I am really good at keeping myself composed. I show LOTS of happiness, but if I am sad, I keep it to myself. I don't like people to see me cry, even if I am watching a sad movie. I'm really weird that way.
Anyway, as you guys know, I live in Wisconsin, and you may or may not know this, but the Packers are a pretty big deal here. Lots of team pride: heck, we have "The Lambeau Leap" and no other team has this unique and awesome celebration when a touchdown is scored (at home, of course). My family's love for the Packers goes WAY back -- my Grandpa even had Elijah Pitts at his house one time (yes, it's true! My mom got to meet him and everything. This was before the modern day hustle and bustle that surrounds famous people, making them "untouchables").
Anyway, it was THE big game the other night against our arch enemy team, The Bears ("da Bears"), the battle for the NFC Championship. I watched most of the game and then had to leave when there was 10 minutes left (we had a gift card for a local pizza place, so I called ahead and went to go pick it up). I was in my car when the Packers intercepted the ball in the final minute of the game, and the announcer said, "That's the dagger! The Green Bay Packers are going to the Super Bowl!!"
So, what do I do? I get tears in my eyes. Yep. I cried tears of joy for the Packers. Honestly, I don't get emotional over sports so I am blaming the pregnancy hormones (last time around, when I was pregnant with Elise, it was the Clifford theme song that made me cry -- how sweet that Clifford needed Emily so she chose him for her own).
I'm lame. I know.
Anyway, I am excited for the big game on February 6th. This is awesome! The last time The Pack won the Super Bowl was when I was a junior in high school. Oh yes, I wore my green and gold proudly in my small town Minnesota school. Gotta back the Pack!
Tuesday, January 25, 2011
Monday, January 17, 2011
My frog.
Andrew has been potty trained for awhile now, and he stopped using his potty seat (one of those ones that goes underneath the lid) probably two months ago. He's a "big boy" who sits on the toilet, but lately, his favorite thing to do is climb on top of the lid and place both feet on the sides of the seat and squat over the toilet, much like a frog. It's really funny to see, and no, he doesn't miss. Someday maybe he'll want to stand, but for now, this is more fun.
Thursday, January 13, 2011
Positivitiy breeds positivity.
I like helping people. It makes me feel really good. My mom talked to me yesterday and said that my sister-in-law (my brother's wife), who just had a baby on Saturday (my new little niece!) was having some struggles with breastfeeding and she could probably use some encouragement and help from me. Of course, I jumped up to the challenge. I used my knowledge base to find out what I could say/do to best help her, I grabbed my "breastfeeding Bible", The Womanly Art of Breastfeeding, and we headed over to my mom's house. My mom was providing good eats anyway.
I gave her just a few helpful tips. She had been to the lactation consultants at the clinic the previous day, and the baby had lost a pound. Now, almost all babies will lose some weight in the beginning. This is normal. I told her this. I also told her that she was doing a very good job and to look at output (that is wet and dirty diapers) to guage how much the baby is taking in. Her output was great. She stated this biggest thing was having problems with her taking both sides. I simply suggested she use the cross cradle hold when feeding her on the left side -- that way, the baby would feel like she is laying the same way. My sister-in-law said, "oh, that makes sense". I gave her some tips on how to keep her newborn awake during the feedings. I suggested she strip her down and use some baby wipes on her back, and also, taught her about breast compression. I am going to lend her my pump so that she can use it in lieu of the rental she has now.
I told her that at this age, a baby's stomach is the size of a marble -- seriously, it's true -- a marble, and that because of this, it's normal for her to want to feed every hour or two, and that eventually, it would slow down, but to feed on demand.
Pretty soon, it was time for little Olivia to eat. My sister-in-law is so lucky to have my brother -- he encourages her and supports her and is there helping her every step of the way. When they came out of the room, they said it was the best feeding she had had thus far and that those little tips I had went a long way. She took both sides and ate well. I got tears in my eyes when she told me this, and my heart swelled.
It's times like this that make me feel so blessed. I enjoy helping others, especially with something as important as this. Those first two weeks are the hardest: Baby is learning; Mom is learning -- everything is new -- and I think it's vital to have a good support network -- someone who can help you get through those early days. I'm just a phone call away. Earlier in the week, my poor sister-in-law had been in tears, not knowing if she was doing everything right or if everything was going to be okay. I think she just needed to hear that she was doing everything right and that it was all going to be okay, and that it's normal to have some struggles in the beginning.
I feel this is my calling. And even if I can't do it professionally (yet), my ultimate dream is to someday be a postpartum nurse/lactation consultant. I want to help new moms and all new babies get a good start in life. Sometimes you don't know what one little thing you say or do can do to impact someone's life in a positive way, forever. ♥
I gave her just a few helpful tips. She had been to the lactation consultants at the clinic the previous day, and the baby had lost a pound. Now, almost all babies will lose some weight in the beginning. This is normal. I told her this. I also told her that she was doing a very good job and to look at output (that is wet and dirty diapers) to guage how much the baby is taking in. Her output was great. She stated this biggest thing was having problems with her taking both sides. I simply suggested she use the cross cradle hold when feeding her on the left side -- that way, the baby would feel like she is laying the same way. My sister-in-law said, "oh, that makes sense". I gave her some tips on how to keep her newborn awake during the feedings. I suggested she strip her down and use some baby wipes on her back, and also, taught her about breast compression. I am going to lend her my pump so that she can use it in lieu of the rental she has now.
I told her that at this age, a baby's stomach is the size of a marble -- seriously, it's true -- a marble, and that because of this, it's normal for her to want to feed every hour or two, and that eventually, it would slow down, but to feed on demand.
Pretty soon, it was time for little Olivia to eat. My sister-in-law is so lucky to have my brother -- he encourages her and supports her and is there helping her every step of the way. When they came out of the room, they said it was the best feeding she had had thus far and that those little tips I had went a long way. She took both sides and ate well. I got tears in my eyes when she told me this, and my heart swelled.
It's times like this that make me feel so blessed. I enjoy helping others, especially with something as important as this. Those first two weeks are the hardest: Baby is learning; Mom is learning -- everything is new -- and I think it's vital to have a good support network -- someone who can help you get through those early days. I'm just a phone call away. Earlier in the week, my poor sister-in-law had been in tears, not knowing if she was doing everything right or if everything was going to be okay. I think she just needed to hear that she was doing everything right and that it was all going to be okay, and that it's normal to have some struggles in the beginning.
I feel this is my calling. And even if I can't do it professionally (yet), my ultimate dream is to someday be a postpartum nurse/lactation consultant. I want to help new moms and all new babies get a good start in life. Sometimes you don't know what one little thing you say or do can do to impact someone's life in a positive way, forever. ♥
Wednesday, January 12, 2011
Ultrasound was today
Monday, January 10, 2011
I feel like total crap.
I am on my 2nd cold in less than a month. All I have done since Thursday is blow my nose (seriously, my wastebasket at work here is overflowing with tissues). It's one of those head colds so the pressure is there and annoying. I was only well for about a week in-between these two colds. I feel exhausted from being pregnant anyway, and to add this on top of it is even more exhausting. This weekend I napped when my kids did and I am here at work feeling like I could take another nap. Only I can't, so it really sucks! I am not one to complain (you, my loyal readers, know that), so when I do, I mean serious business. ;)
Friday, January 7, 2011
Yes!
I get an ultrasound next Wednesday! I'll be 7 weeks and 2 days. I otherwise will not see my midwife until 12 weeks!
I called yesterday because I kept having these sharp, stabbing pains -- they didn't really feel like RLP to me, from what I can remember (and also, this is pretty early for that -- but I have read that RLP can come on sooner with subsequent pregnancies, and this is the 5th time my eggo has been preggo), but anyway, these pains were almost wave-like, like contractions, sometimes coming on when I was just sitting there. Of course, this had me worried. I was drinking my water and not doing anything strenous. I explained to the nurse that when I had my 2nd loss, I was 12 weeks along before I found out, and I had no symptoms that the baby had stopped growing 3 weeks prior. So, a lack of bleeding or cramping means nothing to me.
The nurse was very nice, and she said she'd run it by a doctor (my midwife won't be in until Monday). She said it's not good to worry so an ultrasound is definitely something they could do for me (ESPECIALLY given my past history, because normally, they just do the standard 18 week one).
So yay! Wednesday at 1:20 p.m. CST. Think good thoughts!
I called yesterday because I kept having these sharp, stabbing pains -- they didn't really feel like RLP to me, from what I can remember (and also, this is pretty early for that -- but I have read that RLP can come on sooner with subsequent pregnancies, and this is the 5th time my eggo has been preggo), but anyway, these pains were almost wave-like, like contractions, sometimes coming on when I was just sitting there. Of course, this had me worried. I was drinking my water and not doing anything strenous. I explained to the nurse that when I had my 2nd loss, I was 12 weeks along before I found out, and I had no symptoms that the baby had stopped growing 3 weeks prior. So, a lack of bleeding or cramping means nothing to me.
The nurse was very nice, and she said she'd run it by a doctor (my midwife won't be in until Monday). She said it's not good to worry so an ultrasound is definitely something they could do for me (ESPECIALLY given my past history, because normally, they just do the standard 18 week one).
So yay! Wednesday at 1:20 p.m. CST. Think good thoughts!
Wednesday, January 5, 2011
I would rather poke my eyes out.
What am I talking about? Well, I'll tell you a little story. It's called "Why we don't Take our Son to the Restaurant". The main character is a three-year-old boy with an incredible abundance of energy, a little boy whom most people say, "oh, he's just three", but after five minutes, realize that they have never encountered such a boy with THIS much personality. The boy is very much loved and he is funny and social (I would say over-social, if there is such a term); however, there are certain times in public when this boy becomes too much to handle.
Moving onto the main story here. So, we decided to brave our favorite restaurant with the kids last night. The last time we went out at a different restaurant, Andrew was actually pretty good. He stayed in his seat, and wasn't too disruptive. Elise is always good so we never have to worry about her. To set the mood, our favorite restaurant a quiet, family style venue (nothing fancy, but it's no McDonald's). The food is damn good and the bread is all baked right there. It's to die for.
Anyway, we get seated and the first thing he does is start rolling the crayons onto the floor (I need to remember to just tell them, "no crayons! He doesn't use them!"). The table next to us was placing their order and he tossed a crayon in their direction. I believe it landed in the woman's purse, but I can't be certain. So we get the crayons away from him.
Then, our server comes and gets us our water. In the meantime, Andrew is turning around in his booster seat and talking to EVERYONE. The table behind us -- and elderly couple -- he says, loudly, "hi!" As our waitress is walking away, he says, "bye! bye!!! BYE!!!" loudly, until she answers him. He also asks fellow patrons questions and tells them that he's going to his grandma's (no, he's not).
While we were waiting for our food, Andrew declares, "I WANT BUTTER.", pointing to the butter packets. We tell him we have to wait until they bring the basket of bread out. While waiting for our food, Andrew says to each passing waitress, "hi! I want food!" They really don't know what to think of this odd boy.
There is an upstairs to this restaurant that you can see from the main dining area and there is a waitress up there, and Andrew shouts, "HI!!! I SEE YOU! I WANT WATER!" The people seated at the three tables around us kept looking at us. I kind-of wanted to die. I should have maybe said, "he has Tourette's" or something to that effect.
Our soup arrives and Andrew is good while he eats. I am spooning some to Elise and she is happy as a clam, cute as can be.
Andrew randomly points out things around the room: "look, there's a furnace! There's another furnace over there! There's snowmen! Look, there's Santa!" He's so loud. At one point he says, "Santa is dancing with his butt!!" (OMG, mortifying.)
Fifteen minutes later, our food arrives and she hasn't even set the plates down and Andrew is reaching for a bun off one of the plates. He says, "I want cheeseburger" (we had ordered him fish and fries). The waitress is very patient with us, and I tell her to just ignore him and put his plate in front of him.
The rush to eat and get out of there is the game we play every time we go out to eat, and it's in full swing at the moment. Finally, when Andrew was full, Hubby decided to just take him out of the car (well, first he took him to the bathroom, and before they went to the car, Andrew dashed back over to the table before being carried out. The last I saw him, his arms were flailing). I got our food boxed up, paid our bill, left her a good tip, and got the heck out of there.
No more eating out with Andrew for quite some time. I am pretty sure that the staff at our favorite restaurant have a picture of our family in the break room with a "Warning" stamped over our faces.
Moving onto the main story here. So, we decided to brave our favorite restaurant with the kids last night. The last time we went out at a different restaurant, Andrew was actually pretty good. He stayed in his seat, and wasn't too disruptive. Elise is always good so we never have to worry about her. To set the mood, our favorite restaurant a quiet, family style venue (nothing fancy, but it's no McDonald's). The food is damn good and the bread is all baked right there. It's to die for.
Anyway, we get seated and the first thing he does is start rolling the crayons onto the floor (I need to remember to just tell them, "no crayons! He doesn't use them!"). The table next to us was placing their order and he tossed a crayon in their direction. I believe it landed in the woman's purse, but I can't be certain. So we get the crayons away from him.
Then, our server comes and gets us our water. In the meantime, Andrew is turning around in his booster seat and talking to EVERYONE. The table behind us -- and elderly couple -- he says, loudly, "hi!" As our waitress is walking away, he says, "bye! bye!!! BYE!!!" loudly, until she answers him. He also asks fellow patrons questions and tells them that he's going to his grandma's (no, he's not).
While we were waiting for our food, Andrew declares, "I WANT BUTTER.", pointing to the butter packets. We tell him we have to wait until they bring the basket of bread out. While waiting for our food, Andrew says to each passing waitress, "hi! I want food!" They really don't know what to think of this odd boy.
There is an upstairs to this restaurant that you can see from the main dining area and there is a waitress up there, and Andrew shouts, "HI!!! I SEE YOU! I WANT WATER!" The people seated at the three tables around us kept looking at us. I kind-of wanted to die. I should have maybe said, "he has Tourette's" or something to that effect.
Our soup arrives and Andrew is good while he eats. I am spooning some to Elise and she is happy as a clam, cute as can be.
Andrew randomly points out things around the room: "look, there's a furnace! There's another furnace over there! There's snowmen! Look, there's Santa!" He's so loud. At one point he says, "Santa is dancing with his butt!!" (OMG, mortifying.)
Fifteen minutes later, our food arrives and she hasn't even set the plates down and Andrew is reaching for a bun off one of the plates. He says, "I want cheeseburger" (we had ordered him fish and fries). The waitress is very patient with us, and I tell her to just ignore him and put his plate in front of him.
The rush to eat and get out of there is the game we play every time we go out to eat, and it's in full swing at the moment. Finally, when Andrew was full, Hubby decided to just take him out of the car (well, first he took him to the bathroom, and before they went to the car, Andrew dashed back over to the table before being carried out. The last I saw him, his arms were flailing). I got our food boxed up, paid our bill, left her a good tip, and got the heck out of there.
No more eating out with Andrew for quite some time. I am pretty sure that the staff at our favorite restaurant have a picture of our family in the break room with a "Warning" stamped over our faces.
Monday, January 3, 2011
Yikes! Good thing I caught it . . .
I go home on my lunch break every day to feed my baby and eat lunch myself. I only live 5 minutes away, so it's kind-of a nice break in my day. When I got back to work today, I took my coat off and I realized that my pants were unzipped and unbuttoned! And these are pants that are too big on me (I made the mistake of buying a few new items when I was still losing my weight from my last pregnancy, thinking I had plateaued, when in reality I had some pounds to go), so they could have fallen right off.
What happened was the hubby had just changed Elise and she was enjoying some nakey time and she happened to pee in the bathroom, and after I went, I stepped in the puddle. So, of course, I cleaned it up and changed my socks and washed my hands, never thinking to button my pants. OMG.
Good thing I have my own office. I just put my back to the door and quickly fixed my pants -- good thing nobody walked by or I would have some 'splaining to do!!!
What happened was the hubby had just changed Elise and she was enjoying some nakey time and she happened to pee in the bathroom, and after I went, I stepped in the puddle. So, of course, I cleaned it up and changed my socks and washed my hands, never thinking to button my pants. OMG.
Good thing I have my own office. I just put my back to the door and quickly fixed my pants -- good thing nobody walked by or I would have some 'splaining to do!!!
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