We Have Liftoff!

Ethan has been a stubborn little booger when it comes to things like walking.  He seems to get sort of stalled at each stage of the game.  I can remember when he was "commando crawling" around and it seemed like he'd never get his belly off the ground.  Now he's been crawling and cruising for quite some time.  Each of our pushes to do any walking seemed to be met with an attitude of:  Feh.  Why do that silly stuff when I can crawl around here so much faster?
We're finally seeing him initiate some steps all on his own, which sends us cheering.  I'm trying to remind myself too, however, to not wish each stage away.  It's those little milestones that take your breath away, when you realize they have suddenly slipped by you...  the last time breastfeeding, the last bath where they fit in the sink, the last word they sweetly mangled in such a cute way that you had to keep it...  Savoring these precious times.

The Other Side of the Scale

It's everywhere: talk of the obesity epidemic in children, campaigns to improve school lunches... even one memorable article I read somewhere where someone was advocating taking obese children away from their parents. So I've felt a bit adrift recently after Ethan's one year pedi appointment where we found out that he had bottomed off the chart where weight is concerned. My reactions have skipped willy-nilly from "They must think I don't feed this kid..." to "What if there's something terribly wrong?" We were drawing blood anyway for the lead test, and so the pediatrician checked a number of things, 98% of which were fine. Low protein and low IGA resulted in a referral to a pediatric gastoenterologist.

That appointment seemed pretty anti-climactic (take a history, and yup - he seems pretty healthy) and resulted in an appointment with a nutritionist. Long story short, we're massively striving to find ways to get extra calories into this kid. I add a teaspoon of canola oil to every meal. Push proteins, fats, dairy, avocado, cheeses, butter - anything I can think of to give his calories a boost. We just had our followup appointments, and yay he gained .7 pounds! If we were pushing calories and he weren't responding we'd have to look at other problems, such as celiac disease. But I think we're headed in the right direction. Honestly, I think he's so busy/active that he doesn't pay attention to food cues. Rather than let him lead I'm going to have to be stricter about plunking him down and insisting that "We're eating now." Still roughly 2 pounds to go to get back on the charts...

To Sleep...

Sleep training sucks. I know I created this monster, and that it will take some time to undo it, but Holy Cow. Sleep training. Sucks. My eyeballs feel like they've been rolled in Tabasco Sauce, kicked around in some beach sand awhile, and been popped back in my forehead a little too close together.

Ethan spent the first two days at home with us sleeping in his crib. Then refused altogether. We slept awhile in a bouncy chair, and then it was co-sleeping. He is so mobile now that none of us were getting proper sleep. Well, perhaps he was until he pulled himself off the end of the bed one morning before I woke up. And I knew it was time.

This past week has taken me back to those newborn months of waking round the clock for feedings. It's like the kid has some sort of internal gyroscope. He can be sound asleep and the very act of trying to lay him in his crib has him awake and shrieking. Tonight is the very first night that he went into the crib with only a whimper. Please, please let this be the start of a trend! I am off to bed!

Daze

So Daniel's kindergarten adventure ended with one of those fun school programs. You know the kind - they're equal parts being proud of your kid showing off what he's learned, signing songs and so forth and equal parts getting hysterical over the antics of umpteen 5 and 6 year-olds packed into risers and hamming it up. Our local high school even taped the production and so Grandma and Grandpa got a chance to see it via DVD.

For a relatively unscheduled summer, we've somehow gotten awfully busy. Immediately following the kindergarten graduation, we set out for Gettysburg. It was a trip we had planned for earlier in the year, except that H's back had gone out on him and we weren't able to travel in early May. If you're at all into history and the Civil War, Gettysburg is a fascinating town with loads of stuff to see and do. Just for fun, we stepped into one of those photography studios and got an "old time" photograph of our family.

A trip to Grandma and Grandpa's place in Wisconsin almost didn't happen after Daniel came down with a stomach bug right beforehand. Last thing we would need was 2 days driving with barfy kids (or adults). In the end, we crossed our fingers and set out. Ethan was feverish for the 4th of July (an old-time, small-town parade - great fun!). A relaxing and fun time was had by all, until Grandma fell ill with the bug right before our departure. Thank goodness we all have stayed well since.

In the meantime my baby turned 1 this month! My big boy will turn 6 in August, and (pinch me!) will be starting 1st Grade in the Fall. I am hunkering down to sleep train the little man, and hope to come out of Zombie, No Sleep Land before school starts. Off to bed!

Uncle

How do I do this again? We keep adding new wrinkles to this "sleep in a crib" business. Ethan has slept in the darn thing, but the slightest peep around the house wakes him up. The other day? When I (oops) let him fall asleep in the chair? Big Brother Daniel could run screaming from one end of our little condo to the other, and Ethan hardly twitched a muscle. I think the circles under my eyes are developing circles from all the up and down, interrupted sleep. I want to grit my teeth and power through this, but I think I'm getting a little loopy from the incomplete sleep schedules.

And Ah, lovely New England has gifted us with what the news has called the 6th storm in as many weeks. I'm not sure, I've stopped keeping count. We're at 60+ inches of snow which is more than the average for an entire season. And it's January. I cry Uncle!

Sleepless in New England

Ethan celebrated his half birthday this week. I blinked, and it's been six months! We marked the occasion with a pediatrician appointment. All good positive news on height and weight and so forth, except for the dreaded words. You've really got to get him in a crib.

From early on the kid expressed an extreme dislike of his crib. I quickly found out that he loved the little chair that used to be Daniel's and that he would sleep like a champ in that... Pop him in the chair, park him next to our bed, pull out the foot and recline him back and poof! Problem solved. I was getting pretty jealous? possessive? of the lovely sleep I was getting, and so I delayed moving him to his bed. The doctor expressed some safety concerns as he is getting more mobile all the time, and so on top of the three shots trauma Mommy decided it was time to be sleeping in the crib.

Night #1 was brutal. Hours of 10 minutes wailing in the crib, 10 minutes of Mommy holding and comforting, 1o minutes of crib crying, 10 minutes of Mommy soothing. Poor kid was so exhausted that he would fall asleep immediately in my arms when I picked him up. But as soon as his back hit the mattress - Wahhh! I think we slept from about 1am - 5:30am.

Night #2 was a vast improvement. Maybe 20 minutes of back and forth with one wakeup in the middle of the night.

We had our last feeding of the evening tonight and I just put him down in his crib. He kicked hard for a minute and then turned his face toward the wall and just seemed to go to sleep. Could it be?? I'm hoping for a better night's sleep for all. And maybe now I can stop feeling like the Wicked Witch of the West...

sick, sick, sick

I know it's inevitable, with two kids and a hubby who works outside in all kinds of weather. But I can't help but cringe as one of us starts to get sick. Daniel had a slight cough Saturday night which has morphed into the whole tribe of us sneezing and coughing at all hours. A random fever moves through the house occasionally, but only seems to strike at night.

This is on top of my feeling fairly certain that Ethan has started teething. The kid is gnawing on anything he can get his hands on - and even just his hands if nothing else is available. He's normally so even-tempered and smiley that the crying jag we just had tonight tears at my heart. We have a regularly scheduled doctor's appointment tomorrow, so hopefully I can get some advice. I'm pretty sure I blocked Daniel's teething from my memory...

Tag Team Parenting

Long before Ethan arrived, I sort of wondered how it would go this going from one to two kids. It's felt a little odd. I mean, I've been blessed to be able to stay home with my children and for so long my focus has just been Daniel. Suddenly I'm back to the beginning with diapers and feedings and that special kind of attentiveness that comes from a little one needing you so much.

At five years old, Daniel is Mr. Independent and I can ask him to help me, or do things for himself like getting dressed. And that's a definite relief. Yet by the end of the day I'm so very grateful for H's arrival home from work. He can wrangle the five year old, and help him burn off some of that boy-energy while I take care of the little one. A side effect of this tag team method, however is that H complains that he needs more time with Ethan, while I often feel like I am neglecting Daniel. Still working to find that balance, I guess.

Enough Said...

Best of the Mommybloggers... and my mantra of the moment.

A Wild Ride

Well.

That didn't go how I imagined.

On Tuesday, July 13th we welcomed Ethan - the newest member of our little family. I also joined the ranks of those somewhat disappointed in their birth experience, but not for the reasons you might think.

Around 5pm I was lying down, #1 Son and I watching some cartoons together when I felt a distinct "pop." Checking out the situation, I couldn't decide that my water had broken or contractions had begun. I mean I had one or two, but that was not unusual at the 38-weeks stage of the game. Still puzzling, I called the hospital. Unfortunately for me - I got the OB on call rather than any of my doctors. Oh no, she insisted. You'd be leaking fluid or having timable contractions. Call if you have that. This is despite my relaying yet again that labor with my last child never had timable contractions to start. Waited awhile, H came home. Still didn't feel right, so we made the decision to have Daniel spend the night at his cousin's house for a sleepover. If it was nothing, so be it. But if we had to head to the hospital, then he was taken care of. H drove Daniel several towns over.

In the time it took him to make this trip, and start the return I was suddenly having knock you off your feet contractions extremely close together. All I could think was - even if H makes it back, how am I getting to the hospital like this???

I called 911. Embarrassingly, this of course means that the whole circus shows up: fire department, police and the EMTs. They loaded me up in the ambulance, just as H finally made it through traffic back to our place. We all took off for the hospital. The EMTs were asking me questions, while sticking an IV in my arm, and can I just say that their gurneys seem frighteningly small to a whale of a pregnant woman who is flailing around trying to get a handle on her pain? I kept grabbing for something to hold onto, and hitting the button that collapses the back of the gurney. At some point the guy in the back with me yelled, Hey! Pull over and come help me, we're having a baby! Now I am not a yeller, but my high-volume response was: YOU HAVE GOT TO BE KIDDING ME! Pushing on that tiny gurney was going nowhere, so we continued to the hospital.

We came bombing into labor and delivery, and the only thought pitter-pattering through my tiny brain at that point was: Oh thank god, now they can give me something. I've had my eyes screwed shut the entire time, panting (nearly hyperventilating) against the pain. And then I hear from the nurse: Honey, you're fully dilated. It's time to push.

Nonononono. NO! This is the hospital! This is supposed to be where I get the drugs! After what seemed like an unimaginable amount of time, cajoling from the nurses, and a bit of what felt like browbeating from the doctor - who was most decidedly not my favorite person at this point - baby Ethan was born. It was only later that I cobbled together from bits of paperwork the information that they admitted me at 10:17pm and Ethan was born at 10:40pm. That's a grand total of 23 minutes in Labor & Delivery folks!

Eeks. Apparently I go from 0 to 60 in no time when it comes to having children. Daniel was around a 12 hour labor, and that makes Ethan around 5 or 6 hours. The important thing is we're all home, happy and healthy. I'm breastfeeding and short on sleep, but that's the way these early stages go. And IF there are any more children in my future? I think I'm announcing my pregnancy, and scheduling my C-section all at the same time.

Mostly Ghostly

I feel like I am haunting my own house these days. We've hit the 36th week mark for this pregnancy, and I lost my ability to sleep through the night quite some time ago. If it's not getting up to pee, it's due to the hip pain or just the uncomfortably huge belly that I'm trying to maneuver and carry around.

Restless nights, awake, asleep, awake at all hours and days spent trying to keep ahead of a four year old as well as get something done around this place. Riding in or driving a car is an adventure in fidgeting as I try to get comfortable. And this whole thing is fast becoming an exercise in frustration as I want to spend time with the people I care about, friends and family, and get prepared for this new little addition to our family. And all my body wants to do is have me flop on my side on a bed or a couch (at least until the hip pain kicks in again).

On the flip side, the last ultrasound showed everything is going wonderfully. Our little man is 6 pounds 9 ounces, and head down rather than trying to poke out my ribs as much. I'm trying to ride this out, knowing that this is all good in the end, and that the end (July 24th) is in sight. Updates here have been farther between as I don't like to hear myself complain, and wind up feeling like you'd like to hear about something else as well. Hope to be - no, know I will be in a better swing of things soon as we head into an exciting new chapter for our family.

Ready or Not?

Everybody in the pool!

My emotions are on a wild pendulum swing over here these days. I don't want to wish this time away, yet I'm ready for this little man to get out. I haven't slept through the night in months, whether due to trying to find a comfortable position for the belly or dealing with the aching hips. Some days there is so much abdominal pressure that all I feel like doing is flopping on my side on a couch or a bed to try and get some relief. This leaves me guiltily looking around for something for my four year old to do. Thank goodness we still have preschool for a week more! And I have been blessed with some Mommy friends who have willingly taken Daniel on his own for some playdates, giving me some R&R time.

Maybe what's contributing is the fact that the doctor appointments have been stepped up, as well as dropping into the hospital for some monitoring/non stress tests (mostly due to my being considered - ahem - an older mother). Every one is very nice, but you're there hanging out in those rooms where eventually you're going to deliver. I'm watching my little guy play hockey with the monitors strapped to my belly. And there are those hospital blanket covered baby warmers and bassinets. My mind wanders one second from: Is this really going to take until July? I'm just so tired. Let's get a move on, and then at least I get to put this kid down from time to time. To - holy crap, I am so not ready for this! Nothing is ready yet, other than some baby clothes that have been washed. I won't be able to take this kid home because the car seat isn't in, and where will he sleep? And - two kids?? I am so not ready for this!

I'm trying to be tender with myself and just take it moment by moment. Daniel has actually had a very sweet attitude about the whole thing. He talks about getting a baby brother, and how he's going to be gentle with him and help out. In the meantime we have a week left of preschool. We discovered that the town splash pad opened a few days ago, and he and some friends had a blast running through the spray on a hot day. TBall is ending, but I might sign him up for a summer program or two that will keep him busy with a couple of his friends. Some of my Mommy friends have already offered to take him to these programs along with their kids. And I'm trying to remind myself to Take the help. Mommy-does-it-all has to step back a little, allow her friends to help... there are already one or two who are due some big thank yous... and ease up on herself.

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...

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?

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.

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!

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.