Christmas Eve, cont.

What a crazy beautiful mess we've made!

Christmas Eve was basically just like any other day. Fight about breakfast. Fight through playtime and craft time (which consisted of painting a little plaster sea lion for Tater Tot to give the lady in the nursery who takes care of her during church. "Wiz.") Then fight though lunch and nap time (by GOD we all need a nap!). Then we all woke up and I was disappointed to see a bright sunny afternoon, barely a nip in the air, and nary a snowflake to be seen.


Spud made dinner - Cranberry Pot Roast, yum - and then we got ready for church. Spud, of course, did not join us. He only goes to church for special events, ie. weddings, baptisms, and funerals. One of those events (the girls' baptisms) was recently so he opted to stay home while we went with a family friend, Uncle Pot.


By the way boys, thanks for getting the babies dressed, but pantyhose go UNDER the little ruffly panties but OVER the diaper! Thanks...

Just as we were leaving the house, we saw it. SNOW! I usually hate snow, but it was kind of magical. Christmas Eve, full bellies, candlelights, Christmas songs, baby Jesus.... it was a beautiful night.

When we got out of church, a nice thick layer of snow covered the earth. We drove home, confident that all of my years up north has prepared me for such a light "dusting" of snow, and then came home to find Spud had picked up the house and was waiting for us to open just one present tonight.


We opened the recordable book read by Grammy and Grampy Spud (which was not as magical of an experience as it could have been thanks to someone's temper tantrums) and then sent Tater Tot up to bed. She was one tired little girl!

We're working on the bottle thing... leave me alone...

The cookies and carrot were out for Santa and his reindeer.


The presents were under the tree. The babies were fed and sleeping. White Christmas on the tv.

A wonderful night.

Christmas Eve

Merry Christmas from the Spudly's!
Love,
Spud, Tater Tot, Small Fry, & Mama Spud

Just in case you think we're always happy and perfect and smiling....

We want to go to bed!

23 months (Tot), 3.5 months (Fry)

I'm a bad mom...

Ho ho ho!! (Who you callin' a ho??)

Ok, so I'm the worst mom in the world. We went to an 80's birthday party at the Parsnips house and we dressed up. Even Tater Tot. And Spuddy put eyeshadow and lipstick on her. My baby! In makeup! Acckk!! But she was freakin' adorable.



Reason number 2 why I'm the worst mom in the world. She split her lip. It was late and I was about to give her a bath, but she said she wanted a snack. Ok, snack, then bath, then bed. Right? Wrong. I put her on a chair behind me, went to fix her snack, then she fell off the chair and straight onto her face on the floor. I think she bit her lip with those sharp little rabbit teeth and, in reality, it wasn't that bad. But blood on the lip mixes with saliva and then - boom! Blood dripping out of the mouth! All over the place! ACK! Nothing some chocolate, Mommy kisses, and some Dora on Netflix streaming on iPhone can't fix.

Reason number 3 why I'm the worst mom in the world. Tori.

Namely, Victoria Justice on the show Victorius on Nickelodeon. She's obsessed with the songs and the shows. Oh, and iCarly.

"Mommy, Sammee? Gibbee? Tor-wi? Dance?"

Ugh. Shows for teenagers without any educational content whatsoever. I'm not so upset about Elmo because he teaches her about things like noses and the weather. What do those show teach? How to rub her belly and kiss boys. Greeeaaattt....


Reason number 4 why I'm a bad mom... Potty training.

Yeah right. We're trying. Sort of. Most of the time I say, "Just go in your pants, I can't help you right now." And then, the other night, she was trying to tell me she was having a bad poop (the extraction kind...ew...) and I was busy partying, so I said, "Go tell Daddy to change your diaper."

Poor Spud had to handle it on his own. And she DID poo on the potty... but it was under duress. I don't think it's good to have such a negative experience to help her progress. Oh poor baby...


Reason number 5 why I'm a bad mom... My insistence for the perfect picture.

Sorry Santa. Hope you get your eardrums back.





But it's not all bad.... sometimes there's some really sweet times...


Reason number one why I'm an awesome mom.... I taught my 23 month old to sew.

And that... was one of the best moments of mommyhood. I love that sweet little girl. I can't wait to see what kind of woman she will become. Hopefully, I little like me <3

Tot - 1 year, 10 months, Fry - 2.5 months

Quiet Morning

The Tater Tot had a rough night last night. I know she's at the verge of potty training and really I should do more about it, but I really don't have enough hands to help her. I can't just drop what I'm doing/cleaning/changing/nursing/burping, etc., to run and help her on the potty. But she's becoming visibly upset when she pees in her diaper. And on more than one occasion, I've had to say to her, "You need to pee? Ok, pee in your diaper, Mommy's feeding Sissy and can't get up right now."
Horrible mommy. Really. Just awful.

I should just install a potty in every room of the house and just let her run around pants-less so she can just take care of it herself. She'll get it. Eventually. If not, we just bought a new rug scrubber.

Ohmygodthatthingisamazing!

And Spud is pretty amazing too for cleaning the living room/entryway. The amount of juice spills on that carpet was rid-iculous! Ugh!

Moving on...

Anyways, I'm up early, before everyone else again. I fed Small Fry at 6:30am and of course, once she's done, I'm too awake to go back to sleep because I know I'm just going to have to get up soon. So I grabbed a shower, and that was pretty drama free and not too time consuming, so I decided to *pamper* myself and put on some lotion. I rarely get a chance to lotion my (hopefully) shrinking tummy with special skin firming lotion (that must only work on the skinny people on the label), so I was feeling a little empowered.

What else can I pamper myself with? Is that a forgotten pore strip at the bottom of my makeup box?

(Yes, I have a box. Don't judge.)

I have clean pores. And painted toe nails. And exquisite eyeliner. I may have gone a little overboard for cleaning day that entails me wearing sweatpants (cut-off, no less).

But no one was sucking/climbing/hitting/peeing/pooping/ (or otherwise draining the life out of me) on my body, so I felt the need for a little pampering. Tater Tot is sleeping in due to her stressful peeing in the middle of the night (Sorry Mommy couldn't get here faster because Sissy was eating and Daddy was sleeping on the couch again. No no, honey, sweetie, don't worry! We're not getting a divorce... yet. Daddy just likes to snore and didn't want to wake (anger) Mommy. )

And Spud and Small Fry are snuggling in the bed. I hope he doesn't suffocate her in his sleep. Again. He has a bad habit of that.


So it's me and the cats and my coffee. Chilling at the dining room table. Waiting for the house to wake up. And I'm ok with being up early, for once.





Tater Tot's Vocabulary - 22 Months
Big
Carrot
Mimo
Rainbow
Bridge
Up
Sissy
Belly
Toes
Nose
Eyes
Eat
Bird
Ears
Bite
Hit
Pee
Poo
Buttcrack
Butt
Nice
Hair
Shirt
Fork
Bib
Cheese
Down
Mama/Mommy
Dada/Daddy
Booster
Seat
Itsy
Juice
Lulu (Lucas)
Pants
Drink
Fix
Alexa
Shoes
Light
Apple
Paci (Sissy Paci/Baba)
Boots
Bucket
Pat
Uncle
Aunt
Treat
Blanket
Snack
Fish
Messy
Hat
Silly
Chair
Sit
Me
No
Mm-hmm
Book
Toys
Outside
Neck(lace)
Leg
Boo-boo
Armpit
Arm
Elbow
Shake
Turn
Paint
Duck
Soap
Towel
Bath
Brush (Hair/Teeth)
More
Dias (10)
Nueve (9)
Ocho (8)
Ses (6)
Cinqo (5)
Quatro (4)
Dos (2)
Six
Seven
Eight
Nine
Blue
Head
Diaper
Change
Horse
Poof-poof
Hands
Pyramid
Neck
Dress
Wet
Push
Pull
Sammy
Gibby
Paper
House
Church
Josh
Dede
Destiny
Book
Brooke
Scout
Battery
Race
Remote
Tights
Bug
Elmo
Abby
Oscar
Octopus
Isa
Tico
Diego
Alicia
Whoa-whoa (Dog)
Turtle
Truck
Pink
Purple
Cat
Stick
Fish
Bird
Purse
Shoes
Socks
Jacket
Office
Backpack
Map
Hot dog
Nom-noms (food)
Box

And I'm sure there's plenty more! 50% have developed over the last few weeks, I'd say.

144 words!



Small Fry's achievements:
Um... she coos. She manages to poop through an outfit at least once a day. She loves the fan and the sound of the dryer. She hates the car. Sissa's voice pierces through her soul. She smiles at Daddy. She quiets with Mommy. It's getting better... :-)

Tot - 22 Months, Fry - 12 Weeks

I'd rather have no help than bad help.


First, watch this video of a 3 year old being patted down by TSA and violently throwing a fit in her mother's arms.


The cameraman? The father of the 3 year old girl. I bet you any money that after he was recording for 17 seconds, the wife got frustrated with him standing there, holding his cell phone in the air, and said, (through gritted teeth) "So help me, if you don't get over here and help me with this screaming child in the middle of the airport, I will take that cell phone and beat you with it!"

The point is not about TSA and the new regulations (although, yeah... it's a concern). Today's post is about actively participating in parenting. Helping, instead of standing by. Anticipating the needs of someone frazzled and worn thin. Pretending you know what the hell you're doing, even when you don't.

Unfortunately, this is a common argument in this household.

The division of work is heavy on both sides and weighs both of us down to a breaking point by the end of the day. There don't seem to be many solutions other than to cry, yell, and run when you can.

Kidding.

Hopefully soon the babies will even out a little bit and one won't need me quite so much all the time (seriously. Nursing every five minutes. No joke.)

Until then, we'll try to help each other and not let it build up so much! But if I was that mother in the video, I would have lost it right around the time that a-hole pulled out his phone instead of offering his hand.

Tot- 22 Months, Fry - 11 weeks

I just tried to capitalize the number two. That's right. A 2.

My mind is completely gone. Last night I completely lost it over a post on notalwaysright.com and started laughing hysterically until I was crying. I tried to find the post again to post it, but I can't find it right now. I'll summarize. The website is about stupid customers that are "not always right."

Customer asks for help with a cougar problem to a worker at a sporting goods store.

"You should get some bear spray to help detract cougars." - Employee
"Nah, that'll just piss them off. What are those?" - Customer
"Those are machetes, sir." - Employee
"Yeah! That's what we need! Machetes! We'll fight the cougars off with machetes. Forget the bear spray, that'll just piss them off."




HAHAAAAAAA! I laughed so hard, I had tears running down my face, black streaks of mascara on my cheeks, a jiggling baby in my arms, and a completely confused husband. I've lost it. I remember being at this point with Tater Tot. We were sleep deprived nutballs around this time and got really REALLY goofy.


Ok...haha... whew... sigh... breathe, ok. Back to what I was really going to write about. Our day. Life with two under two.

4:45am Wake up with Fry. Nurse. Fall asleep together.

6:45am Wake up with Fry. Nurse. Gently pat her back to sleep with Spud.

7:20am Mommy time! Make coffee, take a bath.

7:40am Wake Spud and he gets ready for work. Do makeup, get dressed.

8:00am Wake Fry and change diaper, outfit.

8:15am Wake Tot. Change, speak to Elmo, get dressed, play, threaten with bodily harm unless she comes with me downstairs for breakfast.

9:00am Sesame Street for Tot in highchair with breakfast. Mama and Fry nurse again.

9:45am AIS. Ass In Seat. Everybody's ass has to be in a seat in the car by this time.

10am Storytime with friends! Sing dance. Holy crap do NOT get lost in the library again! They will not feed you if I leave you here over night.

11am Leave storytime. Are you kidding me? Get in your seat. Mommy is very upset with you. Diaper changes.

11:05am Arrive home with a screaming infant and a running toddler. Nurse. Dora. Goldfish crackers. Peace.

11:06am Juice spills.

11:07am DO NOT HIT SISSY!

12pm Lunch! Sometimes, while still feeding Small Fry. That's a talent.

12:30pm Clean up lunch. Cuddle on couch. Pick up-PICK UP YOUR JUICE! Make a bottle and set it on the stairs, ready for naptime. Clean up toys. Put away. Clean up toys again.

1pm NAPTIME! All is right with the world. Change diapers and put babies to bed. Load dishwasher. Finish laundry. Cuddle up with baby and rest.

1:30pm Nurse. Nurse. Nurse some more. Computer time. Paperwork. All in bed with baby.

2:30pm Cant. Keep. My. Eyes. Open......zzzzzz

4:00pm Fry and I wake up and nurse. Sometime between now and when Daddy comes home, Tot wakes up and starts babbling in her crib. Sometimes she asks for Josh. Or talks to Elmo.

4:30pm Spud officially off work. He gets Tot while Fry and I finish nursing. Change diapers. Up. Awake. Snacks. Juice.

5:00pm Dinner preparations. Either Spud or Mama make dinner - most often Spud.

6:00pm Dinner. PICK UP YOUR JUICE!

6:10pm Time out chair. Crying ensues. Sissy gets upset and needs to nurse again.

6:45pm Clean up. Cuddle time. Play time. Put away laundry. Load dishwasher.

7:30pm BATHTIME! (Paint? Duck? Yes Tot, you can paint the rubber duckie with watercolors while we bathe you. Sure) Daddy's in charge of bath time. I love it. I go get a bottle ready, pick out pj's, assemble her bed (because Spud forgets and leaves a mess after naptime), and cleans the upstairs.

7:45pm Nighttime diaper. Lotion. Vicks. Brush hair. Pajamas. Brush teeth. Medicine. Storybook. Hugs and kisses for Mommy, Daddy, and Sissy.

8pm Lights out for Tot. Bathtime for Fry. Mommy/baby warm bath together.

8:30pm Pjs for the little pee pee.

9pm Nurse.

11pm Nurse. Drift off to sleep.

12am I finally get to sleep. Maybe.

Tot - 21 Months, Fry - 8 Weeks

Oh. My. God.

I am finally taking some time to rest. What a nightmare the past couple weeks have been. Everything was fine until Small Fry was just shy of 4 weeks old. I've stopped and started a blog post about this many times but finally deleted it and started over.

At 27 days old, Small Fry was admitted to the hospital with a fever. We later learned it was viral meningitis. Bacterial is the scary one, not viral. But still scary with a newborn! Four days in the hospital, four days of bills, four days of rectal temperatures every 4 hours, feedings, burpings, Tylenol, antibiotics, swelling, IV's, hospital food, inadequate breastfeeding, pumping, nurses, interruptions, crying, screaming, pinpricks on the heels, heparin, and... a spinal tap.

(I try not to use foul language but...)

Holy fucking crap, they gave my child a mother fucking spinal tap in the emergency room.

And they didn't test it for viral meningitis. They let it go for days and her temperature went up, and down, higher and higher, until it finally peaked at 102.5 on the day the doctor wanted to send her home.

First of all, her pediatrician was an idiot.

Notice I said "was."

He swore at me, told me that it was my fault we were in all this "shit," and that it would be my fault if she got MRSA. Also, he said that the on call nurse might as well have been a janitor with a telephone and a piece of paper.

We changed doctors.




Anyways, all that is in the past now and Small Fry is going on 8 weeks old now! She's a crying mess, eats all the time, and will only sleep with me... but God, I love her little face.

Tater Tot... my bubby. My baby. My first little girl. My little spitfire. The first real love of my life..... Is driving me absolutely crazy. I cannot believe how bad that little ankle-biter is. I could seriously crush her little....

ARRGHHH!!!

No, really, I love her. I do.

She's adjusting to big sisterhood. I get it. But... g**damnit TT - we are not. effing. watching. Boots.

Boots is a monkey. I hate him everyday.




I'm still working on some issues...

20.5 months, 4 weeks

(These are pictures from Delaney's hospital stay in a recovered draft I found on Blogger-Land. I'm not going to add captions, but you can figure it out that Jeff has a glove on his head yourself...)

20 months, 3 weeks

(This is a recovered draft that I found in Blogger-Land. It's not finished, but enjoy!)


Small Fry's due date was Thursday. September 23rd. I can't imagine not having her in my life, and I certainly cannot imagine having to wait 3 more weeks for her to come into the world. This seems like the slowest 3 weeks ever - couldn't fathom still being pregnant with her!

People ask me if I thought the doctor's messed up my due date and I honestly don't think so. The month before I found out I was pregnant, I took a pregnancy test. December 16th. It was negative. The next day, I got my period. On December 22nd, I had minor surgery for a cyst on my ovary. They did a blood test this time to make sure I wasn't pregnant before they cut into me. It came back negative, I went through with the surgery, my fertility was restored and I conceived sometime after New Years Day. January 20th, we found out we were expecting again, 5 weeks into the pregnancy.

My doctor was pretty sure that I wasn't going to get pregnant with the cyst on my ovary and with the other tests, I'm positive I wasn't. But at 37 weeks, I delivered at healthy 7lb, 5oz baby girl who, I believe, would have grown to 9lbs+ if she had stayed in until 40 weeks! No thank you!

I'm glad I delivered when I did. I'm glad she was healthy. I'm glad our bags were packed and Tater Tot was staying with our good (flexible) friends who took her in for just 3 hours at first, then over night, then one night more! I'm grateful my doctor broke my water in the bed instead of it happening while I was at work or in the car. I carried around a dark towel and wore dark pants, just in case.

19.5 months, 37 weeks

The Road to Baby!

Mama Spud It's a good thing I did the bills today and some shopping. DON'T freak out - but we're going to the hospital soon to check on these contractions every 2-3 minutes. This may not happen tonight...

August 30 at 9:01pm via Facebook for iPhone

At 5:30pm on Monday night, I hurriedly finished my dinner and headed to work with a full tummy and a bottle of antacids. I wasn't really in the mood to work but it was a short, 3 hour shift, and I thought I could handle it. I started my shift at 6pm, cleaned up my counter a bit, talked to some friends, and helped a few customers.

Then I got a contraction.

No big deal, right? It happens. Braxton Hicks, probably.

As I'm talking to the head of loss prevention (a familiar face in the Fine Jewelry department, for obvious reasons of course) I have 4 more contractions and he doesn't notice. At one point, I stop talking and lean my head against the wall. They're not painful, but definitely uncomfortable. I go to the bathroom and try to walk around a little bit, but they keep coming every 3 minutes. I tell my co-worker, who tells my manager, who tells the security guy and soon a small crowd of people are around my counter watching and timing my contractions. Every 3 minutes. Every 2 1/2. Then, every 2 minutes.

After an hour, I am sent home by my manager and another co-worker follows me home. Even though it's only a ten minute drive, I think everyone is convinced I'm going to pop this baby out in seconds. If they only knew how long it really takes!

I try to relax and bathe at home until, after 5 hours, we finally go to the hospital. By the time we get there, they've been continuous for 6 hours. I am hooked up to a monitor for an hour and then sent home with the reassurance that I would be back soon, in more active labor, ready to have this baby.

Mama Spud Leaving the hospital after only an hour. She's coming soon, but not soon enough. Being sent home to "rest" between contractions... Argh...

Tuesday at 2:09am via Facebook for iPhone

We arrive back home at 3am. I fall asleep before my head hits the pillow, thinking to myself, "I'll wake up if the contractions get too strong."

Mama Spud ‎8am. No baby. At home. Surprisingly I slept a little. We'll see what today brings... Thank you for your thoughts and prayers guys!

Tuesday at 8:04am via Facebook for iPhone

Wake up, get the Tot ready, diaper, backpack, breakfast, pack a lunch, pack a change of clothes, where's the baby doll?, find the baby doll, shoes on, shoes off, shoes on NOW!, carseat wrestle, "I am only one Mommy!" (And I am too tired for this shit!)

Mama Spud ‎12pm. Feeling crappy. Contractions are uncomfortable - to say the least. Tater Tot is at preschool allowing me some quiet time. Sleepy but uncomfortable...

Tuesday at 12:03pm via Facebook for iPhone

Pick up Tater Tot from pre-school and try to nap again while she takes her afternoon nap. Feeling some contractions, but nothing regular. Getting frustrated because I thought I'd be in active labor already, if not already having a baby.

Mama Spud ‎9:30pm - Nothing. Nada. Just painful contractions without rhyme or reason, overall irritability, and the feeling that I'm about to drop a watermelon any minute now. Doctors appointment tomorrow afternoon.

Tuesday at 9:36pm via Facebook for iPhone

Go to bed, tired and irritated. Cranky and contracting (slowly) all night long. Hoping to get things going, I drop Tot off at pre-school and go straight to the mall to walk for two hours. I make sure to stay hydrated so I won't be told I'm contracting because of dehydration. When I pick up Tater Tot from pre-school, I take her straight to our friends (the Parsnips) house and lay her down for a nap. I pick up Spud and we head to the town across the river for my 3:30pm doctor's appointment.

It's good news! All that contracting is finally paying off!

Mama Spud ‎37 week checkup. 4:30pm. 3cm. Contractions 2-5 minutes apart. Going downstairs for observation. Might be tonight - might not

Wednesday at 4:41pm via Facebook for iPhone

It is tonight.

I am admitted to triage and they monitor me for an hour. My contractions are progressing and I'm already 3cm dilated. The wonderfully kooky Nurse Heather has me walk for 15 minutes around the Women's Hospital - up and down hallways, in and out of lobbies - until it's time to be checked again. The nurse says she thinks I'm still 3cm. My doctor comes down from her office upstairs and checks me again. Close to 4 cm.

Three cervical checks in two hours aren't very fun.... It's going to get worse.

Mama Spud ‎6:45pm My water broke. 7:00pm moved to my LDRP room.

Wednesday at 7:12pm via Facebook for iPhone

That's it kids! We're having a baby tonight! Now, to be honest, my doctor broke my water. Yes, it was an augmented labor, but it was an augmentation that I was willing to do. I was 4cm and ready to get this birth underway. I'm 37 weeks - 3 weeks from my "estimated" due date, but after a week of contractions and being miserable, I'm ready. They hook me up to an IV and hydrate me for a little bit until I move to my Labor/Delivery/Recovery/Post-Partum Room. I have a great nurse named Melissa who takes all of my fears and requests into consideration and tries her hardest to make this a better birth than last time.

She unhooks me from the IV (and I'm never hooked up to it again, thank God! The Hep lock is still in, though) and we walk. And walk. And walk.

Mama Spud ‎9pm. Bouncing on the birth ball. Blogging through labor!! Whoo hoo! Thanks for the love guys!

Wednesday at 9:01pm

Mama Spud

Wednesday at 9:03pm

Calling my mom to keep her updated. She's dying in North Carolina, wishing she could be with me. I think it's great that I'm blogging and Facebooking and talking on the phone all through labor until the transition period.

Mama Spud

10:15pm Just walked a few laps around the hospital. Contractions getting stronger and longer. Resting in my room to recharge for a second. UPDATE: JEFF FOUND THE GOLDEN GIRLS ON TV!!!!

Wednesday at 10:20pm via Facebook for iPhone

We're still joking, laughing, walking, bouncing, leaning and swaying. Somewhere during this time, I reach 6 cm - thank God!

Mama Spud

‎12:30am. Just got out of the shower. Feeling a little better and refreshed. Come on baby! September 2nd is a good date... :-) 9.5 hours already.

Yesterday at 12:31am via Facebook for iPhone

Ok, it's serious now. The shower helped a lot but it's starting to get harder to walk or talk during contractions. I refresh my makeup, which is a staple for me during my births - don't judge.

I stop typing. I'm still checking my Facebook via my iPod, but not responding to much. I'm feeling the need to go to the bathroom, but I'm nowhere near ready to push. I try to explain that to the nurses, that I would just rather go in the toilet than on the table in front of everyone!

1am - 8cm. Ok, it's transition. I stop walking because I'm not steady on my feet anymore. I stop bouncing on the ball because I lose my balance during contractions. I sit straight up in bed, cross legged, like a beautiful birthing Buddha. I rest my head back against the perpendicular head of the bed between contractions and actually manage to doze for just a few minutes.

2am- I ask the nurse to check me again because I think I'm close. Still 8cm, but stretchy. I start focusing on a sprinkler on the ceiling, the doctor and nurse joke that many women pick the same particular spot to focus on. I don't scream. I barely speak. I vocalize through soft moans and intonations. At one point, I look at the doctor and say, "That's it. No more kids. No more kids."

Later, Jeff told me that he thought I said, "No more kidding." That's when the doctor's face changed and we all started getting more serious. I wondered why she didn't laugh at my joke. The pain is getting more intense.

2:35am - 9cm. We still haven't decided on a name.

2:40am - I ask if the window is still closed for pain medicine or an epidural. Jeff, dutifully, reminds me that I'm not as in pain as I was when I sprained my knee. Then, I was crying so hard that when I called Jeff, he could barely understand my words. I can do this. I don't need it.

2:50am - I feel the urge to push. The room goes silent. The nurse watches my reaction to the urge. It ceases and I rest for a moment and then - it's go time. I have to push. Now.

The doctor checks me and I'm 10cm. She (stupidly) tells me to stop pushing and I say, "Yeah right!" There's no way I'm stopping this train now. The room has been in preparations around me and I haven't noticed. During this birth, though, I have my contacts in the whole time so I'm more aware of my surroundings. And, I'm not drugged out of my mind.

4 pushes and she's out.2:58am. I tear slightly. The doctor waits to clamp the cord until it stops pulsing. I take a picture of my daughter's cord being cut by her daddy. I put her to my chest and then the doctor says, "Ok, one more push."

"Oh! I forgot about that part!"

Skin to skin. I kiss that little cream cheese face that looks just like Tater Tot and say, "Hi Delaney." Spud says, "See? You knew what you wanted to name her all along.

Mama Spud

Welcome Delaney Caroline! 7lb,5oz 19.5 in 2:58am ct 9/2/10

Yesterday at 4:18am via Facebook for iPhone

19 months, 36 weeks

1 month to go!!

36 Weeks

Oh, and I'm already 1cm dilated. And have been having contractions off and on for the past two days.

I've been nesting, also... Yet another sign labor is coming soon, right?! How cute is this little attic room for baby? Complete with owl accents as a tribute to the poor owl that met his maker the night we went to the hospital for early labor. Ha!

More later... I'm having a contraction and don't feel like blogging any more... sighhhhh

1.5 years, 8 months

34 Week Ultrasound
Growth Restriction Check

Big feet...

...big hands...

...big head

....and she's still a girl!

Guess what? There's no growth restriction. Yay! I have a theory about why I kept measuring small each week. Usually I have my appointments in the afternoon, after two meals, lots of fluids, and a bit of swelling. But the past two appointments were in the early morning, after a light breakfast and my belly hadn't had a chance to get big again. Plus, they make you lay flat on your back so all your guts and fat melt to the sides, making you not as big as if you were upright.

6 weeks until I'm a mommy of two under two...

Small Fry:
5 lbs, 4 oz
appox. 17 inches long
Practicing breathing (and hiccuping!)
She has hair (visible on the ultrasound). Hope it's blond!

81 Weeks, 34 Weeks

I've stopped and started this post about 4 times now! Not that it's controversial or troubling for me to write, I'm just too dang tired. Sunday night, I fell asleep at 9pm still in my work clothes, with my jewelry and hair and makeup still on, clutching my iPod while the TV and lights were blaring.

That. Tired.

It's hot here. Hotter than my where my parents live in North Carolina. No ocean breeze to cool you. At least we have air conditioning. Oh, thank God for AC. We don't pay for our electricity thanks to my husbands job, and our house is so old, that I feel the need (as a fat, pregnant, beast) to crank the AC. Some nights, down as low as 66 degrees.

Is that bad?

I know the hippies want us to use air sparingly and yah yah yah.... But I'm a FAT, PREGNANT BEAST WITH A LARGE, OVERHEATED HOUSE! With lots of cracks for the blazing winds to peek through and big windows for the blazing sun to shine through. No thanks.

On another note, Friday was our 5th wedding anniversary! Altogether, we've been a couple for 9 years in September, and have known each other for a total of 13 years. And for once, there were no tears on our anniversary, with only very minimal fighting. (Ha! You think I'm kidding. Every. Damn. Year.)

The night before, Spud and Tater Tot picked me up from work. It was late at night and Tot was already in her pajamas, bathed and ready for bed as soon as we came home. Spud said he wanted to give me my gift tonight, so I dashed into the bedroom to fill out my card for him and put his gift in a bag. Tot followed me to our room and was impatiently pounding on the door, waiting to give me my gifts, until Spud taught her to knock gently until I came out.

When I finally finished and opened the door, she got so excited, handed me my card, and said loudly, "Niiiicce! Hahaa!" She had given both of us a card that said, "Mom and Dad, I wanted to give you and exotic vacation with the sand in your toes and a drink in your hand.... But this was all I could afford on my budget." A tiny drink umbrella was taped to the inside and Tot's "signature" was all over the inside. Cute! She then handed me her present and I was surprised to see a Willow Tree figurine!

Quietly
Quietly encircled by love I've learned, as a mother, sister, daughter, wife, that the communication of touch can be very healing, not only for the receiver but for the giver. Quietly is meant to be a very calming piece, especially for a mom. A lot of people think this piece is a mother with two boys, but I see it as either. (Actually, my models were two little girls with short hair!) - Susan Lordi

That makes #12 in my collection! Wow!

And Jeff's "gift" to me was a new set of wedding rings that I picked out and bought myself. Because, sometimes, that's just what you have to do! My original wedding ring is great and has served it's purpose, but it's an uncomfortable size 4.5 and was just a cheap, sterling silver band that is hard to match with any other ring. My original engagement ring was a beautiful 1.5 cttw solitaire with 3 accent stones on either side. It was also 2 sizes too big and dipped in white gold, making it unable to be sized. Eventually, the white gold wore off and left patches of yellow gold, copper lining, and white gold. Not pretty. I've been wearing another ring with just a few diamond chips in it, some of which have fallen out over the years. Not pretty either.

So I got new ones! A pretty antique-style, diamond cluster engagement ring and a small band with diamonds along the top. They're not fancy or horribly expensive, but special to me and now comfortable for me to wear. Also, not embarrassing for me either. I always hide my hands at work when women come in and buy giant diamond rings from me - something I would never be able to afford.

And Spud... oh Spud. His anniversary gift was a damn steal! A certain department store (that I don't work for) happens to give out cash vouchers when you spend so much in the store. So, I turned around and used the cash vouchers from my rings to get Spud....

A Keurig mini coffee maker with 10 free coffee pods.

He's in love all over again. Not with me. The coffee maker.

And since I didn't know we were doing "gifts" from Tater Tot like he did, a few days later I got him some more coffee pods and a little reusable plastic filter so you can put in your own coffee.

I hate to brag about these things, but it's about time that we had a nice anniversary with decent gifts. Each year we're horribly broke, stretched thin, working hard and we can hardly afford gifts for each other, much less cards. Sometimes he forgets. Sometimes he doesn't show initiative. This year - he was on point. Good job Spuddy.

Friday night we got a sitter and went to a local Italian restaurant called Niko's for dinner. I had Chicken Picata (lemon chicken with capers that I subtly pushed to the side, and pasta) and he had the Chicken Mare (anyone know how to make the accent over the 'e'? Anyways, it was chicken and giant shrimp with pasta and sauce). Ooh, don't forget the crab dip for the appetizer. I really have to start watching my seafood/mercury intake again.

Then, to top off a child-less evening, we went to the movies and saw..... a kid's movie.

Oh well. Toy Stoy 3 (not in 3-D, I hate wearing those glasses on top of my glasses!). It was available and short and got us home in time for the sitter. Not to mention, surprisingly good!

And, of course, it has Spud's favorite characters....