You still love dogs.
You seem to love you cloth diapers, which, honestly, to me seem like they'd be hotter/bulkier/less comfy in the summer. But we got them back out when I felt like I could stomach it, and it's going really well.
You know tons of colors (which I think is one reason you love your cloth diapers, they seem to have piqued your interest in the whole idea of colors with names, etc.)
You love to make a doggie cage out of the laundry basket--you are the doggie. You get under it (while it's turned upside down), then you call me into the room so you can tell me you're a doggie.
You love the hose, but only when we chase you around the backyard with it. You love a reason to run.
You still love to sleep with your paci.
We've had a couple of incidents that have made me pretty sure you're ready to potty train. I was hoping we'd find a camp for that.
You did NOT scream when I left you in the church nursery Sunday. First time ever. I stayed at least 15 minutes and played first, which I never do. I'm not sure if this is what helped or it if just all happened on the same day.
You love to go for rides in the car. You'll just ask to go get in the car. When we pull back onto our street, you often whine / fuss / scream depending on your mood and how tired you are. You're usually disappointed to come back home (it's not like we don't take you places all the time!).
You've needed us to reinforce lots of boundaries lately. Often and continuously.
You do not care to speak of the baby in mommy's tummy; but you're infatuated with how my belly button looks and constantly compare it to your own.
If it's possible, you get cuter every single day.
You grew two inches in about 3.5 months. I'm not an expert, but that was surprising to me since you're two and not 4 months. All the sudden everyone was asking us if you were taller--and you were! About a month ago, you were 30 lbs. and 36".
You LOVE "Go, Diego, Go," and all animals, and the sounds they make, etc.
More and more you enjoy having friends over or going to friends' houses. You still don't play "with" them, usually; but I think it's more of a function of your personality than your social development.
You're pretty cuddly, much more so than when you were a "baby." We love it.
You don't love the pool. I do. It's a bummer.
You LOVE music. You enjoy "conducting" us more than you enjoy creating it yourself, and if someone sings you a song, he or she needs to be prepared to sing it a thousand times. If it's a song that pleases you, you don't think it ever gets old.
You're such a precious little boy. I think your Daddy and I enjoy you more every day (not that you don't have your moments....that turn into hours. But we try to remember you're 2.5).
We love you, Spencer!
6/11/11
6/7/11
My Baby
My mom warned me that I'd mourn the "loss" of Spencer as my baby as I got ready to welcome the next one. And, as is usually the case, she was right.
And, we all mourn in different ways, right? I apparently, decide to dress him in ways I didn't even love when he was a baby. I'm sorta cracking myself up.
I was picking out fabrics for baby girl's room, and instead of getting anything for her, I came home with madras plaid yardage. I asked my mom to sew a romper for Spencer "for the beach," and "the 4th of July," and "for church when it's so hot."
For real? It's for me. It's his last "baby" outfit. In fact, it's sort of his first baby outfit, depending on your definition of what's appropriate for baby boys to wear for the above occasions. (Opinions are apparently STRONG and WIDELY varied, ha!)
Isn't my baby precious?
And big?
And, we all mourn in different ways, right? I apparently, decide to dress him in ways I didn't even love when he was a baby. I'm sorta cracking myself up.
I was picking out fabrics for baby girl's room, and instead of getting anything for her, I came home with madras plaid yardage. I asked my mom to sew a romper for Spencer "for the beach," and "the 4th of July," and "for church when it's so hot."
For real? It's for me. It's his last "baby" outfit. In fact, it's sort of his first baby outfit, depending on your definition of what's appropriate for baby boys to wear for the above occasions. (Opinions are apparently STRONG and WIDELY varied, ha!)
Isn't my baby precious?
And big?
6/1/11
Small Shorts for Summer
I finally put on my maternity shorts from the summer I was pregnant with Spencer. They are supposed to look nicer than gym shorts which are the only shorts I'd been wearing up until now. Loose, maternity capris have worked well so far for comfort and my regrettable lack of desire when it comes to shaving my legs. But, this weekend was going to be hot, and we were going to the park, and I told myself it was time to actually participate as Spencer's mother. "So put shorts on and plan on standing up on the playground for a long time, sweating." I put sunscreen on too, so as to have no excuse to go sit in the shade.
Now, I may have mentioned previously that I gain a lot of weight when I'm pregnant. I have said that to many-a-woman who has answered me back, "Oh, me too! I gained fifty pounds with so-and-so." And to that I laugh and think, try adding another "healthy" pregnancy on top of that fifty." I gained over seventy pounds with Spencer. I quit weighing myself after that, and he came at least a few weeks later, maybe a month. I think I forgot the exact details for my own mental and emotional protection.
To be fair, I was not overweight when I got pregnant (either time), so I know that I needed to gain weight. I was happy to gain weight. I'm ALL ABOUT giving the baby what it needs. I'm just not all about growing out of every article of clothing that can be purchased in the greater Little Rock area. And that's how seventy plus pounds starts to feel on a 5' 5.75" woman. And, to be even more fair, I was not underweight when I got pregnant either time either. I was like Baby Bear on Goldilocks. I was just right. There have been times in my life when I was not "just right," and to be honest, I like being "just right." And this excessive weight-gain thing has bothered me more this time around. I honestly think it's because I've felt a little better this time and I have more energy and where-withal to think about it.
The last nurse who gave me a hard time about my weight gain with Spencer gave me the final nudge I needed to switch doctors. THAT'S how I felt about it last time. =)
Anyway, back to the shorts. I forced myself to put on the shorts, which is a bigger deal if you gain weight more in your lower half, and I, of course, do. So, I put them on thinking, "You know what? This is NOT a big deal. You have been doing better this pregnancy. These are going to fit fine. You are nowhere near 200 lbs. You need to relax. Wouldn't you rather be cool than keep from wearing shorts? No one cares but you. Everyone knows you, and everyone knows you're pregnant...." I think mental health professionals call this "self-talk." I call it my life.
I start doing the math, thinking that there is a two month difference in the due dates of Spencer and baby girl to come. So, between the two month margin and the partially-less-excessive weight gain this time around, wearing these shorts should NOT be a big deal. However, the first pair was pretty snug. You know I don't mean in the waist, right? No one 22.5 weeks pregnant thinks things are not going to be snug in the waist. So, let's just get that straight right now--before the comments roll in about how I'm pregnant and I'm supposed to be bigger. They were snug how things are snug when you gain weight below your waist, like I always do. AND they were snug in the waist--so they were uncomfortable all over. BONUS! =)
So, I think, "Well, I have three pairs of shorts, and if I remember correctly, I got a couple in one size and then one pair in the next size up, right? I think that's what I did." So, I check the other two shorts' tags. They are the same size. I take off my shorts and check the tag, same size. Hmmm. Nice. I put the shorts back on and think, "I'm definitely not interested in knowing what I weigh now! That's such a bummer. I guess I'll blame it on the sinus infection and all the continuous-calorie-drip days that ensued as a way to keep from throwing them up. I had to take those antibiotics. I had to keep them down. That TRULY was for the baby. Just keep telling your self that...."
We finally get in the car to go to the park. Jonathan, Spencer, and me--to enjoy a fun family day. And I keep thinking about it. I'm just really confused. I mean, there's a two month difference too! Shouldn't that help this too-small-already thing even a little bit? And then, I did it. I told Jonathan. And in about one-quarter of a second he looked at me and said, "You're two months ahead this time."
And that, ladies and gentlemen, is what it's like to be me. pregnant.
Now, I may have mentioned previously that I gain a lot of weight when I'm pregnant. I have said that to many-a-woman who has answered me back, "Oh, me too! I gained fifty pounds with so-and-so." And to that I laugh and think, try adding another "healthy" pregnancy on top of that fifty." I gained over seventy pounds with Spencer. I quit weighing myself after that, and he came at least a few weeks later, maybe a month. I think I forgot the exact details for my own mental and emotional protection.
To be fair, I was not overweight when I got pregnant (either time), so I know that I needed to gain weight. I was happy to gain weight. I'm ALL ABOUT giving the baby what it needs. I'm just not all about growing out of every article of clothing that can be purchased in the greater Little Rock area. And that's how seventy plus pounds starts to feel on a 5' 5.75" woman. And, to be even more fair, I was not underweight when I got pregnant either time either. I was like Baby Bear on Goldilocks. I was just right. There have been times in my life when I was not "just right," and to be honest, I like being "just right." And this excessive weight-gain thing has bothered me more this time around. I honestly think it's because I've felt a little better this time and I have more energy and where-withal to think about it.
The last nurse who gave me a hard time about my weight gain with Spencer gave me the final nudge I needed to switch doctors. THAT'S how I felt about it last time. =)
Anyway, back to the shorts. I forced myself to put on the shorts, which is a bigger deal if you gain weight more in your lower half, and I, of course, do. So, I put them on thinking, "You know what? This is NOT a big deal. You have been doing better this pregnancy. These are going to fit fine. You are nowhere near 200 lbs. You need to relax. Wouldn't you rather be cool than keep from wearing shorts? No one cares but you. Everyone knows you, and everyone knows you're pregnant...." I think mental health professionals call this "self-talk." I call it my life.
I start doing the math, thinking that there is a two month difference in the due dates of Spencer and baby girl to come. So, between the two month margin and the partially-less-excessive weight gain this time around, wearing these shorts should NOT be a big deal. However, the first pair was pretty snug. You know I don't mean in the waist, right? No one 22.5 weeks pregnant thinks things are not going to be snug in the waist. So, let's just get that straight right now--before the comments roll in about how I'm pregnant and I'm supposed to be bigger. They were snug how things are snug when you gain weight below your waist, like I always do. AND they were snug in the waist--so they were uncomfortable all over. BONUS! =)
So, I think, "Well, I have three pairs of shorts, and if I remember correctly, I got a couple in one size and then one pair in the next size up, right? I think that's what I did." So, I check the other two shorts' tags. They are the same size. I take off my shorts and check the tag, same size. Hmmm. Nice. I put the shorts back on and think, "I'm definitely not interested in knowing what I weigh now! That's such a bummer. I guess I'll blame it on the sinus infection and all the continuous-calorie-drip days that ensued as a way to keep from throwing them up. I had to take those antibiotics. I had to keep them down. That TRULY was for the baby. Just keep telling your self that...."
We finally get in the car to go to the park. Jonathan, Spencer, and me--to enjoy a fun family day. And I keep thinking about it. I'm just really confused. I mean, there's a two month difference too! Shouldn't that help this too-small-already thing even a little bit? And then, I did it. I told Jonathan. And in about one-quarter of a second he looked at me and said, "You're two months ahead this time."
And that, ladies and gentlemen, is what it's like to be me. pregnant.
5/13/11
Sugar and Spice and Everything Nice--(Hopefully) That's Our Little Girl!
At the end of September, we will be having a baby girl. I think I'm still a little bit in shock. Don't read that as not excited. Life just takes a while to soak in for me.
Her profile picture taken by the sonographer is not nearly as clear or well-positioned as Spencer's was, even on their brand new machine loaded with brand new software. Wanna hear why? According to the sonographer, she is so active that it's hard to get a good shot. Wow. Not comforting! Ha!
Apparently bones casts shadows on the ultrasound, so if they are very wiggly the whole time it makes it harder to get good pictures. I asked questions during the ultrasound, but none of them had anything to do with what I just told you. Kelly offered all that information on her own initiative. That was her first and main impression of my baby daughter. Again, wow.
God probably made her quick and energetic as a protective measure to get her through her childhood in one piece. I know Spencer will love her deeply, I just don't know how long it will take to teach him how to be gentle. Although he's always gentle to animals.... Oh, and she had her hands up by her face the whole time. Again, I'm convinced she leaves them there so she can cover her ears every time her brother throws a screaming fit. At least she's showing signs of adaptivity. She's gonna need it!
I'm hesitant to admit how I felt when we found out Spencer was a boy. But I will, 'cause why hold back at this point? I was relieved. It just felt like so much less pressure. And I know, intellectually, that's not really fair. I know every child, whether boy or girl, has their own strengths, weaknesses, areas they need more "help" in than others, etc. I know it's not truly "harder" to have one than the other. But I can think of many reasons why it might be a little harder for me to have a girl--I won't list them now.
And my own feelings aside, being a girl is hard. Have you read about my pregnancies? At times I find myself thinking the whole human race would be much better off if I never had any girls. The "morning sickness" genes I have to pass on seem less than desirable. Eugenics, anyone? (I'm against that, for the record!) And then there's the whole modesty-even-though-you're-too-young-to-understand-the-point issue. I had at least one million arguments with my mom over this...
On the other hand, I had been thinking that it'd be nice to have a daughter to bathe me when I'm eighty five (if needed), so if, by God's grace, I manage to raise her to love Him, and eventually me, then at least I have that base covered. =) Plus, now when I go to Target, I get to look at the clearance section and find cutie little things like this.
Don't judge me for buying her something already. I didn't buy one article of clothing for Spencer until he was here and actually needing one (outgrowing gifts, etc.), but I'm not that person anymore. I'm a sick, sleep-deprived mother of a toddler, and honestly, a little unstable. And they're not newborn outfits, they're 9 and 12 month--for next summer--when she's running around giggling and making me want another baby--thinking happy thoughts...
Anyway, there you have it. In case by some gross oversight you've managed to miss all my whining, Spencer and I have continued to be sick. Truly sick, not medium sick. Plus, don't forget, I'm pregnant. (I know, I never mention it!) So, yeah, we're surviving; but certainly not thriving. I've been a wreck. If I were like this in "real life" (it's starting to feel like I am), I'm not sure what I'd do. Truly. I guess I'd go to therapy every day. Not physical therapy. Emotional therapy--and maybe some respiratory therapy, lol!
Her profile picture taken by the sonographer is not nearly as clear or well-positioned as Spencer's was, even on their brand new machine loaded with brand new software. Wanna hear why? According to the sonographer, she is so active that it's hard to get a good shot. Wow. Not comforting! Ha!
Apparently bones casts shadows on the ultrasound, so if they are very wiggly the whole time it makes it harder to get good pictures. I asked questions during the ultrasound, but none of them had anything to do with what I just told you. Kelly offered all that information on her own initiative. That was her first and main impression of my baby daughter. Again, wow.
Please note the little crossed ankles in both pictures.
I'm hesitant to admit how I felt when we found out Spencer was a boy. But I will, 'cause why hold back at this point? I was relieved. It just felt like so much less pressure. And I know, intellectually, that's not really fair. I know every child, whether boy or girl, has their own strengths, weaknesses, areas they need more "help" in than others, etc. I know it's not truly "harder" to have one than the other. But I can think of many reasons why it might be a little harder for me to have a girl--I won't list them now.
And my own feelings aside, being a girl is hard. Have you read about my pregnancies? At times I find myself thinking the whole human race would be much better off if I never had any girls. The "morning sickness" genes I have to pass on seem less than desirable. Eugenics, anyone? (I'm against that, for the record!) And then there's the whole modesty-even-though-you're-too-young-to-understand-the-point issue. I had at least one million arguments with my mom over this...
On the other hand, I had been thinking that it'd be nice to have a daughter to bathe me when I'm eighty five (if needed), so if, by God's grace, I manage to raise her to love Him, and eventually me, then at least I have that base covered. =) Plus, now when I go to Target, I get to look at the clearance section and find cutie little things like this.
Don't judge me for buying her something already. I didn't buy one article of clothing for Spencer until he was here and actually needing one (outgrowing gifts, etc.), but I'm not that person anymore. I'm a sick, sleep-deprived mother of a toddler, and honestly, a little unstable. And they're not newborn outfits, they're 9 and 12 month--for next summer--when she's running around giggling and making me want another baby--thinking happy thoughts...
5/10/11
You Knew That You Knew It Wouldn't Work...And Tried It Anyway
I'm going out on a limb and saying that Claritin is not an effective anti-histimine for Spencer. It's never worked for me, so I don't know why I'm surprised that it doesn't work for him. I know this will sound arrogant, but I'm going to say it anyway (ha! what does that say?): I don't understand why I listen to other people.
I know. How annoying is that to even read? But when I have an opinion about something, or, should I say, when I have already given something a trial run, or a good deal or research and thought, or when I've already experienced or tried something out and have no trouble remembering the outcome, why do I reconsider it when someone recommends it to me? I don't know. Because CLEARLY I don't have a problem being overly humble about my opinions! I think a lot of it is insecurity.
I can be positive that I "know" something. But then, I'm not positive. I have maybe 0.5% doubt. Then, I start thinking again--the best way to ruin all good, solid, common-sense acquired wisdom. And eventually, I decide my thoughts, or my "trial," or my research was probably not as comprehensive as it could have been. And I shouldn't be so arrogant as to ignore good, "professional" advice, given in good faith. So, I take it. I take the advice or the suggestion.
And then (here I go being all arrogant again) I'm reminded why I hadn't gone down this road in the first place.
Now, you think I'd leave it at that. "Que sera, sera!" Tried it (again). Tried it (against my better judgement). And now I KNOW that's not what I need to do.
And then I start thinking about the money I just wasted. The time and energy I used when I should have been at the grocery store. The emotional energy spent going through the pointless exercise all over again.
So, this is my note to myself: if you know something isn't true, doesn't work, and / or doesn't make a "hill o' beans difference" stop trying it anyway! No matter who suggested it. And number two, if, against your own advice, you end up thinkin' again and rehashing how you knew it wasn't going to work and you should never have tried it in the first place...
MOVE ON.
P.S. I was not compensated in any way by any of Claritin's competitors.
I know. How annoying is that to even read? But when I have an opinion about something, or, should I say, when I have already given something a trial run, or a good deal or research and thought, or when I've already experienced or tried something out and have no trouble remembering the outcome, why do I reconsider it when someone recommends it to me? I don't know. Because CLEARLY I don't have a problem being overly humble about my opinions! I think a lot of it is insecurity.
I can be positive that I "know" something. But then, I'm not positive. I have maybe 0.5% doubt. Then, I start thinking again--the best way to ruin all good, solid, common-sense acquired wisdom. And eventually, I decide my thoughts, or my "trial," or my research was probably not as comprehensive as it could have been. And I shouldn't be so arrogant as to ignore good, "professional" advice, given in good faith. So, I take it. I take the advice or the suggestion.
And then (here I go being all arrogant again) I'm reminded why I hadn't gone down this road in the first place.
Now, you think I'd leave it at that. "Que sera, sera!" Tried it (again). Tried it (against my better judgement). And now I KNOW that's not what I need to do.
And then I start thinking about the money I just wasted. The time and energy I used when I should have been at the grocery store. The emotional energy spent going through the pointless exercise all over again.
So, this is my note to myself: if you know something isn't true, doesn't work, and / or doesn't make a "hill o' beans difference" stop trying it anyway! No matter who suggested it. And number two, if, against your own advice, you end up thinkin' again and rehashing how you knew it wasn't going to work and you should never have tried it in the first place...
MOVE ON.
P.S. I was not compensated in any way by any of Claritin's competitors.
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