Gretchen's Life in a Day

babysitting

2011-08-24T08:32:00.000-07:00

James has a great babysitter and little friend, Lena, who is turning one soon. They are great friends!

Having Jennafer babysit has been perfect. She's close by. James loves her and Lena. I get to work more without having to worry about James and we're doing a trade. Couldn't be better...

2011-08-01T08:00:00.001-07:00

Within half an hour of writing yesterday's post, I realized that I had completely stood up my client who I had planned on meeting earlier in the day. So much for less brain fog... I keep forgetting what day it is. Last Wednesday, I was sure it was Friday and made plans for the following day, thinking it was Saturday. Those plans had to be canceled of course because I work on Thursdays. Sleep deprivation will do that to you.

I left my sourdough bread overnight and it had risen a bit over the top of the pans by this morning. So it is in the oven. Fingers crossed! It would be great if this experiment was successful. I really enjoyed kneading the dough yesterday. Gemma and Oona helped me. It's neat for them to see how real food is made. I grew up with my Mom making 8-12 loaves of bread a week to feed a family of seven. I've never been a huge fan of bread - even home made. But maybe there will be something different with sourdough? I'll like it better? I'm wondering if it is just that I don't like bread that is sweet and that I might like the sour and salty taste better. I'll find out soon and let you know.

And I am very vainly ecstatic that the scale indicated that I've finally lost a few pounds. It makes me feel thinner. Must work on not measuring self worth by whether I feel thin or not...

2011-07-31T18:30:00.000-07:00

I am enjoying homemade vanilla ice cream sweetened with agave and stevia. No potato, honey, or sugar involved.

My sourdough bread is in the bread pans but has not risen really. And it's been not-rising since this morning at roughly 9. It is now 6:30. Do I bake it as is? Or do I let it sit awhile longer? Was my start not good enough? This sourdough baking is a new adventure. Hmmmmm.....

Two weeks in, I think I am having less brain fog. That is a good thing. :)

the new diet

2011-07-29T13:45:00.000-07:00

is overall going well. The hardest parts are the hidden sugars and wondering if the salt on the label is iodized (and thus has potato) or not. Goodness gracious! Eliminating just potato, honey and sugar ends up eliminating A LOT of foods! Why even try? Why do it?

Elimination diets are definitely, most definitely, not for everybody. I had several reasons for trying..

1) I've never had the strongest constitution but, in the three months I didn't blog, I was knocked down by three viruses. I am so tired of being sick all the time and whatever I can do to help my body is worth it.

2) I've been struggling with sugar issues for, if I'm honest with myself, a decade now. Maybe, just maybe, this will make it easier? When I eat sugar and start getting cravings, I feel really out of control. My life right now is pretty darn chaotic and feels at times out of control. One thing I can control, though, is what I put in my mouth. I've used that control in destructive anorexic type ways in the past. I would like to use that control in a nourishing way this time around.

3) I have failed to make a dent in the thirty post-pardom pounds I would like to lose. I don't at all mind losing it slowly, but am not liking the plateau, or actually gaining when I succumb to a sugar binge.

4) I like the individualized approach - what is your body sensitive too. In the past decade I've read that protein is bad for you, that fat is bad for you, that protein is good for you, that healthy fat is good for you, that grains are what we should all eat, that we should never eat grains. One sister found out recently that she doesn't do well with gluten or egg and was encouraging me to try giving up gluten. I decided I wanted to be tested to know what my own individual body didn't like.

5) I've been very sleep deprived for the last almost five years and my adrenals are depleted, my thyroid taxed. I have a lot of things I want to do in the next twenty, thirty, forty years and want to have energy to do them. Given my constitution and family history, cutting out things that are stressful for my body is probably a pretty good idea.

6) I've always thought endometriosis is an autoimmune condition. I need to do what I can to have a happy immune system. I have not restarted my cycle since James was born (can you believe he'll be seven months on Sunday???), but am dreading the pelvic pain and painful ovulation. If this can help with that, I will be ecstatic.

What is interesting about the potato, honey, and fruit and sugar in combination, is that I'm not actually allergic to any of it. Neither is it a sensitivity. How the naturopath described it is that it is more of an intolerance. Your body finds it stressful to try to break down these foods and your liver, kidneys and immune system end up doing a lot of the job instead of your stomach and intestines.

Of course, if after six months I don't feel better, potato chips sound awfully good... That or sweet potato fries...

Three months later...

2011-07-25T08:24:00.000-07:00

And now it is three months since my last post... Mostly, we've been sleep deprived over here and just trying to keep up with the chaos of having five kids - two teenagers, one pre-k-er (I can't bring myself to call Gemma a toddler), a toddler (it's getting hard to call Oona a toddler, too. Is she a preschooler instead?) and a baby who is sitting and teething and nursing frequently all night long. Right now, Jack is on the couch reading. Patrick is working at our neighbor's print shop. Gemma is finding clothes to put on. Oona is whining because she wants me to help her find clothes - but is also very proud because she kept her underwear dry all night long. And James is on the floor crying. I read a facebook post the other day that exhorted parents to never let their children cry. I know this particular Mom to have only one kid and is pregnant with her second and I couldn't help thinking, "You just wait... When you have more than one, sometimes something has to get done before you pick up the fussing kid." For some reason, this blog post is qualifying as one of those things that needs to get done before I pick up the fussing baby. Part of that, though, is due to frustration because he's been popping on and off the nipple this morning and that hurts and my patience has run thin.

But, why I'm really back posting on the blog is to share a bit about a naturopath visit and the efforts of giving up potato, honey, and sugar... More about that later. I really should see if I can comfort the baby. He's turned from fussying to crying.

Happy Easter

2011-04-25T15:53:00.000-07:00

I made some fairies for the girls for Easter. (They knew that I made them but didn't wonder where the Easter Bunny got them from...)

I'm in love with these little acorn dolls. More to come, I'm sure!

Also, can you tell this little boy has big sisters? A couple weeks ago, the girls had fun dressing him up in purple bunny ears. And of course, there is the non-gender neutral pink bouncy seat.

And a little tummy time...

2011-03-26T09:20:00.001-07:00

one of jack's friends, ione, took this awesome picture of him skateboarding. i think i want to get it framed because it is just so jack.

pictures 2

2011-03-22T14:25:00.001-07:00

James in his pink bouncy seat. This time photos by me.

pictures

2011-03-22T14:18:00.000-07:00

All taken by Jack (window reflection) who is taking photography right now.

oops

2011-03-15T13:59:00.001-07:00

Sleep deprivation = managing the feat of putting a disposable diaper on incorrectly (my only excuse was that it was the middle of the night and dark) = wet baby and wet bed exactly when it's time to be out the door to take the girls to school. oops. Somehow I managed to twist the diaper at the crotch and have the absorbent part facing out in front - which doesn't help much when you're diapering a boy...

Lucky for me, I was punchy enough from sleep deprivation that I found this pretty funny in kind of a "wow, somebody could actually manage that" type of way. And we weren't too terribly late. I might not have thought it was so funny, though, if he had managed to pee on me in the middle of the night and I woke up with wet pajamas and wet sheets all around.

one of the best birthday presents

2011-03-02T14:26:00.001-08:00

A card Eric drew for me for my birthday. It reminds me of the picture I had in my head of when I came home from the hospital with James. I felt bad about not having a photograph of that, but this is way better...

keeping chaos at bay

2011-02-14T11:41:00.000-08:00

I just called Eric because I really needed to calm down. I had just engaged in a half hour power struggle with Gemma trying to get her to clean up her mess - which she had promised to clean up when I let her play with the toy in the first place. I was getting very very very very angry. Am much calmer now. I cleaned the beads up myself and am confiscating them - which was the consequence that I warned Gemma about a kajillion times over. (I already just this weekend took some puzzles and hid them away because Gemma kept getting them out and then not doing them and leaving the puzzle pieces spread out all over the family room floor.)

So we have a plan to keep chaos at bay. It seems so much of our collective day is spent cleaning up messes the girls make with them very half heartedly helping out because they know full well that it will get done whether they help or not and because they don't care if it's a big mess or not. They just don't see it as a mess and the consequences we've come up with have not been effective motivators. I asked Eric what he did with the boys and he said that they had far fewer toys and far less space to make a mess in. Well, we can't change the size of our house right at the moment, but we can reduce the number of toys that they can make a mess with. So that is the plan. We'll keep out the toys that they regularly play with and put away or get rid of the ones they don't.

With seven people, a cat and a dog, somehow the chaos needs to be managed. And engaging in power struggles with little ones by trying to manipulate or bribe them into the desired behavior is just way too exhausting, especially for these sleep deprived parents. We'll see how it pans out. I'm hoping for happy kids who are especially happy that their parents aren't getting angry as often.

six weeks, parenthetical statements, and the breast crawl

2011-02-12T08:25:00.000-08:00

James is six weeks old already. As always, I can't believe he's been here on the outside for that long (how fast time flies!) and I also feel like each day is five days (how slow time is! when will he sleep through the night so that i can be sane?!?!) In a lot of ways he is an easy baby. He is perfectly content to let his brothers or Dad hold him (something Oona would not tolerate). He doesn't fuss much when his big sisters are crowding over him, fighting for the best view of his face (is he awake, is he asleep?) What he does is grunt and squirm and wriggle and want to nurse relatively frequently (not as bad as Oona I have to keep reminding myself...) most of the night which makes sleep difficult and patience the following day challenging. My house is chaotic and dirty. The girls walls are covered in marker and crayon - a small price to pay for time to myself (or myself with James). With the first kid, time to yourself meant without the baby. With the second and third kids, time to yourself just means without the older ones.

We've had some challenges with nursing and his latch being quite uncomfortable and sometimes painful. I finally contacted Alicia, a lactations consultant. And she had me do the breast crawl to reset his latch. It worked! And now I think every new mom should do the breast crawl with their newborn. It might just make many nursing challenges disappear. James is much more comfortable and relaxed nursing with me semi-reclined than he is in the traditional cradle hold.

Check out this video: Breast crawl video on youtube.

Speaking of which, Mr. James wants to nurse again...

New Year's resolutions a month late...

2011-01-31T09:13:00.001-08:00

I just saw a link on yahoo about eating foods to boost your mood - whole foods rich in vitamins, etc. Instead, I've made cup cakes from a box mix and some frosting. I've been on a sugar bender the past week or so. It's not very pretty. One night, I was feeling desperate for something sweet, the cake I had purchased earlier already consumed, and there was nothing readily available except for Karo Syrup. I drew the line. That was too close to an alcoholic going for the rubbing alcohol.

Sooo. My New Years was taken over by other important things other than making resolutions. So I'm making today my New Years Eve and tomorrow, February 1 will be my day to start those resolutions.

I renew my resolution to eat foods that are good for me - which, in my sugar-sensitive case, means no sweets.

That is my most concrete resolution. Others would include fulfilling my potential as well as possible as a person, mother, wife, sister. Pray more, laugh more, be more patient, and act with loving kindness and compassion. I'm not setting the bar too high, am I?

BTW, James is one month old today.

birth story

2011-01-03T17:04:00.000-08:00

I posted on the blog at 3:30 in the morning on the 31st. I was completely frustrated by the lack of labor. The day before, I got all excited because I had strong contractions that were about three minutes apart for about half an hour. Then nothing. I was so disappointed. I had gotten so excited that this was it. So the next morning, I ignored the crampy, moderate contractions. Hadn't I been having them for weeks now and they meant nothing? I had lunch. Cuddled with Oona. The girls went in for nap time and I settled in to knit on my hat. I often knit while the girls are in quiet time. I started to have some stronger contractions but they weren't super close together so I ignored them. This is about 12:30 pm. I just knit away then noticed that it was getting hard to knit through the contractions. The contractions would come about two rows apart, then one row apart, then they started being half a row apart. I started thinking maybe I am in labor so made a few relevant phone calls. I had the surrogate grandmother come over just in case this was the real thing. I checked in with my doula and talked about maybe going to the hospital. We finally decided to go because I didn't want to have to have the stress of thinking about whether I should go or not. We got in the car and headed off. We got out of the car in the parking garage at 3:33 pm. I had three or four contractions (I had to stop and relax) between the car and the check in desk then a couple more from there to the room (they skipped triage). The nurse asked if I was planning on an epidural so I handed her my birth plan of hypnobirthing. She gave me a gown to change into. It took me awhile to change because I had to breathe through four or so more contractions. Then they checked my cervix and I was already at a 7 with bulging waters which promptly broke. I was group B strep positive so they put the IV thing in, but I guess there was debate over what kind of antibiotic because I'm allergic to amoxicillin and they never did get around to hooking it up. My doula was great and did energy work which really helped. I also had Steven Halpern Sound Healing playing on the cd player. The room was really quiet. They never got around to checking my cervix again. It was clear I was feeling pushy and they let me do mother directed pushing. I was semi on my back and did not want to change position. Some say that isn't the ideal position to be in but it worked this time around. I had a tiny tear which required a couple stitches but has not bothered me at all since then. The mid-wife allowed his cord to pulse and he was immediately placed on my stomach. I could have caught him myself but didn't want to change position at that point. James William was born at 4:48 pm, 7 lb, 10 oz, 21 inches long. Yes, it was that quick and amazing. I really felt like I was able to stay in my hypnobirthing space and could mostly relax into the contractions. I should be grateful for all the preparation my body did. It helped things move so quickly and helped me have lots of practice for relaxing through contractions. The nurse accidentally ripped my IV out while rubbing down the baby. I had so many endorphins running through me it didn't really hurt. The side benefit was that they didn't put a new one in so I spent the rest of the time there without the IV. James looked wonderful and healthy so I was really really surprised when his blood sugar reading came back as too low to measure (which means below 20). So he was whisked away to the NICU which was very sad for me. He was really really sleepy the first twenty four hours and it was hard to get him to nurse. The NICU doctor was talking about wanting to supplement and wanting me to pump to see or prove how much milk I was producing. It was really stressful. Finally, at the twenty four hour mark, he did a two hour cluster feed. Then they were able to wean him off the glucose IV and he was only in the NICU for about 48 hrs which is a really short amount of time for babies born with low blood sugar. His last blood sugar reading was just high enough for him to go home but the NICU doctor let him. I was so relieved. The girls hadn't met James yet because siblings were not allowed in the NICU because of cold and flu season. It was sooo nice to be home and see the girls and have everybody meet the baby. I wish I had a picture, but I don't think a photograph would have done justice to the occasion. I sat on the couch holding James and John, Patrick, Gemma and Oona were circled around me so happy to meet their baby brother. It was wonderful to sleep in my own bed. Going upstairs to the NICU every three hours to nurse was quite exhausting.

It was really really fast but wasn't overwhelming. It was quiet, calm, peaceful and beautiful.

pictures

2011-01-03T13:02:00.001-08:00

with more story to come later.

Skin to skin, James William right after birth, 31 December, 4:48 p.m.

With eye medicine...

End of the NICU stay.

Packed up and ready to head home.

Big sisters.

I woke up.

The hat I knit while wondering if I was in labor or not. Is it for real this time? Less than two hours later... I finished the hat while in the hospital.

not in labor yet

2010-12-31T03:26:00.000-08:00

It is 3:30 in the morning. I've been having that pregnancy induced insomnia for maybe a week now and finally gave up on trying to go back to sleep immediately. I've been up for close to two hours now. I'm going to knit a few rows on a hat I'm working on then try again to go back to sleep. Unlike with first baby, my girls will need me tomorrow.

This waiting game is not easy. I keep having all these indicators that baby is coming SOON but no real active labor has happened yet. Lots of contractions. Lots of mood swings. Insomnia. Wanting to retreat to that safe, private place to labor from. I get my hopes up, then everything fizzles out and I get disappointed and discouraged. It's a bit of a roller coaster. I know baby has to be born and I'm trying to release my fears that it will be in a way that I don't want - like being induced or having to have a c-section. I'm working on staying in the moment and allowing the process to be what it will be and trusting that my body will do exactly what it needs to do and that it will be, in retrospect, at the exact right time.

I guess this is nature's way of making you really WANT to be in labor. Come on baby! Your Daddy will still be home next week but has to go back to work the week after. It would be so nice to have him home for the first week of your life!

39 weeks

2010-12-28T06:18:00.001-08:00

We've made it past Christmas (which was overall good) and my focus has shifted from getting ready for Christmas and then surviving, I mean enjoying, the chaos of Christmas to thinking about when labor is going to start and when will the baby be born. I love Christmas, don't get my wrong, but there is a certain amount of stress that goes along with it - disappointed hopes, let down after all the excitement and build up, too much weird food, overstimulated kids.

Yesterday I had quite a few relatively strong contractions but they completely fizzled out into nothing. So frustrating! It was nice to have the distraction of Christmas so as to not obsess about when I will go into labor (is this contraction the beginning?) and when the baby will be born. Did I do the right amount of activity today? Did I eat right? Did I rest enough? You know, trying to control a situation that is completely out of your control. I've had a New Agey type (a man, too, who has an adopted son but none of his own) tell me that I can just manifest when the baby will be born. At the time, I just nodded and said sure while in my head I was thinking, "Ha! You give it a try!" Thinking about that more, as I wish I could have some control over when I go into labor, I come back to isn't it true that you can only manifest for yourself and not for anybody else? And if you believe in astrology and that the baby picks it's birth time, you can't manifest the baby's birth time to satisfy your need to know when the show is going to happen? I think there must be something to the baby choosing his birth time, reflecting my belief that there is more to the world than just the material. And the mother must wait. The mother's emotions play a role, too, it is a joint and collaborative effort, but there is only so much you can do before you drive yourself crazy wondering if maybe something you did was the wrong thing and that is why you haven't gone into labor yet.

Patience and tolerating discomfort with the best interests of your children at heart is one of the earliest lessons of motherhood. Waiting, wondering whether this next contraction will be the one that gets the ball rolling, trying your best to balance out your day to help create the best scenario for the birth of your baby while at the same time trying to be a good parent to your older children - that is my current challenge.

Waiting, wondering, waiting some more, and some more, and some more...

Officially full term

2010-12-17T11:42:00.000-08:00

I am officially full term today, according to the day of my last period. I can't tell you how good it feels to be full term (well, besides the discomforts of being hugely pregnant). Of course, it's still that the baby will be born any time in the next four weeks. But that background anxiety is gone and won't return unless I go past my due date (January 7 according to the hospital) which then will bring up anxiety about being induced. But we're not going to think about that for now... I can tell my body is changing and preparing - more open, more relaxin. I feel like I've dilated some more and that my cervix is changing position. There's more pressure in my pelvis. Contractions are getting stronger, though definitely not active labor yet. I assumed that I would have five minute contractions at this point since I did with both of the girls. But they've been more of a comfortable fifteen to twenty minutes apart.

The nesting urge is going strong down to wanting to scrub all my floors and clean out all my closets. We'll see what I end up having the energy for.

I'm almost done sewing up some fleecy items for baby boy - some hats, sleepy sacks, kimono style sweaters. I have a little tiny sweater on the knitting needles.

I'm also really glad Christmas is coming so soon. The distraction from being pregnant - having something else to think about and focus on - is very welcome. We're getting our tree today. I'm done shopping but have a lot of wrapping to do. I alternate between feeling like I haven't done enough shopping and feeling like I've way over done it - trying to find that happy medium. I'm pretty sure everybody will be happy come Christmas morning.

I've told baby boy that being born on Christmas Eve or Christmas Day is not really an option. The week after would be perfect. We'll see if he listens...

36 weeks

2010-12-08T09:08:00.001-08:00

Yesterday, the date was circled on my calendar with the words "the magic day." I've been waiting since April to get to that day. For a long time, it had seemed impossibly far away but now it has come and gone. Now I just have a little background anxiety, not wanting to go into labor until I'm 37 week which won't be until the 17th according to the date my mid-wife has on record and so according to the hospital. Somebody told me that any baby born before that "magic day" at the hospital I'll be delivering at has to go to the NICU regardless of how they're doing. (I'm pretty sure that's true, but I haven't been told that officially by my mid-wife or anything. Maybe I should ask to be sure. Then if it's not true, I could let go of that piece of anxiety.) I'd really really really like to have a healthy baby that does not go to the NICU. So when I have a couple hours of five to ten minute contractions, that date looms in the back of my mind and I have a hard time relaxing and trusting my body to do the right thing. Baby boy is still transverse so chances of me going into active labor are pretty slim with no head engaged.

I've been up a lot at night and try to do my hypnobirthing techniques during that time. The words trust and receive and faith and allow are the ones that keep coming up as I work on releasing fear and anxiety. As much as I believe in hypnobirthing and that it is possible to create your own birth experience, there's a part of me that also believes that there are things outside of our control and that what we think will be perfect may not actually be what is perfect. If we always knew what was best for us, then we'd be omniscient and I'm not omniscient though I wish I were at times. So I'm working on setting the intention but not being attached to outcome.

Here's my intention. I would go into active labor in the evening after the girls are in bed which means we can leave before our care provider gets here (the boys will be home)and I don't have to worry about coordinating my departure with the arrival of somebody who can watch the girls. The roads are passable which makes it easy for all people involved to be able to get to where they need to be. I'm able to stay in my hypnobirthing space, everything goes smoothly, and before I know it, I'm holding a baby boy in my arms. I had a kind of vision of a bridge and a being of light bringing baby boy across the bridge and placing him in my arms. Then Eric can stay the night with me. The girls will wake up in the morning and have a new baby brother. Eric can go pick the girls and boys up and they can come visit me and the baby while I'm resting at the hospital.

gemma and oona

2010-12-01T10:39:00.001-08:00

The girls decided to have a pajama day today and wanted some pictures. Then I meant to post the other picture of them holding hands while watching a movie a couple weeks ago. I threw it in because it was just too cute.

my belly

2010-12-01T10:34:00.001-08:00

at 35 weeks. plus pictures with a sweater my twin sister made for me. she calls it a twin hug for mama of 3+2. it will fit better, i think, after baby is born...

Big girl in progress

2010-11-24T12:54:00.000-08:00

Shhh... don't tell anybody but Oona has been putting most of her pees and poops in the potty. On the other hand, she hasn't napped for about a week. I guess both are signs that she's getting to be a big girl...

Pumpkin Cheesecake

2010-11-24T12:49:00.000-08:00

Here's a recipe for Pumpkin Cheesecake made with stevia. I miss pumpkin pie but it is just too many carbs and has too much sugar. I can't be specific on the amount of stevia because it really can vary from jar to jar and the kind you get can make a difference. My current jar doesn't have much sweetness and is the kind mixed with maltodextrin. I probably used about 1/4 to 1/3 of a cup.

Pumpkin Cheesecake

crust -
1/2 cup butter
2 cups pecans

filling
4 8 oz packages cream cheese
1 T brown sugar (opt)
stevia to taste (depends on brand, type, jar, etc)
5 eggs
2 cups pumpkin
1/4 cup whole wheat flour
2 t pumpkin pie spice
1 t vanilla (or 1/2 t vanilla, 1/2 t lemon)

In food processor, blender, or nut grinder/chopper, chop pecans very fine. Melt butter in skillet. Add chopped pecans and cook until toasted. They will become very aromatic. Press into bottom of spring form pan. Refrigerate.

Preheat oven to 350.

Blend cream cheese, brown sugar, and stevia until well blended. Add eggs one at a time, blending after each addition. In a small bowl, combine pumpkin, flour, pumpkin pie spice and vanilla. Add pumpkin mixture to cream cheese mixture and blend until well blended. Pour into spring form pan.

Bake for 1 hour and 20 minutes or 1 and a half hours or until center is set. Place a pan with an inch of hot water on the shelve below the cake . Turn oven off, leaving the cheesecake in the oven and leave oven door open for 30 minutes. Remove from oven and let cool completely on a cooling rack. Refrigerate 4 hours or overnight.

Why do I even try?

2010-11-17T12:37:00.000-08:00

So far, there are two parenting of toddler challenges that severely try my patience. Excuse me while I vent for a moment. First - Potty traing. Oona refuses to go for me. There is some sort of power struggle or something there. I so desparately want her to be potty trained. We've tried many different things and all I get is "no." She'll go for her teachers at school. But for some reason she won't go at home. Praise doesn't work. Suggestions don't work. Bribery doesn't work. I don't think telling her she has to sit on the potty chair until she goes would work either. She would just hold it and I would be bald from tearing all my hair out. Making her wear soiled underwear wouldn't work either because I would have to hold and wrestle her until the requisite time was up.

Second - napping. Why do I even try to get Oona down for a nap? Except that she's entirely way too cranky by dinner time and the other night she fell asleep before dinner and when she woke up she was super duper cranky. I get so infuriated, though, putting in all the effort to get her to go to sleep - the same techniques that have worked previously and the only ones that I've tried that were at all effective - and then she refuses to sleep even though it is so clearly obviously that she is tired and needs a nap. A week or so ago, I decided to give up. But then she surprised me and fell asleep several days in a row with super long naps. So I thought to myself, well, then I should at least try to get her down for a nap. I'm thinking now, that since it reduces me to grinding my teeth and pulling my hair and biting my clothing, that I should go back to giving up. I just won't have much sympathy for her when she's crying and cranky come 5 o'clock.

Luckily, I don't have super picky eaters. I think that would be the third thing.

We can't force them to pee or poop when we want them to and where we want them to. We also can't force them to fall asleep when and where we think they should. And you can't force them to eat something. I've had moments of gagging and wretching and tears at the table from older children and it is not pleasant. Oh, the frustrations!

Teenager parenting challenges that really get me are talking back, the teenager feeling the need to teach the parent a lesson, the parent being the stupidest person ever because teenagers know everything. You know - boundary issues. Teenagers and toddlers together? You get a lot of "You're not going to tell ME what to do!" You wanna bet? There are consequences.

choices

2010-11-15T08:35:00.000-08:00

My friend Chelsea has been writing about her choices for how she lives which has been very thought provoking in a good way. Her posts have gotten me thinking about choices and priorities and how difficult it can be to make those choices and set those priorities.

First, I'm one of those people who says that I don't buy all organic because it is too expensive for me - I can't afford it. I realize that that isn't true. But if I chose to afford it, I would have to change other financial and dietary priorities.

I find the excuses "I can't afford it," or "I don't have the time" are usually cover ups for other reasons that you don't make a particular choice. Neither statement is actually true. If you so wished, you would find the time or the money to make it happen, just as Chelsea has with her choices in spite of hardship.

We are faced with so many choices in this world. How do we choose? Sometimes, we just follow along somewhat unreflectively with what our mothers did, or what our friends are doing. Ultimately, we are forced to prioritize. As true as it is that we could afford it or could have enough time, most of us don't have infinite financial resources and there are only twenty-four hours in a day. We have to decide what is the most important and what we can let go of. These priorities inform the choices we make and the excuses we make for not making other choices.

I think eating organically is ideal, but my priorities of following a lower carb diet including plenty of meat protein, feeding two teenage step-sons whose tastes in food were established before I arrived on the scene, and having the primary financial goal of becoming completely debt free all mean that eating organic cannot be my top priority at the moment. Organic meats are significantly more expensive than non and our grocery bill would double if we stuck to organic only. This would make paying off those pesky student loans take way longer than we are currently committed too.

See, priorities. Sometimes we make them consciously, sometimes unreflectively, and sometimes there are physical, emotional, or spiritual reasons for them, either positive and expansive or negative and limiting. It is interesting and most likely good to think about why you make the choices you make. The challenge, I think, is to make the choices without being defensive about them, to allow your choices to change as priorities shift, and to be as non-judgmental as possible of others choices and priorities.

I, personally, am never insecure (ha!) and am never defensive (ha, again!) about the choices I make. I always worry that I have made the wrong choice. So, for me, the challenge is also to feel good about my choices. You do the best you can with what you have and what you know, right?

"marriage is a verb"

2010-11-13T08:09:00.001-08:00

My maternal grandparents will celebrate their 65th wedding anniversary in January (knock on wood). My grandmother is almost 92 and has dementia and has good and bad days but really has no short term memory. Some days all she knows is her husband and I've heard stories of her sitting and holding his hand, talking about "her Gerry." My grandfather is 89, has congestive heart failure, and can't walk because of knee and hip pain (three hip replacements in the same hip over his lifetime). Recently, my cousin, who is getting married in the spring, asked my grandfather about his philosophy on marriage. She reported back the results, the most intriguing of which is that marriage is a verb.

Marriage as a verb is a wonderful way of looking at it. I like that. And it's nice and refreshing to hear stories of long lasting marriages and the commitment it takes to have one.

One of my teenage boys went on a sleepover the other night and had the privilege (?) of hearing his friend's Dad call his friend's Mom a whore. We had a talk about verbal abuse and how NOT okay it is. I secretly hope that this woman can find a way out of her marriage. Divorce, imo, should not be the first answer for any marriage. But abuse should also never be tolerated and that is when I appreciate that society does allow for divorce these days.

32 weeks

2010-11-11T07:46:00.000-08:00

I had a mid-wife appointment yesterday. As you may remember, I was worried about this one because I really didn't want to have so many ultrasounds, etc, etc, and was feeling like my mid-wife was under the thumb of the OB and what was the point of being with a mid-wife anyway? Yesterday's appointment was a complete about face, 180 degree turn around. My mid-wife was really happy with my blood sugar numbers and was completely unworried about the placenta. I might have one more ultrasound which is a HUGE difference from weekly ultrasounds from 34 weeks on. So that is good news. Baby is obviously growing. I wasn't going to look at the scale when I got weighed yesterday, but I did and I've already gained over forty pounds, yikes. I've been told that I'm all belly but just my belly can't account for forty pounds. I'm trying to focus on keeping my blood sugars balanced and not on freaking out about how much weight I'll want to lose once the baby is born.

I think I need to obsess about numbers less, don't you think?

Baby boy is usually in a funny half breech, half transverse position with his head up by my liver (upper right), his butt by my sigmoid colon (lower left) and his feet kind of up by his face, kicking away. It's too soon to worry about that, though, and at least with him not head down, pre-term labor is much less likely. I'll start worrying if he hasn't turned by 38 weeks and that is six weeks away. Almost everybody else feels like this is a very short time. For me, if I think about it too much, I feel like I'm going to be pregnant forever.

halloween baby belly

2010-10-31T15:25:00.001-07:00

I'm nearing the 31 week mark. The third trimester exhaustion has definitely set in, as well as ligament pain and just plain old tired belly. Just over two months to go. I didn't make a jack-o-lantern face for my belly, but thought it was kind of fun to "dress up" in an orange shirt for halloween. It's not every day that you have a pumpkin belly on halloween.

And this was me a week ago Friday. I feel like little baby boy went through a growth spurt over the last week. I had so many people think I was about two months further along than I actually am. I feel like I look that big, too.

wildlife

2010-10-20T11:35:00.000-07:00

There was a MOOSE in our back yard! Those things are HUGE!

This is, btw, not an everyday occurence and has caused much excitement and barking.

27 weeks

2010-10-06T10:46:00.000-07:00

The pregnancy focus of the week is incredulity at having three more months to go. Pregnancy time is bizarre. Everybody else marvels at how fast it goes. Pregnancy is an extremely slow time for me.

I really enjoyed this book recently - a loaner from a friend. I think I need to get my own copy. Donna Eden's "Energy Medicine for Women" has a lot of cool pointers in it. I've said before that western medicine is still mystified about the female cycle. The main solutions are birth control pill and surgery, neither of which really address the cause. I guess many pharmaceuticals fall under that category. I'm not anti-western medicine by any means but I do acknowledge its limitations. Eden gives a lot of mini-exercises to do, mostly based in acupuncture, that can help with female symptoms - PMS, difficult periods, pregnancy, menopause.

The connection between the book and the way I experience pregnancy is that Eden writes about having very difficult PMS (though she was fortunate to have easy pregnancies) and how in some ways each month, she receives the gift of needing to go inward - PMS as a spiritual journey so to speak. I'm the opposite - my PMS symptoms are quite manageable (knock on wood) but pregnancy is a test, a huge test, of endurance and patience. So I guess pregnancy is a gift. The obvious is the baby at the end of the journey. The less obvious is the required slowing down, going inward. I'm forced to live each day in a very different way than I would have other wise. Isn't that some sort of spiritual journey?

monsters at bed time

2010-10-01T07:15:00.000-07:00

This is either a terrible parenting moment that I'll deeply regret or a genius parenting moment which uses the power of the fairy tale in a magical and effective way.

Gemma (nearly four years old) has been resisting bed time with every ounce of her being. I've once before told her that monsters will come after bed time and check to make sure she's in bed. If she's in bed, they'll leave her alone. She brought the subject up again. She was refusing to change into her pajamas and said "will the monsters come?" I said, "Oh yes. Monsters come and check to make sure you have your pajamas on." (desperate parenting maneuver on my part.) The discussion continued about what the monsters will do, etc, etc. The end of the conversation was this:

Me: "The monsters come after Mommy and Daddy leave your room and they check to make sure that you're in bed and have your pajamas on. If you don't, they will scare you. If you're in bed and have your pajamas on, they leave you alone and go check the next little girl to make sure she's in bed."

My husband comes in the room and Gemma tells him, "Mommy said that monsters will come to make sure I'm in bed and have my pajamas on."

He says, "Oh, I'm sure she didn't say that. There's no monsters."

I said, "Well, um, yeah, I kind of did say that."

Miracle of miracles, Gemma and Oona were in bed by seven o'clock - light out and pajamas on. I'm sure the monsters were both disappointed they couldn't scare them and happy that they were being good little girls.

(And my apologies go out to friends if Gemma tells them that monsters come at bed time. What works for one little girl may completely backfire for another.)

26 weeks

2010-09-29T12:33:00.000-07:00

this is when

i could still see my toes.

i can't see my toes anymore.

and after enjoying some cake, my blood sugar the next morning was high. no more sweet indulgences for me.

24 weeks

2010-09-15T18:02:00.000-07:00

I've made it to 24 weeks now. I had an ultrasound this morning and besides a little extra weight gain, everything looks good. No change in the placenta, and baby's growth is right on track. He has super long fingers. Wonder if he'll have my hands? Or a masculine version, that is.

It's amazing how tired I get but I'm still hanging in there. I have good days and hard days, but isn't that true anyway?

I've been thinking a lot about the challenges of being a good mother and wanting a career. Being "only a Mom" isn't very valued by many and the expectation to be both super Mom and super career woman is a hard one to live up to. My career is very important to me as are my kids. It's hard not to feel like your life is on hold in these pregnant and early baby years. Career is such a huge part of definition of self - the ego especially thinks so. I keep trying to think of it from what my perspective might be as an eighty year old. Something tells me family and children and grand children will be much more important than any career accomplishments (those will be important, too, but family connections will trump them).

I've been sitting and knitting and crocheting a lot. We got a new lap top so I have to figure out getting the camera hooked up to it. Once I do that, I'll post about those kinds of happenings, too. Pictures have been missing too much from this blog.

almost twenty two weeks

2010-08-30T07:47:00.001-07:00

Tuesday marks twenty-two weeks. This is the time in Oona's pregnancy when I went on partial bed rest. I use the term bed rest loosely. I never actually had to stay in bed. Instead I had to sit on the couch. Riding in the car, folding laundry, picking up, etc, would all cause five to ten minute contractions - not something you really look for at twenty-two and a half weeks. Even if you have a lot of Braxton Hicks contractions, having them that frequently and regularly isn't very typical.

Last week we took a family trip to a lake about an hour and a half away. That took some recovery time. I could barely move by the end of the day. Luckily regular contractions haven't set in but I'd rather be cautious then go through what I did with Oona. Having your bum glued to the couch for three months is not easy.

Even as a whine about being pregnant, I keep reminding myself that it's not as bad as it was with Oona. First of all, that winter we had a ton of snow. I don't think I went further than the front porch for about six weeks. Doctor's appointments were the only place I went. Second, I had left my job under bizarre circumstances a couple months before I got pregnant. My work friends ended up being just that - friends you are happy to see when you see them but that you don't really see outside work. Those three months on the couch were nearly completely isolated months. Phone calls to my sister and knitting every couple weeks with a knitting friend I had made were all that kept me sane. Conversations with my husband were reserved for the end of the day and I was lucky if he could stay awake. Those three months were some of the hardest I've ever had.

Approaching twenty two and a half weeks has made me think about that time quite a bit. This time around, though, my contractions haven't settled into any frequency or regularity, thanks, I think, to taking Prometrium. I have friends that I can count on and knowing that is sanity saving. I'm sitting a lot (and my bum is growing as a result) but I'm not glued to the couch. The hour and a half in the car was really too long but shorter trips are manageable - tiring but they don't lead to hours and hours of regularly spaced contractions. Pregnancy is not an easy state for me but as I know from experience, could be worse! Even if I do have to go on bed rest (heaven forbid), I know I won't be so isolated like I was. I'm hoping that I can keep it at just taking it easy and avoid the whole bed rest concept.

Did I mention I was taking care of a one year old when I was on bed rest with Oona? Gemma went from 14 months to 17 months during that time. This time around I'd have a two year old and a three or four year old. That just sounds too nutty to even think about.

week 20

2010-08-17T18:12:00.000-07:00

I've made it half way. 20 or so more weeks to go, knock on wood. I had my ultrasound on Monday. Good news is that it's a healthy boy! Possibly good or possibly bad news is that I have a circumvallate placenta which either causes no problems or some pretty serious complications. If you google it, you get lots of worst case scenario cases including mention of it causing infant or maternal mortality - just what a pregnant person should be thinking about. I was given the advice today to stay far far far away from the internet. Anyways, there are also a lot of women who safely deliver healthy babies with no complications in spite of this particular abnormality in the placenta. I admit to being thrown for a loop by the diagnosis. All the ghosts of pregnancies past reared their ugly heads again as well as feeling jinxed when it comes to pregnancy. Why can't I have a completely normal low risk pregnancy? Am I going to have third trimester bleeding? Will I have to be on bed rest? Will I have pre-term labor with hospitalized bed rest - very scary thought? C-section? Hemmorhaging? Placental abruption?

After a restless night, I'm able to kind of accept it as a what is and am less caught up with the what ifs. I could potentially have a full term pregnancy and a crisis free delivery. Or I could not, which I will deal with if that possibility becomes an actuality. Worrying about it will not help and will not change anything - besides adding more adrenaline to my system and causing the baby to be more stressed out, too. I tell Gemma that it is okay to have an ow-ie. She's okay, the world is not ending. The same advice goes to me. Even if things don't turn out exactly as I hope, I will be okay. Still, I'll rest much more easily once I've crossed that finish line and am holding a baby in my arms.

pregnancy furnace

2010-08-04T08:18:00.000-07:00

Does anybody know how to stop the Chinese comments? My husband can kind of read them and they're spam of some sort. I'm getting really annoyed with constantly deleting them.

Last night the pregnancy furnace turned on. I've been doing pretty well temperature wise up until now. In fact I've been more cold than not cold. Last night, I had to get up and take a cold shower and then sleep with no pajamas trying to catch the breeze coming from the window. My head is right next to the window so the breeze blew on my wet head and I was finally able to fall back asleep. A couple hours later, it got chilly enough, I had to get up and put my pajamas back on.

I'm finding it really stressful to be at home right now. It's just a constant reminder of what needs to get done and isn't. I'm scared to overdo it and end up with contractions so I get to look at dust bunnies, disgusting carpet, piles of toys, and unmopped up spills. I'm wondering how the boys would react if I wrote up a list of chores...

nearly eighteen weeks

2010-08-02T08:50:00.000-07:00

Tomorrow will be eighteen weeks, twenty-two (or so) to go. I have not been successful at being a cheerful pregnant person. Thank goodness the girls are playing right now instead of climbing on me. It's a nice break.

The progesterone (Prometrium) supplements are really helping with the contractions. I sleep more soundly, too, even though I have plenty of crazy dreams. I'm able to do a lot more than I could before I was taking it. I'm still pretty exhausted by the end of the day, though, even with the little that I do manage to do. I think that contributes to the crankiness. I don't like feeling unproductive. Growing a baby is technically productive, but it's hard to feel that way sometimes.

I was talking to another pregnant Mom the other day. She was saying the part she was dreading the most is going through labor. I'm the exact opposite. I'm dreading pregnancy and am looking forward to labor and birth and no longer being pregnant any more. At least in labor you're actively doing something instead of passively gestating. Once you're in labor and then the baby is born, then you can feel like you can get on with things. Pregnancy is such a time of waiting, getting bigger and bigger, growing more and more uncomfortable. I keep whining to myself about how much I hate being pregnant, then a quick reminder to myself and the baby that even though I hate being pregnant, it is much much better to stay pregnant until January. I don't want to manifest a miscarriage or pre-term baby because of my negative thoughts about being pregnant. That wouldn't be good.

Sorry for the whiney post. Twenty-two weeks (or so) to go... I think I can, I think I can, I think I can - just like the little blue engine.

ghosts of pregnancies past

2010-07-23T07:52:00.000-07:00

The return of contractions, most likely Braxton Hicks, has brought back the ghost of my pregnancy with Oona. It's my job to make those ghosts go away and be confident in this pregnancy as its own unique thing. I have to say that that is much easier said than done. After Oona, I swore I would never do this pregnant thing again. Semi-regular contractions, some Braxton-Hicks, some real, from 22 and a half weeks on was emotionally and physically exhausting. With Gemma, I pretty much had five minute contractions, real ones even if they weren't producing much of change, from 34 weeks until she was born at close to 41 weeks. It's easy to say that since I carried both girls to term in spite of the contractions that they're really not a big deal. But a baby's life is in the balance and it seems wrong to gamble it. And maybe if I hadn't rested, I wouldn't have carried to term. Is it possible to know for sure? So here I am, needing to rest to keep my uterus in check and the ghost of bed rest is taunting me. I so hope that it stays far far away and doesn't become a reality. Right now it's hard not to resent this little one for asking me to be his Mom and then I feel guilty about that. My job, now, is to keep those fears and ghosts at bay, forgive myself for the resentment and move on. I'm confident that once this is all over and I meet the little guy that it will have been all worth it.

I think one lesson of motherhood is that there are times when your agenda and how you think things should be is not the most important thing in the world and may be the least important. I'm not advocating the erasure of self that can happen with some Moms. There are times when self care needs to come first. And there are times, and this is probably one of them, that the desires of my self and my ego need to come last. Sometimes other things and other little beings are more important.

Pregnancies past... with Gemma, then me in my spot on the couch with Oona.

16 weeks

2010-07-21T07:52:00.000-07:00

What is it about pregnancy that forces you to face all sorts of things you would rather not? There's something about bringing a new life into the world and all the change that entails. I was talking to a friend about how for some women, pregnancy and motherhood is paramount to doing a spirit quest. For me, it is like that.

First, it was the boy conflict. How could I be a boy Mom? How does that relate to being a step-mom to boys? Will it be different? What does it mean to be a step-parent? Do I play a parenting role at all with the boys? (Yes, though it's half Mom, half the woman their Dad lives with.)

After I mostly resolved that conflict, I've been dealing with the conflict of being attached to Plan A which did not involve being pregnant again. It's been hard not to get mad at God and the Universe for asking me to have another baby. I liked Plan A, and Plan B with baby is not clear to me yet. Do I keep the girls in daycare/at school? Do I take them out? How soon will I return to work? Do I try to take the baby with me? Do I try to find a babysitter? What will having another baby mean in terms of timing for my career plans and aspirations? School? How? When?

Then, to top it all off, I start getting a lot of Braxton-Hicks contractions (or could they be real ones?) right at fifteen weeks. They eventually go away with rest but all the fears of bed rest and having my butt glued to the couch and having almost no control over my immediate environment all rear their ugly heads. I just can't tell the difference between Braxton-Hicks and real contractions. Part of me wants to just say that it's completely normal to get Braxton-Hicks contractions and I should just ignore them and have faith that they're no big deal. The other part of me sees the roulette wheel and I'm betting this baby's life if I ignore contractions that could possibly turn into pre-term labor. I'll be 36 weeks on December 7. I don't worry so much about contractions after 36 weeks.

So now, I get to find the balance between doing enough to not go crazy, and not doing too much so that I don't get too many contractions. Another quest? Probably...

13 plus weeks

2010-07-03T10:56:00.000-07:00

Phew! Only one in there. I have to say that I'm very relieved that I'm not having twins. I know that babies don't really like ultrasounds, but I also have to say, that I, personally, get a lot out of seeing the little one in there. With all the negatives of pregnancy, it is so nice to see a picture of the goal of it all - a little sweet baby with all ten fingers and all ten toes, heart beating, everything in the right place. They couldn't confirm it definitively, but it sure looked like a little boy! I'm both excited partly because my intuition has told me that it is a little boy, complete with name to be disclosed at a later date (though some already know it), and I'm nervous about being a Mom to a little boy baby. Boys are very foreign to me and I just don't get a lot of boy stuff. I have two step-sons and we have a pretty good relationship but I'm very grateful their Dad is around to understand the boy stuff. Will it be the same with this little one that I give birth to? Will there still be the foreign-ness of his boy-ness? Girls, now, I understand most girl stuff. I understand the thrill of dress-up and playing with dolls, and screeching around bugs, and not being interested in the rough and tumble, play fighting, extreme sports, and other types of super-physical adventuring. I had such an instant bond with my girls and love to be able to do girl stuff with them. How will it be different with a boy? Will I be any good as a boy Mom? Well, only one way to find out, right?

Yesterday, with the ultrasound, was a good pregnant day. Today is another story. I couldn't sleep last night because my heart was racing. I probably had too many simple carbs yesterday and all the stress from the ultrasound and we had a busy afternoon with a picnic. I'm extremely tired, cranky, exhausted, nothing sounds good to eat - especially things that I should be eating, and I feel completely and utterly behind with household chores. My house feels like it has exploded with dirt and chaos and I have to write a three page paper. And all I want to do is sit and stare at the wall. Even watching TV is too much energy. I really hope that no more spirit babies are out there wanting me to be their Mom. I'm not sure I could do this pregnant thing again.

twelve weeks plus some

2010-06-26T18:32:00.000-07:00

Random pregnancy craving, and it was very very tasty. Sweet potato cut up, tossed with olive oil, rosemary, salt and a little pepper, oven roasted until melts in the mouth. Yum. Probably too many carbs, though. It hasn't been a good week for me for carb counts. Tomorrow is another day and I'm planning on being good starting tomorrow. I have another yogurt attempt on my counter this time made with extra dry milk powder and whole milk greek yogurt which I found at Huckleberry's. I hope it is successful. That whole milk greek yogurt is not cheap! But it is super super super creamy and yummy.

Twelve weeks. I had my mid-wife appointment yesterday. Somehow I lost two pounds first trimester. Not complaining too much. I've been careful to make sure I was eating enough and I'm not sure where the two pounds went. I definitely don't look smaller than six weeks ago. Not worried at this point. I am scheduled for an ultrasound next Friday, though. I wasn't going to have one this early, but my mid-wife's eyes got really big when feeling my uterus, while noting that it was pretty large for date. I'm a twin, though most likely not fraternal. I'm 90% sure I'm not having twins. My brain can't even go there. We do not have seat belts for six kids. The 10% of me will be comforted by the ultrasound when it decidedly says that I'm not having twins. First of all, there was only one spirit baby. Second of all, I measured large for date with Oona early on. Third of all, it is my third pregnancy and my uterus could just be stretching really easily. Little guy has plenty of room in there. But it will be nice not to have a small niggling doubt in the back of my head. Could you imagine if I was having twins? That would be a huge joke on me...

ten and a half weeks

2010-06-12T07:15:00.000-07:00

Two weeks of nausea and exhaustion and my house is showing it. I keep hoping each day that I'll have enough energy to vacuum but that also involves picking up everything off the floor and just sounds like entirely too much effort. I've had a couple good days with less nausea but usually those have been work days. I've also discovered that something about the smell of my house, especially the kitchen, really is a huge trigger for me. So maybe I feel better when I'm at work because I'm not at home and because I can focus on one thing at a time instead of all the multi-tasking required of being a Mom. It's hard to multi-task when you're just trying to function. With baby number one, when you feel this way, you can lose yourself in a movie or in a book or take a nap or a long shower. Baby number 3 or 5? Not so much. Those opportunities are few and far between and usually happen when the girls are in bed which means that I am exhausted.

In an attempt to find some high protein foods that I can eat without gagging, I made this yogurt. It turned out pretty good though a little soupy and lumpy. I'm going to try again. This time, I might try Greek yogurt if I can find whole milk Greek. They didn't have it at my usual grocery store. I will also let it sit longer. And I will stir some of the hot milk into the yogurt start before adding it to the whole bowl of milk. I think maybe I didn't stir enough and maybe that is where the lumps came from. Still, I've been able to eat yogurt pretty easily. It's a bit high carb which is why I do whole milk because that increases the protein. I put vanilla and stevia in it.

Chips and salsa... that is one of the only things that doesn't make me remotely nauseous. I found multi-grain chips at Costco which have three grams of protein per serving. They also have flax seed. A little omega-3, or whichever omega it is, can't hurt.

Too much life happening right at the moment. Water spills, etc. This post may not be fully edited but don't want to save it for later.

eight weeks

2010-05-28T09:38:00.000-07:00

Something about turning eight weeks has left me completely exhausted. I'm twice as nauseous as last week and absolutely nothing sounds remotely appetizing though I've been able to choke my meals down in the attempt to keep my protein intake high and my blood sugar level. Take that back, chocolate cake with white frosting with lots of frosting roses and swirls all over it sounds absolutely delicious. In fact I had a dream last night about having one in my refrigerator. I was inhaling it and confessing to my husband that I had already eaten ten pieces. The dream sugar rush felt sooo good and the dream cake tasted soooo wonderful. Unfortunately, cake is not in the cards, and as with many pregnancy cravings, there are no adequate substitutes. But the thought of possibly not having gestational diabetes wins out over the thought of how delicious cake would taste. And as much as I complain about feeling nauseous, it could be way way way worse. I'm not needing to be hospitalized for dehydration because I can't even keep water down. That is good news, indeed.

I'd lay on the couch, but I don't have the energy to be climbed on and my girls do not need to be snapped at one more time today. I don't handle not feeling well very well and I have a hard time remaining cheerful. Maybe I would feel better if I did try to be cheerful? Hmmmmm... Might be a worthy experiment. I'll keep you posted.

seven weeks

2010-05-23T18:22:00.000-07:00

Seven weeks is really early, but at my appointment Friday I heard little spirit baby's heart beat. He (?) was in the perfect position so the mid-wife thought she'd give it a try. Isn't it amazing that a seven week embryo (technically speaking) has a heart beat? It was pretty neat and just made me love the little guy that much more - something about the reality making of hearing that little heart beating, if only for a brief moment.

This little one is either number three or number five depending on how you're counting. Since I count myself as Mom to the boys, even if only step-mom, it's number five. But it is also my third pregnancy and the three younger ones will have a really different life than the two older ones. I hope they'll still know each other when they're older, in spite of the boys being out of the house when the little ones will be so young. I'll only have five at home for two and a half years.

A friend posted a link to this poem and it made me think of this fifth child.

Song for a Fifth Child

Mother, oh mother, come shake out your cloth!
Empty the dustpan, poison the moth,
Hang out the washing and butter the bread,
Sew on a button and make up a bed.
Where is the mother whose house is so shocking?
She’s up in the nursery, blissfully rocking!

Oh, I’ve grown as shiftless as Little Boy Blue
(Lullaby, rockaby, lullaby loo).
Dishes are waiting and bills are past due
(Pat- a- cake, darling and peek, peekaboo).
The shopping’s not done and there’s nothing for stew
And out in the yard and there’s a hullabaloo
But I’m playing Kanga and this is my Roo.
Look! Aren’t her eyes the most wonderful hue?
(Lullaby, rockaby, lullaby loo).

Oh, cleaning and scrubbing will wait till tomorrow,
But children grow up, as I’ve learned to my sorrow.
So quiet down, cobwebs. Dust go to sleep.
I’m rocking my baby. Babies don’t keep.

1958 Ruth Hulburt Hamilton

update

2010-05-21T08:00:00.000-07:00

Today I will have my first appointment with my mid-wife for my pregnancy. So far my friend who said this pregnancy would be a lot easier than Oona's and Gemma's has been right on. I get tired easily and have some nausea, especially if remotely dehydrated. But if I rest when I need to rest and if I drink a lot of water, it's really not bad. I have soooo much more energy than I did with Oona. That is good news. Every now and again I worry that the lack of symptoms means that I have a higher risk of miscarrying, but whenever I worry about that, I get worse symptoms. So I think I shouldn't worry.

Being pregnant again is surreal. Every time my belly bumps into something, I'm like, oh yeah, I'm pregnant. My husband gets tired of me talking about pregnancy symptoms. But sometimes it's so hard to believe that I'm actually pregnant, each symptom is a reminder and pregnancy seems to create a one track mind in me. Even though this pregnancy isn't *exactly* a surprise, it is still a surprise. It wasn't necessarily in my five year plan or even my ten year plan. But here we go and welcome to the spirit baby. I will find out the gender and I hope it's the one he's told me it will be.

spirit baby

2010-05-17T07:47:00.000-07:00

There is no hiding it now. I was waiting to make an announcement, which is why I haven't posted in awhile, but there is no keeping it a secret anymore. Yes, I'm pregnant and am due the first week of January which puts me at between six and seven weeks. I could have hidden it with my first pregnancy, but baby number three? Not so much. You know how you can only think about baby and pregnancy and food when you're pregnant? That made it hard to do a blog post about anything else.

To put it into perspective, this is my sister and I at about five months pregnant, me with Gemma.

This is a side view of my sister and me, again at five months pregnant. My sister has a bit of a goofy look on her face but the belly is what is important. I carried soooo low with the girls. I'm carrying much higher this time. My sister had a boy and as you can see she was carrying much higher than me. So maybe this is a boy? I have warnings about heart burn but I'll take that over early contractions.

It's been a bit of a roller coaster emotionally. I'm still working up to excepting congratulations and even congratulating myself. I keep getting stuck with the thought, "who in their right mind has five kids???" Plus, I was done. I had no maternity clothes (thanks, friends!) and gave away most of my baby stuff. So it is pretty big for me to be pregnant again. Spirit baby was pretty persuasive...

Oona turned two today

2010-04-25T19:36:00.000-07:00

And she is two, with on her belly temper tantrums, and saying more and more words, and fighting with her sister, and giggling and screaming and running with her sister. Big brother, Patrick, took the video and is asking Oona all the questions.

2010-04-21T08:09:00.000-07:00

First, an update about doing low technology during Lent... It's now a couple weeks past Easter and it seems everybody is back in their old habits of movie and TV watching and it seems there are very few moments in the day that somebody is not on the computer. Sigh. It was nice while it lasted. I kind of liked the break. I don't like having the TV on all the time. And I don't like staring at the back of people's heads while they're sucked into the computer screen. Of course, I'm forcing the girls to do that with me right at the moment.

Part of why the blog has been quiet was that the boys didn't feel it was fair for me to be on the blog during Lent. They did seem to have to give up the most so I didn't post anymore. It was nice to see the boys outside and reading and hanging out with friends instead of hanging out with the computer. Lent has been over for a couple of weeks and I've been working up to post, not managing it, though, until this morning.

The subject of what you would do if you weren't doing what you were doing came up with my family recently. One sister said she would drive a metallic purple convertible volkswagon beetle instead of the minivan she uses to taxi her kids around. An aunt thought she'd get a tattoo, dye her hair magenta, and move out of her house in addition to the purple convertible. My fantasy included a Mini-Cooper, getting my hair and nails done and having a shopping trip where I buy frivolities like non-Mom clothes, shoes that aren't sensible, jewelry that you can't wear with toddlers, etc. I would also eat lunch out and get coffee and maybe even stay in a hotel (so that I'm not woken up before 5:30 a.m by wiggly and bouncy girls which has happened two mornings in a row, now). My fantasy then developed into a weekend in San Francisco with lots of yummy food and lots of fun shopping. I told my husband this fantasy and he just gave me that look which made me immediately realize how materialist and frivolous I was being. Ah well. I definitely could not live a life of constant shopping and pampering - that would be so empty feeling. But how freeing to have one weekend where you don't have to be the sensible Mom in sensible shoes with a pony tail because showering and doing your hair on a daily basis gets shunted to the end of the to do list, and where you don't have to be the Mom who cooks whatever was on sale and falls out of the refrigerator. How freeing it would be to be cooked for, to have somebody do my hair, to have somebody else clean my bathroom and make my bed for just one weekend, and to wear clothes without worrying about the next sticky hand print. Just for a weekend.

I think my husband would stay as far away as possible from anything to do with shopping. A biking and camping trip might top his list. That sounds fun in it's own way (as long as I'm the one driving the car or RV with all the extra camping gear like all of my pillows and extra blankets) but, it doesn't match the completely girly satisfaction of finding the perfect outfit and having a good hair day. And eating food cooked over a campfire or on a barbecue while nice and enjoyable, doesn't compare to the anticipation of the delicious food cooked by somebody else when eating out in San Francisco.

a few pics

2010-03-03T12:40:00.000-08:00

I thought were too funny. They kind of capture a certain part of each of the girl's personalities.

happy belated birthday and other miscellaneous tidbits

2010-03-03T07:48:00.000-08:00

My birthday was Monday this week. I had a lovely celebration with friends the day before. Another friend had her birthday on Sunday so it was a co-celebration. Then by Sunday night my stomach didn't feel well. So I got a stomach bug for my birthday, yay! Except for that, I had a pretty good birthday. I talked on the phone with family and received some well wishes. And I managed to eat a few bites of birthday dinner. I'm thinking of having a secondary birthday celebration on one of my quarter birthdays or on my half birthday. Since we have moved here, my birthday has been during a stressful time of year, especially for my husband, and one or more of us have been sick on my birthday. That's just no fun! June 1 is usually relatively stress free. Hmmmmm... Something to think about.

This morning I was able to eat some breakfast so I think I might be on the mend, fingers crossed and knock on wood.

The technology fast seems to be going well. I have to admit to cheating a tiny bit a few times, but overall I've been good. It's amazing how many times a day I would go on-line and just putz around. The most remarkable difference has been for the kids. The boys are playing outside way more and reading books we gave them for Christmas two years ago. The girls struggle with only one movie a day and I've caved a couple times when one of them or I was feeling sick. Even one movie a day seems like a lot in my head but when Gemma asks for a movie every five minutes, it's a good compromise.

I think the Schwarzbein diet is working and I'm easing out of what she calls the transition. The nice thing is that I don't crave sugar like I used to. I'm also shrinking and fit into jeans I was wearing last fall. I passed up the spiced jelly beans, cadbury cream eggs, and cadbury mini-eggs at the grocery store. While I feel sad about missing out on that holiday yummyness, it is so not worth it in the end. I wonder if alcoholics feel that way about holidays like New Years and stuff. I'll have to find some sugar free holiday traditions that will at least partially fill that hole. It is hard not to want those holiday sweets.

February

2010-02-17T08:35:00.001-08:00

February has been a full month. Life has been in full swing with some extras added in, like weekend classes, conferences and other extra engagements as well as fighting colds and sore throats. My class this term, towards my long term goal of being a Certified Nurse Midwife/craniosacral therapist, is New Testament and I'm finding the class challenging especially in regards to being reasonably respectful towards my professor who daily comes out with something that just doesn't add up for me logically. Anyways, this is not the location to vent on that score. I'll just say that hours have been taken up with ranting and raving and thinking and doing assignments which all seem to miss the goal of being worthwhile from a learning perspective.

Today is the first day of Lent. Our family has decided to severely limit technology time for Lent. For me, I'm only allowing myself to go on the computer once a day, which also means that I will most likely be quiet here. My husband will spend less time on news sites, etc, only using the internet for what's necessary for his work. The boys won't be able to spend their evenings watching videos on youtube or playing computer games while simultaneously having a movie playing on the TV. The girls are so young and won't understand the concept of Lent but we're limiting their video watching time to one a day. I think this will be good for us. It's so easy to get sucked into internet land and tv land and forget about the world that is your home. I wonder how it will be 40 days from now when we return to "normal." Will we resume our habits or will we have gained a perspective that keeps us more present in our lives?

Revenge of the little sister

2010-01-31T19:11:00.000-08:00

During bath time tonight, Oona exacted her revenge on her big sister Gemma. Now Gemma, despite being admonished by her mother that maybe Oona didn't like it, would dump buckets of water over Oona's head. Most of the time, Oona took it quietly, only whimpering after a couple of buckets - not tonight, though. Oona took that bucket, filled it with water and dumped it over Gemma's head while laughing her little head off. Gemma, on the other hand, did not take it as calmly as her little sister and did not find it at all funny. How dare this little interloper challenge her authority as dictator of the bath tub??? Oh, the screams! Her mother sat there intent on her knitting trying not to laugh. The revenge of the little sister. Watch out!

Seriously, though, it was hilarious which made it really hard to figure out what to do as a good parent.

On another sisterly note, the other day Gemma and Oona went into their room, closed the door, and played together for more than half an hour. My emotions were mixed - relief at not being climbed on, relief and happy that they were getting along and nobody was fighting, but also some sadness of feeling a little shut out and unimportant. Funny how that works. You want them to leave you alone for five minutes already and then you're like, what, you don't love me anymore? You want to go in your room and be by yourselves? Ah, the trials of motherhood... lol.

disappearing fabric mystery

2010-01-23T17:34:00.000-08:00

So...

A week and a day ago (I think) I was given a kitchen garbage bag full of very nice fabric including some very nice velvet and some girls size 7-8-10 patterns. I took everything out and looked at it and it didn't go back in immediately. Then Monday (I think), I finally got around to putting it all back in the bag. I left it in the kitchen (I think) not knowing where I was going to put it.

I had a brain fuzzy week and I thought no more of it.

The cleaning and putting things away bug bit me this afternoon. I thought to myself, "Oh yeah, where is that bag of fabric anyways?"

Eric and the boys are gone and I can't ask them. I can't find it. I looked everywhere I could think of. I started thinking. It looked an awful lot like a bag of kitchen garbage and it was sitting in the kitchen. No, of course, nobody would throw it away. Would they? And garbage day has come and gone. So...

I'm waiting for Eric and the boys to return and then this blog post will be completed. Until then...

Well, they're back and nobody knows or is willing to claim it. So for now it remains a complete mystery. Either it's gone or it will magically appear where I least expect it.

good news

2010-01-19T19:37:00.000-08:00

Three weeks and three days in, my depression has finally lifted. I was able to really feel present with myself and my girls this afternoon when I got home from work instead of feeling overwhelmed and like I was hanging on for dear life one moment at a time.

It feels good.

Now for my added inches, to shrink... What is strange is the scale at my office still says I'm the same weight. I don't think I trust scales anymore.

And now I'm off for a shower while Eric puts the girls to bed. Ended is the ritual of me sitting at the computer holding Oona while she falls asleep. She has joined the ranks of big girls and goes to sleep with Gemma and her Daddy. And I get a few moments to myself. Heaven.

further diet update

2010-01-16T17:44:00.000-08:00

I'm doing better today. Yesterday was a bit of a low point. I was depressed about everything but especially about my size and my body. All of my old body image demons were appearing and taunting me with images of myself as repulsive and gargantuan and just plain old fat. Those that know me know that those demons are not telling me the truth, but it is hard for me to not hear them and to not believe them. I realized yesterday that I've been struggling with sugar addiction and figuring out how to cut it out for the past five years. Five years! I hadn't realized that it had been so long. Then if you add the previous ten years to that. It's not a pretty picture. If I had a scanner I'd put in a picture of myself from my senior year in college. I'm skeletal, barely a hundred pounds and remember thinking it was a compliment when somebody told me they could blow and I'd fall over because I was so thin. Yay me! I had accomplished the feat of being thin. That was all I could think. I did better through grad school but still not that great and I've been trying really hard for the past five years to silence those demons.

One good thing about this diet, is that I'm not craving sweets. No other low carb diet that I've tried have I been this successful at quieting those cravings. It would take me six weeks into a no sugar challenge before I could feel like I wasn't thinking constantly about not eating sweets and when I could eat them again. It was really hard to keep sweets out of my diet. I'm three weeks into this plan and sweet wise, I'm doing good. I would be happier if I could manage to lose weight like Schwarzbein says happens once you're in balance. I'm trying to focus on improving my metabolism and my health. It feels weird saying that when most people would find aspects of the Schwarzbein plan unhealthy - especially fat content. But it's not Atkins by any stretch of the imagination. You eat a lot of vegetables and protein and you still can have fruit and whole grain carbs. In some ways it feels really strange and in some ways perfectly normal. I'm still willing to give it more time.

diet update

2010-01-13T07:02:00.000-08:00

Well, I'm 2 and a half weeks into the Schwarzbein diet - low carb but not low fat. I need to eat more vegetables, I think. The update? Well, I'm having what she calls in her book and on her web-site a healing crisis. She says people who are more out of balance can have an adjustment period including weight gain, mood shifts, hormone shifts, etc. I feel like my butt is growing an inch everyday. My clothes are getting really tight. Do I need to get some a size up? I'm having mood swings. My face is breaking out. I must have been really out of balance.

Her explanation (or my understanding of it) basically is that on a low fat high carb diet, your blood insulin level is high and your metabolism is slowed down - which is why you often feel like you have to eat less and less to maintain weight loss on long term low fat diets. So when you change over, your metabolism is still slowed down and your insulin is still high and so the insulin makes you deposit the extra fat you're not used to eating around your middle - thus the growing butt. This is supposed to shift over time. With lower blood insulin levels, your metabolism gets faster and you lose the fat that you've been depositing. It takes time. I hope it doesn't take too much time. I'm finding the weight gain a bit demoralizing. Do I ditch the diet or do I keep believing that it will work and keep plugging away? It's too soon to say, I think. If she's right, and my hormones will be more balanced by following the diet and since I had gestational diabetes twice my risk of Type II diabetes is higher and this should definitely prevent that, then it will be worth it in the end. Here's hoping.

Then since all hormones are interrelated and since insulin is a hormone, insulin levels effect other hormone levels - like seratonin and estrogen and progesterone. Another reason, is that many of our hormones are made out of fat so long term low fat diets can mess with your hormone levels because your body has a harder time finding the building blocks to make your hormones. My hormones feel very wonky and I've been more on the depressed side of things. Feeling fat, ugly, depressed and useless is not so much fun even if you know it's temporary, in your imagination, and because of your dietary changes. I've been dreaming of white bread and sweets and other forbidden goodies. I almost didn't eat lunch yesterday because all I wanted was the forbidden and because I felt fat and ugly. Warning bells harkening back to my eating disorder days rang in my head and so I did eat. (Note: anybody that knows me, I imagine, laughs at the idea of my feeling fat which is both true and also makes me feel bad that I feel fat when I shouldn't.) Here's hoping that feeling shifts, too.

Some yummy things I've found on the diet: Creamy baked eggs (two eggs into a lightly buttered ramekin, pepper to taste, parmesan cheese, and 2 T heavy all dairy cream - bake in the oven at 325 until set to your liking) and faux steamer (2 T heavy all dairy cream, vanilla to taste, stevia to taste, hot water to fill up cup) because milk has carbohydrates in it and sometimes you just need something with a little sweet taste.

And some pants I'm thinking would be good. Comfortable, stretchy and still nice enough to wear out and about. Or these. If I haven't started to shrink by four weeks into the diet, I think I'll have to find something.

war paint

2010-01-04T06:42:00.001-08:00

Oona had fun with the markers Santa brought. Belly buttons have also been very important as have binkies and wearing your pajamas most of the morning if not all day.

New Year

2010-01-03T06:49:00.000-08:00

I had a blue start to my new year that matched the blue moon, I guess. I think it was because I had a sugar binge and then I stopped cold turkey and my seratonin levels plunged. I also gained several inches to my waist in the process which I'm not happy about. In the past, I've lost those inches two to four weeks into the no sugar campaign. I'm really really hoping I do because if I don't, I will need to go out and by clothes the next size up. And I'm already having a hard enough time being the size I am which is one size bigger than I was before babies. So to be two sizes bigger than the clothes I had to get rid of because I gave up believing that I'd ever fit into them again. I struggle with negative body image and feeling fat. So this is an opportunity to change that.

To help that struggle, my main new years resolution is to eat well. My chiropracter recommended The Schwarzbein Principle. I've read it and it makes a lot of sense with my experience. So that is what I'm going to try for this year. And I'm really hoping it works for me. Schwarzbein says that it can take time for the program to work. But I like that. Too many of the quick fix diets don't last. If this one works, then I'll be following it for the rest of my life.

I was originally going to write a lovely post of New Year's resolutions. But my low feeling has left me feeling negative and sarcastic about myself. I'll stick with three:

- eat well
- be present
- be patient

Happy New Year! I'm sure I will de-funk soon and be more optimistic and cheerful. :)

bathrobes

2010-01-03T06:43:00.000-08:00

I took a picture of the guys in their Christmas robes. I'm happy that I actually took a picture. And I'm happy that they're happy with their robes. They're getting a lot of wear. Yay! They're not perfect. And I'm jealous and want one too but can't justify it because I have two other perfectly good robes. Ta da!

Eric's has tie-dye flannel lining. Patrick's has skateboard print flannel inside. And Jack's has space ship and outer space print flannel inside.

I made it past Christmas

2009-12-27T18:30:00.000-08:00

My last post was on November 30. Between then and now, I worked frantically on finishing Christmas presents. Maybe next year I won't sign up for so many, though I'm already thinking of things to make for people.

What I can remember that I made for Christmas this year:

- amigurumi spider
- amigurumi tiger
- amigurumi zebra
- amigurumi manta ray
- amigurumi cupcakes
- amigurumi cat
- amugurumi bunny
- pair of socks
- two dishclothes
- two mitered hanging towels
- 5 coffee cup sleeves
- 10 crochet snowflakes
- 2 toddler fleece bathrobes
- 3 mens large fleece bathrobes with flannel lining
- 2 silky pillowcases
- 3 fairisle hats
- two butterfly dolls
- one necklace pendant
- one necklace
- cable toddler cardigan
- toddler cardigan with crochet flowers
- one lace shawl

I think that is it. No wonder I've been busy! I'm sorry, though, that I don't have pictures of everything... That would make for a much more interesting post, but as one of my aunts says, "Oh well!"

Now I've started a sweater for me and a baby blanket for a friend.

Me and Oona

2009-11-30T08:18:00.000-08:00

I love this picture of me and Oona. She really likes being held upside down and when she's fussy, sometimes that's the only way to cheer her up.

Wynken, Blynken, and Nod

2009-11-28T12:46:00.000-08:00

From Owlishly's Sleepy Sarah pattern.

For a friend's first birthday. I'm really happy with how they turned out. If I was inclined to sell what I make, which I'm not particularly mostly because I have way to many things I want to make to focus on making things to sell, I would make these.

The Story of an Elephant

2009-11-28T12:37:00.000-08:00

A super cute elephant, who I couldn't part with.

He started as a gift for a friend for his birthday. Sorry friend... :(

I'm not sure where he'll end up, but for now he is staying with me.

Someday I'll learn the mystery of picture taking and light and backgrounds, etc.

Pattern from Lucinda Guy's Crochet Designs for Kids. She introduced the pattern as quick and easy which was why I attempted it. Ha! Lucinda Guy's quick and easy is not my quick and easy. But I love him.

my lap at nap-time

2009-11-21T12:47:00.000-08:00

Knitting, baby and cat. Days are so much better when Oona naps and how bad is it really to sit and knit with a baby asleep in your lap...

I just got Oona down for a nap and she semi-woke up and then all of the way woke up. I really really really hope this isn't one of those days where she thinks a five minute nap is enough.

the why's have it

2009-11-15T08:37:00.000-08:00

You know how development happens overnight sometimes? I've been wondering 'why' Gemma hadn't started the 'why, why, why' part of toddlerhood yet. Most of her friends are already in that phase and have been for awhile. Well, the why's have started with a vengeance this morning. It's gone from almost no why's yesterday to everything why today. Each baby/toddler/kid develops at it's own pace, right? That's something I have to remind myself of constantly. I tend to be so proud of the things she's ahead on and worry endlessly about the things she's either on track or behind on. Now, that is just nuts. I need to give that up.

In other news, I finished one hat yesterday. It turned out pretty good, though hopefully blocking will help. I guess I don't have to worry about Christmas knitting too much, then... I cast on for hat number two and will start it today. I'm doing the raglan decreases for Gemma's cardigan. I'm going to make some irish crochet roses like these. I hope they're not too big... I'll get to pictures one of these days.

And I'm on day two (again) of no sugar. I failed last attempt. So now I'm on a six week challenge and am thinking of doing a small prize at the end. Wish me luck. The challenge will go right through the holiday season. But maybe my waistband will be a little looser...

Sitting and knitting

2009-11-14T12:33:00.000-08:00

It is a good thing I have a lot of Christmas knitting to do. Separation anxiety is full steam ahead chez nous. Oona seems to cry the least if I sit in a corner of a couch, knit, and stay put. The second I move, even if to just go to the bathroom the fussing, whining, tears and screams start. I really love being a Mom, but sometimes I want to walk down the hall unimpeded by cries and little hands and feet that insist on being attached. Time to get the velcro out...

Speaking of Christmas knitting... I never used to do any but now my to do list is hopefully possible. I finished the shawl for my MIL except for blocking it. I'm half way done with hat one out of three. I have 6 little amigurumi dolls to make and one big one. And a sweater for Gemma. Plus, I have fabric to make bathrobes for Eric, Jack and Pat. It's over a month away, right? I can do it? Hopefully? See, it really is a good thing that Oona is insisting on me sitting on the couch and knitting. :)

baby quotes

2009-11-06T11:47:00.000-08:00

Oona
"Poop" (poop)
"Poop" (spoon)
"Ow-ee" (is she hurt, is she not? not sure?)

Gemma
"Stupid man! What's his problem?" (Hmmmmm, did I say that???)

Gemma: "Mama, you need a coat on."
Me: "That's okay, I'm wearing a warm sweater."
Gemma: "Mama, you need a coat on."
Me: "That's okay, I'm wearing a warm sweater.
Gemma: "Mama, you need a coat on."
Me: "That's okay, I'm wearing a warm sweater."
Gemma: "Mama, what is Gemma telling you?" (What I say to her when she doesn't seem to be listening to me, except, you know, I don't refer to myself as Gemma.)
Me: "lol. Gemma is telling me that I need a coat but I'm telling her it's okay because I'm wearing a sweater and because I'm the Mama."

eric's birthday cat

2009-11-04T18:57:00.001-08:00

I had a lot of fun making this cat for Eric for his birthday. His birthday was a month ago so this is a bit of a belated post. The pattern came from this book. I changed the colors to ones that remind me of Eric. And some bling as an impromptu addition made this Hep Cat into a religious bohemian scholar, complete with purple pants. The only thing I would change would be to find blue cat eyes instead of the green, which is what they had at Joann's. Originally he had a black nose but I thought that looked bull-dog-ish, so I added the pink. Have you ever seen a white cat with a black nose?

I feverishly finished it in one week. Phew! Hand cramps!

Gemma was really excited about Daddy's cat and almost spoiled the surprise.

bye-bye cake

2009-11-01T10:44:00.001-08:00

I just threw away half of a birthday cake. Wow. That was very hard to do, and to see it's sugary deliciousness sitting at the bottom of the garbage can. Sigh... I was very proud of myself, though. Throwing that cake away was an important step to going sugar free for at least the next while. My tightening waist band agrees with me. In the past month, with three birthdays, I got to toxic sugar levels. All I wanted to eat was sugar for breakfast, sugar for snack, sugar for lunch, for snack, for dinner, for snack. It's no wonder my waist band isn't so happy with me. So here I go, cold turkey, no sweets. I know I'll feel more human in two weeks. I forget how much sugar bothers me and affects my mood, etc. Then I go toxic and I remember. Then I have to repeat the hard work of going off sugar and I start marvelling at my new found levels of patience. Today, of course, patience levels are still very low. But past experience tells me I'll feel better soon...

The birthday cake was one thing. Add Halloween candy and baked goods gifted to us by a friend who got the baking bug and my powers of resistance are being sorely tested. Oona keeps eating half of a piece of candy, saying all done, and handing the rest to me. So far, I have won out and have thrown those away. They're kind of slobbery anyway...

So here I go. One minute at a time but very much looking forward to feeling better in a couple weeks.

inner nerd

2009-10-30T09:00:00.001-07:00

A ways back, maybe a couple years ago, I read an article by Martha Beck in the Oprah magazine that was about perfectionism. Do you know any perfectionists? I sure don't. (clears throat) Anyways... In the article, Martha Beck suggests you put your inner perfectionist in a corner when she gets to be too much. I liked this idea - a humorous way to detach and put your perfectionism in perspective. Last night, I decided I needed to do that with my inner nerd - the voice in my head that harkens back to middle school and high school and into college and possibly beyond. This is the voice that admires a quality in somebody else, wishes I also had that quality, and if I don't have it, my inner nerd reminds me how "uncool" I am. It's quite funny when you write it out. So my message to my inner nerd is to go back to middle school and get over yourself, seriously. Embrace your good qualities and if you admire a quality in somebody else so much, either adopt it for yourself or don't. If you don't, that doesn't mean that the person with the admirable quality is cool and that you're still just a middle school nerd. My inner nerd also needs to be reminded that she doesn't have to be good at everything. She seems to be pretty good friends with my inner perfectionist. Anyways, haven't you realized that nerds are the cool people by the time you get to adulthood?

So I'm sending my inner nerd to sit in the corner to ponder the bigger questions of life. She's a bit awkward with glasses and frizzy hair and not quite the right clothes. She's quiet and unsure of herself. Sometimes I love her and sometimes, she needs to go to the corner and be quiet because she's not being very helpful.

sisters

2009-10-28T13:08:00.000-07:00

I love watching sisters being sisters, except of course when they're fighting like sisters. But when sisters are being nice to each other and are being sisterly, I get the warm fuzzies all over...

remarkable oona moment

2009-10-23T10:15:00.000-07:00

Just now, Oona was taking spice jars out of the cabinet. I told her "We don't play with those. Can you put them back?" And she did it with no fuss or anything. I was very impressed. Every now and again, kids do things that really surprise and impress us, don't they? Other moments, though... a bit less remarkable. Like right now, Oona is fussy fussy and pulling on me and falling over and crying. What is it that she needs? If only I were that psychic, eh? Amazing how they can be so good one minute and so not so good the next.

naked baby

2009-10-10T09:00:00.001-07:00

I wish I had a picture and I wish I was better at taking pictures more frequently. I'm standing at the stove stirring brown sugar and butter together in preparation for making Brown Sugar Bars, a bar cookie from my childhood. I look over, and there is Oona standing very proudly half naked with her diaper off, taken off like big-girl underwears, and her pants off. And she's saying poop and looking at me hopefully, pleadingly. Surely she'll get a gummy bear for going poop like Gemma gets a gummy bear when she puts her pee or poop in the potty. I stand there not knowing how to react - a glimmer of hope that Oona will potty train easily and effortlessly and early (you can hope, right?) and also fear that I'm going to be cleaning up pee and poop from the carpet ad nauseum and wanting to laugh my head off. And wondering if I was doing the right thing by letting Oona have a gummy bear when she tells me she has poop in her diaper. Surely she'll get the connection some time, right? And she's sooooo jealous of Gemma for getting gummy bears. Which brings us back to the endless question of whether I'm being a good Mom or doing the right thing or or or...

BTW, we're all healthy for the most part again. And are staying warm with our functioning pellet stove. :)

still have a fever

2009-09-23T06:34:00.000-07:00

The boys are back at school. Oona went to daycare yesterday. Gemma stayed home but seems to be on the mend. Eric still hasn't gotten sick in spite of high stress levels and sleepless nights. And I still have a fever. That is pretty much my only symptom besides a minor sore throat - no cough, I can breathe through my nose, no headache. Just a fever and I'm really really frustrated about it! How long can a fever last for? Today is day 9.

sickness update

2009-09-21T11:32:00.000-07:00

The boys are back at school today with no fevers. Patrick had a bit of a weird cough this morning but no fever so I let him go. Eric still hasn't gotten sick and I'm extremely envious. Oona has a mildly drippy nose and no fever. Gemma woke up with her eyes glued shut and a very very green goopy nose, though no fever. She has a doctor's appointment at 4 pm. And I still have a fever - day 7. I asked the nurse at the pediatrician's if I should make an appointment for me at my doctor's if I've had a fever for seven days and she thought I really should. So I have an appointment at 3:15 at the same place my husband has gone for his annual blood work checks. I don't have a doctor outside of my ob/gyn, though I guess I do now. Maybe I'll get my cholesterol checked, etc. I usually don't go for what western medicine has to offer and am generally healthy anyways so haven't had a primary care doctor. But if you need antibiotics you need them and I'm half hoping that I need them just because I want to feel better already.

I just so want to return to real life. I was feeling better yesterday and was absolutely convinced that I would wake up with a normal temp this morning. I was so sad when I read the thermometer this morning. It was almost normal yesterday afternoon. But I've been shivery and hot and then I feel fine and then I feel awful. It is very strange. And I'm pissed off and depressed and annoyed and sad. I want to knit with my friends. I want my girls to be able to play with their friends. I want to go to work. I want to clean my house. I want to be able to go to the grocery store. I want to go for walks. I want to be healthy! Please?

The family that gets sick together, stays together, right?

2009-09-17T13:51:00.000-07:00

I started to write about when we had which colds or sicknesses this month but I don't think I could keep track of it all. I know there was a weekend where all six of us had a cold and we sat around our increasingly messy family room and watched movies. Then this past weekend and this week we've all, except for my husband, been hit with Influenza A which is assumed to be the H1N1 virus or in other words the Swine Flu. I'm still confused about whether Oona and Gemma had a cold last weekend or if they had the flu or if they're getting the flu now but their cases are more mild than their brothers which could be the case since they're both taking Tamiflu. Both Oona and Gemma went to my friend's house to be babysat last Saturday, in spite of the fact that Gemma had a goopy nose and Oona had a low grade fever all weekend. Nobody in my friend's family have gotten sick which makes me think Oona and Gemma just had a cold. But then even this week, their fevers haven't been as high as their brothers who have had fevers up to 102. Anyway, the general report is that this flu is like a flu but is not that big of a deal and though we all feel gross, we're not close to needing to be hospitalized or anything. The boys got sick on Sunday and have been out of school four days. We spent $100 in co-pays at the doctor with all four kids at the doctor at once in one room (an adventure, let me tell you...) on Monday and then another $200 in prescriptions - Tamiflu for all six of us, cough syrup with codeine, and Oona also had an ear infection and wheezing in her lungs so she got antibiotic and nebulizer treatments. I've cancelled two days of work. And we've watched The Little Mermaid, Beauty and the Beast, Shrek, Shrek 2, Princess Diaries, Monsters Inc, Incredibles, etc, ad nauseum in an attempt to get healthy - resting in front of the TV. I'm looking forward to swallowing without it hurting. But other than that, could be worse! And we have had a lot of family bonding time...

Also, I finished a cowl (knitting) and a wrap/shawl (crochet). Sorry I don't have picture yet. I already gave the cowl to its recipient and the wrap/shawl needs some serious blocking before pictures will do it justice.

Best in health to all and if you do get the flu, fluids and rest and vitamin c and tylenol so you can sleep and medical intervention if necessary. I think the news reports have been really scary about H1N1 but from where I'm sitting, it's not so very terrible, not worse than the regular flu, and now I'm getting immunity which is a good thing.

turns in the road

2009-09-02T08:49:00.000-07:00

We are drowning, or at least swimming, in, excuse the grossness, snot. All six of us (still boggles my mind that the number is six) are either sick or recovering from being sick right at the moment. I think I might hit a world record on number of tissues used between me, Gemma, and Oona. My recent project of fall cleaning - deep cleaning the whole house, yikes - is on hold until I feel better and we're existing in a very messy room with a movie on the TV. Thus, I'm writing on my blog, which has been sorely neglected of late.

We have also had new beginnings here. Jack started high school - a freshman - this year. Patrick started middle school. Gemma got a new teacher at her preschool/daycare. Oona has completely weaned (mostly a really good feeling, a little nostalgic and missing it but not too much.) Eric officially began as Associate Professor (a promotion). And I, Gretchen, started my first class in my planned very long journey towards becoming a craniosacral-doing-mid-wife. It will most likely take about ten years to accomplish that goal which is okay because then the girls will be old enough to understand when I'm not home in the middle of the night. I do have some hesitation about that part of the job. That and the giving shots part and having fellow students learn how to give shots with me being the guinea pig. I'm a bit squeamish about getting shots. But that has mellowed a lot since I've had babies. Anybody else noticed how having babies changes your life?

I had my first day of class yesterday. I got there early as did a whole bunch of other students. Nobody looked at each other or spoke. Everybody stared towards the front of the classroom, notebooks out, pens at the ready. That was a strange experience making me wonder what age people learn to strike up conversations with people around them and I also had flashbacks to being that age and not feeling comfortable talking to strangers, even if they were my peers. Strange. I wore a recently purchased backpack which helped me blend in. I don't think I looked obviously old. Of course, when I gave my husband a kiss, I felt like I had to explain that he wasn't having an affair with an undergrad - he's just married to one... Something about having that backpack on made me look and feel fifteen. I look young for my age anyway but that backpack was a clincher. The department head of the History department, who we've had to dinner at our house, didn't even recognize me as I passed him in the hallway. All of this brings on a bit of an identity crisis with how to be an older student at a school with students mostly in their late teens and early twenties. I'm good at identity crises though, having had many, complete with the question of "What do I wear?" How many times have I had the recurring dream of going through my closet and not finding anything to wear. For some reason when I'm trying to figure out how I fit into a new role, this time being an undergrad again, I start with wondering what in the world should I wear? What kind of clothes will overlap being a wife, a mother, a massage therapist and an undergrad student and will still somehow reflect me?

Life really does seem like an endless stream of transitions. I, for one, haven't felt like I go in one direction long before there's a turn in the road. I wonder when the next turn will be...

weaning?

2009-08-25T19:06:00.000-07:00

I've been thinking about weaning Oona for awhile. She's 16 months old - too old according to some and too young according to others. She's always been a bit of a chomper and nursing has been more uncomfortable/annoying for me than it has been great for the past couple months. Teeth indentations, you know. The question has always been when and do I have energy for the fallout. Well... She just went to sleep without nursing. Maybe this is the time? Thinking that makes me feel sad about already having had our last nursing session (four in the morning this morning) and then I remembered how grumpy I was at four this morning only wanting to be asleep. Is it time?

saturn opposite venus

2009-08-23T13:13:00.000-07:00

I'm so glad this transit ends this month. Better make sure Eric's tough relationship transits end soon, too. I realized this morning that I hadn't posted in August yet. It hasn't been the easiest month. From astro.com:

Saturn opposition Venus: Adversities

Mid November 2008 until end of August 2009: This influence often signifies a crisis in your personal relationships. Love seems harder to come by, and you may cool off toward those who used to be dear to you. Or they may cool off. This is a period of testing old relationships to find out whether they can survive and make a contribution to your life. It is rather difficult to establish new relationships, for this is a time for culminating the old, not beginning anew.

This influence indicates that your need for relationships is in strong conflict with your need to feel like a distinct, separate and definite individual. Either you are such an individualist in your relationships that others find it difficult to relate to you, or the relationships smother your sense of individuality. You may feel very lonely even in the presence of your loved ones, because a wall has been built up between you and them.

Ah... looks like I have until next March. A transit for Eric:

Uranus square Ascendant: Sudden separations

End of March 2009 until beginning of March 2010: This influence is likely to have a very disruptive effect on your relationships. Influences may enter your life, either through your home or your profession, that will challenge the foundations upon which your life is built. This challenge will be reflected in surprising encounters with others that upset your way of living or in sudden separations from persons who you thought would remain in your life for some time. Or it may be that you yourself are the catalyst of all these changes as you seek to become free of circumstances that have become oppressive.

During this period it is quite likely that you will do things and go places you never would have thought of in the past. The old patterns of your life simply can no longer encompass what your life is becoming now.

From all of the above it should be obvious that this is not an "evil" influence, although anyone who is wedded to the status quo in life or to their own past will find this period difficult to contend with. Old patterns that have acquired a stranglehold over your life will break up. You may not have been aware of these patterns, because many people find their "strangleholds" quite comfortable, at least until much later on.

The people who enter your life at this time may be quite different from anyone you have known before. Some of these relationships may be quite brief. You may encounter someone for a specific purpose, which you may not be aware of at the time, and once that purpose is accomplished, the relationship ends.

If a new love interest enters your life at this point, it is likely to be exciting, free and totally unpredictable. Do not make a permanent commitment to it until well after the end of this period, for such a relationship is likely to be very unstable and brief.

on a lighter note

2009-07-29T08:51:00.000-07:00

I heard Gemma say "Damn it!" the other day. Must watch my language! I have to fully admit that I am not alwas PG. Better start saying Fudgesicles! Schneikes! Darn it! Oopsadaisy! and one my Mom and Dad said "Heavens to Mergatroid!" My Dad said it comes from his Father. But looked it up on-line and it's actual origin is:

A humorous alteration of the idiom "heavens to betsy." Popularized by the '60s cartoon character Snagglepuss, who was a regular on the Yogi Bear Show. "Murgatroid" is sometimes spelled "murgatroyd" or "mergatroid." (from urbandictionary.com)

warning - topic potentially controversial

2009-07-29T07:53:00.000-07:00

Warning... I'm going to talk about things related to religion in this post.

But first I'm going to a brief side note about how frustrating it is that the minute I sit down to blog for the first time in a week, Gemma and Oona decide they need me right this minute.

Sooo... brief history. I'm a preacher's kid. My Dad's a retired minister. My formative church experience involved a lot of icky church politics. And my thoughts were if this is what it is to be a Christian, then I want NOTHING to do with it or any religion at all because really, religion is created by man to try to explain the unexplainable. Easy dismissal there of all religion. I also absolutely refused to darken a door of a church.

Then, I got older and had experiences I called spiritual. So I would acknowledge that I believed that there was something beyond the material realm. Then I met Eric who didn't really talk about his faith when we got together. We talked about things like astrology and tarot. Turns out he is Catholic and devout Catholic at that though he is also really interested in anthroposophy and thinks there's something to astrology. What I admire about Eric is he doesn't dismiss things, like I was doing. He really thinks about them and considers them. He is what I would consider truly open minded. He has his opinions but he will consider yours and is open to being persuaded otherwise. Of course, if your opinion is one that he's considered and has decided that it doesn't hold water he'll tell you so and he'll tell you why. We've had quite a few interesting conversations and I have to say this is something I love about Eric. He has the gift of explaining things. That's why he's a good teacher.

So as my barriers to all things religious are being removed - and let me tell you they were strong barriers, thick brick walls reinforced with steel - I've decided that I need to read the Bible. I've never read the whole thing and it seems silly to dismiss the whole thing if I've never read it. I'm on Leviticus right now (Genesis, Exodus, Leviticus) so not so far. It's kind of slow at this point but makes for good bed-time reading - easy to fall asleep after a few pages. But the irony is what's getting me. I don't understand how anybody can read the bible literally and without including historical context and the human element. Right after God gives Moses the ten commandments, including though shall not kill, the sons of Levi avenge the rape of their sister and kill a whole bunch of people. And then God tells Moses to stone people to death if they don't follow his rules. Eric tells me that this makes sense historically and would match better the expectations of people at that time and that you can't look at it from a modern perspective and I think he's right. But still, I'm wondering how they thought stoning somebody to death wasn't murder.

P.S. A couple days later... It was pointed out to me that I didn't quite finish my thought here. My surprise re: stoning to death related mostly to a man who was stoned to death for blaspheming the Lord during an argument. The severity of the crime doesn't seem to warrant the severity of the punishment and forgiveness, repentance, reconciliation, or the possibility for rehabilitation isn't touched upon. Stoning to death in Biblical times is similar to the death penalty or to the military or police being able to kill. But even now, in the modern era killing is only permissable in self-defense and punishing your fellow citizens, no matter how badly they have behaved, by killing them is a hotly debated, especially for serial killers and the ilk, but largely looked down upon practice.

who's who? some first and early day pics

2009-07-15T19:55:00.000-07:00

The first three are Oona and the second three are Gemma. Interesting to see Gemma crying and alert and moving and Oona so quiet and spacey and tired.

birth story/stories plus

2009-07-15T06:48:00.000-07:00

I have been meaning to write Oona's birth story for quite a while now. She is almost fifteen months old. Every time I start, though, the beginning of the story gets pushed further and further back in time because so many things lead up to the girls' birth and reflect the choices I made.

This is going to be a really really long post. Feel free to read or not to read as you so desire.

Before I ever thought of getting pregnant with Gemma, I was worried about my fertility. In 2000, I discovered that I had a mass on my left ovary that needed to be surgically removed. It was about the size of a tennis ball and was diagnosed as a fibroma being mostly calcified material though there were some teeth in it which is like a dermoid cyst. The surgery was pretty traumatic for me. I was the first person in my family to have to have surgery and somehow I thought this was a personal failure. Also, my ex-husband wasn't able to be all that supportive through it. I also got pneumonia while recovering. And I've had quite a bit of pelvic pain ever since that surgery. So surgery on my ovary plus pelvic pain equals worry about my fertility.

Fast forward a couple years, my ex and I split and I met Eric. I had been on the pill since I was seventeen. I went on the pill because I had two and a half week long cycles and because I wanted a reliable form of birth control. In retrospect, it probably wasn't the wisest decision to go on the pill, but hey, I was seventeen. Fast forward again, my older sister found out that she had Factor V Leiden which is a genetic clotting factor. If you have this factor, being on the pill isn't the best idea. I didn't have health insurance so couldn't afford to get tested so decided to try the progesterone only pill as a precaution. Estrogen in the pill is what effects clotting. I felt AWFUL on the progesterone only pill so after awhile decided to go off the pill altogether. I felt even more awful after going off the pill. It took me three months to get my cycle. I got a hemorrhagic cyst on my right ovary which, let me tell you, is very very painful. I couldn't even stand up straight. That precipitated my elopement with Eric so that I could get health insurance. Then my ovary pain was a pre-existing condition so I couldn't seek treatment for it for six months. I had three different pelvic exams that came back as normal with nothing wrong and nothing to explain the pain which was very frustrating to me. I had heard about Dr. Fern and what a good doctor he is but he only takes doctor to doctor referrals for new patients. So I went to another doctor (clear pelvic exam once again) and he ordered an ultrasound. I had a polyp in my uterus so he referred me to Dr. Fern. At the first meeting, Dr. Fern could palpate where my pain was and said it was from scar tissue and thought I might have endometriosis and he would recommend a laparoscopy for that and a hysteroscopy to remove the polyp. The polyp could prevent pregnancy in the same way that a IUD does. Yikes, surgery, been there, done that, was NOT fun. After lots of thought, though, I did decide to go ahead with it. Being a massage therapist and also believing in a lot of alternative medicines, I didn't make this decision lightly because I had had so much trauma from my first surgery. Ultimately, what I felt from my gut was that even though I knew I could most likely heal completely with alternative medicines, having a second surgery with a doctor I trusted and with a supportive husband would actually help heal the trauma from the first surgery and I would also know what was causing the pain. For me, knowing that I have endometriosis and that is what causes all the pelvic pain has been comforting and has helped me have more direction as I seek alternative treatments for it. No more wondering why and what and wherefore. The surgery did cause more scar tissue but it balanced out the scar tissue I already had and it seemed to take the emotional charge and trauma out of having surgery in the first place. So now, I have no polyp and fewer adhesions and all of this should help my chance of getting pregnant, though I'm not quite ready to try. My second surgery was summer of 2005.

Fast forward again to winter of 2005. We decide to try and see what happens. I get my period and am disappointed and am worried because endometriosis and surgery on your ovaries can cause infertility. I know in my head that is only one month, but I still worry. My twin sister calls and tells me that she is pregnant on the first month. She had assumed it would take her awhile to get pregnant and it doesn't so the timing is a little stressful for her. I burst into tears at the news (not the best reaction and did I mention my twin sister and I were barely on speaking terms at this point in history?) Little knowing that I was already pregnant, two weeks later I had the positive pregnancy test. I was on top of the world. I had felt this little girl soul calling to me telling me that it was time for her to be born. And here I was pregnant. I didn't know that she was a girl yet and even at the first ultrasound when she was old enough to be able to tell, she kept her legs together and you couldn't see anything. Now comes the question of whether I continue using my gynecologist as my OB or find a mid-wife. I like my doctor quite a bit. He has even done a c-section using acupuncture as the anasthetic so I know he isn't closed to natural childbirth and if something were to happen, I would trust him to handle it and he explains things well and has an excellent bedside manner. Plus I want to keep him as my gynecologist and he's hard to get into. The easiest path is to have him as my OB. His one drawback is that he is conservative about inducing and doesn't like his mom's to go far past forty weeks gestation (as confirmed by ultrasound.) I decide on hypnobirthing and natural childbirth in the hospital. I never really seriously considered home birth at the time. Partially because I like my OB. Partially because I don't want to labor in front of my two step-sons, our relationship especially at that point didn't really allow for that kind of intimacy. And partially because my safe place, like a cat or other animal who finds their place to birth, is the hospital. I'm very clear in my birth plan that I don't want any intervention unless it is medically necessary and is clearly explained to me. I do find comfort that if something does happen, I have medical support.

Pregnancy with Gemma - we move to our new house in early pregnancy. There were mice and the smell really got to me. I was really exhausted throughout the first trimester. I never threw up but sure felt like it. I could not eat eggs or black pepper at all. The second trimester was much better. I had more energy and unpacked more boxes and got the house set up. I continued to work at my job as a massage therapist. Acupuncture helped a lot with heartburn and nausea and everything like that. Third trimester, I find out I have gestational diabetes but that I can control it with diet. Because of the gestational diabetes, Dr. Fern really doesn't want me to go too far past term but will let me go to 41 weeks. At 34 weeks, Gemma drops (I have learned that she is a girl by now and we're pretty sure what her name is) and I'm having five to ten minute mild contractions but don't think anything of them because they're mild. They must be Braxton-Hicks. I see the nurse practitioner and I have some softening and effacing of the cervix. She sends me over for a non-stress test which monitors babies heart beat which should go up a bit every time they move. This is a precaution for mom's with gestational diabetes which can be a stressor on babies and they want to know how the baby is handling the blood sugar issues. Turns out I'm having five minute regular contractions (Braxton Hicks contractions don't show up as contractions on the ultrasound monitors) and since my cervix has softened, they count it as pre-term labor. I have to have the awful shot to stop labor but they do let me go home. My doctor puts me on Procardia which makes me feel absolutely awful and gives me really restless legs. He puts me on another medicine to stop the restless legs. So I'm on bed-rest for two weeks which is not easy when you're used to working, even if only part time. At 36 weeks he takes me off the meds but recommends that I rest for another couple of weeks. Somewhere in there, I think that since I was considered to be in labor at 34 works and the contractions are the same as they were then, then I must be in labor now. We go to the hospital as a false alarm and it was not a fun experience. The nurse who checked me was not gentle. It just wasn't a good experience. After that, I was determined to stay at home as long as possible and my doctor said to wait until it was difficult to walk through my contractions. At 38 weeks, I start moving around and start going for walks, etc. My twin has her baby October 18. I pass the forty week mark. How in the world can I be going past-term if I had pre-term labor? I get acupuncture. I have sex. I do nipple stimulation. I eat spicey food. I notice that the right side of my uterus is contracting harder than my left so I get some bodywork and visceral manipulation which helps balance my uterus. I go on my hands and knees to effect the position of Gemma's head. I get acupuncture again. My sister comes to help with the baby who isn't born yet. We walk, we go grocery shopping, we talk, we walk some more. I try a small dose of blue cohosh and a little castor oil (not enough to cause intestinal distress). This whole time, since 34 weeks, I've been having five to ten minute contractions and have been about two centimeters dilated for about a week. The day is October 27 and I'm scheduled to be induced November 1. At the grocery store they become a little stronger. We have dinner. We're sitting and watching a movie and they're kind of a little stronger and I squeeze Eric's knee every time I have one. I decide to go up and take a shower. They get stronger and closer together (like three minutes or so.) I want to lie down. My sister sees me and suggests that I might want to head into the hospital. She stays with the boys which was awesome because I didn't have to worry about the boys at all. The more serious contractions started around 7 pm. We get to the hospital at 8 or so. NO cervical change at this point which I find disappointing and have a moment of panic about being able to do this for how long? We do our hypnobirthing and put Steven Halpern music on the cd player. I get in the tub but get overheated and am not comfortable. I mostly sit on the bed and rock which suprises me. I thought I'd be able to lay on my side and really relax. I have to go to the bathroom a couple times. I have a really supportive nurse who likes natural childbirth. My contractions are really strong and right on top of each other - every minute and a half. I don't get to rest between contractions but that's okay. I focus on how effective they're being at opening my cervix. I'm fully dilated at 11 pm, my water breaks and I'm ready to push. The doctor isn't there yet and they've called the on-call guy. I don't care if the doctor is there or not. I'm pushing. I remember a pause in contractions and just resting for a moment. And a couple more pushes and she was born at 11:30 pm, about ten minutes after the doctor got there. They gave her to me right away. I was on top of the world. I had done it. Hypnobirthing was wonderful. I had a beautiful baby girl. I couldn't wait to do it again. She was beautiful and perfect and high apgar. She stayed in my room with me and we nursed and nursed and nursed (she was a cluster nurser so would nurse for a really really long time and then sleep for a really long time.) Her blood sugar was low when she was born and she had a little bit of formula but barely any. Eric stayed in the room with me. The only problems I had was that I had second degree tearing and I couldn't adjust to the difference in fluid pressures and so passed out whenever I stood up. I distinctly remember hearing the roaring in my ears. So I couldn't go to the bathroom and they were worried about my bladder being too full which can cause too much bleeding and I had lost a fair amount of blood already. So they did a catheter which kind of worked. And ultimately I laid on a bed pan. My uterus was firm enough, too. So I just stayed up most of the night watching my baby and loving every moment of it. Gemma Winifred. Winifred for my great grandmother. Gemma for St. Gemma and also a name that starts with g like her Mom and her grandmother and also Eric's great grandparents were John and Emma and my grandparents were Gerald and Irma and if you mush all that together you get Gemma.

So that is the Gemma portion of the story. I return to work when she is four months old, two days a week. She does fairly well in daycare. I enter into the most bizarre of all bizarre conflicts with my boss at work and ultimately decide to leave that job. I felt that I had to love my job and the work situation enough to make up for leaving my baby at daycare and after that conflict and foreseeing the future effects of the conflict, it just wasn't enough. That was really hard for me because I had truly loved my job. But the relationship with my boss and where she was heading, just wasn't the right thing. I worked out of my home for a bit. I knew I wanted a second baby so that Gemma wouldn't be like an only child, being ten and twelve years younger than her brothers. And I knew that I didn't want to work really hard to build up my practice then go on maternity leave again. My work life was on hold. So Oona's conception was wrapped up in that conflict - the conflict between my work and being a mother and finding a balance between the two. And it was pushed a little ahead in time because I left my job and was in limbo. If things had been different, we would have waited a bit longer. Gemma was about nine months old. I planned on tandem nursing. I had had a few cycles and we went ahead and went for it. I could also sense Oona out there waiting for me to be ready though she wasn't quite ready yet. Then she was and I was pregnant and my milk dried up and I had to wean Gemma because she would not take a sippy cup at all and I did not have any milk left. I was excited to be pregnant and happy about having another baby. But it wasn't the top of the world. There was some compromise there. I had absolutely no energy. I did a couple massages a week, got Gemma food, changed her diaper and that was all I could handle. I couldn't clean, cook, do laundry. I was a mess. My Dad came out, even, because he wasn't employed at the time and helped do laundry and take Gemma for a couple walks so I could REST. Second trimester was better. I cooked a lot of double meals and put the extras in the freezer. Then right before Christmas at 22 weeks pregnant I started getting regular five minute contractions that wouldn't go away until I had rested for several hours and they started up again if I did any activity. I did NOT want to be on the meds again so put myself on partial bed rest. Gemma and I read a lot. I knitted and crocheted a ton. It was one of the hardest things I ever did because you don't feel that daily sense of accomplishment. You succeeded in incubating a baby for one more day which is huge but doesn't feel huge when you're in it. We rented the series Monarch of the Glen. The boys had to help out a ton, vacuuming, dishes, you name it. Eric had to do a ton. I would see Eric for about twenty minutes a day as he was trying to keep it all together. And I would sit on the couch and watch it all go by. Knitting and crocheting saved my sanity. I also did some homeopathics which helped a lot. My doctor let me do daily blood sugar tests instead of taking the awful sugar tests. I had gestational diabetes again and this time, it couldn't be diet controlled and I went on meds, though not insulin. Having gestational diabetes makes your pregnancy considered to be high risk. I had considered switching to a mid-wife if I had a low risk pregnancy but with my history and with my pregnancy being considered high risk, I decided to stay with my OB. It was a hard winter with a lot of snow and I went a period of six weeks without going further than my front porch except to go to the doctor's office. My friendships from my old job weren't strong enough to withstand not seeing each other regularly at work. I was really completely isolated. I make it to 36 weeks. Yay! I made it! I take myself off bedrest because I don't want to go post-term. I start moving and walking, slowly. I start to dilate and am three centimeters dilated. I have so much false labor it isn't even funny. I try homeopathics, walking, sex, nipple stimulation, spicy food, acupuncture, blue cohosh (which doesn't work this time). I did visualizations. When I did my visualizations I saw this darkness blocking Oona from being born. During acupuncture, this cleared but she still felt really hung up to me. Something was happening that was keeping her from fully engaging the cervix. Finally, I hit the day where I'm scheduled to be induced, April 25. I'm so disappointed. I thought there was no way I could have gotten to this day with all the contractions I had and being dilated for so long. But I showed up at the hospital. The only thing I question is whether I could have pushed Dr. Fern to let me go longer. They don't want to break my water because her head isn't fully engaged and there's a chance the cord could fall through and cause problems for the baby. So they start the IV. I do my self-hypnosis. I have contractions and they get really close together but they were nothing to write home about. Dr. Fern comes in and wants to break my water and almost gets there and it's really uncomfortable and I say no, it doesn't feel right so he doesn't push it. I go to the bathroom. I walk around the room. I get bored. I fully expected things to take off because that is what my sister experienced and because Gemma's labor was so fast. I sit on the birth ball and focus on engaging Oona's head with my cervix and envisioning my cervix opening to help things move along. Oona's heart rate dips quite a bit several times and the nurse comes in and wants to put a monitor on her head. We try some different positions and with my laying on my side, Oona's heart rate is fine. I lose it and become super emotional. All the natural birthing books say that not being able to move makes labor stop so I feel doomed. I have to lay down to keep the baby safe and now the nurse wants to put a monitor on the babies head to make sure it is doing okay. I'm doomed, this is horrible, I can't handle it. I cry, I try to get Eric to understand, he doesn't seem to get it. Finally, Dr. Fern comes in and explains it to me and I do better. I say no to the monitor unless Oona shows more signs of distress and he is fine with that. I have to continue to lay down to keep Oona from showing signs of distress. I finally let him break my water. I'm getting really tired from the drama of the day at this point. The contractions automatically become five times as strong as before they broke my water. I can't relax into them and this is when the effect of the pitocin became too much. I couldn't relax and I couldn't anticipate the contractions as well because something from outside of me was controlling them. I very clearly in my mind knew I needed an epidural. I couldn't relax and I was getting exhausted. It was very matter of fact and I asked for one and the anesthesiologist happened to be right there and she set me up and I lay down on my back for it to take effect and was able to relax and in that space of time my dilation completed and Oona was in the birth canal. The nurse put in a catheter and drained my bladder which I was thankful for. I pooped on the table - geez, I thought I was already empty but nothing I could do about it. I still had enough feeling that I felt the poop come out and could feel my contractions and that Oona was in the birth canal but I kept quiet. The nurse wanted to put the monitor on Oona's head and went to do it and Oona's head was right there which really surprised the nurse. She called Dr. Fern and I got ready to push. Maybe four pushes later, her head was out and Dr. Fern told me to stop because the cord was pretty tight around her neck. He cut her cord then which tells me it was too tight to unwrap without cutting it. And then she came the rest of the way out and the cord was around her wrist as well. No wonder I felt like she was hung up. She was! A nurse practitioner said she was accessorizing which helped me laugh about it. She was born at 5:56 pm after twelve hours of being at the hospital. I held her right away and nursed her but could tell something was off. They tested her blood sugar and it was really really low and they took her to the NICU and put her on an IV. I was stitched up for slight tearing and had a mole that had gotten really big removed from down there and then I got settled in a room. They took me up in a wheel chair to NICU and I nursed Oona. The NICU doctor told Eric that if I insisted on nursing exclusively that Oona would be in there for two weeks. It can be hard for babies to regulate their blood sugar if their mom had gestational diabetes and glucose feeds their brains so their brains can be starved if their blood sugar gets too low. But I nursed her for as long as she wanted every three hours and her blood sugar stabilized in two days and she didn't need to be supplemented at all. Thank goodness for that. It was hard to have Oona in the NICU instead of with me. It delayed our bonding and Gemma couldn't meet her and the boys couldn't meet her. And it was really hard to have been induced. When I ask whether it was in my best interest to be induced, I get a decided "no." But when I ask whether it was in Oona's best interest for me to be induced, I get a decided "yes." I have grief about how Oona's birth went, but deep down, I know it was what she needed and I have learned to trust my gut.

I have had it come up that Oona only had low blood sugar because they didn't let me eat at the hospital. I did eat a really big breakfast before I went (in spite of being told not to) and they did let me have some soup. I think it did make her blood sugar lower than it would have been but Gemma also had low blood sugar and I had had a full meal five hours before she was born and wasn't hungry during the labor at all. Then it came up that she only had distress because I had pitocin. Well, yes, the pitocin probably added to the stress but maybe her cord had something to do with it. There are babies who are born with the cord wrapped around with no ill effect. It just depends on how tightly the position of the baby and the shape of the mom's pelvis and location of the placenta and everything else. I chose the care I chose to help protect my baby and myself and if I were to do it again, I would make the same choice, even though the outcome wasn't exactly what I would have hoped for for myself and for Oona. I believe that it was right to take the gestational diabetes seriously, especially in Oona's case because I couldn't control it with diet and almost had to go on insulin in the end. Gestational diabetes isn't that big of a deal if you can control it with diet but if you can't, it can cause serious problems for the baby. Contracting a lot before term without any cervical change could have been no big deal but it also could have been pre-term labor and a preemie baby which can be a really big deal. I think the precaution of resting and listening to my body and keeping myself from having frequent contractions was a wise decision. The only think I would have done differently is ask the doctor for another week. But I didn't because I thought it was impossible for me to go post-term when I was already dilated so much and having had sooo many contractions.

Oona Cecilia - Cecilia for Eric's Dad's aunt who was killed in an airplane crash and Oona because we were trying to find a name that went nicely with Gemma and when I read the name Oona to Eric and he said it back to me, there was a bubble in my stomach like Oona was telling us that was her name. She came home Sunday afternoon and slept in her car seat and spent time with Dad while Mom and Gemma had special time together and Gemma cried and let her Mom know she was mad that she had been gone and then went and brought an interloper in. After Gemma got it all out, she did really well and loved her baby sister. My Mom came the next week and Eric took off for a couple conferences. And we all adjusted to being a big family now - four kids.

mini-brag

2009-07-05T11:08:00.000-07:00

Pat is vacuuming and did it without anybody asking him to. A huge huge huge help and I am so grateful. And it's so very very cool that he just started doing it. I was about to do it grumpily and out he came with the vacuum cleaner and away he went and cheerfully, too. Some lady in the future is going to be very lucky. And a lesson to me how good it feels when somebody cleans up and is cheerful about it - which is a particular challenge of mine. Well, both are challenging - cleaning is challenging for me and cleaning cheerfully is almost impossible. Something to practice, though, because it does feel really nice.

the welcome home of all welcome homes

2009-07-01T08:29:00.001-07:00

On arriving home from work last night, both babies started crying. Gemma took a break and gave me a big hug and showed excitement to see me. In the end, I just laid down on the floor and had two screaming babies crawling all over me. I figured they were mad about something and who can blame them when I've been gone all day. It's not the most relaxing way to end your day, though.

Three nights ago, I decided to do an experiment and put the side of the crib back on Oona's crib. The first night she was up for about a total of three hours. And then the same thing happened the next night. Last night, I took the side of the crib back off and returned the crib to the side-car position and Oona did much much much better. I, of course, start wondering when I'm ever going to get to sleep in my room with no babies in it. I mean Gemma was sleeping by herself in her crib next to our bed when she was Oona's age and moved into a toddler bed at the other side of the room shortly thereafter, so why can't Oona do the same thing? I guess this is another reminder that just because they're sisters doesn't mean they're they same. And sleep is a precious commodity so you do what you do to get the most possible. I'm really really really really really looking forward to when Oona and Gemma will share a room and my room will be my room once again. In that way, it's the same as being pregnant. By the time the baby comes out, you're really ready and don't care about being in labor. So by the time it's time for Oona to go into her own room, I will be really ready so won't be so sad, though I'm sure I'll be a little sad.

On another note, we're excited to get visitors this coming weekend. My sister and her family are coming as a mid-point in a quite ambitious camping trip.I'm going to make sure my camera batteries are charged and hope to get some good pictures. It will be really nice to see my sister.

rapunzels

2009-06-26T14:08:00.000-07:00

In the fairy tale about Rapunzel, Rapunzel's mother sees rapunzels in the witches garden and must eat them or she will surely die. I am feeling that way right now about chocolate. If I don't eat chocolate, I will surely die and wither away into nothing. Rapunzel's mother wants rapunzels so badly that she ends up trading her baby for them. Rapunzel then belongs to the witch who locks her away in a tower. What is the price I would pay for chocolate right now? Good question...

and so the wheel turns

2009-06-26T08:17:00.000-07:00

I think the girls are transitioning into daycare pretty well. Gemma's teacher told me that Gemma will hold onto her necklace when she's stressed out. Yay! I'm really glad that that idea worked out so well. Both girls seem a little over-stimmed at the end of the day but other than that, they seem to be having a fun time overall. And with them in daycare, my practice is starting to take off. I don't have an opening right now until July 9! I'm doing my best at believing/hoping/trusting/praying that this will continue. I love the work I do, I feel like I have a gift for it and feel blessed that I am able to do the work, even if only part time. And from a purely material perspective, it will help hasten our debt elimination program if I continue to stay full.

More transitions, I almost feel in no-mans land amongst all the changes going on. Jack will be a freshman in high school this fall (yikes!) and Pat will be in seventh grade. They are growing like weeds. Jack regularly eats an obscene amount of food (as in five whopper juniors in one sitting or two dozen doughnuts in one weekend) and is as thin as a rail. Pat is debating about cutting his hair. I don't think he should because I have very clear memories of him getting so upset when it was time for a hair cut. His memory of that is a bit fuzzier and all he can think of now is hating his curls. I think they're awesome. How often do you see a half-Japanese with curly hair? Gemma keeps sneaking off and sneaking in binky time and jumping half out of her skin when you catch her doing something she knows she shouldn't be, lol. And Gemma is starting to talk more. It's still quite difficult to decipher what she is trying to say, though. Oona is so different from Gemma. She's becoming a real toddler and is into EVERYTHING. Gemma was content to look at the pen in it's entirety. Oona needs to pull the cap off and see what it does and what it tastes like, etc. Oona is also experimenting with saying words which Gemma did not do at this age. Basically, Oona is an experimenter and Gemma is an observer. I was lucky Gemma wasn't this way since I was on bed-rest at the same age Oona is now. I saw myself in the mirror and looked pregnant to myself. If it was likely that I could have an easy pregnancy, I wouldn't be so freaked out by the thought. My cycle is still weird since I'm nursing Oona. I'm also hoping that that transition smooths out soon.

Another current favorite time is coming home from work and being smothered and covered in little girl/baby kisses. :) wish I had a picture of that. And little things you observer, like Oona walking around saying something that sounds like poop and blowing raspberries on my arm or cheek. And Gemma asking questions and then saying "wow..." And the girls playing together - and fighting with each other. And how instantaneously they stop crying the second I pick them up. They must really love their Mama.

and so the wheel turns...

Jack's picture

2009-06-15T20:14:00.000-07:00

Sharing an art project of Jack's. I thought it was pretty cool. It's supposed to represent Lucy in the Sky with Diamonds.

Transitions and other stresses

2009-06-15T19:56:00.000-07:00

It has been quite a few days. I was just trying to get Oona to go to sleep and in complete frustration and exhaustion, I gave up and put her in her bed by herself. She isn't crying. Will this work???

Yesterday, we took Eric to the ER because he got hit in the eye with a strand of ivy while weeding. Who knew you should wear goggles while weeding? The eye is just bruised but bruised eyes (bleeding in the white of the eye) look way worse than they actually are. Poor guy. Also, took the babies with us to the ER because the boys are not ready to babysit for an indefinite period of time. You never know how long it will take at the ER - three and a half hours in our case. Having the babies there and trying to keep them entertained certainly added to the stress of the visit. And did I mention this trip happened during lunch and nap-time? Schedules got a bit re-arranged.

Gemma had her first big girl haircut on Friday. What a milestone! Also, at her daycare, they don't want her to have her binky. Why should whether she has a binky or not be determined by her daycare? It shouldn't. But at the same time, she is getting old enough that it is a bit of a social taboo to still have a binky. None of the other kids at daycare wear their binkies and they can't bring security blankets/animals/etc, either. So since this was adding stress to an already stressful situation, Gemma being at daycare in the first place, I decided to take Gemma's binky away except for bed-time and nap-time. Since her binky is her security and she feels naked without it, I came up with the idea of making her a crocheted necklace to wear instead. The transition is overall going well though she is having more melt downs and is peeing in her diaper more instead of in the potty. But that seems normal to have a bit of backwards progress when a stressful transition is being made. Another contributing factor in deciding to take Gemma's binky away is that she is a bit slower than some in speech and being able to say what she is thinking. Hopefully she'll talk more and be easier to understand with the binky gone.

Here's a picture of the necklace.

And just in case you were wondering, Oona didn't fall asleep by herself and started crying and now I'm holding her and she's still not going to sleep and I'm getting ready to pull hair out, my own hair that is.

I survived the first day of daycare

2009-06-05T08:36:00.000-07:00

And I think the girls survived, too. Gemma was a little shell-shocked. Both were incredibly clingy at the end of the day, Oona especially. I kept wanting Gemma to give me a big hug and tell me about her day but she's not verbal enough yet and I think she was still just a tad mad at me for leaving her to fend for herself amongst the wolves. Bath time was melt down time so I climbed in the bath with them and they both sat in my lap and cuddled in the bath. That was nice.

I worried all day and felt like I couldn't get enough information out of my husband who picked them up or out of Gemma who wasn't talking. I did go to nurse Oona at nap-time and heard one cute story. Both Gemma's class and Oona's class were playing outside at the same time and Gemma came over and patted Oona on the head and then ran off and started playing again. So that comforts me a little bit - evidence of sisters hanging in together and of both girls playing and enjoying themselves. I think they had some melt-downs, too. In Oona's class, all the babies were so excited about a new baby, they swarmed her and Oona got a little overwhelmed. In Gemma's class, they didn't swarm her and kind of ignored her. They all knew the routine and followed it and Gemma didn't so felt a bit lost. I guess she didn't eat any lunch, poor girl. Eric said Gemma seemed a bit shell-shocked/stressed out in the afternoon after he picked the girls up. But Gemma tends to be a cautious, shy little girl. She's not one to jump into the fray. But she'll be fine once she knows the routine, or at least that's what I'm telling myself.

To my girls: I'm so sorry to send you to a scary new place and then leave you there. I'm trusting that the resilience of childhood will keep you in good stead. Thank you for going through it, as it gives me the opportunity to do work that I truly love to do though it cannot compare to how much I love you. I hope you make friends and learn a lot. And I'm really glad I get to be with you the other five days of the week.

philosphical "deep" thoughts

2009-06-03T09:02:00.000-07:00

Been thinking about questions of whether there is a right and wrong, truth and falsehood, black and white. If you go too far in one direction, everything is true and good, everything is right even in its' wrongness and nothing is black and white, all is in the gray zone. But if you go too far the other way, your definition of what is true becomes so narrow and rigid and ignores the different faces of truth. There's a story of a group of blind men defining what an elephant is. One says it's like a fan, another like a tree trunk, another like a rope, another like a hose and another like a wall. They're all correct in their perception but they're not entirely correct because they're not "seeing" the whole elephant. Since we are all blind in one sense, we can believe that what we perceive is true, but we must also acknowledge that we might be missing the other side or end of the elephant.

I'm reading Madeleine L'Engle's book "Walking on Water: Reflections on Faith and Art." She talks about how she believes that atheist artists who produce true art can be closer to God than some artists that profess to being Christian which makes me think (in my own round about stream of consciousness) of the saying "all roads lead to Rome." I talked to my husband about this (who is WAY more knowledgeable about this topic than I am and is a clearer thinker and has thought about it WAY more than I have) and he says, yes all roads lead to Rome which means you can't judge somebody for being on a different path than you - the gray zones of everybody is right - but that they all do lead to the same place which indicates that there is an absolute truth of some sort - the black and the white - that we're all striving towards. So how do you wrap your head around there being one absolute truth but an infinite number of ways of arriving there. There is some paradox there. Which brings me back to the elephant and the blind men. I fully acknowledge being blind and often I go in circles, seemingly endlessly in my quest to reconcile this rope I feel on one end and this hose I feel on the other.

Money - the funnest topic to discuss...

2009-06-02T08:05:00.001-07:00

Today is day two in the spending no money plan so that we can get rid of debt Dave Ramsey style. We're doing the Total Money Makeover. We couldn't do much about our basic bills but our variables like groceries, gifts, clothing, extras are very variable. I was pretty shocked when I pulled up how much we spent on gifts last year. We're pretty generous with ourselves and others relative to our income.

The idea for this plan mostly came from my husband. I was mostly content to float along month to month, make ends meet, and consistently pay off the debt at a monthly rate. Most of our debt is what most people consider "good debt." We have a home equity loan, student loans, mortgage and a very small smattering of credit card debts (which were going to be paid off by the end of the summer anyway.) My husband, on the other hand, hates being in debt and spent most of his adult life debt free with money in the bank. My first reaction to the plan was mega-stress thinking "I can never buy fill in the blank (yarn, clothes, books, extras, vacations) ever again." I made some last minute yarn purchases so feel better in that regard. I have a lot of yarn. Once I get it all in the mail, I'll take pictures and post them so that I can be reminded of how much yarn I really do have. Anyway, now I'm used to the idea and am looking forward to being on the other side of it. It will be hard but after seeing where we were blowing money and where we can cut corners, it is feeling more and more possible to be debt free. Our monthly bills for student loans combined adds up to $650 a month and it would take another fifteen to twenty years to pay them off. I think we'll have a party once those are paid off.

One thing I like about the plan is that you pay off the smallest balances first instead of focusing on the highest interest loan. You do this because it gives you the feeling of success sooner which makes it easier to keep with the program and not slide back into old spending habits. Our highest interest loan is our biggest and is my student loan from the Conservatory. Thinking of working on paying that loan off is emotionally paralyzing and is probably why trying to pay that one down first has never worked. That loan represents a mass of emotional confusion. I try to persuade myself that it wasn't a complete waste of money. That having a Masters Degree from the San Francisco Conservatory of Music in French Horn Performance has enriched my life somehow in spite of the fact that I rarely pick up my French horn and have no real plan to be really active as a musician, though it might be fun to play some down the road. Then I feel really guilty about bringing that kind of debt into my marriage. So every time Eric and I have talked about paying off debt in the past, the focus has been on that student loan and I've become a puddle of guilt and the weight of failure and waste and wrong choices regarding getting that degree which I really don't use all paralyzes me emotionally and makes the thought of paying off that debt hugely overwhelming so I go shopping to cheer myself up (convincing myself that I'm only buying stuff I need or that doesn't cost very much) and lo and behold we don't have any extra money to pay extra on the loan. Funny how that happens. So now we'll get our momentum going on less emotionally stressful loans and I'll feel like it's possible and we will make that loan go away and will save a ton of money on interest. Just think what we could do with an extra $650 a month!

I think this is another "welcome to being a grownup" thing, learning and practicing self-denial now so that we can have more money to spend in the future. Our culture is not very good at delayed gratification. We deserve it, why wait, we'll have enough money to pay it off. The long term of this money plan we're doing is that we'll only buy cars with cash (which boggles my mind) or pay cash for home improvements. Every purchase will be made with money that we have. Isn't this what we try to teach our kids by having them save up their allowances? They can't buy their coveted toy until they've saved enough money. Well, now to hold myself to that same rule. It's going to be hard but gratifying.

because my sister is awesome....

2009-05-29T13:16:00.000-07:00

My sister Anne makes, in my opinion, way cool tea pots, vases, etc. They're whimsical and fun and beautiful. She just put up a web-site so here's a plug.

http://www.potterybyanne.com

And my cousin, Becky, designed the web-site.

All my other sisters, Colleen, Molly, and Helen are also awesome. :)

socks!

2009-05-29T06:51:00.000-07:00

Since, I've been especially whiney on my blog of late, here's a non-whine post. I finished Eric's socks and they turned out quite nice. I love wearing hand-knit socks and so does Eric, but they're not my favorite thing to knit in the world. But I was determined to finish these. And I'll have to continue to be determined if I want to wear hand-knit socks in the future. :)

These are the Caesar Check Socks from Charlene Schurch's Sensational Knitted Socks book. I used Knitpicks Essential Navy and Blue/Brown twist. The color contrast isn't super striking but I think it's nice for a man's sock. And Eric brought them on his trip with him to wear so that is a good sign that they will be enjoyed.

poop on the floor continued

2009-05-26T19:38:00.000-07:00

Guess what... Gemma can take the special nap time diapers off by herself... She wasn't supposed to be able to do this. This means the poop on the floor problem is still a problem. And I know Gemma is stressed about it because little-miss-regular-poops-at-least-once-a-day is going every other day. Sigh.... So far potty training is not very high up there on my favorite parenting tasks.

more poop on the floor

2009-05-25T17:29:00.000-07:00

And this time she stepped in it. Oy! I don't know why I neglected to put her "nap-time diaper" on. The nap-time diapers are cloth diapers with snaps that Gemma can't undo on loan from Sarah, a friend. I had some crazy thought that she would call me when she needed to poop or call me when she pooped in her diaper. Silly me! She pooped in her diaper, took her diaper off, poop rolled on floor and then she stepped in it, though I don't know the exact timing of these events. So she finally started crying because she had poop on her foot. I guess I can be thankful that she didn't walk around her room with poop on her foot. I guess?

I think everybody in this family woke up on the wrong side of bed this morning. I haven't been able to complete one single task today without somebody crying, fighting, needing something RIGHT NOW, whining, fussing, arguing, making inappropriate jokes. I haven't helped matters because my patience has been zilch, my temper short, and frustration level high.

Thanks for listening. Sorry to vent. Oh, and there is Oona crying yet again. Poor girl, she is teething. Wish I could have a chocolate martini and watch a dumb movie. Alas, Eric has class. I'm doing bath time by myself and then I'll collapse into bed and pray the boys survive until their Dad gets home to supervise.

Tomorrow is another day and thank goodness for that!

Over and out.

I excel at pity parties...

2009-05-24T08:29:00.000-07:00

Yesterday I was thrown into a full blown pity party for one, the kind where I miss "me," the pre-baby/kid me that had time to relax, was skinny (though I didn't think so) and had a clean and controlled apartment (I was the only one making a mess.) This was all triggered by the enormity of work needed to be done around the house and frustrations with that (like a toilet with broken innards) and by my waist and hip measurements being more than my self-image allowed for. With our house, I usually keep blinders on and I just ignore a lot of what needs to be done. With Eric home more during the summer, I try to get more done because the babies can hang out with him while I do things like scrub the sink or tub or organize something (or write a blog entry.) Our house was a rental before we moved in and has been neglected for a very long time. We chip away at it but... So that makes me wish for the controlled environment of my little apartment with only me making a mess. I could clean and it would stay clean. And if it got messy again, there was nobody else but me to blame. On to reason number two for self-pity party, I had a sewing lesson with my friend Meghan yesterday and measured my waist and hips to see what size I needed to make. I'm making myself a very lovely skirt and hope it turns out as lovely as I picture it in my head. I used to be anorexic and less than a hundred pounds back in college days. I know in my head that I'm not fat in the least but I get caught in the "I know I'm not fat but I'm fatter than I want to be" trap and can very easily fall into not wanting to eat so that I can be skinnier - something I watch and guard against. So seeing my waist and hip measurements being more than several inches bigger than they used to be and seeing the number 20 for my size (even though I know that sewing pattern sizes are way different than store bought clothing sizes) just made me fall into the old trap of negative body image and eating disorder crapola. So I sit and writhe and squirm in self-pity and self-criticism.

And then I remember that I wouldn't have this house or this figure if I didn't have the girls and that doesn't even compare to living in an apartment by myself having self-pity parties because nobody loved me (except my family and they didn't count.) I must be unusually gifted at self-pity parties.

So now to get over it and love my house and my body in spite of their faults. What good do pity parties do anyway? Well, I guess they can be a reminder to be grateful but it would be better to remember to do that before starting the whine-fest.

Ten things I'm grateful for (not in order of importance):
1) A little girl named Gemma and
2) a little girl named Oona, neither of whom I can now imagine life without.
3) A home that I will eventually make exactly how I want it.
4) a husband who stretches me to be a better person than I ever would have been otherwise.
5) A teenage boy named Jack and
6) a tweenage boy named Pat who teach me about boyhood and about being popular and being nice, which I had always thought were mutually exclusive.
7) Knitting and crochet and now maybe even sewing - great hobbies where you can make beautiful things and that fulfill so many purposes like relaxation, meditation, creativity, excitement.
8) Friends - I feel very very lucky and blessed in my friends right now, especially my Mom friends.
9) A reasonably healthy body which if I treat right will be even more healthy.
10) A career path that is flexible enough that I can be there for the babies and have time away to follow my own goals.

See, I really am quite lucky and blessed.

Poop on the floor

2009-05-18T18:09:00.000-07:00

As any parent of toddlers and babies knows, poop is a common topic of conversation. "So, honey, did junior poop today?" "You would not believe the amount of poop that just came out of that baby!" You know what I mean. Non-parents would wonder why in the world would somebody blog about poop?

Enter Gemma's room after quiet time. Blankets, books, clothes piled all over the floor, pulled this way and that by a restless two year old who doesn't want to nap. Potty chair sitting on the floor, lid open, empty, purposefully left there by Gemma's Mama, namely me. Gemma laying on the floor with the chair cushion, removed from the chair, as a pillow and a blanket covering her. Gemma is wearing a shirt and two dresses, one on top of the other. Next to Gemma on the rug? Poop, a complete turd and a partial turd, thankfully not stepped on or otherwise disturbed or at least seemingly so. What else is on the floor? A removed diaper which has evidence of pee in it. On the chair cushion and soaking through her dresses? Pee. Smeared on the inside of her dress? Poop.

How in the world do you potty train a two year old who takes off her own diaper, refuses to sit on the potty, refuses to put her pee or poop in the potty and when asked where her poop and pee goes calmly replies "in my underwears?" How do I stay sane while trying to explain in no uncertain terms that pee and poop do not go in underwear (or on the floor for that matter) and that they need to go in her potty? All of this just reminds me of the fact that you cannot control the uncontrollable, least of all a willful two year old, and that fact is very extremely frustrating!

She won't be pooping on the floor when she's eighteen. Right?

in shock - in a good way

2009-05-17T10:50:00.001-07:00

I was so prepared for night weaning to be extremely challenging. This was Oona, you know - the baby who woke up at 9, 11, 1, 3, 4, 6, 7 like clockwork for months and would squirm and cry and hit me in the face if I didn't comply and let her nurse. Our night last night - and just to remind you that this was only the third night of our night weaning program: Oona went to sleep around 7:30 after bath and nursing. She fell asleep with me holding her. I put her in her crib (side-car to our bed). I woke up at 12:30 completely shocked that she hadn't gotten me up yet. I went back to sleep. Oona woke up and nursed at 3 am. I put her down and she went back to sleep by herself. Then she nursed again at 6 and again went back to sleep - by herself (even more shock!). Gemma woke up at 8:20, also waking me up and Gemma and I woke up Oona a couple minutes later. I haven't had this much sleep for I can't even remember how long.

Now, I hope that I didn't just jinx myself, knock on wood! How sweet it would be if.... Must not get my hopes up too high, it was just one night.... But oh, am I so thankful.