hello, fancy pants!

2009-11-26T06:23:00.002-05:00

Happy Thanksgiving!

Hi y'all! I'm still pregnant. Here's my 39 week picture. GASP. This is the LONGEST I have ever been pregnant.

I'm baking a caramel apple pie. Barefoot, Pregnant, and in my kitchen.

And this- this is how I really feel about my situation.

2009-11-25T05:40:00.005-05:00

Wednesday Fifteen: Holiday Time -updated

1- Tomorrow is Thanksgiving, and my 35th Birthday.
2- I'm thankful my husband is sleeping, because right now, all I want for my birthday is for him to shut the fuck up.
3- HUGE fight yesterday, started because he called me on his way home from work to say that, even though I had asked him to take the day off (go to my dr appt with me, help with both kids because Abby is off school) he told everyone at work he would be in for the afternoon if I was not having the baby. There is a lot more, but to summarize, I called BULLSHIT because he could take quite a few vacation days this summer for his BIKE but could not take ONE DAY for his wife???
4- Spent yesterday in pajamas with Soph until 3:40 pm. Lots of snuggling. Finally figured out that she is getting some molars up top and that is why she is waking up a lot. Poor kid.
5- She's back on the prune juice, too. Ouch.
6- My neighbor is watching my kids during the doctor's appointment today. Bribed her with Scotcheroos.
7- Abby is really enjoying the hidden object game she got me for my birthday. Each night as we play it she thanks herself for me. Unfortunately I think she has inherited her father's love of buying gifts for other people that are either really for you or something you'll use....
8- Like the Computrainer. He loves telling our triathlon friends it's my push present.
9- And you know we don't DO push presents. Mike's favorite line about push presents is that his SPERM is gift enough.
10- I'm still pregnant.
11- This is terribly inconvenient for people that were planning on visiting the baby over the Thanksgiving holiday.
12- My doctor's appointment is at 11:50 today. I've been contracting on and off since Sunday, my abdomen is very sore, and I'm really hoping they do SOMETHING to help me out, not just say see you next week.
13- We had some kind of crazy kamikaze vampire fly in our house last night. First it bit Mike, then it got me 4 times. He was too busy watching "V" and farting around online to kill it. I finally went to bed to hide and sleep and told him not to come to bed until the fly was dead. He came to bed, fly is still hiding in the house...
14- The baby has lots of hiccups. I told her there is a solution to that- BIRTH.
15- Still no closer on a name. Lots of adjectives, like "fatherless," "late," "incovenient," "stubborn," and "resistant." But no name.

So, obviously, tomorrow is Thanksgivng, and I'm taking the day off. SHOULD I HAVE A BABY, regular readers, I know I have a few of you who are on my call list, so please, stick a note in the comments of this post, and I promise, as soon as we get home and are able, I'll post. BUT do not assume because you do not see a post tomorrow that the baby is here. I should be back to posting on Friday- but certainly would prefer not to be.

POST APPOINTMENT UPDATE: I can not be pregnant forever, as they will induce next Wednesday, and my next appointment is Tuesday. However, due to the exact timing of when week 39 starts (um, TOMORROW) they could not strip my membranes today, and will not do it on Friday, as they have a no-induction policy for weekends and holidays. Because, as Mike likes to point out, we'd hate to INCONVENIENCE our doctors. Yeah, he's pretty ticked and it is so freaking funny. Plus my receptionist told me to drown him in the pond on the way out from our appointment....

2009-11-24T06:10:00.003-05:00

Edna and other mysteries

Yesterday Abby got home from school and did homework (but did not do her math homework, which she has a test over today, because she "forgot" to tear it out and bring it home, and I know that "forgot" is second-grade code for "too busy talking/staring at someone's shoelace/dicking around when I should have been packing up my homework"). After her spelling work was done, I stuck her on the computer to do some math practice (on a site that was on a newsletter that was in her homework folder today- something she could have done this weekend, but we "forgot" our homework folder on Friday) and then I sat down with a huge old decrepit photo album.

Soon Abby wanted to see what I had, what I was doing, what I was looking through, and she joined me for a trip through unknown family history.

Growing up divorced meant a lot of history was re-written, a lot was left out, and even more was shovelled on in an attempt for sides to lay claim. It often means that I feel like I'm in no-man's land when people start talking family history. For instance, I know a shitload about my step-mom's family history, but next to nothing about my father's. I know a modicum amount about my mother's family, most of that gleaned from years of listening to gossip in my grandma's living room after holiday meals while the men played cards down in the family room and smoked cigars.

I only saw my dad's mom a few times each year, and his dad- well, I supposedly met him as an infant, but did not meet him again until I was 21- at that time, picture a half-drunk angst ridden college kid with dyed black hair being told that her Grandfather wants to meet her (finally), wants to reconcile with the family, and then when faced with the grandfather he simply asks "Is this The Boy?" and then shows interest in my brother. The only good thing that came out of that meeting was corroboration of some of my father's best stories about our colored family history. This all happened after my grandmother passed- she was a fiery woman, with a huge temper, and I can just imagine the shit fit she would have thrown had she been alive and found out we were in contact with my grandfather. Plus- get this- he had made a new family for himself, and it was only after his wife had passed on and he was all alone that he finally responded to the years and years of holiday cards and cardigans that my step-mom sent and wanted to see us.

I know nothing about my father's father's side, and I'm pretty alright with that. But my grandmother? I would love to know more. I've been through the photobook many times, trying to figure out who people are, but most of the pictures are unlabeled. Yesterday's goal was to try and figure out my Grandmother's middle name. I'm toying with the idea of using my grandmother's first name, Marian, as the new baby's middle name. But I also wondered what her middle name was- just in case it was something amazing and perfect and able to be spelled by my husband. I found her graduation certificate from a school of Interior Design that listed her middle initial as "E", and I also found an obituary for her mother that listed her mother's name as Edna. Not very promising. Yes, Mike could spell it, but I'm not a huge fan of the name Edna. The search also reminded me that she had a sister, Crazy Gretchen, so if there were any G names (Gwen, etc) on our list, they are gone. Ever seen that show on cable where they go into packrats houses and try to clean all that shit out? That was Crazy Gretchen's house down in Virginia, and that one visit was enough to make me the anti-packrat I am today.

Once we sort of solved the "E" mystery, I started showing Abby pictures of my dad when he was little- and here is where I wish my scanner worked, because holy cow was he a cute kid, and my grandma has some pics where she looks dead on a Vargo girl. Abby commented lots on my hair and my grandma's hair (similar coloring but both of us, um, ENHANCE), and in some of my grandma's swimsuit shots (she lived near Lake Erie) I could certainly recognize this body (the tall, small boobs thing is totally opposite of my mother's family and the fold-em-up boobies, and I can't tell you how much DISCUSSION there was in my teens about how I certainly did not get my chest from them). What Abby noticed, and I didn't, was how much the pictures of my very young dad looked like my oldest nephew, Dylan. Again, wish I had a working scanner.

So- Edna. Not going on the babyname list. But we will keep Marian, and maybe add Marianne. Why? Because I have a series of notes and postcards and greeting cards, all of them from a mystery man who simply signed them "C." And in his most loving notes, C calls my grandma "Marianne"- which is so amazingly soft and romantic and so opposite the hard-as-nails Marian I knew. I also am hoping I remember to pull out that album when my brother and his wife visit next, just so they can see the resemblance between my father and Dylan. And, if my Dad ever gets up here, maybe he can take time to go through it with me and tell me who some of the people are (hint hint).

2009-11-23T15:28:00.003-05:00

So, if you aren't having the baby, what exactly are you doing?

Yeah, I'm still pregnant. And- guess what- I'm going to let you in on a little secret- I could still be pregnant NEXT WEEK. Oh the horror.

See, I'm not sure how honest I've been with you readers about the conception of this kid, but it went something like this- around week 4 of my notoriously irregular cycle, my husband and I were getting amorous and LAZY and I said, "Honey, seriously, my period is due any day now, we don't need a condom." Woosh Boom POW- I'm sperminated. And when you are all ACCIDENTALLY pregnant, and not sure exactly which CONDOMLESS time you had sex and conceived, there is a lot of arguing with doctors and nurses and those stupid fucking wheel charts they use to determine exactly when they think your baby will arrive. I happen to be nearing my first due date, which is November 26th. But I also have another due date, November 28th, that I trust a bit more, because there are a whole bunch of titles in front of the names of the people I paid a shitload of money to down in Dayton and they decided on that date by ultrasound. And then, there are my poor doctors and midwives here, who really need me to bake them an I'm Sorry pie, who have chosen Dec. 3rd as their guess date. Which means, I had to call today and schedule an appointment with them for next week, a time when I was quite certain I would not be pregnant, so why did I need an appointment????? I cried as I scheduled it because seriously, I feeling like I might be pregnant forever. I know that is not really possible, but I FEEL like that.

I am no longer making any phone calls, because if I do call someone, even my husband in the middle of the day to ask him why he took the whole fucking bag of tortilla chips with him for lunch, people immediately assume I'm calling them to say I'm in labor/having the baby/had the baby. SIGH. But that doesn't stop my friends and family from emailing me, or texting me, or worse- sending me notes on Facebook.

Today I got a little note from someone- we will not identify them any further than A FACEBOOK FRIEND- and they asked if I had the baby, or was I contracting, or having the baby right now.....when I replied that we had no baby, but I have contractions every day, their response was, "So, if you are not having the baby, what exactly are you doing?"

Facebook needs a button, like that stupid "Like" button, that says something really easy like "FUCK YOU." Facebook needs a "FUCK YOU" button. You'll thank me when they add that.

I didn't respond- I'm just going to pretend like I didn't see that note and it didn't make me want to hit the "FUCK YOU" button. I've been thinking about it, and first I thought of all the things I am NOT doing:
-I'm not having a baby
-I'm not putting up my Christmas Tree
-I'm not watching porn
-I'm not watching Soap Operas
-I'm not eating chocolate peanut butter ice cream
-I'm not cleaning my house, because I already did that for the last four weeks
-I'm not having relations with my husband

But what EXACTLY am I doing?
-I'm reading books
-I'm watching a lot of Max and Ruby
-I'm trying to get the toddler to poop on a daily basis
-I'm writing thank-you notes as soon as baby gifts arrive
-I'm eating my neighbor's good cooking
-I'm sleeping between horrid bouts of leg cramps each night in my calves and hamstrings
-I'm playing a really cool hidden object game on the Wii with Abby each night after dinner
-I'm trying to tolerate my husband
-I'm sitting in the glider in the nursery as we get the kids ready for bed and saying to the baby, "GET OUT"
-I'm giving pep talks to my vagina because I'm pretty sure, as this kid gets bigger and bigger and the pregnancy lasts longer and longer, we are heading for collateral damage of epic proportions
-I'm ignoring contractions/trying to relax through contractions/listening to Hypnobabies through contractions

Oh, and I'm petitioning Facebook to add a "FUCK YOU" button.

2009-11-23T06:46:00.003-05:00

Miketastic Monday: Oh Oh It's MAGIC, with a side of Tater

Two tasty MikeReedisms for your enjoyment this week....

First up, one of my favorites ever:

Sophie is an early riser (whatever time you are thinking, it is way earlier). Often this means we are blearily sipping coffee and watching Disney Channel in our bed, and when we are really bored, I read Facebook Status Updates to Mike. Most of the time he asks me to read ones from my family, so I was updating him on a series of status updates my youngest cousin (a junior in high school) wrote last week about some drama in his life.

Mike: "Sounds like Band Drama."

Me: "No, he's in Madrigals."

Mike: "That's worse than band, admitting you're in Magical Choir."

As you can tell, Mike was not in Marching Band OR any choirs in high school.

And then, this morning, we were watching Disney in our bedroom with Sophie and she pointed to the screen and shouted, "Wook! CARS!"

Mike pointed to the television. "Do you know who that is, Sophie?" She gave him a blank look. Mike very definitively said, "TATER."

"No." I said.

"YES," he said, "THAT is TATER."

I sighed, preparing myself for a very lengthy explanation of who the hell the truck was and how TATER had become synonymous with the truck in Mike's Mind. (follow me here)

"THAT is Mater, as in TOW MATER, the tow truck. He is voiced by Larry The Cable Guy, who is on the Blue Collar Comedy Tour with RON WHITE, the comedian who does the bit where he talks about getting arrested and when the cops asked for his name, and any aliases, he said TATER SALAD."

Mike's Response? "OHHHHHHHHHHHH....."

2009-11-22T06:48:00.002-05:00

We're TRICKY

So we got this idea to trick Snuggle Buggle into arriving. Thursday happens to be Thanksgiving, and my 35th birthday, and if I get my membranes stripped Wednesday- well, you see where this is going. Abby, the impatient big sister, was devastated by the idea that she may not get to be with me on my birthday, so yesterday we decided to celebrate.

Mike and Abby went shopping (do not get me started on Mike) while Soph and I wandered around the mall. Then we came home and I made a big dinner (corned beef and cabbage and potatoes and carrots) and a birthday cake (homemade marble cake with chocolate glaze). We opened gifts (actually, the kids opened my gifts for me), and Abby and I then played a new Wii game that she picked out for me (US). She adores puzzle and hidden object games, and the one she picked out is pretty cool- and I'm 99% sure we'll have it solved before the baby comes, and if not, it's something I can play with one hand while nursing or holding a baby. I also got two books I really wanted- The White Queen by Phillippa Gregory, and Official Book Club Selection by Kathy Griffin (which immediately went into my hospital bag, it will go great with Percaset). They also got me 4 dark chocolate truffles from the Godiva Store, which Abby immediately started begging for, so I bit into one and handed it to her to taste- it was key lime, which is fantastic. Abs took one bite, handed it to me and said, "That's okay, Mom, you go ahead and eat those." She was not a huge fan.

Sophie was very into screaming "HAPPY BIRTHDAY" and Snuggle Buggle? Not fooled. She's staying put. I guess the next thing I could try is putting up the Christmas Tree....

2009-11-21T06:47:00.002-05:00

At least she's honest

When Abby was little, I remember how HORRIBLE the age of 2 and a half through 4 was. I think at one point I quit reading about her development and stages and threw my hands in the air, completely giving up on the experts and their explanations of this difficult stage. We often used time outs to handle her temper tantrums, and if things got really bad, I simply walked away from her. Which was pretty effective unless we were somewhere public- I think they call that abandoning your child, which is often tempting but technically illegal.

Back to time outs. Time outs for Abby usually involved a lot of tears, some screaming, some pent up rage, and then the time out would be over. And she would pout- for YEARS. Occasionally we still hear "Do you remember that time when I got a time out for a million minutes because I...." Oh yes. We remember. Abby won't let us forget.

Sophie is at the Time Out stage. We were prepared for tears and screaming and rage- and instead, this kid calmly sits in time out until her time is up, and then moves on. I have no fear that in twenty years she'll call me and say, "Do you remember that time I got a time out when I was 2 for throwing my dinner on the floor? Yeah, I'm still mad about that."

Yesterday I walked into the family room, turned on Max and Ruby, and said, "Soph, Mommy needs 2 MINUTES to wash her face and get dressed, then we are going to the store." I made sure she had juice, and was engrossed in the show, and then ran for my room. As I stood up from splashing water on my face over my sink, I noticed Sophie was at my side. "Washa Hands," she said, holding out her hands to me- which were covered by a thin white substance.

Shit.

I washed her hands and said, "Show Mommy what you did." She grabbed my hand and led me to the family room, and I found a bottle of Elmer's School Glue open and dumped all over the footstool. "Sophie, where did you find that?" I asked. She grabbed my hand and led me to the kitchen, where the craft crap drawer was open and completely empty. My floor was littered with papers, baggies of crayons and markers, old sticker sheets, and a pair of Abby's scissors. Ah-HA! The 7 year old, when told to put her art supplies away, had decided it was too much trouble to march her ass down to her art desk, so she tossed it in the craft crap drawer in the kitchen, assuming I would not ever notice or know. I grabbed a handful of babywipes and headed for the footstool. Sophie followed me and I looked at her and said, "YOU are in so much trouble."

She smiled sweetly, climbed on the couch, and said, "Time Out."

2009-11-20T07:39:00.003-05:00

Friday Fifteen: STILL Pregnant Edition

1- I now answer every phone call, no matter who it is, with "Hi, I haven't had the baby yet."
2- Baby #2 of the Girls Weekend 3 Amigos Babies should arrive today. T passed her due date and is getting induced this morning!
3- Me? I AM STILL PREGNANT. By this time in our pregnancy with Soph we were holding her; Abs was born on day 1 of week 39. SIGH.
4- Snuggle Buggle is going nowhere fast. Which is fine- it meant I got to go out last night and see my friend Joanne host and do a 20 minute set at the Funny Bone's Divas of Comedy show. HILARIOUS.
5- I have run out of stuff to do and I promise, I am resting. I actually slept most of the night last night and did very little tossing and turning and counting the ways I could suffocate my snoring husband in his sleep. I was that exhausted. Finally.
6- We do not have big weekend plans. I'd make some but seriously, I'm enjoying just resting. My body is worn out.
7- I had fried green tomatoes and collard greens last night at the comedy club. HEAVEN.
8- Abs is continuing her "Be Nice To Everyone" LifeMantra by dressing NEUTRALLY for OSU/Michigan day at school. The Border Battle is huge (and disgusting) up here. They have been selling OSU and Michigan gear this week at school, so Abby bought one OSU game face tatoo, and one Michigan game face tatoo, and will wear one on each cheek along with a white t-shirt and jeans. She doesn't want to pick a side because she does not want anyone to be mad at her.
9- The kids are out of control with this, every year, and it is the parents fault. "Go Bucks Michigan Sucks" will be chanted on the bus, and whatever the reverse is, and I so could give a shit about it all.
10- I made the comment on Facebook that I would like to be in labor during the stupid game so I would not have to watch it, and my aunt said that of course Mike would be watching it. Actually, he feels the same way I do. I guess part of it is us living all over Ohio, and how much we make fun of my family with their OSU Bellepoint sweaters, OSU purses and shoes, and Brutus the Buckeye shit all over the back of their cars....
11- Plus neither of us went to OSU, except to drink. So, we can't claim our eternal fandom because we are alumni. Alumni are always excused. Other people who are huge Buckeye fans and can not give a reason why....totally different story, and I'm fine with you being a fan, until you start trashing Michigan and Ann Arbor and expressing your hatred of all things Maize and Blue. There are truly other things in the world that deserve your ridiculous angst more.
12- Mike (and I) are the proud new owners of a CompuTrainer. It's a triathlon training device that hooks up to your bike, and computer, and simulates elevation and such for different courses to help you train indoors. Important when you live in Toledo and can only ride your bike outside about 5 months out of the year. I told him to finally buy it (we have discussed it for years) and do it before the baby comes and I am fully coherent and totally pissy.
13- Mike threw a new condition out there for the baby's name- it has to be something he can spell. I'm so screwed. I might as well name her IT.
14- When I saw Joanne last night she asked if I would do Facebook Status Updates from the hospital.....I said sure. Might as well try and see if we have WiFi. Can't hurt, right?
15- My latest pregnancy nightmare was last night- had a dream that I was bleeding and called my doctors and they refused to do anything until next week. Ridiculous, I know. But while most women are always confident that their babies are safe and snug in their bodies, I have the great scientific knowledge that my body tries to destroy the baby for the first 12 weeks- and nothing can convince me that the baby is ever TRULY safe in my messed up body. I just want her out and healthy and yelling and screaming and using me as a pacifier and keeping me up all night. Patience, patience.

2009-11-19T04:58:00.005-05:00

FarFromPoopin

If I said my children have issues- well, that would be an understatement. I realize most of what I write about right now is whining about wanting to give birth and not be hugely pregnant anymore, and I want everyone to know what Abs is still demonstrating her Brick-ness everyday (yesterday I found her standing by the front door, waiting for the bus fully dressed in her coat, hat, gloves, backpack AND NO SHOES). Sophie? Besides insisting on wearing a tutu and butterfly wings and high heels over her clothes every single day, and watching Max and Ruby nonstop, she is refusing to poop.

Mike and I decided this was now a problem since neither of us could figure out when exactly she had last taken a decent crap. SIGH. On the one hand, it's great that she's learning control. On the other hand- girlfriend, you gotta poop. So yesterday, as I was wandering around Meijer thinking relaxing thoughts (yes I am still contracting), I picked up some chewable laxatavies for kids from Fleet.

I figured this has to work, right? I mean, I'm a grown up, and I used some gentle women's laxative ONCE and- well, that is a story best told with some Margaritas and a signed confidentiality agreement. So far Sophie and her Ass have managed to defeat the efforts of prune juice, Plum Juice For Digestive Health, Dark Chocolate covered raisins, and my homemade chili. When we got home I read the directions and gave her one tablet. Within an hour, there she was, in the corner, on her tippy toes, straining NOT to poop.

Round one went to Sophie.

After we got home from picking up Abby from a Brownie Field Trip on Interpretive Dance (yeah, so now Brick is dancing around my house with a scarf non-stop), I gave Sophie another tablet and started making dinner. And gave her some Plum Juice. And watched her down two servings of homemade Gyro meat (lamb, feta, spinach, and EVOO). The result?

Mike and I sat and laughed and marvelled over the power of this girl's ass. Mind over Poop. Round two went to Sophie.

I'm going to give it one more try this morning. How strong can one kid's ass be?

UPDATE: Today, in the epic Battle of Sophie Versus Pooping, Pooping WON. Thanks to a breakfast of 2 Fleet Children's Laxative Tablets and 4 sippy cups of plumsmart light digestive health plum juice (mixed with water). Poor kid, she didn't have a chance. Today's post should be sponsored by Huggies for the amount we've gone through today.....

2009-11-18T05:59:00.003-05:00

Baby #1

For my regular readers, the first baby of the 3 Pregnant Amigos arrived yesterday. For details, go to her blog - she blogged during labor. Do not expect such things from this girl.

2009-11-18T05:27:00.003-05:00

Things that are NOT remotely helpful

Last night my mother called me from her conference to let me know exactly what time she would be getting off the plane- you know, so I can have this baby. Just one more person who is expecting me to get Snuggle Buggle out of me on their time schedule. I quickly explained to her that everything was shut tight, despite the contractions, and that now they would not strip my membranes until next Wednesday, and I have no hopes of having this baby before then. She then went off on a tangent:

"I've been trying to think of something I could do after the baby arrives that would be helpful."

Um, okay. I figured the first thing she would offer to do is cook for us, and OH MY GOD NO.

"Is Mike taking time off when the baby comes?" she asked.

"Yep," I said, "Plus it looks like baby time might happen around Thanksgiving, and we will have tons of family around to help with the girls."

She then launched into her Ideas Of Helpful Things She Could Do When The Baby Comes, and this is what they were:

1- get me a gift certificate to get a Pedicure. "Mom, I paint my own toenails, plus I can't see me getting away from an infant and 2 kids to get a pedicure. Thanks, though." She said, "You STILL paint your own toenails?" Yes. I know. Crazypants, that's me, I save money and paint my own toenails.

2- pay for a cleaning lady to come to my house one time. "Mom, I like cleaning my house. We normally do it every weekend, and Mike and I do it together, and I just did a deep clean this past weekend, so we're good there." She said, "I know you like cleaning, but most people don't and your hands will be full when the baby comes. Just think about it. Oh, but I'm sure that the cleaning people wouldn't do it YOUR way and it would just bother you." YES. I would totally be bothered by how they cleaned my house. Seriously, I'm just happy when I look into a toilet bowl and it is sans residue.

"Well," she said, "Let me know if you think of something."

And I DID. I wish- Oh Sweet Baby Jesus Do I Ever Wish- that I could have said, "You know what would be helpful? You not being a Crazy Bitch for 3 months." I think that's reasonable.

2009-11-17T14:15:00.001-05:00

Ah yes, that is my husband, and he is a total DICK

3+hours spent at my doctor's office. Contractions 4-6 minutes apart and in my back. Pain. PAIN.

The worst part though? Listening to my husband BITCH about:
-how long it was taking for them to put me on the monitors/check my cervix
-how they refused to induce me despite his request
-how he really was inconvenienced by having to wait another week for this baby
-how this baby was going to mess up his vacation time
-how he planned meetings thinking this baby would come on Thursday the 19th
-how they needed to do SOMETHING so that I could get back to NORMAL
-how much extra he was expected to do if I was pregnant for another week

My doctor came in and said
-still at 1cm
-would not strip my membranes, said they would do it next week at my 39 week appointment
-explained ACOG guidelines to Mike to shut him up
-told us no sex for a week to prevent aggravating the contractions
-told me to rest for this week so that I do not go into labor all worn out and sore

Then they sent me home. I got to listen to Mike bitch the whole way home, then in front of his Mom, who finally realized he wasn't going to shut up so she left. I pointed out to him look, really, I would LOVE to have this baby right now, but there is not much I can do, so we need to look at how we have another week to ourselves and OH BY THE WAY you should shut up about the baby messing with your vacation/Thanksgiving plans because I'm the one who will be laboring or in the hospital on my 35th birthday/Thanksgiving Day.

SIGH.

Before he left to go to work for the afternoon he did apologize for acting like a DICK. Here's hoping he complains to the wrong ladies at work and they eat him alive for being so mean and selfish about this. I mean, he's not contracting, or holding a baby in for one more week, is he?

2009-11-17T05:52:00.002-05:00

On HIS schedule

I spent most of yesterday feeling like crap. I finally forced myself to shower and get dressed around noon, and managed to get Sophie to nap so I could nap for a brief, but wonderful, 15 minutes. Today my pal Kate is getting induced- actually, looking at the clock, she should be at the hospital right now.

Tomorrow is my big appointment and I have to tell you, I'm apprehensive. Even though I already made my favorite MW promise to strip my membranes at this appointment, I have this fear that they will refuse for some reason. I really want her to deliver this time- I just think it would be soooo nice to have someone we actually know, and who knows my history, down there catching the baby so we don't have to explain things like Irritable Uterus, and being prepared to catch the baby as soon as they break my water. I also know from scheduling issues that my MW is off all next week.

Mike has decided that since HE is going to my appointment with me, I will have the baby on Thursday. I, on the other hand, am working my ass off to get this baby out. I do not have any pals to try and help me Wisconsin the baby out (apparently this is an area where my friend Sarah is an expert); so instead yesterday we tried combining Mexican Food with a couple of rounds of the Hannah Montana Dance Off on the Wii. Only results are that I'm sore, I have those stupid songs stuck in my head, Abby got her ass whooped AGAIN by me because I have rhythm and she got hers from Mike, and Mike got Montezuma's Revenge. I laughed so hard all night at the thought of being in labor and the nurses smelling the bathroom and me having to explain that no, I had not shit myself during delivery, my husband just ate too many Tacos De Carne Asada.

2009-11-16T05:33:00.003-05:00

Miketastic Monday: Date Night

Saturday night Mike and I made dinner for the kids, called my SIL to come babysit, and headed to the hospital. I had been contracting like crazy, and was uncomfortable, and we were quite certain it was babytime.

We were wrong.

On the plus side, we did get to see the family birthing center where we will deliver. The minus side- no baby.

We drove home and stopped for some fast food, and as we were eating in the car Mike said, "This was a pretty good Date Night. We got dinner, had a sitter, watched part of the Ohio State game, and I got to see an Asian Chick all up in your coochie."

I started laughing. "But there was no beer."

"Yeah," he said, "guess that's as close to a threesome as I'll ever get."

2009-11-15T06:55:00.003-05:00

Sunday Notes

No Baby yet. But, we did end up at the hospital last night. Fun times. When they told me I was still a 1, but I could sit around on the monitors for an hour and then get rechecked, we opted to go home. Mike and I both pointed out that if we had contractions for 24+ hours with no change, nothing miraculous was going to happen in an hour. Plus we were hungry.

I have a great Miketastic Monday story from the hospital trip. Saving it for tomorrow.

Mike's current rant is about how he does not think men should be OB's. He says, if you don't have the parts, you can't understand what the person is going through. I gotta agree with him on this one.

It's baby week for my 2 friends who are due. Here's hoping those babies are out soon and are healthy. And here's hoping this one comes out soon too. The good news from last night was we went to the birthing center where we will have this baby, and we loved the nurses, and the resident. As we were leaving the nurse said, "When you are contracting this much, these last weeks can be tough. Hang in there and we'll see you soon." Never got that at any other hospital, just always jackass male residents telling me I didn't know what REAL contractions were. Definitely baking for the nurses this week!

2009-11-14T13:09:00.003-05:00

Names

I had contractions 6-8 minutes apart and they hurt like hell from 3pm yesterday afternoon until 10 this morning. I did manage to sleep some, but they hurt enough to keep me from sleeping, so finally around 2am I wandered out to the family room, got comfy, and turned on my Hypnobabies Birth Day script. I really thought we were good to go; I called into our group around 7am to beg them to let me come to the hospital and meet me at the door with some Pitocin- no deal. I even dragged the family to Target at 8am, scared the crap out of the cashier who gave me shit over the return, got my store credit, and then followed a screaming Sophie through the store. Why? Why was she screaming? Because as I was making the return Mike took the kids to LOOK at toys.

Amateur.

Around ten I started feeling better, like I might be able to eat and drink and be a fully functional non-bitching person again, so I put together an activity mat for baby whats-her-name and Mike dragged my glider upstairs and once again demonstrated he has spatial relations issues. We then forced ourselves and the children outside to play, and towards the end of our playtime I sat on the driveway with some sidewalk chalk and started listing names.

Middle Names:
Marian
Michael

OH YES, you read that right, we are thinking of giving Baby Tres my husband's name as a middle name since there will be no boy child for us.

First Names:
Elizabeth
Emily
Samantha
Josephine

Then Mike and I started arguing- I'd toss out Cecelia as a possiblity, he'd shoot it down and say Sarah. We went back and forth and finally Abby walked past and said, "Hey, what was Daddy's girlfriend's name? The one he had when he met you? THE ONE WITH THREE ELBOWS?"

And I laughed so hard I peed my pants. The End.

2009-11-13T05:45:00.003-05:00

Friday Fifteen: Waiting....waiting....waiting Edition

1- Last night- The Parent Teacher Conference. I was mad Friday about the report card; calmer over the weekend; and then, after I had lunch with 5 second graders this week, I pretty much understood what her teacher was talking about.
2- It was nice to be able to talk about the teacher's concerns, and tell her what we have started doing at home to address them. But both Mike and I made sure to stress to her that we want to know about things BEFORE the report card comes home, and Mike told her we would be checking in with her in a month.
3- So, basically, Abs is way ahead academically (surprise), and introverted. But her teacher said Abby is a confident introvert- she's pretty happy just doing her thing and pretty clueless and oblivious to a lot of the social stuff that is going on amongst the other second grade girls.
4- I told the teacher the story of the 3 mean girls, and how we had to explain their game to Abby. She was a bit shocked and said, "Well that game isn't helping anyone." No kidding. The teacher also agreed that Abby is totally too passive and nice, especially with the mean girls, and we talked about how Abs is The Back-Up friend, and how interesting it was to see how the not-so-nice girls all swarmed her when she had a parent come in for lunch and were all of a sudden her best friend.
5- Speaking of mean girls.....the Queen Bee called us yesterday at 1:00 and invited herself for a playdate.
6- I wanted to say No. I mean, I've banned this kid ever since she spent a playdate calling me her Servant. Instead, I said alright, and poor Sophie did not get a nap, and I had to waddle down the street and get her. And- it's not an easy playdate, there has to be supervision and interaction and she spent the whole time asking for a snack.
7- When I finally made the snack, I cut up apples and cheese, and then gave each girl 1 cookie. Why just one? They are the GOOD homemade cookies, you remember that recipe. Anyway, I kind of felt like this kid wasn't the kind I was going to give lots of our really good cookies to....she's not a 2 cookie friend. Today we are taking a small container to a playdate with Abby's bestie- they rate high on the cookie list.
8- The little girl then spent the last half hour of the playdate saying, "Abby and I want another cookie." Notice she was not ASKING. I finally said, "No, you already had one cookie." She said, "But I want one!" and I decided right then who she reminds me of- Veruca Salt from the original Charlie and the Chocolate Factory. My response to her? "It's good to want things."
9- Guess what? We should have a baby by this time next week. I'm contracting enough- and miserable enough- that I'm sure I can get my membranes stripped on Wednesday, and that did it with Sophie. I hope that works this time.
10- My mother is still pestering everyone for a name. I wrote her a thank you note for a Boppy Slipcover she sent me from my Fake Target Baby Registry, and in it I told her Myrtle Eileen would really love the slipcover.
11- Of course, you know how it is with my Mom, she had to tell me how great the slipcover was and how she did not buy the one I registered for because it was Brown Fleece on one side and would really show the spit up stains. (who cares that it was super pretty and I really liked it? or that it's washable, duh, so no biggie on spit up stains)
12- No worries, though, because thanks to Target, I got 2 more of the brown fleece slipcovers yesterday in the mail. So, on the one hand, had a great time making the Fake Baby Registry, which was really just intended as my own personal shopping list. Unfortunately, though, I had to call a friend and explain the whole embarrassing thing to her. Because she is a good friend, she pointed out to me that this means I have a valid excuse to go to Target this weekend, and I know two ladies who went into labor after going to Target. Of course, they probably have not experienced Target with Mike and my two kids. I swear I will yell my uterus out if I take them with me.
13- My friend with Ovarian Cancer had her last chemo treatment this week. Now she has until December to rest up, and will start 5 weeks of radiation therapy. Abby made her a picture yesterday- an Egyptian Cat. It's her new favorite obsession, based on a cat statue they discussed in art class.
14- Yesterday was so crazy busy, I'm hoping today we have some quiet time after our morning playdate with the bestie. Sophie could really use a nap- poor kid has not gotten one for 3 days. Of course, I probably won't rest, I'll find something stupid and ridiculous to do. Yesterday, after Sophie's FINAL Therapy appointment, I dragged the children to the grocery store, came home, and reorganized my freezer. Why? So Mike can FIND the vegetables when I'm in the hospital. His response- "It's so cute that you think the kids are going to eat any fruits or vegetables while you are gone." SIGH.
15- Remember the 2 ladies in choir who touch my belly and kiss it and talk to it??? They got me a baby gift. I know, right, kind of makes me an asshat for being so pissy about all the personal space invasion. Guess what was inside? Oh come on. Guess. Assorted baby items with Winnie The Pooh characters all over them. As I was writing the thank you notes yesterday I was laughing my butt off. Of course they would love Winnie The Pooh, and would shower me with a dancing Piglet baby wipes holder, and a ring teether with all the characters on it. LOVES IT. And, yep, I know I'm an asshat. But at least I'm an asshat who wrote a thank you note.

2009-11-12T05:07:00.005-05:00

Pregnancy Update: Week 37ish, Babywatch

We had early labor all day yesterday; by early labor I mean that we had REAL contractions, contractions doing something, for over twelve hours, those contractions that help you get initially dilated. I walked, I baked cookies, I saw my doctor. She walked in and said, "I'm sending everyone to the hospital today! Are we having a baby?!" Jinx. She checked me and I was 1 cm. A change from last week, but still, wouldn't it be nice to be one of those women who is 5 cm and never felt a thing?

I guess this shouldn't surprise me. It's how we labored with the other two kids. So it's exciting that things are starting. But frustrating that this early labor stage is stretched out over DAYS instead of just a few hours.

My body is very sore and tired, so here's hoping today is quiet. Yesterday while the kids ate dinner and I ate toast, Abby overheard us talking about the contractions and said, "You can't have the baby today or tomorrow!" and I said, "WHY? Because you have PLANS?" Yes. That was her exact reason. Sigh. Baby 3, seriously, just come whenever. Everyone else will figure it out.

2009-11-11T19:43:00.002-05:00

just in case...

this morning we started with contractions, went about our normal business, which included a long walk with a friend (3 miles), a trip to my OB (1cm, progress from last week), a very uncomfortable afternoon of more contractions, a 2 mile walk, a phone call to Mike to come help with the children, contractions, baking cookies, contractions, feeding children, contractions contractions contractions.

so, if I'm not around tomorrow, you know why. and if I am, well, I'll probably be sore and ticked off.

2009-11-11T05:28:00.004-05:00

Miketastic Wednesday: Soaking up a new MikeReedism

Last night the children were so hungry I had to feed them before Mike and I ate, so by the time Mike and I sat down, the kids were done and ready to run. They ran upstairs and immediately commenced fighting over Squawkers McGaw, the FurReal Friends Stupid Fucking Parrot that has not worked/been turned on/made any noise for 1.5 years. We cleaned the playroom last weekend, and in my flurry of playroom organization, I found Squawkers, his remote, and his stand; and then mentioned to Abby he needed new batteries, which Mike provided- and we have been in Squawkers Hell ever since.

The kids fight over the remote because- besides going off at random times and scaring the shit out or me- you can also control the parrot, making him do things like catcall whistle at people, or fart. Yep, you can make him fart. So our children fight, over the remote, because they want to make the parrot fart.

Mike and I finished our dinner while listening to Abby scream at her sister WHY she took away the remote and the parrot, as Sophie yelled at the top of her lungs and sobbed "MINEMINEMINE". Bliss. We, naturally, were grasping for anything to talk about, and running out of topics quickly as we tried to ignore the Parrot-induced chaos upstairs. Mike picked up the Zesty Italian salad dressing bottle, read it, and said, "What is Mar-Mih-Nade?"

Oh no. "Um, I think it says, 'Salad Dressing and Mar-Ih-Nade."

"Shit," he said. And started laughing.

"What the hell is Marminade? Does it have anything to do with Marmaduke?"

"I have no clue," Mike said. "I mean, I know what marinade is."

"I think you eat Marminade with a Shark Attack," I said.

2009-11-10T13:09:00.003-05:00

Hazel's Amazing Mother

Last night as we were having dinner, Mike and I were discussing our plans for the next few days, and I realized that on Tuesday I had to get dressed in proper clothes, and get a shower, and do my hair and make-up, all to go into his office and get my seasonal flu shot. That's a lot of bother for a flu shot, and I next had the thought- is there anything else I can do while I'm dressed like a properly functioning member of society?

And then I offered to come to Abby's school and have lunch with her.

Abby was in disbelief. Seriously? Come to MY SCHOOL? With SOPHIE? And then she figured out there would be fast food involved, since I would be gone all morning. Could she get TACO BELL?

Several times last evening, and this morning, I found her staring at me strangely, and I'd ask her what was up, and she'd say, "YOU are coming to my school to have lunch with me? Are you sure?" Yep. I figured there are enough times I have thrown caution to the wind to only have the wind knock my ass out, thanks to a certain 2 year old and her unpredictable behavior. The Universe was overdue for giving me some good Karma.

Get this- Sophie behaved. For 20 minutes. She and I sat there and listened to Abby, and her bestie, and the 3 other girls that came over and joined us without invitation. The rule is that kids can pick 1 friend to come sit with their parents, but no one came to tell us no, and I decided that, since my kid is dealing with rejection from other kids, I wasn't going to reject anyone. This meant that I had 5 second graders vying for my attention, wanting to tell me stories, so I had about 1/5th of the irritation that Abby's teacher has on a daily basis. Second graders have a LOT of stories. And they are all super important, so they have to scream them at you to make sure you hear them. And, quite often, more than one kid is telling you a story at the same time so they have to shout over each other. There's a good chance they scared the baby into staying inside me for a bit longer.

I'm exhausted, Sophie is exhausted, and Abby? She couldn't stop saying thank you as we walked her back to class.

the title refers to Hazel's Amazing Mother, by Rosemary Wells. One of our favorites.

2009-11-10T05:44:00.004-05:00

Notes from the Edge

-Love this part of pregnancy. LOVE IT. In a totally hate it kind of way. The nightly full leg cramps- calves, hamstrings, muscle areas that normally never cramp- those stink. The back pain, hip pain, pelvic pain- I can do without. Last night I asked Mike to rub my back before bedtime, and I was laying on my side in bed. He sat down next to the bed and rubbed my back for about 2 minutes. "Is that good?" he asked, "Because THIS IS NOT THE MOST COMFORTABLE POSITION FOR ME TO RUB YOUR BACK." "Oh," I said, "REALLY? YOU ARE UNCOMFORTABLE?!!!! I am permanently uncomfortable, and have been for over 9 months, gee, I would hate for you to have to endure some discomfort for five minutes to try and alleviate my horrible pain." He got the point, I got my back rubbed, the end.

-I'm craving snow cones. Right now. At 5:47am.

-I'm very determined to not have the baby until after this week is over, and my week is technically over Thursday evening after Abby's Parent/Teacher conference. Mike has heard me say this several times, and he decided last night to show me that MY calendar might be empty as of then, but he still has things to do, and appointments, so it would be more convenient if I stuck to his plan and had this baby on the 19th. Surprisingly, he still has all of his body parts intact.

-One of the most common questions we have right now is, "What are you going to name her?" We honestly don't know. Seriously. Do. Not. Know.

-Our insurance company, Sucky McTakeAllOurMoney Care, has moved me around several times to different variations of Healthy Pregnancy Programs. I get a call about every 6 weeks, have to sit on the phone for half an hour, and answer ridiculous questions. The problem is, I totally know they are trying to figure out if I am high risk (therefore high money). SO I totally fuck with them. Last week I got a phone call and when they asked me about my weight gain, I said, "30 pounds." She said, "What was your pre-pregnancy weight?" And then I paused. "Hello?" she asked. "Well," I said, "Since I just totally lied to you about my weight gain, I have to do some math." Yesterday in the mail I got a package from them- this is, oh, my third package because each program I get put into either gets cut by the company, or cut by insurance. In the package was a crapload of pamphlets on having a healthy pregnancy, and then - my favorite- What To Expect The First Year. Mike saw the book and said, "Don't we already have this? OH WAIT! It's REVISED. That just means they moved shit around." Yep. And I wonder if the insurance company bothered to check the eight million surveys they made me do to see that I already have 2 children, so I sort of know WHAT TO EXPECT and don't need a book. Couldn't they have used that money on something more useful, like, say, covering our medical bills?

-Today I have to put on proper clothes, and try not to look so "tired" (love it when people tell me that right now), and waddle into Mike's office for my seasonal flu shot, then drive back out here, pick up lunch, and go to the elementary school to hopefully have a peaceful 20 minute lunch with Abby and Sophie. I really hope this goes well...

-Part of my solution to Abby bugging her teacher to look at the eight million pictures she draws all day long was to tell her to start making pictures and putting them in my hospital bag. Yesterday she came home with 3. So, I might not have important things, like my list of daily meds, or some semblance of a birth plan, but at least I have decorations!

-The other very common question right now? Any signs of labor? I'm fighting contractions every day, but seriously, if she wanted to come, she would. I'm just not working with them, if that makes sense. No relaxing, no Hypnobabies, no walking, no pursuing natural sources of prostaglandins....next week.

-Yesterday I asked Abby how recess went, and if she played with anyone, and what they played. She did play with her bestie, and they pretended to be Pokemon (she told me the names, all I heard was blah blah Fire blah blah blah Cat). I said, "What do the other little girls play?" and she said, "They sing some songs and stand in a circle. Pokemon is more fun." She then went on about the Pokemon she and her bestie were, and something about how one of them was evolved, and how that affects point totals.....BIG SIGH. At least she was playing, right?

-Mike pointed out to me that our kids are weird because I AM WEIRD. And I pointed out to him, in the middle of dinner, that my weirdness is part of what he loves. I then told Abs the story of the day I told Mike I loved him for the first time. We had gone hiking, and saw a Great Horned Owl swoop right in front of us, and I decided to share with him how deadly they are, how one of my professors had a friend who DIED because they came upon a Great Horned Owl baby on the forest floor, and mistakenly thought it was abandoned- the mothers sit high in the trees and keep watch as the baby explores. Anyway, the mom swooped down, talons out, and hit the guy square in the chest and punctured both lungs and he died. They had to remove the owl from his chest- it's talons were that deep into his rib cage. So, Mike did not run screaming from my freaky owl story, and when we got back to the trail head, I told him I loved him. Happily Weirdly After.

2009-11-09T06:57:00.003-05:00

BRICK

We've had a running conversation this weekend with each other, and with neighbors, and even my father called to weigh in. On what? Abby's report card. This is what comes of posting your problems with a second grade teacher online.

This is totally reminiscent of my third grade experience with Mrs. Price. To sum it up, Mrs. Price scheduled a parent/teacher conference at my parents' house a few weeks before the end of the school year to tell my parents I had turned in no math worksheets for, oh, EVER, and when she discovered this she searched my desk and found every single math worksheet (multiplication and division) and I was going to fail third grade for not doing the worksheets. I remember my parents first taking the teacher's side, and then, as the conversation went on, they quickly discovered that the issue was that I learned multiplication and division the first week we did it, and I decided the repetitious worksheets were not worth doing, and I was reading instead. I was not disrupting class; I was just avoiding doing math work that I learned the first time we around.

This was my first lesson in parenting, and public school education. I was a super smart kid, and I quickly picked up on the fact that I had to do all of the worksheets, or fail third grade, and that my parents were going to punish me for not doing the work. But more than anything, they were angry and frustrated with my teacher. And the lesson I learned was do the work, do what you have to do in that teacher's class, and someday you will have a different, hopefully better teacher. Which I did, 4th and 5th grade, Marion Quarles. She recognized that I learned things quickly, and then, to keep me busy, she would tell me to read. AND READ. AND READ SOME MORE.

If I have not said it before, let me say it again- Abby is a carbon copy of me as a little kid. I can tell you that I am 100% convinced that she is annoying the living shit out of her teacher. Part of it is she is so insanely smart, part of it is that, because she is so smart, she is totally weird. Now, I love that about her, and so does Mike. But we recognize that other adults- and children- may not feel as we do. She has one best friend, the only other little girl in first grade who would play Endangered Animal Rescuer with her, because no one else understood The Endangered Species Act and could discuss the plight of the Arctic Wolf. For two years those girls were together, and we also encouraged her to play with a gal down the street, so Abby always had those two girls to play with. Then in February, the girl down the street moved far away; and this year, her bestie is in a different class, and Abs is a bit lost.

Now, if the second grade teacher had called me the second week of school to say, "Abby is having difficulty finding people to work with in class" I could have explained that most of the girls in that class live in our neighborhood, or Abby knows them from soccer, but the problem is she's been seperated from her bestie and is feeling lost. Nurture away. But ten weeks into the grading period, and Abs still plays with her bestie, or the little boy around the corner, at recess. She recently told me that 3 girls from the neighborhood were playing at recess, and they ran up to her and said, "Hey Abby, do you want to play with us?" and she said, "YES!" and then they laughed and ran away. Abby had NO CLUE what they were doing, or why, so I had to explain that their game was to make her feel bad, and next time they did this, she should look at them and say, "NO, I would rather play with this STICK." "But that would be mean, Mommy," she said. Mike sighed a big exasperated sigh. "ABBY, THEY are mean. You have to be mean back." Abby just went back to reading her book.

We have also heard some stories from Abby to make us think her teacher might be a little bit annoyed by her intelligence. Now, Abby isn't the kind of kid who rattles off stuff to make other people look stupid. But, she is totally the kind of kid who rattles off random stuff so quickly that it makes adults uncomfortable- and feel stupid. Her teacher was recently giving Abby a very belated reading evaluation, and she told Abby, "There is no way you are understanding what you are reading, you are reading that book too fast." She then told Abby to TELL her about the book, and Abby began reciting the book from the beginning, and it was a Magic Tree House Research Guide (non-fiction) about weather. Ever had a 7 year old explain to you how dangerous the eye of a hurricane is? I'm betting it took about 20 minutes away from that teacher's life that she will never get back. And I understand, because I was the EXACT way as a kid. I eventually learned to stick my nerdy light under a bushel, and when I got to high school and college, I finally was able to let my light shine. But elementary school and junior high? Survival was key.

The best gift my parents gave me- and I am not saying they were anywhere near storybook parents, but OH MY GOD who is- was that they just let me be me. My dad eventually figured out that, even at a young age, I could make his friends look super stupid, and this was funny to him, so he encouraged it. My step-mom gave me books upon books to read, ran me to the library all summer, and never once told me No, you are too young to read that. Which, I guess, is what we are passing onto Abby.

We decided this weekend that we would go into this conference as mild as can be. No guns blazing. Instead, hey, our kid is weird, she is annoying the teacher, so what can we do to make sure Abby figures out how to survive second grade and not get these behavior marks again?

Sunday we were priming and prepping Abby for a neighborhood birthday party. A pool party. I told her I was putting a bag of diving toys in for her, and she said, "Okay, so if I want to go play by myself I can just dive for those." Mike and I both screamed, "NO!" at the same time. "No, Abby," I said, "You can NOT go to a birthday party and play by yourself. You have to play with the other children." And Abby was totally puzzled by that. Later, Mike got home from dropping her off and I said, "Did you make sure she was settled?" "Yes," he assured me, "I made sure she found another kid to hang with before I left. Now, I have no clue what she is doing at this point, and you might want to stay by the phone." I sighed. "Honey, I've been thinking about this. You know that show, The Middle? I think Abby might be Brick."

Brick is a character on the show who is the youngest child, very smart, has trouble socializing, prefers to read a book during a playdate than play with the other child, and whispers to himself at the end of sentences. But he's HAPPY that way. Happy as a freaking clam. Just like Abby.

Mike started laughing. "I think you're right."

"I can just see Abby walking into that party and going up to the Mom and saying, 'Thanks for inviting me to the pool party (whisper: pool party).'" We were cracking up laughing.

So, if you don't watch The Middle, you need to start. Wednesday nights, ABC. And here is a bit of Brick to start your week.

2009-11-08T06:53:00.002-05:00

Cuddle-licious

My children are sensing something is coming. I'm not sure if it's because they can see the alien in Mommy's tummy rolling around; or if my packed bag in the bedroom is scaring them.

We are not, by nature, a cuddly people. I realize those of you out there are, but I did not grow up in a cuddly household. I still find it awkward to hug my parents. And I could analyze this, I'm sure there are some pretty deep roots to this, butI just don't care to. Mike and I aren't cuddly spouses. We do not engage in PDA, our kids do not see us making out and sticking each other's hands in inappropriate places (this is TOTALLY blamed on my childhood). I do hug my kids, I do smooch my kids- I just don't do it ten times a day.

So- yesterday I noticed both of them are all over me. Abby is wanting to walk next to me, hold my hand, just be near me. I made sure I gave her lots of little smooches, headpats, hugs, all day long. Then my neighbor pointed out that Sophie was spending an awful lot of time in my lap, demanding hugs.

I didn't quite figure it all out until about 3:30 this morning when I was wandering around my house, eating cinnamon raisin toast and chugging milk. There must be something that is cueing them into my soon-to-be absence, something that is telling them that soon my arms are going to be constantly full, and one more person is going to be wanting hugs and kisses and snuggles. Around 4 Sophie woke up; she and I fell asleep together on the couch for an hour, and though it was not the best sleep I've ever had, nor was it the most comfortable, it certainly was the snuggliest, with her little head tucked under my chin and her big toddler feet jabbing into my legs. I savored every second of it.

2009-11-07T06:56:00.004-05:00

Poke the Pregnant Angry Bear

Yesterday Abby brought home her report card, and she asked to read it to me, and of course I said SURE. For her academics, she had all 1's, highest you can get. Then she flipped the report over and said, "Mommy, I have two x's in this part and I don't know what it means."

An X means that a student is NOT performing well in an area, and I thought okay, well, this could easily be a disorganized thing, she got marks for that last year and I shrugged it off. NO. Abby got an X next to "works well with others" and "demonstrates self control in the classroom."

Wow- my child is out of control? Abby? And she does not work well with others? How does a shy, passive kid who is a perfectionist and a people-pleaser get marks in these areas?

I quickly glanced at the comments section and there was NO explanation. I called the school and left a voice mail for her teacher, then sent an email, saying I wanted to be contacted immediately.

I started asking Abby, "Have you gotten in trouble at school? Has your behavior card been flipped?" She had no idea and was sobbing. We get a daily calendar sent home for behavior, and every day my daughter has been green (good behavior) or even BLUE (excellent above average behavior). I have never had a phone call from her teacher about this, no emails, no notes sent home about her classroom behavior. We were totally blindsided and clueless.

I finally got a call around 5 from her teacher, who had been in a meeting. She explained the behavior marks this way: When the teacher tells the kids to find a partner, or get in groups to do an assignment, Abby often comes up to her and says she can not find someone to work with. The teacher then has to take time to find Abby a group. This is also seen as a playground issue, because she often sees Abby playing by herself. She really feels that by second grade children must be confident enough to find people to work with and play with quickly and without the teacher's intervention, and since this takes time away from whatever the teacher is doing, it is a disruption and a behavior problem and counts as not working well with others. She assured me that Abby works just fine once she is in the group; that is not the issue. Next up, during transition time in class, the time in between lessons, Abby often asks her teacher to look over her work or comment on a picture she drew or asks to tell her a story, which is nice, but the teacher is very busy and this is a disruption and counts as Abby not demonstrating self-control in the classroom. The teacher assured me this does not happen during lesson time, but during the time between lessons.

I read my notes back to the teacher on the phone to make sure what I had written down was accurate, and then told her I would talk with Abby and her father and we would discuss this further Thursday at our conference.

I was in tears. ARE YOU KIDDING ME? (deep breath) I called one of my good friends, someone who also has a second grader in this class, went out in the garage and screamed and cried. My child is shy, and passive, and her teacher says she needs too much help and reassurance, and this is a behavior issue. I'm a former teacher. I can see how these two items could be annoying, but to mark it as a behavior issue on a report card is a bit much. I even made certain I told her teacher that, as a former teacher, I would expect that if my child was having behavior issues in the classroom we would hear about it BEFORE a report card. She told me that she sees the report card as the way to communicate with parents, so that is why it was the first time we were hearing about this issue.

I had to sit down with my daughter and correct this issue. There is no halvsies, no in-between when someone says it is a Behavior Issue. I had to find a nice way to tell my 7 year old that it is disrupting class and bothering her teacher when she asks for reassurance on work, or when she wants to tell her teacher a story, or wants to show her a picture, and that when she is told to get in a group, she needs to get up right away and not be shy and find a partner quickly, even if someone says No she has to keep trying. What I wanted to say is, basically, Your Teacher is annoyed by you. That's what it comes down to. And I do not think this is a behavioral issue, and I do not have a problem with my child being shy, or passive. I taught high school age children and the FIRST RULE in assigning group work to any age level is that you find a creative way to form the groups. You do NOT leave it up to the students to choose, because you always end up with a group of very passive, shy students who can not find a group to work with. I can not change her teacher, and I won't raise a huge stink; instead I have to guide Abby through this year, and teach her that every teacher is different, and for this one, this is what you have to do. And hope that in third grade she gets someone a tad bit more patient and nurturing.

Meanwhile, I told #3 to hang in there. I will be at that parent/teacher conference Thursday night. GAME ON.