Week 35: Boobs, Braxton-Hicks and Babies

So August is apparently national breast feeding awareness month. I've read several other blogs on the topic and I'm not going to re-hash what others have said better. I will say that I feed my kids when they are hungry, I don't go into the bathroom and I'm not embarrassed to sit in a restaurant, mall, doctors office or national sporting event and feed my kid the way god and nature intended us to feed our kids. When Hooters closes, Victoria's secret stops having fashion shows and people in general start wearing a whole lot more clothing, I might move to a more secluded spot, until then, tough titties, you don't want to see someone using boobs for what they exist to do, don't look.

And that's all I've got to say about that.

I'm having tons of braxton-hicks contractions. they are not painful but they do remind me that time is growing short and I am woefully unprepared for the insanity that is headed my way. This week I got the baby clothes sorted from Doodle and re-arranged the nursery to make way for Squirt's crib. I still have so much to do before he gets here. My spare room is a little wild since we are still not fully able to use the master closet. I still have a giant pile of craft crap that needs a home and am in the midst of attempting to set up a munch craft space somewhere in the house. As far as baby items, we have mostly everything we need. The crib is not imperative prior to him coming home because he'll sleep in the bassinet for the first few weeks anyway. everything else is ready and in place.

I've  been having the girls lug, load, transition, fold and put away their own laundry each week which has significantly cut down on my work load. They each have their own basket and when it's full they do laundry. Then they put it away and All I have to do is supervise. It's kinda nice.Our house is cleaner than it has ever been. Seems like Jeeves has gotten the nesting bug too and we are both cleaning like mad. He tends to over mop and go a little vacuum crazy while I tend to organize so I can find things when I need them. Soon there will be no "catch all" area where crap gets piled. I'm slowly liquidating the crap and if it doesn't have a place, it doesn't stay in the house. Either the shed, the dumpster or the goodwill get it.  

Oh, I am tired. nature tends to help mom to be get ready for the sleepless nights that follow giving birth by in-acting a late term insomnia on some women. The only problem with that is that nature is also preparing my body to make milk for Squirt by releasing large amounts of prolactin, which makes you sleepy among other things. I'm starting to slur my words and think that I'm hallucination when Doodles toys start making noises in the toy box with no one touching them. The Toy Story music song book is the worst because the music it plays in the middle of the night is a little jarring and creepy.


Wait...I said what?

The life of a mother is never dull, and to illustrate that point, here are some statements that I have actually made recently.

-Where are you underwear? (we were at walmart)

-Why does your brother smell like perfume?

-Cupcakes are not dinner unless you are in college.

-Stop chasing people to put stickers on them.

-Oh god, why are you wet?

-Everyone in church doesn't need to see your underwear (thank god she was wearing them)

-If you don't get your hands out of your sleeves I'm going to cut them off, your hands, not the sleeves.

-You don't get to be the boss until you pay the bills.

-Your sister doesn't need another mom, hush.

-Your brother is not a dog, stop whistling at him.

-Why is your face purple?

-If you make that noise again I'm going to cancel Christmas.

-Dude, you smell.

-Hey, no more underwear jokes until you remember to put them on every morning.

-nope, keep running, you have enough energy to run in my house; you can keep doing laps around the yard.

-the next person who giggles doesn't get to have a birthday next year.


You mean we have pee again?

As I may have mentioned, I live with two skinny, sassy little girls and am currently pregnant. What may not be obvious about this situation is that these two separate circumstances equate to an enormous amount of time being spent in bathrooms. On the occasions where I am also hanging out with one of my three nieces, the bathroom traffic increases to nearly rush hour levels.

For instance, during a grocery/school shopping trip last week with my two soon to be students and mother I was in the bathroom at Walmart 4 times. We were in the store for less than an hour. Shut the front door!
While I appreciate the clean factor and non-creepiness of the Walmart bathrooms, I am a little miffed about spending so much time in there. It's weird that I know which stall has a working lock AND and hook so your purse doesn't have to sit on the floor.

Additionally my soon to be born son has taken a liking to waking me up 3-4 times a night with swift kicks to the bladder that both hurt and have me hobbling to the bathroom like an arthritic moose, trying not to wet myself and hoping that none of the other three hear me awake and think it's party time, (I'm looking at you Doodle!)

It's summer, in Missouri, which means I'm gulping down fluids to keep dehydration from setting in and help my system not retain water which increases the bathroom trips as well. It also doesn't help that I want to eat water rich foods all the time. Watermelon, cucumbers, and celery are almost daily additions to my diet these days. Filling, full of fiber and cool they are perfect pregnant food. sort of.

So that's my life these days, tired, potty filled and more than a little irritated about having to be both productive and nice to the people around me. It's harder than you might think.


Baby Center? We Need to Talk...

I appreciate the weekly emails about the blood flow, poundage and fruit ratio of my little bean. But the supplementary emails that tout the benefits of pernieal massage and the evils of Ramen noodles and pizza rolls are damaging to my calm.

The 5 Worst foods during pregnancy?

Apparently one of them is lettuce.

For real, at the one point in your life when your doctor ought to be shouting to the heavens if you choose salad over an extra large chocolate coated cookie sandwich with frosting in the middle, and the baby center geniuses folks say, "Don't eat iceberg lettuce...." (pause for dramatic effect here)

Let's be honest folks, if you are eating a salad while pregnant and you were not Jillian Michael's prior to becoming pregnant there is a better than average chance that salad has any (or all) of the following heaped on top: steak, fried chicken, cheese, 8 cups of dressing, fruit, candied nuts, and maybe broccoli (you know, for fiber) and possibly the tears of the innocent. Come ON!

Like anyone gives a shit about the lack of "nutrient density" of the the vegetable they have chosen as a vessel for pepperoni, ranch and black olives before they begin shoving the accompanying pizza or fettuccine into their face. (I live in Missouri, and when you get a lunch serving of pizza or pasta it is typically accompanied by a salad with pepperoni and black olives, if that's weird to you, look up IMO's; educate yourself.)

Also on this list, frozen and pre-packaged lunch items. Those time saving, sodium packed bundles of disappointment that you turn to when going out is not an option and you forgot to pack your all natural, gluten free, free range, yada, yada mc-yada. Look, no one is choosing to eat the microwave stroganoff because they looked at a pantry full of other healthier options and thought, "Yep, I'm gonna increase my risk of cancer today,"

Let's give preggo, who is already nervous about birth, concerned about that last pre-pregnancy test cocktail, and feeling guilty for not microwaving her cold cut sandwich (cause, eww), a break.

Here's my philosophy, (unless you are craving dirt, clay and cigarette butts, in which case seek help) eat some food, feed your baby and relax because there's enough other crap to worry about each day. Didn't you read about how cell phones can cause your baby to be left handed...gasp! How am I going to troll pinterest and facebook in the bathroom now?

This is week 32, bring the snark!


Uncharted Territory: Pumpkin and Sunshine

My oldest turns 7 tomorrow. She starts 1st grade next week and then goes off to college...yeah I know it's not that fast but I feel the need to hold forth about the oddly disconcerting feeling that I am losing my "I've got this" style of parenting daughter that heretofore made them a joy to be around and people wanted to spend time with them.

They have so much attitude. just at the point where they are able to grasp multiple instructions and actually be helpful around the house, they also lose the ability to hear me speak. It like I'm speaking at dog whistle decibels and they are able to ignore me in ways that are both creative and insanely maddening.

Pumpkin she has apparently lost the desire to wear regular clothes, at 7. I could understand this at 3 or 4 but seriously, how many times do I need to tell one short person to go put something on to cover her ass when company is on the way over. She will wear the same pajamas for 3 days but ask her to find a pair of shorts and a t-shirt and it's lie you've just asked her to search for the holy grail with no camel or water. I have no idea how she makes her spine do that creepy slumping thing, but something must be broken in there for her shoulders to be that close to the ground and yet she still manages to remain upright.

She glares at me when I tell her to do things. Not hard things, any things...all the things. GLARES AT ME, like I've just told her she can never eat another cookie. Hate filled eyes of death, from a 7 year old. I'm not a violent person but this particular behavior makes me want to knock my eldest child into the middle of next week and then kick her ass on Thursday.

I put myself in time out, and look at baby pictures of her to remember the times when she wasn't an anxiety producing troll who seems to live to make me pull my hair out.

Sunshine has her own issues. She wants to help me and is very sweet to me still, but she also doesn't want to help in the ways I actually need help. She wants to cook on the stove and slice apples. I need her to pick up the messes she makes and help me with her brother's toys that are all over the floor because I can't bend over; thanks to my pinched and angry sciatic nerve. When she gets frustrated she whines and cries, like sobbing crying over not being able to find the open package of hot dogs because she wants to eat one.

Waiting is apparently super hard for her and we have at least 4 different "how many days" countdowns going on right now. One till the first day of school, on till the baby comes, Christmas-of course and one to her 6th birthday. She turned 5 in April, I don't see how that number of days even registers with someone who can't consistently count higher than 50.

She also has this seriously obnoxious habit of asking for things and after being told no she makes this, "aaaaawwwwww" sigh/moan/complain/almost cry noise that is the mommy equivalent of nails on the chalk board. I almost had a mental breakdown the other day because at 9:30 am when I told her she couldn't have a ring pop for breakfast she made the noise. I don't remember what happened for the next few minutes, I've sort of blocked them out. She ended up in her room for the better part of the morning, cleaning.
Because, I've decided that's better than spanking.

I don't feel guilty and the house is cleaner. Win-Win.

At this rate, with the snotty-ness being doled out by my daughters, no one is going to want to be around them, but I am going to have the cleanest house on the block.

"Oh you don't like being told to go to bed, that's fine, if you're awake feel free to sort the recycling, empty the dishwasher and straighten the den, I'm going to watch Ink Masters and eat ice cream."
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