hospital bed, rocking chair, sink, and television. The whole place was very nice and kid-friendly. Older kids were driving up and down the halls in little cars, which made great entertainment for Lydia.

This is where we did most of our waiting, punctuated by visits from the nurse or anesthesiologist who really was nervous about her cough. I explained to him she'd been to the doctor more than once about it, her lungs are clear, so it's either allergic rhinitis or somebody's slipping my baby cigarettes. Apparently I said that with too much of a straight face because he wasn't sure if he should laugh or not.

At 8:15 a.m. they finally came to take her for the surgery. She did cry when I handed her over to the nurse but I knew she was going to be fine. She was back there a good 30 minutes and I just chugged some coffee and watched kids and parents go by our door.

A little while later I heard a low, tired-out-from-crying-but-I've-still-gotta-cry cry that was my Lydia. A nurse was cradling her and bring her up to our room. I was ever so glad to hold my baby. The Husband gave her her pacifier and Lydia went right back to sleep. Apparently Lydia could have had her pacifier with her back in surgery but I didn't know that so I had taken it from her.

We stayed there about an hour or so to let Lydia sleep it off some then we headed on home, where Lydia played for a while then had another good long nap.

Hopefully the next cold she gets will just stay a cold. If she would just stop kissing her boyfriend at daycare she would stop getting the colds in the first place.

__________________________________

In addition to having tubes put in her ears, the other thing Dr. Hill did was remove two skin tags that have been on Lydia's right ear since she was born. I've never specifically mentioned them; they've just always been a part of her. I'd always thought of them as her nubbins.

The doctor asked us at the consultation if we would like them removed while she would be in surgery and we thought, well, how often are you in surgery, so we said sure.

Between the consultation and the surgery date I had debated on changing my mind about that. They've never bothered me, they don't bother her, so the only reason we're doing it is for aesthetic reasons -- because some day some kid will say something mean. But kids always say something mean about something. Kids said mean stuff about my red hair and freckles when I was younger but I didn't go back and shave off all my hair or dye it (though I probably threatened it a few times).

But we went ahead and let the doctor do it; I think mainly because I was caught by the IT'S OUR ONLY OPPORTUNITY feeling. Right before I handed her over to the nurse for surgery I kissed her little nubbins on her ear; I knew it would be my last chance before they'd be gone.

When she came back from surgery and I saw her nubbins were replaced by stitches and a steri-strip, I knew I regretted it. That wasn't my choice to make; it had been her's. I think it will be one of my very few regrets in life.

But what's done is done. She's still my happy, smiling, blue-eyed girlie; nubbins or no nubbins.

ten month old taco

2009-04-27T20:18:00.004-05:00

Ten. One zero -- double digits. That's a lot of months, unless you're counting in binary, and there's only 10 types of people in the world: those who understand binary and those who don't. But I digress.

Lydia was a busy bee of a girl this month. Crawling continues to be her main source of enjoyment because of all the things she can get to. The world is her oyster. Sometimes life is just ducky, especially on her forehead.

One of those Why Didn't We Do This Months Ago moments was Lydia's first bath in the big tub. She loved it and scooted up and down the tub while Mommy tried hard to scrub her down. A few baths later we figured out the best way to give Lydia a wash without breaking parents' backs is to sit on the side of the tub with feet in the water. So much easier on Mommy.

We visited the zoo again where Lydia participated in her favorite pasttime, people-watching. She kept a safe distance from the flamingos this time and got to meet some colorful birdies. People-watching is the best, though.

It was yet another sickly time with two more ear infections and I'm quite positive we're on the road to getting tubes in her ears. We meet with an ENT tomorrow so we shall see. Poor Lydia has gotten way too used to being attacked with medicated syringes. Every time we lay her on the changing table she cringes.

Easter came upon us this month and Lydia got to check out what the Easter Bunny dropped off for her. She enjoyed her first camera just like Mommy's and a new book. Notice the Santa jammies.

After we checked out her basket we got ready to go down to Auburn with her grandparents to visit her cousin. They had a great day of fun together playing with each others' toys. Elizabeth has some pretty spiffy stuff. We think they made a secret plan beforehand to NOT SMILE when the grown-ups tried to get nice pictures.

Right before she turned ten months old, Lydia began to perfect the fine art of pulling up. Oh, glorious day! She is oh so pleased with herself and yet frustrated because she can't seem to just walk on from there. Crawling is now old school -- walking seems to be the next goal. Eating table food is not on her List of Goals.

hey waiter, there's a tube in my taco!

2009-04-22T20:26:00.002-05:00

After the last ear infection I wrote about, Lydia's doctor figured we'd give her immune system and the impending Spring just one more time to make friends before we walked down the path of tubes.

Unfortunately, that friendship just will not be attained. After a week of snottiness, coughing, and grumpy girlie we were back at the doctor today where yet another ear infection was diagnosed. This time there was no questioning the next course of action and a consultation appointment with an ENT was set post haste.

It is just a consultation, though; getting tubes in her ears isn't a forgone conclusion yet. However, with five ear infections in three months, one would think . . .

sick taco, the sequel times [large_number]

2009-04-06T21:01:00.002-05:00

I spoke too soon about the antibiotics thing. Poor Miss Lydia came up with a fever last Friday and I knew it was another ear infection; that just seems to be her forté. By that evening she was swigging down a NEW! TASTIER! antibiotic, though the NEW! was mainly so her infection wouldn't get immune to the regular stuff. Tubes for the ears were mentioned and an appointment was set to discuss it.

She was back to her happy self again the next day and we even ventured back out to the zoo again. This time, she had a hat.

Today, though, I got a call at work from her daycare. She was lethargic and didn't want to play; she just wasn't my happy girl. By the time I came to pick her up she was starting to run a fever again.

The doctor checked her out and her little ears are still infected. She got a huge shot and we're heading back Friday anyway for our consultation about the possibility of tubes.

My poor girlie. Will she ever know of a life without the syringe of sticky medicine? Will doctors ever quit poking her with shots? Will she ever successfully get a hold of Mommy's necklace to chew on? Stay tuned!

nine month taco

2009-03-29T13:32:00.002-05:00

Wow, this past month has been a busy one for Miss Lydia! This is the month she became mobile and the entire family's lives have changed, including the cats'.

A few days into her ninth month we were playing on the floor when Lydia decided she'd really like to be closer to Hermione so she made an attempt. Success! The Husband, myself, and Lydia were pleased. The cats seemed worried.

And thus began my obsession with floor cleanliness. This can sometimes be difficult with the cats' penchant for barfing in hard-to-clean areas but I have been keeping up with it. It is either that or let Lydia find an errant cat claw to test for chewiness. Note to Lydia: NOT CHEWY.

A few days after the Wonderful World of Crawling opened up, we woke up one morning to find out that sometimes snow in the forecast does indeed mean snow on the ground. We had a beautiful Snowy Sunday and Mommy got a ton of pics.

Exactly a week after our Snowy Sunday it was a balmy 80 degrees when we headed to the Zoo with our friends to see all the animals. Lydia enjoyed being outside and watching all the people around her. One of the flamingos honked at her and she thought that was rather rude.

As Lydia crawled around and became more exploratory we began to realize that soft toys that just sit there don't seem to keep her interest as they once did. Now she wants her toys to DO something. One night The Husband pulled out a loud, obnoxious toy she got for Christmas -- her Aunt and Uncle picked it out because of said loudness -- and she was in heaven. We only finally stopped playing that night because she was about to fall flat asleep, much to her irritation.

It still was a sickly month -- there were two (I think) ear infections but now that it's warming up hopefully we'll all be healthier. Poor Lydia got so used to the antibiotic syringe she would just lay back and take her medicine, swallowing it back with a sour face. We are now antibiotic-free for a full five days and counting, and that can put a smile on anyone's face.

A wiggling, scooting Lydia has been the biggest, most sudden change in the household since the girlie actually arrived and we've all had to make adjustments. I actually clean the floor, The Husband is inventive with new things to amuse her plus ways to keep her away from ALL THE CORDS, Renton has had to widen his clearance pattern, and Hermione is getting used to letting herself be caught and/or poked in the eye. And just wait 'till she gets fast!

She is a girlie on the go. Below is the fruit of a lot of labor, so I hope you really really really like this picture.

I think that taco's so old it could get up and crawl away

2009-03-14T21:39:00.000-05:00

eight month taco

2009-03-01T20:43:00.002-06:00

Lydia turned eight months old last Monday. Now it's March, and you only have to say April, May, JUNE!!! and we've got a birthday comin'. Goodness.

For me, this past month has been a whirlwind. Everybody has just been so sick, including me. There was some serious downtime for each member of the family. Even Miss Lydia had to fight off both an ear infection and two crazy parents trying to stuff medicine down her throat. She's very good at the latter.

We changed her morning breakfast from bottle only to a mix of oatmeal and applesauce with a bit of milk to wash it all down afterwards. The first couple of days she looked at me like I was nuts but on the third day she was scarfing the oatmeal like a ravenous baby bird, though she still gets quite excited when the milk is offered up at the end. It's like a dessert. Bonus if she scores the spoon to play with once she's full.

Though not crawling yet, Lydia figured out her own way to be mobile: roll. Once she realized rolling actually got you somewhere new, rolling around seemed 'worth it.' The trick was to position herself in such a way so she would roll to what she wanted. This takes some strategy. It's like the knight piece in the game of chess.

Speaking of rolls, Lord, does this girl have 'em. All along her arms and especially her legs she is rolled like the Michelin man. Sometimes when she's chillin' with her toys on the floor I'll just massage those legs. She has such great skin. For a while I was wondering what the feeling of her skin reminded me of and one day it hit me -- warm pizza dough. Not that mix stuff; the handmade kind of dough that you lay to rise on the counter. There's a taughtness to it right before you roll or throw it out into a flat pizza shape. Wonderful.

Lydia finally had two new buddies show up in her life -- her bottom teeth. They peeked through the last week of January. At first she wasn't sure what to make of them. She would constantly push at them with her tongue as if to get them out of her way. She's used to them now and enjoys gnawing on hard stuff to see what damage she can do. The chair I'm sitting in now has little teeth scrape marks on one of the legs.

It was a very vocal month for Miss Lydia. She started off with the 'daa' sound and she was a big fan of that for quite some time. So was The Husband. After a few weeks she found 'baa' and 'maa' on the same day and from there she started mixing and matching like a mad chemist. Listening to her gabble in the car is much better than any radio station out there. Some of the best noises, though, are unintentional. For example, she can be a great snorer.

Now it's March, Spring's around the corner (though you wouldn't know it by looking out the window today), and hopefully some warmer weather will come in to dry out all this sickness that everyone's getting. I know Lydia's tired of wrestling with her crazy parents and their icky medicine syringes.

the taco's first snow

2009-03-01T10:29:00.001-06:00

(eight month report coming soon; she's been a sick girlie)

a seven month taco

2009-02-01T09:27:00.003-06:00

Miss Lydia is now a whopping seven months old! During her seventh month she also entered the new year of 2009. Suddenly, June and her first birthday does not seem that far away.

Soon after she entered into her seventh month Lydia experienced the whirlwind that is the Holiday season. She is always keen on being the center of attention, and she got her wish multiple times over the course of those few days.

Once the Holidays were over and it was back to the normal routine, a notice appeared outside Lydia's daycare room warning us parents to watch for signs of RSV (a respiratory virus) since one of her buddies had been diagnosed with it. "Ahh, great," I thought. "Just watch Lydia be the one to come down with it."

That Sunday the three of us were gallivanting around Birmingham when Lydia's little post-nasal drip cough started to turn into something worse and she started to look worse real quick. The next day she was diagnosed with a respiratory infection and that silly thing just did not want to go away. She still has a slight cough, in fact, and so do I.

It was the second of three times we were at the doctor's office that Lydia finally did something I never thought she was going to do. We were waiting on the doctor so I propped her up in a sitting up position and in her enthrallment at my buttons and scarf, she forgot to fall down! She started sitting up! I was so pleased I started taking pictures on my four year old phone's camera. (Hint hint ho ho to The Husband -- I DO need an iPhone for moments like this!)

Lydia was on the mend just in time for her cousin's Dedication at her church in Auburn. She got to dress to the nines and impress many people, plus the added bonus of playing with her cousin, who is now showing as much interest in Lydia as Lydia shows in her.

One day Lydia came home from daycare with a new syllable -- "Hieee-dahh-dahh." Sometimes she whispers the last "dahh-dahh" bit -- "HIEE-dahh-dahh." This is The Husband's favorite thing she does.

"Say it! Say, 'da-da,'" he'll prompt. She grins at him and will usually oblige. They feed off each others' smiles.

taco covered in presents

2009-01-10T11:20:00.003-06:00

Just now are we really settling down from the holidays and I can sit on my bootie for a minute to share with the Internets Lydia's Fun Christmas Day.

Lydia had a special visitor at her daycare right before Christmas -- the man himself, Santa Claus! Lydia was more than happy to sit down with him for a picture.

We had a small Christmas the weekend before with The Husband's grandparents, who were in town from Mobile. That night she officially got to unwrap her first present with her Daddy's help.

Business picked up on Chrimstas Eve when the families from both sides got together for Christmas Crab and ornament exchanges. Lydia got quite a few ornaments. She was most pleased with the ones she could chew on.

That night she slept well while Mommy and Daddy were up late cooking and generally stressing out. It's hard to coordinate something huge like Christmas with something that needs a schedule like a six-month-old. I greatly look forward to the time when it will be Lydia who can't sleep all night because she's just so damn excited that Santa really is coming 'cause Daddy showed her EXACTLY where he is on Google Earth and we all know that Google doesn't lie. EVER.

So the next morning a well-rested Lydia wakes up to frantic parents gathering up presents, wrapping Oreo truffles, and cleaning up cat puke off the couch -- Renton's Christmas gift to us. By the time we're headed off to my parents' house it's time for a nap. This actually worked out -- we did adult presents while she was zonked and once we were done, she was up and we laid out the task before her.

Her and her cousin became literally buried in presents -- we had to keep moving them behind the kids so we could see their faces -- as we unwrapped. Lydia was mesmerized, especially by anything shiny. Her ladybug was a pretty big winner. Mommy likes her hat.

After oatmeal and a good nap, it was time to pack up and have Christmas Part Deux with The Husband's parents across town. We pack up and off we go.

Lydia was ready to be wowed again after her long nap and she wasn't disappointed. She enjoyed checking out all her toys and clothes.

Poor Lydia! Mommy has a habit of sticking bows on heads. The cats know this and keep out of range.

Soon after, Miss Lydia was quite worn out for the day. She had been in a great mood and had a blast. We all slept pretty deeply that night.

six month old taco

2009-01-03T17:09:00.002-06:00

Lydia turned a whole six months old back on December 23rd. I had every intention of writing this post then but before I blinked it was Christmas Eve, then Christmas, then more Christmas, then I felt a slight breeze as the end of 2008 flew by and HOLY CRAP IT'S JANUARY! So here we are.

Soon into her sixth month Lydia got to experience Thanksgiving Day as her own person. A year ago she was an itsy bitsy blueberry-sized thing when The Husband announced her impending arrival to an incredibly shocked collection of family and friends. This year she got to play with her buddy, Syon, who was also present in utero at last year's Thanksgiving.

Right before Thanksgiving we were very worried about how Lydia would behave. She had been screaming as if someone was trying to poke her with needles for three days. Even her caregivers at her daycare were flummoxed. Then, almost as if by accident, The Husband figured it out -- Lydia wanted to stand all the time. ALL THE TIME. Stand, stand, stand. You just have to hold her up for balance. Suddenly, her legs were the best toy she'd ever had.

From there, everything became interesting -- all the toys, the kitties, Mommy's shiny necklace -- everything must be grabbed. Lydia was most pleased with herself the day she figured out how to pop her pacifier back in her mouth the right way.

Lydia got real serious about different foods this month. She started getting rice cereal at daycare almost daily and throughout the month we went through all the vegetables and applesauce. I never would have thought it, but peas are the #1 absolute winner, even over all the fruits so far. This girl could eat her weight in peas.

Despite three months of chewing, drooling, and otherwise "teething" there are no teeth to show for it yet. She doesn't seem to be all that impressed with teeth in general.

A few days ago The Husband and I were looking back at some pictures of Lydia from back when she was first born. How did she go from a six pound wiggily infant to a 15 pound bouncy, laughing child in two seasons? Mitosis is an amazing little wonder.

no vulgarity around the taco

2008-12-11T19:37:00.002-06:00

The Husband and I thought that once Lydia arrived, our more swarthy habits would phase out on their own. That has proven to not be the case.

After a particularly loud burp while holding the girlie, we decided we should do something to curb our habits. The 'quarter in a jar' trick was quickly ruled out due to lack of quarters. Then I pounced on a plan.

"Okay, if I burp or cuss I have to wash the bottles (usually The Husband's job) and if you burp or cuss you have to clean out the litter box (usually my job)."

"Whoa," replies The Husband.

We had to think about it a minute before agreeing to the plan with farts added in. Both of these chores are completed on a daily basis and are abhorred by the other party. As a bonus, if one commits an error and is doomed to an extra chore, then all the more incentive for the other party to not commit a foul.

I knew I was going to be the first person to mess up. I knew this because while thinking I was going to mess up, "mess" wasn't the word I was using in my mind.

Not ten minutes later, however, I was proven wrong when a loud belch was heard. I looked up to see a shocked expression on The Husband's face, holding a smiling Lydia. He totally cleaned the litter box.

Of course, just as he was finishing up, I let loose with a loud belch while playing on the floor with Lydia. I found myself in the kitchen soon after, washing a mess of bottles and pump paraphernalia.

This is going to be really hard.

five month old taco

2008-11-24T20:38:00.002-06:00

Yesterday Lydia turned five months old. Happily, a Sunday, my optimistic self thought I would be able to post this on the day itself but, alas, Lydia decided it would be a Screaming Day. So here we are.

Lydia's grabbiness continued this past month, so the Excersaucer was set up for her. There is a lot of crazy stuff on that thing to play with! It keeps her quite entertained if she's in a good mood, but once she's ready to get out she will let you know. Her little legs barely touch the bottom right now. Soon she'll figure out the thing can bounce, too. Ohh, the discoveries that are yet to be had!

Halloween came about this past month, with more holidays soon to follow. No other holidays let you dress up as whatever you fancy, though. This year Lydia was a Ladybug. Her Nana was much pleased, as I had been hinting that Lydia would make an awesome Baby Vampire. Bluh!

More experimentation was performed this month in the form of rice cereal. Lydia doesn't yet seem to be too keen on the taste and I am certainly not too keen on the mess. So when does she start making her own sandwiches?

For quite some time, Lydia would never nap in her crib, though she slept awesomely there at night. For naps, she would only conk out on the couch. That made me nervous because of the cats -- one clumsy one, one snuggly one -- and once Lydia started rolling over, we knew that had to stop. This past month, we seemed to have worked out the problem . . . somewhat.

She has to have a blanket. Specifically, a soft, white minky-type blanket her Great Aunt Susan gave her.

This is a great big NO-NO in the Rule Book of SIDS, so I am constantly checking on her with it. Speaking of which . . . be right back . . .

Giggles are here in earnest. It's quite easy now to get her to laugh, but do so at your own risk. You will most likely send her into a fit of hiccups that will last for about 30 minutes or so. The Husband always thinks it's worth it. She certainly doesn't seem to mind, either.

Lydia's biggest frustration in life right now is the dastardly event known as teething. Her gums bother her more and more each day -- it's my number one suspect for yesterday's screaming event. Anything near her mouth is fair game for chewing, including me. Her poor hands are feeling the brunt of that, though.

Every day I check: any teeth yet, any teeth yet? I have this vision that once the first two pop through the rest won't be as frustrating. Reality probably isn't so shiny, but it gives me something to hold on to.

It certainly gives greater weight to that age-old song "All I Want for Christmas Is My Two Front Teeth." I hope Santa comes early to this household.

wash your hands after messing with this taco

2008-11-08T17:01:00.002-06:00

Over the past week we've experimented a bit with rice cereal. My God, what a mess. I'm not really sure how much Lydia is actually eating. Right now I think she has confused the concoction with bubble gum and she spends most of her energy blowing millions of small bubbles with the gooey stuff.

I have to keep a wet paper towel close by to wipe her off occasionally or else I just can't stand it. And, man, if she reaches up and sticks her fists in her mouth before I can catch them, EEEEEEEE, it's just an absolute disaster.

I think I have something I need to let go of, because I KNOW it's going to get worse from here.

the scariest costume ever

2008-10-31T17:33:00.003-05:00

Apparently Lydia had a slight case of the runs today. She blew through all the clothes she had at daycare so by the time I arrived to pick her up, she was in "daycare clothes."

They're pretty scary. I told Lydia she was already dressed for Halloween. She could go as a Four Month Old With Diarrhea. That's scary as shit. Literally.

four month old taco

2008-10-26T13:23:00.002-05:00

Last Thursday Lydia turned four whole months old. That's a third of a year -- quite an old taco! So much has happened this past month, as well. She has been quite busy.

First, she became a cousin three days into her fourth month with the arrival of her cousin, Elizabeth. We are all glad that Elizabeth is finally here, and Lydia is pleased to have a buddy.

This month was also Lydia's first real sickness with an impromptu trip to the doctor, medication, and everything. She recovered very quickly, thankfully. She certainly did better than me -- I had about a month-long sinus infection during this time that I could not shake. I'm sure we were an absolute blast for The Husband.

Lydia discovered her hands could grab things -- on command! -- and she has made great use of this new superpower. Fingers, bibs, itty bitty toys, Mommy's necklace . . . anything that swings by she'll take a swipe at it. She keeps her claws at the ever ready.

Sometimes, The Claws get confused and just grab each other, producing an entanglement of fingers. It's like a puzzlebox.

To top off a month of many changes, Lydia figured out the fine art of rolling over the other weekend. Ever the ham, she waited until she had an audience of seven with cameras already out before she did it. She likes attention and loves to watch people watching her, or even better, talking to her. If in the right mood, she will talk right back.

This girl has been so much fun. Every day she is doing something new. She's actually making it hard to keep up. I keep waiting for her to stand up, toss her pacifier to the side and announce, "Okay, I'm off to college. See ya!"

I'll just run behind her, hollering, "Wait -- one more picture!"

this is how we roll

2008-10-19T08:46:00.000-05:00

2008-10-18T05:15:00.002-05:00

A year ago today I found out we were going to get a little taco, and thus this blog was born in secret. It's been a wonderful, crazy year that has gone by quite fast, though there were very slow moments.

I've got to say I am most pleased with the outcome :)

getting better

2008-10-13T22:20:00.002-05:00

Miss Lydia has quickly been getting better. She was cleared to go back to daycare on Friday and is all smiles and giggles. She is still taking the Pink Bubblegum Medicine through most of this week but hopefully that is all she'll need.

She is not a fan of that medicine. I can't imagine why; I loved that stuff as a kid. That and Histussin were the only two medicines I would willingly take -- I was a bear with anything else. Oh, Lydia, you have no idea what horrible concoctions await you in the world of medicine. You will relish the pink goodness of amoxicillin soon enough. It's one of the few tasty ones.

She's already learning her own ways of resisting. She has figured out how to spit out some of the medicine very cutely by blowing bubbles with it, her eyes smiling.

She might be like me with medicines, I'm afraid. I was known to try to hide the stuff from my parents or drink so much water afterwards I'd throw it all back up. My parents praised the day I learned to swallow pills.

I can hear my parents chuckling now, thinking, "Hahaha, vengeance."

poor sick taco

2008-10-08T06:45:00.003-05:00

About a little over a month ago Lydia got her first cold. No biggie -- just a lot of boogers and it died down pretty quick. All the boogers never really went away, though. There was just enough to be a morning nuisance.

Last week she started tugging on her ears. Admittedly, I did know what that could be a sign of, but she had gotten so grabby with everything lately and seemed like such a happy baby otherwise that I didn't think much of it other than to put more lotion behind her ears because, WOO!, they sure were red from all that tugging.

Two days ago, Lydia starts up with a horrible, racking smoker's cough. Somebody's been slipping my baby cigarettes! After mildly admonishing her that she really shouldn't start smoking until she's 19, a doctor's appointment was scheduled.

After the general poking, prodding, and two chest x-rays -- the technicians were expecting a screaming baby but she actually smiled for the camera -- we found out my poor baby has not only an ear infection (way to pay attention to the signs, Mom) and bronchiolitis. Apparently bronchiolitis is like bronchitis but in the smaller passageways. Nice.

Being an asthmatic myself, I have hoped and prayed that Lydia will get her Daddy's excellent health. I almost cried when the doctor started talking about way-too-familiar drugs like albuterol and Aerochambers. She was about to go into detail about the workings of a spacer when I stopped her. Don't worry. I know. Belieeeeve me.

This doesn't mean she will get asthma or allergies, but it's still a big downer for me. After seeing Lydia get the jittery shakes from the albuterol last night I don't think I'm going to give it to her anymore (which the doctor said is totally cool).

I pray it's just a fluke and she will get stronger from this. She did sleep very well last night and hopefully she is on the mend.

I hope she doesn't get sick again for another 20 years because I don't think my heart can take it.

three month old taco

2008-10-06T20:03:00.002-05:00

Lydia turned three months old wayyyy back on September 23rd. A few days later things got real busy around here with the arrival of her cousin and other accouterments of life, so I'm a wee bit late with this post. Bad Mama. The internet will never forgive you.

A few days into her third month Lydia slept through the night for the first time! There was much celebration to be had. There really was no turning back from that. Sometimes there was some 2 a.m. fussing for a pacifier but once that night feeding was gone, man, it was GONE. Through-the-night sleeping makes for very happy Daddies.

We also got A New Thing -- a vibrating papasan chair. At first I was against anything vibrating because I was afraid she would get too used to being soothed by it. However, we gave in once we realized the swing did not amuse for long periods of time and she did love the one at daycare. I'm all about the vibrating papasan chair now -- it lets me get ready for work.

Also soon into her third month -- many new things seem to happen right after a month milestone is reached -- Lydia discovered her hands fit wonderfully into her mouth and BOY do they taste good! She never goes for any individual fingers -- it's always the entire fist. As a side effect, her hands are now constantly wet and clammy, which makes for an excellent cat hair magnet. I'm always having to watch for the cat hairs.

The world is beginning to amuse her. We get big smiles every morning, especially after she's just eaten or if she's just had a really big poo. We're starting to get a feel of her personality: she's a morning person, bright-eyed and bushy-tailed, but is quite crabby by the evening. She likes all the attention she can get and likes to entertain. She reminds me of my sister. She knows when she's got an audience and is starting to know what to do when I get my camera out: pose.

We made a daycare switch this month so now I am the one picking her up and dropping her off each day. She is on the road and away from home less and handled the change with no problem at all. She hangs out in her papasan chair each morning while I gussy myself up. I put on my suntan lotion while explaining to her why I have to do it each day: "Mommy is a vampire but she wants to go outside like normal people." Lydia grins at me and kicks at her bunny. Poor girl -- she's half-vampire herself. She just doesn't know it yet.

the orgin of the taco

2008-08-30T07:41:00.002-05:00

So . . . why taco? Most people say bean, right? As with everything, there is a story to the taco name.

Last October The Husband and I boogied down to Columbus, Georgia on a Thursday afternoon to meet my sister and her husband. We were going to see George Carlin -- live! We were very excited, and looking back, we are all very glad we went to see him since he passed away the night before Lydia was born.

We were trying for Lydia by now -- I had another week to find out I had her. I had suspicions that my sister and her husband might be trying for their own child but wasn't sure.

The four of us were waiting for the show to start and discussing our dinners. The Husband and I had had Wendy's, I think, and my sister and brother-in-law had enjoyed some tasty tacos.

"How was your taco?" my sister asked her husband.

"Most excellent," he replied. He rubbed her belly and asked, "And how is your taco?"

There was this split second where my sister looked kinda funny, looked at him, then said rather guardedly, "My taco is fine."

"Oh, my God -- they're pregnant." I thought.

It turns out they weren't, but wouldn't you have thought that, too, what with the belly rubbing and taco questions?

So, less than a week later when I saw those two pink lines, what else could it be BUT a taco?

two month old taco

2008-08-29T21:09:00.002-05:00

Last weekend, Lydia turned two whole months old. Crazy how fast it's going. She became more awake this month, though since nothing really interests her yet, being awake was very boring to her and she would get all mad. It wasn't until recently that she started reacting to to stuff like The Husband and I making the goofiest faces we could come up with.

At about six weeks there were some horrible nights where Lydia would scream and holler. We didn't know if we needed to tire her out more or try to work out more burps or if she was just a mad mad baby. She would get to sleep but then flail herself awake with her wiggly arms and legs. Even the swaddle couldn't hold her back.

After we implemented some tips from family and friends, there was a huge change for the better. We ditched the swaddling for footie jammies, got her to nap as soon as she showed signs of fussiness, and we figured out she prefers to sleep on her side. Now she's more comfy, and we're more well-rested.

This past month I've really started to feel like a mom. The first few weeks Lydia was here I felt more like a long-term babysitter for someone else's kid. Now that she's reacting back to us and really starting to show off her personality the realness of having a daughter is pouring over me. We're a family. How awesome is that?

The family keeps growing, too. On Lydia's two month birthday we threw a baby shower for my sister, who is due with her first in a few short weeks. We all can't wait to meet Lydia's little taco cousin.

the taco goes to school

2008-08-17T20:23:00.002-05:00

Tomorrow I go back to work, and thus Lydia will have her first day of daycare. On the one hand, I am looking forward to going back to work and am pleased that I still want to have a career. Many people told me I would ache to be a stay-at-home-mom once I had Lydia, and I didn't want to be miserable once my maternity leave was over.

On the other hand, I feel a horrible guilt that I am looking forward to going back to work and leaving poor Lydia in the care of strangers. Why would I not want to be with my baby girl all day? I'm a horrible mom.

Nevertheless, work and daycare are just another sleep away.

Speaking of sleep, it's been a long, hard week. The first half of the week was horrible, sleep-wise. Lydia just screamed and screamed, refusing to go to sleep, not sleeping long, it was just horrendous. The Husband and I were very frustrated and felt like the most horrible of parents. I dreaded the night.

We talked with a few people who assured us this was normal and we weren't on the path to laying down a horrible childhood for Lydia. We got some tips for some different things to try -- we switched from swaddling her flailing legs to legged jammies and we found she preferred to sleep on her side. This plus more sleep during the day and a dash of the rocking chair led to a perfect night the past three nights. Apparently sleep begets more sleep. Here's hoping we're starting a trend.

Lydia had her two-month appointment on Friday. She is now a whopping 10 pounds 9 ounces and 22.5 inches long! Unfortunately, she got the first set of a barrage of shots. There were four long shots in her thighs plus an oral medicine. Ohhh, I have never seen her eyes get so big nor her face so red. My poooor baby -- the tears did flow!

I'm so glad she won't remember a bit of that.

a month-old taco

2008-07-28T06:47:00.002-05:00

I can't believe Lydia is already over a month old. In fact, she's five weeks old today! She has grown so much, too. Lifting her head is practically a piece of cake, and boy does she eat a lot. I would guess she's about nine pounds by now.

After three weeks of easy burps and seemingly drug-induced sleeps, Lydia's digestive system screamed, "Hey, I'm not ready for this yet!" and thus we entered the gassy stage. The Husband and I now work really hard to get out every last burp and sometimes that's still not enough, prompting Lydia to produce this nonstop wailing cry that absolutely tears at your heart and eardrums.

If any good is to find of my poor baby's gassy tummy, it's once she has worn herself out from crying, she will have a good, hard sleep of four plus hours. Last evening she slept from 7:30 to 12:00 with only a brief 'hold-me-now' moment.

I'm looking forward to the day when Lydia discovers her true superpower -- she can actually control her flailing arms and legs. Right now they have a mind of their own and their goal is to shake Lydia awake with their constant wiggling. Swaddling is her only defense.

A milestone was reached last week -- Lydia went with us to her first restaurant outing. She did wonderfully. It is no small feat to sleep while visiting an Applebee's during a loud lunch hour. She also visited the mall and Babies R'Us -- Mommy's favorite store.

She's also great for snuggling during movies. I think she'll be a snuggler for many years.

home with the taco

2008-07-11T10:29:00.004-05:00

Lydia's been with us for almost three weeks now. Being home with her has been wonderful. In fact, so far it has been a bit easier than I expected. I'm not sure if that's because I had lower expectations or if Lydia is just an agreeable baby.

We came home late Wednesday night after she was born. The cats were ever so glad to see me, but they were stressed because I'd been gone so long and we brought home this screaming pink thing. The first time Lydia cried the cats scattered to the opposite ends of the house. Once Renton tried to reach through the cradle to touch her and The Husband gave him such a hard smack Renton saw stars. He hasn't tried that again.

The first night at home with her wasn't too bad. She was a very sleepy baby for the first week or so of her life, so we had more of a time trying to wake her up so she could eat. She slept for good three to four hour stretches the first night and I actually woke up rather rested.

The cats were much more calm the next day and we gave her her first sponge bath. At times she was not amused with the process.

Lydia had her first pediatrician's appointment that Friday and the doctors were slightly concerned that she hadn't started to gain weight yet. She was down to 6 pounds 3 ounces. They also wanted to make sure the little booty dimple she has wasn't connected to her spine, so we had to take her to Children's Hospital for a booty ultrasound the next Monday, then bring her back to the pedi's to re-weigh her.

Thankfully, her booty dimple is just that -- she did really well with the whole ultrasound experience. Her weight was back up to 6 pounds 10 ounces as well, so the doctors and us were very pleased.

During her second week Lydia became a little more alert each day. She began to focus more intently on our faces and was making tons of different facial expressions. Many of her expressions look just like her Daddy.

This week The Husband had to go back to work, so it's been me, her, and the two cats. At her two week appointment she weighed in at a hefty 7 pounds 5 ounces and even gained an inch in height!

The cats seem very used to her now. The main thing they really want is attention and loving which I try to give to them as often as I can. Whoever is holding Lydia tends to get a Hermione in their lap as well. Renton is happiest on his chair cushions.

The other day Lydia got her first piece of mail! It was from the government, of course -- every once in a while they can be quick with stuff. Inside was Lydia's bonifide Social Security Card, so she's officially here in the eyes of the U.S.A. I have a new number to memorize.

I do not miss being pregnant at all. I'm so glad she's finally here -- she's much more fun outside than she was inside. She never stops being cute. Hermione has finally met her match.

taco delivery

2008-07-05T09:55:00.003-05:00

Now that we all know Lydia is here -- she'll be two weeks old on Monday! -- I figured I would write up how she got here. Be forewarned: this is the longest post EVER.

On June 10th at my OB's appointment my doctor gave me the option of inducing at 39 weeks because of my high blood pressure issues. My BP had been fine during the pregnancy but it could rear its head suddenly the closer we got to my due date. So we scheduled an induction for the morning of June 23rd -- The Husband's 27th birthday.

I had already talked to The Husband about the possibility of Lydia arriving on his birthday and he was fine with it. He said she would make a good birthday present.

Even though we now had The Date, the only people The Husband and I told were work-related. We weren't going to tell our family until she arrived. I'm a rogue, a rascal, a villain, a thief, a scoundrel and a mean, dirty, stinking, sniveling, sneaking, pimping, pocket-picking, thrice double-damned no-good son-of-a-bitch; I know.

And so we waited in silence for two solid weeks. The last weekend before the 23rd was LONG, but our friends unknowingly kept us amused with a barbecue dinner and a trip to the Dairy Queen. I watched the sun set behind Oak Mountain on the 22nd while eating my hot fudge sundae at the DQ. Tomorrow was the day.

We arrived at the hospital bright and early at 6:30 a.m. and were led to the delivery room, which was very nice indeed. I gowned myself up and climbed into the bed.

I got an IV and the labor drugs started to course through my veins. Soon after, my doctor came in and broke my water, which was the weirdest feeling. There was quite a lot of it and it just kept on coming out since the IV was constantly putting fluids in me. I felt kind of unsanitary.

Most of the day was just spent waiting. At 10:30 a.m. I went ahead and got the epidural. Getting that didn't hurt at all -- the worst part was the intense scrubbing the anesthesiologist performed on my back.

Around 2 p.m. I reached five centimeters. Soon after that I started running a fever so they hooked me up to antibiotics. Lydia didn't like the fever too much so they gave me some oxygen for a while.

At 5 p.m. I reached seven centimeters and my fever started to go down. I was starting to guess we would be well into the night before Lydia arrived. The time frame was starting to present a problem because people were trying to get in touch with us to wish The Husband a happy birthday. We were calling people back when we got a chance and were monitoring the answering machine at home, but we were about to hit crunch time soon when most people would try to call.

The contractions were getting more intense and even though I had the epidural, I could definitely feel them. They weren't painful, there was just a lot of pressure that got more intense. There was a point around this time that it went from intense pressure to pain very quickly. By the time the anesthesiologist arrived to give me a boost in my epidural, I was in tears.

At around 6:20 p.m. I was ready to start pushing. I got kinda scared at this point because THE TIME HAD ARRIVED and I wasn't sure if I was going to be able to do this part. The nurse gave me some instructions that went in one ear and out the other, and we started to push. Even with the epidural the pressure and urge to push was incredibly intense. There were a few times when the nurses had me rest through a contraction and that was even harder than pushing.

My doctor arrived and her and the nurses felt Lydia would arrive by the 7:00 hour, but that time came and went. I had read that the time involved in pushing would fly by swiftly no matter how long it actually takes, but I definitely remember the time it took. Near the end, I would just about fall asleep between the contractions, muttering about how tired I was. What was really wearing me out was holding my breath so long. The Husband was excellent -- he constantly told me how good I was doing, how proud he was of me, and how much he loved me. He was wonderful.

A little after 8:00 p.m. Lydia was very close to arriving but we had to wait 15 minutes for my doctor, who had go perform a c-section first. That was a very long 15 minutes.

The doctor finally arrived and there was a whirlwind of activity around me as the nurses got ready for Lydia. By this time I just wanted to roll over and go to sleep -- I was so incredibly tired. Finally, at 8:26 p.m. after five hard pushes in a row, Lydia decided to arrive. I had pushed for two whole hours. She came three minutes before her Daddy's birth time of 8:29 p.m.

As soon as she was out I felt soooooo much better. They cleaned out her mouth and nose and put her on my chest, and there she was -- my little baby girl. I was shocked at how much hair she had. The Husband cut the cord and then they cleaned her up, weighed her, and brought her back over.

It was a wonderful overwhelming feeling to have her in my arms. The tiredness went away completely and I knew the entire experience had been absolutely worth it. I'd do it again in a heartbeat.

We finally got to call our family and tell them about The Husband's birthday present. Never have I loved my husband more than when I saw him holding Lydia and I could tell he had fallen completely, irrevocably in love.

I feel wonderful and accomplished.

June 23rd, 2008

2008-06-24T08:18:00.002-05:00

Well, we've gone from this:

to this:

when your clothes don't stretch, other things do

2008-06-22T12:16:00.003-05:00

Well, 39 weeks today. I'm about to start getting REALLY ready. It's hot outside and I'm craving some raw, raw sushi.

Also, despite what I was expecting, I have gone through this entire pregnancy without any stretch marks at all . . . until last Tuesday. I'm THIS CLOSE TO THE END and now they show up?! Come on, dude. We are not amused. They're really not bad all; it's just the timing of it.

Overall, it hasn't been a bad pregnancy at all. I'd just rather have her here now. I'm not going to miss being pregnant.

bad reception

2008-06-19T08:06:00.001-05:00

Apparently I am not in tune with my inner moon goddess. Ahh well. I guess I should just hope that I am in tune with my due date! Only a week and a half, yo!

lunacy

2008-06-17T06:35:00.003-05:00

"It is the very error of the moon,
She comes more near the earth than she was wont,
And makes men mad"

-William Shakespeare, Othello

Ahh, yes, there is a full moon tomorrow (12:31 p.m. central time, to be exact) and we all know the full moon can fill up ER waiting rooms, the back seats of cop cars, and Labor and Delivery beds. I do hope I am in tune with the lunar goddesses.

Overall, I am still feeling pretty good. I'm as ready as I think I'm going to get, but I'm not going bonkers. Going to work helps with that, I think. I might sing a different tune if it gets to, say, July and she still isn't here yet. Then I might consider the horrid castor oil.

Renton the cat seems more nervous and paces around even now. He senses it and is not amused.

the end is nigh

2008-06-07T12:31:00.002-05:00

Ahh, June is here! Now we really are getting close.

I think The Husband and I are as prepared as two naive parents-to-be can be. Everything's ready at the house minus a few odds and ends. I think there will always be odds and ends. Now I'm just ready to get this show on the road. It's about time for a rare steak and a good sleep on my stomach.

It's also starting to get really freakin' hot outside. Summer is here and it makes me sweat profusely. Just yesterday my feet were attacked by a horde of vicious, bloodthirsty mosquitoes. It was the longest drive back to my office where the sweet, sweet Cortizone cream lived.

Right now it's a race to see what lasts longer: this pregnancy or my maternity clothes. It's going down to the home stretch! (get it??)

roundy!

2008-05-31T12:06:00.002-05:00

I figured I'd please everyone with another picture. Here I am yesterday. If you look at me straight-on in this shirt, you really can't tell I'm pregnant. Just last week I was offered a margarita. I wish.

Four more weeks, give or take.

that's so stupid; I'd never do that

2008-05-23T07:09:00.002-05:00

Things I Said I'd Never do when I was Pregnant (But Now I Do Them All The Time):

1. Touch/rub my belly all the time

I always thought it was so silly to see pregnant women in movies always touching, rubbing, or otherwise bring notice to their very pregnant belly in movies -- Big Fish comes to mind here. Both my sister and I agreed: real pregnant women don't do that. How stupid.

Oh, my God -- I do it all the time! Not even thinking about it, my hands go right to my stomach, rubbing it, massaging it, or just resting on it. I do it because my stomach is usually hurting or I just want to feel Lydia move because it's neat.

Either way, I was wrong, and I shall beg my forgiveness on the internet.

2. Forget things

I have an iron-clad memory for the important stuff. Not necessarily what hotel room number we stayed in at Gulf Shores in the summer of 1991 -- I mean important things like YOU HAVE AN APPOINTMENT AT 2:30 TODAY. I never wrote that stuff down. That wasn't going to go away.

Ha ha ha.

One of the many things I've forgotten is the other stuff I was going to put on this list that I thought of this morning. There was other stuff. I forgot it.

Dammit.

You think I'm trying to be funny but I am so serious. I had this all written out in my head BUT IT IS GONE.

Ooh, I just thought of a new one but now I'm so irritated at myself I'm just not in the mood anymore. Poop.

look at all the things!

2008-05-13T07:27:00.003-05:00

I had my shower this weekend, and it was absolutely the awesome. I'll post some pictures once I get them up.

Tell you what, though. This girl will not want for clothes for quite some time. She is set! I've been working on organizing through them, starting with removing the tags and washing them all so we don't run into the problem of "Has this been washed yet??" when she needs a change of clothes.

Man, if I ever see one of these things again . . .

. . . I will cry. I hate them. Carter's gets especially tag-happy. There's got to be a better way to attach tags to clothes.

please wait six to eight weeks for delivery

2008-05-08T07:24:00.002-05:00

Ever since I hit the 30 week mark, I've been more in a countdown mode: 10 weeks to go, 9 weeks, 8 . . . It's like counting down for the space shuttle. Right now I'm at 7.5. It's a slow countdown.

I'm feeling pretty big now. For the longest time I really wasn't gaining much weight, but then the Hungry As A Bear stage hit and BAM! I gained 11 pounds in five weeks. I know I'm pregnant and all, but that's still a hard blow to the morale. All that weight better be on her.

Lydia moves around a lot, especially at night. At night she likes to see how sore she can make her mommy's tummy. I've also been having those Braxton-Hicks contractions, but other than that, I feel pretty good. No heartburn, nothing is swelling up, so I don't have many comp laints except I want her to hurry up and get here -- or at least I wish June would hurry up.

Ooh, I gotta go pee again.

smile for the camera, sweetie

2008-04-29T06:57:00.002-05:00

After three tries, we finally got a good look at what Lydia looks like -- and she's cute, albeit stubborn!

six months down

2008-03-30T19:52:00.002-05:00

And three months to go! I'm entering the 3rd trimester today, so we're on the final third of this journey! I am certainly ready for Lydia to be here -- I'm ready for a RARE filet mignon, among other things.

I figured I would please y'all with a belly shot. Don't look at the dirty mirror!

making preparations

2008-03-23T08:48:00.003-05:00

Woo, I'm 26 weeks today! Only 14 weeks to go, give or take -- maybe she'll come a bit early. The Husband and I are getting more excited to meet her. She seems to be getting more excited to meet us as well -- her movements are a lot stronger. Sometimes you can even see my stomach move. It's wild -- like really kickin' gas.

I had to make the move to maternity shirts a few weeks ago. They're much more comfortable, but they certainly scream, "I'm pregnant!" There's no hiding anything with those tops.

Yesterday my dad and The Husband painted Lydia's room and also put together the crib, which finally came in.

They still have to paint the corners of the room (ran out of paint!) but that'll probably get finished up today.

my bladder is not my own

2008-02-27T06:19:00.002-06:00

The constant peeing thing that many pregnant women talk about is beginning to come on. I'll be sitting or laying down, perfectly fine with the world, but when I get up and Lydia shifts DOWN, it is instant alarm bells. I've already freaked The Husband out once running to the bathroom crab-legged.

I'm not making it through the night anymore either. There is a nightly half-asleep pee session at some ungodly hour every night now. Thankfully I can go right back to sleep.

One good thing, however. That good feeling you get when you pee? It is much, much higher -- very hard not to make happy noises at work.

now with pictures

2008-02-26T06:20:00.002-06:00

Funny how 'tomorrow' can keep dragging on and on until you're looking at two weeks later.

Anyway, here are those pictures I promised.

tacos with pink icing

2008-02-12T21:13:00.001-06:00

Well, we have a little She-Taco coming! Happy day! We've got pics but I haven't had time to scan them yet. I'll have to do that tomorrow.

the Knowing Day

2008-02-12T09:54:00.000-06:00

Ahh, today is the day we find out and I am ever so excited. Pink or blue; boy or girl; and all that jazz. It is a slow day today -- our appointment isn't until the afternoon. Poo.

My apple bites are keeping me company. I'm in a fruit-eating kinda mood.

I guess I should try to work.

Crazy R Us

2008-02-10T08:25:00.000-06:00

We're getting closer to the big day -- we find out whether it's a HeTaco or SheTaco on Tuesday afternoon. Excitement!

A few weekends ago, it might've been last weekend, I went with my mom to Babies R Us and was totally freaked out by all the STUFF there was. STUFF was crammed into every free spot available -- you could hardly move around without running into it, and most of it looked like crap anyway. Do we really need all this STUFF? Shriek shriek scream scream! I couldn't look at a thing.

Yesteday was better. For one, we didn't go into the Crazy R Us store. Also, perhaps I got over the STUFF a little bit. Also also, I prefer the store layout and feel of places like Pottery Barn Kids. I have high tastes, even though I can't afford it sometimes.

And so I made my bonifide first purchases for the Taco. I found a diaper bag I liked and The Husband will be able to carry around and still hold on to his manliness and I also found a baby book -- the kind you fill out, not an owner's manual. Mom also got me a blanket and I bought a baby blanket for a friend of ours who had her baby last week. I haven't seen it yet but The Husband has and said he had a full head of hair. Our baby's gonna be bald as Renton's overlicked stomach.

I also saw a crib I liked. Oddly enough, it was at the Burlington Coat Factory. They have more than coats now, apparently. We'll probably end up getting that one because The Husband didn't seem to have too much of a preference.

He is so sweet, though. I don't need him to care about baby furniture. Yesterday morning we noticed I've got a noticeable little bump when I lay on my back and then he proceeded to talk to The Taco. He told it we're going to teach it its numbers the right way -- 0 through 9. That's how the programmers do it, he said.

waking up now

2008-01-16T20:18:00.000-06:00

I had my 16 week appointment yesterday and got to hear the heartbeat again -- still going strong. Crazy that I'm 16 weeks along already. I also got to schedule the next appointment which will include The Sonogram where we get to find out the gender. Only four weeks away! Then we'll know if we've got a HeTaco or a SheTaco.

The past six weeks or so I've felt extremely tired but the past few days that seems to be finally fading away. It has sucked since I haven't felt like doing anything at all, especially anything creative. Thus the lack of posts. I've also neglected my camera, which is unlike me. Here's to the more awake days of the second trimester!

I'm kinda, sorta, baaaaarely starting to show now if I look really close, but so far I've only gained four pounds though I feel like I've added 15. Yesterday I also might have felt the baby move; I'm not quite sure. It was a bubbly feeling then maybe some tapping. I was also gassy at the time, though, so it's hard to say. I had the biggest fart about 10 minutes after that. The Husband was so proud :~}

boingy

2007-12-22T18:06:00.000-06:00

My doctor's appointment on Tuesday went well. It wasn't a huge one; the doctor just listened to the heartbeat -- a fast 130something per minute -- and talked about how the pregnancy was going so far.

I had another appointment yesterday at the university medical center downtown to have a first trimester screening ultrasound. It wasn't required but we decided to go ahead and do it. Everything they look for in the ultrasound came out fine, and we got to see the Taco again. For the first time, it looked like an actual baby!

It was really awesome to watch the Taco move and jump around. It really did like to jump -- boingy, boingy, boingy! It's about two inches long right now. How cool.

Sadly, we won't be able to peek inside again until our next ultrasound at 20 weeks, sometime in mid-February. Then we'll be able to find out the sex. Exciting!

still here

2007-12-17T06:34:00.000-06:00

Yeah, I hadn't really dropped off the face of the earth or anything. These past few weeks have just been so tiring. It's amazing how quickly I get tired lately, but I think that is starting to wear off. There were some days where I would come home from work and absolutely fall asleep on the couch, wake up long enough to eat some dinner, then go to bed.

My next doctor's appointment is tomorrow, so hopefully that will go smoothly.

It's been hard to do stuff for Christmas this year, mainly because of the tired thing. It took us forever to finally go shopping. Now we've shopped, but I've still got to wrap presents. I'm going to try to do a little bit each day. I've got about a week to get it done! The cats already tried to get into one of their shipped packages.

Crazy to think that this time next year there'll be a six month old crawling around, trying to get into the litter box. Hopefully we'll have found a better place for that. With one cat, just the smell alone will chase you out of the room. God knows what her little nuggets taste like.

sweet release of secrets

2007-11-22T18:41:00.000-06:00

Ahhhh, that was wonderful. So now our family knows -- it was so awesome. Everybody was shellshocked, especially my mother.

Sadly, my camera's batteries were out of juice and I didn't notice it until right before we sat down, but no matter. I'll never forget the expressions on everyone's faces for as long as I live.

I am so tired now -- totally beat. It's been a long day!

the time is nigh

2007-11-22T07:37:00.000-06:00

Ooh, Thanksgiving Day! A time to celebrate family and the expansion thereof! I woke up early this morning -- I tried to go back to sleep, but alas, I felt like a schoolchild on Christmas morning. So up I got and had some Cocoa Puffs to start the day.

People will start arriving in about four hours, but we will still have to keep quiet for another hour or so until we all sit down to our Thanksgiving meal. Gosh, it seems forever!

I started cooking the stuff I need last night. A lot of buttermilk and eggs were worked through. The cranberry sauce is made and I will start to mix up the dressing here in a short bit. I was dead tired when I finished but I didn't do anything compared to The Husband, who has single-handedly cleaned the entire house, top to bottom. He is an absolutely amazing man.

I wish I wasn't so tired. I like to think optimistically that I'm saving all my energy for when the baby gets here.

"Hey, Waiter! Bloody Mary -- O positive."

2007-11-20T17:42:00.000-06:00

Our second OB appointment was today. I was both looking forward to and dreading it -- looking forward because I like to know our baby is still doing okay, but dreading it because we might find out something's wrong. There never was a worrywart like an expectant mother.

Our baby, happy to say, is doing wonderfully. We got to both see and hear the heartbeat, which was a fast 173 beats per minute! It was amazing to actually see that little heart flutter.

We got to have another picture of our little Taco, too. It's upside down -- the head is at the bottom and the round thing at the top is the yolk sac. It's heart is on the right side in the middle.

In less than 48 hours is Thanksgiving, and all our family will know. Giddyness upon giddyness.

____________________________

But now comes, what was to me, the unexpected kicker. We were going over my progress, upcoming tests, and other such. My OB mentioned my blood work was normal, then she says, "Oh, and you have O positive blood; didn't know if you knew that, but thought I'd tell you."

BOOM.

I'm sure the look on my face was of utter shock as I said, "What? No, I'm A positive."

She double-checked her papers but that's what the lab tests showed. She asked how I knew and I replied they tested me when I was a baby. It's written down in my baby book.

This knowledge has really blown my mind. I always closely identified myself with my blood type. I'm not quite sure why; the only explanation I can think of is because of the science-y/genetic aspect of it. In school, I was always proud that I knew my blood type -- a lot of my classmates did not. We used blood types as an example when learning the Punett square technique of genetic probability, and I found it fascinating.

Apparently I didn't know what I thought I knew.

How could they have mis-typed my blood when I was born? Did they even really test it or just assume since both my parents were A positive that I would be, too? Surely not. I'm just astounded. I can't WAIT to talk to my parents about this.

why did they have to pick that guy? what a horrid name!

2007-11-14T17:28:00.000-06:00

I'm still battling the Mild Nausea War. Yesterday I bought some SeaBands bracelets that help with motion sickness and other forms of nausea. I think they're helping, too. At first I wasn't sure but when I took them off to take my shower this morning I quickly started to feel worse and couldn't wait to get them back on once I got out.

I've noticed the weirdest thing. There is a word, a certain word -- well, a name, actually -- that will bring on my nausea whenever I hear it. This is sad because the newspeople on NPR won't stop saying his name. Ugg, I can't even type it, it makes me feel ill. Suffice to say, it's the name of the new Attorney General they've just sworn in, hence the nonstop blathering on the news.

It isn't to do with anything political, it's just that his name is so closely related to another word that has been making me feel ill lately because I've been sick. Once again, it nauseates me too much to type it, but it's like boogers, but not as fun and more slimy. Eww eww eww.

If you come up to me and say his name, I might barf on your shoes. You have been warned.

________________________

On a happier note, a week from tomorrow is Thanksgiving and we'll finally get to share the news with our family. We're going to have a full house, too -- there will be 12 people here counting myself and The Husband. Ohh, the looks on their faces . . . I can't wait. Can't wait, I tell you!

Next Tuesday I have my next doctor's appointment with the OB. They're going to do another ultrasound, so this time we should be able to clearly see the baby and hear the heartbeat. I do hope everything is okay. I feel so crummy that surely everything must be fine.

________________________

Ooh, The Husband is home! I hope he is pleased that I finally got off my butt and started dinner. It's the only productive thing I've done all week! He's so patient!

feed me, Seymour!

2007-11-10T08:39:00.000-06:00

My Horrific Cold of 2007 seems to finally be breaking. I am ever so happy since the horrible cough wasn't helping the morning sickness at all.

This week was the first week where I had all day bouts of nausea. That plus the cold really slowed me down at work. Thankfully there's been no barfing yet, and the nausea has let up some the last two days.

On one side, that is awesome -- I hate the feeling of nausea. On the other side, my Worrygear(tm) sets in; I begin thinking, "Oh no, I'm not sick -- there must be something wrong." I'm trying not to fret on it too much and just attribute the lack of barfy feeling to the miraculous little wonders known as Reese's Snack Bars that I force myself to eat before I even get out of bed.
I'm certainly still eating a lot. Kinda disturbed by that -- I have a fear of gaining 50 pounds during this process. But sometimes I HAVE TO EAT NOW. A few days ago I was in my office and I realized if I don't get a McDonald's cheeseburger right now, I'm going to barf. It was 10:00 in the morning. Best-tasting cheeseburger McDonald's has ever made.

Need to stop eating so much; this is stupid.

a bizarre feeling

2007-11-07T19:30:00.000-06:00

It is truly a bizarre sensation to feel absolutely, completely nauseated and at the same time be quite hungry; so hungry your stomach is growling in a most unpleasant fashion.

So what do you do?

I have learned that you get a Subway sandwich at 9 in the morning. Just eat it slowly. It will last you until 2 in the afternoon.

Incidentally, Subway is AWESOME for serving sandwiches at this time of day. They get a gold star from me.

one step closer

2007-11-02T07:27:00.000-05:00

Every day I feel a little closer to barfing. Eww eww eww.

Dear God, just let it be at the house.

dirty little liar

2007-11-01T19:51:00.000-05:00

My mother called me last night to tell her her best friend is going to be a grandmother. Her son and his wife are expecting their first child next June -- a day after I'm due, actually. I just grinned and nodded while we talked about that. I know my mom's ready to be a grandmother as well. Little does she know.

Later I talked to my sister about the same baby news. Since the topic was all baby, she eventually flat-out asked me a question: "So are y'all ready to have a baby yet?"

I pause a moment, vividly aware of the little Taco growing inside me, and say, "Nooooo . . ." I go on to say how the cats keep me happy and occupied.

I hope I lied well enough. The Husband thinks I didn't pull it off and now she knows. Well, we'll find out in three short weeks.

That's right -- three weeks. The Husband and I quickly decided that there is no way on God's green earth we're gonna be able to wait until Christmas to hold this secret in, so Thanksgiving is the mark. It really works out well. Both of our immediate families will be gathered in one spot -- it will be huge. It might even make The Event of the Week!

Now if I could only rig up my camera to snap a picture right when the cat's out of the bag to get a shot of everyone's faces. There's gotta be a way.

it grows

2007-10-30T19:11:00.000-05:00

Each day I feel more reassured and less worried about our little taco growing inside me. Yesterday we had our first appointment with the OB and it went wonderfully. It was our first time to meet her, and we reviewed everything that had happened so far and the ER escapade. She feels right now everything is quite normal and progressing well. At one moment while we were talking, I had a weird thought: "Wow, she's going to be the one to deliver our baby! We're going to have a baby . . ." Wild.

And the best part is right here -- The Taco's first picture:

They could see the yolk sac as well, though it doesn't show well on this picture. Technology is awesomely mindboggling.

___________________________

Yesterday I told my boss. Even though I'm so early, I felt I had to, really, especially since I was MIA most of the ER day. I can't quite recall for sure, but I think I actually used the phrase, 'I'm a little bit pregnant' when I told her. Ha, I'm such a goof. I do know I started off with, "I think there's something in the water here," because two other guys that work there are expecting with their wives.

I was nervous about telling her because I have not been working there very long yet and haven't established myself. I want them to know I still care a great deal about my career and I certainly plan to continue to pursue it. When I was gearing myself up to tell her I was expecting those type of questions since, hey, this is work, but it was totally the opposite. She was very supportive and excited for me. We talked a lot about pregnancy in general -- morning sickness, fatigue, no more wine -- and not a word was mentioned as to how this will affect my work.

It's a great relief to know I am supported there; such a weight off my shoulders.

b-b-but Sudafed was my friend and I loved him!

2007-10-28T07:57:00.000-05:00

Remember I mentioned The Husband wasn't feeling good last week? He had a hell of a cold. He slowly started to get better as the week went on and I thought, "Ha! I'm in the clear -- I didn't catch it!" Then Thursday morning rolled around and I woke up with the rawest of throats. Oh bugger.

I am so used to self-medicating myself when I get sick like this. Now I can see just how irritating it is to read, " . . . as with all medications, if pregnant or breast-feeding please consult a doctor before using." I think it says that on vitamin bottles, too. So I don't take anything and put in a call to my OB's nurse.

She calls back later in the day and says, "Well, since you're so early, we'd prefer you not use anything at all . . ." Oh, my God; seriously? She continued, ". . . but you can take Sudafed, Benadryl, and Tylenol." Yeah, but to me, that first sentence is what I'm going to try to go by, especially since the scare from earlier in the week. I will take nothing and like it.

At least, until this thing turns into a sinus infection, as colds tend to do with me. I hope antibiodics are okay.

will I have any blood left when they're done?

2007-10-24T17:35:00.000-05:00

Today was More Bloodwork Day, but I didn't mind. I'm one of those weird people who like to watch the needle go in my arm anyway. All the people at the OB's office were extremely nice and helpful, and I was so grateful for that. They went ahead and scheduled a regular appointment with me next Monday no matter what the blood work showed so we can make sure everything is okay.

They called me back this afternoon with my new HCG level and it is 882, which is a really good rise. My baby is still growing, and all is well so far. It's the first time I've felt relaxed all week.

Today is also the first day I really had what I would call nausea, though I was still a very far piece from barfing. Just an uneasy, queasy feeling I've had most of the day. I did eat lunch, though later on I wished it hadn't been leftover pizza.

a scary day

2007-10-23T20:27:00.001-05:00

Yesterday was not a fun day. I noticed I had some light pink spotting when I went to the bathroom so I called my regular doctor since I didn't have an OB yet. They told me to make my way to the ER to make sure I wasn't miscarrying. Though that was the worry going through my mind ever since I first noticed the spotting, hearing someone say the word is about the worst.

So after a morning meeting at work I headed up to the hospital and called The Husband to let him know what was going on. He's been fighting a head cold so he left work to be with me -- his co-workers thought he was just going to the doctor, which wasn't that far from the truth.

We were there for six long hours. They asked many questions, took a lot of blood, and I even had my introduction to the vaginal ultrasound, though I am so early (4 weeks, 1 day yesterday) they didn't expect to see anything, and nothing was seen.

The doctor's final verdict -- other than "we can't really know for sure, and we couldn't do anything about it anyway" -- is he felt I was not miscarrying. He gave me a 75% chance in favor of being all right. They told me to take it easy and watch out for more spotting which, knock on wood, I have not seen any more of.

Also, at the end of the day, I got my OB referral in from my GP and my first appointment is in 2 1/2 weeks. However, I called them today to inform them of the ER thrill ride and they want me to come by tomorrow for some more blood work, which I am actually ecstatic about. See, they can actually measure the amount of that hormone that makes home pregnancy tests possible -- the amount in your blood should rise at a certain pace every 48 hours. Yesterday mine was 380. Hopefully it will have risen tomorrow. That's the logical, science-y part that my brain can wrap around when I'm feeling so worrisome otherwise.

A long way away

2007-10-20T06:17:00.000-05:00

Surprisingly, I didn't cry when I told The Husband. He was really so happy I just grinned as much as he did.

When I handed him the package of baby stuff covered in Fanatic Fan images, I told him I saw a cute shirt in Wal-Mart and I just had to get it for him. He proceeds to pull out a baby onesie and holds it up against his chest for a moment. He told me later that his first thought was, "This is not going to fit me at all. What was she thinking?" A few seconds later and then it clicked.

"Oh, my God. Are you serious?" he asked, looking from me to the onesie.

"Yeah."

"But you told me it might take six months -- oh, wow!" Then he proceeded to hug me and cover me with kisses and take me out to a lovely Italian restaurant, where I almost choked to death on my ceasar salad because sometimes I forget how to chew.

_________________________

It's really hitting us how far away Christmas -- and thus, our mark for telling family and friends -- really is. A couple of times over dinner a friend's name would come up and The Husband or I would get excited about telling them about our news and then we'd remember -- we want to wait. Damn.

Even before I knew I was pregnant, I had already thought of how I'd tell the family via the if-I'm-pregnant-this-cycle-this-is-how-I'd-do-it route, and it worked out great since I would tell everyone around Christmas. A perfect excuse to hand out gifts to everyone!

The Husband tells me he will wait until I tell him it's okay to spill the beans -- it's my decision. Don't tell me that! I can think up any number of logical excuses to use Thanksgiving instead. The family will be gathered together as well -- in fact, more will be around. Besides, I guarantee you my mother-in-law will figure me out before Christmas anyway. She is good like that :-)

I am practically dying to pick up the phone and call my mother right now. It's 6:34 a.m.? So what? Eight weeks is a long, long time when you have the best secret in the world.

A BFP and spontaneous hugs in the store

2007-10-18T17:52:00.000-05:00

I actually didn't even intend to test this morning. It surely would be too early -- no need to prematurely crush your hopes and all that.

But then I got to thinking, "You know, you have three of those little buggers. You wouldn't be that upset if you don't get that second line yet, now will you? It's like a science experiment!"

So there you go. All good science experiements should involve human pee.

And the first thing I said?

"Where's my camera?!" Yep, that's me.

_________________________

I do have another weblog that I have regularly posted to for quite a few years now, but since everybody I know and all my mamma's friends know about that site, I'm gonna keep all the oh-boy-we're-havin'-a-baby stuff hidden away deep within the internet until we, you know, tell people. Hopefully I can keep my trap shut until Christmas. We'll see how that goes.

Right now, at this very moment, only two people in the world know. Myself and the lady that rang me up in the Fanatical Fan Sports Store in the mall. I went by there earlier today to get some Fanatical Fan-branded baby gear to break the news to The Husband with. At first the lady guessed I was going to a baby shower.

"No, actually . . ." I replied, " . . . and, oh my God, you're the first person I'm actually telling, but I just found out I'm about to have a baby, and this is how I'm gonna tell my husband . . ."

At this point I started to loose it, then she started to loose it, and she ran around the counter and gave me a big hug and her congratulations. It was a wonderful moment, actually, and the first time so far I've had a happy cry about the news -- of course, I've only known positively myself for about 12 hours.

The Husband will be home soon, then three people in the world will know. I know I will cry when I see the look on his face.