Showing posts with label Mama Chick. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Mama Chick. Show all posts
Griffin is 20 months old. He’s not talking that much – can say “mama” and “dada” and calls a train a “choo-choo” and makes lots of fun noises (zoooom! is his favorite while he’s playing cars).
Here is a conversation I had with him earlier:
(setting: we’re hanging out before bedtime and he has several animal toys he is playing with)
(Holds up a Monkey) Griffin: Eee eee eee!
Me: Yeah! A monkey!
I hold up a cow
Me: What’s this?
Griffin: Ooooooommmm!
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| Doctor Phoebe will see you now... |
So the last 2 weeks have been crazy busy and now, I think, we're paying for it.
Since I wrote the last post, we have:
- Joined a new church
- Attended a dinner for new members
- Attended a class about prayer
- Attended 2 small group meetings
- Had 2 play dates
- Attended 1 club board meeting
- Written, edited, and assembled 1 club newsletter
- Had at least 5 days of at least 1 sickie in the family
Yeah- busy. For us, crazy busy. Notice I didn't say a lot of school got done. Almost none has happened this week as whatever cold/funk/plague has affected the boy has now affected me and I have no voice.
Our curriculum relies on me and my ability to read to Phoebe heavily. No voice equals mama letting Phoebe make play dough letter shapes and do a few worksheets and whatever YouTube videos I can find that are relevant.
The boy has had a cold off and on since the beginning of October. It would clear up just shy of the date I would set to take him to the doctor. Also, he's got a 2 year molar coming thru so he's drooling a bit and starts coughing because of that.With Phoebe, the first molar took about 2 months to finally cut thru but then the others came in quickly. I hope he's the same way.
Sunday, he had a pretty good cough that really bothered him at night and he's been waking himself up coughing for the last couple of nights. Monday, I got up feeling like crap and by Halloween morning, I was praying for death.
Little girl has a slight cough and a bit of a runny nose but is otherwise ok - although she got up this morning looking a little glassy-eyed. John has this crap too but has been pushing his way thru it until he got up feeling really bad Halloween morning.
So we did not go trick or treating. Did not go to any parties. Have barely left the house except for groceries and work and we both got out to early vote.
I need this crap gone though. I need everyone to feel better. I have something I want to do this weekend and it doesn't involve laying on the couch, drinking ice tea, and having the boy run his cars over me while the girl watches Team Umizoomi.
There’s something about your 16 month old baby having a 104.7 fever that gets you moving.
Wednesday morning, I knew something wasn’t quite right with Griffin. He was alternately ok and whiny/clingy. Would go play for a few minutes and then whining and wanting to be in my lap. The closer we got to lunch time, he was less about playing and more about being on me. Bad mommy was trying to get the newsletter for my MOMS Club finished and I finished it with him on my shoulder snoozing.
I said bad mommy because I didn’t realize how hot he was getting. After I sent it out, I checked him out and yes, he was really hot. I checked his temp and found he had a 102 degree temp. In with the acetaminophen and he cooled down within a couple of hours. I put him down for a nap and he awakened screaming a couple hours later with a temp of 104.7. More acetaminophen and a call to the doctor’s office who, of course, had just closed for the day.
So as soon as John got home, he and I took off for one of the local children’s hospital immediate care centers. Which is 30 miles away. But it’s the closest. Sort of. Actually there were two equally that close but that one seemed like the one that might have less traffic at 6 pm.
And I was right.
We got him there, the doc looked into his ears, said he had an icky ear and prescribed antibiotics and alternating acetaminophen and ibuprofen and sent us on our way in under an hour. It took almost longer to get there and back than it took us to see a doc.
By the next day, he was back and forth between feeling ok and not but never spiked a fever above 100. I felt like he was stable enough I could go to a meeting (I’ve been elected into my local MOMS Club as treasurer) and while he was up a bit overnight, he was much better Friday.
But not the girl.
She woke up, apparently ok. She played in her room when she first woke up. Then came requesting cereal. I got up not feeling so good myself but dragged myself out of the bed and got her some cereal and me some coffee.
As the morning wore on, the girl was spending more time cuddled up in a chair or on the couch than playing. I finally felt her forehead and she was burning up with a 102 degree fever. Alright, battle plans in place. Plenty of fluids, first acetaminophen and then ibuprofen. I even made a handy dandy little on-the-fridge form that would help remember who had taken-what-when and laminated it.
And then my daughter puked.
What do you do? Give more acetaminophen? Withhold everything? She seemed to feel better after throwing up so I consulted Dr Google which said to wait on another dose until time to give the next dosage. I opted to give her the Motrin instead and she ate a little lunch and drank some water and genuinely seemed to feel a little better.
Then she took a nap on the floor covered in a blanket and woke up with a 106 degree fever. John was home by now and we moved into action, bathing her with a damp washcloth in spite of her protests. I didn’t think she really had a 106 fever but that it was skewed because she was sleeping under a quilt (made by my talented sister-in-law) and the fact that it’s 100 degrees outside and the air conditioning is just barely keeping up and in fact, the power went out for about 10 minutes and things got a little stuffy.
We got her cooled down to 102.7 within half an hour which confirmed my suspicions that it was partly overheating. I was ready to throw her in the car and head for the emergency room but Daddy being more lucid, suggested a warm bath, so I threw her in the tub instead.
Which worked.
She felt much better and ate some dinner and went to bed late.
She just woke up a little while ago at 4AM and felt a little hot – I gave her Motrin and then sat down with her.
She: Mama, I’m sick.
Me: I know. I just gave you some medicine so you’ll feel better.
She: Mama, I need to go to the doctor.
Me: We might go if you keep feeling bad. But right now, we’re gonna keep on giving you medicine. ok?
She: Mama, I need to go to the doctor ‘tomahwo’.
She looked pleadingly at me.
Me: Ok. We’ll take you tomorrow.
Then she got up, went upstairs and put herself back to bed. I kissed her and told her to call me if she needed me.
She grabbed my hand. “Tomahwo momma. I need to go tomahwo.”
Do I take her? I don’t know. It depends on how she’s doing. If Griffin is any indication, she’ll feel a little better Saturday morning and will be at 75-85% by Sunday.
We started potty training in July. Last year. "Started" being the operative word.
In my usual OCD manner, I read every book I could get my hands on, viewed every video at the library and Netflix. Talked incessantly to Phoebe about it and how exciting it would be. I bought cute little princess underpants. I bought 3 different potty chairs. We read books together about pottys. And I talked to just about everyone I knew.
And then we sucked.
We sucked because deep down I wasn't sure she was ready. I worried that her speech wasn't good enough to tell me what she needed. I worried we didn't have the right potty. I obsessed over every little detail. I followed EVERYONE's advice but I did it all at the same time so I think I just confused her. I would say one thing and do another.
Case in point: pull-up diapers. They are EVIL. Do not use them. Well except if you're going on a long trip or at night time or during nap time. See what I mean?
So during the day, at home, I'd have Phoebe in a dress sans pantaloons or "without underpants" for y'all that don't speak messed up French. Then, we'd put on a pull-up if we were going somewhere or it was nap time or bedtime. Phoebe would stay dry and clean as long as she was pants-less but would save poops for the pull-ups or underpants. She got to the point that she didn't like getting cleaned up and would stay just out of poop smelling range to avoid it. Which meant that by the time I smelled it (10 minutes or so) she would be a little irritated and we'd have to stop everything to get her cleaned up and cream applied. I was at my wit's end. Bribes in the form of suckers were no good. It really seemed like she could careless about being potty trained.
A friend of mine suggested a particular book and told me that purchase of the book also granted you access to the author in a forum so you could ask questions. I purchased the book, looked at the forum and found it all completely useful information. And then I promptly went back to what I was doing.
Until about six weeks ago when she went in a pooping spree. At bed time, she'd poop a little, request cleanup and then go back to bed. Then a little more poop and more cleanup. This would happen 3-4 times every evening. I'd ask her if she was done pooping and make her sit on the potty but no dice. She'd poop a little more and be back for cleanup.
After about 6 nights of this, her butt was getting raw and cleanup time was no fun for anyone.
I went on the Internet looking for answers and was reminded of the book I bought and the forum. We were 9 months into this and I had no idea what to do next and I didn't feel we were any closer to being trained than when we started.
The woman who wrote the eBook answers questions directly in her forum. I posted where we were in the process and what we were doing and she came back with the fact that the pull-ups HAD TO GO. NOW. DO NOT PASS GO. DO NOT COLLECT $200.
So we went cold turkey with the pullups and it has been amazing. Phoebe went from refusing to poop on the potty to doing it willingly. We've only had a few accidents and those only in the first couple of days. We even went to the zoo last weekend and she was perfect.
Night time training is sucking but not for the reason you think. She's only had a few accidents at night mainly because I check on her about 2 hours after she goes to bed and then I get up about 3 hours later and take her to the potty again. Then, sometime between 3 or so and 8:30 am, she'll get up and go potty without help. I'm working on stretching the time of the second check so that I can train her out of that one.
So between getting up with her at 3AM and with Griffin, who is experiencing his first ear infection and a growth spurt at the same time, I'm not sleeping a lot. But the fact remains that my kid is nearly potty trained. I can't say she's perfect - we're not done. But day time is no problem anymore.
In my usual OCD manner, I read every book I could get my hands on, viewed every video at the library and Netflix. Talked incessantly to Phoebe about it and how exciting it would be. I bought cute little princess underpants. I bought 3 different potty chairs. We read books together about pottys. And I talked to just about everyone I knew.
And then we sucked.
We sucked because deep down I wasn't sure she was ready. I worried that her speech wasn't good enough to tell me what she needed. I worried we didn't have the right potty. I obsessed over every little detail. I followed EVERYONE's advice but I did it all at the same time so I think I just confused her. I would say one thing and do another.
Case in point: pull-up diapers. They are EVIL. Do not use them. Well except if you're going on a long trip or at night time or during nap time. See what I mean?
So during the day, at home, I'd have Phoebe in a dress sans pantaloons or "without underpants" for y'all that don't speak messed up French. Then, we'd put on a pull-up if we were going somewhere or it was nap time or bedtime. Phoebe would stay dry and clean as long as she was pants-less but would save poops for the pull-ups or underpants. She got to the point that she didn't like getting cleaned up and would stay just out of poop smelling range to avoid it. Which meant that by the time I smelled it (10 minutes or so) she would be a little irritated and we'd have to stop everything to get her cleaned up and cream applied. I was at my wit's end. Bribes in the form of suckers were no good. It really seemed like she could careless about being potty trained.
A friend of mine suggested a particular book and told me that purchase of the book also granted you access to the author in a forum so you could ask questions. I purchased the book, looked at the forum and found it all completely useful information. And then I promptly went back to what I was doing.
Until about six weeks ago when she went in a pooping spree. At bed time, she'd poop a little, request cleanup and then go back to bed. Then a little more poop and more cleanup. This would happen 3-4 times every evening. I'd ask her if she was done pooping and make her sit on the potty but no dice. She'd poop a little more and be back for cleanup.
After about 6 nights of this, her butt was getting raw and cleanup time was no fun for anyone.
I went on the Internet looking for answers and was reminded of the book I bought and the forum. We were 9 months into this and I had no idea what to do next and I didn't feel we were any closer to being trained than when we started.
The woman who wrote the eBook answers questions directly in her forum. I posted where we were in the process and what we were doing and she came back with the fact that the pull-ups HAD TO GO. NOW. DO NOT PASS GO. DO NOT COLLECT $200.
So we went cold turkey with the pullups and it has been amazing. Phoebe went from refusing to poop on the potty to doing it willingly. We've only had a few accidents and those only in the first couple of days. We even went to the zoo last weekend and she was perfect.
Night time training is sucking but not for the reason you think. She's only had a few accidents at night mainly because I check on her about 2 hours after she goes to bed and then I get up about 3 hours later and take her to the potty again. Then, sometime between 3 or so and 8:30 am, she'll get up and go potty without help. I'm working on stretching the time of the second check so that I can train her out of that one.
So between getting up with her at 3AM and with Griffin, who is experiencing his first ear infection and a growth spurt at the same time, I'm not sleeping a lot. But the fact remains that my kid is nearly potty trained. I can't say she's perfect - we're not done. But day time is no problem anymore.
Before we begin this discussion, let me first say that I am not a lawyer. I have never played one on tv. I do not want to be a lawyer. You should consult with your own attorney before taking my advice about ANYTHING.
It is currently legal to home school in all 50 of the states, but each state has their own particular rules that must be followed. To find out the laws for your state check out the Home School Legal Defense Association, who has detailed information about each state’s requirements. We plan to join the HSLDA when Phoebe starts first grade just as a little backup.
For Georgia laws, you can check out their requirements here. My interpretation of the laws – AGAIN, I AM NOT AN ATTORNEY, THESE ARE MY INTERPRETATIONS OF THE LAWS – are that Georgia doesn’t require anything too terribly difficult.
The rules as they are on the website:
- Parent or guardian must annually submit to the superintendent of the local school district a Declaration of Intent to Utilize a Home Study Program by September 1 or within 30 days after a program is established. The local school superintendent will provide a form upon request for this purpose to be returned to that office.
- The declaration must include the names and ages of the students, the address where the program is located, and the dates of the school year.
- Parents or guardians may teach only their own children in the home study program provided the teaching parent or guardian possesses at least a high school diploma or a general educational development (GED) equivalency diploma, but the parents or guardians may employ a tutor who holds at least a high school diploma or a general education diploma to teach such children.
- The home study program must include, but is not limited to, instruction in reading, language arts, mathematics, social studies, and science.
- The school year must include the equivalent of 180 days of at least 4-1/2 hours of instruction per day unless the child is physically unable to comply with this requirement.
- Monthly attendance reports must be sent to the local superintendent at the end of each month. The local school superintendent will, upon request, provide the reporting forms.
- Students in home study programs shall be subject to an appropriate nationally standardized testing program administered in consultation with a person trained in the administration and interpretation of norm referenced tests. The student must be evaluated at least every three years beginning at the end of the third grade. Records of such tests shall be retained.
- The instructor shall write an annual progress assessment report in each required subject area for each student. These reports shall be retained for at least three years.
My interpretation in a nutshell:
- Anyone who is teaching my kid must have a high school diploma.
- I have to keep records of what my kid is studying and her progress.
- She needs to learn the basics: readin’, writin’ and ‘rithmatics and some science and social studies and we need to spend at least 180 days every year studying these things.
- I have tell my local school district that I am homeschooling by September 1st every year. I also control when our calendar begins and ends. Additionally, I have to send a monthly attendance report to my local school district. The forms will be provided to me upon request although the GHEA has an Excel version HERE.
- Starting with 3rd grade, we need to do some sort of standardized test but we don’t have to give the results to anyone. We will have to do these tests again in the 6th, 9th, and 12th grades.
See? Not too bad…
Now an extra added bonus to this is that Georgia has compulsory schooling for kids from 6 to 16 with keeping in mind being that a kid has to be 6 on or before September 1st to start first grade. So in this case, even though we will be home schooling this Fall, I do not have to start following these rules until 2014.
Are you considering home schooling your child? How do you feel about what it means to do it legally?
UPDATED: May 9, 2012: The law has just recently changed. Please see Homeschooling Laws in Georgia: REDUX.
1280 Peachtree Street NE
Atlanta, GA 30309
404-733-4444
The High Museum is one of the largest art museums in the southeast. It has more than 12,000 works of art in its permanent collection including an extensive collection of 19th and 20th American art.
They have a great children's program and have special programs on Thursdays just for the preschool set. Older children will love getting the Discovery Backpack, which will lead them on a 30-45 minute journey through the gallery.
For more information: www.high.org
Griffin and I are in a special time right now.
At his last well-child appointment, the pediatrician said that I needed to start cutting back on his bottles and get more solid food into him.
YAY! Formula costs roughly the same as a side of beef and cutting down helps our budget. However, this causes another issue. He is STARVING.
WHAT DO I FEED THE BOY!?!?!
He’s a baby, feed him baby food, you say. With some kids, this might work. With my kid, no, not so much.
Oh, he liked the baby food until I started giving him table food. Loved baby green beans and then I fed him real green beans and he would have nothing to do with the baby green beans. I mean, what would you rather have: tasty green beans or snot-like green bean goo?
So meal time is fun. What he liked yesterday, gets thrown across the room today. He likes green beans, carrots, potatoes, peas, most any vegetable. He likes meats. He loves fruit.
Pasta is hit or miss. Spaghetti is meant to be thrown apparently. Mac and cheese is sometimes good and sometimes throwable. The noodles from double noodle soup is also hit or miss – meaning sometimes he hits you and sometimes he misses.
I have to steer clear of anything too acidic like tomatoes and citrus fruit – his system is still too sensitive. I also steer clear of the major allergy prone foods like garlic, onion, strawberries, chocolate and nuts – at least until his second birthday.
So here’s my query: what do I feed my boy? He’s 10 months old and I feel bad about just feeding him chicken nuggets, green beans, cubed cheese and diced apples.
A few days ago, I decided that I was starting to react to the autumnal pollen. So I did what every reasonable person who is allergic to damn near everything did: I decided that was a good time to sweep the back porch covered in said polleny wonder.
Now I do have to admit that I was having some of MOMS Club friends over for a scrapbook session and the kids would be playing during this. I knew that letting the kids run on the porch would be something they could do to run off some energy. We were having nice weather and the kids loved the porch.
Next morning, which happened to be Wednesday, my voice sounded like I’d smoked about 4 packs of cigarettes before 10 am but I still felt ok. Just a little tired.
By the next day, Thursday, however, I decided that I had seriously screwed up. My nose was completely blocked and my throat was irritated and again with the raspy voice…
I needed to feel better fast. Friday was going ot be action packed. I had a purse party in the morning and John’s work was hosting their annual Halloween party for the kids.
Every year, this place has a seriously awesome party for the employee’s kids and this year, the employees were decorating all of the meeting rooms. After hearing about the plans that John’s group had, I really wanted to see it.
I ended up missing the morning party much to my chagrin but at least my finances were happy. I would have spent too much money as I LOVE purses. But I needed to make an appearance at John’s party with the kids in costume.
I had never dressed up before but always got Phoebe dressed up but then John didn’t usually dress up either. This year, he was dressing up and I didn’t want to be left out.
Things I learned:
- It is a challenge to get two kids dressed in costume – especially if you are alone when attempting this.
- It is an even bigger challenge if you plan to costume yourself as well as two young children.
- Fake blood takes a bloody long time to dry and will get all over EVERYTHING
- My kids are more freaked out about the wig cap that goes on under the wig than the wig itself.
- It is difficult to get a 3 year old in a ball gown clipped into a car seat. The skirt is very fluffy and really gets in the way.
- People pay no attention to people driving down the road. They also pay no attention to a lady driving an SUV, covered in blood and seemingly being attacked by birds while driving down the street.
- The few people who do pay attention will take a picture of you on their phone – while they drive down the road.
So we had a great time at the party and then we stopped at Varsity which has the best burger anywhere and the most fabulous chocolate milk in the world.
When we got home, I immediately went to bed but didn’t stay there. I had developed a horrible cough and the only way I could sleep was sitting up. Thank goodness for our recliner. I slept there for a couple of nights before finally breaking down and going to the doc.
Sinus infection, ear infection and bronchitis. YAY! I am an overachiever.
I’m beginning to feel better but the kids have gotten a little bit of it too. They have a little bit of a cough and are a little stuffy but it seems to be getting better.
That’s how we’re doing, how about you?
- Purchase caramel apple kit.
- Line cookie sheet with wax paper. Ready plastic wrap to wrap your delicious creations.
- Follow directions on package to melt caramel.
- Push sticks into apples. Nearly lose eye when one stick breaks and splinters fly through air.
- Pick up apple on a stick. Apple slips off stick. Put apple back on stick. Repeat. Swear with great creativity. Figure out how to angle apple so it won’t fall off stick.
- Dip into sauce that is now hotter than molten lava.
Swear obscenely when stick comes out of apple leaving apple bobbing in viscous goo. Go find the mother effin’ tongs. - Realize you’ve destroyed tongs because you found preschooler using them to mess with "things" in toilet. Find the salad spoons instead.
- Use salad spoons to dig apples out of caramel sauce that is now hotter than the sun. Sauce drips off of salad spoons and onto your pants leaving a blister the size of your hand. Swear loudly enough that the neighbors think there’s some sort of domestic situation at your house and call police.
- Repeat process with remaining apples and/or say to “hell with it” and go buy caramel apples at grocery store.
- Enjoy!
10 days ago, I found myself in the worst place a parent can imagine: the emergency room with an injured child.
It started earlier that evening. I was cooking dinner, John was holding the baby and Phoebe was The Pink Tornado. This is a term coined by one of John’s friends regarding her own preschool age child but it fits Phoebe so well that I’ve stolen it.
Like most three year olds, Phoebe is in perpetual motion. She’s running here, scampering there, dancing around and jumping up and down. She’s also moody and can be crying one moment and laughing the next. She trips over her own feet and more often than not says “I’m ok!” before I can even ask.
She also has the annoying interesting habit of running off to hide when she’s upset or hurt. Which is what she did after she flipped over a wheeled office chair I keep in the kitchen. She hit the floor quite hard but I was mostly concerned with her noggin. Not feeling any kind of knot on her head, I decided to let her finish processing the incident and let her hide behind a chair in the living room.
After about 10 minutes, she’s still crying and it’s not quite like anything I’ve heard from her before. There was an urgency to it. John finally got her out from behind the chair and I gave her what I thought was a pretty thorough inspection. I checked her arms, her head, her back.. I saw no redness, no swelling, no bruising.
She stopped crying but there was definitely something wrong. I thought maybe she’d bruised something that just hadn’t shown up yet. I gave her some Tylenol and then she wanted up in my lap. That’s when I figured out something was wrong with her arm. I had looked at her arm; had bent the elbow, but didn’t see anything wrong and she didn’t react to me bending the elbow. As I picked her up, I put my hands under her arms to lift her up and that’s when she screamed and I now understood what the crying meant. She was in real pain and there was something going on beyond preschooler drama. There was definitely something wrong but I wasn’t sure whether it was her arm, her shoulder or maybe even a broken rib.
I made the decision right there to take her to the emergency room. Atlanta is blessed to have a great children’s hospital system that consists of three hospitals, numerous urgent care center, etc. I took Phoebe to Children’s Healthcare of Atlanta at Hughes Spalding.
This hospital is near Grady Hospital in downtown Atlanta. The location isn’t too great, but the parking lot is secure and brightly lit at 10:30 at night. They validated my parking and we were in and out in just under two hours.
The nurse we worked with immediately saw the swelling on her chest. I hadn’t seen it, wasn’t looking for it. But it was there and turning red. An x-ray showed that Phoebe had a broken collar bone.
Next day, an orthopedic explained to me that the collar bone, or clavicle, is the most broken bone in the human body and is very thin in children. But she also told me that children are amazing healers. Within a month, the bone will reconnect and within about 8-10 weeks, the healing will be mostly complete. Additionally, in children this young, within about a year, the bone will actually remodel itself to return to it’s normal shape and it will be almost impossible to tell that it was ever broken.
So my daughter is part Time Lord.
Meanwhile, I’ve got to keep her from reinjuring it. Remember she is the Pink Tornado. So no jumping, no playgrounds, no climbing, no nothing that will keep it from mending properly. Her grandparents overnighted a cool wooden “paper” doll set that she loves and is helping to keep her entertained.
The hospital put her in a weird brace that held her shoulders
back. The orthopedic first put her in a standard arm sling with a waist strap to keep the arm immobile. After our second visit, another practitioner suggested a shoulder immobilizing brace that is actually working a lot better.
I have decided I have to change my attitude.
I’ve been tired and worn out and, well, just pissy for so many days now that I have got to do something else.
So I have decided to focus on the positive.
For example, instead of fussing that I only got 4 hours of sleep last night, I will get excited that I got those 4 hours IN A ROW and IN MY OWN BED!! Because more often than not, I sleep in the recliner downstairs and Nugget sleeps either in the pack and play or the swing. This happens not by design but because I don’t know how long I have before the next scream-a-thon at night.
I have tried, as much as possible, to let Phoebe and Moo get as much sleep as possible. Moo needs the sleep because he is going out of the house and working every day. Phoebe needs the sleep because OH-MA-GAWD preschoolers MUST sleep or they get cranky and cranky mommy can only deal with so much crankiness every day.
So I try to keep Nugget’s crying upstairs to a minimum.
This is not easy or, to tell the truth, possible. He seems to have his cranky period from 6:30 until midnight or 3AM, which ever seems to drive me crazy first.
Actually, it is getting better, because as I stated above, he settled down at midnight last night and slept until 4. I felt that he was pretty sleepy and put him down upstairs instead of in the pack and play or swing. This means that I got to sleep in my bed. I didn’t take off my clothes but I did sleep in my bed.
So see? I put a positive spin on it. No whining. Let’s see if I can keep it up.
C-sections are not exactly something that you think, “Gee, I hope my pregnancy ends in a c-section.” You certainly don’t wake up in the morning WANTING a c-section.
But they aren’t bad things.
I didn’t know that I’d have a c-section with my first pregnancy – it just turned out that way because of a variety of reasons including: 1) baby was ginormous 2) I wasn’t dilated AT ALL 3) I was in severe pain from sciatica – so I had a c-section with Phoebe and it all worked out ok.
This time, I knew from the beginning that I’d have one because my practice doesn’t do VBACs (Vaginal births after c-sections) and I was ok with that. I could have found another practice that would give me a chance to do one (a VBAC) but I felt comfortable with the idea and decided to stick with them.
For the most part, I am pleased with that decision. However, that doesn’t mean that the c-section itself was in anyway pleasant.
Thursday morning, we left the house at 8:30 and headed to the hospital. Because of the gestational diabetes, they wanted me there a full hour before other folks usually have to be there so we wandered in about 9AM, got checked in, changed into our surgical gear and plugged into an IV.
Then, we waited. And waited. And waited.
The primary OB showed up about 11 and said we’d go at noon as planned. We were just waiting for the second OB. Turns out when you have a repeat c-section, they need two OBs to do the surgery. I’ve yet to really find out why, but Moo has an idea it has to do with the procedure that I’ll tell you about in a minute…
So they walk me into the surgical theater at HIGH NOON and I sit on the table, get into position for my spinal block and then wait. After about 10 minutes, the anesthesiologist is FINALLY ready to put in my block and then things started moving.
Again, how can I explain how a block feels? I can only describe it as the feeling of when your hand or foot goes to sleep. You are aware of pressure but there’s no pain and you can’t really tell whether someone’s poking you with a scalpel or tickling you.
I describe the c-section in two parts: before they get the baby out and after they get the baby out. Last time, the first part was almost pleasant. This time? Not so much. I immediately got nauseous from whatever they gave me and I felt like I was suffocating for most of the surgery. I still smelled the odor of cooking bacon – which just happened to be my flesh burning.
I still felt intense pressure when they were getting him out. But things seem to be MORE this time, more intense, more pressure. Moo says that when they were getting the baby out, that both doctors were standing on little footstools pressing on my stomach with both hands. This probably explains why I felt like I’d been in a car wreck the next day.
But there’s also the sweetness of the day. The feeling of Moo’s hand in mine as they brought my child into this world. The sound of his cries as he emerged. The excited exclamations of the team at how beautiful this boy was. The tears coursing down my face when they told me he was a boy. The softness of his skin when they let me kiss his sweet little cheek before whisking him off to recovery.
So while I didn’t enjoy the process, I certainly appreciate the outcome.
With just a couple of days before this kid makes his debut, I’m trying to be appreciative of things.
This was a completely unplanned pregnancy – Moo says it wasn’t since we weren’t doing anything to prevent it – but as you know, I didn’t think I could get pregnant again without drugs and crazy calendars and doctors involved. But this is definitely the last pregnancy for me.
I will be getting my tubes tied during Thursday’s surgery. Mainly because of one of my mother’s friends. She didn’t think she could get pregnant – she was 50. In fact, when she missed a couple of periods she just thought she was entering menopause.
What took her to the doctor was the overwhelming tiredness she felt. At that time, hormone replacement therapy was in full swing and all the menopausal women in my acquaintance were taking hormones to help deal with the symptoms.
She went to her doctor in hopes of getting something to help with the fatigue and they ran a pregnancy test “just in case” and found out she was pregnant. That child, a daughter, was a blessing to them, but I do not want to be walking around, 50 years old, being surprised by a pregnancy.
So this is my last pregnancy and I am trying to enjoy these last few days. There’s much to be done: cleaning, preparing the nursery, getting ready for a visit from Grandma, last minute packing and a million little tasks that “just have to be done”. But there’s also the moments of laying in bed with Moo as he rubs my belly and we talk. There’s the moments of having Phoebe pat my belly and ask about the baby. There’s feeling this baby move around and remind me of his presence almost constantly.
There’s the tiredness I feel after walking through Target. The heaviness of my belly, my hand supporting my back, the glances I get from people.
I’m still fighting a cold and my throat hurts and I can’t take a damn thing for it except plain Sudafed and Tylenol, but I’m appreciative of that. Not being able to take something and just crash because of this life I’m cultivating.
The Braxton-Hicks contractions remind me that my body is preparing for his arrival. I’ve been dilated at about 3 cm for about 2 weeks now. My body knows he’s almost ready and I am appreciative of that.
I am appreciative of the friends and family who have rallied around me. One friend has kept Phoebe for me on Thursdays while I was at the perinatologist’s office. My aunt and her sister have kept Phoebe while I went to the doctor on some of the Mondays and another friend has kept her on another Monday. My husband has used his days off to watch her other days. Another friend sent me 4 giant boxes of little boy clothing. Another friend gave us her gently used but still serviceable infant car seat while another has given us a high chair that’s barely been used. My mom’s club has already arranged the delivery of several meals after the birth of this kid.
How thankful I am for all of them!
How thankful I am for experiencing all this!
So I’ve not felt real good since Saturday. Oh I wasn’t sick or anything over the weekend. That was later.
I’ve had what I call “Kitty Litter Nose” since the snow back in January. You know, you feel like your nose is full of tiny rocks or glass or something? And you blow it and it looks like a bloody mosaic? (Sorry I can get a bit gross sometimes)
I get this off and on and it’s mostly that my nose gets so DRY and if I’d just use the saline spray it would be better? I even asked my ENT Chester about it and he told me to use the saline spray too.
Oh well.
Over the weekend, the kitty litter nose just felt a little dryer, a little more stuffy but nothing too terrible and I felt ok.
Monday, I went for an OB appointment and I felt ok then, but by the time I got back home, I felt vaguely like dog crap. Nugget is right under my boobs and I feel a little breathless most of the time anyway but I felt a little more breathless Monday afternoon.
I chalked everything up to just being hugely and gigantically pregnant and went on with my business.
Tuesday, I didn’t feel very well but I had a plumber coming out to replace ALL OF OUR TOILETS so I had to keep it together…
Now I am pretty damn handy with a toilet, if I say so myself. I am an expert plunger and will confidently open up that tank and replace all of it’s innards if it gives me any trouble.
Our potties are all original to our 20+ year old house and I’ve completely rebuilt one, partially rebuilt another and the third one did that “tinkle tinkle” sound all the time which means it needs to be tightened but I’d tightened it so much that I was afraid if I tightened it anymore, I’d crack the porcelain.
Additionally, our water bill was getting ridiculous.
So the plumber finally gets to the house about noon just as I’m sitting Phoebe down to lunch. I get him started and finish lunch with the kiddo.
As the plumber works, I feel worse and worse. Not about his work, that was great. He was quiet, not too chatty, which I appreciated since my throat was beginning to really hurt. I kept the kiddo out of his way and busy until he was done with the upstairs bathrooms and then I put her down for a nap.
He finished up with the guest bath downstairs right at 4PM and I was about dead. I mean, I was REALLY sick. I managed to keep it together long enough to get him paid and out of my house but then I crashed on the couch until 5:30 when Phoebe woke up from her nap.
After cooking a more complex dinner than I should have (Coca Cola chicken, mac and cheese and green beans) and watching a few minutes of TV, we put Phoebe to bed and I got in the tub.
I rarely go to bed before 11 or so, but Tuesday, I was so sick I just wanted to go myself. But my head was so stuffy that I decided that a warm bath might help. I also used the Neti pot about 4 times that day and I did it once before I went to bed.
IF you’ve never used a Neti pot before, you are missing an interesting experience. It’s not unpleasant but I wouldn’t say it’s the best thing in the world I’ve done either. However, the results are worth a few minutes of discomfort.
As a kid, I never liked diving because the water went straight up my nose and gagged me. Using the neti pot is basically forcing that water up my nose on purpose. Not exactly something I’m going to enjoy under any circumstance.
I use the Neilmed neti pot not because I like the pot itself but because the saline mixture that comes with it is AWESOME!
It doesn’t burn my nose like other mixes. I’ve tried a couple of different ones and they all say that you may need to work up to full strength mix but the one doesn’t burn at all and it’s easy to mix.
So Tuesday night I feel like absolutely dog crap. Wednesday morning, I actually felt a lot better.
By today, Thursday, I feel human again and gladly went to my LAST PERINATOLOGIST appointment. I got to see THE PERINATOLOGIST again and he said that I had done wonderfully and I should be proud of myself for the control I had. I haven’t felt like I’ve had the GD under control very well but he says I have and since he’s been birthing babies since I was BORN, I’m gonna trust him.
The last ultrasound was a full scan so we got to look at all the organs again and did measurements of the little guy. Right now, he’s an estimated 8 pounds 15 ounces – which is what Phoebe weighed when she was born at 38 weeks, 2 days.
With another week, he should gain somewhere around another 1/2 pound or so which will bring him in around 9-1/2 pounds.
So that’s where we are. Waiting.
If baby boy decides to come now, they will pause labor long enough to do a c-section. Otherwise, we wait.
So here we are. Less than two weeks before my scheduled C-section.
YES! LESS THAN TWO WEEKS!!
I’m pooping my pants. Hang on while I change them.
Ok.. that’s better.
So Tuesday morning, I wake up and my left wrist is killing me. I mean really really hurting. When I was pregnant with Phoebe, I had the same thing for the last month or so before she was born, except it was the right wrist.
My hands and feet have been swelling a good bit and like a lot of preggos, the swelling is affecting the carpal tunnel in my left wrist.
So I wrapped it up and went on with my business. The wrap reminded me to take it easy with that wrist and I did pretty well.
Well, Wednesday night/Thursday morning, I had a really bad night. BOTH wrists hurt all night. My fingers were swollen and hurting. I even took off my wedding band because my hands were so swollen.
By the time it was time to get up Thursday morning, I was in tears because I couldn’t figure out how to get dressed, much less drive myself to the doctor.
Moo was really concerned about me because I don’t usually do that. I’m one of those stoic types when it comes to pain. I will lie and say that I’m ok and just stay quiet while I’m in pain. When I finally start talking about the pain, I’m generally beyond that. If I start crying, well, then, I’m in a LOT of pain.
He was so concerned that he took me to my doctor’s appointment just to be certain that they weren’t going to keep me. He also put the suitcase in the car – yeah, he was THAT concerned.
So blood pressure was good. I gained another two pounds. Baby looked good. And the swelling? Well that’s just part of being 9 months pregnant. Once I knew I was ok and the baby was ok, I calmed down and I could better deal with the pain in my wrists, which in turn, made Moo feel better about me.
I am pretty much an emotional mess right now. I’m crying during commercials again which is pretty irritating.
Also: effin’ Braxton Hicks contractions. Anyone who calls them painless can kiss my ass. They are highly uncomfortable and, of course, are annoying because if you stop doing the thing that is bringing them on, say, sitting in your favorite chair playing a computer game, then the bastards stop.
Nugget’s room is 95% complete. We still need to move some furniture around and we plan to do that sometime this weekend. I have laundered all the gender neutral stuff I had for Phoebe and the stuff I got at a yard sale but still need to launder the new clothes I bought last weekend to fill in the gaps.
So all you mamas out there.. what irritated you the most in the last trimester?
I haven’t talked about Phoebe’s speech development in a while.
Truth is, there isn’t much to say. Not that there’s no improvement. There is. She’s talking up a storm. Perhaps not on level with her age, but her vocabulary has greatly expanded and nearly every day I hear her say something new.
Here’s a conversation we had this morning:
Phoebe: Mama, juice. (what she calls fruit cups)
Me: No, we’re going to have breakfast.
Phoebe: Mama, juice.
Me: No, let’s have cereal.
Phoebe: Cereal? (Thinks about this for a moment). Juice?
Me: No, we’re going to have cereal.
I open the refrigerator to get the milk and, of course, she sees the mandarin orange cups she’s jones’n for.
Phoebe: (pointing wildly) MAMA JUICE!! MAMA JUICE!! MAMA JUICE!!
I put her in the booster chair and pour the milk.
Me: Let’s eat cereal.
Phoebe now begins to cry with real tears and everything.
Phoebe: (tearfully) Maaaamaaa… juice….
Whereupon, I open and drain a cup of mandarin oranges and give them to her.
Phoebe: (daintily placing one orange slice in her mouth) Mmmm… good juice.
Yeah…
My mother in law is coming to spend some time with us when Nugget makes his appearance so I wrote down a few of Phoebe’s words.
She knows a lot of words and you can understand most of them. But sometimes the meanings are not the same as what you and I might think.
Words with multiple meanings
"Sauce" - some type of sauce, usually ketchup, but can also be salsa or grape jelly.
"Car" - can be a car, but can also mean the stroller
"Omnia" - usually means "banana" but can also refer to her Dumbo stuffed animal or elephants
"Cracker" - can be a cookie or cracker or chips - anything crunchy like that
"Cookie" - interchangeable with cracker... could be cookie, could be cracker, could be chips...
"Cow" - can be a cow but also a horse.
"Carow" - candy, carrots or my aunt Carole
"Juice" - can be juice but also any fruit in the refrigerator
Words and Phrases that have meaning to her but maybe not to you
"boo-boo" - boobs. This is usually accompanied by her pointing to or patting your boobs.
"Ouchie" - a physical ailment like a scraped knee.
"Ahm" - Apple
"Tig" - Tigger stuffed animal
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