I fully intended to blog more this year. I got my yearly Blogs2Print book, and was shocked at home tiny it was. My goal was to get a bigger book next year... but here it is, the end of March, and I've only written once. I'm hoping to catch up on that as the year goes on, and as my to-do list around the house starts to shrink... (yeah, right?).
So, where did I leave off? Oh yes... the house. Our new, big, beautiful, "forever home" house! I've been meaning to write about it, but I know that the post is going to be long and I never seem to have enough time to myself. Today though, I'm sitting in a coffee shop after dropping the kids off with a sitter for a few hours, so, I'm going to try to tackle it. =)
To start at the beginning... Jacob got a new job across the river in Vancouver back in July 2015. It is a good job, with a good salary. However, living and working in two different states caused a few problems. First, we were still paying income tax for our home state (if we lived in Washington, we would have avoided this) and second, it meant Jacob was driving 1.5-2 hours per day between home work and picking the kids up from daycare. When he got the job, we talked about moving over the river, but I was still working in Portland and our daycare provider (who we love and cuts us a SUPER deal) was also in Portland--and completely out of the way of what would be our new commute. Moving would mean that we'd either a) have to find--and pay twice as much for--a new daycare, or b) me quitting my job and staying home.
At that time, I was just a few months in to a new job that had the potential for some advancement opportunities. I really liked the company that I was working for, and was scared of the emotional and financial strain of being a stay at home parent. So, Jacob continued with the commute and we kept the status quot.
Fast forward to the middle of August... I applied for a promotion at my job, something that I REALLY thought that I was going to get. Something that I felt that I'd been kind of groomed to take on. They offered someone else the position. No ill will from me, really. They made the decision that they felt was best for their organization. However, I was then faced with making a decision that was best for ME. Since 2009, between two different organizations, I had basically been doing the same work. After 6 years as a direct service workforce development coach (and another 4 years before that in other direct service social service roles) I was feeling pretty burnt out... especially after being turned down for promotion opportunities twice.
One day in August I was driving home from out of town. It was a long drive and my mind started to wander. I started to think about our current situation, our desire to move, and how we could make that possible. I thought about my job situation and if I wanted to stay somewhere (that I liked) doing work that I didn't for who knows how long... again. I didn't. Jacob's new salary is equal to what both of us made combined the year before, and we lived quite comfortably then, so I didn't fear the finance issue too much. But could I be a stay at home mom? The more I thought about it, the more I felt a resounding HELL YES. After years of doing the working mom thing (it was exhausting and really emotionally draining for both me AND Jacob) and realized that I was ready for a new challenge.
When I got home, I talked to Jacob about my thoughts and decisions. Very shortly thereafter, we called our real estate agent.
After speaking with our agent (who helped us purchase our first home, and would be helping us sell it), reviewing the housing market, and looking at time lines, we decided to find a house first, and make a contingent offer before putting ours on the market. We didn't want to be stuck without a place to live. So, armed with a Washington agent referral, we started our hunt for new homes in Vancouver, WA.
We looked at a handful of homes, and they were nice, but nothing was really taking our breath away. The one that we most liked already had an offer accepted before we left the viewing, so we had to move on. Since we were driving back and forth after work hours (during rush hour) and on the weekends to view homes (usually with 2 kids in tow), our WA agent decided to check into a few homes on her own and then let us know if she thought we should see them, too. She had a pretty good sense at that point of what we were looking for and what features we did and didn't like.
One house in particular had one photo on their listing. The description sounded good, but the single photo (a bad one of the exterior) made us leery about it. Our agent went out with the intention of taking a look and sending us some additional photos. Later that evening, she sent us some images with her story... after being assured that the alarm had been turned off, she entered the home... to be greeted by a blaring alarm through the whole house. She waited for the police to arrive, explained who she was, and then ran through the house taking quick photos, covering her ears, waiting for the alarm to get shut off! lol Thankfully her aural discomfort was not for loss. We liked the photos and her description and decided to take a look at it ourselves.
The house was HUGE. Jacob and I kept looking at each other with a "what the hell will we do with all this space" expressions. The asking price was a bit above our self-imposed budget. That and the space abundance were holding us up at first. But, after seeing other slightly smaller homes with postage stamp sized backyards, we decided to put in an offer. (side note: when we looked at the house we "surprised" one of the residents who was hanging out in her bedroom upstairs and didn't know that someone was coming to take a look at the house. We should have taken note about the communication struggles at that point).
We made an offer, contingent on the sale of our home, for slightly under their asking price. The responded that they would not take anything under asking. After assessing our finances and what the likely monthly payments would be, we decided to accept the counter offer and pay asking. Then we called our Oregon agent and pulled the trigger to list our current home.
For the next two weeks we kept our house sparkling clean, and crossed our fingers that we would get an offer and not lose "our" house based on the contingency.
We did NOT get an offer in time. We prepared paperwork asking for an extension. Three days after the contingency period ended, we got an offer. As we had not heard anything back yet regarding our extension request, our agent contacted the sellers and asked to proceed.
They increased the asking price for the home by 10k. And sure, we could proceed if we were willing to pay that. Our agent was flabbergasted. Our offer was the only offer that they'd received on the house. Why would they UP the price?? Jacob and I had already offered 15k over our "budget", tacking on another 10k made me very nervous... especially since we were going to be on one income after we moved. After some talk via agents, they lowered it to 5k. We told them that we could not do that, and that we would have to pass (at this point we were just pissed and thinking about principal rather than dollar signs).
Our agent then took us to view about 6 other homes. They all sucked in comparison to THE house. I had gone and gotten attached to that house... something that I told myself not to do. So much for that. We had already accepted the offer on our current house, so not only we were in the position that we didn't want to be (on a time line for finding a place or we'd be homeless), but I loved a house that was above our budget... which is the exact same thing that happened to us with our first home purchase.
We decided to take the 5k offer and wrote the sellers a letter pretty much asking them not to be jerks to a young family that really loved their home (a home that they had only been in for about 2 years). The deal was done and the inspection process started... on both homes.
Our to-be home passed inspections with flying colors. The inspector even called me to tell me how gorgeous the house was. The inspection on our current home was not so good. There were wiring issues, and dry rot, some chimney structural concerns and (the one that grossed me out the most), rats. Rats?? Rats. Apparently we had rodents living under our house. Which surprised me completely. In the 5 years that we lived there, we saw a mouse... once. No other signs of any other varmints. So then negotiations for repairs starts. Back and forth. We'll fix this, but not this. Finally we agreed on the terms. And then the repairs started.
I feel like I should note at this point that during this whole process I was recovering from pneumonia. During the initial offer/up the price portion, I was actually e-signing documents from my ICU hospital bed. The inspections and repairs I was at home on bed rest.
Anyway, we got the repairs done, and the inspector came out to take a look. They weren't done to his satisfaction. So we had to get more contractors in to do more things. Silver lining, because the repairs weren't done on time, we had to extend the closing date on our current home. Which actually meant that we could make a smooth, single day move from one house to the other... without that, we would have been "homeless" for three days between the two closing dates.
Finally everything was done, movers were booked, boxes were packed, and it was time to sign closing documents. Our house was sold! A couple days later we went in to sign for our new home. It was done!
We thought.
Fast forward to later on signing day... our agent calls us with some bad news. One of the sellers is out of the country and can't sign his portion of the documents. Let me note that throughout the whole negotiation process we had to wait, several times, for the husband, a musician to be in town to sign documents. He was traveling constantly. Problem is, they didn't tell anyone, THEIR agent included, that he was going to be out of the country during the closing time period. Again, our agent was livid and so confused. The wife went in and signed her portion of the documents, and then paperwork was started to give her the proper power of attorney rights to sign for her husband. Problem is though that this was going to push the closing date out. And the problem with that is that the movers had already been scheduled and we needed to be out of our old house!
After more conversation via agents, we finally got paperwork that would make us no-charge "renters" of the home before closing was official, which would allow us to move in as scheduled. On moving day, I drove up to the new house to get the keys while Jacob stayed behind to help direct the movers. I prayed that nothing would go wrong. Our agent was there with the keys, and copies of all relevant documents... in case the alarm went off on us or there were any other concerns on our legitimacy to be there (she, as well, was having some trust issues at that point). She told me then that she'd made a bit of no-no, but that it had worked out in our favor...
Apparently the sellers had wanted to charge us rent for being there before closing. Our agent sent a text message blasting the sellers and stating that the issue was their fault and not ours, and that they were being greedy and difficult. Fortunately/Unfortunately, she accidentally sent it to the sellers directly rather than the agent. They didn't respond, but we received the keys and rental agreement with no further financial discussion.
We got everything moved out/moved in that day. Aside from waiting for either a) international power of attorney paperwork to get processed or b) the husband to get back in town to sign papers so that would could finally close, we thought that things were done and over with.
But then we realized that we didn't have a mail box key.
Via agents, we heard from the seller that they expected us to change the lock and get our own key like they had. I called the post office to inquire about this... $40, we needed to provide home purchase paperwork, and it could take a couple weeks. Plus, we were RENTERS at that point and didn't have the authority to change the locks anyway. It took us about a week to convince the sellers to give us the damn mailbox key! I couldn't believe it. Absolutely ridiculous. I had to buy a new Halloween costume last minute because my costume for my office party was in the box. It's petty, I know, but still soo soo annoying!
We closed on the house on Sam's birthday, October 30th. Four days after we moved in. After getting the mail situation figured out, I was so glad to be over with it and move on to the fun stuff. So far we have replaced some flooring, painted some walls, bought some furniture and changed the locks. ;)
Showing posts with label New Experiences. Show all posts
Showing posts with label New Experiences. Show all posts
Wednesday, March 23, 2016
Saturday, January 16, 2016
Beware of Bronchitis
There were two thing that I had planned/hoped to write about before the end of 2015... the adventure of purchasing our second home (hoping to get to this soon!) and my 3-day stay in our local ICU. Unfortunately, neither of these got written and posted in time to make it into my 2015 blog book (which I ordered today!), but better late than never, right?
On September 13th I headed to the beach for a work related conference. I was SOO looking forward to three nights of "mommy vacation" in a quiet room and a bed to myself. Plus, this was my third trip to this conference, one that I have enjoyed every year, so I was pumped.
I arrived at the hotel, checked into my room, headed to the restaurant to grab some dinner and a glass of wine, and started to feel a bit "blah". Thought for sure that I'd just picked up another daycare cold and that I'd suffer through it. The next day, Monday, I felt awful. I made it through the day, but left the last session early to go rest. I ordered room service for dinner. A bowl of clam chowder and a roll... which would last me for the next two days of meals.
Tuesday I went down to the conference for breakfast, but had to leave about half an hour into the first keynote session... and spent the rest of the day in bed with what I'm assuming were chills and aches from a fever. Wednesday morning I didn't even try. I just got out of bed, packed up my stuff, and drove home... hoping that I could make it back safety.
On Thursday I went to the doctor. He looked, listened, etc, etc. and told me that I had Bronchitis. He pretty much told me that I had to suffer through it and that it would go away eventually. BUT if I got symptom A, B, or C to come back. I never got any of these additional symptoms, but by Monday I was still feeling AWFUL. I could barely move, I had an awful cough, I was exhausted and just wanted to sleep all day. By this point I had been out of work for a week. My daughter was getting a bit scared (she cried one morning and told my husband how much she missed her mommy). So, that morning we dropped off the kids at daycare and I had Jacob take me to Urgent Care for a second opinion on this whole Bronchitis thing.
I don't know how long we waited in the waiting room. As I mentioned, I just wanted to sleep. I may have very well fallen asleep. Everything around this stage in the story is a bit foggy. When we were called back they did the usual scale, blood pressure, check oxygen level thing... but something wasn't right. They checked my oxygen twice (I think with two different devices) and then called an ambulance. With in minutes I was hooked up to an oxygen tank, in a hospital gown, on a gurney in the back of an ambulance headed to the ER.
Turns out that I had developed pneumonia and was in "respiratory failure" (this bit was not made clear to me until after I was released from the ICU). My oxygen levels were in the mid-80% range. Hospital staff refused to let me move for about 24 hours as every time I did my levels decreased. I had a nose tub oxygenation device AND a face mask for the first day/night. The doctor told me that if my levels didn't increase that they would have to intubate. I took LOTS of deep breaths after that point and thankfully it never came to that. But that first night was awful. I couldn't sleep with all of the oxygen being pumped into my nose and mouth. Plus I still had a horrible cough and "waking up" coughing in the middle of the night with a mask on your face leads to some real claustrophobic type of feelings.
By the middle of the second day I was off of the face mask and finally walking around a little bit. My oxygen levels had reached the mid-90% range, but I still had to wear my nose tubing while they slowly decreased the amount of oxygen that was getting pumped into me to make sure that my lungs were fully capable of working on their own. The second night I only had to "sleep" with the nose tubes. I was thankful.
Day three, I started walking up and down the halls with my nurse. The nose tubes were removed and I was steadily breathing on my own again. My oxygen levels stayed up there and so that doctors agreed that I could be discharged from the ICU and moved to a "regular" hospital room... where I spent my last night and got to take a shower (Hallelujah! I will never again to Urgent Care without taking a shower first!).
I was discharged the following day (Thursday) and was pretty much on bed rest for another week. In the end, I was out of work for 3 weeks... and probably should have stayed out longer. It took much more time than that for my lungs to strengthen up again (I had to skip another 5k that I'd signed up for, and put my workouts on hold for about 2 months while I recovered), plus, I lost about 15 pounds... in a week... and was really, really weak. I have also been told that now I am more susceptible to developing pneumonia in the future, so that I have to be extra careful and cautious when I get ill. I may end up buying myself one of those finger tip oxygen reader things... I don't want to ever repeat that experience again!
I was so thankful for Jacob and our child care provider during this whole process. Jacob worked remotely from the hospital room in the mornings and then went to the office in the afternoons... and then came back in the evenings. Our daycare provider kept the kids for two overnights so that Jacob could be there with me. I was so thankful for that. It gets pretty lonely in the ICU, especially when you don't really know/understand what's happening to you or how bad of a situation you are in.
When the nurse in my "regular" room told her colleague at shift change that I had been "admitted in respiratory failure" I'm sure that my heart skipped a beat. I hadn't known that things were that bad... seeing an 80% reading on an oxygen monitor doesn't mean anything to a lay-person... at least, not to this one.
On September 13th I headed to the beach for a work related conference. I was SOO looking forward to three nights of "mommy vacation" in a quiet room and a bed to myself. Plus, this was my third trip to this conference, one that I have enjoyed every year, so I was pumped.
I arrived at the hotel, checked into my room, headed to the restaurant to grab some dinner and a glass of wine, and started to feel a bit "blah". Thought for sure that I'd just picked up another daycare cold and that I'd suffer through it. The next day, Monday, I felt awful. I made it through the day, but left the last session early to go rest. I ordered room service for dinner. A bowl of clam chowder and a roll... which would last me for the next two days of meals.
 |
| Sick in my beautiful, coastal hotel room |
Tuesday I went down to the conference for breakfast, but had to leave about half an hour into the first keynote session... and spent the rest of the day in bed with what I'm assuming were chills and aches from a fever. Wednesday morning I didn't even try. I just got out of bed, packed up my stuff, and drove home... hoping that I could make it back safety.
On Thursday I went to the doctor. He looked, listened, etc, etc. and told me that I had Bronchitis. He pretty much told me that I had to suffer through it and that it would go away eventually. BUT if I got symptom A, B, or C to come back. I never got any of these additional symptoms, but by Monday I was still feeling AWFUL. I could barely move, I had an awful cough, I was exhausted and just wanted to sleep all day. By this point I had been out of work for a week. My daughter was getting a bit scared (she cried one morning and told my husband how much she missed her mommy). So, that morning we dropped off the kids at daycare and I had Jacob take me to Urgent Care for a second opinion on this whole Bronchitis thing.
I don't know how long we waited in the waiting room. As I mentioned, I just wanted to sleep. I may have very well fallen asleep. Everything around this stage in the story is a bit foggy. When we were called back they did the usual scale, blood pressure, check oxygen level thing... but something wasn't right. They checked my oxygen twice (I think with two different devices) and then called an ambulance. With in minutes I was hooked up to an oxygen tank, in a hospital gown, on a gurney in the back of an ambulance headed to the ER.
Turns out that I had developed pneumonia and was in "respiratory failure" (this bit was not made clear to me until after I was released from the ICU). My oxygen levels were in the mid-80% range. Hospital staff refused to let me move for about 24 hours as every time I did my levels decreased. I had a nose tub oxygenation device AND a face mask for the first day/night. The doctor told me that if my levels didn't increase that they would have to intubate. I took LOTS of deep breaths after that point and thankfully it never came to that. But that first night was awful. I couldn't sleep with all of the oxygen being pumped into my nose and mouth. Plus I still had a horrible cough and "waking up" coughing in the middle of the night with a mask on your face leads to some real claustrophobic type of feelings.
 |
| View from the ICU |
By the middle of the second day I was off of the face mask and finally walking around a little bit. My oxygen levels had reached the mid-90% range, but I still had to wear my nose tubing while they slowly decreased the amount of oxygen that was getting pumped into me to make sure that my lungs were fully capable of working on their own. The second night I only had to "sleep" with the nose tubes. I was thankful.
Day three, I started walking up and down the halls with my nurse. The nose tubes were removed and I was steadily breathing on my own again. My oxygen levels stayed up there and so that doctors agreed that I could be discharged from the ICU and moved to a "regular" hospital room... where I spent my last night and got to take a shower (Hallelujah! I will never again to Urgent Care without taking a shower first!).
I was discharged the following day (Thursday) and was pretty much on bed rest for another week. In the end, I was out of work for 3 weeks... and probably should have stayed out longer. It took much more time than that for my lungs to strengthen up again (I had to skip another 5k that I'd signed up for, and put my workouts on hold for about 2 months while I recovered), plus, I lost about 15 pounds... in a week... and was really, really weak. I have also been told that now I am more susceptible to developing pneumonia in the future, so that I have to be extra careful and cautious when I get ill. I may end up buying myself one of those finger tip oxygen reader things... I don't want to ever repeat that experience again!
 |
| Goodbye hospital bed! |
I was so thankful for Jacob and our child care provider during this whole process. Jacob worked remotely from the hospital room in the mornings and then went to the office in the afternoons... and then came back in the evenings. Our daycare provider kept the kids for two overnights so that Jacob could be there with me. I was so thankful for that. It gets pretty lonely in the ICU, especially when you don't really know/understand what's happening to you or how bad of a situation you are in.
When the nurse in my "regular" room told her colleague at shift change that I had been "admitted in respiratory failure" I'm sure that my heart skipped a beat. I hadn't known that things were that bad... seeing an 80% reading on an oxygen monitor doesn't mean anything to a lay-person... at least, not to this one.
Wednesday, December 2, 2015
Facing My Fears!
This is by far not the most important of blog posts in terms of the catch up that I'm trying to do, but I think it is definitely worth including...
I got a tattoo!
For some, this is no big deal, for me, it is a HUGE accomplishment and milestone of me facing some pretty big fears.
I have been terrified of (some) needles for a very, very long time... almost phobic (my doctor's have actually prescribed me anti-anxiety medications before to assist with the need for blood draws/testing). Ever since I was a kid, getting a blood draw (or other intrusive needle jabbing)--and sometimes just the THOUGHT of it--was usually accompanied by a fainting spell. Passing out in doctor's chairs, car passenger seats, my dentists chair, a pre-op hospital bed, health class (yup...), while watching medical shows on TV... it was definitely a "thing". One of my biggest concerns about ever getting pregnant was the sheer number of pre-natal blood tests and being connected to an IV in the hospital.
Over the years, I have figured out ways to combat my anxiety around this and have discovered different coping mechanisms that help. But getting in front of a needle is not exactly my idea of a good time (I didn't get my ears pierced until I was 25... AFTER getting my nose pierced as my quarter-century birthday-present-to-me/act of personal rebellion... I figured it was just one hole/needle rather than two! lol).
That being said, I have been thinking about getting a tattoo for YEARS. In fact, a few months before I made the consultation appointment with the artist I got a Timehop flashback from FOUR YEARS AGO saying something around the lines of "I really want to get a tattoo!" =) I figured that it was time.
I'd been thinking about what I wanted for a pretty long time, and had been searching around Yelp/Google/Reviews/etc for artists and shops in the area... but I just hadn't pulled the trigger. Then, a friend of mine got the name of an artist that she thought would do a good job... and Jacob said that he would finally get "his" tattoo, too! So, we made it a sort of 5-year wedding anniversary adventure and gave up our tattoo virginities at the same time. =)
I had a pretty good sense of what I wanted from my tattoo, but needed something designed. I am very happy with the results! The image is a floral "timeline". The first flower, the Morning Glory, is a birth month flower for September (both Jacob and I were born in September), the Sunflower was our wedding flower. The Sweet Pea ins April's flower (Emily's birth month) and the orange flower, a Cosmos (or could also double as a marigold, is for October, when Sam was born.
Jacob had a friend design his (based on line art that he had already created). The symbol signifies a childhood nickname. And also his online gaming persona. ;)
Overall, I am very happy with the final products. And am happy to report that I didn't pass out AT ALL! That is a HUGE win! It went so well (and didn't hurt nearly as much as I was expecting), that I'm already wondering what my next one will be. ;)
I got a tattoo!
For some, this is no big deal, for me, it is a HUGE accomplishment and milestone of me facing some pretty big fears.
I have been terrified of (some) needles for a very, very long time... almost phobic (my doctor's have actually prescribed me anti-anxiety medications before to assist with the need for blood draws/testing). Ever since I was a kid, getting a blood draw (or other intrusive needle jabbing)--and sometimes just the THOUGHT of it--was usually accompanied by a fainting spell. Passing out in doctor's chairs, car passenger seats, my dentists chair, a pre-op hospital bed, health class (yup...), while watching medical shows on TV... it was definitely a "thing". One of my biggest concerns about ever getting pregnant was the sheer number of pre-natal blood tests and being connected to an IV in the hospital.
Over the years, I have figured out ways to combat my anxiety around this and have discovered different coping mechanisms that help. But getting in front of a needle is not exactly my idea of a good time (I didn't get my ears pierced until I was 25... AFTER getting my nose pierced as my quarter-century birthday-present-to-me/act of personal rebellion... I figured it was just one hole/needle rather than two! lol).
That being said, I have been thinking about getting a tattoo for YEARS. In fact, a few months before I made the consultation appointment with the artist I got a Timehop flashback from FOUR YEARS AGO saying something around the lines of "I really want to get a tattoo!" =) I figured that it was time.
I'd been thinking about what I wanted for a pretty long time, and had been searching around Yelp/Google/Reviews/etc for artists and shops in the area... but I just hadn't pulled the trigger. Then, a friend of mine got the name of an artist that she thought would do a good job... and Jacob said that he would finally get "his" tattoo, too! So, we made it a sort of 5-year wedding anniversary adventure and gave up our tattoo virginities at the same time. =)
I had a pretty good sense of what I wanted from my tattoo, but needed something designed. I am very happy with the results! The image is a floral "timeline". The first flower, the Morning Glory, is a birth month flower for September (both Jacob and I were born in September), the Sunflower was our wedding flower. The Sweet Pea ins April's flower (Emily's birth month) and the orange flower, a Cosmos (or could also double as a marigold, is for October, when Sam was born.
Jacob had a friend design his (based on line art that he had already created). The symbol signifies a childhood nickname. And also his online gaming persona. ;)
Overall, I am very happy with the final products. And am happy to report that I didn't pass out AT ALL! That is a HUGE win! It went so well (and didn't hurt nearly as much as I was expecting), that I'm already wondering what my next one will be. ;)
Wednesday, November 18, 2015
Hypocrite Much? ;)
As I'm sitting here in a coffee shop eating a chocolate chip-raspberry muffin and drinking a brown sugar chai, I think this may be the appropriate time to talk about my weight loss and fitness progress and goals. ;)
I have battled with my weight for YEARS. I like to blame it on my kids/pregnancies, but that is by far not how/when it started. In all honesty, I think it started when I finally found myself feeling safe, comfortable and happy (ironic, huh?)... when I was in my mid 20s. (It may have started earlier than that, but thinking back and seeing myself in pictures in high school/college/graduation/etc, I didn't start to balloon until after I graduated from college). I have discovered that my body is REALLY good at gaining weight. But it's also pretty good at losing it... thus lots of fluctuation over the years (and lots of piles of pants that are either too big or two small in my closet).
When I got my first job post-grad school I was at my highest weight. I hated to admit the numbers on the scale and mostly just ignored them (and had been doing so for months--maybe years--I'm sure). My now-husband had also proposed to me just a few months prior to this point, and I knew that I wanted to drop some inches before my wedding day. So, I did. Between a counting calories routine and getting some exercise (though more of the former and less of latter, to be honest), I dropped 30 lbs in 8 months. My dress had to be altered a lot (and the seamstress even commented on the fact that I bought too big of a dress size... I told her it was my "fault" for dropping the weight).
When I got pregnant roughly a year later, I was only up about 5-10 lbs from wedding weight... but then I gained a TON during pregnancy (too many brownies) and my daughter wasn't nearly chubby enough to take the bulk of it with her. ;) About a year after she was born, I was at my NEW highest weight (by about 15 lbs, I think) and felt awful. So, I started the food diary/calorie counting routine again and started to (attempt to) work out again. I'll tell you though, working out with an infant/toddler at home after working 40 hours/week is REALLY difficult, both emotionally and physically).
By February 2014 I was down roughly 25 lbs, had just fit back into my pre-prego jeans, was 5-10 lbs away from pre-prego weight (and about 15-20 lbs away from wedding weight) and was feeling pretty awesome! And then, I found out that I was pregnant with my son. FANTASTIC news for my husband and I and our families, but terrible news for my body. As I mentioned before, my body is REALLY good at gaining weight.
With my son, I stopped paying attention to the scales at the doctor's office. I tried to be "good" with my eating and only had MAYBE one or two chocolate milkshakes the entire time! But, I still gained a lot of weight (much more than the "recommended" amount) and, after my son was born, I was right back to the beginning in terms of my post-prego weight loss with my daughter. Only, this time, I had a goal... by my son's 1st birthday, I wanted to have dropped the weight! So, I kicked my own ass into gear!
In May I joined a "Biggest Loser" challenge with a group of local moms. It was great to have the weekly food and exercise challenges, as well as the encouragement from others. In the 8ish weeks that the challenge occurred, I dropped roughly 13 lbs.
During the last 4 weeks of the challenge, the weather was started to get nicer, earlier so I started (again, for the third time) the Couch To 5k (C25k) running program. I would go in the mornings before work (hello 5:30 am) and go for runs... something that I was NEVER good at, and always HATED... before now, and before I saw the weight loss results that running could have! After the end of the Biggest Loser challenge I continued the C25k program and signed up for another 5k (I signed up for one with my sister in law at the beginning of the summer, but don't really count that one as I walked the majority of the course).
I had a new goal... no longer was my goal to "lose weight", but rather to RUN a 5k. And I was determined to do so by the race in August.
And I DID IT! Not only did a RUN the entire thing, but I took something like 11 minutes off my time from the first (walked) race... and finished in the middle of my age division. Did you hear that? The MIDDLE! Not the END! The amount of pride that I felt in myself was unbelievable. And, as an extra bonus, I'd lost another 10 lbs or so.
I decided to sign up for another 5k a couple months later, in early October. I continued to run with a goal to improve my time and do it for enjoyment (running on the beach is awesome!)
About a month in, something totally came in and ruined my plans... I got pneumonia. I was hospitalized for several days (more on this later) and it just completed kicked my butt and knocked me out. It was absolutely awful (more on this later) That being said... I lost about 15 lbs... in less than a week, and found myself at pre-prego weight before little man's 1st birthday. Silver lining?
Though I was down pounds-wise, I didn't feel strong anymore. I felt so, so weak..
It's been almost 2 months since I was discharged from the hospital. I have gained back about 6 lbs (I am ok with that for now, as I know that my body wasn't ready to lose it), and just started running around last week. I have signed up for a 5k in March and am looking forward to the cold, wet asphalt and my ability to, once again, see my body in action and feel strong and accomplished. Also, hoping to get back down to pre-Sam weight, followed by pre-Emily weight, followed by (dare I say?) wedding weight. ;)
I have battled with my weight for YEARS. I like to blame it on my kids/pregnancies, but that is by far not how/when it started. In all honesty, I think it started when I finally found myself feeling safe, comfortable and happy (ironic, huh?)... when I was in my mid 20s. (It may have started earlier than that, but thinking back and seeing myself in pictures in high school/college/graduation/etc, I didn't start to balloon until after I graduated from college). I have discovered that my body is REALLY good at gaining weight. But it's also pretty good at losing it... thus lots of fluctuation over the years (and lots of piles of pants that are either too big or two small in my closet).
When I got my first job post-grad school I was at my highest weight. I hated to admit the numbers on the scale and mostly just ignored them (and had been doing so for months--maybe years--I'm sure). My now-husband had also proposed to me just a few months prior to this point, and I knew that I wanted to drop some inches before my wedding day. So, I did. Between a counting calories routine and getting some exercise (though more of the former and less of latter, to be honest), I dropped 30 lbs in 8 months. My dress had to be altered a lot (and the seamstress even commented on the fact that I bought too big of a dress size... I told her it was my "fault" for dropping the weight).
When I got pregnant roughly a year later, I was only up about 5-10 lbs from wedding weight... but then I gained a TON during pregnancy (too many brownies) and my daughter wasn't nearly chubby enough to take the bulk of it with her. ;) About a year after she was born, I was at my NEW highest weight (by about 15 lbs, I think) and felt awful. So, I started the food diary/calorie counting routine again and started to (attempt to) work out again. I'll tell you though, working out with an infant/toddler at home after working 40 hours/week is REALLY difficult, both emotionally and physically).
By February 2014 I was down roughly 25 lbs, had just fit back into my pre-prego jeans, was 5-10 lbs away from pre-prego weight (and about 15-20 lbs away from wedding weight) and was feeling pretty awesome! And then, I found out that I was pregnant with my son. FANTASTIC news for my husband and I and our families, but terrible news for my body. As I mentioned before, my body is REALLY good at gaining weight.
With my son, I stopped paying attention to the scales at the doctor's office. I tried to be "good" with my eating and only had MAYBE one or two chocolate milkshakes the entire time! But, I still gained a lot of weight (much more than the "recommended" amount) and, after my son was born, I was right back to the beginning in terms of my post-prego weight loss with my daughter. Only, this time, I had a goal... by my son's 1st birthday, I wanted to have dropped the weight! So, I kicked my own ass into gear!
In May I joined a "Biggest Loser" challenge with a group of local moms. It was great to have the weekly food and exercise challenges, as well as the encouragement from others. In the 8ish weeks that the challenge occurred, I dropped roughly 13 lbs.
During the last 4 weeks of the challenge, the weather was started to get nicer, earlier so I started (again, for the third time) the Couch To 5k (C25k) running program. I would go in the mornings before work (hello 5:30 am) and go for runs... something that I was NEVER good at, and always HATED... before now, and before I saw the weight loss results that running could have! After the end of the Biggest Loser challenge I continued the C25k program and signed up for another 5k (I signed up for one with my sister in law at the beginning of the summer, but don't really count that one as I walked the majority of the course).
I had a new goal... no longer was my goal to "lose weight", but rather to RUN a 5k. And I was determined to do so by the race in August.
And I DID IT! Not only did a RUN the entire thing, but I took something like 11 minutes off my time from the first (walked) race... and finished in the middle of my age division. Did you hear that? The MIDDLE! Not the END! The amount of pride that I felt in myself was unbelievable. And, as an extra bonus, I'd lost another 10 lbs or so.
I decided to sign up for another 5k a couple months later, in early October. I continued to run with a goal to improve my time and do it for enjoyment (running on the beach is awesome!)
About a month in, something totally came in and ruined my plans... I got pneumonia. I was hospitalized for several days (more on this later) and it just completed kicked my butt and knocked me out. It was absolutely awful (more on this later) That being said... I lost about 15 lbs... in less than a week, and found myself at pre-prego weight before little man's 1st birthday. Silver lining?
Though I was down pounds-wise, I didn't feel strong anymore. I felt so, so weak..
It's been almost 2 months since I was discharged from the hospital. I have gained back about 6 lbs (I am ok with that for now, as I know that my body wasn't ready to lose it), and just started running around last week. I have signed up for a 5k in March and am looking forward to the cold, wet asphalt and my ability to, once again, see my body in action and feel strong and accomplished. Also, hoping to get back down to pre-Sam weight, followed by pre-Emily weight, followed by (dare I say?) wedding weight. ;)
Thursday, November 12, 2015
Our New Normal
There is been a bit of radio silence on this blog recently... mostly it's because life's been nuts (in addition to the general nuttiness of having two small children). The Corey family has decided to change things up a bit... rather drastically.
The whole thing started this summer when Jacob was offered, accepted and started a new job in Vancouver, on the other side of the river, in another state, with different taxes. Jacob started talking about wanting to move as it would effect his take-home income, but my job and our (awesome) child care situation was holding us back. Then, in August, you may remember my post about not getting a promotion that I really thought I had a high chance of getting... and was really the carrot at the end of the stick in terms of my then-current position.
I had an epiphany at that point... I was, once again, "stuck" in a position that I didn't really want to do, for less than 1/3 of what Jacob was getting paid for a job that he loves (and would bring home more from if we moved to Vancouver due to the lack of income tax). I was spending about 3 hours per weekday with my kids, 2 hours of which was stressing everyone out by trying to get them out the door in time for Jacob and I to get to work or trying to get them to bed. I never had any energy on the weekends, was commuting roughly 1.5-2 hours per day (same for Jacob) between work and shuttling kids to daycare. It just didn't make sense anymore. I have always enjoyed my work and really cared about it's mission... which I still do. But I couldn't make the argument anymore that I was continuing to work for my family and for myself... it wasn't true anymore.
So, in August, we found a house that we loved in Vancouver and put in an offer. We put our house on the market. We got an offer in September, and moved in October, the week before Sam's birthday and in November I finished working to stay home, raise my children, and manage our household.
This post was going to be about the process of the home purchase/move and our stumbling blocks... that's what I intended to write about when I started. But the post has taken a different course, and I'm going to allow it to do so. I'll tell you all more about the move later, but for now let me just tell you how amazing it is not to have wake up a sleepy 3-year old when it's still dark outside (when she REALLY doesn't want to open her eyes), skip breakfast EVERY morning because there just isn't enough time to get everything done, not eat dinner until 7:00/7:30 because I can't actually start cooking until 6:00, spend more than an hour a day listening to my children laugh and play, go to the store on a Tuesday afternoon when there are no lines, take my kids to the library and week day play grounds. Jacob is loving it, too. He can sleep/leave a little later in the morning (and in a better mood!), can come home on his lunch breaks to hang out with us, and is home about an hour earlier every night than he has been for the last 3 years... it's only day 4 (and, truth be told, today is my "me/errands day" and they are actually with the sitter while I go grocery shopping and run other errands - while still taking a Starbucks break for some peppermint hot chocolate and blog catch ups) but so far I'm not regretting my decision at all, and believe that we made the best choice for our family. I am very much looking forward to seeing what our new "normal" is going to be like. =)
Saturday, August 15, 2015
Taking Risks
This post is about 10 months in the making. I was waiting to write about it until it had an "end".... it still hasn't reached that point, so here I am, to write what I know, while I still remember it. =)
Toward the end of my pregnancy with Sam I was 95% certain that I wouldn't be returning to my job. I hadn't truly been happy there since Emily was born. I felt that the job (and the commute to get to the job) kept me away from my kids/family too much... and it was just generally a pain the ass anyway. Riding the max/bus for 2-3 hours each day for five years... I had had enough. I figured that maternity leave would give me a good chunk of time to look for a new job and get something lined up for when it was time to go back.
Of course, I didn't tell my current job that I wasn't planning to come back. They were already treating me differently with just their assumptions that I wouldn't be... and I didn't want to risk my benefits, etc., while I was out on leave.
Just a couple of weeks before my maternity leave started, a couple of directors from another, similar program met with boss to talk about how we ran our program and kept things on track in terms of federal required outcomes and such. My boss, calling me the "data guru" pulled me into the meeting so that I could help answer their questions. I left that meeting thing, "well... that was dumb" with the knowledge that a struggling program had just heard from my boss that I'm awesome and do a lot to keep the program on track.
Fast forward to December. I was on maternity leave, and was starting to look for jobs while Sam napped. I had put out several applications, and decided to e-mail the two directors that I had met with previously. I let them know that I was looking for something a bit more on a management track, and asked if they had decided to create a management position for their program. I didn't hear anything back from them, but I did get an interview at another agency as a housing case manager and personal finance instructor.
I nailed the interview. And the second interview. They offered me the position, and I accepted. I was set to start in the middle of January. I gave my job notice that I wouldn't be returning.
And then I got a phone call from the OTHER program. They wanted to bring me in for a "meeting". I agreed. We met. We talked about what types of things I'd done for my last job. They were surprised that I didn't have a more representative title based on the work that I was doing. They told me about their program and the challenges they were facing with staffing and structure. They told me that they were still trying to figure out the staffing structure for the program, that they planned to hire on a manager, and that I'd be a great candidate, but that they weren't quite "there" with budgets, etc. The asked me in what capacity (and for what wage) I'd be willing to work. They asked if I'd be interested in coming on as an independent contractor for a few months to get the program on track. I told them that it would be something that I'd consider, but also informed that that I'd already accepted another position so would need to know something/make a decision soon. They understood and said that they would get back to me the following week.
The "following week" would have been the week of Christmas, and I a week before I was set to start my new job. I didn't want to be the jerk that gives them less than a week's notice that, "surprise! The person that you hired for the position isn't going to be showing up on Monday after all!"... and I felt pretty good about the other meeting... and, as Jacob said, I was a lot more excited talking about the possibilities there than I was talking about the case management gig. So... I took a risk. Without even hearing back from the potential, short-term independent contractor gig, I turned down the new job... and crossed my fingers.
Thankfully, I was offered the contract position... and, of course, I accepted. I kicked ass. I got the program in order, helped them hire a new staff, redesigned the structure of the program and built an entire 3-week employment prep curriculum that has ultimately led to doubling program enrollments. My boss referred to me as a "God send" on several occasions. Our federal contract liaison congratulated them on getting me on board. After the three month stint, they offered me a permanent position as the program coordinator... still not a "manager", and still, really, doing the same work that I've been doing for the last several years, but at least the title and pay were more in line with the duties, so I accepted it. They continued to tell me that they were going to hire a manager (and that they hoped I'd apply), but that they needed to wait until the new funding year (July) when budgets would be refreshed. So, I waited.
Last month the manager position opened. Before I submitted my application I sat down with my boss and asked if she still thought I'd be a good fit for the position. She did. I applied. I interviewed. I waited. I didn't get it. The woman that did get the position has been with the agency for several years and is of the culture that the agency represents (it's a culturally specific organization). So, I wasn't completely surprised. My boss told me that it was a hard decision, and that she sees a lot of potential in my and room for growth within the agency. I was a bit disappointed... both about not getting the position, and also in the fact that it seems that my career has kind of plateaued at the program coordinator/direct service level.
I took many risks when I decided to leave my last position. And I don't regret a single one of them. This story hasn't ended the way I hoped or expected it to, but that just means that there are more stories, and more risks to come...
Toward the end of my pregnancy with Sam I was 95% certain that I wouldn't be returning to my job. I hadn't truly been happy there since Emily was born. I felt that the job (and the commute to get to the job) kept me away from my kids/family too much... and it was just generally a pain the ass anyway. Riding the max/bus for 2-3 hours each day for five years... I had had enough. I figured that maternity leave would give me a good chunk of time to look for a new job and get something lined up for when it was time to go back.
Of course, I didn't tell my current job that I wasn't planning to come back. They were already treating me differently with just their assumptions that I wouldn't be... and I didn't want to risk my benefits, etc., while I was out on leave.
Just a couple of weeks before my maternity leave started, a couple of directors from another, similar program met with boss to talk about how we ran our program and kept things on track in terms of federal required outcomes and such. My boss, calling me the "data guru" pulled me into the meeting so that I could help answer their questions. I left that meeting thing, "well... that was dumb" with the knowledge that a struggling program had just heard from my boss that I'm awesome and do a lot to keep the program on track.
Fast forward to December. I was on maternity leave, and was starting to look for jobs while Sam napped. I had put out several applications, and decided to e-mail the two directors that I had met with previously. I let them know that I was looking for something a bit more on a management track, and asked if they had decided to create a management position for their program. I didn't hear anything back from them, but I did get an interview at another agency as a housing case manager and personal finance instructor.
I nailed the interview. And the second interview. They offered me the position, and I accepted. I was set to start in the middle of January. I gave my job notice that I wouldn't be returning.
And then I got a phone call from the OTHER program. They wanted to bring me in for a "meeting". I agreed. We met. We talked about what types of things I'd done for my last job. They were surprised that I didn't have a more representative title based on the work that I was doing. They told me about their program and the challenges they were facing with staffing and structure. They told me that they were still trying to figure out the staffing structure for the program, that they planned to hire on a manager, and that I'd be a great candidate, but that they weren't quite "there" with budgets, etc. The asked me in what capacity (and for what wage) I'd be willing to work. They asked if I'd be interested in coming on as an independent contractor for a few months to get the program on track. I told them that it would be something that I'd consider, but also informed that that I'd already accepted another position so would need to know something/make a decision soon. They understood and said that they would get back to me the following week.
The "following week" would have been the week of Christmas, and I a week before I was set to start my new job. I didn't want to be the jerk that gives them less than a week's notice that, "surprise! The person that you hired for the position isn't going to be showing up on Monday after all!"... and I felt pretty good about the other meeting... and, as Jacob said, I was a lot more excited talking about the possibilities there than I was talking about the case management gig. So... I took a risk. Without even hearing back from the potential, short-term independent contractor gig, I turned down the new job... and crossed my fingers.
Thankfully, I was offered the contract position... and, of course, I accepted. I kicked ass. I got the program in order, helped them hire a new staff, redesigned the structure of the program and built an entire 3-week employment prep curriculum that has ultimately led to doubling program enrollments. My boss referred to me as a "God send" on several occasions. Our federal contract liaison congratulated them on getting me on board. After the three month stint, they offered me a permanent position as the program coordinator... still not a "manager", and still, really, doing the same work that I've been doing for the last several years, but at least the title and pay were more in line with the duties, so I accepted it. They continued to tell me that they were going to hire a manager (and that they hoped I'd apply), but that they needed to wait until the new funding year (July) when budgets would be refreshed. So, I waited.
Last month the manager position opened. Before I submitted my application I sat down with my boss and asked if she still thought I'd be a good fit for the position. She did. I applied. I interviewed. I waited. I didn't get it. The woman that did get the position has been with the agency for several years and is of the culture that the agency represents (it's a culturally specific organization). So, I wasn't completely surprised. My boss told me that it was a hard decision, and that she sees a lot of potential in my and room for growth within the agency. I was a bit disappointed... both about not getting the position, and also in the fact that it seems that my career has kind of plateaued at the program coordinator/direct service level.
I took many risks when I decided to leave my last position. And I don't regret a single one of them. This story hasn't ended the way I hoped or expected it to, but that just means that there are more stories, and more risks to come...
Friday, January 9, 2015
A Poop in the Hand is Worth...?
Having two kids has been an adjustment... especially one being an infant and the other a 2 year old. They both have their own challenges! Several people have asked me if it's harder having two kids than one. I don't think that it's "harder" necessarily, but just requires more of you, your time and patience.
I would compare it to getting a new, large, responsibility at work. It doesn't exactly make the job itself harder, but you have to re-prioritize in order to get everything done and you have to figure out what's the most important thing to focus on at any given time... and then you go home and drink a big glass of wine. ;)
Case and point... my life today as a mom of two while Jacob's at work:
11:20... After sitting in a quiet room having an hour-long power struggle with an obstinate toddler who refuses to put away her play dough (baby is napping at this point), I decided that it's probably a good time to make lunch as I know that baby will be waking up soon. So, I clean up the play dough, put it away on a high shelf letting Emily know that she won't be able to play with it tomorrow either as she refused to put it away today. Then I make PB&J for Emily and I (with toasted frozen bread as, apparently, the stuff that's been out on the counter is now moldy).
Sandwiches are made, half of mine is eaten, Sam starts to scream. I go into the nursery and feed him, leaving Emily alone in the dining room to finish her lunch. After feeding Sam (who hasn't been feeling well and has been spitting up more than normal), I realize that he smells kind of gross and decide to give him a bath. I fill up his tub, get him undressed and into it, and give him a quick wipe down. Emily comes in with her face and hands covered in peanut butter and jelly. I tell her to go wash her hands and face with WATER (not just the dry napkin that she's holding). She goes into the other bathroom and, presumably, washes up (I have yet to check out that bathroom).
By the time she's done there, I'm getting a screaming Sam out of the tub. She decides that she wants to take a bath so, I empty out Sam's tub and fill up the bath tub for her to play around in. I take Sam into his room to get a diaper on and get him dressed (yelling questions to Emily so that, by her responses, I'll know that she hasn't drowned... I'm paranoid). Sam's still screaming. I think he's tired again, so I put him in his crib and swaddle him. He's still screaming, but sleepily so I leave to go check on Emily.
Sam falls asleep. I take the opportunity to grab my pump. Since Sam hasn't been feeling well, he hasn't been eating as much, which means that I've been a little, um, "full". I set up shop outside the bathroom door so I can keep an eye/ear on Emily and start to pump. I get a couple of ounces in when, almost simultaneously, I hear:
Sam: SCREAMING
Emily: Mom, I pooped in the bathtub! See??!
I quickly disconnect myself from the pump and make a quick assessment of the situation... screaming child or child in bathtub who is HOLDING her own feces. Hmm. Tough one? No.
I grab toilet paper, take the offending log out of her hand and put it in the toilet. Lift her up and put her on the potty so that she can finish, empty out the bathtub, grab some Clorox wipes to wipe down the interior and exterior of the tub (it got everywhere since she was passing it between both hands and then touching things), grab some paper towels so that she can wipe her hands off. Wipe her butt when she's done, take her to the sink so she can wash her hands with soap and then sanitize. The whole time Sam is screaming from his crib.
Once I'm pretty sure that all fecal matter has been addressed, I go in to get Sam and Emily heads to her room to get dressed.
Sam is pretty much inconsolable by this point so I'm walking, bouncing, shushing, anything that I can think of. I go into the dining room to get his vibrating bouncer chair and see my lunch sitting on the table. Oh yeah. I was eating lunch, wasn't I?
I take Sam and his chair into the master bedroom and manage to calm him down so that I can finish pumping. Emily comes in, all dressed. She sees a bottle of lotion on my nightstand and decides that she needs some. It's the pump bottle variety so, of course, it sprays the wall when she pushes down on it. I tell her to go grab a towel. She goes into the bathroom and comes back with a Clorox wipe. Oh yeah, I forgot to put those away. She takes the wipe and affixes it to the wall by means of lotion. And turns around to leave it there. I manage, somehow, to continue to rock Sam with my foot, while balancing my pumping bottles on my legs so they don't get detached, and reach over with one free hand to wipe off the wall and hand the wipe to Emily to throw away.
Pumping done, I manage to get myself detached, ask Emily to play with Sam for a minute and put the milk in the fridge. I think come back into the bedroom and have a few quiet moments with Emily and Sam before naptime. Phew.
Then it's time for Emily's nap... which coincides with Sam needing to eat. So, again, Sam's screaming and Emily needs to get down for a nap. Sam goes into his bouncer once again (getting red in the face and pretty pissed off) while I try to get Emily into bed. We get the correct water cup, and the correct blanket and try to go potty and FINALLY get her in bed. I grab Sam, go into the living room, feed him, and manage to get him to fall asleep, too.
1:30... I finish my lunch.
I would compare it to getting a new, large, responsibility at work. It doesn't exactly make the job itself harder, but you have to re-prioritize in order to get everything done and you have to figure out what's the most important thing to focus on at any given time... and then you go home and drink a big glass of wine. ;)
Case and point... my life today as a mom of two while Jacob's at work:
11:20... After sitting in a quiet room having an hour-long power struggle with an obstinate toddler who refuses to put away her play dough (baby is napping at this point), I decided that it's probably a good time to make lunch as I know that baby will be waking up soon. So, I clean up the play dough, put it away on a high shelf letting Emily know that she won't be able to play with it tomorrow either as she refused to put it away today. Then I make PB&J for Emily and I (with toasted frozen bread as, apparently, the stuff that's been out on the counter is now moldy).
Sandwiches are made, half of mine is eaten, Sam starts to scream. I go into the nursery and feed him, leaving Emily alone in the dining room to finish her lunch. After feeding Sam (who hasn't been feeling well and has been spitting up more than normal), I realize that he smells kind of gross and decide to give him a bath. I fill up his tub, get him undressed and into it, and give him a quick wipe down. Emily comes in with her face and hands covered in peanut butter and jelly. I tell her to go wash her hands and face with WATER (not just the dry napkin that she's holding). She goes into the other bathroom and, presumably, washes up (I have yet to check out that bathroom).
By the time she's done there, I'm getting a screaming Sam out of the tub. She decides that she wants to take a bath so, I empty out Sam's tub and fill up the bath tub for her to play around in. I take Sam into his room to get a diaper on and get him dressed (yelling questions to Emily so that, by her responses, I'll know that she hasn't drowned... I'm paranoid). Sam's still screaming. I think he's tired again, so I put him in his crib and swaddle him. He's still screaming, but sleepily so I leave to go check on Emily.
Sam falls asleep. I take the opportunity to grab my pump. Since Sam hasn't been feeling well, he hasn't been eating as much, which means that I've been a little, um, "full". I set up shop outside the bathroom door so I can keep an eye/ear on Emily and start to pump. I get a couple of ounces in when, almost simultaneously, I hear:
Sam: SCREAMING
Emily: Mom, I pooped in the bathtub! See??!
I quickly disconnect myself from the pump and make a quick assessment of the situation... screaming child or child in bathtub who is HOLDING her own feces. Hmm. Tough one? No.
I grab toilet paper, take the offending log out of her hand and put it in the toilet. Lift her up and put her on the potty so that she can finish, empty out the bathtub, grab some Clorox wipes to wipe down the interior and exterior of the tub (it got everywhere since she was passing it between both hands and then touching things), grab some paper towels so that she can wipe her hands off. Wipe her butt when she's done, take her to the sink so she can wash her hands with soap and then sanitize. The whole time Sam is screaming from his crib.
Once I'm pretty sure that all fecal matter has been addressed, I go in to get Sam and Emily heads to her room to get dressed.
Sam is pretty much inconsolable by this point so I'm walking, bouncing, shushing, anything that I can think of. I go into the dining room to get his vibrating bouncer chair and see my lunch sitting on the table. Oh yeah. I was eating lunch, wasn't I?
I take Sam and his chair into the master bedroom and manage to calm him down so that I can finish pumping. Emily comes in, all dressed. She sees a bottle of lotion on my nightstand and decides that she needs some. It's the pump bottle variety so, of course, it sprays the wall when she pushes down on it. I tell her to go grab a towel. She goes into the bathroom and comes back with a Clorox wipe. Oh yeah, I forgot to put those away. She takes the wipe and affixes it to the wall by means of lotion. And turns around to leave it there. I manage, somehow, to continue to rock Sam with my foot, while balancing my pumping bottles on my legs so they don't get detached, and reach over with one free hand to wipe off the wall and hand the wipe to Emily to throw away.
Pumping done, I manage to get myself detached, ask Emily to play with Sam for a minute and put the milk in the fridge. I think come back into the bedroom and have a few quiet moments with Emily and Sam before naptime. Phew.
Then it's time for Emily's nap... which coincides with Sam needing to eat. So, again, Sam's screaming and Emily needs to get down for a nap. Sam goes into his bouncer once again (getting red in the face and pretty pissed off) while I try to get Emily into bed. We get the correct water cup, and the correct blanket and try to go potty and FINALLY get her in bed. I grab Sam, go into the living room, feed him, and manage to get him to fall asleep, too.
1:30... I finish my lunch.
Wednesday, November 5, 2014
The Story of Sam
I can't believe that it's been almost a full week since Sam was born and I haven't even made a "He's Here!" blog announcement! Well... he's here. =) Samuel (Sam) Joseph was born October 30th at 3:28 PM. 8 lbs, 18 inches.
Sam's birth story started LONG before his arrival however. You may all remember reading about the false alarm on the 24th, the day before his due date. After being sent home, I continued to have contractions off and on, though with no real regularity in frequency and they never really got much stronger. It seemed like every day I continued to experience other labor related symptoms (stop reading now if you don't want to hear gory details)....................................................... if it wasn't more contractions, it was soft bowel movements, loss of the mucus plug, increase in discharge... all kinds of wonderful stuff. Every day I would touch base with our doula, and every day nothing happened. I continued to go on walks, bounce and circle on my exercise ball, and try everything else that I could to get labor moving.
Finally, on Wednesday, Oct. 29th at about 7:00 PM, something extra weird happened. I was cleaning up dinner dishes and felt a weird "pop". It was like someone shoved a pin into a ping pong ball sized balloon in my "area"... a little water balloon to be exact. I said something along the lines of "well, that's weird" to Jacob and went to the bathroom to check it out.
My underwear and pants were both wet, but nothing else seemed to be going on (no additional "leakage"). I had had a similar wet incident a couple days prior (without the "pop" though), so thought it was just more of the same. I took of my bottoms and went into the bedroom to get some dry clothes. I got about two steps into the bedroom and another ping pong ball worth of water came out. At this point I went back to the bathroom and yelled to Jacob that something was definitely going on. I put on a maxi-pad and some clean clothes, Jacob called his mom. We then made calls to doctor, doula and my mom and waited for Jacob's mom to arrive to hang out with Emily.
At this point I think Emily sensed that something was going on and was acting out a bit so, I sat down on the couch with her to cuddle for a little bit, talk about what was about to happen, and take in the last few moments of being a mother of one with an amazing little girl. =)
A few minutes later, Jacob's mom showed up. I got up off the couch and started walking back to the bedroom to grab some last minute things to head out. Halfway to the bedroom a GUSH of water came out. I yelled for Jacob and hightailed it to the bathroom. I had him bring me a hand towel this time and another dry pair of pants.
Thankfully the hand towel was sufficient coverage to get us to the hospital without making more of a mess. ;)
We got to the hospital, got checked in, and myself undressed and into bed where I was once again hooked up to monitors and checked out... still having the occasional gush of fluids... weirdest feeling ever.
Since my water broke, there was no going home this time! I was told that the baby would be born, one way or another, in the next 24 hours. At that point I wasn't really having contractions and, when they checked me out, my cervix was still posterior (really high) and I was barely dilated. The nurses called the on-call OB who suggested that I try to get some sleep and that I be checked again at around 5:00 am and started on pitocin. I told the nurse that I was all for getting some sleep, but that I wanted to avoid the pitocin as long as possible. At this point we checked in with our doula, told her what was going on, and asked if she could be there for the 5 am check. Then Jacob and I tried to get comfortable and get some sleep.
Right around 3:00 am I woke up with contractions. They weren't overly strong at first, but they continued to increase in strength and frequency... to the point that I woke Jacob up and asked him to ask our doula, Kristin, if she could come earlier.
Kristin got there around 4:00 and, since I was awake and having contractions, they checked me out early. My cervix was still quite high, so Kristin encouraged me to start moving around. We walked up and down the halls for a little while, and then bounced/swayed on a birthing ball. The contractions continued to get stronger little by little. Around 8:00 am (I think, time is a bit fuzzy for me at this point), my OB came by to check in on me. I think I was dilated to about 3 cm at that point. She agreed to hold off on the pitocin as long as I was making progress on my own, and said that she'd be back during the lunch hour to check on me again. So, more walking, more bouncing.
By this point, bouncing on the ball was feeling great until I had a contraction, and then, something about the ball just intensified everything... and moved it to my back. Up until this point I was so grateful that I wasn't feeling pain in my back. After the intense back labor with Emily, I REALLY didn't want to experience that again. But, something about that damn ball just relocated the pain. Kristin was helpful with some massage/pressure during the contractions, but, ultimately I gave up on the ball and just walked around the room for a bit swaying my hips in circles trying to get the little guy to DROP already!
Somewhere around 11:00 am things started to change. The contractions were MUCH stronger now, and I was feeling most of the pain in my back, even not being on the ball. Heat didn't make much of a difference, pressure/massage still helped but not enough. There were suggestions that I get into the tub, but that just seemed like way too much work when I was in so much pain that I could barely even move. All I wanted to do was lie down. The nurses came in to check on me and decided to call my doctor, who advised them to check and see how dilated I was. By the time that they got back into the room, I was in so much pain (in my back) that I could barely move and, it was at that point, that I decided that I wanted the epidural.
My plan, with both births, was always to see how far I could get without pain meds as I knew that getting them could prolong/slow down the labor process. But, at the same time, I didn't feel the need to put myself through so much pain when relief was available. I think that I could have gone longer had the contractions not moved to my back... but that pain is like nothing else imaginable and I had had enough.
Since I was in so much pain and asked for the epidural, the nurses decided to wait on checking my cervix until about the drugs had been administered. So the anesthesiologist was called. I think she arrived pretty quickly and got me set up for the needle. Our doula had to leave (protocol apparently) until everything was said and done, but Jacob was able to stay there with me. It was really hard not to clench/move/yell in agony while sitting on that table and getting contractions while trying to also get a needle shoved in my back. The doc told me that I have some pretty strong back muscles... still not sure if that was a good/bad thing given the situation. =)
After the drugs kicked in, I got settled back into bed and the nurses checked me out... 7 cm. I was pissed. With all that pain, work that I'd gone through, I thought for sure that I'd be farther along then that! Shortly thereafter my OB came back up to check on me. It had been less than half an hour since the nurses checked me, so I wasn't expecting much... but THANK GOD I was at a 9! Two centimeters in less than 30 minutes! I was THRILLED. Since I was making so much progress on my own, pitocin was no longer on the table and my doctor advised the nurses to let me labor for awhile on my own.
It was now lunch time on the 30th. I joked with Kristin and Jacob that they could feel free to go grab lunch and bring it back into the room... as long as it wasn't a bacon cheese burger. =) Since I wasn't allowed to eat, I certainly didn't want to smell anything TOO good!
That's the last thing I really remember until "waking up" to a room full of people in blue scurrying around in what felt like a bit of a panicked state.
I didn't really know what was going on and what the problem was. All I knew is that I was shaking pretty uncontrollably. The anesthesiologist was back in the room, as was my nurses and one or two more, and my OB. I remembering hearing something about a "cord issue", having a hard time finding the heartbeat, and references to my blood pressure. Someone else put an oxygen mask on me. Needless to say, I was getting a little freaked out... which probably didn't help the shaking. However, I do remember the anesthesiologist telling me that the shaking was perfectly normal... so that helped a bit.
After things calmed down a little bit, I was able to determine that the "cord issue" was an issue with the blood pressure machine's cord (not the umbilical cord). They were having a hard time getting the heartbeat with the external monitors in the position that I was in, but once they put an internal monitor in there was no problem. I'm still unclear if I actually had a blood pressure spike, or if the machine was just malfunctioning. Either way... way to freak out a laboring mama for no apparently reason! (And without much communication during the process!).
After calming myself down and getting some explanations, I was able to relax and rest for a bit longer... getting checked ever so often to see about my dilation and cervix thinning. They also asked me constantly about any pressure that I may be feeling and if I was feeling a need to push. I was definitely feeling pressure (much like the pressure you feel when you need to have a bowel movement) but wasn't feeling the need to push.
At around 3:00 PM, my OB came up again to check on me, and decided to try a couple of "practice pushes". She explained what I was going to do and how (deep breath, push for 10 seconds during a contractions while pulling myself into my bent, raised legs... three times during each contractions). We then waited for a contraction to come (which I still knew was happening because that's when the "pressure" felt the strongest) and I "practiced" a push. After that one practice push, my doc was asking for a robe because the baby was coming!
By 3:23 PM a contraction came and we were set up and ready to start the "real" pushing. I pushed through 2 contractions (6 pushes) and the little guy was OUT... at 3:28 PM. That's right... only FIVE MINUTES of pushing. So, so happy that part went so quickly! (As opposed to 3 hours with Emily!).
I had no tearing. The placenta came out shortly thereafter. I got to hold my little guy while the nurses started clean up and checking him out. He even latched out for his first feeding without me even trying to get him there. I'm so, so thankful that everything went so smoothly and that we now have a healthy little guy with a head full of blonde hair (I'm glad the heart burn I had was due to something!) and, what appears to be, brown eyes (which is super weird as both his dad and I have blue eyes!).
Jacob's folks brought Emily by the hospital later that evening so that she could meet her new brother. She was pretty excited about it and wanted to hold him and "pet" him. She calls him her baby and gives him kisses and cuddles up next to him.
We were able to get discharged on the 31st, in the evening. This was really important to me as I wanted to be there to see Emily off as she went trick-or-treating for, really, the first time. Her grandmother's took her to a few houses around the neighborhood. She was dressed up as a princess and had so much fun.
I love my family. And I love how "complete" I feel that we are now with Sam in our lives. I am so looking forward to seeing what the future brings for us!
Sam's birth story started LONG before his arrival however. You may all remember reading about the false alarm on the 24th, the day before his due date. After being sent home, I continued to have contractions off and on, though with no real regularity in frequency and they never really got much stronger. It seemed like every day I continued to experience other labor related symptoms (stop reading now if you don't want to hear gory details)....................................................... if it wasn't more contractions, it was soft bowel movements, loss of the mucus plug, increase in discharge... all kinds of wonderful stuff. Every day I would touch base with our doula, and every day nothing happened. I continued to go on walks, bounce and circle on my exercise ball, and try everything else that I could to get labor moving.
Finally, on Wednesday, Oct. 29th at about 7:00 PM, something extra weird happened. I was cleaning up dinner dishes and felt a weird "pop". It was like someone shoved a pin into a ping pong ball sized balloon in my "area"... a little water balloon to be exact. I said something along the lines of "well, that's weird" to Jacob and went to the bathroom to check it out.
My underwear and pants were both wet, but nothing else seemed to be going on (no additional "leakage"). I had had a similar wet incident a couple days prior (without the "pop" though), so thought it was just more of the same. I took of my bottoms and went into the bedroom to get some dry clothes. I got about two steps into the bedroom and another ping pong ball worth of water came out. At this point I went back to the bathroom and yelled to Jacob that something was definitely going on. I put on a maxi-pad and some clean clothes, Jacob called his mom. We then made calls to doctor, doula and my mom and waited for Jacob's mom to arrive to hang out with Emily.
At this point I think Emily sensed that something was going on and was acting out a bit so, I sat down on the couch with her to cuddle for a little bit, talk about what was about to happen, and take in the last few moments of being a mother of one with an amazing little girl. =)
A few minutes later, Jacob's mom showed up. I got up off the couch and started walking back to the bedroom to grab some last minute things to head out. Halfway to the bedroom a GUSH of water came out. I yelled for Jacob and hightailed it to the bathroom. I had him bring me a hand towel this time and another dry pair of pants.
Thankfully the hand towel was sufficient coverage to get us to the hospital without making more of a mess. ;)
We got to the hospital, got checked in, and myself undressed and into bed where I was once again hooked up to monitors and checked out... still having the occasional gush of fluids... weirdest feeling ever.
Since my water broke, there was no going home this time! I was told that the baby would be born, one way or another, in the next 24 hours. At that point I wasn't really having contractions and, when they checked me out, my cervix was still posterior (really high) and I was barely dilated. The nurses called the on-call OB who suggested that I try to get some sleep and that I be checked again at around 5:00 am and started on pitocin. I told the nurse that I was all for getting some sleep, but that I wanted to avoid the pitocin as long as possible. At this point we checked in with our doula, told her what was going on, and asked if she could be there for the 5 am check. Then Jacob and I tried to get comfortable and get some sleep.
Right around 3:00 am I woke up with contractions. They weren't overly strong at first, but they continued to increase in strength and frequency... to the point that I woke Jacob up and asked him to ask our doula, Kristin, if she could come earlier.
Kristin got there around 4:00 and, since I was awake and having contractions, they checked me out early. My cervix was still quite high, so Kristin encouraged me to start moving around. We walked up and down the halls for a little while, and then bounced/swayed on a birthing ball. The contractions continued to get stronger little by little. Around 8:00 am (I think, time is a bit fuzzy for me at this point), my OB came by to check in on me. I think I was dilated to about 3 cm at that point. She agreed to hold off on the pitocin as long as I was making progress on my own, and said that she'd be back during the lunch hour to check on me again. So, more walking, more bouncing.
By this point, bouncing on the ball was feeling great until I had a contraction, and then, something about the ball just intensified everything... and moved it to my back. Up until this point I was so grateful that I wasn't feeling pain in my back. After the intense back labor with Emily, I REALLY didn't want to experience that again. But, something about that damn ball just relocated the pain. Kristin was helpful with some massage/pressure during the contractions, but, ultimately I gave up on the ball and just walked around the room for a bit swaying my hips in circles trying to get the little guy to DROP already!
Somewhere around 11:00 am things started to change. The contractions were MUCH stronger now, and I was feeling most of the pain in my back, even not being on the ball. Heat didn't make much of a difference, pressure/massage still helped but not enough. There were suggestions that I get into the tub, but that just seemed like way too much work when I was in so much pain that I could barely even move. All I wanted to do was lie down. The nurses came in to check on me and decided to call my doctor, who advised them to check and see how dilated I was. By the time that they got back into the room, I was in so much pain (in my back) that I could barely move and, it was at that point, that I decided that I wanted the epidural.
My plan, with both births, was always to see how far I could get without pain meds as I knew that getting them could prolong/slow down the labor process. But, at the same time, I didn't feel the need to put myself through so much pain when relief was available. I think that I could have gone longer had the contractions not moved to my back... but that pain is like nothing else imaginable and I had had enough.
Since I was in so much pain and asked for the epidural, the nurses decided to wait on checking my cervix until about the drugs had been administered. So the anesthesiologist was called. I think she arrived pretty quickly and got me set up for the needle. Our doula had to leave (protocol apparently) until everything was said and done, but Jacob was able to stay there with me. It was really hard not to clench/move/yell in agony while sitting on that table and getting contractions while trying to also get a needle shoved in my back. The doc told me that I have some pretty strong back muscles... still not sure if that was a good/bad thing given the situation. =)
After the drugs kicked in, I got settled back into bed and the nurses checked me out... 7 cm. I was pissed. With all that pain, work that I'd gone through, I thought for sure that I'd be farther along then that! Shortly thereafter my OB came back up to check on me. It had been less than half an hour since the nurses checked me, so I wasn't expecting much... but THANK GOD I was at a 9! Two centimeters in less than 30 minutes! I was THRILLED. Since I was making so much progress on my own, pitocin was no longer on the table and my doctor advised the nurses to let me labor for awhile on my own.
It was now lunch time on the 30th. I joked with Kristin and Jacob that they could feel free to go grab lunch and bring it back into the room... as long as it wasn't a bacon cheese burger. =) Since I wasn't allowed to eat, I certainly didn't want to smell anything TOO good!
That's the last thing I really remember until "waking up" to a room full of people in blue scurrying around in what felt like a bit of a panicked state.
I didn't really know what was going on and what the problem was. All I knew is that I was shaking pretty uncontrollably. The anesthesiologist was back in the room, as was my nurses and one or two more, and my OB. I remembering hearing something about a "cord issue", having a hard time finding the heartbeat, and references to my blood pressure. Someone else put an oxygen mask on me. Needless to say, I was getting a little freaked out... which probably didn't help the shaking. However, I do remember the anesthesiologist telling me that the shaking was perfectly normal... so that helped a bit.
After things calmed down a little bit, I was able to determine that the "cord issue" was an issue with the blood pressure machine's cord (not the umbilical cord). They were having a hard time getting the heartbeat with the external monitors in the position that I was in, but once they put an internal monitor in there was no problem. I'm still unclear if I actually had a blood pressure spike, or if the machine was just malfunctioning. Either way... way to freak out a laboring mama for no apparently reason! (And without much communication during the process!).
After calming myself down and getting some explanations, I was able to relax and rest for a bit longer... getting checked ever so often to see about my dilation and cervix thinning. They also asked me constantly about any pressure that I may be feeling and if I was feeling a need to push. I was definitely feeling pressure (much like the pressure you feel when you need to have a bowel movement) but wasn't feeling the need to push.
At around 3:00 PM, my OB came up again to check on me, and decided to try a couple of "practice pushes". She explained what I was going to do and how (deep breath, push for 10 seconds during a contractions while pulling myself into my bent, raised legs... three times during each contractions). We then waited for a contraction to come (which I still knew was happening because that's when the "pressure" felt the strongest) and I "practiced" a push. After that one practice push, my doc was asking for a robe because the baby was coming!
By 3:23 PM a contraction came and we were set up and ready to start the "real" pushing. I pushed through 2 contractions (6 pushes) and the little guy was OUT... at 3:28 PM. That's right... only FIVE MINUTES of pushing. So, so happy that part went so quickly! (As opposed to 3 hours with Emily!).
I had no tearing. The placenta came out shortly thereafter. I got to hold my little guy while the nurses started clean up and checking him out. He even latched out for his first feeding without me even trying to get him there. I'm so, so thankful that everything went so smoothly and that we now have a healthy little guy with a head full of blonde hair (I'm glad the heart burn I had was due to something!) and, what appears to be, brown eyes (which is super weird as both his dad and I have blue eyes!).
Jacob's folks brought Emily by the hospital later that evening so that she could meet her new brother. She was pretty excited about it and wanted to hold him and "pet" him. She calls him her baby and gives him kisses and cuddles up next to him.
We were able to get discharged on the 31st, in the evening. This was really important to me as I wanted to be there to see Emily off as she went trick-or-treating for, really, the first time. Her grandmother's took her to a few houses around the neighborhood. She was dressed up as a princess and had so much fun.
I love my family. And I love how "complete" I feel that we are now with Sam in our lives. I am so looking forward to seeing what the future brings for us!
Friday, October 24, 2014
False Alarm =(
Last night I started to feel kind of weird. Around 8:00 in the evening I started to feel some "indigestion" (kind of like how I feel when I eat too much dairy), but I didn't think I had any reason to be feeling that way... and "that way" is very similar to how I felt right before I realized that I was in labor with Emily. So, I put myself on alert and started to pay close attention to what was going on with my body.
Around 10:30 I was still feeling "weird", but nothing really special. Some slight cramping, but nothing regular to time. So, after filling in our doula and making sure that Jacob's mom (who would be coming over to hang out with Emily when I go into labor) was on stand by, I decided to go to bed and try to get some sleep. By that point my lower back/tailbone area was a bit achy, but nothing too out of the ordinary.
Somewhere around 2:00 am I woke up. Not really sure why I woke up, but I realized that I was having contractions. Not the Braxton hicks ones that I've been having for weeks, but actual contractions (and in the FRONT this time.... I was so realized as the entire time I was in labor with Em the pain was in my back). I clocked them for about 20=30 minutes, trying to decide if it was the right time to wake up Jacob and get the ball rolling. They were coming at about 4 minutes apart. They weren't overly painful, but they were definitely there. Jacob finally shifted/rolled over, giving me the opportunity to wake him up NOT from a dead sleep and the ball went into motion.
Last minute hospital bag stuff was packed, Nana was called to come over, pull out bed was made for her, doctor and doula were both informed of the situation. Left for the hospital. Still having contractions, still not overly painful, but there.
We got to the hospital a little after 3:00 AM and got check in to a room. I got gown-ed up and the monitors were attached to my belly. The monitors were picking up the contractions, but they had backed off and were irregularly coming 5-8 minutes apart. The nurse check me out and my cervix was still REALLY high, and I was barely dilated.
One of the most disappointing feelings in the world to be sent home from the maternity ward. I was definitely HAVING real contractions, they just weren't progressing anything else, so we were told to go home, get some rest, and monitor my progress. I managed to get a couple hours of sleep when we got home, and by the time I got out of bed around 8:00 AM, the contractions stopped.
So, so, so bummed out right now. =( I'm 39 weeks and SIX DAYS... it's TIME. =P
Around 10:30 I was still feeling "weird", but nothing really special. Some slight cramping, but nothing regular to time. So, after filling in our doula and making sure that Jacob's mom (who would be coming over to hang out with Emily when I go into labor) was on stand by, I decided to go to bed and try to get some sleep. By that point my lower back/tailbone area was a bit achy, but nothing too out of the ordinary.
Somewhere around 2:00 am I woke up. Not really sure why I woke up, but I realized that I was having contractions. Not the Braxton hicks ones that I've been having for weeks, but actual contractions (and in the FRONT this time.... I was so realized as the entire time I was in labor with Em the pain was in my back). I clocked them for about 20=30 minutes, trying to decide if it was the right time to wake up Jacob and get the ball rolling. They were coming at about 4 minutes apart. They weren't overly painful, but they were definitely there. Jacob finally shifted/rolled over, giving me the opportunity to wake him up NOT from a dead sleep and the ball went into motion.
Last minute hospital bag stuff was packed, Nana was called to come over, pull out bed was made for her, doctor and doula were both informed of the situation. Left for the hospital. Still having contractions, still not overly painful, but there.
We got to the hospital a little after 3:00 AM and got check in to a room. I got gown-ed up and the monitors were attached to my belly. The monitors were picking up the contractions, but they had backed off and were irregularly coming 5-8 minutes apart. The nurse check me out and my cervix was still REALLY high, and I was barely dilated.
One of the most disappointing feelings in the world to be sent home from the maternity ward. I was definitely HAVING real contractions, they just weren't progressing anything else, so we were told to go home, get some rest, and monitor my progress. I managed to get a couple hours of sleep when we got home, and by the time I got out of bed around 8:00 AM, the contractions stopped.
So, so, so bummed out right now. =( I'm 39 weeks and SIX DAYS... it's TIME. =P
Sunday, September 14, 2014
The Darndest Things
Emily's vocabulary has been skyrocketing these last few months. It's really been funny/entertaining to hear the things that come out of her mouth. I also know that she's starting to repeat things that we say... without really understanding the social context (i.e. that she can sound kind of rude. lol). Some of my favorites words/phrases that she's using so far:
"Friends": I'm sooo excited that she's learning this one... and that she has so many friends to talk about. =)
"Just a minute": This is obviously something that she's repeating from adults in her life, and it can be frustrating to no end if we're in a hurry, but it's still pretty cute.
"No Thank You": Generally it is great to hear her being so polite, however when it's in response to a request such as "Come help me clean up your room" it can get a little irritating. ;)
"I'm fine": Often in response to trying to get her to eat more dinner or try to use the potty.
"Wake up daddy": She says this to get Jacob out of bed... but also in the car (when he's not driving). We think he has a reputation. ;)
"Ex-scuse me": After she passes gas... which is often. She takes after her dad. And then she says, "That's me!"
"My [fill in the blank]": Usually reserved for people such as "my mom", "my dad", "my [friend's name]". It puts a smile on me face when I pick her up from daycare and hear her say "My mommy!" with a giant smile on her face.
It really is so great that she's able to communicate with us better now. She can tell us when she wants/needs something ("mommy, I need chocolate chips"), and when she doesn't want something. She can tell us when she has an owie, and she can have mini conversations with us about things that happen at day care. (She bit a kid the other day, and we were able to talk about it several hours later with her understanding that her actions were wrong). She also "sings" to us in the car sometimes. =) I'm loving this stage. Each new stage gets more and more interesting. =)
"Friends": I'm sooo excited that she's learning this one... and that she has so many friends to talk about. =)
"Just a minute": This is obviously something that she's repeating from adults in her life, and it can be frustrating to no end if we're in a hurry, but it's still pretty cute.
"No Thank You": Generally it is great to hear her being so polite, however when it's in response to a request such as "Come help me clean up your room" it can get a little irritating. ;)
"I'm fine": Often in response to trying to get her to eat more dinner or try to use the potty.
"Wake up daddy": She says this to get Jacob out of bed... but also in the car (when he's not driving). We think he has a reputation. ;)
"Ex-scuse me": After she passes gas... which is often. She takes after her dad. And then she says, "That's me!"
"My [fill in the blank]": Usually reserved for people such as "my mom", "my dad", "my [friend's name]". It puts a smile on me face when I pick her up from daycare and hear her say "My mommy!" with a giant smile on her face.
It really is so great that she's able to communicate with us better now. She can tell us when she wants/needs something ("mommy, I need chocolate chips"), and when she doesn't want something. She can tell us when she has an owie, and she can have mini conversations with us about things that happen at day care. (She bit a kid the other day, and we were able to talk about it several hours later with her understanding that her actions were wrong). She also "sings" to us in the car sometimes. =) I'm loving this stage. Each new stage gets more and more interesting. =)
Saturday, July 19, 2014
Camping While Pregnant with a Potty Training Toddler
I was a little nervous about our camping trip last week... both due to the fact that I'm 6 months prego, that Emily was only one week into potty training, and that it was forecast to be roughly 90F throughout the weekend. But, we had the reservation, so we went for it. And, for the most part, I'm happy to report that it went very well!
We went up to Camp Dakota. Jacob had a Groupon for some of the activities. Since I'm not really able to go ziplining, rock climbing and paint balling, he invited his brother to go along. Emily had an absolute blast hanging out with her cousin Sophie! (It would be cool to go back sometime when the kids are older and I can actually DO some of the stuff!)
So, the key things to note before I overwhelm you all with pictures:
We went up to Camp Dakota. Jacob had a Groupon for some of the activities. Since I'm not really able to go ziplining, rock climbing and paint balling, he invited his brother to go along. Emily had an absolute blast hanging out with her cousin Sophie! (It would be cool to go back sometime when the kids are older and I can actually DO some of the stuff!)
So, the key things to note before I overwhelm you all with pictures:
- Emily didn't have a SINGLE accident! She "went" the whole weekend in her little potty!
- The air mattress that I slept on was almost more comfortable that my Tempur-pedic bed... had a lot more "give" to it.
- We were at a higher elevation, with more trees... so it only got in the 70s or so. Great weather. Though, still 6 months pregnant and over heating. =)
- Holding a potty training toddler over a porta-potty in the heat while pregnant is really, really gross.
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| Perfect combo: One cousin learning how to read, another cousin who loves to be read to! |
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| Emily would fall asleep each night on her air mattress in her sleeping bag, but every night she ended up squeezed between Jacob and I. |
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| Our "indoor plumbing" ;) |
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| Learning Frisbee Golf! |
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| She's got quite the arm! |
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| Jacob and Sophie working their way to the top! |
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| Our tee pee. It was too hot to actually use, but cool to look at. ;) |
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| She LOVED this tire swing. Scared the crap out of me though! |
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| Making a fire in the tee pee while we hang out outside. =) |
Monday, July 7, 2014
Boot Camp: Day Four!
Yesterday was the last day of potty training boot camp... and it went just as well as the other three days. =)
Emily had one number 2 accident, but I think it was a fart turned wrong and she surprised herself as much as us! I also took a risk and chose not to put her in a diaper for her nap (since she'd been dry the last two days during nap and went potty right beforehand)... but it was a Murphy's Law situation and she wet the bed. Oh well. No harm, no foul. =)
We also ventured out of the house again, went to a splash pad to cool off and then went to Target to buy some more little underwear (apparently I didn't have as many on hand as I thought I did).
She still isn't really TELLING us when she needs to go, but if we mention it to her, and she needs to go, she will (otherwise she says "no potty" and we move on). I'm hoping that this will get better and she'll start doing it herself and/or vocalizing the need to us more.
Today I dropped her off at daycare with a couple extra sets of clothes, a sticker potty chart, stickers and some treats. I felt bad dropping her off in underwear when she's not 100% reliable yet, but I have to remind myself that her daycare provider has much more experience at potty training than we do! lol Sounds like she had another number 2 accident today, but otherwise used the little potty at daycare. After dinner tonight she went into the bathroom to (I thought) wash her hands and face (our routine), but soon I hear "Mommy potty!" so I go in there and she's sitting on her little potty with a smile on her face pointing between her legs. lol Sure enough, she'd gone potty without prompting!
Next weekend we're going camping, so that will be interesting. =) On the advice of some other moms, we just ordered a Potette Plus potty. It won't be here in time for this trip, but I think it will be useful to have something to easily travel with.
Over all, I think our potty training boot camp was a success. And I'm really looking forward to that last diaper! =)
Emily had one number 2 accident, but I think it was a fart turned wrong and she surprised herself as much as us! I also took a risk and chose not to put her in a diaper for her nap (since she'd been dry the last two days during nap and went potty right beforehand)... but it was a Murphy's Law situation and she wet the bed. Oh well. No harm, no foul. =)
We also ventured out of the house again, went to a splash pad to cool off and then went to Target to buy some more little underwear (apparently I didn't have as many on hand as I thought I did).
She still isn't really TELLING us when she needs to go, but if we mention it to her, and she needs to go, she will (otherwise she says "no potty" and we move on). I'm hoping that this will get better and she'll start doing it herself and/or vocalizing the need to us more.
Today I dropped her off at daycare with a couple extra sets of clothes, a sticker potty chart, stickers and some treats. I felt bad dropping her off in underwear when she's not 100% reliable yet, but I have to remind myself that her daycare provider has much more experience at potty training than we do! lol Sounds like she had another number 2 accident today, but otherwise used the little potty at daycare. After dinner tonight she went into the bathroom to (I thought) wash her hands and face (our routine), but soon I hear "Mommy potty!" so I go in there and she's sitting on her little potty with a smile on her face pointing between her legs. lol Sure enough, she'd gone potty without prompting!
Next weekend we're going camping, so that will be interesting. =) On the advice of some other moms, we just ordered a Potette Plus potty. It won't be here in time for this trip, but I think it will be useful to have something to easily travel with.
Over all, I think our potty training boot camp was a success. And I'm really looking forward to that last diaper! =)
Saturday, July 5, 2014
Boot Camp: Day Three
Day three of potty training boot camp started at 9:30! Emily was up late watching the fireworks last night, and actually slept in! Though, I think the fact that she's still not feeling 100% probably added to that (did I mention, she's been taking 2.5 hour naps these last few days? That's, like, an hour longer than I usually get out of her!).
With today's training, we added underwear. We've been reading this book a lot about a "big sister" and the differences between her and the new baby in her family (in preparation of Em's baby brother coming), but it also talks about how big girls wear underpants, so, I was able to relate back to the story to explain them to her when she kept calling them "shorts" and didn't understand why she'd put another pair of pants on over them. lol
After getting up and getting breakfast, Emily and I went to the farmer's market. She told me once that she needed to use the potty, so I we made a bee line to the porta-potty. I got her up on the seat and she said "done". I think I've got a potty snob on my hands. ;)
I've also been a little concerned about her as she hasn't been eating much the last few days and hasn't yet pooped. I've been urging her to try to go number 2 a lot, and I think that I may have been over doing it. She held EVERYTHING for about 8 hours. Right around the 6 hour mark I told myself that I wasn't going to say anything else to her and, if she had an accident, then she had an accident. Wouldn't be the end of the world.
We went to the park and played for awhile (I was hoping to run the poop out of her. lol), and then we headed back home to cool off and make dinner. We went outside to water the garden, and she did, indeed have a (wet) accident. I had her take off her shorts and underwear, hosed down the area where she peed, and then asked if she had to finish up on the potty. She said yes and went inside. I finished up with the watering and went to check on her. She was sitting on the potty going number 2. =) It's amazing how much a little poop can make a mom feel better about things! lol
Tomorrow is the final potty training boot camp day, and I'm feeling pretty good about it. I'm going to try to lay off on the potty nagging and see how well she does on her own. I've been really proud of my little girl (and excited to give up diapers for awhile!**).
**Still doing diapers and nap and bedtime, but the past two days she has been dry after her nap, so may pull that diaper here soon as well!
With today's training, we added underwear. We've been reading this book a lot about a "big sister" and the differences between her and the new baby in her family (in preparation of Em's baby brother coming), but it also talks about how big girls wear underpants, so, I was able to relate back to the story to explain them to her when she kept calling them "shorts" and didn't understand why she'd put another pair of pants on over them. lol
After getting up and getting breakfast, Emily and I went to the farmer's market. She told me once that she needed to use the potty, so I we made a bee line to the porta-potty. I got her up on the seat and she said "done". I think I've got a potty snob on my hands. ;)
I've also been a little concerned about her as she hasn't been eating much the last few days and hasn't yet pooped. I've been urging her to try to go number 2 a lot, and I think that I may have been over doing it. She held EVERYTHING for about 8 hours. Right around the 6 hour mark I told myself that I wasn't going to say anything else to her and, if she had an accident, then she had an accident. Wouldn't be the end of the world.
We went to the park and played for awhile (I was hoping to run the poop out of her. lol), and then we headed back home to cool off and make dinner. We went outside to water the garden, and she did, indeed have a (wet) accident. I had her take off her shorts and underwear, hosed down the area where she peed, and then asked if she had to finish up on the potty. She said yes and went inside. I finished up with the watering and went to check on her. She was sitting on the potty going number 2. =) It's amazing how much a little poop can make a mom feel better about things! lol
Tomorrow is the final potty training boot camp day, and I'm feeling pretty good about it. I'm going to try to lay off on the potty nagging and see how well she does on her own. I've been really proud of my little girl (and excited to give up diapers for awhile!**).
**Still doing diapers and nap and bedtime, but the past two days she has been dry after her nap, so may pull that diaper here soon as well!
Boot Camp: Day Two
(Posting late! Went out to celebrate the 4th last night and just getting around to finishing this one!)
Day two started much earlier than expected. Emily was pretty violently crying at 1am. I went in to check on her, thinking that she'd had a nightmare. I picked her up, sat down in our glider and BAM! She heaved a mixture of hot dog and watermelon all over my bare back. Let me tell you, I was wide awake at that point!
After getting Jacob's attention, I was able to hand off the kid and go jump in the shower to rinse off.
Emily had a fever, so we gave her some Tylenol and everyone tried to go back to bed... But that's when baby decided he most wanted to practice his amnio-aerobics, so I was up for a bit longer dealing with that and stressing about potty training while sick.
Em woke up at about 7:30, still with a fever. But, by 8:30 the fever had broken and she'd gotten her first potty sticker of the day, so, decided to venture on! She'd been complaining about her teeth yesterday, so I'm hoping it's teething issues and not some bug!
Today was pants (but no underwear day), and it went well! Day 2 of no accidents! Also, day 2 of no number 2... curious how that's going to pan out. lol
I've been asking Emily every couple of hours or so if she needs to go potty. When she tells me "no" I listen. For the most part, she's been pretty good about going when she needs to when I ask her, but she hasn't yet initiated it on her own.
This evening we went to my in-laws place for a big Fourth of July BBQ event and to watch the fireworks from their houseboat. Emily hasn't been eating much today (which wasn't a surprise to me if she did have some stomach something or other), and dinner was the same. She ate some pretzels, but that was about it. She also started to look kind of queasy during dinner and had a bit of a fever, so, after eating my share of the awesome food, and giving her another dose of Tylenol, I excused us and went back to sit in the house. She fell asleep for about an hour or so. Woke up, went potty, played for a little bit, and then was looking exhausted again. When I asked if she wanted to put on jammies, she pretty much jumped at the chance. And, after jammies were on, she grabbed a blanket and curled up in bed. So, I left her sleep. She probably slept for another 30 minutes or so and then was awake. Since she's had such a late nap, we decided to let her try to stay up for the fireworks and play with her cousins.
I was a bit nervous about having her out of the house during potty training, but she did really really well. And, like I said, no accidents! So far I've been really happy with the experiences. She's doing such a great job! (And she's really digging the stickers! lol)
Thursday, July 3, 2014
Boot Camp: Day One
No, I'm not participating in a 6 AM exercise regimen... I'm doing something just a little more scary... potty training a toddler... in four days. ;)
I've known for months that this weekend was going to be potty training boot camp weekend... put it on the calendar and everything. Our daycare was closed today and tomorrow for the holiday, so I have a 4-day weekend home with Emily. Since I knew that I was going to have such a great block of time to focus on it, I decided to give "Independence Day" weekend a new meaning. ;)
Last night after work I stopped by the Dollar Tree and picked up some stickers and cookies. After Emily went to bed, I made up a sticker potty chart to put in the bathroom. After reading up on potty training methods over the last few months, I came up with a plan: day one = naked day, day 2 = clothing (no undies) day, day three (and four): clothing with undies days!
*Side note: I'm not planning to attack potty training during sleeping hours quite yet... just when awake. I'll still put her in pull ups/diapers for naps and bed until I start to see some dry nights/naps and then I'll reassess.
Emily has always done pretty well at avoiding accidents when she's naked, so I wasn't too concerned about today. And she did really well! (Though, pregnant me peed about 3 times to each of her single trips. lol). She went "pee pee" in her potty three times today... and added a sticker to her chart for each successful trip. =)
The reward plan is that for every 5 "pee pees" she'll get a cookie, and every time she goes "poo poo" in the potty she'll get a cookie. She's two stickers away from her first incentive. =)
She's in bed now, I'm feeling pretty relieved at her first no-accident day, but still a little on edge about tomorrow. lol She never actually TOLD me today that she had to go... it was all on my urging (bribing), so, I'm just hoping that tomorrow she'll take a little more initiative. But, I'm going to have several pairs of shorts ready just in case. =)
Monday, June 30, 2014
Potty Time!
Me: **sneeze**
Emily (from somewhere in the house): Bless You!
Me: Thank you!
Emily (still hidden): Welcome!
Me (confused/concerned): Where are you?
Emily: Potty!
When I went into the bathroom I found her on her little potty... Going number 2!! Lol. Proud mommy moment and a great indication that next weekend's potty training "bootcamp" will be a success! =)
That's right, this long, holiday weekend we are focusing on potty training. Wish me luck! I'll be sure to post on our progress.
Any tips? I'm planning to stock up on cookies and stickers. ;)
Emily (from somewhere in the house): Bless You!
Me: Thank you!
Emily (still hidden): Welcome!
Me (confused/concerned): Where are you?
Emily: Potty!
When I went into the bathroom I found her on her little potty... Going number 2!! Lol. Proud mommy moment and a great indication that next weekend's potty training "bootcamp" will be a success! =)
That's right, this long, holiday weekend we are focusing on potty training. Wish me luck! I'll be sure to post on our progress.
Any tips? I'm planning to stock up on cookies and stickers. ;)
Tuesday, May 27, 2014
My Girl
I remember when I went back to work when Emily was about 8 weeks old. I had conversations with other moms about how much it sucked to leave them right when they are getting to a "fun" age where they can interact with you. Emily also hit a "fun" age at about 6 months when she was crawling all over the place, and at 9 months when she started walking (and subsequently running)... and at 12 months... and 18 months....
The point I'm trying to make is that I have discovered that one "fun" age is followed, almost immediately by another.
Emily turned 2 just over a month ago. Everyone has heard of the "terrible twos", and, for about a week, I thought someone had flipped some baby banshee switch on us, but the last month has been awesome. I SO much enjoy having a little person who has some personality and independence. Who can dress herself, and play alone for awhile, and TELL ME WHAT SHE WANTS.
I love that I can let her outside in the backyard to play while I make dinner and she "checks in" with me every few minutes by piggy-pressing her nose up against the screen door. I love that she no longer cries to be let out of her room when she wakes up, but rather yells "Mama!" or, simply, knocks on her bedroom door.
I love that I can set her clothes out for her, and she will put them on herself! I love that, after a meal, I can tell her to go wash her hands and she can go into the bathroom, climb up on her stool and "wash" her hands (even if she needs a second pass at it with an adult to get all the sticky off).
I love that I can tell her to get me a spoon and she'll open the drawer and grab a spoon for me. I love that I can ask her to get me the green box of crackers and she does!
I love that she UNDERSTANDS me when I'm not being very clear. For example, trying to get a garden tool outside the other day... I asked her to bring me that "thing" with the "green handle" that she likes to "pound in the rocks"... and she found and brought me exactly what I was asking for me!
I love that I can ask her about her day and she tells me that it was "good" and lists off the people that she played with.
I love that she wants to spend time with me, and "help" whenever she can (I know that stage won't last for long!)
I love that she says "Bless You" when I sneeze, and pats me on the back when I cough (and sometimes asks me if I need some water). I love that she asks me "All done?" before she tries to drag me away from the dinner table to play with her.
I love that she has so much love inside of her. She is going to be an amazing big sister, and an awesome kid. I can't wait to experience the next "fun" ages with her. It really feels like life gets more and more wonderful and fulfilling with each new day.
The point I'm trying to make is that I have discovered that one "fun" age is followed, almost immediately by another.
Emily turned 2 just over a month ago. Everyone has heard of the "terrible twos", and, for about a week, I thought someone had flipped some baby banshee switch on us, but the last month has been awesome. I SO much enjoy having a little person who has some personality and independence. Who can dress herself, and play alone for awhile, and TELL ME WHAT SHE WANTS.
I love that I can let her outside in the backyard to play while I make dinner and she "checks in" with me every few minutes by piggy-pressing her nose up against the screen door. I love that she no longer cries to be let out of her room when she wakes up, but rather yells "Mama!" or, simply, knocks on her bedroom door.
I love that I can set her clothes out for her, and she will put them on herself! I love that, after a meal, I can tell her to go wash her hands and she can go into the bathroom, climb up on her stool and "wash" her hands (even if she needs a second pass at it with an adult to get all the sticky off).
I love that I can tell her to get me a spoon and she'll open the drawer and grab a spoon for me. I love that I can ask her to get me the green box of crackers and she does!
I love that she UNDERSTANDS me when I'm not being very clear. For example, trying to get a garden tool outside the other day... I asked her to bring me that "thing" with the "green handle" that she likes to "pound in the rocks"... and she found and brought me exactly what I was asking for me!
I love that I can ask her about her day and she tells me that it was "good" and lists off the people that she played with.
I love that she wants to spend time with me, and "help" whenever she can (I know that stage won't last for long!)
I love that she says "Bless You" when I sneeze, and pats me on the back when I cough (and sometimes asks me if I need some water). I love that she asks me "All done?" before she tries to drag me away from the dinner table to play with her.
I love that she has so much love inside of her. She is going to be an amazing big sister, and an awesome kid. I can't wait to experience the next "fun" ages with her. It really feels like life gets more and more wonderful and fulfilling with each new day.
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