catnip and coffee

Okay, I really am a terrible mother. I knew his sneakers were getting a little tight. He never complained though.

Today we happened to be at the oh-so-addictive Target, presumably to pick up a prescription. I’m not dumb, you fill your script there and it gives you that extra opportunity to wander those glorious aisles. Shhh. Don’t tell my dh. Oh, I’m rambling? Thinking about Target distracts me. Where was I? So, we’re halfway through the store and I thought, hey let’s see if they have any sneakers on sale. You know he only likes the character shoes, and they have to light up and that = expensive!

Anyway, we got down to trying them on. His old pair were 11 and a half - nearing the top of the little kids range. So we try a 12, nope, too tight, 13? nope. People! I had to buy a 13 and a half!!! He jumped two full sizes since I last bought him sneakers. It’s a wonder he could walk at all.

Oh, and they’re Hot Wheels! (but no actual wheels) and yes, they light up. In case you were wondering.

the boy: lets one rip, loud, as 5 year old boys do

me: “You are such a fart boy!” (is she 12? you ask)

the boy: “NO. MORE. POTTY TALK!!!”

He turned the tables on me, yes he did. I seem to recall saying exactly that last week when I couldn’t stand the poop jokes anymore. <sigh>

So getting to the hospital and early labor are truly a blur now. All I know is that for hours I rocked, and walked, and talked, but never dilated past 3. I know dh watched a lot of CNN. Then I got some pitocin to move things along. Idiot me refused the epidural, “for now” I said. By the time I was begging for the epidural, the contractions were so close and strong the anesthesiologist could barely find a quiet moment to stick it in. It’s funny how clearly I remember that part.

After the epi, of course, I could no longer get out of bed. Numb legs and that pesky catheter kind of get in the way of walking. So I laid there and complained, and contracted, whined, and contracted. And dh held my hand and watched some more CNN. I didn’t even let him leave for food.

So, remember that whole need to get the kid out within 24 hours of your water breaking? Well, that’s due to the risk of infection. So a few hours sixteen hours after my wake up call, I was still only at 7cm, exhausted, baby’s heart rate was starting to get a little depressed, and I’m pretty sure I was screaming “just get it out of me.” We all decided the best course of action was a c-section.

Yep, another cesarean statistic. Well, I’m glad we made that decision, because as we discovered, he would never would have come out the other way with his head positioned wrong. The only bad part about the surgery was when the nurse didn’t bring dh into the operating room until after they had sliced me open. And he had to walk right by the carnage to get behind the curtain. Oops.

In any case, the boy, (a boy? wait! we were so sure it was a girl!) was born at 4:30pm March, 20, 2003. Happy birthday sweetie!

I have a memory lapse. It happened five years ago today. It was when we were still living in Virgina, without any other family around. Just dh and I. I know that I went to work all day. I’m guessing I went out to lunch, probably had kung pao as it was all I could keep down. I’m guessing certain I waddled about, when I moved much at all. I most definitely had cankles. You guessed where I’m going with this didn’t you? Because, really, what’s a mommy blog without a birth story??

It was a day like any other in my pregnancy, all blurred together with the constant nausea and the lack of sleep. Whoever tells you to get your sleep while you’re still pregnant has clearly never experienced it and should not be listened to. Between the charley horses, the achy hips, the kicking, the pressing on the bladder…. Anyway, I know I went to bed early that night, because we were already comfy and checking the news when we saw coverage of the first bombs striking. Not surprisingly, dh made plans to go back to the office to cover the war, a journalist is always working you know. Except, of course, when his wife goes into an untimely labor.

At some point I know I fell asleep because something woke me with a start around 10:00pm. Oops. I clearly remember that feeling and the primal instinct to run for the bathroom. No mistake about it. My water broke, ten days early.

My boss actually didn’t believe me when I called to tell her I wouldn’t be at work the next day. See, all my coworkers and I had long joked that I would have the baby on the day the war started. We all knew the bombs would fall at some point, and since I worked with a bunch of military history geeks experts, it was naturally, a pretty funny joke. Until it wasn’t a joke. It still kind of irritates me that I can’t remember my son’s birth without thinking about this effing war. But I digress.

Of course, dh did not go to work after all, and sometime soon after we headed for the hospital. See, I can’t really remember much of anything, but I’m sure that was before midnight. I was one tired mommy to be, after a full day’s work and no sleep. Not the best way to start labor. And did you know, once your water breaks, the kid has to come out within 24 hours? So there would be no rest for the weary.
to be continued tomorrow….

There are many reasons why I think my MIL is fantastic. This photo is a great example of one of them.

She’s always so excited when she gets the chance to whisk the boy away for the weekend, and she always makes grand plans for him. I rarely know what those plans are beforehand and that’s okay. It makes for some nice suspense for him, as he said earlier this week ”I wonder what Grammy’s planning for me, she makes the best plans!” Yep. Not only that but she does things with him either I wouldn’t think of or wouldn’t have the time or money to do.

So we usually get our updates on what they did over the weekend by the photos she sends. Apparently, they met Clifford the Big Red Dog yesterday. I think he’s pretty happy about that, don’t you?!

Why is it that on the days you have no morning obligations and you could potentially sleep in a little, your kid invariably is up early, bouncing on your bed, wanting breakfast, wanting his transformer transformed, whatever? Then on the days you all gotta be up and out of the house to go to, you know, school, those are the days he want to sleep until 8 o’clock! He’s only four, not fourteen!

Is it wrong to be counting the hours until my mother in law comes to get the boy for a whole weekend? Is it wrong to want to be alone in my own house? I hope not! Because at noon tomorrow I’m free for 48 hours!

The last time I slept in this house alone was exactly a year ago. My dear husband (dh from now on) is at the very same conference and the MIL took our dear son (aka ds) for two nights then as well.

I don’t recall doing anything particularly exciting. I only remember not having to cook or clean, being able to watch bad tv all day long, (and not even power rangers!) and getting as much sleep as I wanted without anyone waking me up! Woohoo! I’m gonna do that all over again baby! I might even be able to read. a. book. Shocking, I know.

Of course, I’ll miss my boys, and when they return on Sunday I’ll appreciate them so much more for having been gone, but until then I plan to wallow in my alone time. <sigh>

I made a new friend today. If you know me in real life it will probably surprise you to know that I don’t make new friends very easily. I make lots of friendly acquaintances but going deeper is so very hard. Anyway, one of the other preschool moms and I have been trying to get our kids together for a playdate for months now, and it just never worked out. Well, today she invited us for an inpromptu lunch. And we actually went.

Our lunchdate turned into a playdate and we ended up having a four hour conversation about serious and amazing things. However, our bond was not truly sealed until one of us (I can’t remember who) first admitted an addiction to a certain soap opera recorded daily on our tivos. I know this is quite a confession, but it is a terrible yet life long addiction. Both of us have watched since we were little girls sneaking a peek at it, me with my mother and she with her grandmother. Both of us could remember the characters, the supercouples, and the plotlines from the early 80’s. We even had the same crushes on those oh-so-cute dark haired actors. Silly? Yes. Embarassing? Also yes. But I don’t care - it was totally awesome to find a kindred Guiding Light fan - if not a little freaky.

Are you gonna spill your secret TV addiction? You know you have one and you might just make a new friend if you tell it