Those Silly Preggers Dreams

Of course, most pregnant moms can relate to the completely ridiculous dreams that spawn from some bizarre hormonal-induced place in the brain. Be they tantric sex dreams, birthing a baby horse dreams, having 13 babies dreams, whatever. Even in a non-pregnant state of being, I've had very vivid, detailed, elaborately realistic dreams my entire life. I can remember a reoccurring dream that I began having at age 5 and continued through my teens involving King Kong, a steep hill in my home town, and a metal lunchbox. Analyze That one el dreamo experts. A few weeks back, I had a dream that Sylvia and I were at some weird animal adoption center catering to not only cats and dogs, but adoptable wildlife too. But there is that bizarre catch sprinkled in: all the animals were half dissected and being plastinized like the Body Worlds 3 exhibit that was in St. Louis a few months back. And if you live here, you really couldn't avoid the dead humans on billboards, buses, and newspapers. Get this too, the animals were still alive. So my daughter and I are walking through this adoption place with half torn apart, screaming in pain, wild zoo creatures. Yuck!
Then there was last night, which wasn't so mortifying, but was still a confusing one. I was living in a little house on the hill when I got a friendly visit from the ghost of my grandfather, who has been dead for about 5 years. He came to tell me he was still angry about the curtain situation. Not knowing what the hell he was referring to, I asked my cousin, who is about 12 years younger than me. She informed me that right before my Papa died, she told him how much I hated his curtains in his house. So he paid her $500 to replace all the curtains and rods, to appease me. Then he died before she could complete this task. So now, his ghost was telling me how that hurt his feelings and he is still harboring issues, post-mortem and all. What kind of weird dream message does that involve? So confusing, but much less disturbing that the f**ed up animals. That one was just plain gross.

So, beloved readers (secretive and all, MICHELLE) tell me your most bizarre pregnancy-induced dreams. P.S. You can leave the overly-detailed husband sex dreams out, not at all interested in hearing about those, thanks!!

Another Post Regarding Time

It's now 8:30 and Sylvia put herself to sleep, with only about 30 seconds of crying. Her new thing is to super delay sleep by asking for more water, saying she has to pee, crying that her room is too dark (she has never had a nite-lite), or saying she wants to snuggle. We cave to most of these demands, because part of us feels that they are justified. But deep down, I know she is stalling. Yet I'm proud of the major leaps we have made in the past month regarding her bedtime routine. At the beginning of summer, she had been going to bed around 7:30 or 8 and sleeping till 7:30 or 8 (don't be jealous, this is followed by 10 months of nursing at least 3x a night and a year of irregular sleep patterns, night screaming, and 5a.m.ers). When full blown summer hit, her bedtime slowly crept up to 8:30,9 or 9:30. I cherish my night times for crafting, blogging, and watching tv. So this put a serious crimp in my lifestyle. Plus, she'd get up like super early, so it's not like the 11-12 hour sleep cycle continued with this later evening bedtime. Oh no, she got up earlier and earlier and earlier. Then take a 3 hour nap midday. Crossing my fingers, we are back to about a 10 hour night cycle and 1.5-2 hour afternoon nap. Here is me jinxing it...she'll totally be up like 50 times tonite and I'll blog tomorrow how much I hate attempting to pin down my fickle daughter's sleep schedule.
It also helped that she walked the long 2.5 blocks home from the library tonite at like 7 and we read about 10 new library books that she was really into. You can be jealous that THAT is what really wears my daughter out.

It's 5 a.m., why aren't YOU awake?

I was awoken this morning at 5 a.m. by 2 huge, itching mosquito bites on each of my legs. Yes, a bugger got in and had a good blood-sucking party on me mid-sleep cycle. After peeing and itching like a banshee, I had total mommy paranoia. As soon as Syl hit 4 months, I rarely got those midnight fears of her not breathing...must go check...feel her chest....get reassured moments. I probably never experienced those cuz she wasn't sleeping through the night till 10 months. So if I thought she wasn't breathing, I would simply wait a few minutes to hear her screaming for more boob. That was my reassurance that everything was ok. But before bed last night, her nose was really stuffy (to that annoying point where it was annoying her). So I gave her a little Benadryl and sent her on her happy-drug-induced way. I mean seriously, can a tbs really harm even the smallest, blood-sucking mosquito? Probably not, but I had to go check on her...feel her chest...discover her sleeping sideways with hear pushed to wall...take sigh of relief. Then I had to feel baby-in-oven move...kick...reassured. I guess the paranoia may never end.
It comes equipped with motherhood (I'd say parenthood, but I've yet to see the statistical proof that daddy's experience this absurd emotion as intensely as mommies).

So here you are, up to speed, with myself being fully awake at now 5:45 am. Maybe I should make crepes for breakfast.

Another unexpected pregnancy-induced symptom is numbness of my right hand. Like now, as I'm in the typing position (which was taught to me in a high school typing class, ya know, to train me to be a proper secretary) and my right hand is numb and tingly. Obviously its not stopping me from my early morning/late night rambling, but it kinda blows. Oh, and I just thought of another symptom I didn't experience with Syl: big feetness. My shoes are all suddenly really tight, even the shoes I've owned for like 5 years and are super stretched out. On a recent trip to TJ Maxx, I fit in a 9 (I pride myself on my petite 7.5 tootsies, 8 if the shoe is narrow). The egotistical girl in me couldn't come to bear a 9, so I didn't get those shoes. I know, superficial. But it kinda makes me add it to the list of why I should give this baby a semi-torturous name for his entire life. On that list would also be "because you tried to kick your way out via my cervix every night at bedtime." Maybe I should make a list, for old times sake. And really, what else is there to do at 5:41 a.m.?

The List of Things to Hold Over My In-Utero Sons Head/Why I Gave You That Ridiculous Name and Didn't Feel Bad About it List:
1)because you threw 17 long, sometimes torturous, guilt-filled years of not consuming any meat products (which by the way includes avoiding Starbursts and marshmallows) down the toilet

2)though you aren't the most active in-utero baby, you decide to attempt to climb/claw/kick your way out through my precious cervix (or somewhere really, really low in my pelvis) right at bedtime, prolonging my difficult falling-to-sleep time

3)because for you, my dear, I was sick for the first 5 months of pregnancy, and still, at almost 6 months, have very little energy/stamina

4)because having a semi-traumatic name from birth gives you an eternal bitterness that can only stem from having said traumatic name. plus a resentment towards your parents that can't ever be fixed, and isn't that priceless?

5)because at this point, I'm kinda feeling like opening There's a Zamp in my Lamp by Dr. Seuss and naming you wherever my finger may fall

6)because your true friends will never make fun of your name (to your face)

7)because you, my son to be, mark the end a my baby-making phase in life. Yes, it was only 2 kids long (and 2 miscarriages, but I may leave that part out of his story) but it goes well beyond the 10 month gestational period, well over the 18+ month nursing phase, and into the part where I feel like my body/mind/ bed is partially mine again. Isn't that long enough to extend some torture unto my offspring?

This concludes my now 6am ramble. If you ever wanted to know whether or not my sarcasm and endless babbling can occur at any time in the day, the answer is YES!

P.S. Happy Birthday to Dave, the Husband that Tolerates Me and My Woes!

The Drama for the Adoptive Mama (and Daddy, but it really isn't so catchy)

Ahimsa is a fellow Craft Mafia member of mine, and I first met her a few years back at the Tower Grove Farmer's Market. She was the right blend of sweet and salty, which I cherish in a person. You couldn't tell at first, but when you read one of her sock monkey stories, I just new she had some sass to back it up with. I'm a fan of those who can take a simple thing (stuffed sock) and creatively sprinkle it with hilarity and silliness.
Anywho, I don't know her that well, but I'm obsessed with reading people's blogs, and hers is on my list. I could ramble on, but I'll skip to the part of her and her hubbie finally adding a beautiful daughter to their family via Korea. Add the drama of being thrust into parenting an almost toddler, they were denied health care for the new little Olive (which p.s. was Sylvia's original name but my mother ruined that one for me and I'm still super bitter). Our local news (which I normally think is total crap) covered the story and they need our support. The support I would enjoy partaking in would be the kind that involves throwing paper bags of my dog's (or better yet, my child's) poo at someone in charge (be it insurance/medical/government/soon-to-be-ex-president), I guess I'll pass the story along instead. I mean, I AM almost 6 months pregnant and it would be a shame to spent the last months of my pregnancy in jail. I'm just saying Fricks, I've got lots of poo if you need it.
Please read the story here.
Hopefully I'm properly linking it cuz I'm not too internetally inclined. See? THAT doesn't even make sense.
I wish them all the luck in the pursuit of a what should be goddamn given right to everyone in the entire world= free and wonderful healthcare. Because really, are we not all part of the same human race? Oh wait, I forgot. It's the white race we're running here. Oh, the rich, white race. The privileged race where only those who s**k the man's d**k can benefit from.
Wow, I'm saucy tonite. Please throw me a benefit rally if I get arrested. I'll need a little help with the bail.

Randomness

After dealing with the ugliness that could result in identity fraud all morning, the family had a pretty productive day. After Sylvia's 3 hour nap (making up for the mere 9 hours of sleep last night), we ate at Sweet Tomatoes and spent over an hour at the Barnes & Noble down the street from it. There was a baby there that was super cute and totally into Sylvia being all psycho on her. That meant I was able to peruse an Amy Butler book on baby-oriented crafts. So cute, but totally out of any sort of budget I pretend we have. Anyway, when we got home, I was totally motivated to sew and decided to re-visit my idea on tooth fairy pillows, complete with pockets and all. After building my fabric stash for over a year now, I have lots of cute coordinating fabrics. Lately, I've been using them exclusively for my bird mobiles. But since I just made 5 more of those, I whipped up a few pillows, just as a trial. Sylvia loved them (she is my unbiased judge) and Dave even agreed that it was a great idea for Strange Folk, which is a month away. AND to top it all off, I took a few photos of the first trial 2. After these, I whipped up 2 more that are even better, but my camera battery is charging and a lazy preggers really wants to watch Project Runway. Here are the trial 2 (front and back of red one, back is the pocket. the blue one turned out horrible in photo, but has tooth fairy initials on it and a pocket on the back).

On another random note, we had some surprise visitors right before lunch today. Some playgroup mamas and their kids stopped by, only to witness the furry house that we had just returned home to. Anyway, Syl is in LOVE with Khadijah, who is now 5. Sam is 4, but Syl is only half interested in him. When I came downstairs from showing Michelle our house, this was what I saw. And they sat together like this for a good 15 minutes. I guess kids don't quite get the concept of spacial issues like us adults.

Lastly, I was trying to capture the ridiculousness that is Sylvia's curls. All I can say is, "just let your soul glow!"

Back in Town, Pissed for Sure

Just got back from the corn fields of Illinois to discover my debit account was charged $200 for some bullshit pre-employment testing software something. Now I have to cancel my card, wait to get my money, and be late paying my student loan, which is what that money was for. My mom was all, you should be grateful "they" didn't take more. More? There is nothing more to take! Why would "they" take more when there is no more? Technology can be such a filthy bitch. And why wouldn't "they" order something a bit more exciting, like, I don't know, PORN! or BRAS! or BOOKS on TAPE! Ugghh.

Leaving, but not on the jet plane type

We are going on an in-law trip for the next few days, so I will totally be out of the web fun zone I've become addicted to. I've been so busy crafting away, cleaning my house (only to have to clean it as soon as we return, the plus side to 3 animals), and trying to psyche ourselves up for the Great 2 Bathroom Renovation of 2008. I know, are we crazy or what. No need to answer that one Heather, it was rhetorical!! When I was preggers with Syl, we converted our tiny 2 family apt to a decent size 1 family unit. And when I say "we" I mean I dictated and Dave slaved. But that's beside the point, I was growing a baby human and all.

We are also having major boy name issues. Man, they are significantly harder than girls names, which I had about 5 good ones pre-ultra sound. I'm strange and like Oren Gray and Dave wants a junior, or 2nd, or whatever men like to do with their poor male offspring. We can't agree and I know we have a few months to go, but wouldn't it be nice to just have it picked and never have to think about it again? Wishful thinking.

Oh My

Sylvia needs this. Like right now. Pray that I win this cuz if you've ever seen my kid, she would instantly get scooped up and put on the cover of Toddler Vogue if she was seen in public with this on. Wow. Super super cute.

Goooooooo Crafts!

The meeting with the boutique owner went super swimmingly. She ended up only wanting to consign my tag blankets and embroidered hoop wall creatures but she straight out bought 10 slings. Hurray!! She said someone comes in everyday and asks for ring slings so hopefully they sell. Now I'm in a pinch for Strange Folk, which is 5 weeks away. She also bought all my bird mobiles so I'm starting fresh with those. My brain is teaming with new ideas, and a bit of money. It goes with the saying that everything happens for a reason, indeed. Though I priced stuff less to sell wholesale, I sold my stuff at once. So all in all, that rox. Plus, she's a young single mom with her own baby boutique. Am I jealous? Yes, but I'll let it slide if she keeps buying my stuff!!

Though I sold all my fabric embroidered thingies (don't really know what to call them), I took a photo for the rock n roll craft show entry form, so here is an example. No photos of the mobiles. Sorry. You should have come to my last craft show and seen them in person (pregnancy sarcasm is the best..oh wait, I'm always sarcastically bitchy).

Feeling Groovy

Feeling totally normal now, thank the lord above. Syl and I have been making up for lost days last week by bike riding and playing outside as much as possible. Plus this weather here in the Lou is f**king RAD! Yea!
So I participated in Crafta Nostra last weekend, which was positive because I got to go socialize with other human adults but negative cuz I sold squat. I worked hard creating a lot of diversity in my products, but alas, my target audience didn't feel like shopping a craft show that night. I think I saw 1 pregnant lady. Hopefully Strange Folk will be more beneficial, financially and all. At least I'll have a ton of stuff already made for it. I'll probably make a few more asian slings and maybe some mobiles and call it the end. I'm meeting with a baby boutique owner today to discuss carrying my stuff over in Edwardsville. Maybe those mommies will buy my stuff!

On a pregnancy note, my ass bone is killing me lately. I sat in a wiry patio chair last night at a bbq for like 3 hours and rode a bike around (with a toddler connected) all morning and can barely sit now. Ouch! Riding my bike has also snapped me into the reality that I am significantly more out of shape this time around than with Syl. I have a few more months to get it together, or I'm anticipating a much more tiring labor. But I suppose ALL labors are tiring.

Me, Sickly

I've been spending the last 2 days curled up in a ball, waiting for the next wrenching to show me it's nasty face. I caught whatever bug Syl had, though hers seemed much more brief and way less intense. I tried to take her to the library this morning, but it was a quickie. My tummy couldn't handle the stench of used books, apparently. One may think a stomach bug is relatively tolerable, except when one is 5 months pregnant and paranoid as all get out anyway. I of course had to call my ob this morning and ask the nurse if viruses are transmittable in utero. I almost heard her chuckle, but politely, she held it in until I hung up. Then they all sat around and totally made fun of me. Then they talked about how my daughter arrived pant less to my appt the other day because I am unfit to be a mother. Then they called the licensing department to inform them that the weight I've listed on my drivers license is totally wrong. So pull me over and arrest me immediately.
I've barely kept anything down for 2 days and my stomach is in a perpetual knot. After hurling bile all morning, Syl, the lucky child, got to watch 1.5 hours of noggin cartoons. My rule is always no tv in the morning, but I couldn't stand up. I couldn't entertain, and I couldn't pick her up. All things that scream "just swallow your unrealistic ideals and turn on the f**king boobtube!" So I did.
I bet if I were to step back on the scale at the dr.'s office today I'd be down a few pounds. It's so hard to be so sick and pregnant. At least when you have morning sickness it's 1)before you are feeling the baby move, so it's almost like you're just plain sick for some mysterious reason and 2)the phenomenal cravings satiate the other times of day when the sickness subsides. This is so different and I can't wait to feel better. So far, nothings come up since this morning, but the night is still young...
Dave was able to get off early and scoop Syl off to the Magic House. I told him she usually only lasts about 2 hours, and they'd make it around dinner time (yes, we eat like old people style early). After 3 hours, he called to report she refused to leave. What was I to say? "I'm really super pissed that for ONCE you were able to get off when I am really sick and take Syl out of my hands for several hours so that I could relax, wallow in my misery, and watch Oprah. Come Home NOW!" I gladly told him to stay as long as she wanted and they had a blast. Amen. I can count the times on 3 fingers that this has happened while I'm sick.
This isn't really turning into a blast my husband blog. It's more of a blast my husband's job blog. Just kidding (their non-profit, can't really hate).
Cross my fingers that I feel better tomorrow and can actually enjoy the unseasonable weather. I think I spent 3 minutes outside today(cry me a river, right?).

Sylvia: The 27th Month

My little bug, today you awoke at 5 am screaming your head off. It hearkens back to those beloved newborn days when panic sets in at the initial cry, then all over anger washes over me when I realized that nothing was wrong and it was 5 am. Lucky for me, you started calling for daddy, which he loves to hear, and I get more sleep. You slept till 7, which is still early, but better than 5. Up till last week, you had been sleeping till almost 8. Now it's more like 6:30. Did Eliot tip you off to some exciting event that takes place that g**damn early in the morning? Because I'm here to tell you HE IS LYING!
Aside from the very brief bug you had that led to the worst 20 week ob appointment EVER, and now I think I'm sharing with you, toddlerhood is an ever-changing adventure. The more tired I get, the more energy appears around you. I think you're sucking it out of me, but it could be your little brother in my belly. Speaking of him, you have begun to speak to my belly (mainly, my belly button, which is apparently the porthole of sound). It's super cute, except that you yell things like, "WAKE UP BABY!!" or (still yelling) "SSSSSSSHHHHHHH, baby is sleeping." Though endearing of you, I'm a bit concerned this is how the level of volume will be when he is actually sleeping. We'll work on that lesson later though.
Another cute achievement we've made with you is your singing voice. You adore the new Laurie Berkner album we got for you and have the entire cd memorized. Every time we get in the car, you request specific songs and sing all the words while wriggling in your car seat. I'm glad you are musical already, that'll make daddy very proud. You've also gotten into crayons and painting. And, oh my, you allow your precious little fingers to actually touch the paint and make a mess. Shocking for our anal retentive little child, but this makes mommy proud. You've even been requesting to go to the Art Museum recently, though we haven't been there since you were in a sling. I don't know if you remember this or got it for those Olivia books. The influential power of girlish pigs astounds me.
This past month we have successfully weaned you off diapers. I still put you in an overnight, but I think we're about to phase that out since you wake dry every morning. But it concerns me because we keep your room so dark and I know you couldn't find the potty by yourself in the middle of the night. So besides the few poopy slip-ups, you've taken to it very easily. People were so dramatic about the entire process, yet you made the transition seamlessly. I'm pleased with the quickness of the process, and I'm thrilled to not wash diapers (for now).
I can't believe it's been 27 months. Some days I look at your newborn photo and get teary at the speed at which things change. But you are so much more entertaining now, and what is life if we don't grow, change, and occasionally shit in our pants?

Summer Gear

I know, 2 posts in 1 day. Pathetic. But I just wanted to show you either a) how crazy my toddler is or b) how summertime pregnancy means keeping it real chill indoors.

So Rough and So Long

Today I had my 20 weeks appointment. Since I figured it would be a short and sweet one, I didn't make any arrangements for Syl, assuming she'd do fine. I brought the usual in my newly smaller bag: snacks, crayons, books, ect. Since she's done so well this past month or so on the potty, I only carry a spare pair of undies, shorts, and a wet bag, just in case. Can you see where this story is going yet? As we are hanging in the waiting room (where they have a tv on, I mean really, what's up with that?) I keep asking if she has to potty. She always gets frustrated with this constant question, but I know what happens if I forget to ask. All of sudden, "mom, I have to pee." So off we go running down the hall to the nearest potty. It's the definite downside of potty-training...long-distance potty runs. When we arrived, she peed in the potty, but I noticed she had some diarrhea in her undies. Shoot, not quick enough. So I pulled out the spare pair in my bag. The wipes container must have been open or something cause they were very damp (or my water bottle leaked, but nothing else was wet, so who knows. I tossed the yuckos in the wet bag, cleaned her up, and just told her a new word "commando." Back in the office we go, sure enough, a minute later, she had more diarrhea. And no undies. And guess what? No spare shorts. I had forgotten the Old Navy accident of the other morning and I used the spare pair.

As I reenter the office, with a shortless and underwearless kid in tow, I get called. I ask if they have any spare diapers, for my new freedom from diapers blocked my reality of what it is to potty-train. There are accidents, so deal with it. Of course an ob's office doesn't stash size 5 diapers, so the nurse wrapped a paper cover in a skirt like fashion over her waist. As ridiculous as it seemed, Syl liked her new attire. Not only did it provide a gently breeze on her booty, but there was a huge paper bow in front. I, on the other hand, was a total 5 month pregnant mess. In the bathroom, I couldn't stop crying. I kept asking the poopy gods why this had to happen today, not yesterday, not tomorrow, but this exact morning at my obs office? Why? Of course, my only reply was a foul stench that was coming from my poop-ridden bag. The real answer? I have a newly potty-trained toddler who is bound to have accidents. And now I think she must have a bug, because it relates back to late last night's super-puking all over her bed extravaganza. I had to bathe her and change the entire bedding by myself, because of course, Dave needed a break and went to have some beers at a friend's house.
I'm not the one who needs a break, right??!! I really enjoy spending 2 hours int he middle of the night cleaning puke and a pukey child and trying to figure out why she's pukey and then getting her to fall back to sleep after the incident was over. And I enjoy emergency super explosions right before an important appointment.
As we were driving home, Syl asked me why I was looking out the window. My only answer was "I'm thinking about where I'd rather be right now." Totally selfish, I know. But in that moment, so true.
The funny thing about this entire past 24 hours is how much more chaotic everything is going to be with 2. One having diaper explosions, the other having underwear explosions. Just where I want to be.

Lucy (no, not my dead dog)

It's been a very busy week over here at the Utah Street residency. We've had family in from outta town, I've been crafting up a storm for the Crafta Nostra this weekend (please come buy my shit if you live in the area...thank you), and Syl and I have been running ourselves ragged. Since my boss is outta town for 2 weeks, then we leave on a short jaunt for 4 days, my August has already been dubbed the "broke" month. But today I splurged with the tax-free days and got baby boy some clothes, along with some things for Dave and I. You know you're buying pregnancy/post-pregnancy oriented clothing when all the waists are elastic and your husband says the pants you just spent a whole $2.99 on at Old Navy remind him of something your own mother would wear. Great.

On the rare July cool morning last week, Syl and I made a mad-dash to the zoo. Though humidity was at like 1 million percent, we had a great time enjoying the freeness that is the first hour at the St. Louis zoo. We made it through the special dino exhibit and raced to the Children's zoo just in time. I am super cheap! Anywho, I decided to unload lots of photos of Syl, her favorite people in the world (her cousins), Sophia, baby Dylan, and the animals in the zoo.

P.S. She wants to name her brother Lucy.

Broken Butts

Today, while sitting on her Dora potty:

Syl: "Mama, it's broken."

Me: "What is broken?"

Syl: "My bottom ... my butt is broken."

Me: "Really? Are you sure?"

Syl: long pause...."Oh, it works! Mama, it's not broken anymore."

Phew! Problem solved as quickly as it arose. Cuz one thing this mama can't fix is broken butts. Gotta call on some laxatives for that issue.