Weekend in Wisconsin

You know those weekends that are jam packed and pretty much fantastic, but leave you feeling so exhausted that you almost crave getting home and back into your boring old routine?

Totally had one of those weekends.

It’s Wednesday and I’m just now finally starting to feel like a normal functioning person.

Friday night we met up with a friend of a friend of a friend for a little family photo shoot, in honor of Gus turning two and me being pregnant and holiday card season coming up. How on the ball am I this year right? Total fluke I tell you, normally I think of these things approximately five months after Gus’s birthday, or two weeks before Christmas, that sort of thing. But this time? I am channeling the tiny shrapnel of type A-ness that does, I swear, exist somewhere within the depths of my being. Somewhere, deep down, I am that chick who has everything together. Sure.

The session went really well (aside from my hair), but holy mother I felt like I was going to keel over from exhaustion at the end of it. Our photographer Jill was such a patient and energetic person, full of amazing ideas and seemingly boundless energy. Here’s the sneak peak she sent us, these were from the beginning of the session, after which we drove to the Lake Harriet rose gardens. I can’t wait to see the rest, and will surely post a handful of my favorites as soon as I have them.

Gus was mostly uncooperative, but honestly that came as no surprise to his parents. We were as mentally prepared as we could have been. I even sent Jill an email a few days before to warn her of what she might have gotten herself into. The thing is, she has her own two year old, and we all know how two year olds are, so I didn’t want to come across as that a-hole mom that thinks her kid is so much more unique and different and difficult than anyone else’s kid. I swear I am not that mom. It’s just that I have met other calm, sweet, angelic two year olds, and I’ve also met two year olds who are more apt to cry and pout and hang on their mom when in this type of situation, and I know neither of those are Gus.

He takes the typical craziness of a two year old and ramps it up about 2,000 notches. Case in point, Friday night’s photo session. He arches his back and screams, “Mommy RUN!” when you try to get him to sit still and smile for a picture. He tears off down the street laughing maniacally the second he is given an ounce of freedom. He drags his feet and goes limp when you try to make him hold your hand and walk somewhere he doesn’t want to walk. Towards the end of the two hours, I think we finally kind of figured out little tricks to make him smile and sit still longer than .3 seconds, but yeah, I definitely could have used a bubble bath and a long massage after that experience.

I got neither of the two, I’d like to point out, however after grabbing a bite to eat in Uptown we did go home and immediately got Gus down for the night, and by 9:00 we were both fast asleep having nightmares about future family photo sessions with two little boys. Maybe that was just me. But you get the idea. 9:00 PM Friday night bedtime. Woot! Living the life.

Gus slept until almost 7:45 Saturday morning, which was gloooorious, and I felt like a new woman. We immediately tackled the tasks at hand, which were (1. ) Breakfast, (2.) Scramble to quickly pack our bags and the car for an overnight at the cabin, and (3.) Hit the road towards Wisconsin.

On the way out of town, we stopped for coffee, of course, at the place down the street, and I had to also grab a pumpkin muffin for the three of us to share. Yes, I’m pregnant, and I often eat two breakfasts.

Two hours later we pulled into Dan’s grandparents hobby farm where we spent the rest of the day visiting with family, lounging on the hammock, giving Gus “tractor” rides, and stuffing our faces with cookies and candy corn and delicious tater tot hot dish.

(Val, I’ve swiped a few of your pictures, hope you don’t mind.)

Because we didn’t decide to try to get Gus a nap until super late, he slept for two hours all cozy on the guest bed until 6:30 PM. This is ok, we go with the flow, we cool like that, he wasn’t going to make it without a nap and this meant we were in no hurry to get out of there.

We left the farm at 8:30 to drive the hour through rural Wisconsin to Dan’s parents' lake cabin, where we planned to spend the night. The drive felt more treacherous than it really was, Dan just drives way too fast down those windy little roads, and the GPS had us taking all these crazy dirt roads through the middle of dark nowhere, and I kept waiting for a deer to jump out in front of the car. And then our car would be wrecked, and we’d be stranded in the middle of nowhere, where we would eventually meet our doom via an ax-wielding toothless serial killer in overalls.

We made it to the cabin of course, and I should say I became much more reasonable after 30 minutes when we were on an actual County road that wasn’t named “something and ¼ street”.

Of course, Gus was off-the-wall hyper at the cabin and didn’t go to sleep until after 11:00 PM, due to the late nap and all the driving and the excitement of being at the cabin. And then he woke at 6:00 the next day, raring to go, hearing his little cousins awake and running around out in the living room, and after an hour of trying to force him to go back to sleep, I gave up. And was of course all doom and gloom, “The end is near, 7 hours of sleep?! He will never make it through the day, we are surely in for it!”

Because Sunday afternoon was the big 89th birthday celebration for Dan’s Great Grandmother at another Wisconsin family farm in the area. Blerrrrgh.

Funny how everything is always SO MUCH WORSE in your mind. He was FINE. He slept for an hour on the way to the party, and then seriously just lived it up, running all over the property, pulling wagons, riding trikes, climbing on motorcycles and lawn mowers, going for a walk in the field to see the cows, climbing the fence to feed them grass. Adorables. I was kicking myself for forgetting my camera. The property and views were breathtaking, and the day was just, without a doubt, one of those perfect autumn days. And Gus wore a new sweater that could not have been cuter. Ahh, well.

And the food! Holy delicious, we dined on a huge smorgasbord of hotdishes and homemade bars. (You really can’t get much more Midwestern/Minnesotan than that sentence eh?)

Amazingly, the child did not sleep the whole drive home that evening, which was actually good, because we were able to get him to bed at a reasonable toddler bedtime rather than his usual 9:00-9:30. (He is on a very annoying schedule these days, a product of continually pushing back/fighting his nap to the point that he goes down so late in the afternoon, and then ends up taking monster 2-3 hour naps, so he’s up until almost 10:00 PM every night, and Mommy and Daddy get NO EVENING DOWNTIME. Bugger. We are a bit at a loss as to what to do, because every time we’ve tried to adjust or control his sleep patterns it ends up backfiring on us. Instead I choose to believe/hope that it’s a phase. It’s a phase… It’s a phase…)

So yes the weekend. It was a good one. It was exhausting, lots of driving, traveling, chasing, redirecting, eating, and not sleeping. And I was so happy to be home. Back to things like bills, work emails, a dentist appointment, grocery shopping. Boring. Routine. But home. And I love our home, even when I come back from a weekend to the complete disaster we left as we were racing out the door. I can even appreciate the mess, because I can putz around and tidy up on my own time, in sweat pants, from the sanctity of my own familiar, blessed home.

A few pictures of my youngest son...

I feel a little bit terrible about this, but our ultrasound was about 4 weeks ago and the CD with all the images has just been sitting unopened on our dining room table since the appointment.  I haven't once popped it in the computer to check them out, I haven't shown anyone else the first pictures of our little baby.  No upload to Facebook.

Goodness, this pregnancy is just so so different.  It's so much more just a part of life, like time keeps chugging away, life keeps on, and yeah, I'm pregnant, and yeah, our lives will change drastically in less than four months when this baby boy is born, but I just don't have as much time or energy to put into thinking about all that, worrying, hoping, wishing, wondering.  There's a lot less of all of that this time around, and I don't think it has anything to do with us being less excited about this new baby, it all just feels so much more natural, more of just this lovely little existence. 

This is us, this is now.  Expecting our second son, the belly getting bigger every day, but no time to dwell on that too much because Gus is demanding that we play Thomas trains again.  To heck with the developmental milestones and what fruit my fetus resembles this week, I'm going to go for a walk around the neighborhood with my little guy on his new bike, breath in this glorious crisp fall air.  Or it's bedtime, so we all lay in Gus's bed and, by the dim light of the cute little green lamp, we read sweet stories about dragons and little bears and their mamas, and all the while baby boy kicks and bumps and moves all over inside me and makes those moments all the more special.

Sometimes I have guilt, like I need to be making a bigger deal about things.

I should take more belly pictures.

I should know what's going on with my baby's development now at 24 weeks, but I totally don't, because I haven't logged into Babycenter since about week 7.

Am I totally setting this child up to have the stereotypical "middle child" feelings of inadequacy or of being less loved?

But usually, no.  No guilt.  Because I know how happy and blessed I feel to be pregnant with our second son, things are just different now.  I'm not the same person I was when I was pregnant with Gus.  Older?  Wiser?  Not really.  Just different priorities.  I don't have any problem with other people doing those things, not at all, I just can't seem to muster the energy it takes to get all obsessed.  I don't know why it's so different, but it is.  And for some reason, this time I want to keep things a little closer to my heart.  I feel like this is my family's story I'm living now, this baby, this pregnancy, he's not just mine, he's Dan's second son and he's Gus's little brother and it all just feels so much more special, and private.  I know, it's sort of strange and hard to explain, but it's how I feel.

Anyway, I am excited.  And I do want to share my excitement and get all proud mama and show off my littlest guy.  I'm so glad I finally took a look at these pictures again, because my heart is all a flutter this morning looking at them and thinking about him.  Wondering if he'll have that little fuzz that Gus had when he was born, thinking about what it will be like to look into his eyes and kiss his delicious little dome of a head.  I'm already just so happy to be his mama.

So here he is.  And no, we are nowhere near deciding on his name...

How cute is this chubby/muscly little arm?  Reminds me so much of Gus's little muscles when he was born. 

Specifically, of Gus in this picture.  That's him and me taking a lovely (much needed) nap when he was less than a week old.  I mean right?  They are totally brothers.  (Also, I fear these are the naps I will be pining for come January when in addition to a newborn, I've also got my loud, truck-obsessed little toddler to entertain/care for.  Goodness.  That is an exhausting thought.)    

Long and lean legs, like his dad's.

Classic profile shot.  He was moving around a ton during the ultrasound, thus the reason why he's laying completely the opposite way from the first picture.   

There you have it.  The first pictures of my youngest boy.  I'm happy I finally shared them.  

School

Just because most of the pictures I take with my phone never see the light of day, here are a few recent ones, mostly from last night at our neighborhood’s annual “meet and greet”. It was a lovely evening.










So fall is here and school has started, for Gus and I that means Early Childhood Family Education (ECFE) classes have commenced, and we went to our first “toddler” class yesterday. I’m bummed that it seems none of the ladies I got to know last year in class have stuck with Mondays. Actually it surprises me (and annoys me a little) that a few of them have contacted me to ask if they’ll be seeing us again on Wednesday, and others have left me nice Facebook comments being all, “See you Wednesday!” Nice gesture, thanks for thinking about us, but no. We’re in Monday’s class. I work Tuesday through Thursday. I have always made this clear. That’s why we were in Monday class, WITH YOU, last year.

It shouldn’t bother me, but I just don’t get where the confusion comes from. I sat with these ladies in a circle talking about mom stuff and the elusive work/life/childrearing balance every Monday morning for about 9 months last year. We aren’t best friends, we don’t talk about everything, but jeez, my only days home are Mondays and Fridays, THIS people know. Just like I know the one chick’s husband is a podiatrist and she has become obsessed with running over the past six months, and the blonde perky lady with an Australian accent is from New Zealand and she has two daughters and a son, and that other lady’s little girl was a preemie born at 30 weeks, and that one girl talks loudly and rudely to her neighbor while other people are speaking, and that girl’s kids are always sick and believe it or not, suck at sleeping even more than Gus.

Whatever, it just feels like that classic high school “thing” where I pay attention to other people, I know who they are, I remember the things they say. I know them, but they don’t know me, you know? I always felt that way about the popular kids in high school. Though mommy-hood and parenting groups and all that can be a bit like high school, if you haven’t noticed, so whatever. It really shouldn’t bother me, but I guess I’m admitting it does.

Anyway… this means we know no one in our new class, but it doesn’t seem like anyone else really knows each other either, so this could be good. Clean slate. It really is a new school year, new teacher, new classmates, starting fresh.

Did I mention it’s all boys? Nine two year old boys. Goodness. As you might expect, I was exhausted after our hour and a half class yesterday, because that’s a lot of two year olds all up in one room for the first time scoping out a bunch of new-to-them toys.

Gus and I are both so far removed from all things “school” and routine, it will be an interesting experience. Circle time. Singing songs. Crafts. Sharing. Sitting at a table for more than 45 seconds to eat a snack.

I am hopeful for a fun little adventure each week. And I am getting pumped about the fact that for an hour every Monday I get to go sit in a quiet room and talk to other moms of toddlers and drink coffee while someone else helps to teach my son things like shapes and colors and days of the week, and maybe even to be a little civilized. Though I dare say that last one would probably be asking too much of my little guy. ;)

I am hoping none of the moms are a-holes, but again, that is probably me asking too much of the program. Every moms group needs at least one or two of them, I suppose, keeps things interesting.

TWO

Dear Gus,

You are two. TWO. Can you believe it? Yeah, me neither. Two whole years with you and I just don’t know if I can find the words that convey how wonderful they have been. What did we even do before you? I vaguely remember those mystical days, lots of studying, working, television, happy hours, softball games, wild weekends with friends up north… and beer, lots and lots of beer. Yeah, your mom and dad had fun before you were born, but something was definitely missing, whether we realized it or not.

Guess what buddy, it was you. YOU were missing. And now that we have had you for two life-altering, exciting, exhausting, joyful, overwhelming, perfectly chaotic years, we get it. We get what we were missing.

We are so lucky to have been blessed with you, not just anyone, but YOU buddy. And as you have gotten older and we’ve started to see what kind of person you are becoming, well life just keeps getting better and better.

You are so talkative, chattering constantly about trains and bulldozers, back-hoes, dump trucks, police cars, ambulances, fire trucks, motorcycles. Yeah, you most definitely are into vehicles, and you point them out to us on the streets, you read about them in your books, and you tell us all about the noises they make. You spend your days vroom-ing them around the living room, pulling out Thomas trains for daddy to play with you, getting angry and frustrated when you inadvertently mess up the track or have trouble pushing your trains.

Buddy, two-years-old is all about the frustration and the fury, because you so badly want to be able to do all these things that you just can’t quite do. You think you’re much more grown up than you are, and we have to remind you that it’s ok to mess things up, big kids and grown-ups a-like mess things up all the time! Sometimes we just have to say, “Train time is over for now”, and pull you away, when exclamations of “Oh no! Oh no!” turns into throwing and kicking and screaming and attacking the dog even though it’s really not her fault that Toby flew off the track when he went down the hill.

There’s just so much going on in that little blonde head of yours, I often find myself thinking about what you might be thinking, your tiny awesome brain is fascinating to your mama, kiddo. All of a sudden, it seems, you know your ABC’s and can count to ten and beyond. When did that happen? I don’t know, it just did, and no doubt about it you make your mother and father beam with pride over these new skills.

Of course we think you are just the smartest, funniest, kindest little two-year-old there is. We realize, there are a lot of really fantastic two-year-olds out there, but you’re definitely our favorite. Without a doubt, you are rough-and-tumble, you have one speed and it is very fast, you love to jump on the bed singing “Train is coming! Train is coming! Train is coming, to our town!” and sometimes at bedtime it is very difficult to calm you down. We know we’re in for it when after your bath you take to racing around your bedroom in circles, or doing little toddler killers, sprinting from one end of the house to the other. Wow. Those nights we make sure to read lots of very calming bedtime stories, we lay in bed all four of us (yes your doggy too) drinking milk and saying goodnight to the moon and stars, and noises everywhere.

So yes, rough-and-tumble, but there is also so much sweetness in you. You have such a tender heart. Almost as often as you attack her and pull her tail, you give your doggy as many kisses and snuggles, and you go crazy asking us to get down her bag of treats. You’ve started to say, “Lub you too!” when we tell you we love you, and I almost can’t stand it. Gotta admit, you’re pretty stingy with your kisses for most people, but not with mama. Some days after a long day of being apart, the kisses I get from you are a little overwhelming, the sloppy, open-mouthed, teeth smashing, chubby hands pulling in my cheeks kinds of kisses that you really have to see to believe. Ridiculous and hilarious little make-out sessions that you reserve just for mommy.

Oh my goodness, you have so much love for your grandparents and all your aunts and uncles. The other day on one of my Fridays off, you and I got in the car to run a few errands, and we drove past the place we would normally turn to go get grandma, and you started crying little guy! You pouted and yelled “Gwamma!” as we drove past, clearly confused as to why she wasn’t coming along on whatever adventure we were off to, as she so often does. That was very sweet, and I should tell grandma that story because I think it would make her very happy to know that a trip to Costco is just not the same without her.

I think you have a bit of an infatuation for your uncle James, you talk about him with me a lot, and you seem to just gravitate to him or his exciting bedroom when you are at your Grandma and Grandpa’s house. I don’t really get what it is about him particularly, but there’s probably not much to get. He’s very cool, great hair, funny but super easy going, gives you lots of attention, I guess it makes sense.

Anyway, yesterday was your birthday my sweet Gus. And we had a very quiet, laid-back day, just you, me, and your dad. We had a busy weekend, and had spent Sunday up at the cabin, so your routine was a little messed up. But in a good way. When we were at the lake on Sunday you got very sleepy from all your hard playing, and you ended up taking a very late nap until 7:00 PM, so that meant you were a ball of energy late into the night when we got home. So we snuggled downstairs eating a delicious pear and watching a movie until after 10:00 when you ventured into the basement bathroom and found your birthday present hidden in the shower! Darn it! We almost made it to your birthday, but you are just too curious, and you happened upon our hiding spot for your new wagon! (We’ll find a better spot for Christmas presents I suppose.)

Well, you loved it. You spent the next half hour climbing in and out of it, dragging it around the basement, jabbering away telling us all about how wonderful it is. We’re so glad you like your present buddy.

The next day, on your birthday, while dad made cupcakes and mom made a big batch of soup for dinner, you sat in your wagon and watched cartoons for much longer than should have been allowed. But that’s okay, it was your birthday. After all the cooking and baking was finished we went for a long walk in your new wagon, and picked up a Happy Meal along the way for lunch at the park. Another great birthday indulgence. After the park, we sang Happy Birthday to you, and you blew out the candles on your cupcake, which may have been the most adorable thing I have ever seen, and then we listened to a message from your cousins Marcella, William, and Lucas singing you Happy Birthday. You exclaimed for the rest of the day, “Appy burtday Gus!” and just generally seemed quite pleased with all the celebration.

And the rest of the day was pretty much like any day, ending with a bath and stories and mama snuggling with you until we were both fast asleep. A good day. A good life.

We love you buddy, two is going to be a BIG year for you, because you’re going to have a baby brother! I know it will be an adjustment, but I really think you’re going to love it. So thank you for being our guinea pig these two wonderful years, we don’t always know what we’re doing, but we must be doing something right because you are you, and you are perfect. And we are so lucky to be your parents.

7 Posts

A blog meme!  How very, 2005 of me!

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What this is about:

To unite bloggers (from all sectors) in a joint endeavor to share lessons learned and create a bank of long but not forgotten blog posts that deserve to see the light of day again.

Rules:
1) Blogger is nominated to take part
2) Blogger publishes his/her 7 links on his/her blog – 1 link for each category.
- Your most beautiful post
– Your most popular post
– Your most controversial post
– Your most helpful post
– A post whose success surprised you
– A post you feel didn’t get the attention it deserved
– The post that you are most proud of

3) Blogger nominates up to 5 more bloggers to take part.

4) These bloggers publish their 7 links and nominate another 5 more bloggers

5) And so it goes on!

6) The site Trip Base is sharing the best posts from participating bloggers on their blog and everyday on Facebook and Twitter at #My7Links

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Alright, so Erin tagged me in this meme a few days ago and I felt quite honored, like I’m a real blogger or something.

But then I started to try to do it, and now am cursing Erin’s name (not really), because man, this was not an easy task. I’ve been reading through a lot of my old posts and having quite the trip down memory lane, but really most of what has been documented on this blog is so haphazard and nonsensical, not to mention the fact that my posting has been so sporadic over the course of, like 7 years. I mean, I talked A LOT about TV back in the day, it’s truly amazing to have such tangible evidence of how drastically my life changed when we had a child. Crazy. Like this post that I wrote when I was starting my MBA studies, in which I complain incessantly about how busy I was and how terrible it was that grad school was going to have such a drastic affect on my social life and television-watching habits. HA! Oh lady, you have no idea what’s in store for you in just a few short years! It’s honestly like reading something someone else wrote. Who is that crazy girl? She sure complained a lot about really ridiculous things like… static cling, tampons, her seemingly constant 9-5 funk, and hanging Christmas tree lights. I was just a barrel of joy. Jeez.

So now that I’ve sent you back to a lot of old things I wrote that actually make me cringe, I’ll try to complete this meme. I may have to make some modifications and break the rules a little, because I had a really hard time finding things that fit some of these categories. I clearly am NOT a real blogger, like I let myself believe for a few seconds there.

Most beautiful post

I should probably link to Gus’s birth story here, but I’m not going to. Because while lovely, it’s full of a lot of the gory details that I just can’t classify as “beautiful”.

Instead, I really like this one that I wrote last summer, in which I come across very… zen. It brings back such wonderful memories of our first year with baby Gus, it was a glorious summer, and, my goodness he was a delicious 10-month old. It’s short and sweet, but I love it.

 
Most popular post

At first I thought my method for choosing my “Most popular post” would be to find the one with the most comments from people that I don’t know in real life. So that would be this little ditty with lots of cute pictures of my 1 year old in a snowsuit at the tree farm, for which I received FOUR whole comments from “strangers”. Look at me, I am so popular!

But then I thought I would check my blog stats and see which post has the most page views of all time, and it is this ridiculousness that I wrote last winter, all about my search for the elusive, non-frumpy clog.  Clearly there are others out there like me, constantly on the lookout for sensible mom footwear that does not make you feel like a complete fashion “don’t”.  

A very close second in page views is this doozy in which I wallow about the poor start we got to 2011, via “The Sickness”.  Ahh man, those were some rough months.  But seriously, I wonder what brought so many random people to that specific post, is it because I mention Sister Wives?  Or do people just like to hear about others vomiting all over each other?  Very interesting…

Most controversial post

I am admittedly not very controversial on this here blog, I write what I feel, say what I think, but I am not out there preaching my opinions on things like politics, religion, or parenting. Even though yeah, like most people, I have some strong opinions.

Thus, I’m going to say my most controversial post is about the stealth pooper in my office a few years back. I’m saying this is controversial because I was being kind of snotty and judgy, especially about her white high tops, and I think talking about pooping at your workplace is somewhat uncouth and always going to be a little controversial.

Most helpful post

No idea. Literally none. I am not helpful, and don’t post anything informative for anyone else. I am totally selfish like that.

So instead, I’ll link you to my least interesting, most unhelpful post, in which I ramble about Lost. Yes, the TV show. I told you, I wrote a lot about TV back in the day. Oh those were the days…

A post whose success surprised me


I think this post triggered a lot of good discussion amongst people I’m close to, and I still stand by it. I think every new mother should embrace her instincts and disregard any unwanted piece of advice from other people that just doesn’t sit well with her. You are the mom, OWN IT. You know your kid best, you know your family best, and you need to stand up for what you believe in. And then… be flexible, throw out any preconceived notions about motherhood that you had. Because your former twenty-something self was probably an ass hole. (No offense.)

A post I feel didn’t get the attention it deserved


I don’t know how to judge this at all. Clearly I do not have a popular blog with a plethora of readers that is updated frequently, so this is really just impossible to answer. Plus, back in the early days of blogging I used Haloscan for commenting, which, I have no idea what happened to it, but I swear it was the thing back then. When I got rid of it, I lost all those lovely comments, so it looks like basically I had no one reading back then. But I swear I did. My friends mostly, but still.

Instead, let’s break the rules again, and I will give you this post I wrote about one of the most wonderful people in the whole world. I was missing her like crazy back then because she went and moved to Costa Rica for three years, and she was making a trip back for the holidays and I just couldn’t wait to see her. So, because I love her, and I love that I happened upon this when I was reading through my archives, here is my little ode to Lisa, the best friend a girl could ask for.

The post I am most proud of


Of course I’m talking about my poor sleeper of a son, and the years of sleep deprivation he has already brought us, because really that has been probably the toughest part of parenting so far. But it’s not insurmountable, because he is my child. I brought him here, I am the grown up and he relies on me for safety, stability, love. And I will do everything I can to provide him with those things, just as any parent would.

Edited to add............

Oops!  I forgot to tag people.  I don't think I'm going to actually, because I'm a rule breaker.  If you feel like doing it friends, go for it, I would love to read it! 

Thinking, worrying...

So lots on my mind lately, but the most prominent has to do with work. My career. If you can really call it that.

The future of my company, or my division really, the locally-based part of my company, is not really certain. Right now it’s just rumors, and foreboding “what-if’s”, but it’s highly possible that 9-18 months from now, we might not exist. Or what is currently here might exist on a much smaller scale. Who knows, I’m being vague because that’s what you do when you talk about work on the internet, but also because I have no idea. There have been no official decisions, it’s just water cooler talk at this point, but it’s scary, and I don’t like feeling like my family’s future is so up-in-the-air.

When I came back to work after my maternity leave I was lucky enough to go part-time. Half-way through my leave, after much soul-searching and crying over not being able to leave my baby, I made a proposal to my boss in which I stated that I felt I could come back to work just three days a week and do my same job. To my delight, he and those above him went for it, and my work-life balance ever since has been, well, AWESOME.

There have been bumps in the road, some having to do with finding part-time childcare (so much more complicated!), and some having to do with finding myself having hard-core landed on the mommy-track in the eyes of pretty much everyone here. You can’t really progress in a company as a part-timer, that is clear. There’s no such thing as a part-time manager, so any aspirations for that have been shelved. My “5-year plan” is currently an awkward little one-sentence blurb that basically amounts to staying where I’m at, plugging away, doing my best while doing the same thing I’ve been doing for SEVEN YEARS.

And that’s ok, I expected that to happen when I made the decision to cut back my hours, because in the corporate world, to be considered a top-tier employee, to be thought of as “going somewhere”, you have to at least have the illusion that you are always available, that you will take on extra work, jump when asked to jump, all that. Even if no one is asking for “extra”, it’s just assumed that when you aren’t there every day, you aren’t able to go that extra mile.

The funny thing is, I never worked an hour of overtime before I went-part time, because I didn’t need to. But now? I’ve definitely had my share of those weeks where I’ve had to work from home for a few hours on my day off, or had to go in on a Saturday when Dan could watch Gus in order to meet a deadline. I HATE having to leave early for appointments, or having to call in because the little guy is sick, because I feel like I need to constantly prove that I am available, I am reliable, I am HERE. It’s not as if my dedication to the company or my job has changed because on average I work 10-12 less hours per week than my colleagues. Still. Mommy-track. No way around it. That’s where I am.

I’ve completely gone off on a tangent here. The point is this, if I have to find another job this whole work-life balance thing I’ve got going on will be totally thrown for a loop. Corporations are not looking to hire someone for my position part-time, that’s the kind of thing you do once you’ve been well established within an organization, obviously. No, the part-time options for me are very limited. Starbucks Barista? Bookkeeping? Ha! No. Every part-time job posting I have seen would involve a massive pay-cut, and not only that, I’d be extremely over-qualified and not likely to be hired for that reason alone.

So I’m just sort of at a loss. I don’t want to go back to work full-time. Really really really I do not. Not to mention, I’m pregnant, if you didn’t know. Another wrench thrown in there just for fun. So it’s not like I can really even do anything at this point, I don’t plan on bringing this belly with me on any job interviews. If I did decide to find a new full-time job, then we’d likely be in the position of having to completely change our plans for childcare.

I have started looking into what it would take to become a CPA, so that maybe down the road I could be a part-time consultant for small companies, sort of make my own schedule, be my own boss. It sounds someone appealing, though the whole process, which would include additional schooling (I don’t think it would be much) and lots of studying for this massive test does not sound super fun. And to be certified you have to actually work under the guidance of a CPA for a year after doing all that and passing the test. That could be… complicated.

Anyway, I think for now I just have to hunker down, hope for the best, and realize that I can’t plan for every different possible scenario. Things change, things evolve, and you roll with the punches and figure things out when life throws you for a loop. Right now I have to plan for this new baby, I have to assume I’m going back to work sometime in early April and will need childcare for my two children just three days a week. Yes, that is the future I have to plan for at this point, and all that other stuff may keep me up at night, but there’s really nothing I can do about it right now. Ugh. I hate that.  Need to just let go, and trust that future Alicia will take care of this stuff if she has to. ;)

Tidbits & a Little TMI

I can’t seem to fully empty my bladder. Don’t know what’s going on in there, but baby/uterus/etc. must just be taking up too much room, or my tiny little bell pepper sized baby is situated in a bladder-constricting position, but yeah. I would like to pee like a normal person one of these days, please.

I spent about $50 on a ton of clearance clothes for Gus at the Carter’s store during my lunch hour. I am preeeeeetty sure this little shopping spree was me compensating for the fact that it is DRIVING ME CRAZY that I can’t buy my child in-utero anything gender-specific. I don’t know, not finding out the gender last time was such a no-brainer for us, and I didn’t feel really all that constricted by remaining in the dark throughout the pregnancy. With your first baby, you still have all the other fun stuff to put your nervous energy into, like choosing crib sheets, purchasing a pack-n-play, deciding between the Sleep Sheep or the Twilight Turtle, or even picking out cute little gender-neutral swaddling blankets.

But now?

We have all that stuff, we don’t really need any more baby trinkets, and we certainly don’t need any more blankets. But of course this baby deserves a few of his or her own things, we will want to have a few baby blankets that don’t already have lots of Gus memories attached to them. And of course, there is PLENTY of time for this baby to accumulate STUFF and there’s a whole lifetime to acquire things that will eventually have sentimental meaning. It’s not about the things, the stuff. I realize this. I don’t know, I guess just more than last time I’m itching to give this little one his or her own identity before he or she is on the outside. I am impatient. I want to know who he or she is right now! I want to see his or her face, I want to know what my baby’s cry sounds like, I want to look into his or her eyes, I want to smell that smell of my little one, that smell that you can just taste, it is so delicate and perfect and his or her own, no one else’s. Like my mother and sister-in-law always say, “Who is that in there?!” The frustration with not really needing to buy stuff but feeling like I really really want to is just a symptom of my excitement and wonder over this whole amazing gestating and mothering process. I clearly am in love with this baby already, there is no question of that.

On the other hand, in no way do I want it to be January tomorrow. I want to really soak in the second half of this pregnancy, and I hope that in the coming months, Gus will start to understand that he’s going to be a big brother and that we will be bringing a new baby into our home. And I want right now to be right now. This is life, what’s happening now is where I want to be.









Speaking of getting Gus familiar with bringing a new baby into our home, I bought some books to read with him, of course, since books (and trucks) are pretty much Gus’s whole world. I think I bought four of them, and they were definitely hit or miss. I hate buying children’s books online, it’s so hard to know what you’re getting (thank God for Amazon reviews). It was important to me that the books be (1) a little crunchy (no thank you to lots of pictures of hospitals and bottles and jarred baby food) and (2) not focus too much on the whole sibling jealousy thing, or Gus having to be a “big boy” now that he’ll have a little brother or sister. I don’t know, of course we’ll have to deal with the jealousy thing, I’m not naïve enough to think that this will be a totally smooth transition for him, but I certainly don’t need to put ideas into his head or tell him all the things he shouldn’t do with the new baby, like push or hit, pull hair, feed him or her pennies, that sort of thing. We will cross those bridges when/if we get there. And then the whole “big boy” thing bothers me. He is, of course, constantly growing and learning and becoming more independent, we don’t need to push him. He can do his growing up at his own pace, and he certainly doesn’t need that kind of pressure from a stupid book. There will be no deadline coming from me for how long it is he stays my baby. (Forever kiddo.)

Anyway, this is my favorite book, by far, by Rachel Fuller.

Picture from Amazon

It is wonderful. Sweet, simple, great illustrations. Multiple pictures of mommy breastfeeding baby, and even a picture of baby being worn in an Ergo–like carrier! Perfection. We just need to figure out how we’re going to refer to breastfeeding with Gus, because we certainly didn’t really think that through before reading the book, which in the past month has become part of our bedtime routine. On a few occasions, Dan has ad-libbed something to the affect of, “Baby is drinking milk from mommy’s boob and Gus is eating a sandwich and an apple!” So now sometimes Gus will proudly exclaim when we get to that page, “Baby! Mommy! Milk! BOOB! Apple!” Errrrr… Is boob the appropriate word for him to use? I’m guessing not, but I honestly don’t know what else I would teach him. The idea of Gus saying “breast” makes me break into a giggle fit. I’m doing it right now! Really, how old am I? That is just ridiculous. It is a breast. It’s called breastfeeding. Period. I mean, get over it Alicia.

Finally, I’ll quit rambling and leave you with one more bit of pregnancy TMI. Undergarments. I officially can no longer stand wearing thongs, maybe it’s the warm weather, the pregnancy, I don’t know, but it is just so uncomfortable and sweaty and especially under skirts and dresses, chub-rub inducing. Ugh. Gross, I know. So last night during a trip to target I swung into the ladies unmentionables department and picked out two packages of hard core, yeah you betcha, granny panties. Yes, I purchased undergarments that come in packages of three. And in nude/white/black color assortments, so that means there aren’t even any cute pink polka dots or lace or anything to make them feminine. Just big, huge, suuuuper comfortable but relatively inconspicuous under clothing UNDERWEAR. I will also admit to have bought a size up from what I normally would wear, just because I figured I’m pregnant, and this should guarantee added comfort. However, once home last night, and taking them out of their packages, I became seriously disturbed. Because they are just MASSIVE. They look like something that should be hung on a flag pole. And yeah. I guess that’s all I wanted to say about that. Felt like sharing, I suppose? Maybe I’m hoping someone will reassure me that I’m not alone in loving some big ole granny panties. Because I do. I love them. So comfortable. (What’s it to you 21 year old Alicia? Shut it, go bong a beer or something.)

June 23, 2011 (11 Weeks, 2 days)

This is the last one of my rambly boring first-trimester posts.  Look for my quick updates below!

We heard our baby’s heartbeat last week! Such relief to have some proof that baby is still healthy in there. Obviously that means we finally had my first appointment with the midwife, and I am in love with her all over again. I wish more women would seek out prenatal care from midwives, regardless of whether or not they’re looking to have an unmedicated birth. I am just in awe of their model of care for women and their passion for what they do. We sat with her for more than 40 minutes, just talking. It wasn’t her talking at us, rather a real conversation, driven by our questions, our concerns, our wishes. She is an amazing listener, and she has a knack for understanding what I might be anxious about, reading between the lines, and she cuts right to that. There were a few instances during which I did that thing I do where I get all self-deprecating and make a joke at my own expense in order to mask my insecurity. Anyway, she looked me in the eyes, and said very simply, “You are a good mother, Alicia. Pregnant women have enough to deal with; don’t let yourself get caught up in that mother’s guilt crap. You’re a good mother.” Yeah. She’s amazing.

We have now told most extended family, and a few close friends. I really badly want to just be out with it, but there are a few girlfriends who I haven’t seen in a while, and since we’re doing a ladies weekend in just two short weeks, I’m thinking I should wait so I can tell them in person. Also I still haven’t told my boss and coworkers. The plan is to do that today, but I’ve been saying that for a few days now, and I have backed out each day. Why am I so awkward about this? I would really like to get things out in the open because I am majorly showing (I know! Already at just 11 weeks, it is ridiculous. The only thing keeping me from going full neurotic pregnant lady is that there hasn’t really been any corresponding weight gain.) So I’m thinking at this point people either suspect, or they think I have really started to go crazy with the cheeseburgers. Or maybe I’m paranoid and no one really pays attention to what I look like or how I dress? Who knows. Whatever. Point is, I want to tell them today. There’s about a 50-50 chance I’ll actually follow through. 

I finally told my boss that day, after I instant messaged my coworker asking if she wanted to be let in on a little secret.  She immediately guessed my news, and ran down to my office and insisted that I go tell my boss that very moment and stop being such an idiot.  WHY AM I SO AWKWARD?!

I am really tired this week. More than usual. Gus has even been sleeping uncharacteristically well lately, so it’s strange. I’m finally getting more sleep, but I feel like even more of a zombie. Nice timing baby!

I am leaning towards wanting to find out the sex of the baby this time, but Dan is adamantly against it. Being pregnant the second time is just different, I feel like doing the practical thing. The surprise was awesome with Gus, but I guess I keep thinking about how like life is about to get much more insane and little tasks that seem difficult now with just Gus, will feel impossible with Gus plus newborn. If we’re having a girl, I want to be able to go shopping for adorable little girlie clothes while I still only have one child to haul through the mall! If we’re having another little boy, I want to get all of Gus’s old clothes washed and ready and organized! Gosh, I don’t know. But I do know that this is a decision that Dan and I need to make together, and if we can’t agree, then I will respect his right to not find out. So I guess that means I have about 8 and 1/2 weeks to make my case!

Pretty sure we will not be finding out the sex.  I don't want to force Dan into something he doesn't want to do, and now I am even questioning if it really matters.  I made my appointment today for our ultrasound a month from now, so there's a 5% chance we'll actually both change our minds before that, but it's unlikely. 

Also today, I got to do an early screening (at 16 weeks) for gestational diabetes, which is something I guess they force on ladies these days who have had big babies.  So really, that means they think I could have been borderline GD with Gus, since he was so massive (9 lb, 11 oz.). 

I do not like this test.  Chugging that nasty orange drink on an empty stomach.  Sitting in the waiting room of the clinic for two hours.  Having my blood drawn three separate times, the final time being super painful as she jabs around with the needle in my poor abused vein only to have to eventually give up and hit up the other arm for the good stuff. 

No I do not like this test one bit. 

And I do not like the implication that I may have had gestational diabetes just because I had a big baby.  Lots of people have big babies, and the whole thing just makes me feel super insecure.  Also, pretty sure that I'm going to have to do the standard screening at 28 weeks as well, provided this all comes out fine.  Ugh.  Cross your fingers that everything comes back fine. 

June 8, 2011 (Jinxed Myself)

Another quick oldie...

I am such an idiot. The morning after writing all about how mild my first trimester symptoms have been with this pregnancy, I find myself running to the toilet for a lovely little vomit fest.

Doing the puke thing this time around is distinctly different, because for some reason, I really don’t want Gus to see me do it. I just really don’t want him to be scared, to see his mommy feeling so terrible, and so, while back in the day I might have lay on the bathroom floor for ten minutes after such a session, feeling sorry for myself, this morning I had to rally. My little toddler was at the top of the stairs yelling “Mommy!?”

And sure enough, he had a massive poopy diaper that needed to be changed.

Yup, things will definitely be different this time.

So I will no longer be talking about the morning sickness stuff, I’ve learned my lesson.

June 7, 2011 (9 Weeks)

Look for my little updates throughout the post below, because without realizing it, we've actually accomplished quite a bit in the last 6 weeks!

I just can’t imagine writing here and not talking about the baby, so I guess I’m going to keep on writing without actually posting until after I have finally seen my midwife (next week!) and heard those lovely little “thump thump” sounds of a healthy heartbeat.

So it seems this baby is going to be a little gentler with me during the first trimester than his or her older brother was two and a half years ago. A very lovely surprise, I had really prepared myself for the worst! I’m 9 weeks today, and yeah, there’s been some reflux , exhaustion, and tinges of nausea (usually when I’m hungry), but I am just so thankful that most of my symptoms have been really mild.  (Does this mean I'm having a girl?!)

What I really was afraid of was a wasted summer in which I neglected my little rambunctious toddler and was forced to choose the couch over the park, or television over the backyard for that matter. I saw myself wallowing in my own misery instead of living in the present, enjoying life with a delightful and thriving little boy who is currently talking up a storm and demanding hilarious dance parties multiple times a day.  (Dance parties these days are usually only initiated when he's hit a manic tired stage because we've kept him up past bedtime.  Manic tired Gus is pretty freaking hilarious.)

When I first wrote after finding out I was pregnant, I was clearly a little freaked. Good freaked, but yeah, freaked none-the-less. The sleep issues we’ve had with Gus just remain a dark cloud on my mind, and I was initially terrified and frankly overwhelmed with the progress that would HAVE to be made before the baby was born, just in order to survive.

It just seemed so daunting, as big changes always do, but what I have been able to remind myself of is that everything is so gradual. Gus will do so much growing up before next January. So much. When I think of how much he’s changed just in the last six months, how much better he’s sleeping included, it’s monumental. But it happened slowly, and didn’t feel monumental as we were living it.

Weaning is something that immediately became a big bold TO DO item as soon as I saw that second line, and it is so entwined with all the sleep stuff, of course, so yeah, just… so daunting. Also, though I never wanted to push it on him, I have come to the realization that it might not ever happen if I don’t push a little bit.

Good news is that it’s been not even a month and I already feel like we’ve made significant strides. I’ve stepped up my game with the “don’t offer, don’t refuse” strategy, and Gus has been completely fine with things. We were still basically nursing at nap time, bedtime, night-wakings, and in the morning, it all was such a routine that I realized I was just doing it out of habit, whether or not he really “asked” for it.

Well I haven’t nursed him at nap time for an entire week, and he has gone down just fine and has been consistently taking 3 hour naps when he’s at home. Victory! The past few nights have gone fine with just a bottle, when before we were doing a little of both. (Yeah, I’m admitting it; he still takes a bottle at night and usually before his nap. Judge if you’d like, but we pick our battles, and this one just seems so, well, low on the list of things that actually matter in raising a child, so we have simply chosen not to get ourselves riled up about it.)

I find that setbacks in the weaning process usually have to do with me and my laziness. He was up at 6:00 AM yesterday, and so even though I hadn’t nursed him all night long, which is a pretty huge feat, I was so tired that I grabbed him from his crib and brought him to bed with me for a lazy morning nursing session, simply to give me another 20 minutes of rest. I did this without even thinking, it was like my brain was on auto-set.

Ah well, setbacks are inevitable, and overall I feel like I can actually see a future not too far out where I am not nursing my toddler. So yeah, I’m feeling much more zen about the situation now, and am blaming my little helpless baby less and less for it, because really. I am READY TO BE DONE nursing Gus. Really I am. This time was coming, whether I had a baby in my uterus or not.

A little update on the weaning thing, yeah, I think we are officially DONE.  It's been many many weeks since we've nursed, actually, can't even remember the last time.  Oh, that's sort of sad isn't it?  Ahh well, not really, that just means it was time.  So glad and lucky we had such a great breastfeeding relationship for so long, and so thankful that it ended slowly, quietly, painlessly, just like I always hoped.  (Boosh.  Told you so Dan.) 

Also on the "big changes are coming to this household" front, we have started setting a plan for our family of four living situation. I know the baby will probably be in our bedroom for a while at the beginning, so it’s not completely necessary, but the idea of him or her not having their own space, for their little baby things, their clothes and toys, and a crib all ready to go when we decide the time is right for that… well I’ve realized that not getting all those logistics figured out before the baby is born just is not an option for me. I thought I could be laid back about it, but I really can’t. Mostly because I’m guessing that I’ll have even less time for big projects like that when I have to take care of both a baby and a 2 ½ year old.

So a tentative plan is at least set. The nursery will pretty much stay the same, one of the benefits of decorating it gender-neutral. We’ll get rid of the stupid toddler bed that’s set up in there (failed experiment), shift furniture back around, take the changing table back out of the closet, throw Gus’s hand-me-down drop-side crib out with the trash, and purchase a new one that isn’t a death trap.

New baby will take up residence there, and Gus will be moving on to bigger and better things across the hall: his big-boy bedroom, a.k.a. our current bedroom! I found some beautiful Danish modern furniture at an estate sale this weekend, an entire bedroom set for $180 that looks like it came straight out of the Dania catalog. Pretty pumped about this furniture, despite the fact that we have a garage/house full of unwanted furniture for which that we need to find homes. I think this new (to us) stuff will be perfect for Gus’s room, and I’m excited to put my energy towards creating a great space for him there. The nursery was my nesting project during pregnancy #1, and a little boy’s room will be my nesting project during pregnancy #2. This time around will be a little different, and mostly I’m excited to actually get to design a room based on a little person’s personality, his likes and dislikes, not just for some imaginary baby/child that I don’t really know yet.

This past weekend we actually made hard-core progress here!  My dad came over and in 100+ degree heat indexes, he and Dan shuffled around furniture for two hours.  This little project involved taking our mattress and box spring out through the roof access because they don't fit down the stairs.  And moving a huge bulky desk outside to the garage that we literally just moved downstairs a year ago.  And moving Gus's new dressers from the garage to his new bedroom on the second floor, and my dresser from the second floor to its new home in the first floor bedroom, and Dan's dresser from the second floor to the basement bedroom.  Good Lord.  My dad definitely didn't know what he was getting himself into when I casually asked if he'd come over and help Dan move around some furniture. 

So each piece of furniture is in its respective new home and we are one step closer to Gus's big move across the hall.  Dan and I are in the first floor bedroom now, and while I don't love trudging up the stairs in the middle of the night when the little guy wakes up, it's not that big of a deal.  It's actually quite lovely to pee without having to tiptoe past his room. 

We bought a new bed frame from IKEA that is low to the ground and more baby-friendly (going to try to avoid having new baby fall out of our bed in the middle of the night, OMG that was traumatizing).  So we are no longer sleeping on just our mattress on the floor, all co-ed like.  By purchasing the bed from IKEA though, we were able to hold on to our twenty-something roots a little longer.  ;)

Moving to his big-boy bedroom will involve transitioning Gus from his crib into a bed, i.e. a full size mattress on the floor. There’s no pressure there, but I would think it will have to happen before the baby is born. A few weeks ago he started climbing out of pack and plays, but he still hasn’t attempted the crib. I worry it’s only a matter of time though, ugh. Inevitable, I suppose. But again, no pressure, when we move him into our bedroom, we might even set up both the bed and his crib, make it a slower, smoother transition, so it’s not all, No More Crib! New Bedroom! New Baby Brother or Sister! All. At. The. Same. Time.

Can't wait for this transition.  YAY.

The piece of this plan I’m not super happy about is that Dan and I will be moving our bedroom to the main level of the house. A whole level away from my babies! The idea of it makes me a bit sick to my stomach, but I’m sure we’ll manage, others out there do. We will be getting a video monitor though, this time around, we’ve both decided that they offer a convenience and peace of mind that are most definitely worth the price tag. Funny that some things that seemed so extravagant or ridiculously unnecessary the first time around now seem like no-brainers, and some things we blindly put on our registry (like a bumbo, multiple boppy covers, tiny receiving blankets, bottle warmer [ok this one is so dumb, and not just because I planned to and did exclusively breastfeed]) were found to be just, well a huge waste of other people’s money.

Gotta say, it is nice to have a somewhat “seasoned” perspective going into baby number two. I’m hoping that it will help me avoid getting all riled up about things that don’t matter.

Nah. I’m sure I’ll find plenty to get riled up about this time around. That is my way after all.