Potty Training & Other Fun Topics (+31 weeks pregnant)

I type this as my eyes are closing.  It’s only 1:47 p.m. on a Monday, but I am getting more exhausted by the day.  I need to hire a personal chef, driver, stylist, and maid.  I’m sure I’m leaving something out.  Oh, pregnancy.  Just put me out of my misery.

I just wanted to document that Kenzie used her potty for the first time on her own!  Could not be more proud of my girl.

We only just bought the fake potty (see here:  Fisher Price Potty Light Up) last weekend.  I thought it was going to be a few months before she even considered taking it for a spin.  Of course I had high hopes last weekend and thought I would have her going in the potty immediately (ha, I’m so dumb).  She was merely interested in the fake flushing mechanism of her new toy and that it lit up and talked upon flushing the handle.

So last night, little chica was sitting on my lap as I was reading a Sesame Street book to her.  All of the sudden, my leg got really warm, so I know she had peed in her diaper.  I stopped reading and said, “Kenz, you are supposed to tell me when you have to potty, remember?”  and she replied with, “potty!”…so I figured why not try.  It was nearly time for her bubble bath, so I raced her up the stairs to the bathroom thinking maybe she had some left in her.  I said, “You sit on the potty while I fill up your bath tub, okay?”  and she replied, “okay!”…so I helped her take off her pants and diaper, and she promptly sat down on her little toy.  She sat longer than she normally did before, and all of the sudden, I heard a little bit trickle out!  And of course, there is a sensor at the bottom of her potty that sings “You went potty!!” when something fills it, even just a little.  I screamed for Mike and then told her how happy and proud I was of her.  Then I went and got her a sticker to put on her potty (I thought I would start with the sticker system, even if she just tries, she will get a sticker to put on the back of her potty).

I know she is not magically trained now and there is much work to be done still, but this is a huge milestone!  Now the babysitter can also be on board with potty training during the day (she also does the sticker system).  I understand she might regress after the new baby comes along, but that is to be expected.

The two main things that I wanted to have in motion prior to delivering baby number 2 were:

(1)  have Kenzie sleeping in her big girl bed consistently (her big girl bed is a freaking queen size Simmons complete with pillow top – I bought it when I moved out on my own, and it only got like two years of use – girl has got it made in the shade).  Fingers crossed all over the place that this new kiddo is a fan of the rock n’ play sleeper.  Kenzie HATED it and would only sleep on my chest.  Otherwise, it will be co-sleeping again for the first few months.  But that’s okay, because I feel slightly more prepared as to what my options will be if baby is not a good sleeper.

(2)  start potty training.  Successful start, and we will just keep on keepin’ on.

*I also wanted a deep freezer for breastmilk storage purposes.  Mike was always annoyed at how many frozen plastic containers I had spread all over our tiny freezer.  I told him to avoid that this time around, he needed to buy me a deep freezer.  Find a place for it – I don’t care where.  We will need it in the future with two kids, anyhow.  His main protest is that I will fill it with other crap and forget about it and then it will all be freezer burn/ spoiled/ etc.  So I have to keep bothering him about that to ensure that I get my way.

*I also tried to get him to buy a few sleepers at Target this weekend for the hospital.  Aden + Anais had these adorable sleepers on clearance:  Aden + Anais Sleeper   He was like, “what do we need those for?”  UH, for new baby at the hospital!!  The little wrap shirt that they put Kenzie in when she was born was a complete pain in the ass.  I want something that zips up easily – no buttons, straps, nothing over the head.  I want EASY this time.  So I have to keep fighting the good fight for that too, especially because I will probably tell Mike to leave us at the hospital so he can be with Kenzie overnight, and so he can get some rest as well.

*And finally, I am getting some pressure from people about having a second baby shower!  I guess people have “sprinkles” or whatever, but I’m pretty sure that is normally when you know you are having a baby of the opposite gender (which I don’t want to know), and normally is a much smaller gathering at someone’s house.  I don’t like to put people out.  If they want to buy us something, they will.  I’ll tell you this, I will want some good beer, sushi, and sandwiches following birth.  That’s all I want.  Oh, and maybe some special brownies for when my pain meds run out.  ::Is she kidding?::

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Down with the Sickness

Alright, so I have always hated people who come to work knowing that they are sick.  Hacking up a lung and sneezing on everything in the office.  They try to be rock stars. But in actuality, they are ASSHOLES.  Maybe they love work too much.  Work might be their escape from home.  Maybe they don’t want to waste their sick days on actually being sick in bed.  Saving them for a beach day.  Who knows.  Either way – screw them all.

I am sick again.  This is probably the 4th or 5th time this winter so far.  AND I AM PISSED.  It’s like I’m on two weeks/ off two weeks.  I know my immune system is shot from being pregnant, but COME ON.  I wash my hands and use sanitizer often.  I try to get as much sleep as possible and even nap on the weekends.  I eat good (mostly).  I take vitamins.  I diffuse thieves and purification at home (my husband is now more convinced than ever that oils/ “potions” are a joke, since our sicknesses have not been subsiding).  What the hell else am I supposed to do?  ::sidenote::  elderberry juice is next on my list of things to try to keep my immunity up.  If you’ve tried it/ use it, please let me know your thoughts.

The thing that really pisses me off is that these people who come to work sick and hacking up a lung actually have sick/ vacation days that they can use.  But they choose not to.  Because they want to infect everyone.  And they are not pregnant. And they don’t have young kids to worry about.

I am in a position where my employer does NOT offer paid maternity leave.  I get the 12 weeks of unpaid FMLA so that they have to hold my job, but that is all.  Therefore, I have to save every last sick/ vacation day that I can so that I can use all of it during the first few weeks of maternity leave so I can get paid SOMETHING.  And then, when I do go back to work after my 12 week “vacation”, I will have little to no sick/ vacation time left.  But never fear, kids under the age of 3 never get sick, right?   So I won’t need that time.  I’m sure my husband will be cool with taking a day off here and there to take the kids to the doctor or whatever.  NOT.  So I try to be here even when I am sick, because I don’t want to can’t waste my days (for a good enough reason).

And my final rant about health issues:  Urgent Care VS seeing your actual doctor.  My husband finally admitted defeat and asked me to make him a doctor’s appointment with his doctor.  He has had a cold on and off for about two months now.  He did go to urgent care about a month ago, and the nurse practitioner put him on the same antibiotic that my daughter was on for her ear infection.  I should have told him up front to ask for a z-pac instead of amox.  But then he would have called me a druggie.

Fast forward to last week, when he complains that he still has this lingering sore throat.  I’ll save my “man sick vs. woman sick” for another day.  But in this case, I told him he needs to make an appointment with his real doctor.  So today, he must have been annoyed enough with his throat to ask me to call for him.

Today is Tuesday, January 24.  The earliest they have to see even a NURSE PRACTITIONER available for a sick appointment at his doctor’s office is Thursday, February 2.  WHAT THE FUCK?  What is the point?  That must be why we are surrounded by so many urgent care facilities that are collecting tons of money and misdiagnosing half of the time.  Because it’s easier, more convenient, and they will even have the medicine you need on hand there so you won’t even have to wait for over an hour at shitty Osco (another post for this too at a later date).  It sickens me.  Don’t most doctor’s offices try to keep daily appointments open for those who are sick?  I know Kenzie’s pediatrician does, which gives me tremendous piece of mind knowing that I can take the morning off and will be able to get in that same day, and possibly be able to return to work for the afternoon depending on her diagnosis.  I just think it’s shitty, and it gives my husband one more reason to not want to schedule visits in the future – guaranteed this will be on his list of excuses “they won’t be able to get me in for weeks”

Needless to say, I will be on the look out for a new family practice doctor for both of us in the near future.  I am lucky, since I see my OB every week.  If I have a problem or sinus infection or flu, she will address it and prescribe medicine if necessary instead of telling me to go to another doctor or urgent care.  But that convenience will go away once I have the baby, of course, other than my annual and follow ups.

End rant.  Sorry guys 🙂

Glucose Test – FAIL (2017 Edition)

Happy New Year!  Ready for my resolution?

(1)  Do not get pregnant again.  Ever.

I know what you are thinking.  She’s being dramatic.  Or the ever popular: How dare she hate on pregnancy – doesn’t she know there are many women who can’t have babies on their own?

Judge me all you want.

And now for my final day of 2016, and how I went out with a bang…

I scheduled my glucose test appointment for 7 a.m. on NYE.  I figured, who else would want to voluntarily get blood work done on NYE?   I will be in and out.  And that should have been the case.

In case you want to read about my glucose test with my first pregnancy, because who doesn’t want a good laugh, you can view that here:  Glucose Test – Pregnancy #1

After my last glucose experience, I did a lot of research as to why my body reacted the way it did.  My own not-a-doctor conclusion:  I’m at the opposite spectrum as gestational diabetes.  No one in my family has a history of diabetes.  My last baby did not weigh over 9 lbs.  I did not have substantial weight gain during pregnancy #1, and started this pregnancy off at my pre-pregnancy weight (big thank you to breastfeeding, because there is no time for “exercising” in my house).   So really, no reason to think that this pregnancy is going to be any different, other than the fact that I hope this baby stays put until at least week 37.

So I woke up bright and early that morning, and my husband even woke up to make me eggs.  I had already cleared this with my doctor.  She said eggs, plain greek yogurt, whole wheat toast, would all be good things to have in my stomach prior to drinking the death cola.  Protein.  Just not a bowl of Fruity Pebbles or Count Chocula, to my dismay.

I ate the eggs and a little bit of yogurt.  Then, a familiar feeling of nausea came over me.  “NOT TODAY!  NOT NOW!” was all I could think.  And before I knew it, I had thrown everything up.

It was about 10 minutes before I had to leave for the diagnostic center.  My nerves were setting in.  I grabbed the rest of the yogurt and an english muffin with peanut butter and headed out the door, thinking “if I can stomach just a little of this during my drive, I will be okay during the test”….onward.

I walked in, signed in, and they promptly called me back to drink the death cola.  I had explained to the woman what had happened before, just in case the same thing were to happen.  She was very nice about it and told the secretaries up front so that they could keep an eye on me, just in case.

Side note:  You get 5 minutes to drink the death cola.  I have never been a “chugger” so to speak.  As I’m sipping on the drink, the phlebotomist is just standing there watching me.  So I asked, “Uh, I have five minutes, right?”  And she responded with, “Yes, but I like to tell people to just chug it to get it out of the way”….NO PRESSURE.  What the hell.  Can’t I just sip this nastiness in peace for the five minutes I get?  I don’t think it helped my situation by chugging it.

So I was escorted back to the waiting room, where there were probably three other people waiting.  One of the nice secretaries came up to me and introduced herself.  She said to let her know if I started feeling dizzy or weak.  She also asked me to move so that she could have a better view of me from her seat, so that was nice.   But this also forced me to move to the section where the other people were sitting.  If I was going to pass out or puke, I would prefer to do that in private, thank you.

I brought a book with me this time, “Something Borrowed” – which I love.  I figured it would keep my attention and make me worry less.  So I popped that open and continuously read and reread the first two pages.  What was wrong with me?  So I put the book down and just started looking around the room.  I tried to get comfortable by sitting back a little and letting my arms just lay instead of trying to prop myself up.  I figured any extra form of burning energy would be bad news.

Approximately 20 minutes after I chugged the death cola, I started to feel it – exactly like the last time.  I started to sweat, shake, get dizzy, feel weak…ALL AT THE SAME TIME.  I quickly got the secretary’s attention.  She called the phlebotomist and then proceeded to bring a garbage can over to me.  The phlebotomist appeared seconds later with a wheelchair.  I thought I could hold off on the puking.  WRONG.  Puked my guts out in the waiting room.  And the most embarrassing part.  I managed to piss my own pants.   Every time I heaved, GUSH.  I was soaked by the time everything was out of my system.  Luckily, I was wearing dark jeans, so you couldn’t tell at all.   (PS:  This peeing while vomiting was NOT a thing during my first pregnancy – I assume it is part of the aftermath of pushing a kid out of your body – I also pee when I sneeze now too – RIDICULOUS).  So a big FUCK YOU to 2016.  It was just not my year.

After that, they wouldn’t let me drive myself home.  I was like, “GREAT, now I can call my husband who will have to wake up our daughter (girlfriend gets angry when she is woken up as opposed to waking up on her own), and then proceed to tell him that I need a change of pants because I peed myself in front of a few strangers – what a fantastic way to end 2016″….

Husband was great about it, though.  He even thought to bring me a new pair of underwear, even though I didn’t ask for them.  He bundled little chicky up and arrived about 20 minutes later with my change of clothes.  He didn’t make me feel like a loser, so that was nice.

After he picked me up, we went through the Panera drive thru (that’s how you could tell I really felt like crap – I didn’t want ANYTHING) and got Kenzie a parfait and a few bagels for the next morning.  I went to sleep as soon as I got home, and slept for a good 4 hours.  I got up, ate a little something, and then it was time for Kenzie’s nap.  I napped with her, for another 3 hours.  SO WONDERFUL.  My body clearly needed it.

Interesting website about healthy alternatives to the glucose test and what is in death cola (if your doctor allows, I guess):  Glucose Testing

Moral of the story:  We are only having two kids.  And if I ever start to forget why I said that, I will have this lovely blog to look back on as to why two kids will be our max.  And if I still have baby fever after this one for some reason, I’d like to use the wise words of my late grandma:  “Feel free to push me in front of the 342 PACE bus”

UPDATE:  I had my doctor’s appointment yesterday.  She said that she didn’t want to put me through the 3 hour glucose test, since my body clearly wasn’t handling it well and that she has such high doubts that I fall into the gestational diabetes category.  To satisfy the pediatrician of future baby, I do have to go to have my blood drawn on Monday, Wednesday, and Friday of next week, after fasting for 8 hours (no death cola).  This will just confirm that my levels are where they should be and that we have nothing to worry about.  I’ll take it and consider it a victory that I will never have to take the glucose test again (hopefully).

I also was lucky enough to get my RhoGAM shot yesterday because of my blood type being rh negative.  In the butt.  I will get another one immediately after delivery.  Yayyyy.

Now we are onto our check ups every two weeks.  Yayyyy.  Home stretch?  Nahhh.

 

Thank You For Being a Friend

I remember when I was younger, my Grandma (on my dad’s side) would ask all about my friends.  When I was having a birthday party for friends, she always asked who I was inviting and tried to remember the girls from when she may have seen them at our house in the past.

My Grandma passed away last year, and left a diary to me.  In that diary, she wrote about all of her time spent with my brother and I while we were growing up.  She loved writing and keeping records and dates of things that had happened in the past.  I even remember her having a paper calendar in their kitchen with so many notes scribbled on each small square.  I would read them and question what some things meant when I was younger.  She would write important things, such as birthdays, and other things that were not so important such as, “Seinfeld – funny episode” or “Letterman Top 10 List”…hilarious.

I remember telling her on many occasions that our close knit group of friends would be friends forever.  Oh, what a term!   Even as the years went by, and my group of friends changed, I still felt so strongly that I would remain friends forever with at least some of them, and that we would always be a big part of each other’s lives.  My Grandma was less than encouraging when I told her this!  I remember her saying on many occasions, “You’ll see Melissa, things will be different when you are all adults – you won’t be as close as you think”…this made me SO upset.  And because of that, I was more motivated than ever to beat the odds with my group of friends.

My Grandma is probably laughing at me up in heaven.  I mean, it’s not that I don’t have any friends.  But I’ve learned that as you get older and get into your adult years, get married, have kids, etc, the time that you have to call your own and devote to outside friends is few and far between.  That’s life, but that doesn’t make the reality of it suck any less.

The movie Now & Then is one of my favorite movies.  It came out at the perfect time for my group of friends and I (1995 – and I just realized that was more than 20 years ago – I feel older by the minute these days).  We all tried to pick someone in the movie that we could relate to or looked like, and we would channel that girl.   In the movie, when they fast-forward as adults, Chrissy is pregnant and goes into labor.  I don’t know why, but it always stuck with me that the three other girls were all in the room while she was giving birth (nevermind that one of them was a doctor or that they all just happened to be in town at that time).  I always wanted that for my friendships.  I wanted them to last.  I wanted all of us to live in a cul-de-sac in a small town and watch our kids grow up together and become the same kind of friends.  Hahaha, I was SO dumb and young.

I even thought about it as I was in labor with my daughter.  Don’t get me wrong, my husband was great and all that I needed at that time.  And maybe it’s just part of growing up. What I failed to realize in the movie (the movie that is not real life – I have to keep reminding myself of this) is that these women probably all went their separate ways and just HAPPENED to be back for one big event.  I’m sure they didn’t gab on the phone every day and see each other every month, let alone every year.  So goes the term, adulting.

I mean, we had all the time in the world when we were growing up.  No jobs (aside from one of our guy friends who pretended to caddy) or commitments other than babysitting (I’ll save the Babysitters Club for another post).  We spent our summer days riding our bikes around town, trying to get lost, buying 13 pieces of candy for a dollar, swimming, dancing, creating babysitter clubs, etc because we didn’t have jobs to worry about, or anything else of importance.   We were lucky to have each other when we did.  I’m sure not all adults look back happily at their childhood.  So instead of being sad that I don’t have some of those friendships now, I will choose to be happy that I can one day share the memories when my kids are old enough, and hopefully give them that same carefree childhood.

Until then, I will watch Now & Then and remember how great I had it growing up 🙂

BuzzFeed Now & Then

Sidenote:  I had no idea Bonnie Hunt was in this movie until just recently.  Hilarious.

 

 

Worst Mom #445

I’m not really counting the reasons why I am sometimes a bad mom.  My numbering system is probably pretty accurate, though.

Anyhow, this happened a few weeks ago on a Friday.  I picked up Kenzie from the babysitter’s house after another fun-filled day at work.

I put her in the car seat and noticed she dropped her doll’s pacifier.  Of course.  So I start looking all over for it.  Can’t find it.  Distracted her with some pretzels.  Good to go.

So, I’m driving along and we get to a light about 10 minutes later.  Just a block away from getting on the expressway.  I look back at little chicky in my rear view mirror (we have one of those mirrors on her seat in the back since she is still rear-facing) and see that she is proudly STANDING UP facing me with a huge smile on her face.  YEP, I forgot to buckle her in because I was so distracted looking for the dumb fake pacifier.  I immediately start looking around to see where I can pull into quickly to get her strapped in.  There is a White Castle just a few feet ahead and I just need to turn right to get into the parking lot.  Perfect.

At the same time, I am telling Kenzie sternly “SIT DOWN”, to which she just laughs and smiles because she knows what she has accomplished.  Completely ignores me.

The light turns green, and I slowly start to turn into the White Castle parking lot.  I look in the mirror as I am doing this and watch Kenzie do a little cartwheel and fall over onto the seat next to her.  OMG.  She starts whining/ fake crying.  I ask, “Are you okay?!”  To which she replies, “Yeah” (in the saddest tone ever – hilarious).  So I get her all buckled in (against her will of course, because now she knows what freedom is like in the car), and away we go while she cried for the duration of the trip.  What a heart attack!  So thankful we were not on the expressway going 70 mph when it happened.  I am a moron.

Stay tuned for more bad mom stories, I’m sure they’ll be coming.  Especially with pregnancy brain over here.

 

20 more weeks of hell

Alright.  I give up.  I had a good run for a few weeks.  I had to practically run another employee our of restroom.

Now, for the second time in a week, I am getting sick mid-day.  At 20 weeks pregnant.  With an 18 month old to take care of.  And a full-time job to work.

I don’t even need to look at the ultrasound picture that my dear husband has been hiding from me.  I know it’s another girl.  Won’t need to focus on boy names.  Great.  Time saved.  And if anyone else asks me, “Well what if you don’t get your boy this time, aren’t you going to try again?”…STRAIGHT TO THE MOON.

I’m not really into rooting for one gender over the other, as long as the kid is healthy and not having to spend time in the NICU.  So the answer is NO, I don’t really give a shit if our last name moves on for another generation.  If we can raise two competent (or semi competent human beings), I consider that a success.

Going for a third, in my opinion, would be like tempting fate for us.  Mike already blames me for giving him Shingles last year.  *for the record, I did not give him Shingles, though he believes that I am the reason that caused them because I am so difficult and cause him so much stress in life (in the midst of trying to take care of a colicky newborn and trying to recover from a little thing called childbirth).  I should have made labor and delivery look much more difficult, but I can tolerate pain and managed it well.  Too well.  So next time, I’m putting on much more of a show.

Long story short, a third kid would both put us in the poor house, and likely set up impending divorce because I would be able to get even less housework done than I do now (which isn’t that much, truth be told).  Call me a negative nancy, but I value my relationship with my husband.  I know there are couples out there who can/ want to do it, and maybe that will in turn make their relationship stronger.  We are not that couple.  We still want to travel (with and without kids), and we want to be able to retire at a decent age and not have to worry about kids still living with us.  And I need to get myself a more challenging job.  This job is perfect for when the kiddos are tiny humans, but once they are in full day school, I’m out.  Call me selfish, but I would expect my kids to do the same thing.  Some women are made to be stay at home moms – and more power to you.  Some women have to work to keep their sanity.  I am one of those women.

Thanks for listening to me bitch.  Fingers crossed for a better evening and few days/ weeks ahead.

PS:  I’m already listening to Christmas music and LOVING it.   It works when I’m trying to drown out the terrible music and voices of certain co-workers.

PPS:  I asked my doctor if I would be required to take the shitty glucose test again with this child since I clearly am not at risk for gestational diabetes, per my last test and pregnancy.  She said yes, absolutely.  COOL.  So I asked her if I could eat a little something beforehand this time, because I’m not really into passing out.  To my surprise, she told me yes!  But she said to keep it to things without sugar.  So, eggs, whole grain toast…things like that would be good.  Totally doing that this time.  SCREW THE GLUCOSE TEST.  DAMN THE MAN.

My Fellow Americans

“There was only one assassination attempt on me.  You had three” – from one of my very favorite movies – My Fellow Americans.  Politics will always be politics.  I will always be excited for election day and watching the votes as they come in, state by state.  Especially local elections, obviously.  Probably because I’ve always wanted to run for office, or because I’ve worked in local government.

I refuse to post on Facebook about the election, so I will take to my blog in an effort to vent about the morons on Facebook.  I swear it was better when social media didn’t exist.  People are seriously ready to jump off bridges.  To me, it is comical.  I read a few posts late last night and early this morning, and it just kills me how dramatic everyone is being.

“I am so glad that I don’t have kids.  It’s going to be a challenge to raise them in the next four years”

“I am crying right now because I am worried about my children’s futures”

“Is this really happening right now?”

“What a sad day for the world”

And my personal favorite, from someone in the office today, “I’m just worried that we’re going to get nuked”

GROW THE FUCK UP, PEOPLE.

Guess what?  It’s going to be a challenge to raise your kid no matter who is in office.  BECAUSE YOU ARE THEIR PARENT.  Hardest job in the world.  But that’s no reason to not have kids.  Things could always be worse.  We don’t live in a third world country where food and clean water is unavailable to us.  Our kids’ futures are what we as parents put into them.  I can tell you that President Obama did not help me at all with baby #1 or how I have raised her up to this point, and none of his policies burdened/ benefited my family in the process.  Unless you want to count the fact that paid FMLA is still not mandated, in which case, every president has sucked up to this point.  Although I can appreciate that he recently signed a law mandating changing tables in BOTH men’s and women’s restrooms alike.  That will benefit moms and dads everywhere.  Other than that – no impact. Business as usual.

Guess what?  The entire U.S. is not automatically considered racist because Trump was elected.  Evidently, the majority of this country wants change.  SHOCKER.  There are other reasons people voted for Trump, and I’m sure the majority of people didn’t do so in hopes of a wall going up or demeaning women.  But they probably agreed with some of his other views, which would directly impact their family for the better, and voted for him.

Let’s try to stay positive and realize that we are not doomed for the next four years.

Everything is going to be okay.    And if it’s not, we will unify and work through it together, like we always do.  Because that is the beauty of living in America.

“Hail to the chief, if you don’t, I’ll have to kill you. I am the chief, so you better watch your step, you bastards.”