Children – Page 23 – My Truant Pen

Wrapping up the unwrapping

I have trouble finding online time when I need to take care of both boys (and not at work). Finding it while my parents were here and wacky hijinks were ensuing? Not so much.

To sum up:
*Christmas was really wonderful. I got an embarrassing proportion of the goodies.
*The after-Christmas clothes shopping was amazing. I got, uh, 4 really nice-looking sweaters (in a nice, washable fabric), 3 jeans that fit the me I am right now, a really nice skirt, a sporty (but cold) shirt, and three pairs of fun tights for much, much less money than you’d expect.
*I have now finally been to Cape Cod — all the way to P-town. I am happy to report that it’s cold. And windy.
*The living room has been repainted. It looks much better, but I’m no longer convinced it was the right color of cream. Also, the ceiling really needs to be redone, I think.
*And what goes better in a newly repainted living room than a SWEET big-screen tv, with a bonus $250 unexpected rebate due to my previous switch to Comcast? (FTW!)
*Thane is the sweetest, most kissable, best-sleeping baby in the world.
*Grey is like a barrel o’ monkeys — tons of fun with an astonishing amount of energy.
*I’m really a good cook. All the meals I made came out well, and I made a lot of tasty meals.
*I really like Avatar. It’s nice to have a tv show I’m enjoying watching with la famiglia.
*I will miss my family greatly. Sniff sniff. Imagine having to do my own dishes? And whole hours will pass without puns!
*On the other hand, it is sort of nice to have some quiet. That was in short supply with the number of adults extant more than doubled.

I’m a happy woman.

Parenting yin and yang

Item the first: I said that it was easier having a baby than buying a house. I think it is easier to own a house than to raise a child. (Although I admit that was totally ambiguous in what I wrote.)

Item the second: Last night was one of my worst parenting nights EVER. There’s that point when you’re not sure if you’re laughing or crying and you decide to laugh because if you cry then EVERYONE in the house will be crying. Basically, Thane has a bad 3 hours every evening where he mostly cries and Grey decided to check and see if I still meant what I said and was very sad to discover that, yes, I do. Grey didn’t get to sleep until nearly 10, at which point he had lost all three of his nightlights, his music and his flashlight and I was sitting outside his door holding it closed.

Item the third: Thane woke up every two hours last night, but was a lazy eater towards morning. What’s up with that? Also, so far he’s slept pretty much all day. A growth spurt?

Item the fourth: We had a fantastic time at the Museum of Science with J. this morning. Grey was very very good and Thane slept and I got to talk to a real live adult for more than 20 seconds. Nice.

Buying a house vs. having a baby

I have been thinking the last few weeks about what I was doing this time last year. In the middle of October, on the same day, I found out I was pregnant and the offer on our house was accepted. The pregnancy didn’t work out, but the house did. This time last year was a blur of packing, stress, moving, stress, arranging mortgages, stress and stress.

I’ve finally decided: buying a house is more stressful than having a baby. I’ve done both. I know.

I think the main reason that buying a house is more stressful is because the pressure is on to do it right. For example, you should go house hunting at the right time (which, well, at least we didn’t pick the worst time?). You should find the very best house that you can afford for all your needs. You should choose the correct community. You should check the commute and the location. You should divine what sort of maintenance the house will need. (Note: we offered on the house the same day we saw it. How was this all supposed to happen?) Find a real estate agent. Find a lawyer. Find a house inspector. Find contractors to bid on the work that needs to be done. You will need to liquidate a bunch of your savings — pray you have the luck and foresight to do so on a day the market is up. Get the best possible mortgage. Be sure you read the fine print. Run a budget to make sure you can afford it. Set up a savings account for the inevitable maintenance. Check your homeowner’s insurance. Are you on a flood plane? You better get the flood insurance. Hire movers. Pack boxes.

All of that stuff is completely overwhelming, at least to me. The thing that made it so bad was that it was possible for me to choose wrong or right. It was all about my choice and my agency, and the outcome was entirely my fault. But there was too much to do in a one month period (while working full time, of course) to do it all with the rigor each decision deserved. You sort of tossed your dice and trusted to luck. It worked out for us, I think, but I can see a million ways that it could’ve gone wrong.

Let’s compare that to a baby. First, have sex. Several weeks later, discover you are pregnant. Wait 9 months, slowly and gradually planning. Have a really rough few hours there giving birth. Stay out of work for a month or two or three, granted while you don’t get much sleep. It’s entirely possible that the child you have will have flaws (unlike mine), or disabilities or problems. But unless your child has fetal alcohol syndrome, chances are good that it was just the way luck turned. Nothing you decided would’ve made it different — you just take what you are given and work with it. That can be tons of work and it can be really hard, but you’re not RESPONSIBLE for the decision of what kind of baby to have. That’s rigorous but, to me, less stressful.

Even at the nadir of my parenting (Alone! For a week! With two kids! And one of them not even 6 weeks old!) I’d much rather do this than buy another house. I’ve always been completely gobsmacked by the people who casually mention, “Oh, we bought a house recently.” To me that’s like saying, “Oh, yes. I climbed Everest last week.”

I’m thinking I’m done with both. As far as children go, I have had as many as I plan to have. (At least now — I know this is the sort of statement that comes back to haunt you later.) As far as homes go, I have purchased the house I would like to inhabit until my children are through college. We probably will buy another house at some point, but heaven help me, that point better be far enough in the distant future to be misty.

Heck, kids are even cheaper than the house at this point!

Thane in his newly renovated room in our new house

The view from Thanes window — The view from Thane's window

Wow, this goes faster when you use TWO hands!

When last we left our heroine, she was tired. Shockingly, she is still tired.

Let us contemplate the news of the last few days:

I hate malls. I forget that I hate malls, though. I went to the mall last night and was totally skunked. I don’t get it… apparently gazillions of people are delighted to pay loads of cash for 25 different designer versions of what is basically the same sweater. But no one else in the entire world wants a decent selection of high quality (silver or crystal) Christmas ornaments. No. Everyone else wants plastic or that glass stuff which I personally loathe. And if they don’t want plastic or blown glass, they want ugly. Hrmph.
Thane really, truly manages to know when his brother is either asleep or not present and adjusts his sleep schedule accordingly.
We downloaded Super Mario Bros 3 to the Wii. Newsflash: I suck at it.
My brother. Oh, my poor brother. He reappeared late on Saturday night and joined us for church. After church, lunch and nap we bid him a fond farewell for a fortnight. Bye bye! Then last night, as I settled into the bath, the phone rang. (ring ring!) His clutch gave out on the Mass Pike at Sturbridge. Woes. Fortunately my parents had signed up for the Super Ooper Duper AAA package with 100 miles of free towing, so the car and the boy got here. At 4 am. I sent him off on the T this afternoon, not fully gruntled.
Grey went to daycare today. (I am short on patience — that’s good for none of us.) I had this huge list of things I was going to get done. I did do some good present shopping at Target and online. And I picked up the house and put away clothes. And started tonight’s dinner. And did the whole “console brother” thing. But Thane just wouldn’t sleep today, so the ordering of pictures and Christmas cardage have so far not happened, and I must pick up the eldest in an hour. I also had these fond dreams of going grocery shopping. Yeah… no.
“All the Werys of Pern” is clearly NOT the next book after “The White Dragon”. Does anyone know which one is? Is it “The Renegades of Pern”?
My husband is going to be in Nashville for a full week starting Saturday morning. I’m getting a head start on the dreading. Anyone who’s been wondering when I’ll need their support and love, pencil in that week. (I think Grey may go to daycare the whole week. Seriously, I have NO CLUE how single parents do it!)

Internet skills… getting rusty….

When you’re not making a post a day, you don’t feel like you can just update folks on the last 20 minutes of your life (not that I, uh, ever do that…) but you don’t feel really ready to tackle the last 20 days, either. It’s been a definite withdrawal for me to have so much less computer time, and even more importantly very little computer time with both my hands free. Writing a post with one hand is time consuming. (An element to my prolific writing is doubtless the 80 wpm I type. You can say more in less time when you type quickly.)

Let’s see. The defining element of my last few days has been OMG SO MANY GUESTS. Last weekend was a wonderful Mocksgiving. Then on Thursday my beloved Aunt and Uncle arrived in Boston for a big Bible conference thingy, and they stayed the night. This would be the Aunt who can cook amazingly, so of course I felt the need to prepare a decent meal. And of course all my free time was spent chatting with them, attempting to catch up on the last 7 years in one evening. Then last night my brother Gospel came. (I asked why he got off for Thanksgiving break so early. He reminded me that there happened to be a big Bible conference thingy going on and he was at seminary. Huh. Go figure.) Granted, Gospel is much more helpful than guestful. He even raked our lawn this afternoon in the bitter, bitter cold! But still… he’s here much of the week and my Aunt and Uncle reemerge from their conference on Monday night (another dinner). I don’t have much spare time, and that’s taken up what I have. Still, it’s entirely worthwhile.

It got cold here in New England. I’m not a fan of this. I feel like I can’t walk nearly as far; not because Grey can’t handle it but because it’s hard to properly bundle a wee baby. I’m also still struggling with walking with both boys. Problem one is that I have much less recourse if Grey decides to be recalcitrant, which definitely happens with a 3 year old. If I carry Thane in a sling, it’s just too much to also carry the diaper bag and with a potty training preschooler, that’s dangerous. (I can carry one or two baby diapers in the sling, but the diapers and a change of pants for Grey… well, that seems like a bit much.) I don’t like strollers, but I tried that and I discovered that it’s really hard to steer with one hand, making it hard to hold Grey’s hand when we cross streets, etc. And here’s the kicker — I can just about manage Grey and the stroller, but the coffee is too much. (Heck it’s also an extra hand I lack getting into the car.) Parenting is threatening my coffee supply. This is dire, people.

In boy news, Thane has already lost the newborn look and started in on the young baby look. His neck is unbelievably strong — he now holds it steady for quite a while. He still swims in his 0 – 3 month outfits, but has outgrown newborn diapers. I had actually remembered this, how in the course of a day a diaper size goes from ok to way too small. And if you try to make do with the too small diapers to use up the rest of them, you find yourself changing a lot of outfits. Thane really, really likes to be held and wants to be held almost all day. This seems entirely appropriate for a new baby, but it a bit hard to manage sometimes. When he’s feeling fussy, he really likes to be on his belly. In the big Thane-news, he rolled over twice this week. Both times it was from front to back, but still. Rolling over at 3 weeks? I would be more excited about this if I didn’t realize that physically precocious children are a lot of work.

Grey is wonderful. He has been telling us stories lately. “Once upon a time there was a boy named Grey.” He will do nearly anything if you apply pretend reverse psychology. “Grey, I do not want you peeing in that potty!” On the one hand, it’s nice to have something that works so reliably. On the other hand, I’m worried that I’m making trouble for myself. I try to use a very silly voice when I do this, but perhaps it’s not smart of us. Speaking of peeing in the potty training, it’s going slowly. The length of time between when he goes seems to have lengthened, but he still won’t initiate going to the potty and it’s often like pulling teeth to get him to go. I confess to feeling disheartened. On the other hand, he’s been wonderfully affectionate and cuddly with the cold weather. He has grown increasingly sensitive to the emotions of others. “Mommy, are you sad, happy or angry?” he’ll ask. What he’s really asking is “Am I all right with you?” He is also attuned to his brother’s emotions. He’ll come find me if Thane is crying. Sometimes he tries to make faces to cheer up the weeping babe. Sometimes, annoyed, he’ll tell Thane to “Be quiet!” In the amusing anecdote department, Grey calls letters emails. I wonder if they’ll still have letters when he’s my age. Generally, though, he’s been pretty fantastic.

The smallest one stirs. I go.

The trick to being nocturnal

Thane wakes up at about 9 pm. He’s five days old, so it’s hard to say “every night” but this has been true for the last three nights — or more than half his life. He then proceeds to spend the next 10 or so hours awake and *fussy*. Awake is not bad. But last night, I couldn’t get him to be happy unless my boobs were in his mouth.

The first night was miserable. The second night wasn’t fun at all. Last night we planned for him not to sleep, and acted accordingly. Instead of trying to lay him in his crib and sneak back to bed, only the be pulled back out of it just as I was snuggling under the covers, I took him downstairs and watched Dirty Jobs and Black Adder. I took a double shift — from 10 – 2. My MIL took the next shift (2 until about 4 — which last night was three hours). A. took the final shift. Of course, I nursed Thane at every “shift change”. I thought it worked well. I think I’ll watch Stardust tonight.

My boobs are terribly sore — the left one in particular is rather cracked and bleedy. I think Thane is latching fine now, but they took damage early on. And let’s be honest, nursing for basically four hours straight isn’t going to do them any favors.

Thane sleeps through the day. Sub-optimal. It will be fine as long as they’re three of us who can pull these shifts, but if I don’t get him at least partially diurnal before my inlaws leave and my husband goes back to work, I’m in deep doo-doo.

Other than that, things are going well! Grey is still having trouble, but he is often a joy. The other times he’s a fit-throwing melty-boy. A. and Grey went to church this morning. My inlaws are a big help. (I really do have a great relationship with them — I know how lucky I am!) I’m feeling almost completely healed. It’s amazing how much better, stronger, more flexible I feel than I did a week ago!

Photographic evidence of a second son

I was less ruthless than normal in my weeding out process, in part because I’m short on time and in part because… well, what the heck. He’s a beautiful kid and so is his big brother!

(Note that you can click on the image to see a higher resolution/larger version of the picture.)

http://tiltedworld.com/brenda/pictures/ThaneBorn/index.html

We’re home now and doing really, really well. At least, until I have to pull a second night like last night!

Fun with false labor

So last night I was experiencing pain, as though all my muscles had knotted up and I was short of breath and a little panicky, and the pain seemed to be coming on a regular basis. Yeah, the first 7 innings or so of the Red Sox game downright hurt.

Oh, and I was having strong contractions that seemed, at least for a while, to be coming in five minute intervals.

When I was pregnant the first time around, this wouldn’t have caused much angst. I was in labor or I wasn’t. Time would tell. Maybe we’d have gone for a walk to see if exercise would solidify the contractions or diminish them. Maybe I’d just take a hot shower, pack the bag and go to bed, and see what I felt like in the morning.

But the second time around, there’s an additional complication. Yes, the product of the FIRST pregnancy needs to have a grownup around at all times. (Funny how that works.) So the question of whether I was in labor or not took on added importance. Did we need to call backup or not? I texted a friend in the middle of a date to let him know that he was on call. I watched Dice-K give up another homer. I attempted to watch the baseball game, gchat with my mom, text message with my friend, read some blogs, check the contents of my hospital bag and have my husband read to me about the difference between false labor and real labor simultaneously.

I felt slightly distracted and as though I had difficult focusing. Clearly, it was labor.

My frenetecism was rewarded. My mom told me that my baby brother was actually on his was New Englandward a day earlier than I thought he was going to be. I called him and asked him to please come spend the night in our house just in case. The great thing about family is that you can inconvenience them and only feel a little badly about it. A few more contractions while I showered, two more runs given up by Papelbon, and I was ready for bed. I figured that the Sox season was over, and that even if my labor progressed while I slept my son would be taken care of.

That was, of course, just the wrong time to turn off the Sox game. But it wasn’t labor. It was just practice. I’m really, really, really hoping that I don’t have too many more ambiguous labor-like periods, or my friends’ love-lives may seriously suffer from ill-timed text messages. But hey, at least I’ll have one more Sox game this season.

On another note, I uploaded all my latest pictures a week or two ago, and got stymied at a near-final step and never got around to, you know, letting people know. So here, a few weeks late, are some pictures, including my birthday, my husband’s surprise concert for me, some apple picking, and Grey playing with Jefferson.

http://tiltedworld.com/brenda/pictures/October08/

Fun and busy

We had a very busy weekend. Very busy.

By the time Monday morning rolls around, I rarely remember what I did on Friday. I believe it involved the Red Sox and a playoff game. Oh, and decorating a Patrick cake. And wrapping all Grey’s presents.

Saturday morning as A. took Grey to his dance class, I drove to iParty to procure balloons. I came home and decorated with balloons and streamers and Spongebob-themed partyware. I got done a little early and sat on my front porch and watched the wild turkeys mutually menacing the neighbor’s cat and enjoyed a truly lovely fall day. Then all everyone appeared all at once.

Grey had Jefferson and N. (a girl from church), and their respective parents. The kids played together pretty well — although the difference between boy-personalities and girl-personalities was marked. Grey got a balloon that sings an incredibly obnoxious version of “Happy Birthday” when you hit it. (Who’s brilliant idea was that? Oh yeah… mine.) So Grey and Jefferson were happily hitting each other over the head with balloons and giggling furiously. N. was terrified. The kids played together for a bit while we grownups sat on the couch and gossiped. Then there was happy-birthday-singing, followed by candle-blowing-out and cake-eating. (Two years olds can be surprisingly reticent to eat cake.) This was followed by present-opening. I was impressed that the other two kids didn’t try to open the presents themselves. This is a hard part of other people’s birthdays. Then the party was over and the diapers were full and the kids were cranky and it was time to go home. Perfect. The presents all seemed to be a big hit and Grey got down to the serious work of playing with them.

Then A. worked on caulking the windows in the living room while I planted bulbs and mowed the lawns and Grey failed to take a nap.

When the yardwork/home maintenance/nap failure was complete, we headed to a friends’ house for a game and socialization. I hooked Grey up with Baby’s First Princess Bride Viewing. (Not surprisingly he liked the sword fight.) I got to spend time with some neat folks I rarely get to see and ooh and ah over how much their kids have grown. (Well, one is so new he hasn’t really grown, but I got to nuzzle fuzzy-baby-head which really… no complaints there.) Grey got McDonald’s for his birthday dinner, which delighted him greatly. (Easy to please.) And we got home just in time to pour him into bed and for me to watch the first six innings of the game. (I’m glad I stopped before it got too depressing.)

Sunday! I took Grey to church sola so that A. could do more window-caulking. Every other week Grey is terrific/terrible at church. This was the week for terrific. During the word for children he announced that he he was three years old and had his birthday. Perhaps I should keep a log of information he volunteers during word for children. He ran happily and fearlessly to his Sunday School class. He ate about 80000 oreos after church. He played on the playground. He remembered the signs for “I love God” and melted his father’s and my hearts by doing them so nicely.

We went to Macaroni Grill for lunch. I have to admit that I’m a sucker for their dessert ravioli. Then we went to meet up with the same friends we rarely see from the previous day at Kimball’s Farms. I had been under the impression that this was, you know, a farm. Ha. It was actually an amusement park with goats. The weather was spectacular and delightful, but my back was not spectacular and delightful, so I let my husband Grey-wrangle while I sat on a bench and read a mystery novel. Apparently, Grey is surprisingly good at mini golf. Also, never trust the millionaire philanthropist. We had a lovely, leisurely time there with neat people, and headed home as night began to fall.

To no one’s surprise, Grey fell asleep on the drive home. Unfortunately, he sort of woke up when we got home. He asked for bread. Surmising he was hungry, A. fed him two eggs and put him back to bed. He told me he was hungry. We fed him two more eggs, a piece of toast and a serving of apple sauce. Really — he’s not that physically large. 4 eggs, a slice of buttered toast and apple sauce? That’s like half his body-weight, but he totally packed it away.

It was a really, really nice weekend. There was no laundry done (let us not speak of my hobo-like appearance at this juncture — I think yoga pants with a hoodie sweatshirt are COMPLETELY appropriate office wear). There was no grocery shopping. (Milk? Who needs milk?) But there was joy and sunshine and leaves and “bungy balls” and birthdays and cake and friends. I’ll take it.

When did he learn how to unwrap presents?

We are not after your spicy brains. Trust us. — We may not be potty trained, but we can totally beat you in Super Mario Bros.

My life of leisure

This morning started out with Grey’s 3 year well-child checkup. I remember when I used to send emails about his 6 week checkup etc. they were full of data! And information! But 3 years? Grey is developmentally fine. His height and weight are fine. He has lots of ear wax. We should probably make with the potty-training.

The big news, I guess, was that Grey got his flu shot. I asked if I could have one too. Grey’s pediatrician has a low opinion of grownup-doctors. “Why didn’t your midwife give you one?” “They don’t have any?” “What about your primary care doctor?” “They wouldn’t give me one until after my due date.” “Well, I can’t give you ours because they’re formulated for kids, and you are not a kid. [insert rant on how grownup doctors don’t plan ahead].” Frankly, I think he’s entirely right. I can’t believe my OB/GYN office didn’t order at least SOME vaccine for their patients who are, you know, pretty much universally supposed to ge flu shots.

Then I dropped A. off at home, Grey off at daycare and bought several small sundry things (like the hardware to hang the light-blocking shades) that were needful.

I arrived at the ultrasound clinic a little early and turned off the tv, since I was the only patient in the waiting room. It took the staff less than 2 minutes to realize the tv was off and attempt to turn it back on. When I rule the world, we will have a constitutional right to not have to be exposed to daytime television involving quiz shows that ask questions like “What color is Pokemon?”

The ultrasound tech was new, at least to the organization. One room, two pregnancies, three ultrasound techs. But she was good — I liked her.

You will be shocked, SHOCKED to hear that everything is JUST FINE. The facts:
* The baby appears to be about 5 lbs 11 oz. Note: ultrasounds are off by as much as a pound. But even at 4 lbs 11 oz a baby with 2.5 weeks to go will likely squeak over the 5 lb worry threshhold. And he’s very likely over that threshhold already.
* The baby has hair
* He is definitely, for sure, fourth confirming ultrasound a he.
* He is also opposed to letting people get the measurements they want in ultrasounds with him.
* His head is really, really, really low. Really low. She almost couldn’t measure his head because it was blocked by my pelvis.
* His heartbeat was perfectly fine
* He has plenty of amniotic fluid.
* My cervix does not look like it’s letting its occupant out anytime soon.
* He is a squirmy little bugger

THEN I went to Walgreens where the guy in front of me in line was saying how his roommate stole his prescription and he’d heard some horrible people abused these sorts of drugs and you know he might DIE if he didn’t get more of this stuff and have seizures but it didn’t matter because he had cancer so he was going to die soon anyway and his doctor was out of town and unavailable to call and couldn’t she just fill his prescription? Did he mention he might die without it?

I was impressed with how the pharmacist handled the situation.

And I finally got my flu shot.
Midwife: 0
PCP: 0
Pediatrician: 0
Walgreens: 1

They even remembered I had called and had things ready to go for me.

And finally, home. 6 hours after I left in the morning.