It's been terribly hard to even get on the internet since well, sleeping is more needed and wanted at this point. It's not that The Child wakes up 75,33,4356456 times during the night; it's that in between the 75,33,4356456 times that he wakes up he's making the weirdest noises (think the horse from Mr. Ed) when he's asleep. He's so loud when he shouldn't be that it's keeping me up. Plus he has the most horrible habit of waking up at quarter to six and staying up until around 8:30am ish. But I digress. My point for posting was this: there was something that I neglected to tell you guys about the birth story. Something that I've just now been able to deal with.

When The Child was born, the cord was wrapped around his neck and he wasn't breathing. His apgar was only 2 when it should've been much higher. They had to use a breathing mask on him and stimulate him for the longest minutes of my life before he started to cry and breathe well. He was so purple and mewey before that happened that I really thought I'd lose him. It's the worse feeling in the world and I don't wish that on anyone at all. I don't know what I would've done had I lost him, I would've seriously considered killing myself most likely. I don't think I would've been able to cope. Seeing his teeny little body being taken from me so that they could help him breathe ripped my heart into shreds. Thank God that he was okay and was able to come back into my arms soon after since I would've probably lost it if he would've had to go to be taken to the hospital. But now my little boy is sleeping soundly by my side and thriving and I can't be more thankful to God. The Lord has truly blessed my life with this little boy and I can't begin to say how much better my life is now that he is here.

Daniel! (or The Child as he will be reffered to from now on)

Friday morning I woke up with some braxton hicks and went in for my 38 week apt and was told by the midwife that I was 2-3 centimeters dilated, 90% effaced and baby was engaged. Of course, I hadn't bought a car seat, the prefolds had not been dyed, bags haven't been packed and I hadn't even bought the stuff I needed for postpartum. Fortunately I was able to get out of work early and swing by the store to pick up the car seat. I continued to have more braxton hicks through the day but around 8pm they became real labor pains (took me talking to the mw for awhile to realize that they'd become real labor pains). I guess I should back up a bit and say that on Weds nite I felt a "shift" in my body but wasn't sure what it meant. I tried to get some sleep friday nite but the contractions wouldn't let me sleep. They were 15 mins apart and at 2am I told The Hubby to take me to the birth center because I was sure that this kid was coming this weekend. By the time that my MIL came over to watch The Kid (we didn't want to wake him to take him with us), we swung about 15 mins the opposite way to find an open pharmacy so that The Hubby could get some antacids, and made it to the birth center, it was 3am.

When we got there she checked me and I was dilated to a 6-7 but the cervix was still at 90%. By the time that the tub was filled the contractions were coming in around every 5 mins. Dear lord it was sooo good getting in that tub. Of course, I stalled my own labor by relaxing so much I fell asleep in the tub twice so The Hubby made me stand up and walk a bit in the tub between contractions. The last little bit of the cervix just would not give and it was still a bit too thick for her to be able to slip it under the head so at 8:30am we decided to break my water. Stubborn cervix still wouldn't give way until just past 9am. Near the end, the pain was so great that I'm pretty sure had I been at the hospital I would've begged for a csect. It was only the encouragement from the mw and The Hubby that kept me from being transferred to the hospital even though I kept telling them that I couldn't do it and they needed to figure out a way to get that baby out NOW! At 9:15 I got the go ahead to start pushing and he came at 9:26am. The cord was wrapped around his neck once and it took a bit of help to get him breathing properly. Turned out that he was a bit earlier than expected. The mw said that going by his feet, ears, and the amount of vernix covering him; that he'd JUST turned 37 weeks. Figures that my due dates were off.

The only good thing about having him early was that he weighed 8 lbs 1 oz and his head measured 14 inches. I can't even fathom how much bigger his head would've been had he been full term. AND I had no tearing! I was so relieved by that! Even though he was born at 9:26, they couldn't get him weighted or measured until 11:30am because the boy would not come off the boob Everytime that I thought he'd finished and would remove him from the breast, he'd complain. He's been nursing so well that my milk's almost fully in and he's had four bowel movements already. Hope all that meconium is fully out cuz I forgot to put a liner in the first couple of diapers and they got dirty with meconium. He needs a haircut in the worse possible way too

We got discharged at 1pm but I had to wait a while while The Hubby went and got the carseat installed and took The Kid to the sitter's. Of course, when MIL came over the house to visit the first thing out of her mouth was "I thought you were having twins, they left one inside you." If looks could kill, I would be in jail right now. Her only saving grace was that the pastor's wife was present and she steered the conversation away. But the whole time I was giving MIL the deathlook and didn't speak to her directly for the rest of their visit. I doubt that I'll be as cordial to her next time I see her. Here he is with big bro

It's been hecka crazy busy around here between work and home. Plus, I've been trying to get to 1000 posts on the mothering board I belong to so I've been neglecting you guys in the process. sowwey.:( Still working, still pregnant, am huuge. Am so big, if I went to seaworld dressed in black right now, they wouldn't let me out. Katie, where the heck are you? You better be hooked up to a murder machine or be repeatedly stabbed in the eye with a spork or I'll go over to where you are and do it myself. Geez woman, you act as though JTHM has you in his basement or something. Although knowing you, you probably went to find Johnen and discovered that JTHM does exist. No fair, I wanted to be there when you went to his house. Hopefully this bean will come out before the 10th of Jan so that I can go on maternity leave already. It's getting to be ridiculous to walk/bounce up and down the four flights of stairs every single day.

In The Kid news, we're starting potty training. yay(can you tell am extremely excited? snort) easier said than done with someone that will purposefully NOT do anything in the potty when sat on it for two hours and wait for the moment you get him up to poop on himself and hide. I swear he must like the squishy feeling....

And we have some sort of beetle infestation in the house. We have no idea what the heck they are except that they:
a)look like teeny beetles (smaller than a grain of rice)
b)are brown
c)fly
d)seem to like the food pantry
e)the bomb thingie doesn't do anything for them
f)are NOT fleas

we think that they came in the house through some non refridgerable produce bought at the farmer's market and we don't know how the heck to get them out of the house.

Whether you have had children, taught children or just observed children in the grocery store,

you're gonna love this one:

I've been teaching now for about fifteen years. I have two kids myself, but the best birth story I know is the one I saw in my own second grade classroom a few years back.

When I was a kid, I loved show-and-tell. So I always have a few sessions with my students. It helps them get over shyness and usually, show-and-tell is pretty tame. Kids bring in pet turtles, model airplanes, pictures of fish they catch, stuff like that. And I never, ever place any boundaries or limitations on them. If they want to lug it in to school and talk about it, they're welcome.

Well, one day this little girl, Erica, a very bright, very outgoing kid, takes her turn and waddles up to the front of the class with a pillow stuffed under her sweater.

She holds up a snapshot of an infant. "This is Luke, my baby brothe r, and I'm going to tell you about his birthday."

"First, Mom and Dad made him as a symbol of their love, and then Dad put a seed in my Mom's stomach, and Luke grew in there. He ate for nine months through an umbrella cord."

She's standing there with her hands on the pillow, and I'm trying not to laugh and wishing I had my camcorder with me. The kids are watching her in amazement.

"Then, about two Saturdays ago, my Mom starts saying and going, 'Oh, Oh, Oh, Oh!' Erica puts a hand behind her back a nd groans. "She walked around the house for, like an hour, 'Oh, oh, oh!' (Now this kid is doing a hysterical duck walk and groaning.)

"My Dad called the middle wife. She delivers babies, but she doesn't have a sign on the car like the Domino's man. They got my Mom to lie down in bed like this." (Then Erica lies down wi th her back against the wall.)

"And then, pop! My Mom had this bag of water she kept in there in case he got thirsty, and it just blew up and spilled all over the bed, like psshhheew!" (This kid has her legs spread with her little hands miming water flowing away. It was too much!)

"Then the middle wife starts saying 'push, push,' and 'breathe, breathe. They started counting, but never even got past ten. Then, all of a sudden , out comes my brother. He was covered in yucky stuff that they all said it was f rom Mom's play-center, so there must be a lot of toys inside there."


got this off my board.

Then Erica stood up, took a big theatrical bow and returned to her seat. I'm sure I applauded the loudest. Ever since then, when it's show-and-tell day, I bring my camcorder, just in case another "Middle Wife" comes along.

Please be advised that your cashier might have the mental capacity of a coffeemaker.


Seriously, I went there to cash one of my WIC checks (we really wouldn't be able to get by without them) and to those that aren't familiar, a wic check usually consists of: 2 gallons of milk, 1 pound of cheese, 2 bottles of juice, cereal, peanut butter.

Anyways, I went there and got all the stuff in the check and went to the checkout. I had two eight ounce packets of the wic cheese which is the only way you can get the cheese at this particular walmart since they don't have the pound packets. But I digress. I was confronted by the cashier and told that because my check was for ONE POUND of cheese, I could only get one EIGHT OUNCE pack otherwise I'd be taking more cheese than I should.

Let me do the math for you: one pound equals 16 ounces. 8+8=16. That means that two eight ounce packets of cheese are the same as one 16 ounce packet of cheese. I was totally embarassed for her. She wasn't an elderly person, nor an overly young lady. She was around my age (halfway to 50 if you're keeping track) and seemed smart enough on the outside (at least smart enough to wear about a thousand dollar's worth of gold chains around her neck, five inch perfectly manicured nails, and a hairdo that would set me back at least a hundred big ones) so I didn't understand what her problem was. Yes, the manager had to be called and yes, everyone in the line and the manager were looking at her like she'd grown three heads. I didn't yell at her or anything, I was just completely dumbfounded that she could somehow think that eight ounces equals one pound.