Implode

Do you ever feel like your life is going to implode?   Some days, I wish a truck would take me out in one big swoop.

Every day has somehow gotten progressively worse than the day before.  I know there is an end in sight (we have chosen a new babysitter who we started with last Tuesday), but I feel like my life is always going to be like this and it’s only going to get worse when we add another kid.

I know my hormones are out of whack.  I know I’ve been thrown some curve balls that are out of the ordinary.  I know we are still trying to get settled in our new house.  All of these things compiled are driving me to the nut house.

This morning, it was Kenzie throwing a tantrum because she didn’t want to wear the outfit that I let her pick out the night before.  Yes, you read that right.  She fucking picked out the outfit!  And then her complaint was that she wanted to wear ALL THE CLOTHES.  I gave her the option to choose between two outfits for her Valentine’s Day party at school.  So I must have misunderstood when she picked one, she meant EVERYTHING.  She wanted to go to school like Joey wearing ALL of Chandler’s clothes.  WTF.

I had woken up extra early to finish putting her valentines together.  This year, we did scratch and sniff valentines that she wrote her name on herself, and then colored a pretty picture on each envelope.  Then, I tied a container of Silly Putty to each envelope.  I thought it was going to be a good day.  Then the girls wake up.  They start sneezing and coughing.  They both get pissed when they are congested and can’t breathe so kicking and screaming and crying ensue.

I need to figure something out.

Here we are, the next week, and nothing has gotten better.  I cried a decent amount last night, after the kids fell asleep.  Then I couldn’t sleep for hours because I kept thinking about what a shitshow everything has turned into.

Kenzie once again did not want to wear what I asked her to wear this morning.  She threw the outfit and then kicked and hit me with a stuffed animal.  You guys, I almost lost it.  I had to walk away.  We were already late because she didn’t want to listen.  Maddy was standing downstairs acting perfect with her jacket on.  It’s always one of them that has to push it.  I collapsed in the bathroom crying.  Trying to decide if I should just give in and take a day off.  Maybe just quit my job.  At some point, I snapped out of it and got the girls in the car.

Now just to keep things interesting, Maddy has been fighting a cold since last week.  I was worried about her lungs and ears, so I thought I’d bring her in for a quick doctor’s appt on Monday afternoon to see if her ears were infected or if there was any wheezing in her lungs (she had pneumonia once before, so I always worry when I hear her cough getting worse).  She had been waking herself up coughing, and it scares me.  So the doctor checked her ears and lungs.  No fever at all, so no need to check for flu or strep.  All clear.  Just another virus (can’t even tell you how many times they’ve quoted that to me).  Fast forward to Tuesday night.  She’s crying telling me her left ear hurts horribly.  I feel her forehead and take her temp.  103.  1-0-fucking-3.   So I give her Tylenol and lay with her until she’s ready to eat something (she took no interest in dinner).  I called first thing Wednesday morning (another day I had to take from work, aka my maternity leave which will be non-existent when I have babe 3) and got her in at 10 a.m.

Oh look at that.  BOTH OF HER EARS ARE INFECTED NOW.  So much for preventative maintenance.  Cue the crying again (just me, this time – both girls were great during the doctor visits and going back home).

We’re on the mend now, I sincerely hope.  My mom has both girls today.  I figured if Maddy was still in pain, I wanted her to be cuddled and loved on, and new babysitter can’t do that with 15 other kids.

I wish I could drink.  I just want one beer.  Like a Corona with two limes.  Dear husband won’t allow it even though my OB said one drink every now and then is not bad.   PS: I’m not an alcoholic.

Sorry for the never-ending rant.  I know it’s not the end of the world and things could be worse (LOL).  So I cry and wait for my life to implode.  That’s what us moms do, right?

Babysitter Blues

So, I got a call from our in-home babysitter Monday night.  She got some bad medical news.  Her doctor advised her to stop working immediately, as she should be lifting anything (including kids/ babies).  Cut to Tuesday.  I brought the girls to work with me from 10 until 2.  You can only keep a 4 and 2 year old busy in an office for so long before shit starts to go down.

To say I am upset is an understatement.  I’ve been crying on and off every night.  I wake up and I hope that it was just a nightmare.  This woman has become part of our family, and even like a second mom to me.  She has had the insane task of bringing up my two girls.  She basically potty trained them.  She is a way better mom than I am.

I have two interviews set up for Friday.  One woman currently watches 15 kids.  AT HER HOUSE.  So that’s concerning, but I have to remember that some of those kids go to school during the day.  The woman seemed older, which isn’t necessarily bad, but also just concerning to take care of that many kids.  She said she has help, but I’ll need to find out who is helping her, too.

The second interview seems like someone who randomly decided to start babysitting on the side.  She only has two kids right now.  She said her husband is around to help most of the time.  Which begs the question…what does he do for a living?  Why are you both able to be home all the time?

I have also called a day care that came highly recommended.  All ages have “very long” waiting lists.  So forget that.

And Kenzie starts kindergarten next year IN ANOTHER STATE, so I’ll have to either find after care for her or someone else who can pick her up before I get home with the other kids.  Like seriously, who has a life like this?  What the fuck?

You guys, I am so close to quitting my job.  It seems like the only option.  If we wouldn’t have just built a house, and didn’t have another baby on the way, and didn’t need to buy a new car to be able to fit three fucking car seats in, maybe I would be in a better place to do so.  I just don’t know what to do.  Or, maybe I take FMLA now for a little while so I can figure shit out, only to take more FMLA later after baby is born?

Even if I did end up liking one of the potential candidates enough, could I really just throw my kids into this person’s care for 40 hours per week?  How would I expect my kids to be comfortable with them?  I’d want to slowly start them like maybe two days per week to see how things go.  And what if it doesn’t work out?  I am back in the same place.

I am just so sad.  It’s all I can think about at work, when I try to fall asleep, when I wake up.  I need a miracle or to win the lottery.  Either will do.

Christmas with the Cassidy Family

I remember so much about getting ready for Christmas as a kid.  It was easily my favorite time of the year.

My parents would pull these big brown barrels and totes out of the crawlspace.  Each one was full of Christmas decorations, ornaments, lights, you name it.   And it all had a special, Christmas-y smell to it.

Some of my favorite things to unpack were the snow globes.  We had about six of them.  My favorite was one that played Silent Night.  It had glittery/ shimmery fairy dust that was supposed to be snow.  It had a light wooden base and smelled like coconut.  Another one was an actual box that was pretty red and green with santa designs all over it.  You opened the box and santa popped up, like a jack-in-the-box.  This one was my brother’s favorite.  We set them up throughout the house and would go around shaking them and winding them up so they would all play music at the same time.  We were so cool.

We always had a fake Christmas tree for the most part (until we realized real trees were a thing!).  The tree we had was pre-lit and had character!  One set of the lights would blink after they got warmed up, but only that one section of the tree.  This was my favorite part of the tree.  My mom usually put that part against the wall, and it would make the wall blink.

My Grandpa once gifted each family with a set of lights (from Service Merchandise at the time, I think), and to me, they were the BEST lights.  They were indoor lights, and the same ones that he had decorating the interior of his house.  These fancy lights had little control box that allowed for SIX settings.  You could make them twinkle, chase, leave them on solid colors, or, my personal favorite, FADE in and out.  This was easily the coolest setting.

The exterior lights were also a big favorite of mine.  I would lay awake in bed and leave my blinds open so I could see my neighbors’ lights on across the street.  My dad would put the old school large bulb multi-color lights on the house and on our Christmas tree in the front of the house.  That was until, of course, the icicle lights became the fad.  We would decorate our big picture window with gold lights on the interior, and my mom had these cling decorative art things (before they were crazy popular).  They weren’t gel clings like you see now, but just flat plastic pieces that you would spread out on the window to create the tree and ornaments.

We also had a Lionel passenger train that we set up at the bottom of the Christmas tree each year.  It had a control box and you could make it go as fast as you’d want, but then it would consistently derail.  When the train was on the tracks and running, the passenger cars had lights that would go on and you could see the outline of people sitting on the train.  My favorite part.  Sadly, I think this train is probably in my parents’ crawlspace.  I told my mom to get cracking this weekend.  We are almost ready to move into our new house, and now is the time for her to purge the decorations that she might not want.  I want to make Christmas just as magical for my kids.

One of he other best parts of Christmas was FREE CABLE.  Well, it wasn’t free, but there was always a holiday deal that offered free installation and start up I think.  So we never had cable during the year, but when Christmas came, my parents would order it only for the months of December and January, until the deal was up.  Every year, we would get so excited when that pretty little cable box would appear on top of our giant Zenith TV.  Our favorite channel was Nickelodeon.  Are You Afraid of the Dark, Rugrats, Ren & Stimpy, Clarissa Explains it All, Doug, What Would You Do, Salute Your Shorts, and my all-time favorite, HEY DUDE!….  And then they had Nick at Nite, which also played some of my faves, like I Love Lucy, The Wonder Years, Mary Tyler Moore, and Bewitched!  I remember in the mornings getting ready for school, I would also put on VH1 in the mornings.  I think it was called JumpStart?  And I remember clearly the videos for Natalie Merchant’s “Carnival” on most mornings.  Also, Janet Jackson’s “Runaway”!  So it must have been 1995 – so would have been 5th/ 6th grade time frame.  CRAZY.  But I remember it so well.  My kids will probably never know the struggle of not being able to watch exactly what they want without commercials, let alone not having the luxury of cable and having to watch 2, 5, 7, and 9, etc.

Love love love the Christmas season!

Preschool Open House Shit Show

I’m writing this about a year later because I don’t want to forget how great this story is.

I remember it vividly.  It was orientation for Kenzie’s first year of preschool.  It was a Wednesday evening.  My husband and I both worked full days while the girls were at Mary’s.  We got Noodles & Company for dinner and went to my mom’s to eat (she lives very close to the preschool/ my work/ Mary’s house).  We had about 45 minutes to eat and head to her school (I wanted to get there a little early).

I knew Kenzie was going to be shy.  I was prepared for that.  But I was not prepared for what would happen next.

They have you in this holding area in the basement before they open the doors to let you in.  Picture this:  Families with their kids (and babies) all scrunched into a hallway/ stairs waiting to get in.  My anxiety was already up there, but that did me in.

They finally let us in, and they explain where each class should go (they have both 3 year old and 4 year old classes).  We got in line for our class.  Kenzie was very shy and quiet, just watching all the action around her.  I was kind of doing the same.

They then let us into what would eventually be her classroom.  There were twenty children total in her class, so picture that plus all the moms and dads and some siblings, just to keep it interesting.

There came a time when the teacher asked all of the kids to sit on the carpet in the middle of the class and the parents to stand in the back while she went over a few things about the processes and what to expect for the coming year.

Kenzie sat down (against her will) and my husband and I stood on the other side.  The teacher started talking and Kenzie started to stand up.  I looked at her and motioned for her to sit her butt down.  She started to cry.  I went over to her and she starts to say, “I have to go pee pee” and then it happened.  SHE STARTED PEEING.  Right on the floor.  I picked her up as fast as I could.  She was also wearing a dress, so the pee was just coming out at an alarming rate.  That’s when I remembered that we never took her to go potty before we left my mom’s.  She drank an entire mini chocolate milk jug before we left.  FANTASTIC.  I could have avoided this.

So after I picked her up, I started sprinting for the door.  Pee is dripping all over me at this point.  I leave Mike behind to clean everything.  The whole time this is happening, the teacher doesn’t even flinch and none of the parents even move.  It was amazing.  It’s probably better that way, but holy shit was it embarrassing.  I walked out and since I had never been there before, I didn’t know where the restrooms were.  Of course, I walked the wrong way (she’s still peeing at this point).  My heart was pounding, I was sweating, and I’m pretty sure my legs were jello.

Found the bathrooms finally.  She had finished peeing by this time, but I still put her on the potty just in case.  [She was potty trained, by the way.]  Just another mom fail!  Magically, I had an extra pair of her underwear in my purse (I know, it’s like I knew this shit was going to happen).  So I was able to change her underwear and then her dress really wasn’t too bad since it was instead all over my outfit (YEAH!!!).  By the time we were done cleaning up, I walked her back into the room and the carpet time discussion was over.  Not a clue what we missed.  Mike was just putting back some cleaning spray and paper towels.  Thank God he was there, he cleaned up the giant puddle she left behind.

And then I took a deep breath and tried to recoup what was left of the evening so that we weren’t at a total loss.  Kenzie went and played at a table with a some intertwining flowers and puzzles and met her teachers.  At least they wouldn’t soon forget who she was.  Ah yes, the girl who peed everywhere on orientation night!

And over a year later, and she hasn’t had any potty accidents since then.  And now I’ve jinxed it.  Just wait for the next post 😉

Crawling Around a Public Bathroom

Well, I’ve hit a new low.

I know being a mom can be gross with the spit up, poop, sticky food, projectile puke, having to retrieve toys out of the toilet, etc.  None of that really ever bothered me.  Bothers my husband more, which is hilarious to me.

So yesterday was Monday.  When I bring my daughter to school, I walk in with her, and then I take her to the potty before she walks into her classroom (we have a 45 min ride from home, so I always make her go).  There are two stalls in the girls’ bathroom.  One is a regular-sized toilet and the other is a super short toilet which is great for the littles.  Of course, they only want to use the little potty.  So we wait in line behind two others.  These kids are slow as molasses.  But that’s okay.  It’s preschool.  Who cares if you’re late to class?   Who cares if mom is later to work than usual?

So it’s finally her turn to use the potty.  She walks in, locks the door behind her.  I’m always so proud of her for being a big girl.  She’s only 4.

So she’s in there doing her thing, and then it happens.  “Mama, I need help”….

FFFFFUUUUUUUCCCCKKKKK.  She pooped.

She’s pretty good about cleaning herself up, but sometimes needs help if she poops.  It’s hard for her to reach around.

I look at the door, and realize it’s not like the stalls that we used to have in school where a coin could be used to open the lock.  FUCK.

So what do I do?  I got on the floor and crawled under the stall.  Wearing a skirt and heels.  Almost broke my back I think.  As I was on the ground, I questioned how often they might clean it, since I could smell pee.

Dear daughter then asks as I slowly stand up, “Mama, why didn’t you just use the door?”  Oh she is hilarious.

Cleaned her butt up and then we washed hands.  Then she was pissed because her whole class had already walked into the class (she usually walks hand in hand with her friend Nora), so then she was extra shy and didn’t want to walk in by herself.  Teacher came an helped.  Maybe she saw the look of defeat on my face.

I wanted to go take a shower immediately, but it was off to work.  I washed my hands for a good three minutes upon returning to the office.  Thankfully, one of our inspectors got Dunkin Donuts, so things were starting to look up.  If this week doesn’t get better, I’m not going to make it.

 

 

Madelyn Mary Jane, Part 2

We make it up to the Labor & Delivery floor and my pants are sopping wet.  I had gray sweat pants on, so it was totally noticeable that I was having issues.  I guess people don’t question that kind of thing when you’re at a hospital though.  Just my dear husband confirming that I was sitting on a towel in his precious car on the way there.

It’s nice because once you arrive at the hospital, you just go straight up on the elevator at the side entrance- they usually want you to bypass the ER because of whatever nasty bugs are hanging out there.  You still have to be buzzed in once you get to the floor, so it is very secure.

I got the very last room.  No joke.  They called in an extra nurse just for me (maybe she lied about that just to make me feel special, but that’s what the nurse told me when she came into my room).  They were doubling up on rooms later on for laboring moms.  Everyone wanted to have babies on March 23, I guess?  I just kept picturing the scene from Friends with Rachel and Janice sharing a room and laboring together.  No fucking way.  Either way, I’m glad I called my doctor first instead of just showing up on the L & D floor.  She called them immediately and had them save a room for me.  But I’ll tell you what – as soon as Madelyn made her entrance and they checked her out, they rushed us out of that room SO FAST to the mother/ baby floor.  Probably had a line a expectant mums waiting for mine…

So back to the sequence of events…they got me settled into my room.  They told me Dr. U wasn’t on the floor yet, so I knew the nurse was going to have to “check” me to see what I was dilated to.  I had talked to my Dr about this before, because some of the nurses are so rough.  She told me I could tell the nurses that they needed to wait until Dr. came in so that she could check me.  I determined at that point that it wasn’t worth the fight.  Who the fuck cares.  So, the nurse checked me, and I think I was 3 cm.  I was still spilling fluids out of me every time I moved a muscle.  I hated that part.  I mean, who wants to sit in their own amniotic fluid?  I felt like I was peeing all over myself.  I’d be cool with it if I had already been given my epidural, because then I wouldn’t be able to feel it.

Dr. U gets there eventually and stops in and asks how I’m doing and if I was ready for my epidural.  Heck yes!  Why not?  This was the most difficult part of my first labor/ delivery (just nervous, really).  She got the fluids going since they have to pump you full of them for a good 45 mins before they can start you on the epidural.

I had asked the nurse who the anesthesiologist on call was, because I couldn’t remember who I had last time but I know I liked him.  She rattled off a few names, but none of them sounded familiar.  I remembered that the Dr’s name had something related to The OC, but couldn’t place it.  Finally, the Dr walks in ready to stick my spine and says, “Hi Melissa, I’m Dr. Cohen” in this super deep, monotone voice.  HOLY SHIT!  Seth Cohen from the OC is going to perform my epidural!  And I said, “It’s you!  You did my epidural last time!  Your wife used to live on LaGrande!”…like that wasn’t creepy.  Last time we talked when Kenzie was born, he asked me where I worked (probably to get me comfortable with him sticking me in my spine), and I told him.  He was like, “Oh no way!  My wife grew up in that city on LaGrande!” and it kind of put me at ease.  So needless to say, I was thrilled that it was the same doctor.  This time, the needle went a little easier and I didn’t move as much because I knew what to expect.  Not sure why.  Who cares – last time ever, hopefully!  They even upgraded their equipment and gave me a button to press to give myself more meds “if I felt like I needed it”..bahahaha, I pressed that sucker a few minutes after they left, just to see what would happen.  Obviously it maxes you out at some point.  But this time, I couldn’t even feel the contractions for the most part.  Well done, pain meds!

I’m going to continue to try to finish writing this now that Madelyn has turned two.  Let’s see what I can remember.  How comical.  

Oh yes, names!  God forbid we agree on any names ever.  You’d think at this point, he would just say, “you know what hun, you’ve been through enough having to go through HG with both pregnancies, how about you pick whatever name you would like and I will support you”…..oh fuck no!  Instead I got, “we can’t name this kid a name that doesn’t start with an M, he/ she would be an outsider for sure”  Come on.  So I was getting texts every few minutes from my friend Kat with name ideas she was getting from other people at her office.  I also spoke with nurses for their thoughts and ideas.  One of the nurses said someone had recently named their daughter Madelyn.  Done and DONE.  For a boy, it would have been Lincoln.  Mike knew it was going to be a girl.  I did not, though I had my assumptions.

So this labor was much faster than the first.  I apologize if I am repeating myself, but I cannot remember what I posted two years ago.  Shit, I can’t remember what I wore yesterday.  Anyhow, my first pregnancy I was there overnight and they needed to use pitocin to get me going.  This time, I got there at about 7 or 8 a.m. and baby girl was born by 4 p.m. with just a couple minutes of pushing  (yep – can’t even remember the exact time).  Not a whole lot of time to hang out or rest.  I wasn’t as scared this time though.  I knew what was coming.  I definitely couldn’t feel as much of the contractions since I used the drug button too many times.  But I was okay with that.

Another big difference was that I told Mike to go home so that he could be with Kenzie since we hadn’t really left her alone overnight.  There was no need for him to stay with me.  It got a little lonely, but I was able to get some sleep and I was smart enough to let the nurses take Maddy when they offered.  With Kenzie, I was all, “don’t take my baby!” and this time I was all, “yes, please take her now – and bring the snack cart in while you’re at it”  Yes, let her sleep in the momaroo for as long as she’ll have it.  I still never had time to shower.  I think I valued the sleep more.

The snack cart, meal choices, Food Network, and replenishment of feminine products were the highlights of my day (yes, I enjoyed the company of my new babe too, so shut it).  I would hear the snack cart in the room next to me in the middle of the night and I would get all ready to make my choices.  They never judged either…three rice crispy treats?  you got it!  “Oh wait, can I have cheetos and a granola bar too?”  SURE!!   I would stockpile that shit.

Then the CNA would come in every few hours to check on my feminine supplies (ice packs for the vag area, giant pads, the infamous mesh undies, the spray foam pain numbing stuff).  Every time they would leave, I confiscate just enough into my overnight bag so that they would replenish it each time.  Then, I had more than enough to bring home to last me a few weeks.  No way am I buying this shit after the fact.

The meal choices weren’t too bad.  I did make my husband bring me giant sandwiches and polish sausage/ cheese fries for most dinners.  The rest of the meals I had hospital food.  I always asked for a Pepsi, even though it wasn’t a choice.  Sorry dude, I’m not here for bad health choices, feed me what I want.  They always came through.

The one thing I did miss was the killer fruit punch they had when I had Kenzie there.  They had it on the fountain and with the best little pieces of ice.  They must have updated their stuff because it was no longer an option.   That’s fine.  I just replaced it with Pepsi every time, ahahahaha.

I was also smarter about my attire this time.  I hated those nursing gowns that they had.  So ugly and moo-moo like.  And annoying to unbutton.  I wore my shamrock boxer shorts and a t-shirt the whole time, and brought my slippers too.  Best decision ever.

Here is the best husband story though.  He did bring in Kenzie once to say hi, but she was getting antsy so they only stayed a bit.  I decided to give birth on fantasy baseball draft weekend.  What the fuck was I thinking?   So I knew this, but I thought for sure he would either do it remotely or just let it auto-pick for him since I just gave birth to his second child, BFD.  Wrong, stupid, stupid over medicated mama.  He told me he was going to drop off Kenzie at his parents so he could go to Hooters and do his draft.  I laughed and said okay, whatever.  He was going to pick up baby girl and I from the hospital after he was done.  That’s fine – no problem.

Let me just tell you, this was the longest six hours of my life of day 3 at the hospital.  Baby girl still needed her first bath (I pushed it off as long as I could).  She hated it, obviously.

So my dear husband rolled in around 5 or 6 p.m., because you know, they WILL kick you out of the room on your last day.  He was complaining of a splitting headache.  I parted with one of my super motrin pills for him (no fucking way was he getting my tylenol with codeine).  Yes guys, my husband was complaining of a headache while I stood there with intense pressure and soreness between my legs from producing a child.  I can’t make this shit up.

So we get home, and his parents meet us there with Kenzie and they made dinner (sausage and red sauce or some crap).  Everyone is sitting at the dining room table, Kenzie is running around, I’m holding baby while trying to eat.  That’s when it happened.  Mike looked at me and said, “Do you mind if I go upstairs and lay down for a bit, my head is still pounding”….you guys, I laughed at him.  And then I realized he WASN’T FUCKING JOKING.

My husband went up to lay down in our bed the night I got home with baby girl #2.  To be clear, he is a great father and he’s always been very good to me, but the fact that it actually happened.  Like I couldn’t comprehend it as it happened.  Yes, please leave me to deal with our newborn and toddler AND YOUR PARENTS.

So that’s how Maddy made her entrance – quick and sassy, just like she is.  She demands attention like no one else (aside from big sis) and is more independent and stubborn than I might be.  She’s a strong one.

 

 

 

 

Early Riser/ Why I Hate Parks.

Just a little break from Maddy’s birth story.  And because I actually got some hard earned sleep last night.

Maddy had a rough afternoon yesterday.  It seems like her tummy was bothering her, but she’d still flash me smiles every now and then, so I knew she was all good.   We took her and Kenzie to the park last night.  You can’t just go for a walk with Kenzie without ending up at the park.  I’ve tried.  You start walking in the opposite direction, and she will stop, point in the direction of one of the two parks near our house, and say, “NO, PARK!”

Well, I hate the park.  Back in May, she fell from a pretty high opening on the playground.  It was a good 4 foot fall, and she fell on her head/ neck.  WORST MOMENT OF MY LIFE.  Mike and I were both there.  We usually follow her up on the jungle gym, but this particular day, she decided she was going to just go down the slide 20 times.  Mike sat down with me since I had Maddy while we watched her play.  Of course, after she walked up the steps, she looked over at us, decided to do a little dance/ jump, lost her balance, and flew right off of the platform.  Let me ask this.  WHY THE FUCK ARE THERE GIANT OPENINGS THAT LEAD TO NOWHERE ON PLAYGROUND PLATFORMS?  This platform was 4 feet high, and it looked like they  could have been connected to monkey bars at some point.   It’s like they are asking for a disaster.

We were very lucky, because she did not lose consciousness.  She also had no blood, just a few scrapes from the wood chips that she landed on.  We ran home so we could clean her up and check her head.  I gave her a cookie to occupy her while I tried to wash off her wounds.  She took a bite of the cookie, cried, and then spit it out.  Now I was concerned that she chipped a tooth or something.  GREAT.  Got her all cleaned up while Maddy was screaming in the background.  She was still pretty out of sorts.  Mike hung out with her while I called the nurse triage line at the hospital to see if we needed to take her into the ER.  THIS SHIT ALWAYS HAPPENS ON THE WEEKENDS.  Seriously, you’ll find that your kids most often get sick or hurt on the weekends, when your doctor is not available.  So you’re always second guessing yourself…do I go to the ER?  Do I go to urgent care?

They told me that since her fall was less than 5 feet (I almost had to go back to the park to measure because I wasn’t quite sure, and you don’t want to be wrong about something like that), she wouldn’t need to go to the ER.  Just need to monitor her for any weird signs, make sure she doesn’t pass out, etc.  Luckily, we had a doctor’s appointment scheduled for that next week for a follow up, so they would check out her pretty little head then.  After her good nap, and me checking up on her pretty frequently, she woke up and ate her Mac & Cheese and a cookie with no problem.  Then, she started running around the table and jumping on the couch.  I was thrilled that she was acting like her normal, insane self, but it also concerned me that with our luck, she would go flying off the couch and another injury would ensue.  No thanks.  So I think I bribed her with another cookie or playing on the iPad.  Don’t judge me until you have two kids.  I always said, “my kids will never play on electronics like iPads or watch TV”….hahahaha, I was so dumb.  But we’ll save that for another post.

This post turned into why I hate the park, when it was supposed to be about how I actually got a decent night’s sleep.  Anyhow, we took both girls to the park that evening and Kenzie had a great time.  We had to bribe her to leave.  Ice cream, this time.  But Maddy was losing her shit as we started the walk home.  It’s a few blocks from our house.  So I ran with the stroller (something you’ll never see me doing, because who has time for exercise…), but it didn’t seem to help.  So I took her out and walked with her, which was much better for her (try steering a dumb stroller through a winding path with a 4 month old kicking you).

Kenzie went to bed around 9 that night – no fussing, no fighting.  Maddy went down around 10 p.m., which wasn’t so bad.  I expected to be woken up around 2 or 3, as per usual.  Well guess who waltzed into our room at 3?  Kenzie P!   Hahaha, I was so thrilled when I heard her little footsteps making their way to our room.  I kicked Mike.  Then I shoved him.  “Hey, your daughter is awake”…..he made it very clear that once Maddy was born, he would be on Kenzie duty at night.  I agreed.   Kenzie has been sleeping through the night since before we had Maddy, of course.  So this deal basically meant that Mike never had to wake up.  Cool.  Until now.  At 3 a.m.   SUCKER.

I went right back to sleep.  And guess what?  Maddy didn’t wake up once that night.  You must be wondering if Kenzie went back to bed after she woke up Mike at 3.  NOPE!  Girlfriend stayed awake until I woke up with Maddy at 7.  Mike had a look of pure exhaustion on his face.  I just smiled.  Kenzie proceeded to fall asleep on the ride to her babysitter’s house, though.  It was a nice, quiet ride in.

Long story short, Maddy is a MUCH better sleeper than Kenzie ever was at her age.  I know the size is a big factor, but I deserve this after over a year of crazy nights with Kenzie.  Loved those nights with my girl, but mama needs her rest so she doesn’t go postal at work.

Potty Training with Miss Kenzie

Oh man, what a fun evening we had.

My original plan was to start potty training fast and furious during my maternity leave.  Things got a little busy/ crazy with two kids, so that never ended up being a priority.

I got home Thursday and noticed that Kenzie had a bit of a rash on her bottom, so I decided to let her soak a little longer in the bathtub.  I also thought, “This would be a great opportunity to start using her big girl undies!”  So, rather than put a night time diaper on her and not let the rash breathe, I put on her Minnie Mouse undies.  I talked to her about it, and explained that she needed to let mama or dada know when she needed to potty, and we would take her up to her pretty potty.

She has already gone potty on it a few times, so she knows the drill.  She enjoys playing with her potty more than using it, though.  For example, she will place her bear on the potty seat and say, “Bear going potty”….so she totally gets it, but she just isn’t interested in using it herself.

So I bring Kenzie downstairs, and Mike says, “This is a terrible idea, I don’t like it”….I told him just not to let her sit on the couch or anything.  Easy enough, right?  So I go upstairs to start running Maddy’s bath.  [I feel all that I do after getting home from work is change diapers, clean up toys, bathe the kids, and feed them constantly].   I realize all of Maddy’s diapers are downstairs, so I run down to grab one.  I notice that Kenzie is sitting on Mike’s lap and he is combing her hair (she won’t let me do it – everything I try to do gets a “Dada Do!!”  She hates me already!).

As I walk by, I say, “Wow, you’re brave” and continued on upstairs to get Maddy ready for her bath.  Before I can even get Maddy to the tub, I hear Mike scream, “AHHH!!!”  And then I just waited.  He ran up the stairs holding Kenzie out like she had some type of disease.  I took her and asked what was wrong, just to be funny.  He was clearly pissed (no pun intended).

You guys, she seriously had the smallest amount of pee on her nightgown.  Mike claims that was because it all leaked out onto him.  He had already run to change his shorts.  HILARIOUS.  After he changed and I cleaned up Kenzie, he said, “We’re not doing that anymore” in a super pissed off/ attitudey kind of voice…and then I asked him what his suggestion was for potty training.  “She’ll just tell us when she has to go, and then we’ll take her to the potty”….HAHAHAHA.   Well, maybe when she’s 4 she can do that.

Looks like I’m going to have to do the potty training while he is not home!   Not like I have anything else to do.

Madelyn Mary Jane, Part 1

Baby Girl #2 has arrived!  It was a surprise all the way until the end for me as to whether baby was going to be a boy or a girl.  My husband cheated and looked back in February, but that was to be expected.

I’m going to try to get through my second birth story as quickly as possible.  I’m already back from maternity leave, but trying to blog with two kids at home was pretty much never going to happen.  They like to take opposite naps so that mama could never nap.

On Thursday, March 23, 2017, I woke up and let my mom in (thankfully, she babysits for us on Thursdays and even brings us breakfast usually so that we don’t have to worry about getting Kenzie’s food ready).  I don’t think Kenzie was awake yet, so I went back upstairs to start getting ready.  I opted to shower on this day because I have more time on Thursdays.  I remember when I used to shower every day.  HA.  HAHAHA.

I turned on the shower, and then went to the bathroom (pee).  Sorry if TMI, but that is somewhat important in the retelling of this fantastic story.

I was just about to jump in the shower when I sneezed.

BAM.  My water broke!

I believe my exact words were, “YESSSSS.   Ah, SHITTTTTTT”

I was quite relieved that I knew it was my water breaking.  I obviously wasn’t peeing on myself since I had just gone.  And thank God I didn’t get in the shower sooner, because I might not have noticed the steady gush of water.  Since my water also broke when I was pregnant with my first daughter (after I had a good, hard laugh), I was worried that I wouldn’t know when it was go-time if I started having contractions first.  My main fear was that it would be too late to administer the wonderful epidural.

I was only a week and a half ahead of schedule, and that was okay with me (I was a month early with my first daughter, so there were fears of her lungs not being as developed, etc – but she was all good as it turned out!)

I slowly waddled into our room wrapped in a towel.

Me:  “Babe, my water just broke”

Mike:  “Are you sure you didn’t pee on yourself?”   (oh, funny guy)

Me:  “YES!

Mike:  “Do I have time to shower?”  (again, hilarious)

Me:  “Whatever, just do it fast”  (this is where I should have said no, that I would be taking a shower since I didn’t end up showering at the hospital at all.  I did little sink baths instead, but I decided that sleep was more precious than showering).

I called the triage/ on-call number for my doctor and asked them to page her and to have her call me.  The nurse says, “well, let me see who is on call” – I said, “No no no, she wanted to be paged when my water broke, so please only page her” – I know they have a process, but I wasn’t feeling like fighting with anyone to make sure my doctor knew what was up.  A few minutes later, my doctor calls me.  Sounds like she is in a parking garage somewhere because her voice is in and out.  I have to repeat myself several times, “MY WATER BROKE!” praying that she heard me correctly.  And before her line cut out, I vaguely heard, “Okay, head to the hospital and I will call to let them know you are coming”  Cool.  Cool cool cool.

So I went downstairs to explain the situation to my mom.  I was conflicted about telling her.  I didn’t want her to freak out since she would need to stay at our house to take care of Kenzie.  She was excited.  I told her I was going to sit down and eat while Mike showered.

They would not allow me to eat while I was at the hospital last time.  I understand that if something were to go wrong, they’d need to do a c-section and food is bad in that case.  Whatever.  I knew I wasn’t going to have a c-section.   So it was breakfast burrito time!

Mike proceeds to come downstairs and yell at me for eating.  I tell him to shut it since he is not the one currently leaking amniotic fluid or having contractions.  I still only had one breakfast burrito instead of two since he made me feel guilty.

Kenzie was still sleeping, which made me really sad because I really wanted one last snuggle with her.  And then it was time to head to the hospital.  This time, I actually had my hospital bag packed!   Even including an outfit for new baby.  I felt so prepared for once in my life!

We get in Mike’s car, and I am sitting on a towel.  The leaking seems to have stopped.  Of course I didn’t have any pads on hand to try to soak up everything.  I’m still in my sweatpants, looking good.  The hospital is literally 5 minutes from our house (pretty convenient).   We pull up to entrance C, and of course there is no parking nearby (I told Mike I was fine walking, and he refused to valet the car).  So he lets me out at the door.  As soon as I stand up, it felt like a gallon of water fell out of me.  I wait for Mike before I jump on the elevator.  At this point, it looks like I peed myself pretty bad, because every time I move a muscle, another gush comes out.

STAY TUNED…

 

 

Stop Getting My Kid Sick / My Unplanned Hospital Visit

I don’t even want to write about this experience because it was such a terrible one to endure, but if it will help someone out by reading it, then it will have been worth it.

I always thought dehydration was a joke.  I was always getting sick with my first pregnancy, keeping very little food down.  Water even made me nauseous.  I always asked my doctor if I could get too dehydrated and at what point should I be worried.  She didn’t seem super concerned and told me if I could not keep ANY food or drink down within an 8 hour period to call her office.  I never really got to that point, because eventually, I would have a Taco Bell craving or fountain Pepsi craving and would be able to keep all of that down, shockingly.

The difference this time was that the dehydration that came on was not pregnancy/ morning sickness related.  It was caused by some nasty stomach bug – probably the fancy norovirus that has been in the headlines so often as of late.  Here is a nice article explaining the virus if you are not aware of just how nasty it can be:  Norovirus

Anyhow, this was easily the worst stomach bug I have ever had in my life.  And having it while 8 months pregnant…multiply it by 10.

My daughter had thrown up twice the Sunday before, but nothing else.  She was fine by Tuesday.  Her little buddies at the babysitter’s house were the ones who got her sick.  I later found out that the parents were sending their kids if they had puked that morning, thinking or hoping it was “just a fluke” or the food that was bothering them.  Not the case, assholes.  The problem is, many of the parents are teachers, so their time off is limited.  I understand it is not super convenient to take a day off at the last minute and have to find a substitute, etc.  And I understand that you probably don’t get as much time off as someone with a non-teaching job.

Unfortunately, I DON’T GIVE A FUCK.  Like I had said before, my daughter threw up twice on Sunday night.  No WAY was I about to send her to the babysitter’s on Monday “hoping” that her symptoms would magically disappear.  She had no other symptoms.  No diarrhea.  But, in my mind, I make the decision to do what I hope other parents would do in the same situation.  So I keep her home one more day to ensure that she’s not going to infect other kids.  My work is still piling up.  And I’m using sick time that I was trying to save for after baby #2 was born so that I can get paid for as much as possible since my job does not offer paid maternity leave.  Doesn’t always work out though, and you have to just go with it and put your kids’ best interests before your own.

So, I’m at work on Tuesday and feeling fine.  Around 11 a.m., I get a sudden rush of nausea and have to run to the bathroom to puke.  Almost didn’t make it.  At this point, I’m trying to figure out if this is morning sickness related, or if I have caught the infamous bug.   Not even 20 minutes later, I was running for the bathroom again to puke.  Yep, definitely not pregnancy related.  I headed out of work immediately leaving a trail of antibacterial sanitizer in hopes of not getting anyone else sick.  Called the babysitter and told her I would be dropping off the carseat and that Mike would be picking Kenzie up after work instead of me.  I have no idea how I made it the whole 30 minute drive without having to pull over and vomit out the window, but I did!  I tried taking the smallest sips of Gatorade, just to keep myself a little hydrated.  But as soon as I walked in the door, I was throwing up again.  There was nothing left in my stomach to throw up.  At this point, I was getting a little worried.  I thought if I tried to lay down, that would help.   NOPE.  Three more times, dry heaving and throwing up straight bile.  That is when I decided to call my doctor.

Doctor is on vacation this week.  WELL OF COURSE SHE IS!  Luckily the nurses were still there taking calls.  She told me if I started cramping or feeling contractions or thought I was dehydrated, to go directly to the hospital since I was so far along.  Well, how do I make that call?  I didn’t want to be the girl who cried wolf and didn’t really need to be admitted for something as lame as dehydration.  I puked twice more after that.  Called my mother-in-law, who works five minutes from our house to come pick me up to take me to the hospital.  I felt like such a loser.

As it turns out, it was the best decision I’ve made in awhile, probably.  I was severely dehydrated AND having contractions.  I couldn’t even feel the contractions, but they were occurring, and definitely due to the dehydration.  Had I waited, I likely would have gone into full fledged pre-term labor at 32 weeks.  The baby’s heart rate was all over the place, so they kept me overnight.  It took five IV bags of fluids to rehydrate me.  They also gave me zofran for the nausea, but that didn’t do much for me.  They also put me on Tamiflu, just as a precaution.  I didn’t get any real sleep until about 5 a.m. the next morning.  I had such bad heartburn when I would try to lay down (from what – there was nothing left in my system!), that I would toss and turn.  Between that and the baby monitor moving around so much, the nurses were constantly in there readjusting me and taking blood.  I was finally able to keep some broth down at 4 a.m. after a failed attempt at orange Jello (I will never eat Jello again now) – and let me tell you, broth NEVER tasted so good!

I got to go home the next evening.  I was so excited to go home and sleep in my own bed, without any monitors attached to me.  I was told I could not return to work until Monday of the next week (I got home that Wednesday – yayyyy, more sick time wasted and baby #2 isn’t even here yet).  Even though I was home, I was still so sick up until that next Tuesday.  Easily the worst I have ever felt in my life.  I would have almost preferred to stay in the hospital had I known how weak and useless I would be at home with my toddler.  Thank God for my husband, who still took Kenzie to the babysitter’s so that I could rest for the days he had to work, and continued to take care of her when they got home, even though he wasn’t feeling his best.

I will be 35 weeks this Sunday, and I am so happy that baby is still safe and growing.  Moral of the story:  Dehydration is no joke when you are in your third trimester.  You do what you need to do to make sure baby stays put as long as possible.  Fingers crossed that babe will stay put for at least another two weeks.  Can’t wait to meet the newest addition, and I can’t wait to see how Kenzie reacts when she realizes this kid will be with us for the long haul.