Thursday, July 16, 2009

Get a haircut and get a real job.

Some days I want to get up in the morning and go to work. Not like I do every morning, but get dressed, drop off my kids somewhere and go sit at a desk for a few hours. Sure, my life would be different, but would it be all that bad? I mean, right now I’m ignoring an all too-energetic Little Monster as he is “strapping me in” to some figment of his imagination, trying to climb into my lap while discussing robots, yelling at the dog, eating a waffle, trying to steal a sip of my juice and “helping” me on the computer. Yes, he can do all of that at the same time. My newborn is laying next to me in her pack n play punching the air and making faces into a mirror and grunting as she tries to figure out this new thing called pooping.

Today is, in fact, a day when I am thinking about all of those moms who go to work, and eat meals without interruption, sharing with their toddlers or nursing at the same time. Mostly because I had already yelled at Little Monster about forty times before ten this morning. So far today, I’ve only sprouted 13 new grey hairs, and I haven’t pulled any out. It’s still early.

I still work. I mean, I do all of the stuff I’d still have to do if I had a job (laundry, making dinner, cleaning, groceries, etc.) I think I might actually do more of that since I’m home. Maybe. And I still do some of the stuff I used to do at work, only I’m blessed enough to be able to do it from home. I’m sure my clients enjoy hearing dialogue from a 2 ½ year old while they are trying to explain what color they want their ID badge to be. I mean, who wouldn’t find it distracting to hear him in the background? It’s nothing short of a miracle that I can hear anything over his side of the conversation:

Mommy! ME WANT Orange marmalade. No. White butter on toast. Me want Orange Juice. Me no want milk. Please Mommy, me want orange juice. Mommy, me sit in yours lap. Mom, me want cereal mommy. Me want cereal. Me want cereal mommy. Mommy. Me watch Super Why? Me watch super why!!! Mommy, we have chocolate? Me have one? TWEEEEEEEEEEESE! MOOOOooom. ME WANT Chocolate! No, No go potty in toilet. Me Mommy baby. Nope. I big boy baby. I no go potty no toilet. Me see potty train? Me go school? School? In school bus? School bus yellow mom? Mom! Mom, mom, mom, mom, mom, mom, mom, MOMMy! Talk to me Mommy. Talk to me. Mom, Look Mom. The sun up? The sun up mom. The sun shining in the window. Me walking on the sun mom. Look Mom! Mom, mom, mom, mom, mom, mom. Me have this backpack. (grunting sounds as he puts on imaginary backpack loaded down with who only knows what). Singing. Me have baaa-aaack paaa-aaack. WHOOOOOO!!!!!! Me have back pack me have back pack me have back pack. Me want cookies mom. I have make cookies, mommy? I help make cookies. Moooo OOOM. I want make cookies.Me have spiderman snack? Mommy? Me go park? Me need sunblock. NO get sunburn. Get my dirt out mom. Dirt out my fingernails. Do thumb mom. Do dis finger. Do this mommy. Mommy. Moooooom, do this. Do this, yes, dirt under there. This finger mom. Mommy, look! I wear yours sunglasses. Mommy where’s mine hat? Mom. Look! Me find a chocolates! One chocolate a you, and one a me. We have them? We eat them? Thank you mommy. Eat that. Eat that. Eat that MOM! Eat THAT! Turn on TV in living room? Tweese Mommy? TV in living room? I don’t want watch TV in mine room, I want watch TV in living room. Living room living room living living living room. MOM, I’m going up the elevator! Up the elevator mom. I get the clock.

All the while he’s climbing on me, helping me type, trying to wake up his little sister, who I’ve FINALLY successfully gotten back to sleep after an hour of crying because of who knows why. (And no, that is NOT an exaggeration -- that is the actuality of our household while he is awake, or not watching Calliou. If anything, it is downplayed, because that is only about thirty seconds worth of dialogue. Not the Momma should confirm that fact.)

I’m pretty sure none of that would happen in an office environment. I guess I could have a coworker like that, but I doubt it. I’m also pretty sure the majority of my coworkers would be potty trained and wouldn’t demand diaper changes. I doubt that I’d ever hear that terrible sound of water splashing onto carpet only to realize that it’s really my 2 ½ year old who has removed his diaper in anticipation of getting dressed to go to the park and is now only BARELY missing my desktop with his stream. I probably wouldn’t have to remind a coworker that they should do that in the toilet. And I’m DARN certain that after sending them to the bathroom to finish what they started, I wouldn’t hear “Yay! I did It!” the toilet flushing, and then witness them running around naked with poop sticking out from between their cheeks where they failed to wipe. I’m pretty sure I’d file a lawsuit if my employer expected me to wipe any of my coworkers butts after such an incident.

At least if I was in an office I wouldn’t have to look at the disaster that is my house. The disaster that less than 24 hours ago was at least reasonably clean. The disaster that I only dug out yesterday.

However, in an office I wouldn’t get to watch my Little Monster play with the pretend toys he makes up all day. Who knows why I even purchase toys for that kid, he doesn’t play with them. He plays with the air more than anything else. I wouldn’t get to hear the dialogue that accompanies this pretend play, and I certainly wouldn’t get to participate in it. And, we all know that if I worked in an office it would require that I drop Butterball off, and that would be heart wrenching. Especially considering she hasn’t been out of my sight for longer than an hour since she’s been born. I’d miss her terribly.

Yeah, some days I want to quit this 24/7 job and trade it in for a 9 to 5. But, then I regain (or is it really losing?) my sanity as Little Monster lectures me about not touching scissors because they will hurt me. And then he gets on his hands and knees, barks, climbs into my lap while panting and demands that I throw an imaginary bone for him to play fetch with – all while I nurse his baby sister, answer the phone and try to create another ID card design for another client. This is the life.

Well, as long as no one is barfing.

Monday, July 06, 2009

San Fransisco's Most expensive Parking Lot...

We decided to take a spontaneous trip up to San Fran for a few days last week. We found a great campground on the beach in Pacifica. It was a bit expensive, but hey, we'd be by the beach. I won't tell you the campground name, but if you google RV Park and San Fransisco, I'd bet that the "RV RESORT" that comes up is probably the one we stayed at.

What we didn't count on:

too close for comfort?

too close for comfort?

It's a good thing we didn't plan on spending much time at the campsite. No, that's not a parking lot. This is the actual campground. Picnic Table? No. Room to open the door and walk out? Not really. Room to actually back into the site, pull out of the site, or open slides? Barely. Total Rip-off? Nearly.

Sunday, July 05, 2009

Butterball's Birth Story.

Why yes. We're still here. And I guess it's time I tell you how Butterball came to be. No, I'm not going to tell you how she was conceived. I'm pretty sure you already know that.

My pregnancy with Butterball was pretty uncomfortable. Way uncomfortable, in fact. I'd even go as far as to say I was miserable. I was happy to be miserable, though. The 20 weeks of terrible morning sickness was followed by about 3 weeks of glorious honeymoon 2nd trimester. But the third trimester stuff started a lot earlier than with my first pregnancy. I couldn't move, roll over in bed or walk without pain. Eating was hard to do, sleeping nearly impossible, and I spent about half my life in the bathroom trying to go, but only dripping. I spent months at night praying that the baby would come out as SOON as she was healthy enough. I also spent weeks telling Little Monster to tell his baby sister to come out. Every time I asked him his answer was "Mommy, Butterball say No!"

I'd been having regular braxton hicks contractions at night for several days, a couple of weeks perhaps. Once it was even enough to call the people who were going to watch Little Monster to forewarn them that they may be getting a middle of the night call. For nights I would get excited, go to bed to get some sleep, and wake up pregnant without contractions.

Thursday I woke up feeling pretty crummy. Everything made me want to either scream, or cry. A couple of times the crying won out. I called Not the Momma at work, hoping he was on his way home several times, but couldn't get a hold of him. I thought I was getting the flu, and hoped that he could come home and take care of Little Monster while I napped and tried to get over whatever was going on. While Not the Momma was swimming for the Navy to ensure that he is fit, I was begging Little Monster to tell his sister to come out. His answer, which has never changed became "Mommy, Butterball say in a little bit." I still didn't think much of it at that point. I figured he was repeating what we'd been telling him for months -- that "in a little bit" he'd be a big brother.

As the day wore on, I felt worse and worse. Not the Momma had a softball game, and wanted to go. I didn't think it was a great idea, because I was worried that this "malaise" was really early labor, but at the same time, I didn't want to keep him home for nothing. So, he went to his softball game I put Little Monster to bed. As I was putting him to bed, I asked him to tell his sister to come out. This time his answer was "Mommy, Butterball say yes." I still didn't think much of it. I wasn't having contractions that were regular or painful.

Fast forward one hour. Contractions seemed pretty real, and they were five to seven minutes apart. Not the Momma came home, and I told him that this could be the real thing. He ran around the house grabbing things as I showered. We told our friends that they could very well be getting a two year old in the middle of the night. Then we went to bed. I very well expected to wake up in the middle of the night needing to time contractions and head to the hospital, but that didn't happen. I woke up twice with contractions, but they weren't regular. I was sure it was going to be another false alarm night. However, I got up in the morning, and the contractions picked up again. By 9:00 we had the kid in the car and were headed in to the hospital.

We got to the hospital around 9:30, we were admitted by 10:00, and at 10:30, they ordered an ultrasound to check the size of the baby. Because I was so uncomfortable, and because Little Monster was so big, they were a bit worried that this baby was going to be very large as well. Shortly after, the ultrasound tech arrived. Let me tell you, dealing with the pain from contractions while laying flat on your back -- not an ideal situation. She estimated that the baby was 10 lb 13 oz. Knowing that the numbers could be off by 20% in either direction, I was NOT prepared to have a natural birth. It was 11:30. The C-Section was scheduled for 12:30, and then the whirlwind began. People came in to do blood work, IV's were connected. Release forms needed to be re-signed since my doctor was out of town. By 12:30, I was being wheeled into the OR.

Anesthesia didn't go like expected. The spinal they wanted to do wouldn't take, I could feel all kinds of craziness in my left leg. It had a lot to do with the way the baby was laying and messing up my spine. So, an epidural it was, which was fine. at 1:28, she was born. 9 lb 7 oz, and two weeks early. Unfortunately, she'd taken a big suck of fluid before they pulled her out, and she couldn't cry enough to get the fluid out. She cried and her color was good, but when she quit, she'd turn blue. So, they put her in the nursery under an Oxygen hood for a few hours. It was awful being separated from her for so long.
It was a bit scary knowing that my baby wasn't breathing room air normally, and I was terrified about the whole C-section experience. Recovery has been easier than I expected, but definitely harder than after a natural birth. Women who opt for a C-Section to avoid labor are nuts. But then, that's just my opinion. There are plenty of reasons to have them, but they are SO much harder to recover from, and WAY more painful.
Dad, Baby and Mom.
A few things I learned: Morphine does nothing for me except make me sleepy. I still felt every stitch of pain. After surgery, get up the first time they offer it -- it gets easier after that. There's no need to be a martyr or a superhero -- take the pain drugs.

The doctor seemed to be a little bit concerned that we opted for the C-Section unnecessarily since she was smaller than Little Monster was. I don't have one ounce of regret about the decision we made. The chance that she was going to be the full 20% smaller was too low for me to be comfortable doing anything else.

A month and 6 days later, we're healthy, happy, and I'm feeling a million times better than I expected I would. And this, this isn't some Anne Geddes baby, this is my baby girl, happy healthy and now 11 lbs 2 oz, and 3 inches longer than she was at birth.

Sweet Pea

We're blessed to have this new member of our family. I feel even more blessed that this morning, without prompting, Little Monster said: "Mommy, that Butterball? I love her."