So Say We All

Various and Sundry

2012-02-15T20:44:00.000-06:00

And now we get to that part of pregnancy where I can't quite complete a full thought...

On Peeing
I read a suggestion somewhere on the interwebz (Dooce? Amalah?) to lean forward while peeing in order to better empty your bladder. It works, but in order to do so effectively, I have drop my pants to the ground, and lean over Al Bundy style, if you can imagine Al Bundy reading the Sunday newspaper in the bathroom while taking giant dump. If we cross paths in a multi-stall bathroom, you might see my undies. Sorry.

On The Grammys
My taste in music remains solidly entrenched in the 1990s, and I'm sad that untucked flannel shirts for women haven't made their comeback yet. The Grammys aren't really my thing, but I enjoy a good awards show, and the Grammys seem a bit like the white trash of award shows (when compared to the uber-distinguished Oscars later this month). I loved Dave Grohl's speech. I loved Adele's performance (which sadly has been pulled from YouTube). I'm glad there are still a few musicians out there who actually, you know, SING and PLAY INSTRUMENTS and don't rely on lip syncing and autotune and computers to MAKE MUSIC. Isn't that the point? Music should be genuine...authentic...from the heart...and not a fancy computer program. If an artist can't perform live music with nothing but their own God-given talents, then it's little more than a dance recital (I'm looking at you Katy Perry...Nicki Minaj...and Madonna at the Super Bowl).

On Pooping
A distant memory.

On Girl Scout Cookies
This direct sale model wherein I can get cookies whenever I want? I'm a junkie. I have multiple cookie suppliers so no one of them knows how much I'm eating. I'd like to save a box or two to celebrate Baby Jedi's birthday, but I am defenseless against Thin Mints, Peanut Butter Patties (Hoedowns 25 years ago), and Peanut Butter Sandwiches (Savannahs 25 years ago). Damned little girls and their delicious cookies.

On Thomas the Tank Engine
Despite our efforts to keep most commercialized toys, books, and children's programming out of our home, Callum has discovered Thomas. Nothing really wrong with Thomas and his friends; I just find them exceedingly lame and annoying. Callum regularly tells us that "Thomas is my bestie engine on the Island of Sodor!" And it's really hard not to immediately log on to Amazon to buy that boy a train table and all the fixins' (THIS IS NOT A GIFT HINT; WE HAVE NO ROOM FOR SUCH A MONSTROSITY, GRANDMA AND GRANDPA!). Thank goodness both the Lincoln Children's Museum and Barnes and Noble have public train tables.

On Giant Turds
I am pleased to report that one of Callum's teachers reported that Callum pooped a big turd this afternoon! I'm not sure who was prouder - Callum or me. He told me a friend even looked at it! I hope he didn't inherit my amazing toilet clogging skillz.

Baby Butt Gets His Revenge

2012-02-09T21:17:00.000-06:00

Poor Callum has a cold. To help him sleep at night and stay upright so he doesn't cough as much, he sits between my legs, leans back, and rests his head on my belly.

And then Baby Brother punches him in the head. Repeatedly.

Mommy Got Back

2012-01-25T22:02:00.000-06:00

Not exactly sure where in the baby book you file this story, but here it is:

I wore a ~~dress~~ muumuu today, and as I was filling out Callum's daily sheet at daycare this morning, I felt a light breeze as he played with the back of my skirt, though thankfully, I don't think anyone saw London or France. As I knelt down to give Callum a farewell hug and kiss, he started giggling and said, "I played with your big butt! I laughed!"

I corrected him: "No, Mommy has a TINY butt."

His response: "No, Mommy. You have a big butt."

About that Midwife I'm Seeing...

2012-01-24T21:15:00.000-06:00

I am seeing a midwife for Baby Jedi's prenatal care and birth. Upon learning this, most people give me a skeptical raised eyebrow, a tilted head, and a multi-syallabic "oh." I used an OB with Callum, and while I will never regret that decision and believe that I received excellent medical care, the experience left me traumatized (healthy mom and baby notwithstanding). Anyway, here's a terribly long post about why I switched providers. Let me be clear: my decisions and opinions are not a judgment of your decisions or differing opinions.

There's not much about childbirth that can be controlled.

You don't know when labor will begin.

You don't know how baby will present himself.

You don't know how you'll respond to labor...at least, not the first time.

You can control where you labor.

You can control who will attend your labor - partner, friends, doula, medical care provider.

You can control your own preparation for labor.

You can control the coping mechanisms you use during your labor.

When I had Callum, my goal was to avoid a c-section and as many interventions as possible unless medically indicated. My stance on pain relief via epidural: wait and see. That was the extent of my birth "plan." I found the idea of planning the minute details of a birth ludicrous, and I feel much the same way today (though I do plan to create a page or less of bullet point birth "preferences" to share with my care providers). In hindsight, the only part of my labor that did go exactly as I would have planned was that it began spontaneously (at exactly 41 weeks, on the day I was scheduled to be induced). During labor, I was so focused internally and mostly unaware of things happening around me. To this day, I cannot tell you the names of my delivery nurses nor describe what they looked like. Although Chris's handwritten notes indicate otherwise, I did not know that Callum was occiput posterior until my OB requested to use forceps for delivery.

I know that after 6 hours of hard back labor and progress from 0cm to 3cm in that time (which, in hindsight, is pretty FRAKKING awesome), I lost all confidence in my ability to continue laboring without an epidural. I was tethered to an external fetal monitor that limited my range of motion, and I believe that my request for intermittent monitoring was denied (though in my stupor, it's possible I did not state the request clearly). When my OB checked me, I remember him saying something along the lines of "I hate to see you in pain like this" and "An epidural will help you relax so you can have this baby sooner." He offered to break my water, but I declined, as I knew the c-section countdown clock would start. It seems in labor, I'm also vulnerable to persuasion.

I hated the epidural. It made me nauseous, goofy as hell, and I could not feel a thing. Chris would watch the monitor and tell me when I was having a contraction. Only toward the end did I feel any sensation that seemed reminiscent of a contraction. I remember being quite surprised that I could feel something...just not the pain. It never occurred to me to ask that the epidural be turned down. Not surprisingly, my labor stalled at 4cm for the next 4-5 hours, so they cranked up the Pitocin until Callum showed signs of distress. My OB returned (having just finished mowing his lawn and having not appeared to have since showered), broke my water, inserted an intrauterine pressure catheter (it screws into baby's scalp and more accurately records the strength of contractions), and turned the Pitocin back on.

My labor finally got going again, at least as defined by my OB (1cm of change every 60-90 minutes), and by 4:00 in the afternoon, according to the nurses, I was ready to push. I doubt that I was a particularly good pusher, as I had no sense of what I was supposed to be doing or where to focus my efforts. I still couldn't feel anything. I remember loudly farting (OK, fine, probably pooping) in close proximity to one of the nurses and getting the giggles. I knew that when my OB showed up, the end was near.

It turns out that but for the epidural, I would have had a c-section. The pain and pressure of a forceps delivery - even though the cloud of the epidural - was indescribably horrific, because I knew exactly what was being done. It scared Chris; it appeared to him that the doctor was using a lot of brute force. For me, the fear was all consuming. I think it was in that moment that my hormones went haywire and perhaps why I struggled so much with nursing and some very dark baby blues and postpartum anxiety (I shit you not: I was convinced we should have been eaten by wolves). I saw the needle the OB used to stitch me up, and I swear to God it looked like something you'd crochet with (that's a nice thought: a crocheted vagina).

I remember one of my postpartum nurses, who I'm sure was trying to comfort me, compared my recovery from a 3rd degree tear to that of a c-section. I was not amused. Many months later, after an allergic reaction to some pain medicine for a never-ending cough, I confessed to my family physician's nurse that I took some of my leftover postpartum Zofran (anti-nausea medicine that helped me keep the postpartum Percocet down) with the new pain medicine. She looked at me in disbelief and said "but you didn't have a c-section?!" I guess some women who give birth vaginally are sent home with Advil and a stool softener. I assumed everyone got the good stuff!

Callum's birth has always weighed heavy on my heart. Of course I am thankful for a healthy outcome. The experience itself left me wanting something different, and I realized I wasn't all that impressed with my OB's care. We overheard him scoff when we requested that Chris's blood be typed at our first appointment. He failed to mention his week-long European vacation during my 40th week of pregnancy until I was 38 weeks along, and then would not allow me to meet any of his partners (after he'd promised at my first prenatal visit to be at the delivery). He did answer all of my questions, but was certainly very pro-epidural, and did not offer or discuss other types of pain relief. He did recognize that this was not the birth experience I had hoped for.

This time around, I have chosen to change those factors over which I have some control, the biggest being my choice of provider. Midwives specialize in normal pregnancy and childbirth. Because I have chosen a midwife to attend my birth, I have also switched to her preferred hospital, as it is more familiar with and accepting of midwifery. (An aside: midwife-attended home births in Nebraska are illegal. While I don't think a planned home birth would be a comfortable option for Chris and me, I find it ridiculous that the option is legally prohibited, and I know of two women who went "underground" for planned home births, presumably attended only by family and friends.) My midwife is a Certified Nurse Midwife. She and her partners are part of practice that includes four OBs, and she will transfer my care to an OB if my pregnancy becomes high risk or my labor has complications. She has made no promises about attending my birth and strongly encouraged me to schedule at least one appointment with each of her midwife partners. She is responsible for taking my vitals during each appointment; I have no nurse to run interference with the OB. Though our earlier and later prenatal appointments are only 15 minutes long, the "middle" appointments are 30 minutes long so she can educate me about pregnancy and childbirth and take the time to answer my questions.

Most importantly, the midwife will be with me throughout my labor and delivery to provide medical and emotional support. When I show up at the hospital, she'll be there too, and she won't leave my side until Baby Jedi is born. She can get in my face to tell me what's going on and what to do, and she offers a tried-and-true menu of distractions, position changes, coping mechanisms, and practical experience. With continuous positive support, an unmedicated low intervention birth is realistic and something I hope to achieve. That being said, my birth "plan" for Baby Jedi is the same as Callum's: NO REGRETS. Get him out with as few interventions as medically necessary, and we'll take a wait and see approach to the drugs.

I've also been reading and learning more about unmedicated childbirth (thank goodness for my Kindle so I can read these on the down low in the presence of others). Many of the midwifery books are bit too new age for my taste and attempt to completely discredit the medical "model" of birth followed by OBs. There IS a middle ground! I try to skim these sections and focus on the practical advice on preparing for and coping with labor pains. Maybe I'll get around to preparing a reading list...

And finally, to dispel some myths about modern midwives and midwifery:

I can have an epidural under her care. She is not trained to use forceps or the vacuum, and in the event of a c-section, will serve as the OB's first assistant.
She is not some wizened old granny with sachets of herbs in her skirt and a tackle box of obscure plants and tinctures.
Likewise, she does not appear to be some crunchy granola braless hippy, and I appreciate her collection of cute shoes.
She accepts my insurance, and therefore, I will not pay for her services with livestock and a sack of grain.

I am really, really excited for Baby Jedi's birth! I can't wait to meet him!

22 Weeks

2012-01-04T22:40:00.000-06:00

The second child is already getting the shaft when it comes to regular pregnancy blog posts. Here's me a week or so ago, somewhere around 22 weeks along:

I've got more belly than that today, though it kills me to compare this to my 20-week belly with Callum.

You guys?!?! I haven't been that skinny since...well, since that picture was taken, and I've done since birthed THAT baby.

I've not written much about this pregnancy, as it's truly been SO DAMN EASY (first trimester nausea and misery notwithstanding...and even that was short-lived). I have nothing to whine about, nor is anything I'm experiencing particularly humorous or noteworthy. My "wacky" symptoms include frequent peeing and frequent hunger, an occasional but entirely manageable achy lower back, a few food and smell aversions (though in my defense, green peppers and scrambled eggs don't smell particularly great to my non-pregnant self), and some fatigue. I am pooping with acceptable frequency, and my farts are no more lethal than yours. I'm sleeping well, and I have yet to really want or need the bevy of pillows that kept me comfortable at night last time. My emotions have been kept mostly in check, and I'm not nearly as physically aware of the hormonal fluctuations as I was last time. I grunt more than usual when changing positions or getting off our (way too soft) couch, but that just comes with the territory.

Perhaps the novelty of being pregnant has worn off - I don't immediately dive into my copy of Mayo Clinic Guide to a Healthy Pregnancy every single time I experience a new pregnancy side effect. Maybe I'm more focused on how this one will make his debut and what I can do to make that a positive healing experience for me. Or, maybe I realize how simple it is to care for a tiny newborn while he's still on the INSIDE, and I can sleep for multiple consecutive hours. Could it be that I've mellowed a LOT in three years?

Or, perhaps this is just the calm before the storm.

Put Some Pants On, Woman!

2011-12-31T14:44:00.000-06:00

Dear Woman of a Certain Age,

Congratulations on your ~~eating disorder~~ commitment to fitness and nutrition! Your daughters are lithe teenagers who are stunning in their skinny jeans, tall boots, and tight shirts that leave little to the imagination. I'm sure many young gentlemen would enjoy "tapping that ass" in the sleeping dorm back at the frat house. Simply charming!

You, on the other hand, with your nearly identical jeggings, tall boots, cropped jacket, and messy ponytail? Are trying too hard. I am embarrassed for you. No one here would ever mistake you for your daughter's sister. Skinny though you are, you look ridiculous. I'm not asking you to abandon all sense of style for mom jeans and SAS shoes, but please? Could you put on a cardigan? Maybe enjoy a cheeseburger or six?

Yours truly,

KimmyGoat

It's a Luke Skywalker!

2011-12-15T21:10:00.000-06:00

As I predicted many weeks ago, Baby Jedi is a boy! I can't wait to meet him! Just look at that face!!! Those hands and feet! He spent most of the ultrasound appointment facing away from us, though was not shy at all about showing us his penis.

I feel great! I had an easy pregnancy with Callum; so far, this one is even easier...and I daresay: BORING! That's not a complaint - I'm grateful. I have an anterior placenta, meaning the placenta rests in that sweet spot where people think it's OK to rub your belly. The downside? I haven't been able to feel much movement, though he's been more forceful in the past week. Another downside: according to Dr. Google, this may increase the probability of another posterior baby (e.g. one looking up instead of down when he's born OWWWW MY HINEY), though I need to confirm that with the midwife. Not everything you read on the Google is the truth.

I can't believe we're halfway there! I need to post a belly shot - the difference between this one at 20 weeks and Callum at 20 weeks is WILD! And I thought I was huge back then. HA. HA HA.

Potty Trained

2011-12-11T20:08:00.001-06:00

Congratulations to Callum! Potty training has been a resounding success! We put away his diapers the Wednesday before Thanksgiving and stayed close to home that entire weekend. He had no accidents at school last week, and no accidents at home this weekend! WOO HOO! He still wears a diaper during his nap and at night time, but those will be on their way out after he's more consistently dry upon waking.

This is also the first weekend we've ventured out for significant periods of time. Much success, though I've spent a lot of time in public bathrooms holding a squirmy boy at a 45-degree angle over the toilet to pee. I can't wait for the novelty of foreign bathrooms to wear off. This weekend alone, we sampled:

Starbucks at 12th & P: 3 visits (by the way, the doors lock from the outside now and require a code); 2 were for "fun." Bathroom was clean, newly renovated, and included a bonus stall.
Lincoln Children's Museum: 1 visit; I had to pee too, and for some reason, I didn't realize we'd selected the toddler (?) stall until I sat down...and was able to peek over the top of the door and see other adults.
Cracker Barrel: 1 visit; unremarkable.
Bruegger's Bagels: 1 visit; false alarm. Upon exiting, Callum proudly announced to the entire restaurant, "ME NO POOP IN MY UNDERWEAR. NO POOP! NO POOP IN MY UNDIES!" Good-natured couple sitting near us enjoyed a laugh.
SuperTarget: 2 visits in 10 minutes; surprisingly, both were, AHEM, fruitful. I love the family bathroom. Callum might have cheered a bit too loudly after his second pee.

Yes, friends. That's correct: 8 visits to public bathrooms in less than 24 hours. So great is my fear of public bathrooms, I'm not sure that I visited that many during our 7 day trip to Ireland.

Week 10, Day 2: Belly Button Lint, Redux

2011-11-29T21:30:00.000-06:00

This is the last of my pre-announcement pregnancy posts. It was written on October 9, when I was 10 weeks and 2 days along. I don't have an outie...YET...but at this rate, I might be sporting the equivalent of a third nipple by Christmas. Also, my farts remain pleasantly rosy and not at all lethal.

Do you want to prevent teen pregnancy? Send them my way - they'll never have sex again.

I have proof that my belly is MUCH bigger MUCH faster this time around.

This happened in the shower this morning - SIX WEEKS EARLIER THAN LAST TIME. It wasn't nearly as satisfying to clean the goop out this time as it only had had 3 years and not 30 years to accumulate.

While Callum's and Jedi's due dates are 9 days apart, Callum was born at 41 weeks (OH MY GOD HARPOON ME NOW). So as far as I'm concerned, these pregnancies are almost exactly on track with each other, except that I'm fatter and bitchier earlier than before. Also, the gas isn't nearly as deadly...yet.

We Might Need a New Bed

2011-11-27T20:31:00.001-06:00

Chris's and my bed has been terribly squeaky (please insert lame sex joke here). So squeaky that it would wake me up at night when he flipflopped from side to side to side. Given that I'm already up once or twice a night peeing or tending to Callum, the squeaking was affecting my sleep. We narrowed the problem down to some loose screws and tightened them, but that seemed to make the problem even worse. With my parents in town this morning for a quick visit, Chris and I decided to separate the headboard from the side rails to see if we could identify the problem.

And we did: one side rail was cracked and not easily repaired by us. We decided to disassemble the bed (the side rails, foot board, and supports all match the headboard) and reattach the headboard to a generic frame that was stored in the attic above our garage.

Well, if Chris was going to be up there anyway, then he was going to take a box of Callum's not-needed-in-the-immediate-future baby items up there with him (just as soon as I found a box for them, since they'd been cluttering our bedroom for 6 months), and he was going to bring the Christmas tree and decorations down.

The baby box went up, the tree came down, but no bed frame was found.

Chris checked the shed - no bed frame.

Then we took the ladder to the side of the house to clean out the dryer vent. Because WHY NOT?!

We finally realized we had sold two frames to my co-workers - the one replaced by our lovely and now broken bed, and the one attached to our old full-sized bed that was replaced by the futon. Both frames were nearly brand new.

Fortunately, we have the frame we had planned to use with Callum's big boy bed for when we decide to lift the mattress off the floor. It doesn't have a place for the foot board, but will work for now. Except that it's old, and its holes don't match up with the holes on our head board.

So now we have no headboard, and I feel entirely unmoored from the rest of the room. We're just floating around while we sleep.

However, as it turns out, that bed was TOO damn big for our bedroom! We've gained all of one foot at the foot of our bed, and it feels like we've gained an acre! SO ROOMY! The bed sits lower too, which my unwieldy pregnant self will appreciate in a few months (the other bed was so high, I had to jump down). It provides much needed seating in our room - the perfect height for putting on shoes and tights!

Anyone here want to redesign our bedroom?

Week 9, Day 5: Bizarro World

2011-11-22T21:09:00.000-06:00

I wrote this on October 5. The weird dreams aren't as frequent as they were then. The dreams I remember now are [ahem] AWKWARD, feature overly complex time lines and stories, or are just so bizarre that they make no sense at all and aren't particularly funny. Strangely, Dooce keeps showing up.

OH HOLY NIGHT. My dreams? They are WEIRD. Vivid dreams are another well-known side effect of pregnancy, and they have hit me full force this time around. When I was pregnant with Callum, the only weird dream I remember was meeting our baby boy "Calvin" in a Burger King after our house burned down (this was before we knew we were having a boy and WAY before that boy had a name).

This time around? Every night is an adventure. Recent excursions have included:

Dooce (I think I was babysitting for her?)
Unicam Speaker Mike Flood spraying freon in the board room at work while I took minutes of the meeting. At first, I tried sitting by my former professor Dave Landis, but I was still affected, so I had to leave the room. I was comforted by a colleague and had to admit I was pregnant.
Terrorists burned down our house while we were in Ireland, though the basement and sub-basement (yes, a sub-basement) were livable. A melted oak chandelier rested where Callum's changing table once stood. Our house was on the same block as my parents' house. The media wanted a comment, but I was adamant that none of us talk to them as I didn't want to be portrayed as a victim.
I had the baby via c-section; it was a boy. I had no pain. Amalah and sweet baby Ike were in bed with me (she was comforting me like a sister might). To help us with nursing, the night nurse planted a nipple shield (gentlemen: follow that link at your own risk) on me while I was sleeping. When I awoke, that nipple did not look normal.
My friend Joanna decided to throw herself a wedding...much like people in the real world host a barbecue or invite people over to watch a football game. She married her husband (again), except the wedding was held in a cemetery/funeral home chapel. I drove my parents there in a firetruck.

I'm thankful the dreams are just bizarre and not nightmarish. I don't dare try to analyze them; they are not grounded in any conscious reality. I probably remember them better because I wake up shortly thereafter needing to pee (AGAIN).

Week 9, Day 3: HALLELUJAH!!

2011-11-15T20:35:00.000-06:00

I don't really have anything to add here. Other than a bout of stomach flu, I've felt GRRRREAT ever since! Now I'm just waiting for an obvious jab to an internal organ as part of the Occupy Kimberly movement, though the placenta is situated such that I might not feel Jedi's pointy parts as strongly as I could.

PRAISE JESUS.

The morning sickness has subsided.

JUST. LIKE. THAT.

I woke up last Thursday (8 weeks, 6 days) and did not have the immediate urge to hurl. In fact, I felt great all day. And the next day too. And the whole weekend. And I think maybe I'm done with this bullshit. WHERE IS MY GOLD STAR?

Thank you, oh placenta of my womb and resident hormone factory, for firing up just in the nick of time. Stick tight to my uterus, stay away from my cervix, nourish my babe, and I'll see you in May.

My food aversions remain plentiful, and anything dairy-related makes me queasy. I did enjoy half a bag of cheddar and sour cream Ruffles this afternoon, though that hardly qualifies as dairy. Milk? Yogurt? Cheese? NO THANK YOU.

In other news, I'm showing. I've been showing since...oh...a few days after I peed on the stick. It still looks like a beer gut/gas baby and not a preggo belly, and I'm running out of Regular and Not Obviously Maternity clothes very quickly. Also, I've gained a lot of weight since I was pregnant with Callum, and most of my old maternity clothes don't fit me. The Bella Band has been a godsend this time around, but let's face it: they don't make shirts and dresses with skinny ties in the back for non-pregnant women. Thankfully, it's been just cool enough to get by with cardigans and scarves and lots of black. LOTS of black.

Part of me wants to publicly announce this pregnancy now so I can wear WHATEVER THE HELL I WANT AND NO ONE WILL GIVE ME ANY SHIT. Alas, still a few more weeks to go until I am comfortable doing so.

File this under TMI: the gas this time is not nearly as vile or frequent (yet) as it was with Callum. Also: I miss my daily post-Starbucks poop. At this rate, I won't have another satisfying poop until I'm pushing this kid out.

I can't believe my grandma did this eight times.

The Shake Weight

2011-11-07T21:28:00.000-06:00

After spending nearly the entire weekend in bed battling a stomach virus, I slept by myself in the basement last night so both Chris and I could get a decent night's rest. I awoke at 3am STARVING, warmed up a small bowl of leftover beef and noodles, and turned on the TV. It's a known fact that the quality of television programming drops exponentially after midnight, but this particular advertisement had me silently shaking with laughter.

If this six-minute workout was REALLY AND TRULY effective, every male over the age of 13 would be as ripped as the models.

What's Wrong with this Picture?

2011-11-04T16:52:00.000-05:00

Given the ~~company's~~ companies' name, I suppose it would be difficult for a copy editor to notice the grammatical error.

Dear Lands' End: STOP DEFILING THE ENGLISH LANGUAGE.

P.S. This is a lame excuse for your ongoing use of that ridiculous apostrophe, though I appreciate the attempt. Another interpretation: you recognize that you have a problem and failed to correct it. That's not good customer service.

P.P.S. We love your winter coats!

Week 7, Day 3: The Low Point

2011-10-31T21:22:00.000-05:00

I wrote this on Monday, September 19. It was a bad weekend. I spent a lot of money on Kindle books. I am happy to report that I've stopped visualizing my food as puke. Good times. I took great joy in dumping the progesterone supplements in the bin at National Prescription Drug Take Back Day last Saturday.

I saw the midwife last week and got a quick peek at the Jedi! He/She is growing right on schedule and quite handsome (I'm sure the little tail will go away soon)! The midwife prescribed me a progesterone supplement. My progesterone levels are OK, but a little lower than she'd like for them to be...so abundance of caution, etc etc.

I agreed without question and started taking them Friday night.

And spent the entire weekend in bed convinced I was dying.

The side effects of progesterone, it turns out, are morning sickness ON STEROIDS. I feel like the day after your fever breaks when you have the flu. Mentally clear, physically decimated. I have NO appetite. I don't want to eat. When I look around the kitchen for something to eat, I imagine that particular food as vomit in my toilet...making cupcakes with neon frosting a fantastically Sad Choice now and forevermore. I can't poop. The nausea isn't too bad, but only because the midwife also gave me something for that since, prior to the horrors of the progesterone, the nausea was kicking my butt. I'm pukey. I'm sad. I've been a worthless wife and mom. My house is a shithole. My boobs hurt. I can't even look at dairy products without gagging.

I called this morning and got permission to wean myself off this nasty shit over the next week. And then I ate an entire can of chicken noodle soup.

Pregnancy is SO weird.

Week 5, Day 6: It Begins

2011-10-26T21:19:00.000-05:00

This post was written on September 6; Week 5, Day 6 of pregnancy 2.0. My morning sickness began with a breakfast of chocolate chip cookies the day before. It didn't relent until later in September.

I really wish someone would pay me to write song parodies.

(To the tune of The Sound of Silence)

Hello nausea, my old friend

You've come to fuck with me again

There was a tingling softly creeping

Went away as I was dry heaving

And the Werther's, I was sucking in my mouth

Seemed to help

Within my queasy tummy

Of all the concerts I've attended at the Qwest Center in Omaha (5 to be exact), Simon and Garfunkel was the only one that did not feature the distinct aroma of marijuana.

Are you as surprised by this as I am?

Baby 2.0: The Jedi

2011-10-22T15:08:00.001-05:00

Baby 2.0 (code name "Jedi") is expected to arrive around Star Wars Day, May 4, 2012!!

Let's get a few things out of the way:

How are you feeling?

Great. At 12+ weeks, the misery of The First Trimester has faded away. I was *really* sick during the month of September...until I woke up one morning, and POOF! It was gone.

Will you find out whether you're having a Princess Leia or a Luke Skywalker?

We will around Christmas.

Have you told Callum?

He knows. We didn't have some sort of sit-down, heart-to-heart, come-to-Jesus type of meeting because, well...he's 2. He knows that Mommy has a baby in her tummy, and it helps that two of his daycare teachers had babies in the past 6 months. He's convinced that he's getting a baby sister, but I think that's due in large part to the fact that his BFF will be getting a baby sister in January.

Any weird cravings or food aversions?

OH. HELL. YES. Just the THOUGHT of dairy in its pure form (e.g. milk, slice of cheese, cup of yogurt) makes me gag. This also makes me very sad - I LOVE ME SOME DAIRY. I'll probably have to bust out the calcium supplements...unless they'll encourage the passing of another kidney stone. I have an OJ and Sausage McMuffin every morning. I really enjoy bean soup. I cannot stand the smell of bell peppers.

Was this planned?

You'd be surprised by the number of people who think this is an appropriate question. What do you think?

Are you excited?

There's only one correct answer to this question, so why even ask it?

Have you seen the doctor yet?

No. I'm seeing a midwife. She and two other midwives (all are CNMs) are part of an OBGYN practice (not my previous OB's practice). Midwives specialize in normal pregnancy and birth. She will labor with me throughout my time at the hospital. I can't tell you how much I look forward to that! If we run into problems (e.g. assisted delivery, C-section), the OB on call will take over. My labor and delivery experience with Callum wasn't all that great, and I look forward to having continuous expert labor support. Using a midwife does not mean I will have a drug free birth...though the promise of the whirlpool tub immediately following delivery if I DO forgo an epidural sounds heavenly...right now.

Can you poop?

I can. And the farts aren't nearly as lethal this time...yet.

I have written a few posts over the past 12 weeks that remain unpublished. I hope to post them over the next few days to bring you up to speed on all the excitement in my uterus!

They Don't Grow on Trees? WTF?!?!

2011-10-05T21:22:00.000-05:00

Oh, Two!

2011-09-21T21:45:00.000-05:00

When Callum was born, and we were getting used to each other, and failing mightily at nursing, and waking at weird hours, and pooping our pants, and suffering from entirely normal but occasionally overwhelming anxiety...well, why didn't you all tell me about age 2?*

Age 2 is a RIOT. Age 2 blurts out things like:

I love my mom. (You bet your ass he got a pony after that!)

I tooted on your hand.

Age 2 requests songs and then sings along, and nearly brings you to tears when he requests the one song you've been singing to him since he was a newborn (Barges, if you must know).

Age 2 wants everyone to get post-potty sticker.

Age 2 wants to wear his firetruck shirt EVERY DAY.

Age 2 describes small things as "tiny" - Tiny Target, tiny boots (tiny boots = socks rolled down), tiny poop.

Age 2 is all hat and no saddle. Callum and I started "mommy** and me" swimming lessons at the Y last week. At the first session, he clung to me like a little monkey for the entire class. He wouldn't look at his teacher, wouldn't attempt floating, and would barely let his feet touch in the 18-inch section of the pool. He was more interested in the "Big Red" clock and the slides. But if you asked him about it the next day, he'd tell you he went swimming at the Y, and that he'll go back next Tuesday and DO IT AGAIN, and that teacher Marissa is his friend and "I love her.***"

Sure enough, we had a blast last night! He swam with his teacher, floated (with my assistance) on his tummy and back, and kicked his legs! Next week, we plan to work on 1) not drinking the pool water and 2) jumping off the side!

Age 2? Yes, this is fun.

*Yeah, yeah, yeah. I know you're not supposed to "wish it all away," but frankly, mothering a newborn, while special in its own right, can be downright miserable when you're in thick of it.

**What the hell was I thinking?

***He loves a lot of things lately...clothes, colors, certain sports teams, family members, Legos, etc.

Alice the Camel Has...Poop Humps?

2011-09-02T20:37:00.002-05:00

What better way to return to blogging than with this gem of an email I received this morning (names removed to protect the innocent):

During circle time Teacher asked the kids what a camel stores in his humps. With the most serious face Callum says, "Poop". Teacher explained that they store water. Callum's response a smile and "Oh" :)

Yep. That's my kid, and he inherited my obsession with poop. Sorry Chris.

Solicited Advice Welcome

2011-07-20T21:04:00.003-05:00

Our topic for today: how to curb the scratching, pinching, clawing, and biting a certain two-year-old boy inflicts on his mother (but not his father). The boy in question bit my thigh unprovoked while I was cleaning up the kitchen this evening. It broke the skin and bruised immediately and hurt A LOT.

I've tried to not react, other than a stern "no thank you." It appears to have ZERO effect.

Talk amongst yourselves.

Nerd Alert!

2011-07-05T20:24:00.003-05:00

WOW. Don't think I've ever gone THIS long without updating my blog. So much for turning my hobby into a second day job. Of course, that would require readers other than blood relatives. I have plenty of excuses. For example:

It's summer, so we spend a lot of our post-supper time outside. Once we get Callum bathed and in bed, there's tidying to do (doesn't mean I do it, I'm just saying that it sometimes needs to be done), and at the end of a long day, I'm tired and have nothing more to say.
June was one of Those Months. Busy at work, busy at home...I was happy to see July begin, even if it was 102 degrees outside.
My attention span rivals Callum's.
General summer malaise.
Facebook and Twitter.
Harry Potter (more on that later).

I credit my high school's wrestling coach with this bit of wisdom:

Excuses are like assholes. Everyone has them, and they all stink.

So back to Harry Potter. I officially hopped on the HP bandwagon in 1997 or 1998. At the time, I worked at the reference desk at K-State's Hale Library (back when it was new and shiny and food and drink were verboten), and several of my librarian co-workers recommended HP. It was summer...I had nothing else to do...and I think I finished the Philosopher's Stone (book 1) in one sitting and was DYING to read the rest. I quickly caught up to Goblet of Fire (book 4).

Devoted Anglophile that I am, I was delighted when Chris purchased the British version of the first four books for me! I eagerly awaited the publication of books 5, 6, and 7, and pre-ordered them from Amazon UK, even though it meant waiting an extra day or two to begin reading. And yes, I was one of Those People who stayed up all night and might have taken the day off from work to finish a book. (Feel free to judge me.) Once the movies were released, I decided to wait until I had finished reading all of the books until I would watch any of the movies, even though many trusted sources assured me the movies were in keeping with the spirit of the books.* I did not want my imagination of Harry Potter's world to be influenced by the imagery of the movies.

The last book was written in 2007. This summer, I finally decided to pop in a movie, except I wanted the extra challenge of having recently read the book. So, since Memorial Day (I don't remember when I started, exactly), I've watched four Harry Potter movies, and I'm about 30% of the way through Half-Blood Prince (book 6). My goal is to finish the books (all 3,421 pages) and movies (approximately 16 hours) in time to see Deathly Hallows, Part 2 in an actual movie theater! Bonus points if I can make it to the movie's premiere next week!

I won't further bore you by reviewing the movies one by one. Suffice it to say, 1 and 2 were dreadfully slow though true to the books; 3 was dreadfully slow and deviated too far from the book, and 4 was FABULOUS! The biggest surprise of all: I've got the hots for Severus Snape.

Now, if you'll excuse me, I have some reading to do.

*The book is always better than the movie. ALWAYS. Exceptions: The Devil Wears Prada; Sideways.

An Update in Haiku

2011-06-09T21:13:00.002-05:00

I killed a squirrel

Ran it over with my car

I barely noticed

Unsure of its death

I saw it in the rear view

Mirror...it was dead

Fashion designers

Who make control top panties

Should be reminded

Those with muffintop

Might also have fat asses

Needing coverage

My cheeks were dangling

Far below my underwear

UNCOMFORTABLE!

I've been waking up

At 5:30 every morn

I do not know why

Shh! Please don't tell Chris!

He'll make me tend to Callum

Who's waking at 6

I prefer to fake

Sleep or doze til 6:30

Or even later

Reading Hunger Games

Addictive. Interesting.

Better than Twilight.

It's almost Friday!

WOO! WOO! WOO! WOO! WOO! WOO! WOO!

I love the weekend.

Gratitude

2011-06-01T22:08:00.004-05:00

All last week, I had a post brewing in my head how I was struggling to cope on my own for 6 days while Chris was traveling and Callum was sent home sick from school except he wasn't really sick-sick, he just barfed once but had to take a mandatory sick day the next day, and how he's been sleeping like a newborn (ARGH!) and waking several times a night and I've been SWAMPED at work, and holy shit my life is so overwhelming but at least I can find humor in some of this...

And then I learned that a friend's husband has been deployed for a year. She has two children a year or so older and younger than Callum.

And a week of single parenting a delightful healthy child and knowing my husband is safe and communicating with him several times a day...didn't really seem like something to whine about - funny or otherwise.

Today, I choose an attitude of gratitude.

Poop Emergency Decoy

2011-05-23T22:00:00.003-05:00

You know what's great about shopping at Target with a 2-year-old who's repeatedly trying to remove your shirt so he can jab his finger into your belly button? When people see the two of you making a beeline towards the family bathroom at the front of the store, people assume the 2-year-old has or soon will poop in his pants.

Nine Three Five Three

2011-05-18T20:31:00.003-05:00

You know, if someone hadn't kept me awake from 12:30 to 4:30 last night, and if I hadn't spent over an hour getting that someone to fall asleep tonight, it would have taken me less time to demonstrate that indeed this experiment works on someone's toy phone.

I am Hungry for Meatloaf.

2011-05-10T20:49:00.004-05:00

I am not nearly as organized and on top of things as I would like for you to believe. Sometimes I misplace things FOR YEARS. YEARS!

I am currently on the hunt for my granny's handwritten meatloaf recipe. Meatloaf + mashed potatoes + creamed peas = TEH AWESOME. I last saw the recipe in the second drawer of my old desk next to a ticket stub from a Dave Matthews Band concert I attended in July 2008. At some point in the past three years, I even purchased meatloaf ingredients.* That can of tomato paste is still lingering in the pantry. The recipe is not:

in my new desk
in my old desk
in the cupboard where I keep cookbooks and loose recipes
in the dining room server
in my family recipe box
in my underwear drawer
in my nightstand
in the junk drawer
in my other junk drawer
in my jewelry cabinet where I keep weird things
in Chris's nightstand

I don't know where else to look, and I will have to call my granny to get the recipe again. BUT: I am not ready to admit defeat just yet.

Other things I've lost:

Light blue socks from Callum's first birthday present from Chris and me. They came in a pack of three, but only the green and the dark blue ever made it to Callum's sock drawer.

Serving fork that matches the butter knife and sugar spoon. Last seen in Stillwater, Oklahoma.

Two letters my other grandma wrote me shortly before her death. I don't remember where I found them, and I think, but I'm not 100% certain, I finally stuck them in our safe deposit box.

A rosary my mom gave me at my wedding shower (she had carried it at her wedding). It's special because of that, but also because one of its decades has only 8 beads (which: SNAP!). We found it a gazillion years later wrapped in a small box in MY MOM'S wrapping paper box.

I've been known to stash special things in the weirdest places. Where else shall I look?

*That happened a lot when I was pregnant with Callum. I'd buy ingredients for foods I never, ever had the energy to prepare. It seems tomato paste NEVER expires.

I....Two!

2011-05-02T20:45:00.002-05:00

Happy Birthday, Callum!

The Boy Who Lived*

2011-04-29T22:16:00.003-05:00

Poor Callum. He had an accident on the playground at day care on Friday morning and has three stitches in his forehead. It will scar, though we're not yet sure whether it will be in the shape of a lightning bolt (doubtful). He was such a brave boy at the doctor's office. We are so thankful our regular doctor was able to work us instead of making a trip to LincCare or the ER.

We spent the rest of Friday at home. Callum was tired, Mommy (oh yeah, I'm "Mommy" now) was a little emotional, and Daddy had work to do. We decided to head over to HyVee at 5:30 to participate in the balloon drop I'd see advertised there the night before. Callum LOVES balloons; he calls them "bah-koo." The balloons dropped at 5:30:01. We arrived at 5:30:10. BIG DISAPPOINTMENT. At least we got a free balloon and saw Lil Red!

Here's a picture from this weekend. Birthday celebrations with both sets of grandparents, and I can't wait for Callum to wake up in the morning to see the water table we got him! HOW IS HE 2 YEARS OLD?!?!

*It's a Harry Potter reference and not indicative of the severity of the wound.

Callum and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Peacock

2011-04-25T21:15:00.003-05:00

Callum and I spent the weekend in Great Bend and visited the zoo with Grandpa Dan and Grandma Nan. Our first stop - a preening peacock. He dutifully showed off his extravagant tail feathers, and then loudly and violently squawked at another peacock nearby, scaring the bejeezus out of Callum and Grandpa! Callum spent the rest of the weekend telling us about his near-death experience with the "cock-cock." Each retelling was more dramatic and scarier than the last. This version was caught on camera:

Oh that face!

Beware the wrath of cock-cocks!

It Was a Dark and Stormy Night...

2011-04-19T21:33:00.003-05:00

Our family successfully co-slept for about an hour this morning!

Way before Callum was ever born, Chris and I were fairly certain sleeping with babies would not be safe or comfortable for us. I like heavy covers pulled up to my chin; he flails a lot (early on, I awoke to him punching me a few times). After sharing a room with Callum for one night, I knew he'd never sleep with us. He was a noisy newborn, I was dealing with crushing (though entirely normal) postpartum anxiety, and well, it was just best for us to have some space. Aside from a few naps, Callum has always slept (well!) in his crib across the hall.

We still like to spy on him with the video monitor.

The first loud thunderstorm of spring rolled through this morning about 4:30 - lots of lightning, hail, rain, and wind, though very little big thunder. Something awoke us all simultaneously; when I checked on Callum, he was just standing in his crib completely bewildered by the noise and the flashing. Not upset, not particularly scared. Just befuddled. He and I rocked until the worst of the storm had passed...and until my bladder nearly burst. Chris took over in the rocker, but Callum told him he wanted to lie down in our bed. (Probably not his exact words...)

Selfishly,we sometimes bring him in on weekend mornings with hopes of resting for just a few more minutes, but he usually perks up and wants to play after 30 seconds. This morning, however, he settled in and fell asleep once he got comfortable with his bah-ku (pillow; he also call balloons bah-ku), ruff-ruff (stuffed dog he took a hankering to just yesterday), soft blanket, and three pacifiers. Amazingly, Chris and I fell asleep too!

We awoke to Callum's jabbers and giggles...so sweet and peaceful. I could get used to it (the sharp elbow to the unsupported boob...not so much)!

Here's hoping for another stormy night soon...

Tidbits

2011-04-18T21:49:00.005-05:00

For those of you who missed it on Facebook, I uncovered a relic from Chris's graduate school past: a piece of paper dated AUGUST 26, 1994! I think it might have been his first day of grad school. Let's not talk about how or why that particular piece of paper (and 1,000 others just like it) moved 4 times in 3 states in less than 9 years.

I made some AWESOME banana muffins tonight. More muffintop for my muffintop, please! I cannot cook worth a damn, but baking? Baking I can do.

Actual phone conversation I had with my doctor's office today:

Me: Hi, I’d like to schedule a two-year checkup for my son.

Scheduler: What’s his date of birth?

Me: May 2, 2009.

Scheduler: And this is for a two-year checkup?

Me: Yes.

Scheduler: So he’ll be two on May 2?

Me: [rolls eyes] Yes.

For my friends with girl-children: do they laugh at their toots? Did they when they were 2?

For my non-family members: do the children in your family laugh at their toots? Did they when they were 2?

Pull Your Finger Out of Mommy's Nose

2011-04-09T21:27:00.003-05:00

Bubble machine in the fiercely blowing wind: $6.99

Water bottle for wacky morning hair used as non-violent water gun: $1.49

Almost-two-year-old son repeatedly sticking his finger in my nose to remove an errant ~~booger~~ flake of dry skin: priceless.

It appears the boy has inherited his mother's knack...if not tact...for pointing out wild hairs, boogers, food in teeth, and other embarrassing facial details. He will also worry obsessively about hangnails and dangling strings from clothes.

I call that attention to detail.

Am Official Cake Wrecks Henchperson!

2011-04-07T20:09:00.002-05:00

Do you all remember this half-birthday/Valentine's Day abomination?

It was featured on Cake Wrecks today!!

Thanks, Jen!

YAY for Spring!

2011-04-03T22:28:00.002-05:00

There's a KimmyGoat-sized (read: ginormous) indentation in my backyard where I LAID OUT in the sun for almost an hour today and read my Kindle! Just like a beached whale prudently covered in shorts and a t-shirt (unlike our neighbor who needs to cover up her leathery belly)!

The winter dregs have vanished!

A Boy and His Breakfast

2011-03-31T21:08:00.002-05:00

I received the following email from one of Callum's teachers awhile back:

Good morning! A good Callum story for you :) We sit down to eat breakfast, have time to take a couple of bites and the fire alarm goes off. I grab my clip board, Callum, and another child and head for the door. Callum is screaming because I had the nerve to rip him away from his muffin and banana :) He cries the whole 5 minutes we are outside and as soon as [the director] gives the all clear to go inside he takes off for the door to make sure his breakfast is still there. He was much relieved to find everything still at his spot :)

This and That...

2011-03-21T21:24:00.003-05:00

I dreamed a scent last night. Specifically, dog poop. Most of the dream had fizzled when I awoke; all I remember is that someone tracked dog poop into Callum's room. I could smell it in my dream. Either that or my bedmate farted. I'm pretty sure it was the dream though. Chris, Callum, and I spent part of yesterday afternoon at the park barking at dogs and their owners, most of whom had a plastic bag tucked in a pocket.

Word's auto-correct function kicked my butt - at work. How would you complete this sentence? "...encourage teachers to demonstrate their ______ for science."

I meant to type "excitement" in the blank.

I typed something that was not "excitement."

Word auto-corrected to "excrement."

The fun never ends around here.

Poopin' With Myself

2011-03-12T12:46:00.002-06:00

Potty training.

I knew it would involve a fair amount of sharing my pooping and peeing expertise with Callum especially since Chris is VERY MODEST about the goings on in his bathroom. I was not, however, prepared for a command poop performance complete with an audience.

After supper Thursday night, I had to poop. Since Callum gets upset sometimes when I leave the room, I sneaked upstairs quietly to take care of my business. Unfortunately, he noticed I was gone, and there was much wailing and gnashing of teeth before I begrudgingly let him in the bathroom. He demanded to sit on his potty chair so I could read him Everyone Poops for the gazillionth time this week. Trying to remove a squirmy boy's pants and diaper and keeping your butt on the toilet is not easy, and poor embarrassed Chris had to get in on the action. He averted his eyes the entire time.

All this commotion gave me stage fright. I haven't had stage fright since my freshman year of college when I had to learn how to poop in the communal dorm bathroom. I cleaned myself up, let Callum do the flushing honors (we were both a bit disappointed as we waved bye-bye), and resumed reading Everyone Poops until the second wave hit me. I called Chris in for reinforcements (it was URGENT), and he had the audacity to suggest I run downstairs to complete my mission rather than use his bathroom located a mere 10 feet away.

I ignored his advice. :-)

Beautiful Day!

2011-02-28T22:06:00.004-06:00

Today was a great day...not because of anything I did, or didn't do, or any particular good luck I had. My day was boring, routine, typical, normal, and slightly scattered as usual. But, I had the privilege in sharing and celebrating others' joy!

Congratulations to Callum's "old" daycare teacher Jen who learned she's having a baby boy this summer! She will be a fabulous mom!

Congratulations to my friend DOCTOR Emily, who successfully defended her dissertation this afternoon! She kicks history's ass!

Happiness for My People!

The Would-be Burglar

2011-02-18T04:18:00.003-06:00

Good morning! Why yes, it IS still the middle of the night by my standards, and yet, here I am blogging. PEOPLE: I could run a marathon at this hour! A MARATHON! BWAH HA HA HA HA!

Chris and I were sound asleep at 4am, when I thought I heard something hit our house. I heard it again; it was definitely deliberate noise-making. I looked outside and saw a person standing in the driveway, holding a push broom and dragging it down the roof of our porch (we have a two story house) while a white Ford Taurus was idling in the street. I woke Chris up and decided we should turn on our bedroom light, as maybe that would be enough to scare the would-be burglar. I then went downstairs, HEART POUNDING, and turned the porch light off and on really fast. It stopped the noise, but I didn't hear anyone drive off.

Chris came downstairs a minute later to tell me he saw "the problem." Turns out the would-be burglar also delivers our Wall Street Journal and had tossed today's newspaper on the roof and was using the broom to get it down. Chris saw him give up and toss another newspaper on our porch and then drive off.

I appreciate the effort to retrieve the newspaper; I really do. But seriously? SERIOUSLY? Taking a broom to someone's roof at 4am can get you shot, not to mention scaring the BEJEEZUS out of the homeowners.

And now I'm very likely up for the day; too much adrenaline coursing through my veins to fall back to sleep.

As it turns out, Facebook gets awfully quiet after 10pm.

No More Snuggles

2011-02-16T19:59:00.004-06:00

Callum has deemed himself too much of a big boy to continue snuggling with his mama before bedtime. He BARELY tolerates reading a book with me; by the time I close it, he's pointing at his bed, demanding to lie down by himself. Thankfully, he lies quietly and eventually drifts off to sleep.

I KNOW this is a step forward - little boys who fall asleep on their own can soothe themselves back to sleep at 3am. We haven't been up with Callum AT ALL since he recovered from his last ear infection. Everyone is sleeping wonderfully! THIS IS A GOOD THING.

STILL. A little warning would have been nice, son.

Famous Ones Include "The Royal"

2011-02-13T14:51:00.005-06:00

Happy Half-Birthday, Chris! 28.5 never looked so good!

What? You don't celebrate half-birthdays in your family?!?

Yeah, well, technically neither do we.

Chris does, though, and my side of the family gamely plays along sending cards and presents. I'd like to believe this ritual stems from having a summer birthday not easily celebrated with classmates in grade school, but sadly, that's not the case.

My husband has up and invented a day to celebrate himself. PATHETIC.

Here's a picture of Chris's custom-ordered half-birthday cake from 2010. I was with my mom when she ordered it from HyVee. She specifically requested that it say "Happy One-Half Birthday Chris." This is what she got:

We call that a cake wreck around here (also, I love how there's no exclamation point...as though we might have drolly wished him a happy half-birthday, which...oh, right).

Fast forward to today. Without my folks in town, I had to be the sole organizer of the half-birthday festivities. I wandered around HyVee hoping for one of their half bundt cakes or half apple pies. Instead, I found this:

For the record, I DID NOT custom order this artful cookie. It was on display in the HyVee bakery AS IS. The woman cackling maniacally in the bakery? Yep, that was me. Chris, however, was disappointed. Likening himself to Christmas babies, he suggested that next year I refrain from combining his half-birthday with Valentine's Day.

And I recommended he shove that cookie halfway up his ass.

Because I Can't Finish a Thought ANYWAY...

2011-02-04T15:50:00.002-06:00

Friday. Bullet points, BABY.

My snot has been a cheery spring green for 2 weeks...in direct contrast with the snow and ice and muck outside. Sinus infections are SO. MUCH. FUN.
Callum has been sick too - ear infection while Chris was in South Carolina (when I nearly lost my mind) and Mystery Virus this week...which included a graceful cookie-toss at 3:45am a couple nights ago. I was mostly spared.
People who like winter, and I mean REALLY like winter either A) have no children or B) have nowhere to go. I hate winter. I hate placing my life in the hands of asshat drivers. I can appreciate the beauty of freshly fallen snow, but I don't have to like it.
Between holidays, snow, and sick days, I have not worked a complete 40-hour week since early December.
Tried to watch Oprah 2 days in a row. Both episodes sucked.
I fell off the exercise wagon...though, let's face it, I was barely hanging on to it before. Maybe next week.
I saw Bo at Starbucks yesterday.
My knuckles are RAW.
Am thankful for shelter from the cold and wind...even if the air in said shelter was last freshened in September 2010.

Happy weekend. Dr. Phil is on...and I HAVE TO CHANGE THE CHANNEL MY EARS!!

Stinky Jar

2011-01-27T21:21:00.004-06:00

Just heard this song on the radio this evening...and thought the chorus was referring to "collecting a jar of FARTS."

Pop music sucks. Has it always been this bad?

Three Day Weekend with Mama in Charge

2011-01-17T21:15:00.003-06:00

With Chris preparing for an upcoming business trip and needing some quiet time at home in order to practice a seminar presentation, Callum and I spent much of the weekend out and about. Thank God for clear roads, decent weather, a classmate's birthday party, and Super Target.

I think being a full-time-stay-at-home-mom is a tough job. That's not to say I couldn't do it, I just recognize that it's hard being the entertainer-in-chief and resisting the urge to plop the child(ren) down in front of the TV. I'm sure stay-at-home-moms and their kids find a routine and a rhythm that works most of the time.

They sure as hell don't give bonuses and promotions for that, do they?

Callum attended his first birthday party at an indoor playground that included a small gym for shooting baskets, where I asked him to stop licking his balls. Yes. Out loud. CALLUM: STOP LICKING YOUR BALLS. Good news: I was referring to the two mini-basketballs he was trying to carry. Bad news: I don't know where those balls had been, but my kid licked them.

I had the privilege of changing two public poopy diapers - one at the party, the other at the library not 5 minutes after we arrived. I was so embarrassed for Callum both times, mostly because A) he stunk to high heaven, and B) his mama was not terribly discreet when attempting to discern the source of the stink.

Possible upside of a mild case of diaper rash: Callum now points at his diaper when he's poopy.

Super Target TWO DAYS IN A ROW. DOUBLE SUPER TARGET! WHAT DOES IT MEAN?

It means that I am batshit crazy.

Found a decapitated rabbit on the sidewalk today. Its body was nearby in the grass. We...turned around. God only knows what other sorts of wonders of nature lurk under the blanket of snow.

Pants Pissing-ly Funny. Literally.

2011-01-11T21:11:00.005-06:00

We had a snow day yesterday (SQUEE!). I received the following email:

From: [name changed to protect the innocent]
Sent: Monday, January 10, 2011 8:28 AM
To: Kimberly
Subject: Blood Drive Canceled

The __________ 1/10/11 blood drive has been cancelled due to weather.

Please contact __________ about the reschedule date for this drive.
Thank you for your support and we are sorry for any incontinence.

Goodbye, Fatty

2011-01-07T20:58:00.003-06:00

I weigh 155 pounds.

My BMI is 26.6, placing me solidly in the "overweight" category.

I can no longer wear some of my POST pregnancy pants.

I have not exercised regularly since graduating from high school 15 years ago.

I lost 20 pounds during one extremely stressful month several years ago.

My 2011 goal is to lose 25 pounds HEALTHFULLY by June 30.

I will maintain a food journal and will endeavor to consume approximately 1500 calories daily.

I will drink 64 ounces of water daily.

I will exercise for 30 minutes daily.

I will not drink pop.

I will not drink more than one grandenonfatnowhipmochaforKim per day.

I will win $1,526 for being the Biggest Blogging Loser.

I will publicize my goals so my people can hold me accountable.

The Rules About Christmas Music

2010-12-20T21:35:00.005-06:00

It should come as no surprise to you that I have Very Strong Opinions about Christmas music. Behold:

Christmas songs written after 1980 ARE CRAP.*
Sacred music = NOT CRAP. EVER.
White Christmas should only be sung by Bing Crosby or a choir.
Christmas songs were not meant for saxophones. KENNY G: I AM LOOKING AT YOU.
The shoes? STOP. That was an email forward from the 90s. No one has written a song about Sigmund.
Also, Gloria Estefan? SHUT UP.
They don't know it's Christmas in Africa because not everyone in Africa celebrates Christmas. This is not a reason to feel sorry for Africans.

Trust me. I have more rules, I just can't think of them. But when I do, I'll update. Feel free to add your rules to the comments. Oh, and sorry if I bag on your favorite Christmas song or artist. Just because you have bad taste doesn't mean we can't still be friends.

Oh, and if you are a radio station that has declared itself an "all Christmas" station for the final six weeks of the year, could you include some Jesus music please? Who exactly will you offend with a little Silent Night or Joy to the World or What Child is This?

YOU ARE A CHRISTMAS STATION.

THE NONBELIEVERS ARE LISTENING TO NPR.

CHRISTMAS IS A CHRISTIAN HOLIDAY, NOT A SECULAR TRIBUTE TO EXCESSIVE COMMERCIALISM AND THE VAGARIES OF WINTER WEATHER.

But for Jesus's birth, no one would care if the weather was frightful or be building a snowman in a winter wonderland or traveling to Dixie's southern shore BECAUSE WE WOULD ALL BE TOO COLD.

Merry Christmas.

* Exception: Christmas Song by Dave Matthews Band. It is not in rotation on the local Christmas stations, so you've probably never heard it. How can you argue with Jesus as a "giggling dribbling baby boy?"

Smoking and Littering

2010-12-08T21:06:00.003-06:00

Dear Woman Who Was Smoking Outside of Bruegger's Bagels This Afternoon And Put Out Her Cigarette on the Sidewalk Instead of the Ashtray Ten Feet Away,

Thanks for sullying your lungs AND my community with your filth. People like you are the reason my taxes are so high.

Kind regards,

The Woman Inside Bruegger's Bagels Who Witnessed the Smoking and Littering and Directed Stink-Eye Your Way and Then Giggled When You Tried to Walk Through a Window That You Thought Was a Door

P.S. Karma's a bitch.

P.P.S. You are young enough to know better.

The School Persona

2010-12-07T20:04:00.003-06:00

Chris and I attended parent-teacher conferences today. So fascinating to learn about what Callum does at school and how he interacts with his teachers and friends. For example:

Sharing: Often takes toys that others are playing with

Learning colors, shape and body parts: Sits well at circle time. Very excited when we sing. (and even does the motions!)

Playing nicely with our friends: Likes to be near others

Following directions: If asked to do something, he almost always listens

I wonder if these personality traits will change much (though here's hoping he learns to wash his hands)...

He sleeps on a cot now and can go to sleep without anyone rocking him or patting his back (SO. NOT. TRUE. AT. HOME.). When he awakens from his nap, he sits quietly on his cot until he has permission to get up. He is very familiar with lunch time routine (lunch, wash hands, then up to the loft for circle time, diaper change, nap). He can crawl up the slide and go down all by himself (which makes him laugh!). He'll eat everything on his plate except his vegetables (that's my boy) and loves to chug (yes, also my boy) his milk. He and his friends Elinor and Henry like to chase each other around outside. He got the giggles today during a walk and no one knows why.

He can say "truck" "dog" "me" "mama" "dada". He points out trucks in his books. He smiles on command, gives hugs (OK, more like "head leans"), and will demonstrate "soft touches" if asked. He can do puzzles.

He is a little person with an attitude, opinions, and an infectious laugh and I love him so, so much.

Dave Will Be Fine

2010-12-01T21:27:00.002-06:00

Who the hell is Dave? I'm still not sure. But I'm glad to know he'll be OK.

Earlier this evening, a fire truck showed up down the street. Curious/nosy me, I step out on the porch to see what there is to see, greet a neighbor, and feel bad that Callum is asleep and can't see the "TUCK" up close. I see 3-4 firefighters/EMTs/first responders run into a backyard. I smell fireplace, see no obvious flames or need for my assistance, and I go back inside where it's warm.

Just a few minutes ago, there was a soft knock at the door. It's The Neighbor. THAT Neighbor. Every neighborhood has one. In John Grisham's Skipping Christmas, it was Vic Frohmeyer (the one who orchestrated the annual Frosty raising). Our conversation went something like this:

Me: Hi Neighbor!

Neighbor: Just wanted to let you know that Dave will be OK. I saw you step out when the fire truck was here.

Me: Who is Dave?

Neighbor: Dave lives down the street. (insert lengthy TMI about Dave's health) His wife called 911.

Me: Why the hell did they send a fire truck if an ambulance was needed?

Neighbor: Firetrucks are always the first responders.

Me (with quizzical look thinking WTF?): Thanks for letting me know. Glad he's going to be OK. Have a good night!

FOR THE LOVE.

Flash Mob!

2010-11-30T20:09:00.003-06:00

I want to be part of a flash mob. If you're planning one, will you please invite me? I can sing and dance OK, but what I lack in talent I make up in attitude.

P.S. Happy End of NaBloPoMo! I did it!

Ouch!

2010-11-29T21:10:00.003-06:00

This is what an elbow to the mammaries looks like:

Give Back

2010-11-28T21:40:00.006-06:00

If you are able, may I suggest you participate in some sort of "giving tree" program in your community this Christmas? As a child, I remember carefully selecting a name from the tree at K-Mart or WalMart...usually a girl about my age...or a new mom on the Birthright tree. It continues to be a tradition for my family...a tangible lesson in serving the less fortunate and being very, very thankful for the many blessings in my life.

PajamaGram

2010-11-27T20:30:00.004-06:00

'Tis the season to receive oodles and oodles of unwanted catalogs. Today I received PajamaGram's catalog. Based on the misspelling of my name, my friends at Eddie Bauer kindly shared my name and address.I've heard of PajamaGram (especially as a last minute gift idea)...they'll overnight a cute pajama set to your lucky recipient. Or, if your family is in to it, you can purchase matching holiday-themed pajamas for the clan. Presumably, this makes for excellent photo opportunities on Christmas morning; though, interestingly, none of the adults has Crazy Hair and none of the kiddos have Paci Mouth.

PajamaGram simultaneously horrifies and delights me.

The horrifying:

The Denim Hoodie-Footie

(MY EYES!)

The Family Hoodie-Footie

(WHERE TO BEGIN?)

The delightful:

The Fleece Hoodie-Footie

It has gloves!

The Toddler Dropseat Pajama

(sadly, they make these in family sets as well...that can't be flattering for anyone over 6)

The Crossword Pajama

Do you have a favorite?

Santa's Workshop

2010-11-26T21:01:00.002-06:00

I'm jazzing up a table for Callum's Christmas present.

I think I can handle double-sided tape. Table should arrive next week; I still need to order the fabric. I couldn't buy the table from Ikea directly, but it appears someone near Chicago re-sells it through eBay.

Brilliant.

I'll keep you posted.

The Thanksgiving Letter

2010-11-25T20:50:00.002-06:00

This went viral last year, and it's most definitely worth revisiting this year.

The Thanksgiving Letter.

Happy Thanksgiving!

Dear Blank Please Blank

2010-11-24T20:59:00.002-06:00

This website is Kind of a Hoot. Thought I'd publish a few of my own.

Dear Jeggings,

Ummm...no thank you.

Sincerely, The Pear-shaped Girl

Dear Person Behind Me,

Sorry about those Walking Farts.

Sincerely, Gassy

Dear All-Christmas Radio Station and Fine Retailers Everywhere,

What about me??

Sincerely, Thanksgiving

Dear Cold North Wind,

You blow. Hard.

Sincerely, Frozen Nose

Dear Black Friday,

I'd rather gnaw off my left arm than shop in a store.

Sincerely, Kimmygoat

Dear Sandra Boynton,

We want to be your Personal Penguin.

Sincerely, Toddlers of the World

Dear Bo,

Could you order a triple venti nonfat latte from Starbucks? We'll buy.

Sincerely, ABC and Ed Cunningham

Dear Spanx,

LET ME OUT OF HERE!

Sincerely, Cellulite

Dear God,

Are you there?

Sincerely, Margaret

Dear Pumpkin Pie,

Get in here. NOW.

Sincerely, MAH BELLAY

On the Walls...

2010-11-23T22:51:00.002-06:00

Another NaBloPoMo Twitter writing prompt:

What's on your wall: prints, posters, photos, paintings? What makes you want to hang something up?

This is easy. Practically nothing and nothing.

Dining room: beautiful sketch of the Konza we received as a wedding present that serves as the inspiration for the rest of the room.

Our bedroom: wedding picture...and we just recently noticed how freaking young we look in it. Parenting has aged us.

Callum's bedroom: his first stock certificate - one share of Starbucks (remember when we called him Starbuck?!).

Chris's office: various and sundry Huskerabilia.

I purchased two prints a few weeks ago to hang in our living room. I expect to donate them to Goodwill sometime in 2014. I struggle with "accessorizing" our home; primarily because I hate clutter. Also: I hate poking holes in the wall.

What I'm Wearing

2010-11-22T21:29:00.004-06:00

From NaBloPoMo's Twitter Feed...another writing prompt (yay!):

Tell us about what you're wearing today. Where'd you get your shoes? How long have you had that tie? Is that your grandmother's watch?

White cotton gold toe socks purchased at JCPenney's on December 26, 2007. They are not as cushy as they once were, though they are much cushier than the emergency socks I purchased on our mini-vacation (I forgot to pack socks...which is kind of a problem when you're a germophobe with a hotel reservation).

My most favorite yoga pants EVAH! I have three pairs - 2 black and 1 gray - and I'm wearing the gray tonight. Another superfantastic JCPenney's find. I would wear them to work if I could get away with it.

Hanes Low Rise Briefs: Let it be known that when I find an article of clothing I like, I usually buy it in several colors. These fantastic panties can be found at TarJay and The Walmarts. I think I own 12 pair, though in my defense, they are sold in packs of 3. I'm presently wearing a fine shade of peacock blue. I'm always a bit leery of wearing the bright orange...as though my fat ass needs any help at all drawing attention to itself. Am glad to have solved this underwear quandary.

White, boring, long-sleeved Husker tshirt that began pilling way before its time...bedazzled with a green booger of unknown origin. I'm blaming Callum.

Lavender Columbia fleece jacket found on the Kohl's clearance rack for a measly $13. If fleece had been invented (?) when I was a college student, I can't imagine that I would have worn anything else.

Bra from TarJay. Fits much better than the high priced ones I bought at Von Maur.

Random Bullet Points...AGAIN

2010-11-21T21:13:00.003-06:00

Once again, that flashing cursor taunts me.

Oh the DRAMZ of Husker football! Unsubstantiated rumors abound, thanks in part to Facebook and Twitter. GET A LIFE!
I've been feeding at the trough ALL DAY LONG. At first, I was disappointed with myself, but now I realize I'm just conditioning myself for the holidays.
I'm in charge of the pumpkin pie for Thursday's feast with Chris's family. Mrs. Smith: please don't let me down.
Does anyone actually sleep in a nightgown anymore? I hate them. They get twisted around your legs, and the lower half of your body gets cold because the gown part inevitably gets hiked up around your butt.
Anyone else looking forward to a three-day week?

Simultaneously Funny AND Lame

2010-11-20T20:41:00.005-06:00

Things that are always ALWAYS funny:

1. Poop.

2. Kids wearing adult sunglasses.

And there's your gratuitous kid picture in lieu of actual post. Sorry, NaBloPoMo, quantity over quality, right?

It's Saturday night. The Huskers are on, and I'm thinking about starting a drinking game whereby the participants take a drink every time Bo Pelini appears to say the F word on the teevee. If we'd have started at kickoff, we'd be very VERY drunk right now.

Mmmmm...

2010-11-19T22:16:00.003-06:00

I love donuts.

I love Chris for bringing me donuts for lunch at work.

My pants do not love donuts.

People walking behind me seeing my ass in those pants do not love donuts.

What Others Are Saying...

2010-11-18T22:13:00.003-06:00

NaBloPoMo's Twitter prompt of the day: Link to three posts that you've loved this month written by other people, and tell us why. Well, here goes:

Jennifer at Playgroups are No Place for Children

Turn Me Inside Out

I don't know Jennifer from Adam and only recently started following her blog. But today's post? Yeah, that hit home. I remember that anxiety well...it made it very, very hard to relax...constantly anticipating an unpredictable baby's needs while trying to physically recover from childbirth...when all I wanted to do was sleep...and it was SO SO SO hard to relax...all consuming and overwhelming and I was WAY too hard on myself...I just want to give sad Kimmygoat a hug and hand her a glass of wine and assure her that will, in fact, be OK...actually...WAY BETTER than OK...

Emily at Something Shiny!

Crazy Bag Lady

We too generate one bag of garbage a week. I didn't realize this was weird. We recycle plastics 1-5, cardboard, office paper, glass, tin cans, newspaper, and plastic bags. We also compost (and I am accepting recommendations for how to store that muck in your house because it smells like rotten drunk vomit), use reusable bags at the grocery store (if I can remember them). We cloth diaper. We're environmentally conscious...and not perfect by any stretch.

Alice at Finslippy

Books I'm Saving For My Grandchildren

The crown jewel of Callum's night-night routine is reading a book. He's starting to recognize characters (Sam-I-Am, Willie the Wildcat, the Bunny in Goodnight Moon, Herbie Husker, etc), and he enjoys books while playing (and will often plop down in your lap and expect you to read whatever book he's brought with him). We are big fans of all Sandra Boynton books, Dr. Seuss (especially Dr. Seuss's ABC, Green Eggs and Ham, and One Fish Two Fish Red Fish Blue Fish), Goodnight Moon, and whatever else happens to be lying around. I can't wait to check out some of these new recommendations at the library, especially after we randomly chose some weird fairy tales (UGH).

Ponytails!

2010-11-17T22:37:00.002-06:00

Actual email I received from one of Callum's teachers:

Just wanted to give you the heads up that Melissa was putting all the girls hair in pony tails and Callum came over and kept patting the top of the head so he has one too :)

If it bothers you we won't do it, but we don't want to make him feel left out :)

I assured her it was OK with me! Unfortunately, his ponytail didn't last all day, and by the time he arrived home, it was sorta mohawkish on top.

This isn't his first at-school ponytail.

A few weeks ago, we celebrated "silly week," and that Monday was "crazy hair day." One of Callum's teachers gave the girls silly ponytails, and Callum wanted one too (think unicorn horn). They knew (correctly) I wouldn't mind and were quite surprised when Chris picked up Callum that night!

Stop Looking At Me!

2010-11-16T21:06:00.004-06:00

Dammit. This NaBloMoPo is HARD. I don't have much in the way of original non-TMI thoughts. Instead, I will further embarrass myself:

Spring 1991

7th grade

Angsty.

The hair: HOLY BEJEEZUS. Those bangs! That spiral perm! My hair is naturally straight and very fine. No wonder my first driver's license indicated a height of 5'6".

The shirt: Likely purchased at either Maurices or Brass Buckle. Anyone else remember the sweater cardigans and matching mock turtlenecks with the weird embroidered crest in the middle that you could buy from Maurices?

The arm: Broken in an unfortunate basketball accident when SOME BITCH TRIPPED ME as I was running down the floor. I remember throwing up on the flagpole outside Eisenhower School. That broken arm prevented me from participating in track that spring (shut up - I was a fast runner). This picture might have been taken a couple days after the accident, so perhaps my droll expression is more real pain and discomfort and less teen angst. When my cast was removed, we discovered a band aid in there that had been protecting a floor burn. NASTY.

The jeans: Tight-rolled. Crime against humanity. Are You There God? It's Me, Kimmygoat. Of all the stupid trends I rocked in my youth, please don't let this one come back. EVER.

The socks: I cannot remember the last time I wore non-neutral cotton socks in public. The mauve, of course, coordinated perfectly with my collar and shirt pocket.

The shoes: Eastland boat shoes with the shoelaces curly-Q'd around themselves. Tough look when you have super-narrow feet, but NO ONE actually TIED their shoes. GAWD. [eyeroll]

A Few of My Favorite Blogs...

2010-11-15T20:17:00.003-06:00

Stuff I love:

Campaign for a Commercial Free Childhood

Style Lush

U.S. Consumer Product Safety Commission - recalls and product safety news (I have mine customized for children's products)

People I know in real life:

What else should I be reading?

We Love Lincoln Children's Museum!

2010-11-14T20:17:00.003-06:00

We are so fortunate to live in a community with an excellent children's museum! Callum took his grandparents there this weekend and had a blast!

Look at that smile! He loves driving the fire truck!

Oyez, Oyez, Recruits!

2010-11-13T21:54:00.004-06:00

Chris and I just returned home from a cold and thankfully short Husker football game. To stay warm longer, we agreed to watch the players depart the locker room for the Tunnel Walk rather than proceed directly to our seats.

I highly recommend this experience...especially with an 8-year-old (doesn't have to be YOUR 8-year-old) standing next to you. We recommend lining up while the team is still warming up on the field; that way, you see them twice. If you're a kid, the football players (including starters Ben Cotton, Brandon Kinnie, and even T-Magic himself) will make a special effort to come over and give you a high five.

They definitely don't go out of their way for 32-year-old moms.

Also, you should bring a camera.

We were entertained by the security guard in charge of the locker room entrance. A woman in her 50s with a big purse; she controlled the foot traffic across the Tunnel Walk path. And then, she announced out loud as groups of people officially left the locker room.

OFFICIALS!!!!!

RECRUITS!!!!!

Thankfully, she got out of the way before the team came out. She deserves a Blackshirt for her passion and enthusiasm for protecting the locker room entrance.

TGIF

2010-11-12T21:24:00.002-06:00

That is all. My brain is fried.

It's been a long, long week, and I'm *THRILLED* to see it come to an end!

I am, however, not thrilled about the cold November rain .

Happy weekend!

How You Got Here: Callum's Birth Story...way after the fact

2010-11-11T21:22:00.002-06:00

This post has been brewing for, well, 18 months and 9 days. I love reading others' birth stories; a great paradox of universal and unique. I have started writing Callum's birth story so many times...and I never get very far. And yet, not a day goes by where I don't think about it (of course, when the people around you seem to be having babies at the rate of 1 or 2 a month...). So here goes:

At 41 weeks, my doctor and I decided it was time to induce, and Chris and I were scheduled to arrive at the hospital at 8pm on Saturday, May 2. On Friday night, we ate our last supper at The Oven (ahhh...India!) and made a list of what we could do all day Saturday to pass the time.

"Have a baby" did not make the list.

I awoke at exactly 2am with my first contraction. They were 10 minutes apart; I woke Chris after an hour. He helped me time them...with a stopwatch. The accuracy and precision with which he announced the contractions was endearing and infuriating: "That one lasted 1 minute, 14 seconds, and they were 7 minutes, 33.5 seconds apart!" I was especially annoyed by the beep that would stop the timer and gently suggested a regular silent watch would probably be sufficient for the doctor. Chris also began taking excruciatingly comprehensive written labor notes...which are still lying on my nightstand.

I took a long hot shower - mostly because I reeked of Indian food.

Unlike what we learned in our Lamaze class, those early contractions HURT. A LOT. There was nothing "gentle" or "rolling" or "gradual" about it; these were BANG! like a gong...and then they'd peter out...and then BANG! again. By 5:30am, we met my doctor's criteria for going to the hospital.

It seemed much too soon for a first time mom.

I was dilated to 1.5cm on arrival. They hooked me up to the fetal monitor and made me lie/sit in bed...which is NOT a comfortable position for labor! At 8:30am and 3cm, I requested an epidural. My logic: if it had taken this much effort to get to 3cm, there was no way I'd have the energy to see it through.

The epidural was...weird. I kept announcing my contractions to the room; otherwise, I was convinced the anesthesiologist would render me a quadriplegic. The epidural definitely eased the pain, and I was surprised I could still feel the contractions. It also rendered me a complete boob; I spent the rest of the day in a haze.

At some point in the morning, one of the nurses (I seemed to get a new one every few hours) told us Callum was posterior (e.g. facing up instead of down). This fact never registered with me; no wonder I had such unrelenting back labor from the get-go!

They would turn me every so often - at the time I thought it had to do with Callum's cord being pinched somewhere; more likely, they were probably trying to get him to rotate. I felt like a rotisserie chicken. Chris and I watched the Battlestar Galactica pilot and chatted with the nurses as they came in. I might have dozed.

My labor stalled at 4cm so they gave me pitocin...which Callum didn't like so much. I didn't either.

At 12:30, the doctor broke my water and placed an IUPC on Callum's head to better measure the effect of my contractions. We watched more TV. I dozed a bit.

At 4:11pm, I began pushing. If I was in a haze before; pushing was like roaming some other planet. After two hours, they called my doctor in. He informed us he'd have to use forceps to deliver Callum...and that there would be some, ahem, tearing. (Sorry, TMI.)

And I honestly did not give a shit. (That was earlier in the story. Sorry, TMI again.)

My brain started working again, and I remember most of Callum's birth with incredible clarity. Chris asked the doctor about using the vacuum; the doctor said no, he only uses forceps, and that the only other alternative was to wheel me down the hall for a C-section.

I consented to the forceps, and then he yanked Callum out at 6:19pm.

And they placed him on my chest. Sweet, sweet relief!

We cried and marveled at how tiny he was. The doctor asked us his name...and I think that's truly when we decided on "Callum." Chris said it aloud first. This baby had red hair, and well, he looked like a Callum.

They took him to be weighed and measured...and I got a looksy at the needle the doctor was using to sew me back together. And that image is forever burned in my mind.

I heard the nurses call out "8" and "9" which I assumed to be Apgar scores. I heard the doctor tell the nurses to note that Callum was "asynclitic occiput posterior." How the hell I managed to commit that phrase to memory and understand what it meant...I'll never know...but I gathered it was something nurse trainees don't get to see very often.

Callum's birth was not gentle or peaceful or fun, and according to my lactation consultant, the "trauma" might be one of the main reasons we never got the hang of nursing. Despite my not-so-great-experience, those 16 miserable hours in no way define my relationship with Callum. He is my joy! I grew him...IN MY BODY! That is amazing!

Comments on this post are closed.

Blonde Ambition

2010-11-10T20:25:00.004-06:00

My final dance recital, May 1994.

Madonna was Kind of a Big Deal back then...before she started calling herself Madge and speaking with some vaguely British accent. I wasn't a terribly gifted dancer (tap was my thing, but tap isn't nearly as cool as jazz when you're 15), but I could usually sell it with crazy eyes and a smile.

Ode to a Headband

2010-11-09T21:52:00.002-06:00

Terrycloth! Plastic!

Goody rubbery nubbins!

I love my headbands!

Keep my hair in place

Or rather, out of my face

Sexy? No, they ain't.

Pants Rant

2010-11-08T20:24:00.002-06:00

Dear Dillards, JCPenney, Eddie Bauer, and other fine retail apparel establishments:

Stop frakking around with your pants and invest in some quality control measures! If you sell the same pair of pants in both black and brown, WHY does only one of those colors fit me? Why don't they both fit? Why are they 2 very different lengths? In the last six months, each of you has thwarted my efforts and buying reasonably-priced work pants and jeans. If I find a pair of pants I like, chances are very high I will purchase it in almost every color you sell. Except, by "same pant" you usually mean "also has two leg holes."

And by the way, since when did "average" or "regular" length require 4" heels to avoid hemming? I've had to resort to ANKLE LENGTH, WHICH, UNFORTUNATELY, IS TOO SHORT FOR ME TO WEAR ANYTHING BUT FRUMPY FLATS BECAUSE I AM TIRED OF GETTING MY PANTS HEMMED MULTIPLE TIMES BECAUSE I CAN'T MEASURE THE INSEAM WORTH A DAMN !!!!!!!!!!1111111111111!!!!;AKHJAL8poiahdl;auiyow3ehauif9jbhklasdn

Daylight Savings Should be Banned

2010-11-07T20:36:00.002-06:00

That is all.

My eating and sleeping habits are all messed up. So are Callum's. Chris claims he has rhythm, but I know better.

Here's hoping all the clocks at work are adjusted before I arrive. Remember in school when it would take a few days for all of the classroom clocks to be adjusted? Torture...especially at the end of the day when you were STILL IN SCHOOL after 4pm.

Grrrrrr.

Thanks, Sara!

2010-11-06T20:51:00.003-05:00

Thanks to my real-life friend Sara (What? She's not in your Google Reader? Why the hell not?) for saving me a boatload of $$ at (The?) Gap this afternoon! I got 40% off my purchase PLUS a super-nice cashier who rang me up twice in order to take advantage of my nearly-expired Groupon!

Yay me!

And, thanks to Chris for letting me take a rather impromptu trip to a real (The?) Gap in Omaha while he stayed home with a napping Callum...who woke up during halftime of the most stressful Husker football game of the season. Here's hoping Callum's next word isn't "shit."

He's certainly never heard ME say that.

I Wasn't Always a Bitter Teen

2010-11-05T21:16:00.002-05:00

My thighs, however, have always been that chunky.

Now how about some random bullet points for a Friday night?!?!

I have an unintentional soul patch growing near my ankle. I've always wondered how long my leg hair would grow if I just let it go. And now I know. I'm oddly proud of it.
Tonight is the first official night we'll be sleeping on flannel sheets! I am so excited! I'd use them all year if I Chris would let me.
One Fish Two Fish Red Fish Blue Fish is my newest earworm. Every morning in the shower I find myself reciting it. I have the first 20 pages memorized.
On most days, I start craving my headband and yoga pants by 10am.
I have not painted my fingernails since before Callum was born, and I have the shredded cuticles to show for it. I have this (irrational?) fear that it will chip off and end up in his mouth.

Mother of the Year

2010-11-04T20:28:00.003-05:00

You know what else prevents little boys from sleeping through the night?

An ear infection. OR TWO.

Teen Angst

2010-11-03T20:47:00.004-05:00

Can't you just feel the angst and awkwardness? Every picture of me from this vacation features some version of this face.

Family vacation in southwest Colorado, 1992

Summer before I started high school

Dead Man in a Coma

2010-11-02T21:12:00.004-05:00

For no particular reason this morning, I was reminded of Dead Man in a Coma.

Have I not told you about Dead Man in a Coma? OMGWTFBBQ!?!!1

It was a series of late-1980s theatrical variety shows produced and performed exclusively by my cousins Andrea and Beth and me. Whenever the three of us would get together, we'd perform some sort of show for the rest of the family. It probably didn't help that we were in dance together and would often perform incomplete dance routines for our captive audience. We also incorporated humorous (to us and only us) skits and songs complete with costumes, props, etc, etc. We might have charged admission once or twice, and at least one routine featured fireworks.

Our best and most memorable number was Dead Man in a Coma. I believe it was a duet I performed with Beth, and it included a jaunty stomp with our tap shoes on my aunt's hardwood floor. I remember very little about the song's genesis. I think Beth was singing at song at school about a lotus flower, and we adapted the melody to fit Dead Man in a Coma.

Dead Man in a Coma

tap tap tap tap tap tap

I don't remember a group leaf fall being part of the performance, but nonetheless, here's a photo of us at the height of the Dead Man in a Coma phenomenon (circa 1988):

Falling in to that giant pile of leaves - quite fun, indeed!

Nighttime Antics...

2010-11-01T21:01:00.003-05:00

...that aren't so funny between the hours of 1am and 4am, even when performed by an adorable little redheaded boy:

lying very, very still in the dark with eyes wide open

playing the tambourine

farting aloud

random rounds of enthusiastic applause

flicking door stops (boyoyoyoyoying)

pinching

feigning sleep

waving byebye

giggling

nose-honking

pointing at the ceiling fan

banging on doors

I am not a nice person between midnight and 6am.

The floor in Callum's room is uncomfortable.

I discovered a new set of wrinkles in my forehead at 4:15 this morning.

Chris and I were able to overcome our grumpiness at 7:15am to waken Callum; we might have been a bit too exuberant in welcoming the new day .

I checked out The No-Cry Sleep Solution from the library over my lunch hour and ordered the toddler version through PaperBackSwap (which, apparently sensing my desperation, the owner mailed within 1 hour of my order).

Good night!

Am Awkward

2010-10-27T22:02:00.002-05:00

Standing in line this morning at Starbucks, Jill (aka venti nonfat vanilla latte) complimented me on my cute red ballet slippers. I thanked her, and the rest of the conversation went something like this:

Jill: What brand are they? Are they comfy?

Me: I don't remember, but they are known for having holes in the soles so you can wear them without socks and avoid stinky feet. They are comfy.

Jill: Oh yes, I've heard of those!

Me: Not sure the technology works that well; they reeked in August.

Normal people would not have this conversation. Clearly I need some social skills.

Disappearing Dumpster

2010-10-19T21:41:00.006-05:00

We expect our new roof to be installed any day. When I signed the contract two+ weeks ago, my contact asked me about which side of the driveway to locate the dumpster, and I recommended it be located on "my" side. I guess, stupidly, I expected a phone call or quick email letting me know when they'd show up. Ha. Ha Ha.

Monday morning, 6:30am, nestled in my warm bed, I heard a big truck outside. I was perplexed, as trash day is Tuesday, but I shrugged it off thinking it was a recycling truck or a someone else's roofer. Then a bright light was shining through the window. I peeked out to see a truck delivering a dumpster in the driveway...right behind my car parked in the garage. I ran outside - Medusa hair, dragon breath, sweats, no shoes, no bra - and asked the driver to pick up the dumpster so I could get my car out, as I had been given no notice about the delivery. He graciously picked it up, let me out, and then finished the delivery.

While I was in the shower, the driver returned and hauled away the dumpster! All that's left to prove it was there are two long scratches in the driveway.

A weird way to begin the week. Still no roof.

Sleepytime

2010-10-19T21:05:00.002-05:00

I cannot remember the last time Chris, Callum, and I slept all night in our respective beds. Callum seems to be lonely at least once a night, though a few stern repetitions of "I love you -- lay down -- it's still night-night time" are usually enough to reassure him that we've not flown the coop. Chris is in the third miserable week of a bad cold and has spent most nights sleeping on the couch or the futon in the basement so as not to disturb Callum and me...and so that he can actually get a full night's rest while I deal with Callum's loneliness. I've been sleeping in my own bed (in the middle!!) but handling Callum's wakings. And in the midst of all of this, we took a vacation - Chris and me to Colorado; Callum to Kansas.

After this past weekend, we have some bad habits to break. Friday night, Callum was up 11pm to 1am (VERY unusual for him) and did not go to sleep until I gave up and asked for Chris's help...and then Callum only went to sleep while he could see his dad sitting and lying on the floor. Apparently now Callum thinks he can only go to sleep with Daddy watching him from the floor.

Not that I'm blameless. During that horrid Friday night, I brought Callum to bed with me - something I've never done before (except for a few on-the-couch snoozes when he was a little baby). I have nothing against co-sleeping; it's just not something that works for my family. Friday night, it calmed him down. Saturday night was weird; Callum began his afternoon nap around 3:45pm, and we didn't hear another peep until 3:45am. Since I wasn't ready to get up I thought he might go back to sleep if he snuggled with me. He did, I put him back in his crib at 5am, and he awoke at the usual hour of 7:15. Last night, a pee-soaked baby hung out with me for 2 hours.

I think we're being played.

I value my sleep far too much to be the tough guy at 3am, and the "cry it out" method is just not our style. Any ideas to get our lives back to normal? Callum has been always been a good sleeper - uninterrupted 11-hour nights are the norm for us!

In other sleep-related news...despite my disdain for Daylight Savings time, I can't wait to fall back. The light in my bedroom is exactly the same at 2am, at 4am, and at 7am...which makes it really hard to drag my ass out of bed on time.

Phun with Phlegm...and Millinery, Too

2010-10-15T21:40:00.003-05:00

Two fun stories to end the week on a positive note...

I am 90% over my most recent cold, and all that remains is an occasional rib-shaking, pants-peeing (the miracles of childbirth!) cough. This morning, while meeting with a colleague in my office, I had a brief coughing episode. With no extra hacking effort, I coughed up Mr. Mucus's third cousin...on the sleeve of my sweater...right in front of my coworker who was standing two feet from me.

I *really* hope she didn't see it.

In other news, in addition to using anything and everything as a telephone, Callum enjoys putting things on his head...Legos, paper scraps, socks, trashcans, buckets. For example:

Trying very hard to convince his grandparents that TARP saved Earth's economy.

A ceremonial dumping of the Legos always precedes the wearing of the green bucket.

More Prayers, Please

2010-10-12T21:05:00.002-05:00

Jessica passed on this evening. Such a bright and warm person; she will be missed sorely. Please continue praying for her family and for those who will receive her gift of life.

Prayers, Please.

2010-10-11T20:08:00.002-05:00

Before I regale you with tales of our first child-free vacation, I ask that you please PLEASE pray for my friend and coworker, Jessica Bedient. She and her husband were very seriously injured by a drunk driver in a wreck late Saturday night.

Nakey Time

2010-09-25T20:49:00.003-05:00

Callum has a nasty diaper rash, so after his bath tonight, I let him run around naked for awhile. In the time it took me to grab his diaper and pajamas from the bathroom, he found his little red wagon and was gleefully pulling it around his bedroom.

Nekkid baby pulling a wagon = damned cute. Too bad I didn't get a picture.

Nekkid baby peeing AND pooping on the carpet = not so cute.

Pretty much sums up our day.

Food Experiments

2010-09-19T20:29:00.003-05:00

I am a picky eater. I've gotten better over the years, though there are still many "normal" foods I refuse to eat. Like lettuce. Or any raw vegetable. Steak - regardless of how dead the cow is. Nuts in bread or brownies.

Despite all of this, I am happy to report that over the past two weeks, I have craved...YES, CRAVED...(no, not *that* kind of craving) two undeniably healthy foods. And now, I want to share the good news with you!

1. Chobani Greek Yogurt
OH. MY. GAWD. Yum! One little cup has 25% of your daily allowance of protein! SUCK IT, BEEF! We've tried all the brands available in our area, and hands down, Chobani is THE BEST. So good, in fact, that we have traveled to SuperTarget (1 hour round trip through town) just to buy Greek yogurt. My favorites are pineapple, peach, and strawberry; C likes the vanilla best. At a $1.37 a cup, it's not cheap, but it also never goes to waste like that nasty regular barftastic yogurt (which I only started eating about 5 years ago). Chobani Greek yogurt has no artificial sugars or dyes! THIS MAKES ME VERY HAPPY! Hop on the Greek yogurt bandwagon, kids. YOU WON'T BE DISAPPOINTED!!!

2. Cauliflower
True story: my parents served me cauliflower for supper once when I was a kid...maybe 4 years old. We had a rule that you had to *try* everything on your plate. Well, I put some of that nasty shit in my mouth, chewed it up, and decided there was NO WAY IN HELL I would finish eating it. So I left it in my mouth, and my parents would not let me spit it out. They cleared the table...and I sat there with a mouthful of cauliflower. They washed the dishes...and I sat there with a mouthful of cauliflower. They finally relented...probably because it was my bedtime or something. The point of this story (besides early signs of my stubborn streak): I HATE CAULIFLOWER.

Also, I think cauliflower smells like a funky combination of dirty armpits and ass. And, cauliflower and broccoli were two of the worst gag-inducing odors I smelled when I was pregnant.

Imagine my surprise then, when I added pureed cauliflower into a box of macaroni and cheese AND left out the butter! OH HOLY NIGHT! YUM! CREAMY! Callum and I finished off the whole box at once. AND WE WANTED MORE. AND I MIGHT HAVE BEEN MOVED TO TEARS. I've even made a frozen puree for next time. However, I will continue refusing "plain" cauliflower; the texture is just too weird. After the success with this recipe, I am excited to see whether Jessica Seinfeld has any other tasty recipes in her cookbook!

24 Hours From Now...

2010-09-13T22:30:00.002-05:00

...My ears will be ringing after the Dave Matthews Band concert in Omaha. I will try Randa's secret tip to see if I can score great floor seats!

...I will be exhausted.

...Depending on my neighbors at the concert, I might smell a little...umm...weedy.

...I hope my trifecta of ginormous ~~neck zits~~ mosquito bites will have shrunk to less goiter-like proportions.

...I will hopefully be a little closer to finishing The Girl Who Kicked the Hornet's Nest

...I will look in on Callum to see him sleeping with his butt in the air and his swaddle blanket (no, we don't swaddle him anymore!) pulled firmly around his body.

In the Blogging Desert...

2010-09-09T21:09:00.004-05:00

I...I don't even know what to say. I tweeted about it...and ended up with this thread on Facebook:

EACH of them has known me for at least 15 years. And that's precisely what I LOVE about Facebook. This is also what had me cackling in my office this morning when I checked my email.

I'll try harder. Promise. And thanks to the 8 of you who, according to Sitemeter, check my blog EVERY SINGLE DAY. Shall I assume you haven't looked into Google Reader yet?

The Giggles

2010-08-08T20:34:00.001-05:00

I dare you not to smile.

Welcomed Home!

2010-07-31T22:20:00.003-05:00

I just returned from an excellent week of KAY Leadership Camp. Two great welcome home stories:

I wasn't sure how Callum would react to my week-long absence, as he had been a little shy around his daddy after he'd returned from a conference two weeks ago. Thankfully, I was greeted with a wiggle, a squeal, and a long hug!

Poor C had to sleep near my pile of stinky gamey laundry last night - it was a HOT week. He woke up not once, but TWICE in the night convinced he had seen a bug. He's not exactly the outdoors type.

Great Escape

2010-07-22T00:47:00.003-05:00

One of Callum's teachers called me today to report that Callum had escaped from his classroom.

Someone accidentally had left the classroom door open, and Callum toddled outside after a diaper change. Another teacher found him playing by the ride-on (getaway?) cars in the nearby gross motor area (fancy early childhood speak for "indoor playground"). His teachers estimate he was on the lam for less than 1 minute.

No surprise: when I arrived to pick him up this afternoon, there was a "close the door" reminder posted on the door!

Seems I might have an adventurous and ornery boy on my hands. I wonder what he was thinking?!

Food Poisoning and Other Adventures

2010-07-18T22:44:00.004-05:00

I've had great ideas for posts rattling around my brain for the past week. However, in the heat and humidity* my ideas have withered into piddly half-thoughts barely worth a sentence. FRAK.

The biggest news around these parts is FOOD POISONING. Which, I might add, is a spectacular way to celebrate the eve of your wedding anniversary. Monday night, I went to a movie** with some friends, where, naturally, I set my phone on vibrate. I missed C's first call to "come home soon." Thankfully, he rang again, and I saw my phone light up and was able to take the call in the lobby. My friend/driver took me straight home without saying goodbye to the others. C was sicker than I had ever seen him, and after calling my friend back to stay home with Callum, I hauled C to the emergency room for IV fluids. That and a shot to calm his painful cramping helped immensely, and I got him tucked into bed by 2am.

I promptly joined the party at 3:15 with my own puking/pooping combo, though I wasn't nearly as violently ill as C. We got Callum off to daycare the next morning; I spent the day in bed, and C spent the day camped out on the couch. We slept off and on all day long. C is still not 100%. I started feeling much better on Firday but did not poop for 4 days, 17 hours, and 38 minutes.

I take pride in my regularity.

The culprit was sweet corn I purchased at Farmers Market. Chris ate 4 ears for lunch, and about 9 hours later he started feeling sick. I ate 2 ears for supper, and about 9 hours later, I got sick. It was either the corn itself or the way I cleaned it. Sadly, it was our last sweet corn of the season.

In other news, I finally shaved on Saturday and followed up with a self-tanner. I'm usually a superb blender; however, I currently have a six-inch long orange stripe on my right calf that, after two showers, I can no longer blame on the terracotta pot I brushed up against.

I will be sad when Callum gets too big for me to wear in the Moby Wrap. He and I ran errands yesterday and today, and it was more convenient for me to wear him than to trot out the stroller every time. He's all snuggly in there and likes to look over my shoulder. AND - this is the best part - he's so close to me that to touch him would be to invade my personal space, so people don't touch us! Yay! The only bad thing about the Moby - all of my tshirts are stretched out at the bottom. Also, Callum's elbows are sharp - especially when I get a jab to the boob.

Speaking of boobs, I purchased some new bras two Fridays ago during the Day of Kimmie. Tracy at Von Maur has felt up at least half of the female population of Lincoln. I think they've been fudging with the sizes...big busted women wear my new size, and I am not a big busted woman. I am a tiny petite waif of a girl.***

Here's to a quiet week!!!

*What? You mean this isn't the top national news headline? It gets hot on the East Coast and the national media suggests END OF THE WORLD DOOM RUN FOR YOUR LIFE, yet we experience a little seasonal warmth here in the Midwest and no one gives a shit? WTF?!

**Girl with a Dragon Tattoo with Swedish subtitles. Excellent. A little violent, but I had just almost finished reading the book that day over lunch, so I knew what to expect. Still deciding on whether I want to read the Girl Who Plays with Fire.

*** Who still has a ways to go with losing the baby fat. Now pass me a frakking donut.

Nine Years

2010-07-14T21:45:00.001-05:00

Happy Anniversary, C! Can't believe it's been 9 years! XOXO!

Bizarre Happenings

2010-07-08T20:51:00.004-05:00

Places I expect to see labia?

Not Page D6 of today's Wall Street Journal. After repeated inspections, C and I decided what we saw was indeed a labium, and not ass dangle, as the "dress" was worn by a runway model. AWKWARD.

Callum celebrated his first bubble bath this evening...by eating the bubbles.

He also has begun communicating with his People...by holding two graham crackers up to his head and jabbering in a high pitched voice.

Just another day. I'm looking forward to a "Day of Kimmie" on Friday!

Woof.

2010-07-06T20:38:00.003-05:00

Do you all remember the babyshit-colored poodle homage from the summer of 2008? We met its inspiration this weekend.

Her name is Sabrina.

She once was lost
But now she's found

And she spent part of Sunday afternoon snuggling with C on our front porch while we tried to figure out where she lived and what in tarnation to do with her on the Fourth of July. Fortunately, the City of Lincoln has a dog collar search on its website, so once we had the owner's name, we used the County Assessor's website to see where she lived, where, thankfully, Sabrina found her doggy door.

I'd characterize her as more of a taffy color and less of a babyshit yellow.

#1 Reason I Cloth Diaper

2010-06-21T21:52:00.005-05:00

People. THIS IS NOT A JOKE.

Can Depends top this?

Mama the Benevolent Dictator

2010-06-21T19:55:00.002-05:00

I had a BRILLIANT parenting moment this morning! BRILLIANT!

Callum is slow to wake and will bang his pacifiers together and jabber (and poop) for a good 15-20 minutes before he's ready to get out of bed. Most mornings, we get him up about 7:00. This morning, however, the thunder and lightning woke him, and he was hootin' and hollerin' at 6:15.

Too early. Fortunately, since it was stormy, it was still very dark in his room.

I walked in, laid him down, covered him up, gave him a pacifier, and told him it was still night-night time, and he laid in his crib quietly until 7:00!

He will always be this obedient, right?!?! RIGHT?!

Speaking of thunder and lightning, it's been a stormy 24 hours here! We had golf ball sized hail at our house last night! Check it out: