Suiting Up!

This second pregnancy has steamrollered me more than I like to admit. Anyone have any advice for conquering the joint/hip middle-of-the-night pain? The lack of sleep is getting tedious. (I know, I'm only in for loads more of it once the little guy arrives! But I'd at least like to be caught up a bit before that happens!) And every time I sit down to write, the current complaints come out - and I realize how very much I don't want to write about them... onward!

We joined TBall this season, and boy is it a hoot! At this age they don't keep score, and just have the kids bat through the lineup. Good thing it's only three innings or us parents would be there awhile. But to see the little ones figuring out batting, when to run (or not!) catching the ball, trying different positions has been great fun. One inning, I heard the coaches hollering Daniel's name and I turned around to find him looking like this attached photo!

Now if I could only find some Mommy protective gear to get me through the next few preggo months...

With a Capital S

We talk in various ways with Daniel about the baby brother soon to be joining our family. In yet another view on a preschooler's concept of "time" - every time I head to the doctor's office for an appointment, he asks if I'm coming home with the baby. I smile, and explain that it will be summer, and warm, and practically his birthday before he gets here. (If only it were so easy!) He will also randomly tell me about how he will help with the baby when he gets here. This includes things like changing his diaper, and pouring milk into his cup. Hmmm. Breastfeeding may take a little explaining... And when we were coasting through the kid's department of a store yesterday he picked an outfit off the rack and asked if it would be good for the baby. The clothes were a near-fit for Daniel, so I explained that his little brother would need to grow into something like that. It's all been very sweet.

Moments above alternate with the days that I have to hold onto my patience with both hands as my independent-minded four year old and I butt heads over every. Little. Thing. Clothes to wear for the day are not right, by virtue of the fact that Mommy picked them out. We can't leave the house while he struggles with his coat zipper. He appears to be living on tortillas and string cheese lately. And once, this past winter, he was determined to help me move a pile of snow out of our driveway. To the point that he moved my pile of snow back into the driveway so that he could move it out himself.

And we've been in a potty-training conundrum for quite some time. Daniel has peed on the potty like a champ for awhile now. Wears underwear to preschool, doesn't have accidents... but when it came to the inevitable poop on the potty, he requested a pullup and to go do it in his room. Nothing, not even outright bribery of every kind could dissuade him. He'd proclaim to one and all that he would get this or that prize if he pooped on the potty, but when it came to the moment there was so much fussing and crying over it all that I would give in and it would be a pullup in his room for the deed.

Grandma and Grandpa came to visit last week. There was some cajoling, and fussing, and one missed day of "going." The next day he agreed to sit on the potty. I could hear him chattering away to himself, flipping the pages of a book while he sat. And then. I could almost hear a catch in his little voice as he said: I did it! Daddy took him to Target, to pick out a grand potty prize. And while there's some work to be done regarding the logistics of such things as wiping, we've been going on the potty ever since.

I feel slightly silly, and maybe it's just pregnancy hormones, but I found myself tearing up at the jubilation in his voice at his accomplishment. Here's to my stubborn-sweet son, who does it all "My way!"

The Complaint Closet

If I'd known that a whole lotta my maternity clothes wouldn't fit me anyway the second time around, I might not have held onto so much. My top half is covered pretty well, but I have yet to find bottoms of any kind that aren't annoying the heck out of me (binding, sagging, just not fitting or uncomfortable in general...). Since the weather has flipped from pretty nice to 40s and wet, I'm lucky I'm able to leave the house.

On the plus side, I'm counting my blessings that H made it out of Scotland before the Iceland volcano went kablooey. What a mess. I feel for those poor travelers, and I'd really be outta my mind if H were still stuck overseas.

I did find some only mildly uncomfortable maternity pants to wear, and got out of the house with some of my local Mom friends last night. Unknown to me and to Melissa, another preggo Mom due around the same time, the ladies had conspired to make this our "baby shower." They wouldn't let us pay for dinner, and we each got a Target gift card to look out for some baby things... Yummy appetizers and dinner, lots of laughs and conversation - I have the best friends.

Unfortunately it ain't just the ice cream

Don't get me wrong - I am super-excited to meet our new little guy! But at just over halfway there (23 weeks), my reactions swing wildly from Wow, where did the time go? one minute to Holy Sh*t, where did the time go? the next. I think it is most often correlated to the physicality of a moment. I'm five years older than the last time I did this preggo thing, and the bod is complaining! I'm also chasing the four year old, who is really a pretty good kid. It's just that his normal energy level could drain me when I wasn't pregnant, let alone now... thank goodness for the Mommy-break of preschool. Mix in a liberal dose of recent spousal stress, and whew! Lately I'm - not sure if a mess is the right word. I'll settle for stressed. And this conjures up worries for when I will need to do more than just carry kid #2 around. I've developed a healthy respect in recent years for my friend Kim - who does it all, with 5 children. I hope I'm as good a Mommy with two.

And on that note, I'm off to search out some ice cream, some chocolate, something...

Pop

Daniel has always been a kid who liked participating in crafts. We've recently seen an explosion in drawing around our place. Sweeping crayons, vibrant colors - and even some figures emerging. Some are helped along by the "draw a dinosaur" video we recently found at the library. I'm loving it - only thing is, I think I am going to have to hide the computer paper. Mr. Observant kept his eye on where I get the stash for the printer, and has started helping himself every time there is a new creation in the works.

I may be fooling myself, but with my first pregnancy I seem to remember more of a - call it a gradual expansion of my figure. This time around, I'm feeling like I rolled over one day and poof! Clothes don't fit, and I'm starting to lumber a bit. Add to that, I'm experiencing the hip pains sooner as well which is making for some interesting late nights as I try to get comfortable and get some sleep.

We've had several days now in the 50s, which has led to park visits. It's glorious to get outside! As I drive Daniel to preschool, there are people out and about who are tending to their yards and doing various out-of-doors projects without having to be bundled to the gills. It's a very anticipatory - Spring feeling, which feels wonderful!

Frakkin' Bureaucracy

I am so angry, I haven't known what to do with myself. I really don't like paperwork. And every year, despite my best intentions I wait until April 14th to file our taxes. (There's no excuse really. In the grand scheme of things, our taxes are relatively uncomplicated, we usually receive a refund...)

This year, I thought I'll be on top of this. E-file your taxes! Less paper! Get your refund in 8-14 days! Who can argue with that? The taxes were bounced. Immediately. The reason? My birthday on the form didn't match what the Social Security office had on file for me.

Excuse me?

Come to find out, during the stretch of time that I got married and had to change my name on every piece of identification I owned, somebody down at Social Security made a boo-boo and entered my wrong date of birth. Never mind that I've been working and paying taxes since I was sixteen, including for five years with the new name before stepping away from the paid workforce to raise my son. And their mistake comes back to bite me hard now?

They freely admit it is their mistake. They can actually look in their records and say that up until 2001 they had it correct. Well for cripes sakes, change it back!

No. Instead I have to drive a 40 mile round trip, take a number and wait an interminable amount of time in an office to present my birth certificate and prove who I am. I tried to do so this morning while the little man was in preschool, so I could at least spare him the aggravation. I had to leave, as I ran out of time to wait. This means I get to do this tomorrow with Daniel. This also means that the Social Security Administration's error will cost me 80 miles on my car, gas money, an unknown number of hours and a mountain of aggravation for me and my kid.

Frakkin' bureaucracy.

Next Stop - The Baby Zone

We waited awhile to start really talking to Daniel about this whole new baby business. I mean, if I mention that a friend of his is having a birthday party next week he's ready to put on his shoes and go now.

But now after all kinds of good doctor visits, and being able to confirm that it is going to be a baby brother the discussions have begun in earnest. His reactions, and those of some of his friends have been priceless.

We attended a new playgroup yesterday with one of his best friends. At one point, Marisa whispered to her Mom who indicated that she should ask me. She shyly looked up and asked: "How is the baby doing? Does he kick you alot?" Apparently she had also asked her mother if I was bringing the baby to playgroup that day!

I had made plans to visit my doctor once again that same day because of the increasing sinus infection I was dealing with... When he discovered we were headed to the doctor, Daniel asked if they were going to take the baby out. I had to explain to both that he's small yet, and won't be arriving until it's warm and practically their birthdays!

I've been wondering how news of the impending arrival would sit with Daniel, as he's been Mr.-One-And-Only for going on five years now. My mother once said that I was fine with the arrival of my little brother. Until he got mobile. And could get into my stuff. It's a process, right?

And then there were four....

We're thrilled to announce an addition to the Dirt Makes Fat household: Daniel will be getting a new baby brother this coming July! I've been lucky, in that my main symptom has been fatigue. Man, am I tired. By the end of the day it is a struggle to keep my eyes open. And if I sit down to watch a TV show, forget it. I've started advising H to put a tape in for most everything, because I invariably fall asleep and miss the end!

Unfortunately February has been the month of illnesses, beginning with a tummy bug for the whole family and progressing to a wicked, wicked cold for all. Mine seems to be morphing into a sinus infection of some sort so it isn't done with me yet. I'm short on sleep and long on germs, and every time I have considered sitting down to write at this blog I've had a list of complaints that bored me to no end. I've decided to share my news in an effort to push on into the fun and exciting stuff in store as we head into March and beyond.

Mom to two boys. Who would've thought?? What an adventure!

Sleepytime

Over Daniel's increasingly busy four years we have run the spectrum of sleep issues. There was the waking every two hours early on, the sleep all day/play all night phase, and the I'll only sleep in the swing/bouncy chair/with you stages. After many tears on all our parts, we got him into his own bed and his own room, although the need to have "company" as he falls asleep has been a struggle.

Recently we have been getting more night-time visits from the little guy. In many ways, I don't mind too much. He's not crying, or being loud and obnoxious. I'm just suddenly aware of a little presence next to the bed. If I say softly: Do you want to come in? He doesn't do more than nod his head and clutch his blankie tighter. I flip back the covers and let him crawl between H and me, and all three of us drift off to sleep pretty quickly.

I'm torn, as I know that most recommendations are to take him by the hand and lead him back to bed. At three am, though, a peaceful family snooze holds lots of appeal. Early on, I read lots of baby books on sleep, and I have to say that after awhile I tossed them. They didn't serve a lot of purpose other than to make me as a new Mom feel horrible about everything I had done wrong since Day 1. And I remember blessing the Pedi who once told me: Sometimes you just do what you have to do, so that everyone can get some sleep.

If I ask Daniel why he comes to visit us, the usual response is: I was cold. My restless sleeper, he gets rid of any covers pretty quickly and doesn't really think to cover up again. That same restlessness means that I wake up with blond hairs tickling my ear, and H has Daniel's feet firmly planted in his kidneys come morning. Yet I am reluctant to give up a little cozy family time while I can get it.

Did you have sleep issues with your kids? How did you wind up handling them?

Aaand - I've just had nothin'

It's been a combination of things really. There's some stuff that I'm not prepared to talk about in this space yet. Couple that with several rounds of getting sick: the attack of the cough that keeps me from getting any sleep, and a stomach virus that swept through the family - and I've been very blog-neglectful lately.

There's a general winter funk that usually sets in around this time too. The holidays are over, and I just get caught up in dealing with a high-energy four year old who can't get outside as much as he would like and - enough with the cold already!

It's time to snap out of it.

I'm relishing the little things like warm cinnamon rolls on a Sunday morning, and Daniel's excitement over a new dinosaur video from the library. What are the little things that break you out - or even just warm and sustain you through these winter months?

Well, this doesn't feel new...

My cough is back. Sigh. Somehow every little bug winds up hitting me with a nasal drip/cough thing, and I spend the wee hours of the night - hacking. It feels as though I've tried every remedy over the years, and very little seems to have a calming effect on the cough allowing me to get some sleep.

Off to find something else to sip - hot chocolate? If there is one saving grace, Daniel listened to me cough so much in utero that it doesn't seem to faze him at all. He is currently sleeping away in the next room.

All Thumbs

There are times where this Mommy Gig is truckin' along smoothly and I feel like I have a handle on things. Daniel is having a blast at preschool, I'm staying on top of projects, carving out time for H and I, finding time for me and some friends.

Yet somehow the end of the year is tinged with this scramble/trying to keep up feeling. The weather is colder and I am trying hard not to hibernate. The four year old is full of bounding boy-energy, all sweetness one minute and contrary the next. I'm still hunting for picky-eater meal solutions. And dressing for the cold/heading out to preschool took an interesting turn the other day when he put his mittens on backwards. His pinkies were actually in the thumbs of his mittens, and he was struggling to pick something up. He absolutely, positively insisted that this was the way the mittens went and nothing I could do would convince him otherwise.

Mom of a four year old mantra: "Pick your battles. Pick your battles." Repeat often.

Zumba!

Simply put, I'm a bit of a couch potato.

No, I take that back. I don't shy away from active things, but I prefer them to be activities themselves. I grew up water skiing and swimming, riding bikes and ice skating, playing softball... one of my favorite Christmas memories is the year the entire family got cross-country skis and that became a family activity for awhile.

Even though I know I need to exercise, talk to me about going to the gym or running or something and I can feel my shoulders go into an automatic shrug. It's just not all that appealing. (H, on the other hand, gets grouchy if he can't work out at least every other day.) So I was a little bit surprised to find myself at a local dance studio recently with a few friends to give Zumba a try.

I was even more surprised to find - I think I like it! Latin and international music, combined with (mostly) easy to follow moves - Zumba keeps my heart rate up. I feel good and energized when the hour is over. Even better, our energetic instructor is low-key and very adaptable and encouraging. I like the reassurance that if I'm having trouble with a move to, "Just shake it! Move to the beat! Have fun!"

Me and my lack of rhythm may have actually found a workout routine. Yay!

Bits O' Grace

1. Fall days that reach 67 degrees!
2. Mommy friends from my now, sadly, defunct Family Network. You ladies save my sanity...
3. Zumba! So refreshing to get moving...
4. Early morning snuggles with the four year old.
5. Testing myself on Cash Cab trivia.

Grace-Full

1. Pumpkin Whoopie Pies!
2. Snuggling into Daniel when he came to our room and climbed into bed in the early am.
3. The bluest sky.
4. The crunch of leaves underfoot on a crisp day.
5. Tex-Mex shepherd's pie followed by a chaser of limeade.

November seems like the perfect month to revisit Grace-full Mondays, inspired by 365 Days of Grace.

Underwater Adventure

Our fishy saga continues. One of the two guppies went belly-up awhile back. I've been content to sit back with the one fish, so imagine my shock when there was a new crop of little fry several weeks later. Remembering the disappearance of the last batch of babies, we scooped about a dozen out into a little bowl that sits on the counter in the kitchen. The ones remaining in the tank seemed to disappear after a bit.

Peering into the tank a week or so ago I discovered at least four more babies. Either they were very good at hiding from the carnage, or Mama Guppy had a few more!

Can a fish be perpetually pregnant? How long are guppy pregnancies anyway? I've been thinking of reintroducing the babies as they get a bit larger and hopefully some will make it. In the meantime I'm just grateful that I haven't had to explain to my little man why the fish he named Daniel keeps having offspring!

Boo

So first my Yahoo email address got hacked. Highly embarrassing, and many apologies to anyone who has had any email contact with me whatsoever.

Now in the midst of this past week of single parenting with H out of town, I come down with yet again The Cough That Won't Quit. I was checking out at a store this morning and could hardly get a breath for the coughing. The poor clerk was sympathetic, but I have visions of her sanitizing everything as soon as I walked out the door.

Sigh.

This week has been hard. I'm off to hug my pillow and fantasize about ghost cupcakes landing on my doorstep.

The Complaint Department

So we've been doing this potty-training thing, and it's going swimmingly during the daytime. We're still working on the whole dry at night thing, and so I popped a Pull-up on Daniel the other evening before getting his PJs on. He proceeded to get a rather odd look on his face, and start itching at first one leg and then the other. I finally peeked, only to see strips of what looked almost like packing tape on the leg elastics of the Pull-up.

Huh? And I've actually pulled two out of this package with the same problem. Where in the past, I might have simply thrown away defective product I am going to sit down and write a (nicely worded) complaint email to Huggies/Kimberly-Clark.

The Internet is a great tool for this. Where in the past, the complaint process could be laborious and time-consuming Internet communication greatly shortens the distance between company and consumer. I've had two instances over the past several years, both food-related, where I felt a complaint was in order. I bought a tub of margarine once, only after a knife-full or two I discovered a hollowed out air bubble in the center. Enough of the margarine was gone, that I felt I had not gotten what I paid for. In another case I bought some cookies-n-cream ice cream. Got it home, to find two tiny cookie bits in a sea of vanilla. Again, nothing wrong with the ice cream - but certainly not what I'd paid for. Both times, after inquiring emails to the companies, I received apologies and coupons for free product. Over and above that, I had the feeling of being heard and certainly a stronger inclination to give these companies' products another try.

I'm off to start writing.

From the too cute files...

Daniel gets into a lot of play-acting: superheroes of all kinds, firemen, policemen. A park near us put in loads of new play structures recently, one of which is shaped like a fire truck. The whole area is peppered with bells that the kids can ring by stomping on them. He spent a good portion of our afternoon there yesterday stomping and ringing and yelling "Fire!" and then racing for the fire truck.

After watching some cop shows with Daddy, Daniel started talking about how he's going to: "Put handcups on you!"

Handcups. It's too cute! I haven't the heart to correct it.

Hello, SuperNanny?

Just spent several days in meltdown-land with the four year old, and I'm really looking for a map or an arrow or a guide or a big freakin' neon sign or something to point me out of this minefield. We seem to have crossed more firmly into the realm of Daniel wanting to do everything himself. I love the independence he is showing, and I certainly do admire his persistence. If only I could do something about his frustration level.

It could be anything that sets it off. Getting his socks on, the building blocks that won't go together, wanting dessert when he hasn't eaten his meal yet (and of course being told no!). And woe betide me if I offer help, or even just directions. Trying to move things along by say, implying that if the socks and shoes are not on then you can't meet your friend Marisa at the library just transfers the storm. Instead of wailing about the socks I get wailing about NOOO! I WANT TO GOOOO!

Other responses run the gamut of ignoring him (made all the more difficult when the aforementioned wailing involves much clutching of Mommy's legs) to picking him up and removing him bodily from a situation. Or in the case of being at home, plunking him in his room and shutting the door for a time out.

Maybe it's a school adjustment? He's been a champ at preschool, and I've talked to some folks who have suggested that some kids expend so much energy being "on" and "good" at school that they do a bit of a fall-apart when they get home in a safe environment. I'm not sure yet. I just want to get back to some cheery interaction with my kid.