Tuesday, May 25, 2010

1 year & 4 months, 23 weeks

It's summertime in Kentucky! Time to get in the the baby pool, slip your shoes off, eat strawberries by the handful, and drink margaritas (oh wait... 4 more months).

Small Fry is getting big! And kicking up a storm! Spud even got to feel a few kicks and bumps finally.

This week's complaint: The heat makes my ring finger swell!

This week's development: Her pancreas is developing!

Baby's size: 1 lb, 11 inches (spaghetti squash).

Mama's hungry... time for some Cheezits.

Thursday, May 20, 2010

16 months, 22 weeks

I've had two follow up appointments with the doctor since the midnight hospital adventure (which ended in the poor demise of one large bird of prey). So far everything looks good and on track and this little blip on Small Fry's radar is not something to really worry about right now.

No worries.

Moving on. Tater Tot has really become a big girl lately. She puts herself down for a nap now and doesn't want me to hold her or rock her with a bottle. She'd much rather relax on a Boppy pillow in her crib, drinking milk until she falls asleep.

That's two big no-no's in all the parenting books, right?!?! Ahh!! How did she decide that she wants to tempt choking, rotting teeth, and suffocation by feeding herself a bottle in bed?

But you know what? It works. Hot damn, all I have to do is turn on her white noise machine, play her musical seahorse, then lay her down in with a bottle and walk away. No jumping up, no crying, no endless story books, or even crazy alligator rolls. Sometimes she lays there and fights sleep for a little bit, but she did that even when I rocked her and cuddled her and sang to her.

I love my Tater Tot, but that crap was exhausting!

So, should I risk potential health and dental hazards for a few minutes of sanity during my day? She's old enough to know not to bury her face in a pillow and suffocate. She's big enough to move her nose and mouth away when she can't breathe. I still listen to her on the monitor (although turned down fairly low) and can hear her scream or choke. Which she doesn't. And maybe I'll start brushing her teeth after she wakes up from naps so I can stop worrying about the tooth thing. We already try to brush before bedtime and when she wakes up.... notice I said... TRY.

In other news...
My dad bought a house! He's signing the papers today and my mom is moving down to the beach this weekend. Without going into too much detail, they've been separated for 11 years but have never actually divorced. Recently, they've started to become friends again and then my dad asked my mom to live with him (several states away). The best part of this whole thing is that my parents' back yard is right across from my aunt and uncle's back yard! My grandmother also lives with them and various cousins, babies, and spouses are over there all the time, so when we go visit - we'll see everyone!! The only part of my family left up North is my sister, Curly Fry, and her family. The rest of the Spudly's, however, still live up North which is a 8-10 hour drive.... 14 to the beach.

I think we need to start investing in some airline tickets...

Congrats Grammy & Grampy!

15.5 months, 20.5 weeks

Mother's Day weekend

The end of April and the beginning of May are always a busy time in our household. And forget about the whole month of August. In the world of the college life staff, there are definite crazy busy times and long periods of (somewhat) relaxation. Instead of just two days off for Christmas, my husband luckily has a month of "light-duty" and a full week completely off of work. Spring break. Fall break. Summer vacation! All periods of "down-time."'

But there are two periods of time at the beginning and end of the school year that require "all hands on deck."

Move in. And move out.

Move out usually falls the first weekend in May, just after finals week, and then there's the rush of ....shudder.... commencement.

It's always hot. It requires a tie. It's early morning set-up and a late night the night before. It wears my husband out!

So it's a good thing that we had a minor medical crisis, Mother's Day, some babysitting snafus, and a dead owl.

We just found out that we're having a girl on Wednesday. After a half hour ultrasound, hour in the waiting room, and at least another half hour with the doctor, two visits to car dealerships, and dinner at Red Robin, the longest day out had finally come to a close. I made sure to tell the doctor that I was having some cramping and a few random contractions, but she wasn't really worried and told me to prop up my feet and drink lots of water.

On Friday, at 1:30pm, the contractions started. Tater Tot and I were outside playing so I decided to go inside, switch the laundry to the dryer, and prop my feet up while Tot watched a Blue's Clues tape. I drank my water. I tried to relax.

Then the doorbell rang. And the laundry needed switched again. And the dishwasher needed to be loaded before dinner. And then it was time to wrestle the baby alligator for a diaper change and nap.

The contractions continued. Small. Uneven. Sporadic. And only half-way through my pregnancy...

Get ready for work, eat dinner, work a lousy shift for four hours with more contractions and lower back pains. I called the doctor's answering service and waited almost 2 HOURS for the doctor to call me back. When the on-call doctor finally did, of course I was closing my register and couldn't answer. I called him on my way home and he told me to come into the hospital 45 minutes away. It was already 10:15pm.

I call my loving Spud and tell him that my suspicions earlier were right and the doctor wanting me to come into the hospital. Had he found someone to babysit, like I asked earlier?

"What?! I have to be up at 7am for graduation!"

I lost it. That's it buddy! I've been having contractions for 9 hours with a severely premature fetus and something is wrong! We have to go to the hospital!

After a long car ride, tests, blood drawn, ultrasounds, and monitoring, they decided nothing was wrong and no contractions were being picked up. I wasn't dilated so the baby was not coming tonight and nothing else was wrong. We picked up some cheeseburgers and headed home at 2am.

Then we hit an owl.

Punchdrunk and exhausted, we hit a owl that swooped out of the night sky and he exploded all over the highway. He was so big, I thought it was a small deer (and am still slightly convinced it was a deer). We finally get to bed at 3am and poor Spud had to wake up early the next morning for graduation.

The next day was a bit of a mess and I didn't rest like I was supposed to, and surely felt it that night. More contractions. Take an anti-contraction pill and try to rest until the next day when I had to go to work. The next day just so happened to be Mother's Day.

We had accepted that it was Mother's Day and I wasn't going to be able to do all of the things that we wanted to do because of work, but that was ok. We would celebrate the next day and it would still be special, no matter what day it was.

I ended up coming home sick after two hours at work because the anti-contraction pills were lowering my blood pressure and making me feel like I was going to faint. Instead of resting and being pampered on Mother's Day, I woke up early with the Tot, took care of her most of the day, put her to bed, and felt like hell.

No presents today. Or the next day. No card or special dinner either. No real mention of the day at all from my family.

It was a bad weekend, to say the least. On Monday, I broke down and got really upset because Spud said he didn't have time to work on my present so he was just going to ruin the surprise and tell me what it was anyways. I told him that I didn't want him to "buy" something but he could "make" or "do" something for me - or for our family. We could "go" somewhere, but he didn't have to spend a lot of money on something I didn't need.

He finally made a really cute growth chart for me with Tot at 30 inches and places for pictures of her at 3 feet, 3.5 feet, etc. and a picture of both of us at the top that said 'Mommy & Me.' It was pink and green and fit in Tater Tot's room perfectly - and promptly fell off the wall the next day.

It has yet to be put back up. I appreciate the effort though. :-/

Small Fry has calmed down and is being a much better girl. Turns out, I had an infection that made her unhappy and caused contractions. An anti-biotic and another round of fetal monitoring later, we determined this little girl is just a feisty baby who needs to get a spanking once she's born!

Friday, May 7, 2010

67 Weeks, 20 Weeks

It's a girl!!
Meet Baby Girl - Small Fry, 20 Weeks

Meanwhile, in Toddler Land...
Tater Tot, 15 months, sitting in a plastic tub

We're entering a fun stage of toddler-dom.

The tantrum.

It's fun. It's annoying. It's freq
uent. While getting my ultrasound for Small Fry, Tot started throwing a fit because she couldn't be on the table with me. One small hand full of sticky ultrasound gel later, I'm holding onto her with one hand and trying to keep us both on the small table with the other.

But we're so delighted to have another girl! Of course my frugality kicks in (we don't have to buy anything!) but other than that, I'm just excited to have two little girls. Girls that I can dress in matching outfits, teach each other things, and pull each others hair.... oh my.

What have I gotten into?!?

Stats on the kids:

Weight- 22 lbs
Length- 32 in
New Skill- Dancing

(Tater Tot - 18.5 weeks)

(Small Fry - 20 weeks)
Weight - 12 oz (Coke can)
Length - 7in (Banana)
New Skills - Swallowing
Embarrassment- Throwing up at work