Friday, May 28, 2010

A night at the GotFam household:

Carter yelling in his crib (this was actually taken yesterday after his nap)

8pm - Carter doesn’t want to go to bed. I read him two books and sing a song and then tell him that it’s “night night” time. He at least allows me to put him into his crib (yea yea…judge me…he’s still in his crib). But he would like everyone to know that he wasn't happy about it.

9pm – He’s still awake and pretty pissed off that he’s in his crib. Although – he’s also ridiculously tired…he still wants me to know that he’s angry that he’s in bed and can hear the neighborhood kids right outside his window playing. I don't blame him. I equate this to people drinking beer right in front of me when I'm pregnant. Aholes.

9:45pm – He wakes up. Not sure why. But he wakes up yelling for “Dog-Go” (our dog Layla). And then it turns into screaming, and then a little talk about a “big truck.” I let him wind himself back down and don’t bother going into check on him – since he sounds ok.

10:30 pm – He wakes up again. But this time he’s frantically screaming. So I run upstairs and into his room to find him sitting in his crib clinging to his blanket yelling “Maw Maw.” I scoop him up and tell him he’s ok. And I sit down with him in the rocking chair.

10:45pm – Still rocking. This is my fault. He’s passed out. I’m tearing up because he’s my little baby – and I’m worried that he’s going to be hurt or angry when his sister is born.

11:30pm – I text Chad (who’s out after a softball game) that I can’t stop laughing because the weather man just drew (what looks to be) a …uhh…male organ shape around the weather front. Only Chad would appreciate this as much as I do.

11:35pm – I’m still laughing about the weather man.

12:00am – I wake up to the ridiculously loud sound of terrible pop music. Where the hell is this coming from. I check the tv, I check all around the room…it’s coming from Carter’s monitor. What the crap is he doing in there now?!

12:02am – I run into Carter’s room to find that his clock had accidentally been bumped – and the radio alarm was set for midnight. He’s still passed out.

12:03am – I’m awake now…so I may as well watch tv. I watch an infomercial about a device called “the ninja” that looks like the magic bullet. Whatever ninja…kiss my magic bullets ass.

12:37am – I have a leg cramp (a lovely side effect of pregnancy). I pace…and then pee (another side effect of pregnancy).

1:28am – I have to pee again.

2:14am – I wake up to the sound of an alarm going off. Crap…it’s our security alarm. Why does this thing keep tweaking itself? I jump out of bed and punch in the security code to stop it. I go right back to bed … without even checking to see if any windows or doors had been tampered with. Opps.

2:47am – I have to pee again.

3:36am – Carter wakes up again. This time he sounds like he may have had a nightmare. He’s screaming for me again. I run in. He’s clinging to his blanket again. I check all around his room for the cat…wondering if maybe he was hiding in there somewhere and kept waking Carter up. No cat. I pick up Carter and we rock more…and I cry more … and he passes out again.

6:45am – My internal clock wakes me up. Nobody else in the house is up yet. I watch more infomercials. This time it’s a product that shapes side/butt chub. I guess it’s claim to fame is that it gets rid of chubby women’s muffin tops. I should invest in this for after the baby’s born.

Thursday, May 27, 2010

A real conversation from my last dr’s appt:

Dr (during a routine ultrasound): Baby’s heart beat and breathing are good … fluid level is ... adequate.

Me: Adequate?

Dr: Yes, adequate

Me: That doesn’t sound good

Dr: No…it’s adequate

Me: So should I be worried?

Dr: Only if I said it wasn’t adequate

Me: Ummm ... ok. So, I feel like you’re telling me that something could be wrong…and using a nice word to go about it

Dr: No, I’m telling you that everything is fine

Me: So we’re having a definition problem?

Dr (now staring at me blankly): uhhh…

Me: Because if someone told me that I did an adequate job at something – I would want to know how I could improve…and do better. But I don't quite know how to improve upon my fluid levels. In fact - it tweaks me out to think about it.

Dr: That’s really a different context though

Me: Ok…so if my doctor told me I was in adequate health, I would ask what I could do to improve my health

Dr: Ok (sounding annoyed) ... the fluid level is fine. It’s fine…it’s where it should be.

Me: Fine is a much better word for me.

Wednesday, May 26, 2010

Wordless Wednesday

Ok ... I have a few words.

I'm a million weeks pregnant - so if you have a bone to pick with me about not posting a lot of well thought-out posts ... well, i'm a million weeks pregnant - so it's not gonna happen. And really, you should thank me. Even if I started to type something out - I'd forget what I was talking about half way into my post ... and leave you disappointed anyways.

I will return to my ranting-self soon enough though. Don't you worry.
Until then ... please enjoy these pictures.
A recent park visit:

A recent afternoon of playing in the sprinkler:

Sunday, May 23, 2010

Cleveland Public Theatre: Part 2

Who's the lucky boy that got to go back to CPT to play on the stage and look at lights more?
You guessed it ... Carter (it pays to have uncles in high places).

Thanks Uncle Trad!

Blogging from the ‘Burbs of Cleveland:

When we decided to move to the suburbs…we really put a lot of time and thought into it. We went back and forth about whether or not we wanted to be … livin' in the 'burbs. Where people all drive look alike cars, all try to one-up one another, sit around on their porches drinking beer (ok...we really liked this one), discussed reality tv ad nauseam, held management jobs, you know all the stereotypical things (sound judgemental...well, we didn't know any better - you can't help but form opinions - we all know that there is some phenomenon that happens where you think that everywhere else that people live is somewhat weird or whacky).

And we thought, well…we already sit around on our porch drinking beer…and at least Carter will have someplace safe to play and a good school system…so – question answered. We moved.

And we have been really happy with our decision.

But I have to point something out. There is no less crime here than there was in Lakewood. Well, allow me to be more specific. There is no less crime here – that directly affects us – than there was in Lakewood.

In Lakewood – we had one break-in attempt.
In Strongsville – my car actually was broken into – and someone stole the garage door opener…and came back (does that count as a second break in?)

In Lakewood – we saw the police at our neighbors house quite often (he was a drug dealer…it’s to be expected)
In Strongsville – we have had the police at our house (but for stupid stuff…like nosey neighbors being “nervous about the number of cars on the street.”). Also - we tend to have police in our neighborhood a lot (when bored/spoiled kids break into people's garages looking for beer - gotta give the kids credit though...very creative way to get beer).

In Lakewood – we had helicopters flying over one afternoon looking for an escaped criminal who was on foot ... but he never came near our house.
In Strongsville – we had the Swat team in our neighbor’s back yard tackling a man who had just held a hostage in his house for hours yesterday.

Yup…the Swat team – with snipers and all. In Strongsville. In our development – tackling a man in our neighbor’s backyard…which butts up to our backyard. All as I vacuumed and was totally oblivious to everything – while Chad and Carter were gone. Shows how much I notice.

So the next time someone spews their mouth about how the ‘burbs are soooo much safer than the city (like I always thought)…let them know that it’s all relative. Because - I always thought the 'burbs were one big happy bubble of white picket fences and safe haven....nope. My kid could have been playing on the slip and slide as the Swat team ran through the yard with snipers yesterday.

I guess my point is ... shit happens everywhere.... so like the porch that you're drinkin' beer on. That's what matters.

We have a really cool porch.

Saturday, May 22, 2010

Little thrones of judgement

For the past three days, I have been having contractions (that were somewhat far apart…so nothing terrible to worry about) and back cramping (that is pure annoyance). So, last night, when it got a little worse…we started to worry.

Chad started to worry because I refused to finish packing my hospital bag, because his mom was at an Indian’s game and we were not sure who we would have watch Carter and because well…it could be an emergency c-section (all rational worries).

Not me. I had another set of worries ... that went something like this:
- the nursery isn’t 100% done
- the laundry isn’t done
- the floors need to be cleaned again
- I haven’t done my last stock-up grocery run…and I know we need muffin cups…and by saying “we NEED” is an understatement…I feel like we HAVE to have them in this house…even if we don’t plan to make muffins.
- and my effing toilets have calcium stains…because I haven’t cleaned them in the last 6 days….yup…calcium stains…who brings a baby into this world with calcium stained toilets?

So you can see who was thinking rationally.

But seriously…what if my toilets were all gross and I went into labor…next thing ya know – a million people are at our house to meet the new little baby…and they’re all judging me and my mothering capabilities by my toilets. They’re not just places to dispose of waste people – they’re little thrones of judgment.

Another totally unrelated photo post. But really, wouldn't you rather see a cute picture of Carter smiling - instead of a picture of me freaking out about my toilets? Or better yet - a picture of my toilets? Because you know i'd do that ...

Tuesday, May 18, 2010

Baby Girl Update:

Our dr’s visit this week brought good/exciting news. We’re officially out of the water for any premie worries. Our little girl is officially "full term" … although the dr is still going to make us wait until my scheduled c-section date (because he's a man ... and has never been this pregnant).

A few other things we learned:
- Baby girl is around 7 pounds right now – and the dr is predicting that she will be about the same size that Carter was when he was born (roughly 7-11)
- She is sitting in the correct position (head down)…but is straight up and down – which accounts for some of my discomfort
- Some of my other discomfort is caused by the fact that her one foot is firmly planted into my liver (no worries baby, mommy has done a lot of damage to that particular organ too)

All in all – a successful visit. Now…we sit…and wait…and I eat…and get fat …er.

Saturday, May 15, 2010

Pregnancy Weight Gain

In an effort to know how much weight was "normal" to gain during pregnancy ... I resorted to a google search. Now, I know I make fun of people that randomly search google for any form of information... but this actually came from a reputable site.

This breaks down pregnancy weight gain:

  • Baby: 7-8 pounds
  • Placenta: 1-2 pounds
  • Amniotic fluid: 2 pounds
  • Uterus: 2 pounds
  • Maternal breast tissue: 2 pounds
  • Maternal blood : 4 pounds
  • Fluids in maternal tissue: 4 pounds
  • Maternal fat and nutrient stores: 7 pounds

    Total: 29-31 pounds

Say it with me ... Holy Shit. AND - they left out the oreo weight. That has to be at least an extra few pounds ... in double stuffed goodness.

That's My Boy

That's my boy. In the front window - with his diaper pulled down, pants off, and socks half off.

I let this go - because afterall ... half of his clothes are still on. AND - he's not peeing on the window (laugh, but he's done that before). I call this, picking my battles.

Tuesday, May 11, 2010

I want my baby back baby back baby back…

Ok, no I don’t want baby back ribs. But I can’t talk about ribs without singing that song to myself.

Our daughter has done something to one of my ribs. Whether she bruised it, fractured it, cracked it (is that even different than saying “fractured”), drilled a hole in it and stuffed a note in it for the next baby to read…I don’t know.

But I can’t sneeze, cough, lift my arm above my head, breath in or out, walk up straight, etc without wanting to cry. Yes, I want to cry. And the most frustrating part is – I can’t have an x-ray to see what is really wrong with it, I can’t take pain medicine for it, and my jackass OB doctor didn’t even address it when I brought it up (he just indicated that “it happens…la la la”).

So I guess our baby’s a fighter, a kicker, or is just large. It’s ok baby girl…you break whatever you need to break…you come from a long line of claustrophobic women…so none of us blame you for freaking out in there every so's cramped - and you're surrounded by bodily fluids - mommy gets it.

The post where I sound vain about my size…and totally forget about the big picture here.

I’m large. Large Large Large. I have packed away my skinny girl clothing (in places where I can’t see them mocking me), pulled out the fugly sports-bra looking contraptions for when baby girl is born, filled my drawers with oversized t-shirts, granny panties, socks with tread on the bottom (so that when I am carrying a baby in my arms and dragging a toddler from my legs down the stairs…I don’t trip), weird creams, and hair ties (since my hair won’t be down for another 3-4 months).

If you’re shaking your head…you haven’t recently had a baby. If you have recently had a baby – I applaud you if you wear your hair down, wear normal looking under garments, or jeans that actually zip up – rather than pull up with a big stretchy band at the top. You are a far better person than I.

I just have to keep telling myself that one day I will pull out that big bin of skinny girl clothes…and it will be like Christmas morning (unless stuff doesn’t fit…and then all hell will break loose). One day I will wear a swimming suit again, one day I will wear a skirt again, one day I will wear my hair down again, one day I will wear heels again, and one day…well…one day I will go on a date with my husband and he will be all “my wife’s hot” again (he may tell you he feels like that now…but we all know he wonders if I would roll if he pushed me hard enough).

Note: there will be no picture for this post. Because i don't need another picture of me...large

The potty is so dead to him

In my head (which contained very little baby/toddler information prior to having Carter (seriously…I never even babysat as a teenager…I so have no idea what I’m doing 90% of the time)) potty training started around the age of 3. But, in my head…one day Carter would rip off his diaper, run to the potty, use it (the right way), wipe himself, wash his hands, and then frolic off as if it were second nature to him. Feel free to judge how skewed things are in my head.

I really had no idea that there was this struggle that went on between parent and toddler about where to place their waste. And I had no idea that it would drive a parent to do potty dances, make up potty songs, talk about the potty ALL THE TIME, go to the bathroom in front of their toddler to help increase potty-awareness, or create charts to entice (read: bribe with stickers) their toddler to crap in the right spot.

I was willing to wait until we could communicate with Carter about the potty more.

Nope…he wanted to know about the potty a few months ago (at 18 months old to be exact). He was curious. There was this weird porcelain fixture in his bathroom that had water in it – and he wasn’t allowed to float boats in it, put the cat in it, or splash in it…so naturally…he wanted to know what exactly this thing was for. So I gave in. I bought him a potty seat and started to potty train him.

He sits on the potty most mornings or afternoons (after his nap) while he has a sippy cup and I sing potty songs - which has led to a lot of potty usage.

We were pretty excited to think that just maybe ... he would be potty trained by the time baby #2 (no pun intended) arrived. No such luck. Now that we have been discussing a new baby – he’s reverting somewhat and wants nothing to do with the potty now. So, I guess my pipe dreams of throwing his diapers out the window and telling them to “suck it” are all down the tubes. Oh well. Another day.


You have probably seen in pictures and heard me mention our dog before. Her name is Layla. She is a 60-70lb (depending on how good her week was) sheppard/black lab mix. She’s really a very very good dog. And she is unquestionably Carter’s best friend.

Carter wakes up every morning asking for “DogGo” (which he has named her). He chases her, they sing together, they run in the yard and play soccer together, you name it ... and those two are into it (trash cans, laundry baskets, food on the floor, etc). And when I say that Layla puts up with a lot…it’s truly an understatement. Carter isn’t always gentle…and Layla just lovingly takes whatever he dishes out.

Lately though, I haven’t been the best doggy mommy. When I am pregnant, I tend to have a short fuse with our dog and cat. They always seem to be throwing up, pooping, or dragging food around on the floor exactly where I just cleaned…and my nesting instincts want to explode. And Layla has some interesting Layla-isms (yes yes, who doesn’t have ism’s? I have my fair share – trust me).
Layla is scared of water (rain), wind, squeaky doors, the cat when he’s in a bad mood (who isn’t), hot air balloons, and some men (although - this seems to trace back to when she was in a shelter before my husband adopted her).

So yes, when it’s raining out – and I can’t convince the dog to go outside because she refuses to get wet…I get annoyed. And when she non-stop barks at the fedex man (who comes every single day at the exact same time…when Carter is sleeping) I want to scream.

But Layla is a good dog. A very very good dog - whom I love very much. And she is a very important member of this family - with whom we wouldn’t know what to do without.
So send Layla happy thoughts today – she had to go into surgery for her teeth (apparently dogs can have genetically bad teeth just like people can) as well as some tumors (on her leg, in her mammary gland and on her side).

We love you Layla!!

Sunday, May 9, 2010

Happy Mother's Day

My messy messy little man. Love love love him!

On this mother’s day, I seem to be having a hard time finding the words I want to say about being a mom. How do you effectively communicate what it means to be a mom? How do you put into words how you feel about your children and family? How can I type out the words that say how much I love Carter? How do I express how excited I am to meet our baby girl?

The answer is, I just can’t. I have tried ... I've typed it out multiple times. And I can’t make a post that says enough how much I love my family and how honored I feel to be Carter’s mommy and our soon-to-be daughters mommy. I am a very very lucky woman.

I will just say this, I love being a mom…there honestly is nothing better in the world.

And, I would like to post a quote that I have always loved:

You don't really understand human nature unless you know why a child on a merry-go-round will wave at his parents every time around - and why his parents will always wave back.
William D. Tammeus

Thursday, May 6, 2010

We have a Janice

Disclaimer: I am already not proud of this post. It makes me sound mean and judgey. But, in my defense…I’m pregnant…and when something annoys me – it seems to be amplified by 100 times. So…allow me this rant.
Also - for those of you that have never watched the show Friends…this post won’t mean much to you.

For that – my apologies.

Chad and I have a Janice. One that I fear we will have until we move. Allow me to explain. A few months ago – a girl joined the baby gym that I bring Carter to. And about two days later…I switched classes. I don’t typically get annoyed with people that quickly…but she was THAT ANNOYING. Plus, Carter was old enough to bump him up to the next class (at least that’s what I told everyone).

Well, it wasn’t that easy to shake her (or the memory of her voice ... and sheer volume).

Chad would bring Carter to open gym at his baby gym in the evenings and would come home and talk about this girl that seemed to know Carter and I. And I kept asking, “what does she look like, what’s her name, what’s her daughters name?” And none of his answers seemed to fit any of my mommy/nanny/caregiver friends from my previous class…so I chalked it up as pregnancy brain and thought I had forgotten about one of the nice people in class. NOPE. It was our Janice.

Our Janice has one of those raspy (coulda-chain-smoked-for-the-last-50-years) voices…and when I say she’s not quiet…I mean...the girl is so freaking loud that you could probably hear her right now if you opened a window near you (no matter where you live in the country…or out of the country for that matter).

And to make matters worse…her dad is on the board of our home owners association (I know this because she spews off her entire life story to ANYONE that will listen (read: anyone she traps)). Who recalls my run-ins with the home owners association?

And our Janice is everywhere. I feel like I may find her in my bathroom one night during one of my midnight emergency prego pee trips.

And to make matters even worse yet – she is one of those “has to look like she knows everyone” people.

So when she appeared in my new baby gym class the other day…I was livid. Why won’t our Janice go away? I switched classes again and said it was because Carter was old enough for the next level class again. Is this the rest of my life in Strongsville – bumping Carter up grades as fast as I can so that I can avoid our Janice? Oh gosh, am I that self-centered?

I have to avoid her though (at least while pregnant and hormonal). Because she says idiotic things that make me want to explode. Here are (just) two (recent) examples:

1.) In the middle of the last baby gym class that she and I were both in – she said to me (very loudly), “I see your husband everywhere – we’re like always at the park together, we like see each other at open gym, it’s so funny how we’re always seeing each other.” And I just glared at her wanting to scream, “you saw my husband at the park once…and open gym twice – stop announcing it like you two just bought charm bracelet charms with each others names on it.”

2.) She (and her pregnant friend) had a mini-intervention (they scolded me in front of a ton of people) with me at the baby gym because I bounce on toys with Carter. And this is (in their heads) a bad thing to do when pregnant. Yup…I play on toys with my son. I’m a terrible mother.

And that is the story of our Janice. I see her (and run from her) at grocery stores, she goes to the same baby gym, she hangs out at the same parks, her dad is one of the aholes on our home owners association board….ohh…and she drives a hummer (in the words of Chandler, “could she be more obnoxious?”)

Note: I don't have a picture for this post (because posting her picture would be wrong and unethical...although slightly funny). Instead, enjoy this very random and completely unrelated picture of Carter eating his first Oreo.

Wednesday, May 5, 2010

35 week belly picture

As promised, a new belly picture. Allow me to throw in this disclaimer ... it feels much larger than it looks. Much much much larger.

Let the countdown begin ... 4 weeks to go.

Tuesday, May 4, 2010

Sunday, May 2, 2010

Do you ever feel like you’re talking to a wall:

A night at the gotfam residence:

- I wake up sweating profusely (I typically never sweat and am always cold when I sleep). I drink some water to see if that helps. Nope
- Still sitting on the edge of the bed, I feel like I’m spinning. Am I drunk? Is this college?
- My stomach is cramping, my back is cramping, I’m dizzy…and I feel like I may throw up.

Who’s sexy?

- I text chad (who fell asleep on the couch downstairs) “I need help”
…..No response….
- Damnit (I think to myself)…now I have to walk my fat, sweaty, dizzy ass downstairs.
- Chad calls my doctor. At this point, I’m in tears because my stomach and back are cramping so bad.
- The on call doctor (whom I have never met) calls back and is acting terribly annoyed.

Bitchy doctor: tell me again what is happening
Me: I’m 35 weeks pregnant, my stomach is cramping, my back is cramping, I’m dizzy and nauseous, and I am sweating but keep feeling cold.
Bitchy doctor: have you been drinking water?
Me: Are you serious? Yes…yes I have been drinking water – this isn’t dehydration.
Bitchy Doctor: It sounds like a blood sugar issue. All classic symptoms.
Me: I doubt that too – I had a big meal and even snacked more before bed, and I’ve been drinking water all day – I just don’t think this is dehydration or blood…..
Bitchy Doctor (interrupting me): maybe eat something
Me: uck - I don’t feel hungry…that’s not why I’m calling
Bitchy Doctor: Maybe some crackers with peanut butter. Or anything with peanut butter
Me: WHAT? W H A T ?? I don’t see how peanut butter will help this situation.
Bitchy Doctor: well, you can go to the hospital if you want … but they’re just going to give you an iv and send you home.
Me: Well, I had preterm labor with my last pregnancy…should I be concerned?
Bitchy Doctor: I don’t know
Me: O K ... So, what if this is still going on in an hour or two?
Bitchy Doctor: I don’t know…then go to the hospital if you want.
Me: this is ridiculous…thanks so much for your time….bye
Bitchy Doctor: bye

There are no words.