sueeeus

I have no idea what day it is, but today, the mailman rang the doorbell and left a package on my front porch.  I was attempting to nurse my little monkey, and my three year old decided he wanted to get the door, to which I vehemently objected, to which he belligerently disobeyed.  Oh, it’s so exasperating, trying to teach one this age why he can’t do certain things like answer the front door.  By himself.

But look at the goodness that arrived!  A gift from MsCellania!  Soft, warm fuzzies for both of my boys, so that BB wouldn’t feel left out.  And look at the adorable monkey fabrics, that are perfect for my new little monkey!

Thank you!!  I haven’t even told BB that the big race car blankie is for him — he’s still working on finishing his breakfast.  Yes, it’s 8:30 p.m.  He asked for a peanut butter and jam sandwich this morning, then ate about three bites and commenced a full day of play and mischief.  I bagged the sandwich and let it be known that that would be lunch, and if it didn’t get eaten then, it would be dinner.  So.  Dinner it is.  When he finishes, I’ll give him the blanket, and he will be delighted.  🙂

Thank you so much, M!!

This is all I had to show after a span of six hours.  Pathetic.  Things are improving.  They’ve gone from dismal to less dismal, but still pathetic.  Life in two hour increments was killing me.  It takes a full one of those hours to pump, decant, clean, feed, diaper, and burp, leaving the other hour to use the bathroom, sleep, shower, attend to the other child, etc etc etc.  So I switched to three hour compartments.  It’s so liberating!  That extra hour is pure wealth, and I can actually get reasonable naps in here and there.  I even made banana bread today, with such an abundance of time on my hands.

I’m the luckiest mom ever, because LB is the best baby.  He’s so content, except when diapering.  He has the biggest, brightest eyes, when they’re open.

He’s so laid back.  When he’s awake, he just kicks back and looks around, calm and content as can be. (Yes, I know the pictures are blurry; I thought they were in focus when I took them, but I’m living life in a blur right now, so what do I really know?)

BB, on the other hand, is proving to be quite a challenge, with the adjustments of late.  He’s a love, really, but his one year old cousin is here all week, and sharing attention and toys and life in general with so many others is a difficult thing for a three year old. I think he will do better when it’s back to just the four of us.  Even so, he does need to learn how to behave and obey, regardless of how many other people are here.  I let him pretend he was a baby last night, and snuggled him in my lap and spoon fed him his lunch, then tucked him in for a nap, and stroked his face and talked to him, telling him that’s what I used to do when he was a baby.  He really liked that moment of attention, and took a nice, long, refreshing nap.  It was very good for him, to get some rest.

I simply do not know how mothers of more than two can function.

The apple of my eye.

Born 12:51 p.m. on 27 Aug 2008

10lbs 6oz at 38 weeks

We are well!

More to come…

I’m ready.  I’m NOT ready!  This is THE DAY.  The end of this journey and the beginning of the next.  The journey in which LB joins our family at last.

I’m not sure I can articulate my feelings, but I think it’s important that I try.  How can I begin to express my gratitude that I’ve been blessed to be a mother, twice over?  Two boys.  The mother of two beautiful boys.

There’s such a difference, from the baby leaving my body and coming out into the world.  The sheer sense of responsibility is almost overwhelming.  I know what it’s like, having been down this road with BB.  All the same.  Today, life will be much different.

Possibly some of this is the knowledge that this may truly be the end of this journey for me, that I will never be pregnant again, never carry another child, never bring a daughter into this world.

I don’t think I honestly want more than two — my body is not young, and there is much effort in raising children well.

Only a few hours more and our family of three becomes a family of four.  I suppose I am a bit terrified of what lies ahead, but for no good reason.  BB is nothing but a joy and delight.

A family of four!  How can it be anything but beautiful?!

I think perhaps the trepidation is merely that fear of change, of leaving one’s comfort zone and becoming accustomed to a new reality.

In a way, it’s like that feeling you get when you’re on a roller coaster, when you’re strapped in to the seat, motoring ever so slowly towards the peak, wondering to yourself why on earth you decided to get on this ride, and knowing that there’s no turning back and you absolutely must and will face the inevitable, that very, very soon you will be plummeting over the edge.  And as you drop, your fears crash through your stomach as you hurtle down, down, downward.  And then it’s over, and you’ve survived, and all is well.  (And sometimes you run right back, to queue for another go!)

So today, I’m nearing the precipice in this roller coaster seat, and the tension is rising in my throat.  In but a few hours, the drop.  And then it will all be over.  I will hold my precious new son in my arms, put him to my breast, and love him fiercely until the day I die.

A mother.  Again.  The dream of all my dreams, coming true.  How blessed I am.  How absolutely and completely blessed.

LB, my LB.  My dear, sweet LB.

LB and BB.  My boys.  My sons.

I am a mother.

So blessed.

BB is fascinated by the whole blood sugar testing and insulin administration process. Every time I stick my finger, he runs to see the drop of blood. Did you bleed? Satisfied with the size of the drop, he then proclaims, Ouchie! Every single time. Next, he likes to pick the injection site, and watches intently as I proceed. Sometimes it stings or pinches, and he says, “Did I not pick the right spot?” Sometimes it bleeds a bit, and he says, “Maybe you hit a bain (vein).”

Sometimes I’ll catch him playing make-believe with scraps of junk mail or whatnot, and he’ll be ‘testing his blood sugar.’ I hope he never actually needs to. Diabetes seems to be prevalent on my side of the family.

Less than two weeks left of insulin therapy, and I can put all the needle paraphernalia away. It’s not so bad, really, but I’ll be glad to be done with this part. It’s quite something, how the blood sugar can return to normal once the placenta is gone. I’m very curious whether my numbers will be stable or not, when it’s all said and done. I’m not planning on resuming the metformin for a little while, just so I can see.

I’m hoping to come out of this pregnancy with a net weight loss. I gained 7 lbs in the first 32 weeks, and 11 lbs between 32-36 weeks, 5 of which came on last week. So I assume that the recent 11 lbs is mostly water (as evidenced by the size of my ankles and the indentations left in my skin with the least amount of pressure), baby and placenta and amniotic fluid probably account for about 15-20, so I should be down a net 10 or so once LB arrives, and that 10 should help my blood sugar numbers. So. We shall see.

Barricade, as those in the know, know, is the name of the Transformer Decepticon that masquerades as a police car. So, whenever a police car is spotted, there is always an excited exclamation, “It’s Barricade!!!!”

Last week, BB happened to peer out the window and started jumping up and down, “TWO BARRICADES!!!!!!”

As it turns out, we have some fine neighbors. One woman was arrested. We don’t know the story. The house next door has recently had the garage converted to another house, so there are two rental houses where there used to be one, and all sorts of noises and late night parties and general mayhem seems to take place there.

This morning we were working out front, pruning and weeding, and a child was crying for over an hour at the top of his/her lungs. A very, very unhappy child. What does one do? Poor thing was miserable, obviously. And then some adult yelling and shouting started, and escalated. It went on for quite some time, and eventually Gadget called the sheriff. I was a bit nervous about this, as we were obviously the only people outside, so the call would most likely have come from us, and who knows what these people might do. I tend to be nervous about things like that, being a chicken $#!t and all. The thing is, you never know what violent people might end up doing. Because they don’t seem too concerned about reeling in their emotions and all. Anyhow, not long after, along came “TWO BARRICADES!!!!!!” Apparently they come in pairs for domestic violence calls? Second time in less that two weeks. Nice.

Some day we might move to a neighborhood with a little higher socio-economic demographic, perhaps. If we can afford it. Our little cul-de-sac is generally quite nice, apart from this set of neighbors. And we don’t spend much time outside, for whatever reason. I just hope all remains safe.

In more happy news, BB earned enough Good Boy points for his next prize. He’s very pleased. Once he gets the hang of this Good Boy business, we’ll start making him work a bit harder for his points. So far it’s an excellent tool, though. It’s working great! He helps me load the dishwasher, make the bed, hang the towels, pick up toys, wash the counters, put things in the recycle or trash bins, and such. Of course I have to actually do most of these things in tandem, or re-do them, but he’s learning, and that’s the important thing. I am very pleased as well. My beautiful boy. He fills my world with much joy.

Even with the two barricades incident, I’m feeling like I’ve had a happy, happy day. Our front yard no longer competes with the front yard on Malcolm in the Middle, we have a full tank of fuel in the van, a refrigerator filled with good vegetables, fruits, milk, cheese and eggs, the baby hammock is up, the sheets and towels are clean, the hospital bag is half-packed, and we had a delicious supper of grilled sirloin and asparagus, red peppers, onions, and mushrooms. Gadget hasn’t produced the car seat yet, but he insists he knows exactly where it is.

That’s one of BB’s favorite phrases, spoken with much drama and inflection. Hey, wait a second, you forgot to make me my dragon! Spoken less than a day after making it known that he’d like a dragon, too, just like LB’s. (Which I hadn’t actually made, yet.)

Silly goose, I didn’t forget. I just haven’t had time yet! As if I could whip one up with a wave of my magical wand. I did manage to produce it that day, though, and BB was quite pleased. I followed up last night with LB’s, which didn’t turn out as well, in some respects, but turned out better in others. It’s all a learning experience. I used the serger on LB’s and the seams, when turned, aren’t as pretty. But I also used it to connect as many of the pieces as possible prior to stuffing, so it came out much stronger. LB’s has the white belly, and BB’s is all blue cloud. They’re sweet. I enlarged the pattern as much as I could with my printer, and this is the result.

All in a day’s work. Well, an afternoon and evening. I also made a hedgehog pincussion from a pattern I got while visiting Suse earlier this year, and using some of that scrumptious hand dyed wool felt from Winterwood Toys.

I think it’s adorable!

I do enjoy the hand stitching and small feltwork much more than the machine work. I also think I’m finished sewing for a while. I’ve been on a maniacal roll with it of late. I think it’s a form of nesting. I’ve taken all the sewing and craft doodads that have been cluttering my office and organized them and filed them away neatly. My office is looking a bit tidier, and this gives me comfort.

Now. On the agenda for today: prune the front yard shrubbery, pull the weeds, and trim the grass (all very long overdue – the approach to our house is frankly embarrassing). Set up the baby hammock. Retrieve the infant sized car seat and base from storage. Get groceries and fuel the car. Wash sheets and towels. Pack my hospital bag. Give BB lots of opportunities to earn Good Boy Stars so that he can possibly get a ‘prize’ today (Gadget happened upon the coveted Batman costume and it’s hidden away for the next Good Boy milestone). Not a bad list for a Saturday. Maybe tomorrow I’ll update my blog software. Or not. I keep getting these notices of important security updates. BORING. No more sewing, though.

Spurred by a recent visit to Target in which we found it impossible to steer past the toy aisle without the young lad going berserk, I devised a plan. No, you can’t have everything you see and everything you want. These things are privileges, and you must earn them.

Okay, so I tried to put it in terms of 3-1/2 year old language skills. The Good Boy Chart. I made a set of magnets with happy pictures and a chart with ten spaces to fill. Good boy deeds earn magnets. But they can also be forfeited. So it’s one step forward, two steps back. But he gets it! So all week he’s been working on earning stars, and he is now very close to earning a reward. He wants a Batman mask.

Last night he opted to continue with his bad behavior, and have a star removed. It was quite amazing to me, that he weighed the cost of the transgression, and decided he’d rather go on doing what he was doing, which was something he wasn’t supposed to be doing, but which was FUN! …and forfeit a star.

I can see we’re going to have our work cut out for us.

We did remove the star, then he decided he’d go ahead and stop doing what he wasn’t supposed to be doing. He wanted the star back, because he’d stopped, but I explained that he had had his chance, and now he has to earn it back again.

I’m a tough mamma-jamma.

*~*~*~*~*~*

My 8 year old nephew is spending the weekend, and my little guy’s behavior slides drastically during such times. He (my nephew) is the sweetest boy, but I think my son just gets too wound up and excited to have him here. Consequently, there were meltdowns and a significant loss of stars. This morning we worked hard doing jobs to earn them back. Sadly, Target was freshly out of the coveted Batman mask, but happily, they had a bazillion other things to choose from, and my little one was tickled pink to get to choose… …a Transformer -Barricade- which also, as luck would have it, was marked down to $5 from $20. Woot.

Good Things

• 3 a.m. – realizing there is a warm little body burrowed against mine, even though he was soundly sleeping in his own bed at last recollection. I do want him to feel safe, secure, and confident, and I do want him to develop healthy independence, but I also want to savor the snuggle time for as long as I can.
• coffee at 4 a.m. when I’m all swollen and can’t sleep (not so much the swollen and can’t sleep part, though)
• colostrum. 34 weeks and it’s here – my body is working! This pleases me immensely.
• a peaceful quiet house, all to myself (even though I’ll be paying for it in a few hours). Not so much the rude awakening that I’m not alone, and sharing the otherwise tranquility with a monstrously large moth, and where the hell did it come from anyway? (Swearing, although a rarity with me, is not uncommon when monstrously large flying creatures invade one’s space.)
• broccoli, steamed and smothered in butter. Normally I wouldn’t indulge in the decadence of butter, but when I do, oh my. Yesterday’s dinner.
• sweet corn. Miraculously enough, it doesn’t wreak havoc on the blood sugar. The broccoli wasn’t enough, so I had corn too. Yes, we’re all about fine and lovingly prepared meals around here.
• the prospect of a healthy baby

Not so Good Things

• insomnia
• bladder capacity (lack thereof)
• monstrously large flying creatures invading one’s space
• edema
• full body aches
• muscle cramps
• insulin resistance; diabetes
• employer changed medical insurance plans mid-year requiring more out of pocket expenses, additional paperwork, deductibles, and higher copays
• the strange numb and unpleasant but not so much painful feeling on the surface of my skin at the peak of my belly (by my navel, which somehow remains an innie) when my belly inadvertently but invariably brushes against anything

Things to Do

• buy newborn size diapers. I have a case of size 1, but they may be a bit big for the first couple of weeks.
• set up the baby hammock
• unpack baby items – bibs, burp cloths, breast pump, all that good stuff
• preregister at the hospital
• pack my hospital bag
• discuss leave of absence and return to work plans with my boss
• make daycare arrangements – the babysitter is going to Poland on August 20th, without consulting me first. Imagine.
• wrap up work projects. HAHAHAHAAHAHAAHHAHAHAHH. Actually, I probably will leave things in good shape for my backups. I’m responsible and considerate that way.
• clean and organize the fridge and freezer
• get more rest

Today I happened across a blog in which the author is a young (looking) gorgeous mother of three, who is a mixed media artist living in a showcase home in Long Island. I gaze upon the photos of her home and her studio and see nothing but success, and wonder how on earth can such a young person have so much (seeming) perfection in her life. The answer may be that she is married to someone who provided that incredible home, and that she is free to work her crafts, mother, and fulfill her soul. Or maybe she or they inherited. She has lovely craft, but it doesn’t seem to be the volume or price to afford such a home.

For so many, the mere act of providing a home, any home, is nearly overwhelming, and in order to do so, one often has to sacrifice one’s crafts, one’s self-expressive dreams, whatever they may be, to make the ends meet. And we make nice homes for ourselves, with what we have within our reach. They may not be showcases with gleaming surfaces and architectural intricacies, but they are the places that we call our own.  And our lives may seem harried, with the strains of mothering, working, and wifing consuming us, leaving us spent and too weary to pursue our craft with the purity we’d like to afford it.

How I imagine I’d love to have a showcase home, studio, and life!   Not to showcase, but just to love and enjoy. Because I love beautiful design and style. And quality. My home is an average suburban home. It’s a comfortable and lived in home. A showcase home is not within my immediate means (without taking on substantial debt). Some day, perhaps… …but not now.  And a showcase life may never be in my stars.

I’m not a business woman, so the peddling of craft is a mystery to me. I’d so much rather give it away. Something about putting things up for sale takes away from the joy of the craft. Or maybe it’s because the price I’d want for the effort and love and thought put toward something is so much more than I’d feel that I could or should ask, so I’d rather just not ask. (Also, the quality that I’d produce most likely wouldn’t pass my expectations, so I’d not entitle myself to price things anyway. Perfectionism can be a curse.) Idyllic as it seems, if I crafted for a living, perhaps I wouldn’t enjoy it as much. I’m not sure that I’d know how to marry business with pleasure.

There was a brief twinge of jealousy, while browsing that blog. Living in a beautiful home, working one’s art, mothering and wifing. It seemed so ideal. And so far away. And reading of recent events in local blogland as well. Other people’s lives. They seem so charming, or so full, or so successful, or so something. Something that mine is not.

It’s crazy, though, because my life is actually incredible, and full to overflowing with blessings, if I’d only take a moment to count them.

For instance.