beanski

seventeen months

It has been a big month of changes for Miss Renee. She got a new brother, some new teeth and confessed her obsession with The Jonas Brothers to her parents.

There were countless temper tantrums and her screeching has turned into a growl when she's frustrated. I have had to tell myself at least a bazillion times to not get frustrated with her because she is going through such a big change. But it's been hard. She seriously went from a very good eater, sleeper and generally happy little girl to crying about naps and screaming about being in her high chair. It has to get better, right? Please quick, SOMEONE tell me it will get better.

She's a dramatic teether and it stresses me right out because she currently only has SIX TEETH. What on earth is going to happen when she gets eye teeth? And god forbid molars? The thought makes me consider jumping off the High Bridge.

In the midst of the tantrums though there was a sweet little girl delivering her brother's suckie and saying BABY and wanting to sit in the bouncy seat and the Bumbo and in the activity gym. You can see it in her eyes that she wants to help and when we praise her and make her part of it she seems to do a lot better. We're all learning. She also loves to play PEEK-A-BOO all day long.

I have no idea how much milk she should be drinking a day but she LOVES it. She chugs the entire glass the minute you give it to her like she has never had a thing to drink before in her life.

She can't climb up the stairs without collecting dust bunnies on the way up and she'll sometimes stop and start picking at her fingers for no reason at all. And I realized that we need to be careful about our mannerisms because she is clearly picking them up. I ALWAYS pick up dust bunnies on the way up the stairs and her dad spends at least half of his days looking at and picking at his fingers. She's a sponge. The word list is well into the 50s or 60s. I had her saying WHEESK (whisk) on Thanksgiving, she says POOP, Pee Pees, Mow (More) about EVERYTHING. She can say Eyeball and can repeat most of the letters in the alphabet when I sing her the ABCs. She still says Rama! Papa! every.single.time the phone rings.
 

She has her dad wrapped around her little finger and she knows it. The other night he actually set Cameron down in his crib so that he could come in while I put the crying toddler to sleep. Sure, she is CONSTANTLY saying I WANT DADDY but CRIPES. I think he thinks I can't do it.
 

The obession with The Jonas Brothers is by far the most entertaining thing she has done this month. Our daycare provider has a 14 year old daughter and once Becky told me that she liked The Year 3000 by The Jonas Brothers. I didn't think much of it because, well, her dad and I are sort of music snobs and SURELY our daughter wouldn't like a boy band. But then the day after Cameron came home Ski was at Target shopping and decided to buy her the CD as a guilt purchase (you wouldn't believe the new toys and books the kid has gotten in the last two weeks). When he put it in the CD player she got a look of total awe on her face and immediately started dancing. Then pointing at the CD player and saying MORE!! Then to top it off they were performing the half time show for the football game on Thanksgiving and I'll be damned if she didn't stop everything she was doing and stare intently at the TV. When it was over, she immediately started demanding MORE. And now at random times she'll point at the TV and demand MORE or she'll look at the CD player and demand MORE. And she is particular about which at which time. Today we put on the half time show and she wanted the CD and she wasn't afraid to tell us. Apparently The Jonas Brothers demographics stretches well into (pre) pre-teen girls....as in SEVENTEEN MONTH OLDS. The purist mother in me thinks she MIGHT be a little young to be worshipping teenage boys and part of me is like, well at least she likes some sort of music. And she is too little to understand. But it feels like a bit of a double standard because if she was like eight or nine I'd be all like ABSOLUTELY NOT.

Finally, my favorite this month. She is fascinated with buckles and trying to figure out how to get everything open. FASCINATED. It's the only time she shuts up :)

so incredibly thankful...

...for little Mu Shu Chicken who refuses to let either her dad or I out of her sight without whining and moaning Mama! Daddy!...she must really love us a lot...

...for my little dude and how mellow he is during the day...even if he thinks it is acceptable to keep me up all night...

...for my sisters and my sister-in-laws and for how incredibly supportive they have been...especially over the course of the last two weeks...

...for wonderful friends to spend the holiday with, and for the DELICIOUS pumpkin roll she brought that I can't stop eating...

...for the fact that the local grocery store catered Thanksgiving dinner and it was actually delicious so we got to have dinner without the mess and the effort and could spend our time with our little ones instead...

...for healthly parents on both sides...as a friend my age is spending her holiday this year at the hospital watching her 55-year-old mom die of cancer...

...for the fact that the older I get the more convinced I am in that some higher power must exist because two little boys ages five and seven lost their dad under extremely terrible circumstances earlier this week and I refuse to accept any other explanation other than someone, somewhere has a plan...

...finally, for my husband and for how he makes our little family the best family on the planet...

I have some pictures to post but one of those greatest blessings in my life? He needs to eat. And that's what's important.

overwhelmed.

Ski's sister and her husband showed up to meet Cameron today with lunch, dinner and food for the freezer. They have two small children and yet somehow managed to haul food for a week half way across the state to make things easier on us. I'm overwhelmed by the kindness. Seriously overwhelmed.

I am really struggling with redefining my relationship with Renee. She is overwhelmed by this change and simple things like taking a bath have turned into a struggle. I feel so bad for her. She isn't being mean or bad, but her eyes are sad and she cries at the drop of a hat. And that breaks my heart in half.

You would think that nursing would be old hat seeing as how I just quit nursing her like seven months ago. But I'm failing and am overwhelmed by his lack of weight gain despite me nursing 24x7. I so desparately want it to work and while I know that eventually it will be easier and I haven't had the urge to quit (YET), I forgot how totally overwhelming these first few weeks are.

The difference between this time and last time is that I'm talking about my feelings rationally and not expecting Ski to fix everything immediately. And when I feel like crying for hours on end I'm curling up with my kids and throwing myself into being the best mom I can be. And I'm telling myself that it will get easier. Every single day it will get easier.

This picture overwhelms me because for the first time I look at her and see her dad. Man, I love her. I just hope she doesn't give up on me and that someday she really will understand that me bringing her brother into her life was a good thing.
 

And one of Cam wide awake. He's extremely mellow and sweet and I already can't imagine what life was like without him.
 

random and a little squish

Bullet-style because I have very little mental capacity remaining.

• On Labor: Real labor sucks and I said I CAN'T DO THIS and YOU ARE LYING (when they told me 'good push') at least a thousand times in the 13 hours I labored but the sweet recovery and holding my girl like three hours after the birth of her brother made it totally worth it. My placenta is highly regarded for taking care of my Cam-man for nine months but can kiss my ass for not coming out right away and threatening me with emergency surgery.
• On Renee: Ski got me checked into the hospital after I went into labor and then went back at 6AM to get Renee to daycare for some normalcy. She proceeded to hand our daycare lady her shoes and say MAMA! all day long. Apparently she wasn't fooled.
• On Cameron: He's a pretty mellow little dude but he is shredding my nipples. They are dripping blood. Possibly too much information but quite frankly I'm having a hard time thinking about anything else. His early nicknames are Cam-man and Budderoo. He looks so much like Renee as an infant that it is almost eerie to me.
• On Pregnancy: I miss sleeping. I do not miss being pregnant. After Renee was born, I missed being pregnant by now. This time? Not so much.
• On Marriage: My husband bought me a new lens for "carrying his son around for ten months." My 50mm had been acting up lately and I had been complaining that I want a new one. He was apparently listening. I love him. This time we are more like a well-oiled machine with this whole baby thing and I want to cry every time I look at him. Granted, I cry over pretty much anything these days but my husband? He's a good one.

A Renee funny: She picked up a breast pad and put it on her head and said HAT! It looked like a Yarmulke and I laughed my ass off.

A Cameron funny: The pediatrician felt compelled to tell me that he required the largest size instrument for his circumcision. I plan to tease him endlessly about that someday.

And finally a picture of some baby squish. I took these while Renee was out shopping with Ski today so I don't have a picture of Renee to post with it. Oh, the guilt. The guilt...it just never stops.

one of each

IT'S A BOY! Renee is a big sister :)

Cameron Paul was born on November 13, 2008 @ 5:50PM. He weighed in at 7lbs 12oz and is 20 inches long. We are all doing very well and Renee's first visit with her new brother went off without incident, her saying Baby and slapping him on the head and then going promptly back to playing with her bribes.

Not only did his mama guess 11/13 in the ExpectNet game but both he and Renee were born on full moons. I should have known. I managed to pull off the VBAC, a thought that I am still shaking my head about. I can't quite believe it happened the way it did. It is nice to not be drugged up and in pain and to be going home already tomorrow!!

A picture of our little dude. Not the best picture but a picture nonetheless. I'll post more if I ever have a spare hand again!

when you can't sleep, blog

I fell asleep on the couch at 7:45PM tonight and apparently that has me up at 3AM, wide awake, ready to start my day. Blogging while drowsy is a bit like blogging while tipsy and because I haven't been tipsy in well, let's see, multiple YEARS, this will have to be risky enough. I promise you this post will be boring and probably pointless and most likely lacking of all correct punctuation and propositions. I don't care.

I saw my OB on Friday. Scheduled the c-section for 11/18. I thought I would feel more relieved. I probably would but then she told me that I was dialated to 2cm, totally thinned out and that the head is very, very low and engaged and that she wouldn't be at all surprised if it happened on its own before that. Which is good. But sort of defeats the whole SCHEDULED thing. And now I am back to wanting to have this baby the right way. MAKE UP YOUR FLIIPPING MIND ALREADY. I'm already saying things like, "Well, if I go in on Friday and am still progressing, maybe I should move the c-section back closer to my due date." My poor, poor husband.

Saturday night I started having contractions around 8PM. They weren't all that strong but consistently 8-10 minutes apart. I was up all night freaking out, checking my hospital bags, etc. Then around 8AM yesterday morning they stopped completely. I equate them with the flirty, idiotic girls that I went to college with that used to actually admit to me that they "just like to flirt." My body is TEASING me. I should also mention that because of the way Renee was born with the whole breaking water, c-section 2 hours later thing, I don't actually know what a contraction feels like. So I'm pretty much a first timer. Was that it? Whoa, what was that? It could be a long nine or more days. Have I mentioned that you should feel sorry for my husband?

Renee is talking up a storm and new words are flying out of her mouth every day. The biggest development is that she can finally say HELP...which we're hoping is going to save us from the fits of rage over everything that she is trying to say but can't quite get out properly. Yesterday she was trying to put her puzzle together and instead of lining them all up with their proper match and then screeching because she doesn't have the patience to practice her fine motor skills and just wants us to put them in the flipping slots already, she looked me straight in the eye and demanded "HELP!" She is so fun to be around right now. Also: hard. She is sick of me struggling to take care of her, I think, and wants DAD all of the time. She stood outside the bathroom door and screamed for him yesterday while he was in the shower. She wants nothing to do with me. I don't blame her but that doesn't make it any easier. I couldn't do anything but sit in the chair next to her and cry right along with her. Ski came out to find us both sobbing our heads off and he looked at me like "What the heck is going on?" The poor man.

Ski's mom bought Renee this hilarious little outfit with a skirt and matching tights and when I put it on her for the first time, I laughed for hours. I had never dressed her in tights before and something about her toddling around in tights and Mary Janes made me laugh so flipping hard. Then I promptly got online and ordered her about fifteen more dresses with matching tights. Because I could use the comedic relief. The picture is appropriate because BEEP, BEEP! about the bus and HOO! HOO! about owls are her two favorite things right now. I love how she purses her little lips just so and then says HOO! HOO! in this sweet, innocent little baby girl voice. I know you don't care but I do and it is almost 4AM now and I'm the most pregnant woman and town and well, HOO! HOO! is all I've got.

into unchartered territory

As of yesterday, no one can accuse me of having another pre-term baby! No looks from the nurses, no worry from the pediatrician, NO, NO, NO, we are FULL-FRICKING-TERM.

Whooo Hoo, Rah Rah, Yippity do da and and all of that.

This whole full-term business, you know what that means? That means it is time for the baby to come on out. Like right now would be fine. I'll even settle for tomorrow morning. But another three or four or five weeks of this? NO THANK-YOU.

All of you poor souls that were a week, or {GASP} two weeks late with your children, you deserve that medal that some people think you get at the end of childbirth. You know, those of you that don't take drugs and labor and give birth at home with a doula rubbing your temples. YOU CAN HAVE THE METAL. IT'S ALL YOURS. Because there won't be any stinking medal for this fat, contracting mama. Nope, nope, nope. I will make them cut this baby out of me before I am even allowed into the games to compete for the medal. I'll have a sweet, soft baby to cuddle with, what would I want with a metal anyways? 

I'm being slightly over-dramatic here. It is not that bad. Well, it is but really, I can live through it. Or can I? Each day is a different version of that dialog in my head. The day where it is not so bad is promptly followed by a GET THIS BABY OUT OF ME RIGHT NOW day.

I see my OB tomorrow where I plan to tell her that I want to schedule a c-section. And that if the baby decides to come on it's own before then, we'll go for the VBAC. Yes ma'am that is my final answer. Me, the wishy-washy-can-not-make-a-decision-for-the-life-of-me patient is done. D-O-N-E. Let's get this show on the road.

She told me last week that my chances of a successful VBAC are around 30% considering that my septum is totally pushing the baby off to one side and that she "has no idea if my uterus will even contract enough to get me dialated." Follow that up with testing positive for Strep B and having to deal with that during labor. Follow that up with a discussion with someone who labored for EIGHTEEN HOURS TWO WEEKS AFTER HER DUE DATE and still ended up with a repeat c-section. Follow that up with how tired I am and the fact that I have ONE pair of sandals that actually fit on my feet (it is supposed to snow here this weekend) and quite frankly, I don't have the energy. I was tough last time. I did the version. I SO wanted a vaginal delivery. I wanted it so bad that I was depressed for weeks (or was it months?) about things not going my way.

This time I'm doing it on my terms. I will do it on a day where my mom and dad will be here to take care of their granddaughter and to give her lots and lots of extra special attention. On a day where I can wake up rested and ready and go to have a baby and not be rushing to the ER in the middle of the night with toddler in tow. Is it what I've always wanted? No, not really. Am I trying to find the silver lining to make myself feel better? Perhaps. Do I think it is the right thing for me and my family right now at this moment? You bet your ass I do or I wouldn't be doing it.

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This post is also my super secret way of trying to coax the baby to come out on it's own before the big day with the red circle on the calendar. I made up my mind; surely the baby will have other plans, RIGHT? RIGHT, BABY? Reverse psychology works on my first-born, it is bound to work on my second.

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To you MANY people out there that voted on the name choices but I still have no idea who you are: Go make a guess in the ExpectNet game because I'm locking it down tomorrow afternoon. Or leave me a comment and tell me something funny to make me feel better. Like I said last time, you wouldn't want to miss your chance as that would be a travesty of epic proporations.

and so history was made

I voted on my way to work yesterday after a very realistic dream that had me convinced that I was going to end up in labor and would miss my chance to vote in the most historic election I have seen in my (almost) 30 years. This is the third presidential election that I had the privilege to vote in and the very first that the person I voted for actually won. Today is the first time I have woken up on the morning after the election and felt a sense of hope, of excitement, of change.

When I saw Obama take PA and then OH, I knew it was over. I sighed and thanked the people in this country for giving me hope. For giving my children hope. My faith in humanity, in the goodness of others, was restored because America said enough is enough and demanded change.

For the first time in my adult life, this country, the United States of America, felt united. At least it felt united to me.

I know there are plenty of people that didn't vote the same as me and are feeling that sense of fear and frustration that I felt after the last two elections and I feel for you. I understand that your views do not necessarily echo my own and I think that it is important that both sides exist for the sake of questioning what is right and what is wrong. Your side will win again and the tides will shift again as that is the nature of the democracy we are all so lucky to have.

I wasn't going to post anything political at all on this site until I realized last night that this blog is the journal of my life and of my children's lives. And when these words are printed to be permanently preserved for them to look back on someday, I don't want them to wonder why their mom didn't feel compelled to mention one of the biggest events to ever happen in her lifetime. I don’t want them to wonder if I cared. I don’t want them to wonder why she didn't stand up and say that she is proud that the color of his skin didn't stop one extremely charismatic, honorable man from being elected to the most powerful position in the world. I don't want them to wonder in 50 years on which side I would have stood.

I hope that I can teach them to become empathetic, kind, sharing individuals who see the world the same way as I do. The way the world was shown to me by my parents. I hope that I can show them that there is something out there bigger than me, bigger than them, and that it is our responsibility to help those that are less fortunate than us. I hope that I can teach them how to see the world for what it should be and what I hope it will be rather than for what it sometimes is. And if they see things differently? That’s OK too.

Today is a big day, the beginning of a new time in this country. I know that I have expectations that are probably too high. But the hope, the excitement, the enormity of it all that I feel today is something that I won’t easily forget.