Pressure

Yesterday my nephew asked me what my new years resolution was. Those that have been with me for a while know I never set them. The last thing I need in my life is more pressure to do something I can't already fit into my day. Am I the only one that thinks this is a truly rediculous tradition. Most resolutions aren't kept anyway. In my life I have found that small goals made day to day add up to much bigger results. Instead I use this as a time of reflection to look back on the year and really take in all that has happened. I try to find the good so that when I think back on the year I don't see all the negatives and what I didn't accomplish.

This year I brought home the ultimate prize so everything else just doesn't seem to matter. Sure my pants still don't fit, my laundry is usually a load or two behind and I haven't mopped the bathroom in over a week. None of it matters. In years past it was harder to see the positives but I always managed to find one or two amongst the shit heap. So I ask all of you, what was a good thing that happened this year?

The weather outside is frightful

Anyone else not able to upload pics? Stupid blogger.

Anyway, thank you for all the well wishes for B. He is feeling better after lots of rounds of steam and fresh air. It was tough because I couldn't sleep. I was scared to death he was going to stop breathing. It wasn't just a slight fear either it was a paralyzing fear. I guess the worrying never stops.

So now that B is napping away I thought I'd take a moment to catch my breath and do a few updates. First of all the weather is total shit here. We have been snow/iced in for a few days now and it doesn't seem to want to stop. The first day was fun but now we have a bit of cabin fever. Mr fattys window got stuck in the down position so he's been driving to work at 4 am with the window half down while its 16 degrees outside. Would not want to be him. I have this mental picture of him looking like jack frost from the santa clause 3 movie. But much more asian.

I apparently love self torture because I invited the entire family to our house for christmas eve dinner and the gift exchange. So today I made the menu up. Seriously I am overdoing myself but we all love food so it will be worth the effort. We are having turkey and all the crap that goes with it, lasagna, and of course those pioneer woman cinnamon rolls every one dies for. It will be nice to have everyone here for B's first holiday. Of course I wish my family could be there, but that is an enitirely differnt can of worms.

Thank you all for the support on the angel giving trees post! And to the person who emailed me to remain anonymous I won't out you, but your generosity to your neighborhood should be celebrated! I delivered our gifts to the tree over the weekend and after taking up money from all the family we were able to get everything they asked for and a bit more. Even our oldest (D) got into it and donated his allowance. There will be many happy kids this year.

On the entire expanding our family subject we talked it over last night and decided that after I'm done breastfeeding we will see what happens for the first 6 months and then take it from there. I think we are to the point where we want to try for a bit, but aren't willing to go the entire IUI/additional procedures again. At this point I feel like our family could be complete. Another would be great, but I would be content with our boys. I guess I'm kind of thinking that trying for another might be pressing our luck.

I know this is a hard time of year for many....boy do I know. After miscarrying a few years ago right before the holidays I know it can be uber shitty. For all of you still in the mix of all the shit I will be taking names/prayer request with me to temple next week. I'll have the monks say a blessing for you and take in the white hope flowers too. Let me know if you want to be part of it.

So tired

Seriously can't even think right now. B has been sick with croup AND his top left tooth is trying to break through. His gum is all swollen and red and he is coughing like a seal. And on top of that he has been sleeping like crap. Right now he's sleeping soundly on his dads lap and we are terriffied to move him. Must....google....croup...

Toxicity and a way you can help

I think I've blogged before about my toxic mother. You remember her...the one that refused to spend $8 on a bra for me and I was pointed at and laughed at during gym. The one that thought cigarettes were a better investment then school supplies. Lets face it, I could go on forever. But there IS a point. Keep reading.....

I never got christmas gifts. Sometimes a kind neighbor would bring us a tree, but that was about it. When I was about 8 and my sister was 1 she started going to various charities that put our names on those christmas trees you see everywhere. When I was 8 I got a pair of socks. When I was 9, 10, 11, 12 I recieved nothing. I guess my tag was never pulled off the tree. I remember how I cried those years. Lets not even talk about what it was like going back to school and hearing everyone talk about their holidays. My sister, being the youngest always seemed to get stuff. Every year I would tell myself not to get my hopes up, but when I would watch her open her gifts and I had nothing it made me sob. Even to this day it makes me sad. Now when I was thirteen pogoballs were all the rage. I wanted one so bad. On christmas day the lady came to our house and brought a food box. Then she went out to her trunk and brought in 4 gifts. Imagine my suprise when one was for me. The next morning I was so happy and excited just to have something and I almost died when I opened it and it was a pogoball! It was yellow and black and oh so beautiful. Then I cried. Not tears of pain, but tears of happiness because I knew that someone CARED.

The point to all of this? I know we are all facing tighter finances this year....but if you can, please pull a kids tag off of a tree. It makes more of a difference than you will ever know. It may just make someone believe they are loved.

No creme for me......but finally I'm adding B's birthstory!

I was just looking back at my post and I couldn't find one for creme de la creme because I was a really shitty blogger this year. Horrid. Bad blogger. But I learned a few things. One...holy cow I have been blogging for 3 and a half years! For some reason I didn't think it was that long...and two.....I never posted B's birthstory. Since I can't undo all the non blogging I did this year I'll settle for the birthstory.

For the weeks leading up to my induction I was blowing kidney stones like it was no ones businees. I kept drinking lots of water and walking (to keep fluid moving) but it was just useless. At my last ob appointment I was offered an induction. Now usually I like to let things happen naturally but I had quite enough of all that nonesense so we set a date. I went home and finally started getting baby stuff out. Oh yes, my fear of baby items went that deep. I tried to get caught up on sleep but it was no use so we spent the last day at the mall walking, eating cinnabons, and seeing movies.

May 14th at 11:30 pm I went into labor and delivery scared as hell. My husband at this point was just ready to hold our son. Me? Every step was hesitation. They checked me in, calmed me down and inserted that crap that makes you dialate. They broke my water about 3 in the morning and my contractions set in. But this was a bit different than labor with my oldest. This was like a raccoon was trying to claw its way out of my lower back. I was dialating and he was coming down at an acceptable rate, but he was turned the wrong way. I got on the ball, walked the halls, spent an hour on all fours....anything you could think of but this stubborn little boy would just not budge. After about 9 hours I begged for mercy and got an epidural. Only one word can describe it. Heaven. Seriously now I wonder why I didn't get one with my oldest. If I ever have another child I will go into L&D wearing an I heart my anesthesiologist tshirt. I had go get his lunch while they did the epidural because he is seriously squeemish. OH, did I mention that the kind midwives were nice enough to not only feed me breakfast, but sneak me a bit of lunch too? I loved those women, especially when they came in bearing snacks.

Now where was I? Oh yeah, heaven. So when my husband came in I was totally numbed and smiling. He ate and we talked and I was finally able to relax. He dozed off watching golf and I got situated to take a nap. But then something odd happened. About 45 minutes after my epidural I started feeling some pain. My husband heard me moaning and woke up. A nurse came in and said maybe you need to turn on your side....I turned and the pain continued so she decided to check me. HOLY MOLY B was right there. And by right there I mean THERE. I started shaking uncontrollably (I've heard this is common, is it?) and she told me to resist the urge to push while she gathered the team. She left the room and I justremember how quiet it was. For a moment it was just me and my husband. I was shaking and scared and he was just comforting me and reminding me that in a few minutes I would hold the greatest reward. We kissed and he rubbed my stomach while we waited. And then the urge to push hit hard. I remember telling him I didn't think I could hold it anymore when all three midwives came in wheeling all the goodies. It took them about 40 seconds (not kidding) to get ready and then there we were. I puhed once and then they told me to hold it again. He was already crowning! They did this so I wouldn't tear, and I apreciate it because I didn't tear. I pushed once more and his head was out. I reached down and felt him and my husband of course had to tell me he had so much hair. One more and I was holding my boy. Yes folks, I can count the number of pushes on one hand.

I got to put him to my bare chest immediately and keep him there. They checked him out right on my chest. He was a bit purple and didn't give out the best cry right away but he perked up in no time. My placenta was big and healthy. Much to my suprise mr. fatty was very interested in it and asked the midwife to hold it up for him so he could take a peek. After a while they took him to the warmer about 4 feet from my bed and got the weight and length down. It was all so surreal. Even now when I look back on it, it feels like a dream.

The kaiser I gave birth at is a baby friendly hospital so baby rooms with mom and breastfeeding is highly advocated so B stayed in with us. The midwives gave us no issue with the fact that even an hour later we still hadn't named him. On the door they just wrote my name and B (for baby) In case your wondering that is why I call him B on here. His name doesn't start with a b. Within hours of his birth we were visited by a dr, two nurses, a lactation consultant and about a billion visitors. The ped noticed that B was yellow and had his blood drawn. It was hell to hold my son and hear him scream while they poked his heel and kept rubbing the blood out. His count came back at 11. They encouraged lots of breastfeeding and sleep. Problem is he wouldn't wake to eat! All night long I fed him whenever he woke and woke him every 2 hours. The next morning he was tested again (12 this time) but luckily he slept through it. Now I know everyone has their own opinion about circumsision but mr.fatty decided he did want that for his son so I agreed. B slept through it. Didn't wake for anything which goes to show what a great job they did with numbing him and keeping him comfortable. However that night he did not sleep at all. Mr fatty and I took turns sleeping in half hour shifts just so we could function. The next morning they let us go home. It was great to walk into my home with my own real live baby. For me that is when my fears started to ease. We had made it home.

Of course we had to go back the next day for jaundice testing again. His count came down to 11, but he had dropped almost a lb in weight. Luckily my milk also came in so I just nursed and nursed and his count the next day was 8. He gained weight quickly and his yellow faded. The first few days home were a blur of sleep deprivation and visitors. Hard to believe my little B is now almost 7 months old. It just amazed me. Speaking of which I should head to bed. Its very late and B is scooting and scooting and I don't want to sleep in on the off chance I miss his first real crawling moment.

Go fatty its your birthday

Sunday I turned 31. It is a very unexciting birthday if you ask me. We had a delicious crab dinner and some sinful cake. After the kids went to bed we also split a bottle of wine. All good things. So now I'm sitting here researching tummy tucks because I have decided for my 35th birthday I will be getting one. If the boobs have started to sag they will be lifted too. It may be vain, but after losing 90 something pounds and having two really large babies I am not fond of my belly sag. I'm not one of those women that has really fabulous skin that just snaps back into place so a little nip tuck is in order.

Oh and just a heads up. You know how when your babies bottom teeth have made their way out and you are supposed to have a few months before the top ones start working their way out????? Total BULLSHIT. I feel sorry for B, he is having a hard time, but I'm trying to be patient and he's trying to be happy. We will get through this.