Where do I even begin? Probably the beginning.
James:
I knew two years ago, when bragging to a friend, that you sleep like the dead, that I would one day pay for it. The day has arrived. You fight bedtime like it's the plague, and we have gotten ourselves into a terrible routine. You don't like going to bed. You don't like your room. You want to sleep with mom and dad (NO!). You need another drink of water. You're hungry. You have to poop (which you always seem to announce LOUDLY). It is never ending. We have tried stickers, reward programs, letting you stay up later, and everything you could possibly think of to bribe you. Nothing. Nada. You refuse to go to bed at a decent time. Then, some days, you are so tired we can't keep you awake, so you take a nap. It doesn't matter if it's 10 minutes or an hour, if you nap, you are up until the wee hours of the night. Which is hard on mom. If I had my way, I would go to bed when Drew does at 8 or 9. But nope, 10:00 p.m. rolls around and you are still awake. I have tried cutting out sugar, reading more, letting you watch a movie on your tablet. Finally, after wracking my brain, I thought that maybe you have some sort of weird separation anxiety. So like any reasonable, responsible adult, I googled the shit out of it (my M.O. don't forget), and low and behold, I guess it's a thing. And it started to happen right before Drew got here. I am hoping you will grow out of it, but every night, it's a battle. Most nights, we just wait until you pass out wherever you decide and then move you to your bed. It has been as soon as only a couple of hours later, and you're in our bed with us. It drives me nuts, because I will also pull Drew into bed with me in the wee hours of the night to nurse laying down, so I can at least REST, and all of a sudden there are four people in our king-size bed. Drives. Me. Crazy. I really hope this doesn't last, and I am really hoping that summer will take care of it when the "big kids" are at daycare with you. Ugh.
Otherwise, you are a picky eater (compared to Catherine, who LOVES steak and pork chops - weird!) and you're very smart. You pick up on things quickly and use that to your advantage as much as possible. You hear popcorn popping at 9:30 because breastfeeding mommy is hungry? Down the stairs you come, ready to tell me you happen to be hungry.
I am trying not to be a hardass for a parent, but at the same time, I am definitely a hard ass. I don't take shit, and it breaks my heart when I tell him he needs to go to his room. He will say things like, "You are not being nice to me, mom!" You're right. I'm not being nice to you, son. Because it's my responsibility as your mother to make sure you don't grow up to be stupid. So, if I have to be mean this one time (or multiple times), then so be it. But on the other hand, when we shut his door to put him in time out in his room, he freaks out. I mean, FREAKS out. Screams about monsters and how he's scared. I honestly think he's afraid that we won't come back to get him, or something. It's rather bizarre. The other night, he climbed into bed with us while nursing Drew (pretty sure Drew's crying woke him up) and he told me he had a dream that he was on a school bus with the "big kids" and the school bus made him get off and then he couldn't find his way home. And while he's telling me this, he honest-to-God started crying. At 2:30 a.m. I was crushed. I felt so terrible for him! So I really believe there is some sort of fear there that we are going to leave and not come back. Once Drew and Catherine go to bed, James is on me like a fat kid on cake. He will not let me out of his sight. If I go downstairs to get something to drink and happen to take too long talking to Eric, he will come down adn find me and tell me he was worried because he didn't know where I was. So I think there's something there, but I really don't know what to do except let it run it's course.
Catherine:
Oh my, little girl, it has been a wild ride the past few weeks. We had your MRI, plus your allergy appointment. It was terrible to see them put you under for the MRI, but I am glad we got it done. Turns out, you have fluid in your inner ear (I was right, you asshole ENT doctor!). Why? Because of allergies, which we found out you have. But not environmental allergies, like we thought. You are allergic to... *drum roll* fucking bananas. Seriously? Milk and bananas, the two things you have at daycare EVERY DAY. We took milk out of your diet, but since it's such a low class, the allergist suggested just regular milk, cheese, milk based products like sour cream, but if it has milk baked into it, like cake or something else I cannot think of right now, you should be ok. Then we find out you're allergic to BANANAS? Again, seriously? I could not believe it. And what's even funnier is that you chow down bananas like they are going out of style. So obviously, we are no longer giving you bananas. Your runny noses are gone and the allergist said the fluid from her inner ear is most likely gone as well. You are honestly a very different little girl, even from a week ago. It finally seems like you are happy.
We have been working with the speech pathologist - she is more or less training us than she is working with Catherine. You can now make duck noises, pant like a dog (which is hilarious) say yes, mom and dad, and you have several noises for objects, but no actual words. But it's a start. I am excited to see how this summer goes.
Today was your second birthday. You weren't too excited about your gifts, but you LOVED your cake! And even though James blew out your candles, you seemed to really enjoy being sung to. You are so, SO sweet and love being a "mom." You have your babies that you carry with you everywhere, and you love pushing your little stroller around, putting them in it and throwing them to the ground a few feet later. You love helping me with Drew, including finding his pacifier and blanket any time I am holding him. You are SUCH a lover and you have the biggest heart.
You are starting to run, which looks more like a linebacker than a little girl, but you love to run around with James. You also love to play with the "big kids" but of course, it's difficult for you to keep up. They love playing with you (until you get tired and whiny!) and you love the attention. You could be pushed around in a stroller or pulled in a wagon ALL DAY LONG. You just sit like a little queen and enjoy the attention from everyone.
You are still small, still wearing 18 month clothes, but you are growing. We are moving forward, and from a year ago, that's huge.
Drew:
I just updated everyone (no one?) on your 3 months, but I can't believe how much you have changed in the course of these 3.5 months. Sunday night was a nightmare and I happened to see every hour on the clock. It was tough, and the next night was almost as bad, but Tuesday into Wednesday, you let me sleep for about 5 hours, which I so appreciated. I felt like a new person on Wednesday! You love cluster feeding at night, which kills me, but I deal with it. By about 9:00 p.m. I am touched out. Which is difficult because that's when James is getting REALLY clingy, and I can hardly handle it. Eric has been fairly good about things though, which is helpful. Sometimes I have to remind him that I can't do it all and he can't just let me do it all, but every once in awhile, he surprises me, and for that, I am thankful. Like tonight. I am blogging while you, Drew-boo, are downstairs, asleep in Eric's arms because while I was in the shower, you started crying. It seems like my one 20 minute shower every night is the only time I can get away. Which brings me to my next header...
Touched. Out.
I told Eric tonight I would like to go 10 minutes without someone needing something from me. Tonight, when we were packing up to go get our new couch (yay! new furniture!), I told Eric I was going to park in the street so he could easily back up the driveway to unload our couch. He said, "You should park behind the trailer." No. I don't want to fucking park behind the trailer. I want to park in the fucking street. I hate parking behind the trailer. I have to get out in the grass, and then the next morning, I have to walk through wet grass, with nice shoes, just to get into my car. And my car sticks out into the sidewalk, so it's hard to see the kids when they are running from one house to the next with the neighbors. So no. I don't need you telling me where to park my damn car! My dad used to do that too, and it would drive me nuts. "You should......" NO. I shouldn't do anything you want me to! I didn't ask for your damn suggestion! Overall, I just want people to not need something from me, or tell me what to do, for like, 10 fucking minutes. I just need 10. fucking. minutes. Ugh!
Mobility Yoga and PT Graduation
I had to skip last week's mobility yoga because something happened (not sure what, I can't remember back that far) and I couldn't make it. Ahh, yes. I forgot my damn milk at school, in a cooler without an ice pack. So I had to go back for it. Damnit! So I missed my second yoga class, but was able to go this past Monday. It was awesome. After a night from hell with Drew, a day from hell at school, I honestly did not want to go. But I am so glad I did. I'm not really into that whole namaste shit, but it was awesome to stretch my body and feel good while doing it. Then I had physical therapy on Wednesday and tadaaa! I graduated! I can officially feel my leg! And my foot! Although as I sit right now on this bed, it's tingling, but I'm sure it has to do with the fact that I'm sitting poorly. But seriously. I finally feel like I can walk normally, although it still takes a bit to get going from the sitting position, but I feel much more limber. I am going to look into yoga classes for the summer.
Battle of the Bulge
I am still at the weight I was when I blogged the last time after having the flu. Which is not a huge deal, since I figured I would bounce back up a bit after I started eating. But honestly, I am about 14 pounds from where I want to be, and that's pretty good. I still hate how I look and dressing this body is difficult, but I can honestly say I am starting to really tell a difference between the same clothes that were once pretty tight to now where they fit me snugly. Especially my nursing tops that I got right after I gave birth. Those are getting fairly loose, to the point where they shift in the middle of the night and I leak all over. It's awesome. So I've pulled out some of my old ones from post-Catherine and they are still a little tight, but better that than too big!
The Kitchen
Our kitchen backsplash came in, and I am excited for Eric to start putting it up. I can't believe we actually found one we both liked, but we also talked with a designer who led us away from glass tile and to natural stone back splash. And BOOM, that was it. Also, Eric got a huge discount for being a contractor and working out some deal that he would have his clients now pick their stone from this particular place. So I guess there are perks to having a home that is never finished: a contractor-husband who can get you good deals. All in all, we have done our kitchen remodel for about $8000 and our bathroom remodel for about $2000. Considering Eric would charge anywhere from $40-50,000 for our kitchen remodel in someone else's home, I think it's safe to say we are definitely ahead. It's nice to have almost 50% equity in a home. And once again, we are doing it all on our own. Buying a "fixer-upper" was the smartest thing we could have done for ourselves.
So that's it. Life is constantly moving, and I am always feeling like there truly aren't enough hours in a day, but summer is almost here, and life will slow down a bit. And for that, I am thankful!
Friday, May 20, 2016
Wednesday, May 4, 2016
3 Months!
My little boo-boo is already 3 months old!!!
You LOVE to smile, especially in the mornings, which always makes me sad since we are always in a rush to get the three of you dressed and out the door. You love hanging out with James and Catherine, and they absolutely adore you. I may have been incredibly upset when I found out I was pregnant with you, but I have to say you have fell right into this chaos and made yourself our blessing.
You are cooing and every once in awhile, I hear something that resembles a laugh. It's so similar to Catherine's when she was that age too. It's adorable.
I think you have stopped liking your Rock-n-play to sleep. Last night, while I was puking, I fed you and left you on the bed where you promptly fell asleep. So tonight, I think we might try putting you in the pack-n-play. Although, I'm not sure where we might put the pack-n-play, but hopefully it fits right in between my bed and the window. It will be annoying, but we don't have much of a choice. Hopefully tonight, your dad and I can figure out a better arrangement for you, especially since you'er only waking once to nurse.
Breastfeeding is going better than I could imagine. I pump anywhere from an ounce or two to a whole bottle more than what you eat at daycare, so I have quite a stash already saved up. I will be thankful when summer gets here and I no longer have to pump for three months. Thank God! I believe you reverse cycle quite a bit where you eat the majority of your food at night, but I don't mind. You nurse about every two hours until you fall asleep at 8:00-8:30 and then you wake up about 2 or 3 to nurse and you go right back to bed.
You are such an easy baby, for which I am so grateful. You are such a blessing to our family and I am so glad you are here, baby boy.
You LOVE to smile, especially in the mornings, which always makes me sad since we are always in a rush to get the three of you dressed and out the door. You love hanging out with James and Catherine, and they absolutely adore you. I may have been incredibly upset when I found out I was pregnant with you, but I have to say you have fell right into this chaos and made yourself our blessing.
You are cooing and every once in awhile, I hear something that resembles a laugh. It's so similar to Catherine's when she was that age too. It's adorable.
I think you have stopped liking your Rock-n-play to sleep. Last night, while I was puking, I fed you and left you on the bed where you promptly fell asleep. So tonight, I think we might try putting you in the pack-n-play. Although, I'm not sure where we might put the pack-n-play, but hopefully it fits right in between my bed and the window. It will be annoying, but we don't have much of a choice. Hopefully tonight, your dad and I can figure out a better arrangement for you, especially since you'er only waking once to nurse.
Breastfeeding is going better than I could imagine. I pump anywhere from an ounce or two to a whole bottle more than what you eat at daycare, so I have quite a stash already saved up. I will be thankful when summer gets here and I no longer have to pump for three months. Thank God! I believe you reverse cycle quite a bit where you eat the majority of your food at night, but I don't mind. You nurse about every two hours until you fall asleep at 8:00-8:30 and then you wake up about 2 or 3 to nurse and you go right back to bed.
You are such an easy baby, for which I am so grateful. You are such a blessing to our family and I am so glad you are here, baby boy.
Battle of the Bulge, Part III: 12 Weeks
Nothing helps you lose weight like having the flu.
I steadily puked my guts out last night, WHILE watching a 3 month old and a 2 year old, last night and into the early morning hours. Complete with a fever, chills and every ugly thing you can imagine that accompanies the flu. I think the most impressive part of it was that I was so determined to NOT dehydrate, and therefore lose my milk supply, that I drank a shit ton of water. Only to puke it back up a little later. It was pretty epic. Also epic? My bad ass parenting skills while Eric took James to his wee ball game. Somehow, I kept Catherine entertained, nursed Drew, and puked so hard I had to jump in the shower to rinse off. Pretty amazing that I survived, as I thought for sure I was going to die at about 3 a.m. But here I am, on the other side, having survived. Maybe that's the definition of a supermom.
So here I am, about 13 pounds from my goal. The hardest part about all of this has been trying to squeeze myself into clothes that were made for someone who weighs about 13 pounds less. I had a concert Monday night, and I put myself into my concert dress, but still felt like a fat pig. Eric thinks I have body dysmorphia, but I call it realism.
But I have to be honest, I am pretty proud that I have lost at least 10 pounds on my own since I started this journey 6 weeks ago. That's pretty stellar, but it also helps that I am breastfeeding. So I am down four more pounds thanks to the flu. It's been interesting to see how slowly the weight comes off, but at the same time, it has come off so quickly. I just started this journey.
I have signed up for "mobility yoga" through Des Moines University. Pretty much, it's yoga designed for people coming back from "injuries." I would consider having three huge babies in the span of four years injurious. I am doing all my exercises regularly (planks, clams, "superstars" and some stretches that throw me back to sophomore volleyball), but I am still having issues with my hips and not being able to feel my left leg/foot. After laying in bed all night last night and puking my guts out, and my back is killing me. In fact, I am having issues just walking around today. It sucks. A lot. But I will continue with my exercises, start my mobility yoga and hopefully, things will get better.
Otherwise, we are moving onward. Here's to week 12, down 38 pounds since I walked into the hospital to have Drew at 39 weeks and 6 days!
Thursday, April 14, 2016
Keep Fighting the Good Fight
Today has been a pretty emotional day. Partially exciting, because we figured out that Catherine most likely doesn't have any mental deficiencies. Rather, something else is going on in her environement that is not allowing her to be able to communicate. The devastating part came at the ENT clinic.
We had Catherine's AEA evaluation, which wasn't terrible. It was very productive and I felt like Mindy, our caseworker, did a very good job of not necessarily leading us in one direction or another, but letting us process the questions and answer them effectively and at our own pace. It was determined that although Catherine is lower on the "charts," she still falls within the range of "normal." Mostly, the things that caused her to be "lower" were due to her height. No, she can't turn a door handle, because she's not tall enough. But she can manipulate a levered door handle and open the door. Just not a knob. So we know she understands the function of it, she just can't get her little hands around a door knob. She can't even hold a sippy cup without using two hands. She's just little. Her social/emotional scores were very high, meaning she has a deep understanding of other people, and she is very intuitive of other people's feelings. Sounds like her dear old mom. The only place where she was below the charts was, surprise surprise, her communication skills. Especially her expressive communication skills.
So we will begin work with a speech pathologist from the AEA. Not only that, but we have our speech evaluation with Childserve next Wednesday as well. I am not sure if they would frown on working with two different speech pathologists, but that's what I'm going to do.
From there, we went to the ENT Clinic, and immediately had a hearing test. I was surprised when the hearing test came back just fine. Not sure what the readout that the doctor gave me said exactly, but there was a "passed" for both ears, so I assume that she can hear just fine.
Then the doctor came in. He started harping on her ear infections and told me that I would know better than a doctor if she had an ear infection. He started to describe it, and I told him I realized what it was as we have already experienced it. Here are some of the things he said to us when we expressed our concerns regarding Catherine's balance, hearing, and the fact that she clearly doesn't feel good 60% of the time. Only when we are giving her ear drops and medicine like Motrin does she feel better.
"What balance issues? She seems to be walking just fine around here."
"Honestly, take her out of daycare. I know that's hard to hear, but that's the issue that I find in almost all the children that I see."
"Yeah, we can run several more tests, but I'm telling you, it's not the ears."
"Allergies are very rare in children under 3."
"Her chronic runny nose is probably just a virus."
I wanted to punch that guy in the throat. I was devastated to find out her hearing is "fine." I was more devastated to have this doctor tell me that she is "fine." He was a dick and I ended up leaving the appointment crying. I am thankful that Eric came with me and was able to see that clearly, this guy was a dick as well. I was even more grateful when Eric spoke up and said, "Is there more we can do for her?"
He replied that it's definitely not the ears and to "find a new pediatrician."
Are you fucking kidding me? Luckily, last week I called our pediatrician to get a referral to an allergist. I have heard that sometimes allergies in small children can be pretty devastating to their development, particularly communicative skills. They seemed very hesitant (just like they were when I asked for a referral to an allergist because I thought James was allergic to eggs and guess what - MOM GUT WINS AGAIN), but it's understandable, because I am sure they don't want to make a referral for some crazy mom who is demanding it. So I finally heard back from them this morning, and luckily, we have had three kids in four years, so just with well-child checks alone, I have seen our pediatrician at least once every two months. So she knows me, and our family. We have a referral to an allergist and we also have a referral to see a general pediatrician downtown. We are just waiting to hear back from our original pediatrician about when those appointments are.
So all-in-all, a day that maybe deserves a glass of wine at... 2:15 p.m.
But like Christy, our daycare provider said to me, after we dropped Catherine back off: Keep fighting the good fight.
I guess that's all we can do at this point.
We had Catherine's AEA evaluation, which wasn't terrible. It was very productive and I felt like Mindy, our caseworker, did a very good job of not necessarily leading us in one direction or another, but letting us process the questions and answer them effectively and at our own pace. It was determined that although Catherine is lower on the "charts," she still falls within the range of "normal." Mostly, the things that caused her to be "lower" were due to her height. No, she can't turn a door handle, because she's not tall enough. But she can manipulate a levered door handle and open the door. Just not a knob. So we know she understands the function of it, she just can't get her little hands around a door knob. She can't even hold a sippy cup without using two hands. She's just little. Her social/emotional scores were very high, meaning she has a deep understanding of other people, and she is very intuitive of other people's feelings. Sounds like her dear old mom. The only place where she was below the charts was, surprise surprise, her communication skills. Especially her expressive communication skills.
So we will begin work with a speech pathologist from the AEA. Not only that, but we have our speech evaluation with Childserve next Wednesday as well. I am not sure if they would frown on working with two different speech pathologists, but that's what I'm going to do.
From there, we went to the ENT Clinic, and immediately had a hearing test. I was surprised when the hearing test came back just fine. Not sure what the readout that the doctor gave me said exactly, but there was a "passed" for both ears, so I assume that she can hear just fine.
Then the doctor came in. He started harping on her ear infections and told me that I would know better than a doctor if she had an ear infection. He started to describe it, and I told him I realized what it was as we have already experienced it. Here are some of the things he said to us when we expressed our concerns regarding Catherine's balance, hearing, and the fact that she clearly doesn't feel good 60% of the time. Only when we are giving her ear drops and medicine like Motrin does she feel better.
"What balance issues? She seems to be walking just fine around here."
"Honestly, take her out of daycare. I know that's hard to hear, but that's the issue that I find in almost all the children that I see."
"Yeah, we can run several more tests, but I'm telling you, it's not the ears."
"Allergies are very rare in children under 3."
"Her chronic runny nose is probably just a virus."
I wanted to punch that guy in the throat. I was devastated to find out her hearing is "fine." I was more devastated to have this doctor tell me that she is "fine." He was a dick and I ended up leaving the appointment crying. I am thankful that Eric came with me and was able to see that clearly, this guy was a dick as well. I was even more grateful when Eric spoke up and said, "Is there more we can do for her?"
He replied that it's definitely not the ears and to "find a new pediatrician."
Are you fucking kidding me? Luckily, last week I called our pediatrician to get a referral to an allergist. I have heard that sometimes allergies in small children can be pretty devastating to their development, particularly communicative skills. They seemed very hesitant (just like they were when I asked for a referral to an allergist because I thought James was allergic to eggs and guess what - MOM GUT WINS AGAIN), but it's understandable, because I am sure they don't want to make a referral for some crazy mom who is demanding it. So I finally heard back from them this morning, and luckily, we have had three kids in four years, so just with well-child checks alone, I have seen our pediatrician at least once every two months. So she knows me, and our family. We have a referral to an allergist and we also have a referral to see a general pediatrician downtown. We are just waiting to hear back from our original pediatrician about when those appointments are.
So all-in-all, a day that maybe deserves a glass of wine at... 2:15 p.m.
But like Christy, our daycare provider said to me, after we dropped Catherine back off: Keep fighting the good fight.
I guess that's all we can do at this point.
Sunday, April 10, 2016
The Battle of the Bulge: Part 3, Week 9.5 and a Family Update
The Battle of the Bulge
I'm not really sure where to start, so I guess I'll just follow the title of the post.
The Battle of the Bulge has been difficult. It's definitely the hardest it has been of all my pregnancies. Probably because I'm older and just a little bit more decrepit. I know going back to work has helped because I don't sit around all day, nursing a baby and baking stuff to eat while sitting and nursing a baby. I don't have the time, neither, to eat how I used to, so I am happy to say that in the 2.5 weeks I have started this terrible journey, I am down 5 pounds. Wahoo! And maybe, just maybe, tomorrow will take me to 6.
In all, keeping track of my weight every day (yep, every day. Obsessed much?), I have definitely seen a trend. I'll drop a couple of pounds, then gain back a half pound, then drop a couple more, then gain back. Maybe that's my metabolism ramping up after hibernating for, ummmm, 11 months or so. We shall see.
All in all, I'm happy with the progress, I just wish it were happening faster. However, I also understand that several things go into this: getting your metabolism to do what you need it to do, actually watching what you eat and even more important, not cutting so much that it will cause me to lose my milk supply. Which makes a good segue...
...and on that farm she had some milk...
Thanks to my trusty lactation cookies, my first week back to work was full of milk. Although I have to pump about every three hours, which sucks, I am getting milk out so much faster and only really have to pump about 10 minutes. Which is AWESOME. With Catherine, it seemed like it was a constant struggle and I would have to pump 20-25 minutes just to get enough for a bottle. With Drew, I am pumping an extra bottle a day, which obviously, I am freezing. I have no idea how that has happened, but the lactation consultant I went to see (what can I say? That mommy time is solid and I love talking with other moms) said that since I stopped breastfeeding, oh, A YEAR AGO, that my body is probably used to making milk.
It seems that my milk, however, gives Drew some horrible gas. I feel bad for him, as he struggles with it almost every day. And it's stinks! Holy hell!
BUT, he also eats a ton and is difficult to burp, much like my other kids. I still fully maintain that he overeats and spits the rest up. It's not typical spit-up that comes out, it's like the milk went down and comes right back up. But he seems to love comfort nursing, I just happen to have too much milk for him and he keeps getting too full. Which is another great segue...
Drew Michael
You had your two month check up, and you are a healthy 13 pounds. You are big and strong and LOVE your siblings. You love to smile and laugh and play on the floor. I was worried about my first week back - after the nightmare that was Catherine, I was hoping that we didn't go down the same path in regard to daycare not understanding the "structure" of bottle feeding breast milk, but we are doing great and it's awesome. Hooray!
Speaking of Catherine...
Catherine Lynn
*Sigh* I don't think the tubes are working and to be quite frank, I really think there is something else going on. I had a pity-party one day where I cried, thinking about how you aren't developing "normally." I was upset, sad, angry and worried about your future. I sat around wishing I would have done something different when you were first born.
After my 12 hour pity-party, I was like a dog with a bone. I have been on the phone with several agencies and have made sure that people are listening. We have an evaluation by the Area Education Agency on Thursday. Our physical therapist for Catherine has put in for an evaluation for an Occupational Therapist as well as a Speech Therapist. There are a myriad of things that are not going well for you, but at the end of the day, it's the fact that in one month since getting tubes, you've had two ear infections, and you have terrible balance. I mean, terrible. As far as mom-gut goes, I feel like there is something more going on with your ears. After your AEA evaluation, we have a follow-up at the ENT, and you can believe that I will be telling them that we're not leaving until we get some answers. I am not about to be dismissed. I am not angry that the tubes didn't work, but I honestly think there is something so much more that we have missed. And damnit, I want my baby girl to be ok. She still is not talking. We are hearing words every so often, but it's more of the same humming and pointing.
I know she isn't autistic - although I had my doubts once upon a time - but she doesn't exhibit the signs. Mostly, it's her speech and her walking/running/balance.
I am sad, but I am happy that we are on the path to doing SOMETHING. I am just upset that it wasn't seen and done awhile ago.
James Thomas
We start Wee Ball (Tee Ball with a bigger ball and only one base) next week, we were accepted into Preschool and James is growing up faster that I thought possible. I am sad that he is growing up so fast, but every stage is my favorite. I love every second of seeing him become a "big kid."
And speaking of kids, two are now crying. Off I go!
I'm not really sure where to start, so I guess I'll just follow the title of the post.
 |
| 5 Pounds down in 2 weeks! |
The Battle of the Bulge has been difficult. It's definitely the hardest it has been of all my pregnancies. Probably because I'm older and just a little bit more decrepit. I know going back to work has helped because I don't sit around all day, nursing a baby and baking stuff to eat while sitting and nursing a baby. I don't have the time, neither, to eat how I used to, so I am happy to say that in the 2.5 weeks I have started this terrible journey, I am down 5 pounds. Wahoo! And maybe, just maybe, tomorrow will take me to 6.
In all, keeping track of my weight every day (yep, every day. Obsessed much?), I have definitely seen a trend. I'll drop a couple of pounds, then gain back a half pound, then drop a couple more, then gain back. Maybe that's my metabolism ramping up after hibernating for, ummmm, 11 months or so. We shall see.
All in all, I'm happy with the progress, I just wish it were happening faster. However, I also understand that several things go into this: getting your metabolism to do what you need it to do, actually watching what you eat and even more important, not cutting so much that it will cause me to lose my milk supply. Which makes a good segue...
...and on that farm she had some milk...
Thanks to my trusty lactation cookies, my first week back to work was full of milk. Although I have to pump about every three hours, which sucks, I am getting milk out so much faster and only really have to pump about 10 minutes. Which is AWESOME. With Catherine, it seemed like it was a constant struggle and I would have to pump 20-25 minutes just to get enough for a bottle. With Drew, I am pumping an extra bottle a day, which obviously, I am freezing. I have no idea how that has happened, but the lactation consultant I went to see (what can I say? That mommy time is solid and I love talking with other moms) said that since I stopped breastfeeding, oh, A YEAR AGO, that my body is probably used to making milk.
It seems that my milk, however, gives Drew some horrible gas. I feel bad for him, as he struggles with it almost every day. And it's stinks! Holy hell!
BUT, he also eats a ton and is difficult to burp, much like my other kids. I still fully maintain that he overeats and spits the rest up. It's not typical spit-up that comes out, it's like the milk went down and comes right back up. But he seems to love comfort nursing, I just happen to have too much milk for him and he keeps getting too full. Which is another great segue...
Drew Michael
You had your two month check up, and you are a healthy 13 pounds. You are big and strong and LOVE your siblings. You love to smile and laugh and play on the floor. I was worried about my first week back - after the nightmare that was Catherine, I was hoping that we didn't go down the same path in regard to daycare not understanding the "structure" of bottle feeding breast milk, but we are doing great and it's awesome. Hooray!
Speaking of Catherine...
Catherine Lynn
*Sigh* I don't think the tubes are working and to be quite frank, I really think there is something else going on. I had a pity-party one day where I cried, thinking about how you aren't developing "normally." I was upset, sad, angry and worried about your future. I sat around wishing I would have done something different when you were first born.
After my 12 hour pity-party, I was like a dog with a bone. I have been on the phone with several agencies and have made sure that people are listening. We have an evaluation by the Area Education Agency on Thursday. Our physical therapist for Catherine has put in for an evaluation for an Occupational Therapist as well as a Speech Therapist. There are a myriad of things that are not going well for you, but at the end of the day, it's the fact that in one month since getting tubes, you've had two ear infections, and you have terrible balance. I mean, terrible. As far as mom-gut goes, I feel like there is something more going on with your ears. After your AEA evaluation, we have a follow-up at the ENT, and you can believe that I will be telling them that we're not leaving until we get some answers. I am not about to be dismissed. I am not angry that the tubes didn't work, but I honestly think there is something so much more that we have missed. And damnit, I want my baby girl to be ok. She still is not talking. We are hearing words every so often, but it's more of the same humming and pointing.
I know she isn't autistic - although I had my doubts once upon a time - but she doesn't exhibit the signs. Mostly, it's her speech and her walking/running/balance.
I am sad, but I am happy that we are on the path to doing SOMETHING. I am just upset that it wasn't seen and done awhile ago.
James Thomas
We start Wee Ball (Tee Ball with a bigger ball and only one base) next week, we were accepted into Preschool and James is growing up faster that I thought possible. I am sad that he is growing up so fast, but every stage is my favorite. I love every second of seeing him become a "big kid."
And speaking of kids, two are now crying. Off I go!
Thursday, March 24, 2016
The Battle of the Bulge, Part 3: Week 7
Considering I have three children under the age of four (which I feel like I mention a lot, but in all honesty, it's my entire life right now, so I have no choice but to mention it), these last seven weeks have been straight-up survival mode.
I have been stuffing my face with anything I can get my hands on. Combine that with the fact that my pubic bone/sciatic nerve are still bothering me, the fact that in these seven weeks, we have dealt with two surgeries, two bouts of the flu, another ear infection, recovery from having a baby, and that baby getting thrush, I really can't be too hard on myself.
But last Sunday, when I saw the picture that I took with my mother, grandmother and kids, I said to myself that I really need to take better care of myself.
First of all, I'm always hungry. ALWAYS. It sounds like an excuse, but seriously, I can't get enough food. And when you're in survival mode, you don't stop to count calories, or really, give a shit what you're eating. You could probably put something like squid in front of me and I wouldn't think twice about shoveling it into my mouth.
Second of all, did I mention I have three kids under four? I couldn't care less about counting calories or giving a shit what I put in my mouth. As long as it gets rid of the hunger pains.
Third of all, Drew is a fairly good baby, and in the afternoons, he takes a solid nap. Which allows me to utilize my new kitchen. I really like using my new kitchen, particular my "baking corner" where I have everything nicely and neatly stored and can access it with ease. Only the problem with that is I never bake anything healthy. Pumpkin bars? Blueberry muffins? Banana bread? Once I bake it, I shovel it in, just like the rest of it.
So going back to the picture, on Sunday when I got home with the kids, I decided that was when I was really going to take stock and invest in my weight. Considering I already have an issue with the way I look normally, I was horrified when I saw this photo.
I bought a scale, downloaded an app to help hold me accountable and away I have gone!
With my pregnancy, I was heavier starting out because of the anti-anxiety medicine I was on to deal with all of Catherine's issues (and the mom guilt that was incredibly heavy).
The combination of pubic bone and sciatic nerve pain did me in. I did a lot of sitting, and a lot of eating. From my typical, ideal weight of 160, I went in to be induced weighing 205. That's a whole 45 pounds gained, the most of any of my pregnancies.
So, I have been watching what I eat, and making sure I eat every two or three hours to keep the metabolism going. One of the big things my mom would always tell me when I talked about weight gain was that pop was the worst culprit. All that corn syrup! So funny story - the morning after I had Drew, I knew I needed a Mountain Dew or I would get a headache, so I had Eric bring the one from the previous day from the truck. I took one swig and thought I was going to throw up. It was horrible tasting! Thus began my taste aversion to all pop, which is bizarre, considering I used to drink it every day. But now I can't stand the sight or taste of it. So what does one person do when they rely on pop for all their caffeine needs, but can't drink it? Go to cappucino mix, of course! Which only has 120 calories per 4 tablespoons. So, that's what I have been drinking every morning. It will be interesting to see what I will do when I go back to work! But for now, that works.
So in all, I have been watching what I eat, and breastfeeding, of course, and here I am, down 4 pounds from Sunday. So, that was interestingly easy. The app that I have, of course, doesn't allow for calories burned through breastfeeding, so I just put it in as an exercise (and somedays, it is exercise!) and put the least amount that you might burn (400), and that helps to keep me accountable. It's nice to see that my "hard" work is doing something. Hopefully by this time next week I'm down at least 8 pounds. Hopefully!
I have been stuffing my face with anything I can get my hands on. Combine that with the fact that my pubic bone/sciatic nerve are still bothering me, the fact that in these seven weeks, we have dealt with two surgeries, two bouts of the flu, another ear infection, recovery from having a baby, and that baby getting thrush, I really can't be too hard on myself.
But last Sunday, when I saw the picture that I took with my mother, grandmother and kids, I said to myself that I really need to take better care of myself.
First of all, I'm always hungry. ALWAYS. It sounds like an excuse, but seriously, I can't get enough food. And when you're in survival mode, you don't stop to count calories, or really, give a shit what you're eating. You could probably put something like squid in front of me and I wouldn't think twice about shoveling it into my mouth.
Second of all, did I mention I have three kids under four? I couldn't care less about counting calories or giving a shit what I put in my mouth. As long as it gets rid of the hunger pains.
Third of all, Drew is a fairly good baby, and in the afternoons, he takes a solid nap. Which allows me to utilize my new kitchen. I really like using my new kitchen, particular my "baking corner" where I have everything nicely and neatly stored and can access it with ease. Only the problem with that is I never bake anything healthy. Pumpkin bars? Blueberry muffins? Banana bread? Once I bake it, I shovel it in, just like the rest of it.
So going back to the picture, on Sunday when I got home with the kids, I decided that was when I was really going to take stock and invest in my weight. Considering I already have an issue with the way I look normally, I was horrified when I saw this photo.
I bought a scale, downloaded an app to help hold me accountable and away I have gone!
 |
| 39 Weeks and incredibly heavy! Less than a week later, I went in to be induced! |
With my pregnancy, I was heavier starting out because of the anti-anxiety medicine I was on to deal with all of Catherine's issues (and the mom guilt that was incredibly heavy).
 |
| At James and Catherine's birthday parties, most likely about the time I got pregnant. I weighed approximately 165. |
 |
| I love taking fun pictures with my kiddos and this was just a quick snapshot/selfie. I was horrified when I saw this picture. At first, I thought surely it was just a bad angle. Then I saw the photo I took with my kids, my mother, and my grandmother. Nope, this is my reality! |
So on Sunday, I decided that enough was enough! Now that spring is here, we are coming out from under the dark rock that was our life for seven weeks. The only problem I have with all of this is that none of my clothes fit...
Do I own the typical flow-y shirts and looser pants from previous post-pregnancies? Or just having them in my typical wardrobe? Absolutely. But even some of those don't fit right, and it's not necessarily because I am big, but these boobs are out of control.
I always loathed being smaller chested, until I had the chance to take these 40C's, and depending, 40D's, out of a joyride. I fricken hate it. they are so big, I feel like they push my arms out from my sides. It's terrible. I can't wait to have my A/B's back!
 |
| Here they are, out of control! |
So in all, I have been watching what I eat, and breastfeeding, of course, and here I am, down 4 pounds from Sunday. So, that was interestingly easy. The app that I have, of course, doesn't allow for calories burned through breastfeeding, so I just put it in as an exercise (and somedays, it is exercise!) and put the least amount that you might burn (400), and that helps to keep me accountable. It's nice to see that my "hard" work is doing something. Hopefully by this time next week I'm down at least 8 pounds. Hopefully!
 |
| The first trial run with a new tunic, hair did, make-up on and ready for a work day! Only took me an hour and a half! |
'til next week!
Sunday, March 20, 2016
1.5 Months and Another Update
Last Friday night, I found myself miles away from showering, breastfeeding Drew while sitting on a children's stool in the bathroom while my other two children took a bath, a.k.a. dumping water from their cups onto the floor outside of the bath.
Oh, and I was also bawling. I was at the end of my rope. And my children aren't even home with me all day.
Drew had not slept in hours, and was constantly nursing. Eric had stupidly scheduled his vasectomy for earlier that morning. Catherine was developing another ear infection, while Drew was somehow getting pink-eye, and James was just being a 3.5 year old butt head, as some 3.5 year old's can be.
Did I mention that I was bawling?
At some point, Eric came up and got Drew from me, all while miraculously keeping his bag of peas on his balls in tact, which was pretty impressive. I got the kids out of the bath, cleaned up the mess on the floor, and prayed that bedtime would be early that night.
I somehow managed to find some time to shower, while Drew slept in Eric's arms as Eric iced himself in our recliner. The other two were in bed and I remember standing in the spray wondering how the fuck my life had ended up like this?
And what's even more exciting is that in the face of it all, I have to somehow hold myself together and be the matriarch that my entire family needs me to be. But on Friday night, I was done.
Saturday morning wasn't much better. I had gone to bed with wet hair, making it a disheveled mess on Saturday morning. I was wearing spit-up covered sweat pants that are too short, a nursing top that is not flattering at all, and I come downstairs to a house that is literally torn apart by two children because I had not had time to clean it up.
I came downstairs to a text message from my best friend saying, "I am headed your way!"
How could I have forgotten that she was coming to meet Drew? Even moreso, how could I call her and tell her not to come?
But that's exactly what I did. My house was a mess, my hair was a mess, my kids were a mess (because let's be honest, they didn't take baths, they played around in the water) and quite frankly, my life was a mess. I called, an anxiety-riddled, overwhelmed, mother with three kids under the age of 4 and my life seriously felt like it was falling apart.
And I was doing it all on my own, since Eric could hardly walk, let alone take care of three children.
A couple days before this, Eric's mom had asked if she could do anything since Catherine was getting tubes in her ears on Tuesday. I jokingly said, "You can come down this weekend and help, since Eric is getting snipped on Friday." We didn't hear anything, but on Saturday afternoon, here comes Terri and her boyfriend on their white steed-like pick-up truck to save the day. And the first thing they did was load up James and Catherine and take them to the library.
Did I mention that I cried?
They backed down the driveway and I sat on the couch and wept. I had not had a break in what seemed like a week. Between Catherine's tubes, Eric's vasectomy, Drew's unusual crying streak, and my trying to just keep the house going, I had not had a quiet, clean house in what felt like ages.
You would think all this crying would be a precursor to maybe getting some medicine for post-partum depression, but I've been through post-partum depression, and this is not it. This is just sincerely being overwhelmed by the demands brought on me by three children. And the person who is getting the brunt of my being pulled in nine million different directions is James.
James: "Mom, will you play with me?"
Me: "Absolutely, but Drew is crying, which means he's hungry. Let me feed him and then I will play with you."
And in the 20 minutes it takes for me to feed and burp Drew, 20 things have happened to pull my attention further away from that request.
I forgot to stir the meat in the crockpot. Oh shoot! I forgot to add the seasonings! While I'm in the kitchen, I'll put these dishes away. Oh wait, I have to redirect Catherine to play with something in the living room so she's not getting in the dishwasher or drawers. Crap, Drew is crying, I need to get his pacifier. Ugh, he came unswaddled! Catherine is getting into something she shouldn't. Drew is crying again. The cat wants outside. I trip over something and go to put it away.
And then James says, "Mom, are you ready to play with me?"
Shit! I forgot that I was going to play with him!
And so it goes, round and round like that, a sick cycle where I can't ever get ahead and where I feel like I am always neglecting one of my kids. But James the most because he is the one who needs me the least.
So I try to put aside small amounts of time with them. Sometimes it's James and Catherine together, such as this morning, watching George. Then I put Catherine down for her nap, and James and I watched some more Curious George. Once Drew is up, I'll take him downstairs and feed him.
And so it goes.
I have learned to forgive myself. I have learned to roll with the punches, not worry about "getting ready for my day," and there have even been a few days where I went without a shower, and even one day where I went without brushing my teeth (so gross!). But that was one day that has come and gone, and slowly, we are working into a routine with three kids.
I had no idea it was going to be so difficult.
So onward, to our updates!
Drew-boo:
You, sir, are gigantic. You eat like a champ, and I'm pumping extra milk here and there, which is exciting. You weigh about 12.5 pounds, so you're on par to be 13 pounds, maybe more, at your 2 month well-child check-up. I have put away all your newborn clothes (or rather, put them into bins to sell them at my next No-More-Kids yard sale), and have phased out almost all of your 0-3 month clothes. You are mostly in straight-up 3 month clothes, and surprisingly, they aren't even really that big on you. While we were back visiting family this weekend, I saw a picture of James at 3 months and holy moses, you look identical to him.
You are just now starting to smile and coo, which came slowly because you have been so miserable. You not only had a rash and fever last Sunday, but come to find out Wednesday, you had thrush. Which means I have thrush. I was confused as to why nursing had all of a sudden turned painful again, and I thought it was a lazy latch. So I went to my breastfeeding support group, as I religiously do every week, for an LC to check you latch. She took one look at your tongue and said, "oh my, he has thrush, bad!" So we went to the doctor, who wasn't our typical ped. because ours was out of town. She wasn't very helpful, and didn't tell me anything to help me with my thrush, so I posted on a parenting group that I'm a part of. And the replies I received? That the nystatin that was prescribed to Drew would not be helpful and to instead, use grapefruit seed extract. Umm, where the hell do you find something like that? I can tell you, not anywhere in town. After doing some research, it turns out that not only does GSE (grapefruit seed extract's street name, apparently) help, but also coconut oil. I religiously put coconut oil in his mouth every feeding, and it was been amazing. Combine that with the GSE, and he hardly has any blisters left in his mouth - mostly just a few on his cheeks. Not to mention, you are a much happier baby, and you're sleeping so much more soundly! This mama is thrilled.
Speaking of sleep, you have finally gotten into somewhat of a routine, which is a little weird. You will fall asleep after your last "night" feeding about 9:00-9:30 and wake up for your first middle-of-the-night feeding at 1:30 a.m. Exactly. Literally, there is no deviation in this at all. Whenever I hear you starting to stir and wake up, I check my phone (because sometimes, I'm so tired I'm not sure if I actually fell asleep or not). It's always 1:30 on the nose. You eat a lot in that time, and are usually done between 2:10 and 2:20 a.m. and God bless you, you fall right back asleep. It usually takes me a little while to get back to sleep after that, but then you're up again at 5:30 a.m. exactly. Again, there is absolutely NO deviation from this time. Not 1:31 a.m. or 5:31 a.m. It's always 1:30 a.m. or 5:30 a.m. on the nose. crazy. So it's exciting that you are actually going about 3.5 hours between feedings at night.
During the day, it's another story. Usually after that 5:30 a.m. feeding, it's another one at 8:30 a.m., then 10:30 or 11:00 and then you're down for the count until at least 3:30 or 4:00. Normally, I can feed you in the late afternoon right before I go get the other two from daycare. Somewhere in there, about once or twice a week, I try to pump some milk just to get a freezer stash going, but I would say the fact that you're gaining about a half pound (or more) a week, says that I have plenty of milk for you.
All in all, you are an easy baby, when you're not in pain from thrush, or coughing and stuffed up from a virus. Or being pummeled in the face with a rattle from Catherine. Welcome to the shitshow! :)
Catherine:
This weekend, I took a picture of you wearing horns and wearing a onesie that said "Little Princess" and boy can a picture speak a thousand words! I would say that is you, to a T, most of the time. You are frequently voicing your opinion, throwing temper tantrums (to which we ignore or threaten time-out, which puts the kabosh on those real quick), or pummeling Drew in the face with his blanket, rattle, or trying to stick his pacifier in his eye. If you're not trying to steal the pacifier for yourself. All in all, you love to help, you love getting into things, and you are pretty wild. I have a feeling in about 12 years, I will be doing everything to break a wild horse, but until then, I will try to bask in the fact that you are adorable most of the time.
You got your tubes in your ears March 8, and a week later, you had nasty, brownish/red/yellow goop coming out of it. Yep, another damn ear infection! Seriously? This one came with the typical fever, but the fever only stuck around about 12 hours, was lower grade than typical, and the nurse said if your ear was draining, the tubes were doing their job. I have also noticed since you got tubes that you have less of a runny nose. It seemed like we were constantly wiping your nose (or you were wiping it on something, which was awesome), and now, we still have to wipe your nose, but it seems like it is so much better than it was! For your ear infection, we just had to start the antibiotic ear drop regimen all over again, get a new prescription (there are so many damn prescriptions for our kids sitting in our kitchen cupboard, it's ridiculous), and hopefully, that will be the last ear infection we will see in a long while. Hopefully.
I have noticed that you are starting to be more verbal. You will point to things and use the same vowel for each, and I swear you are trying to say James. I also swear you are trying to say Drew. You can say Mom, which is adorable, but you won't say Dad (which you did before we started to see your speech regression). I suppose it will work it's way back, but it's so nice to see you actually starting to progress on your own, rather than us just hoping for something that will happen.
When they cleaned your ears prior to the surgery, the doctor said your ears weren't even fluid filled, but it was more like a jelly substance. So no wonder you couldn't hear! The doctor even said he guaranteed that you could hear better, even if the rest of our "issues" don't improve. Once we got you home, I noticed it right away, as it was 72 degrees, we had the windows open, and it was garbage day. That truck came into the cul-de-sac and was horribly loud, and you hated it. You are also very quick to react to barking dogs, which I am sure you haven't really heard before. You either scramble the other direction, or scramble into our arms.
You are still what I would call "needy" but you are beginning to be so much more independent. The most exciting thing is that you are actually starting to play with James. More times than not we are trying to keep you apart, but there have been glimpses of what it will be like when the two of you are a little older, and it melts my heart. At the end of all of this, I am so glad we had our kids really close together. I can't wait to see how close you will be when you're older.
James:
Oh, little boy, you are ready for a world beyond toddler-hood, and it makes me a little sad, but on the other hand, I am excited for it and for you. We signed you up for pre-school, but I haven't received any word on whether you were accepted. However, I did receive an email about a mandatory parent meeting for all students accepted. Ummm... where's the acceptance email? I haven't emailed the woman back, as I am sure I will get an acceptance email. For God's sakes, the registration is a Google Form, and I am a heavy google user. So I didn't have to put in any of my information, the google form auotmatically did it for me. So I just had to select the time of day I wanted James to go (morning or afternoon), and some of his information. I refreshed until the link was live at 7:01 p.m. and was finished at 7:02. I also credit my mad typing skills. :)
We also signed you up for Wee Ball, which is essentially a dumbed down version of Tee Ball. Although you won't be 4 by the cut-off, which would put you in the 3-4 year old division, I signed you up for the 4-5 year old division because you are 43 inches tall, you are 42 pounds, and honestly, you throw and kick a wicked ball. Everyone who has seen him kick and throw a ball have commented on how good he is at throwing, catching and kicking, It seems like you are growing up so fast.
Us:
It seems like Eric and I are passing ships in the night, but it's getting better. Just a little while ago, we had ten whole minutes on the couch by ourselves. No kids (James was upstairs watching George) and Iowa Basketball on the TV. It was glorious. Now that Eric has finished a couple of outstanding jobs, his work schedule is more manageable. His balls are healing, and things are good.
Not to mention, it's the first day of Spring!
I hear a baby crying! Lunch time!
Oh, and I was also bawling. I was at the end of my rope. And my children aren't even home with me all day.
Drew had not slept in hours, and was constantly nursing. Eric had stupidly scheduled his vasectomy for earlier that morning. Catherine was developing another ear infection, while Drew was somehow getting pink-eye, and James was just being a 3.5 year old butt head, as some 3.5 year old's can be.
Did I mention that I was bawling?
At some point, Eric came up and got Drew from me, all while miraculously keeping his bag of peas on his balls in tact, which was pretty impressive. I got the kids out of the bath, cleaned up the mess on the floor, and prayed that bedtime would be early that night.
I somehow managed to find some time to shower, while Drew slept in Eric's arms as Eric iced himself in our recliner. The other two were in bed and I remember standing in the spray wondering how the fuck my life had ended up like this?
And what's even more exciting is that in the face of it all, I have to somehow hold myself together and be the matriarch that my entire family needs me to be. But on Friday night, I was done.
Saturday morning wasn't much better. I had gone to bed with wet hair, making it a disheveled mess on Saturday morning. I was wearing spit-up covered sweat pants that are too short, a nursing top that is not flattering at all, and I come downstairs to a house that is literally torn apart by two children because I had not had time to clean it up.
I came downstairs to a text message from my best friend saying, "I am headed your way!"
How could I have forgotten that she was coming to meet Drew? Even moreso, how could I call her and tell her not to come?
But that's exactly what I did. My house was a mess, my hair was a mess, my kids were a mess (because let's be honest, they didn't take baths, they played around in the water) and quite frankly, my life was a mess. I called, an anxiety-riddled, overwhelmed, mother with three kids under the age of 4 and my life seriously felt like it was falling apart.
And I was doing it all on my own, since Eric could hardly walk, let alone take care of three children.
A couple days before this, Eric's mom had asked if she could do anything since Catherine was getting tubes in her ears on Tuesday. I jokingly said, "You can come down this weekend and help, since Eric is getting snipped on Friday." We didn't hear anything, but on Saturday afternoon, here comes Terri and her boyfriend on their white steed-like pick-up truck to save the day. And the first thing they did was load up James and Catherine and take them to the library.
Did I mention that I cried?
They backed down the driveway and I sat on the couch and wept. I had not had a break in what seemed like a week. Between Catherine's tubes, Eric's vasectomy, Drew's unusual crying streak, and my trying to just keep the house going, I had not had a quiet, clean house in what felt like ages.
You would think all this crying would be a precursor to maybe getting some medicine for post-partum depression, but I've been through post-partum depression, and this is not it. This is just sincerely being overwhelmed by the demands brought on me by three children. And the person who is getting the brunt of my being pulled in nine million different directions is James.
James: "Mom, will you play with me?"
Me: "Absolutely, but Drew is crying, which means he's hungry. Let me feed him and then I will play with you."
And in the 20 minutes it takes for me to feed and burp Drew, 20 things have happened to pull my attention further away from that request.
I forgot to stir the meat in the crockpot. Oh shoot! I forgot to add the seasonings! While I'm in the kitchen, I'll put these dishes away. Oh wait, I have to redirect Catherine to play with something in the living room so she's not getting in the dishwasher or drawers. Crap, Drew is crying, I need to get his pacifier. Ugh, he came unswaddled! Catherine is getting into something she shouldn't. Drew is crying again. The cat wants outside. I trip over something and go to put it away.
And then James says, "Mom, are you ready to play with me?"
Shit! I forgot that I was going to play with him!
And so it goes, round and round like that, a sick cycle where I can't ever get ahead and where I feel like I am always neglecting one of my kids. But James the most because he is the one who needs me the least.
So I try to put aside small amounts of time with them. Sometimes it's James and Catherine together, such as this morning, watching George. Then I put Catherine down for her nap, and James and I watched some more Curious George. Once Drew is up, I'll take him downstairs and feed him.
And so it goes.
I have learned to forgive myself. I have learned to roll with the punches, not worry about "getting ready for my day," and there have even been a few days where I went without a shower, and even one day where I went without brushing my teeth (so gross!). But that was one day that has come and gone, and slowly, we are working into a routine with three kids.
I had no idea it was going to be so difficult.
So onward, to our updates!
Drew-boo:
You, sir, are gigantic. You eat like a champ, and I'm pumping extra milk here and there, which is exciting. You weigh about 12.5 pounds, so you're on par to be 13 pounds, maybe more, at your 2 month well-child check-up. I have put away all your newborn clothes (or rather, put them into bins to sell them at my next No-More-Kids yard sale), and have phased out almost all of your 0-3 month clothes. You are mostly in straight-up 3 month clothes, and surprisingly, they aren't even really that big on you. While we were back visiting family this weekend, I saw a picture of James at 3 months and holy moses, you look identical to him.
You are just now starting to smile and coo, which came slowly because you have been so miserable. You not only had a rash and fever last Sunday, but come to find out Wednesday, you had thrush. Which means I have thrush. I was confused as to why nursing had all of a sudden turned painful again, and I thought it was a lazy latch. So I went to my breastfeeding support group, as I religiously do every week, for an LC to check you latch. She took one look at your tongue and said, "oh my, he has thrush, bad!" So we went to the doctor, who wasn't our typical ped. because ours was out of town. She wasn't very helpful, and didn't tell me anything to help me with my thrush, so I posted on a parenting group that I'm a part of. And the replies I received? That the nystatin that was prescribed to Drew would not be helpful and to instead, use grapefruit seed extract. Umm, where the hell do you find something like that? I can tell you, not anywhere in town. After doing some research, it turns out that not only does GSE (grapefruit seed extract's street name, apparently) help, but also coconut oil. I religiously put coconut oil in his mouth every feeding, and it was been amazing. Combine that with the GSE, and he hardly has any blisters left in his mouth - mostly just a few on his cheeks. Not to mention, you are a much happier baby, and you're sleeping so much more soundly! This mama is thrilled.
Speaking of sleep, you have finally gotten into somewhat of a routine, which is a little weird. You will fall asleep after your last "night" feeding about 9:00-9:30 and wake up for your first middle-of-the-night feeding at 1:30 a.m. Exactly. Literally, there is no deviation in this at all. Whenever I hear you starting to stir and wake up, I check my phone (because sometimes, I'm so tired I'm not sure if I actually fell asleep or not). It's always 1:30 on the nose. You eat a lot in that time, and are usually done between 2:10 and 2:20 a.m. and God bless you, you fall right back asleep. It usually takes me a little while to get back to sleep after that, but then you're up again at 5:30 a.m. exactly. Again, there is absolutely NO deviation from this time. Not 1:31 a.m. or 5:31 a.m. It's always 1:30 a.m. or 5:30 a.m. on the nose. crazy. So it's exciting that you are actually going about 3.5 hours between feedings at night.
During the day, it's another story. Usually after that 5:30 a.m. feeding, it's another one at 8:30 a.m., then 10:30 or 11:00 and then you're down for the count until at least 3:30 or 4:00. Normally, I can feed you in the late afternoon right before I go get the other two from daycare. Somewhere in there, about once or twice a week, I try to pump some milk just to get a freezer stash going, but I would say the fact that you're gaining about a half pound (or more) a week, says that I have plenty of milk for you.
All in all, you are an easy baby, when you're not in pain from thrush, or coughing and stuffed up from a virus. Or being pummeled in the face with a rattle from Catherine. Welcome to the shitshow! :)
Catherine:
This weekend, I took a picture of you wearing horns and wearing a onesie that said "Little Princess" and boy can a picture speak a thousand words! I would say that is you, to a T, most of the time. You are frequently voicing your opinion, throwing temper tantrums (to which we ignore or threaten time-out, which puts the kabosh on those real quick), or pummeling Drew in the face with his blanket, rattle, or trying to stick his pacifier in his eye. If you're not trying to steal the pacifier for yourself. All in all, you love to help, you love getting into things, and you are pretty wild. I have a feeling in about 12 years, I will be doing everything to break a wild horse, but until then, I will try to bask in the fact that you are adorable most of the time.
You got your tubes in your ears March 8, and a week later, you had nasty, brownish/red/yellow goop coming out of it. Yep, another damn ear infection! Seriously? This one came with the typical fever, but the fever only stuck around about 12 hours, was lower grade than typical, and the nurse said if your ear was draining, the tubes were doing their job. I have also noticed since you got tubes that you have less of a runny nose. It seemed like we were constantly wiping your nose (or you were wiping it on something, which was awesome), and now, we still have to wipe your nose, but it seems like it is so much better than it was! For your ear infection, we just had to start the antibiotic ear drop regimen all over again, get a new prescription (there are so many damn prescriptions for our kids sitting in our kitchen cupboard, it's ridiculous), and hopefully, that will be the last ear infection we will see in a long while. Hopefully.
I have noticed that you are starting to be more verbal. You will point to things and use the same vowel for each, and I swear you are trying to say James. I also swear you are trying to say Drew. You can say Mom, which is adorable, but you won't say Dad (which you did before we started to see your speech regression). I suppose it will work it's way back, but it's so nice to see you actually starting to progress on your own, rather than us just hoping for something that will happen.
When they cleaned your ears prior to the surgery, the doctor said your ears weren't even fluid filled, but it was more like a jelly substance. So no wonder you couldn't hear! The doctor even said he guaranteed that you could hear better, even if the rest of our "issues" don't improve. Once we got you home, I noticed it right away, as it was 72 degrees, we had the windows open, and it was garbage day. That truck came into the cul-de-sac and was horribly loud, and you hated it. You are also very quick to react to barking dogs, which I am sure you haven't really heard before. You either scramble the other direction, or scramble into our arms.
You are still what I would call "needy" but you are beginning to be so much more independent. The most exciting thing is that you are actually starting to play with James. More times than not we are trying to keep you apart, but there have been glimpses of what it will be like when the two of you are a little older, and it melts my heart. At the end of all of this, I am so glad we had our kids really close together. I can't wait to see how close you will be when you're older.
James:
Oh, little boy, you are ready for a world beyond toddler-hood, and it makes me a little sad, but on the other hand, I am excited for it and for you. We signed you up for pre-school, but I haven't received any word on whether you were accepted. However, I did receive an email about a mandatory parent meeting for all students accepted. Ummm... where's the acceptance email? I haven't emailed the woman back, as I am sure I will get an acceptance email. For God's sakes, the registration is a Google Form, and I am a heavy google user. So I didn't have to put in any of my information, the google form auotmatically did it for me. So I just had to select the time of day I wanted James to go (morning or afternoon), and some of his information. I refreshed until the link was live at 7:01 p.m. and was finished at 7:02. I also credit my mad typing skills. :)
We also signed you up for Wee Ball, which is essentially a dumbed down version of Tee Ball. Although you won't be 4 by the cut-off, which would put you in the 3-4 year old division, I signed you up for the 4-5 year old division because you are 43 inches tall, you are 42 pounds, and honestly, you throw and kick a wicked ball. Everyone who has seen him kick and throw a ball have commented on how good he is at throwing, catching and kicking, It seems like you are growing up so fast.
Us:
It seems like Eric and I are passing ships in the night, but it's getting better. Just a little while ago, we had ten whole minutes on the couch by ourselves. No kids (James was upstairs watching George) and Iowa Basketball on the TV. It was glorious. Now that Eric has finished a couple of outstanding jobs, his work schedule is more manageable. His balls are healing, and things are good.
Not to mention, it's the first day of Spring!
I hear a baby crying! Lunch time!
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