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.

 

 

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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.

33 Weeks and 4 Days

After I showered this morning, I looked down and thought the following things:

(1)  Shit, I should really shave my legs soon.  This will be embarrassing if I go into labor.

(2)  Shit, I really need to schedule a bikini wax.  This will be embarrassing if I go into labor.

A few things happened during my first labor and delivery.  I was lucky, you could say.  The day my water broke, I was at a bridal shower for my sister-in-law.  It was April, so I was wearing a cute wrap dress and heels.  I was required to look nice, so I had just shaved my legs that morning, straightened my hair, and even did my nails.

I had also started on my every-few-week bikini waxes.  Really, just another excuse to go to the spa and get something else done.  So I got my bikini wax the Thursday before I went into labor.  Again, perfect timing.  Even though I didn’t know in advance that I would end up having to get an episiotomy, I was lucky with that, too (in my opinion).  I feel like the less going on down there, the better off you are when someone is trying to stitch up your lady parts.

My fear is that this time, everything will be the opposite.  Meaning I might actually feel the contractions before my water breaks (if it breaks at all prematurely), that I will have put off shaving my legs too long, or that I will have missed my bikini wax appointment.  I know – some of these things are stupid, but I think I took them for granted last time because everything just worked out so well!

The good news is that the chances of my water breaking early are higher because it has already happened to me.  As long as I have time to get that epidural in, I will be okay.  That is the part that scares me the most, honestly.  How can it ever get easier to let someone insert a needle into your spine without moving a muscle?

I also asked my doctor if I would end up needing another episiotomy this time around.  The recovery sucked big time (again, in my experience, the recovery was worse than the actual labor and delivery process for sure).  She said it would be very unlikely that I would need to get cut again, because my body “knows what to do” this time around, and as such, labor shouldn’t last as long (so she says).

I was in the hospital last week for dehydration and contractions (I will save the details for a different post), but they ended up doing a bedside ultrasound to check on baby.  This was nice because I didn’t get to have one that late in the game for my first because she was so early.  Anyhow, the ultrasound tech showed me the kid already has two centimeters of hair on his or her head.  THANKS FOR THE HEARTBURN!  Oh well, at least we won’t have a bald baby 🙂

WE COULD HAVE BABY #2 IN TWO WEEKS!  YIKES!

 

 

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 🙂

Gestational Diabetes

Got the call Saturday to confirm from my doctor that I DO NOT have gestational diabetes (duh).  After three days of separate blood draws after 8 hours fasts, my glucose levels came back as follows:  74, 75, 75.  The normal range is between 70 and 100.  YEAH!  Not even close to the problem zone.

The nurses working in the lab told me how lucky I was that my doctor allowed me to check for GD this way.  Many of the doctors will make you take the one hour test again, or at minimum the three hour test.  NO THANKS.  I know what my body can handle, and I think my doctor realized this, seeing as this was the second pregnancy with the same reaction to the Glucola drink of death.  What I wish I had known in the past is that you can pretty much turn down any test that they want you to take.  It is your body.  Your baby.  If you don’t want to know if there are any birth defects, etc, that is your right.  It obviously would not change the fact that some would still proceed with the pregnancy.

Someone just asked me my due date at work.  I told them April 2.   The lady replied with, “So that means you could really go as early as March 2 if this pregnancy is similar to Kenzie’s, right?”    YIKES.  So yes, it could be less than two months before we have two children under two in our house.  What the fuck were we thinking?

To make things even more fun and exciting, we are going to start potty training our 20 month old.  Because what sounds like more fun than that while 7 months pregnant? I just cannot fathom having two in diapers.   What’s worse is that my husband doesn’t get it.  I think he believes that if we talk to her enough about it, she will just walk over to her little princess potty and pop a squat.  Uh, no.

I explained to him that starting this weekend, she would be walking around without pants or a diaper on.  His response:  I already had to potty train Rory (our dog) like that, I’m not doing that with a human.  We have to be 100% on board with this training method.  Realistically, we should do it when we have a 3 or 4 day weekend.  The good thing is that our babysitter will be on board whenever we are ready to start, so we will have that support too.

I already told him I would be cleaning up the messes out of the potty training potty because it grosses him out.  It’s funny, because he loves cleaning so much.  But when it comes to that stuff, no thanks.  He once accidentally dropped his razor into the toilet, because our cabinet is directly above the toilet (way to plan that).  He wouldn’t get it!  He made me do it.  There was nothing in the toilet, either – just clean water (I know, there are still germs in there, but grow up, man!)   If I wasn’t home, he would have fished it out with a hanger or something, and then thrown everything away (it was a brand new razor – he is insane).

And one more win for momma:  I got my husband to buy a recliner/ rocker.  A crucial component to new motherhood if you are breastfeeding.  I wish I had known ahead of time how important it would have been.  I thought I was doing us a favor and saving us some money.  In the long run, my posture and back suffered BIG TIME.  It’s hard to nurse a tiny little human when you are sitting on a bed or a deep sectional couch.  I felt like the hunchback of Notre Dame after a few months.  And NO, the Boppy did not help me at all.  Maybe my torso is too long/ too short?  Maybe my arms or shoulders weren’t strong enough for feeding on demand CONSTANTLY?  I really don’t know what it was, but I do know that a rocker/ recliner would have solved a lot of my issues with baby #1.  Looking forward to sitting on the rocker and watching Everybody Loves Raymond reruns in the middle of the night with baby #2.  I might even be able to fall asleep in that fancy chair!