Life is a Banquet

Seven Year Itch

IMG_1971.jpg
Originally uploaded by wavybrains.

Seven years ago, today I met Freak. I had known his friend Russ for a few months, and Russ woke up on May 17, 2003 and called his his best friend whom he had known since he was 15 and informed him that he had just had an epiphany and that Freak had to meet me.
Or as Freak puts it, "I'm glad I answered the phone that morning that Russ woke me up from a sound sleep in order to tell me about this girl that he couldn't go out with because she reminded him too much of me!"

Six years ago, we were finishing a VERY rocky first year in a new state, but Kevin was about to buy this house, and we had three cats, so clearly the universe had already determined that we were a done deal.

Five years ago, we were newly married, thus proving the universe right.

Four years ago, we were both in the midst of job changes and were thinking of starting a family.

Three years ago, I was pregnant with Beta-who-turned-out-to-be-Tavy and our relationship felt like it finally reached the rock-solid plateau we spent four years building towards.

Two years ago, that rock-solid foundation was paying off as we watched Tavy learn to crawl and say her first words.

One year ago, we were learning what the terrible twos REALLY means and thinking about whether we would EVER be ready for round two . . .

Today, I am listening to my soul mate, my partner, my best friend, my husband patiently put Tavy to bed while I procrastinate on yet more grading and try to coax Junior into kicking me more. I look at this picture (taken about a month after we met) and beyond thinking how much kinder the years have been to Freak, I see now what I could not then: I see gray hair, years and years of laugh lines, decades of bad hair cuts, no hair cuts, piles of discarded glasses frames, increasing and decreasing belt sizes, job changes, house changes, empty nests, and full hearts.

And just for fun: From our first chat, carefully saved by Freak (Russ actually set us up by saying he was gonna conference with us then claiming technical difficulties):

her (6:46:30 PM): The conference call crashed
her (6:46:32 PM): sorry
her (6:36:40 PM): Russ sent me your web page... See More... See More
her (6:36:42 PM): very cool
her (6:37:04 PM): Where on the pacific is your pic taken?
her (6:37:11 PM): It looks like vancouver
me (6:47:13 PM): on the west coast near seattle
me (6:47:16 PM): very good
her (6:37:25 PM): Ahhh I like that area too
me (6:47:38 PM): I'm going there again in June
me (6:48:05 PM): so i hear you want to see Star Wars?

(edited to protect the not-so-innocent)

( By the end of the convo, close to an hour later, we were hitting it off quite well..)

me (7:36:20 PM): how bout Monday
her (7:26:33 PM): That is a definite yes
her (7:26:54 PM): LEts chat tommorrow either phone or im and see about tommorrow vs. monday
her (7:26:56 PM): okay
her (7:26:58 PM): ?
me (7:37:00 PM): Sounds good!
her (7:27:04 PM): nice to meet you kevin
me (7:37:12 PM): same here, Doh! whats your name!!
me (7:37:16 PM): doh
her (7:27:26 PM): Bethany
her (7:27:28 PM): :P
her (7:27:30 PM): Happy now
me (7:37:30 PM): it was nice to talk to you Bethany
me (7:37:33 PM): yes
her (7:27:37 PM): heheehee
her (7:27:56 PM): okay bye now.

we wound up talking on the phone for 4 hours the next day..

And the rest is history . . .

Stress Relief, Tavy Style

From last night as I got Tavy ready for bed:

Tavy:  "Is Mama Sad?"

Me:  "Mama not sad. Mama fine." (Distractedly shoving uncooperative feet into toddler pajama bottoms.)

Tavy:  "Mama unhappy?"

Me:  "Mama HAPPY!" (Trying like heck to muster up some enthusiasm beyond please-go-to-sleep-fast)

Tavy: "Mama stress out?"

Stunned silence while I contemplate both how horrible it is that my 2.5 year old knows the word "stress" and how lovely it is that she really *is* this articulate. 

Me: "Maybe Mama a little stressed out. But I'm fine. We read some stories."

Tavy: "You stress out!"

Me: "I'm fine.  I'm happy. I not sad. Let's go. To. Bed."

Tavy: "You stress out. You no stress out!"

Me:  "How should I fix the stress out?" 

Tavy: "Say AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHH!"

Me: "AAAAAAAAAAAh!"

Tavy:  "Say Ooooh OOOoooh UUUUUUUuugh!"

Me: "Oooh Oooh uuug!"

Tavy: "No! Like Dis! ROOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOW LLLLLLOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO"

Me: "Rooooooooooooo Loooooooooooouuuuuu"

Tavy: "What your tongue doing?"

Me: "Laughing."

Tavy: "Dat better! Now do AAiiiiiiiiiiiiiiieeeeeeeeeeeeee Hooooooooooooooooooooo"

This went on for a good five minutes of silly, loud sounds, and amazingly, I DID feel way better afterward. She got me to do it again today outside without the leading emotional questions, and we shouted the alphabet together at top volume drawing each letter out for 20 seconds.  She's pretty intuitive, and she humbles me and inspires me to do more than just put a happy face on my stress. 

Phone it In

Tavy, phone home!
Originally uploaded by wavybrains.

I'm trying desperately not to slide completely off the blogging wagon, but this week is kicking my very-pregnant behind. I'm persevering though:

This is one of my favorite pictures of Tavy. She was a little over two months here, and the rattle is more or less a prop--she could grab things but she didn't really interact with them much yet. Tonight, she saw this same picture on Freak's rotation (he has a widget that scrolls through ALL The pictures) and demanded this phone and her stuffed elephant that featured in other early pictures. I reluctantly handed over the phone and the elephant from a bag of toys that I have saved for Junior. She immediately had a long conversation with the phone, calling Nanny complete with sound effects and pauses for the imaginary reply. It looked so tiny in her huge toddler hand and was dwarfed by her mammoth noggin when she tried to talk on it.

However, she was not convinced that the phone and other baby toys should be reserved for the new baby, and she is currently sleeping with both the phone and the blue elephant. I was struck by how at some point in the last six months my brain has undergone a fundamental shift: I don't see that bag as Tavy's toys anymore. I see it as toys-waiting-for-Junior.

This flummoxes me because how could I see these icons of Tavy's early days as anything OTHER than hers? Somehow without my participation, I've become a mother of two. Nearly all of Junior's "stuff" still resides in the attic, but somehow my mind has already created space for him/her in subtle ways that astound me. The heart expands along with the waistline.

So dear Junior, your father thinks I am nutty for feeling bad that Tavy is sleeping with YOUR things, but just know that I'm carving out a space for you, and I can't wait to get pictures of you with that rattle.

After we wrest it away from Big Sister, of course. She says, "I put it in the baby's tiny hand!" This could go either way: cutest photo ever or world of pain for poor Junior. Or perhaps both.

Rasta Baby

Coming home from hospital
Originally uploaded by wavybrains.

This is the only picture I have of Tavy in her coming home outfit due to a three way camera FAIL. It was a tie-dye onesie with matching hat and booties. Of course, we were expecting a late august/early September baby instead of the early FALL baby we got, so she wore it over a sleeper as to not turn into a tiny Popsicle. I was so exhausted and ready to be home that that first day was kinda of a picture taking black hole.

However, in a funny twist of fate, Tavy LOVES tie-dye and has a collection of t-shirts that she would happily wear at the expense of everything else in her wardrobe (even pants!). I still have this little set (somewhere . . . BAD Mama for not wrapping it in tissue paper and preserving it, but somewhere), but unlike his/her sister Flipper/Junior will have wardrobe OPTIONS.

Today was tie-dye day at Tavy's school, and OMG was she ever excited. On Friday when we bought two tiny undershirts for Flippy (hmmm. Maybe that nickname would work?), we talked about how we be making our OWN tie-dye shirts at school. And she talked about that all weekend, and she woke up this morning super excited.

She was all "LET ME AT THE SQUEEZE BOTTLES AND OUT OF MY WAY, LADY," as soon as she saw the area set up, and now we have a large ziploc baggie filled with: a shirt for Tavy, two tiny undershirts for Junior, and a really really tiny undershirt for Baby-Baby. I'm hoping that Junior shares Tavy's love of PURPLE! as that is the dominating color. SHAKE! SHAKE! SHAKE! So much fun!

I had forgotten how much I love tie-dye and how I love the Christmas present aspect of it--you do it, hoping the results will be spectacular, but you still have to wait and percolate and then rinse and dry and THEN you finally get to admire your creation. Later this week, we'll unveil what the future fashion designer created, but for right now, I just get to smile wistfully thinking of one tie-dyed baby turned big girl with purple thumbs and dreaming of the next little Rasta baby.

Implusive

In Planning Mode
Originally uploaded by wavybrains.

This photo is from a year ago today. This is my third mother's day, and I do not take for granted how lucky I am today and everyday. I'm also posting this picture to commemorate our plan, naked backyard before we lost our collective minds.

Curious yet?

I was going to say that Freak and I don't have a history of large, impulsive purchases. I.e. There are no plasma TV's in our house and no RV's in the backyard. However, to writ:
--Freak's car last summer. Found out about cash-for-clunkers on the last weekend of the deal. Decided to trade in the Jeep in less than 24 hours and take on a payment.
--Roomba, scooba, and the rest of the robot family who joined us in hours of filthy desperation and not necessarily financial flush. May Roomba rest in peace and scooba enjoy his long vacation.
--Cell phones. We have a history of impulsive upgrades when our plan allows.
--My babywearing stash.

However, most of our impulse purchases are small and easy to ignore when they fall out of favor. Also, most fall into "latte plus" category of a splurge but only equal to a few hours work. Yesterday, thanks to the enabling of Freak's wonderful stepfather, we fell into something more in the Scooba-dining table-kitchen stove category that tends to make me spend hours post-purchase wondering what the heck we have wrought.

We were in our barren backyard one minute, idly remarking that Jane of the Jungle sure loves it outdoors but could really use something safer than the hammock and some saw horses to play on, and the next thing we knew, we had a play set on the way at an awesome deal (of course! Even when impulsive, it MUST be a bargain, or I just can't sleep at all). One with many, many wooden pieces ( "And a monkey bar! And my slide! And my picnic table!"). Thanks to Tavy's wonderful Grandpa, my idea of a simple metal A frame swing-and-slide combo (The Blue Box Special) got a serious upgrade.

And one that will pretty much fill our small backyard. But, hey, we've already established that we're not really gardeners at all. We're kid and dog people, although the dog is probably going to disagree when she sees what we've done to "her" space. The grass is a burden that can now earn its keep.

And if the neighbors think we are bizarre? They'll just have to chalk it up to us being too impulsive for our own good. But hopefully, Tavy and Junior deem it to be our best impulse purchase after THEM :)

Team Green

Because we are once again choosing to foil those around us by being surprised about whether Junior/Flipper is a boy or a girl (thank you to my dear friend for suggesting a better moniker than Junior :)), everyone feels entitled to an answer to their SECOND favorite question:

"Are you having any others after this one?" 

First, let us observe how tacky this question really is aside from the fact that you do not ask a 30-odd week pregnant woman to make permanent decisions about ANYTHING.  Also, 30-odd week pregnant women are much more concerned about getting THIS baby here safely, which isn't always guaranteed. 

But no, the real tackiness is the assumption that the unanswered first question (Boy or Girl?) really plays into the second question (How Many?). "Won't Freak NEED another if its a girl?" Um. Yes. Because the shortage of boy parts around here would be so vexing as to necessitate intervention.  We might need an extra kitten.

Now, I have a strong feeling that Junior is indeed a boy (I also swore Tavy was a girl, so I'm not the most credible), but many of my favorite families are all girl families and many of my favorite father figures are the fathers of only girls--including our current President! Two girl families are lovely. One of each families are lovely. Two of each, three of one, and families the size of sports teams are also lovely.

Honestly, we would both love another girl--we have lots of cute girl things that we wouldn't mind seeing a second time, neither of us had a sister to grow up alongside, and room sharing issues would be slightly mitigated.  But, a boy would be awesome too.  My brothers, as much as they give me heartburn from time to time, were an important part of my life growing up, and I should be so lucky to get to relieve some of their cute antics. K wouldn't mind a child of either gender with an interest in blocks and building.  I just want a healthy child who loves, loves, loves sleep, especially that which occurs at night and scheduled naps. We have an awesome boy's name ready to go. We're working on an equally awesome girl's name. 

One of the top three events of my life was looking down and discovering that Tavy was a Tavy. Words just can't express how amazing that feeling--the rush of euphoria of her being out and her being her all in one.  It transformed me, and I want that experience again.  One more time. 

I think. One more time.  I think we will feel "done" at two for a lot of boring, practical reasons. But babies aren't really boring, practical creatures. And how I feel right now with Junior/Flipper rearranging my innards isn't the best guide for how I will feel later, but yeah, I do have a sense of "this is probably my last baby" going on.

I'm trying to savor each moment, which easier said than done, but each roll, each kick, each aching ligament is something special. And the great mystery of boy or girl is a big part of that for me.  The time-before-you-were-you is how I whisper to Tavy and how I will whisper to Junior as well.

Merry Christmas, Baby

Tavy doesn't like me to touch my belly. I, however, love to feel Junior kick as I just couldn't feel as much externally as I can this time. This leads to conflict, which she often tries to mitigate by deciding that SHE will touch my belly, but I am not allowed.

Dear Junior, this is where I apologize for whatever auditory and neurological stress that results when 30 pounds of gleeful-yet-vindictive toddler lands on your happy home hollering "I touch de baby now! Not you!" She likes that if she "listens" to my belly occasionally she gets her ear kicked. But, she got bored of "feeling the baby wif my ear!" and moved on to "I feel the baby with my mouth! Baby kick my mouth!" and tonight, "I feel the baby with my bottom!" Creativity. It's the mark of a truly wonderful big sister. I should know.

She asked me today if the new baby can go with her to school and to the store, and I said, yes, of course. However, I also wonder if she is cataloging places we can LEAVE the baby as she also informed me that "They no have  baby at school! Need baby there!" One hopes she means show-and-tell, and not "Welcome to your new bassinet, otherwise known as the sensory table."

She also needed to tell me that there was no room for the baby in the shopping cart at the store today. I reminded her that tiny babies ride in slings, not carts.  She thought about this for a minute. "And big sister WALKS! NO CART"  Sigh. 

She wanted to know if my baby likes cheese (yes, (s)he does!) because she doesn't. And if my baby wants some ice cream, it better get his/her own bowl because "Dis baby like it lots and lots! Dis your tiny baby eating ice cream!" Says the imp with the two tiniest pigtails ever.

And tonight, as I left her to Daddy for the bedtime routine, she ran up and told me, "I gotta tell your baby something!"

This sounded serious so I sat down.

She got very close and looked like she might be going to drum on my belly (something I discourage), so I moved my hands to her shoulders, but she bent forward, touching my belly with her forehead and yodeled at top volume:

"MERRY CHRISTMAS BABY!!!!"

The Birth Plan, Rough Draft

With Tavy I didn't do a birth plan as I was all about Birthing from Within and "birth plans" lead to unrealistic expectations.  While I'm not sure it would have made a difference, this time I feel compelled to have something written.  Something short as Navel Gazing Midwife (header image is not safe for work!) and others have suggested--bullet points, not paragraphs and bare essentials.

Some things are personal and as a result of my experiences last time:

• I want to be encouraged to push upright, use the birth stool, and avoid pushing on my back.
• I want delayed cord clamping
• I want to try all possible natural induction methods before pitocin

Some are as a result of increased knowledge and education:

• I want to delay the first bath
• I want to avoid artificial breaking of my water
• I want to deliver the placenta naturally if possible
• I want the option of keeping the placenta (this probably isn't going to happen)

And some are as result of the brave, amazing women who walk a road no one should ever have to:

• I want a pulse ox reading done of the baby between 24 and 48 hours after birth. This helps to catch undiagnosed congenital heart defects. Thank you to Cora's story.

Giant

Giant
Originally uploaded by wavybrains.

This is what my grading load and to do list feels like right now, and no, I did not post last night, and yes, I am sorry about that if only because it slowed my momentum down, and THAT is a very bad thing. But, I will persevere.

Yesterday was a banner day for Junior--Midwife appointment day! I look forward to these with only slightly less enthusiasm than my birthday. I love getting to hear the heartbeat on the doppler. I am almost 31 weeks, measuring a little ahead thanks to my Giant baby. Giant baby needs to discover the magical world of being upside down sometime in the next few weeks as (s)he was breech, which I knew from all the rib pain. I'm not supposed to worry about position yet, so I'm . . . worried. Because that's what I do.

However, head-down status not withstanding, the rest of the appointment was great--I have gained very little weight this time around, blood pressure normal, blood sugar normal, everything else looking good.

We did more talking about the birth which continues to feel a bit surreal and then I'm all 8 to 12 weeks? That short of time? DUDE. We have some serious preparation to do. GIANT steps are needed.

Teeter-Totter

Coaching mama on correct form
Originally uploaded by wavybrains.

Every day feels like this right now, like I am balancing an uneven load and shifting things constantly to keep the royal toddler aloft. Today we went to her school, but we were late because setting the alarm was a trade-off I just didn't want to make today. Then back home and many more hours of puppet-family playing and not nearly enough work or cleaning or anything else, but the puppet family needed us.

Yesterday and today I tried the strategy of eating far more food far more often, and Junior rewarded me with tons more movement. BAD mama. I think I have been forgetting to eat, which isn't good at all.

Tomorrow more snacking, more puppets, teaching, and a midwife appointment.