Flame-Free Friday!

*sigh*  Yesterday was Halloween and I'm exhausted!  Bailey was so keyed up that she didn't get to bed until super late (what else is new?) and Gerry has been going through some sleep regression, so he was up about 3 times.  I need sleep!  So I'm just going to jump right into my "confessions"...after these pictures from last night's Halloween festivities.

Superman

Wonder Woman

******************************************************************

Okay.  Moving on.  I confess...

...that I exacted revenge on a child.  Last week we met friends for a play date at the mall's play place.  As is typical for a Friday night, the play place was crowded, and there were a couple of rowdy older kids playing roughly amid all the little ones.  The kids were about 8 or 9, bigger, louder, and rougher than the rest of the group, and their parents either weren't there or didn't care that their little hooligans were terrorizing a play area geared toward much younger kids.  Anyway, I was sitting on a bench chatting with a friend and watching Bailey and her buddy play out of the corner of my eye, and watched these big kids plow into her and knock her flat on her ass a good 4 or 5 times.  Each time, she just got right back up and kept on playing with her friend, fairly unbothered by it all, so I didn't draw any extra attention to it.  Instead, I kept on sipping my coffee and chatting with my friend's husband...and waiting.  I saw the big kid running over from my right, so --quickly and without breaking conversation-- I stuck my foot out and tripped the kid.  He went down hard, a few of the other kids laughed, and I pretended like I didn't even see it.  He ran out of the play place, and we didn't see him again the rest of the night.  I don't condone "violence" or embarrassing others, but I'd do it again if I had to.  I hate punk kids ruining the fun for everyone else.  

...that Gerry peed through his pajamas in the middle of the night last week, and I just threw a clean blanket over it and went back to sleep.  It was roughly 2:45am, I had been up an hour earlier with Bailey, and I just didn't feel like spending the extra 10 minutes changing the sheets in his crib.  So I changed him into clean jammies, threw a thick blanket over the wet sheets, and put him back to sleep.  (I did change and wash all the sheets the next day).

...that I told Bailey she could only eat one piece of her Halloween candy last night, then when she went to bed I ate 6 fun-size candy bars.  I guess I owe her some chocolate.

...that Gerry almost fell down a flight of stairs because I wasn't paying attention.  It's been awhile since I had to keep a close eye on Bailey and the stairs, and I just spaced.  The basement door was wide open and I just happened to catch a glimpse of Gerry, arms and torso hanging over the top step, out of the corner of my eye.  I dove and grabbed his foot just as he was about to go tumbling down, and he just giggled like it was the most fun he's had in all his life...like a possible broken neck was just a game.  I forgot how fast he can drag himself places these days.

...that I went to the store the other day for a few Halloween treats for the kids and ended up buying a book for myself.  We really didn't have the extra money for me to spend, and I have about 64,000 books on the Kindle...but I wanted that book and so I impulse-bought it before I could talk myself out of it.  Along with a new lipstick.  

...that we all went to a Halloween costume party last weekend and I agreed to dress up as Jenny Matrix from Commando (Scott went as Arnold) for the sole purpose that the costume required very little effort and was comfortable.  I didn't have to stress about looking fat in my costume (I wore overalls and goofy sneakers), I didn't have to wear special makeup, and I could just let my hair air-dry after a shower instead of spending time blow-drying and flat-ironing the hell out of it.  Best costume I've worn yet.  

Isagenix Mini-Reveal

Scott and I have been on Isagenix for about 5 months now, and we're seeing some fantastic results that I thought maybe I ought to work up the courage to share with all of you.  I'll start with Scott since he's had incredible results...

Scott has lost more than 102 lbs since starting Isagenix back in May.  He's been 100% faithful to the program, and has combined healthy eating plus the Insanity workout program...and he looks amazing.  I am ridiculously proud of him, and I admire the hell out of his determination and willpower.  I'll admit that, when we first started, I was skeptical.  I didn't think it would "work" and I definitely didn't think that he or I would stick with it long enough to see anything worthwhile.  But we did...and look how great he looks!

What a difference!

Okay, my turn.  I haven't lost nearly as much weight as Scott has, but I attribute that to the fact that (1) I'm a woman, (2) I haven't been quite as faithful to the program as Scott has been, and (3) I haven't been able to exercise at all because of my back issues.  But whenever I start feeling discouraged, Scott is quick to remind me that I am seeing results.  I've lost more than 30 lbs in just 5 months.  I've lost all of my second pregnancy weight and then some, and am just 4 lbs away from my pre-pregnancy weight (not just with Gerry, but with Bailey, too!).  I'd still like to lose 15-20 more pounds, but I'm not going to complain about where I'm at right now.

Okay...so here's my "before" and "current"... (*deep, cleansing breath*)...here goes nothing.

Wow, that dirty mirror is embarrassing...

We're still going strong, and we're feeling good!  Scott is much, much better about it than I am, but we'll both continue taking pictures as we get to our goals.  If you need that extra push or want information about Isagenix and it's uses, please don't hesitate to email me...it really works!

What Being a Mom Looks Like....Blogging With a Purpose

Pre-motherhood, I had all these visions in my head of what my life would look like with children in it.  I'd be the "cool" mom.  The one who got her body back right away...the one whose kid was dressed in an adorable outfit every single day...the mom who had it all together...the one who juggled work, husband, child, life with seemingly no difficulty.  Little did I know that, for the first 6-8 months of motherhood, my life would be pretty much the exact opposite of my naive little vision.  But then it got better.  So much better.  And easier.  And more fun.  I figured it out and, while I may not be the "perfect" mom that I envisioned before actually having kids, I think that what I am works.  Being a mom is an incredible thing.  It's scary and nerve-wracking and all-consuming and downright lovely at times. 

Being a mom looks like...

...fatigue.  There's tired, then there's exhausted, then there's I-have-a-baby-and-have-been-up-since-2am-changing-diapers-and-feeding-and-rocking-and-patting-and-I'm-unable-to-function-in-normal-society.  Back in college, all-nighters were no big deal.  Sometimes, I even felt "cool" if I stayed up all night.  I bragged about my "adventures" while drinking my coffee and then clocked in a full day of work and/or classes.  Rinse and repeat...it was a breeze.  But nothing...nothing...could have prepared me for the sheer exhaustion of having a baby.  Bailey didn't sleep more than 4 hours a night until she was 10 months old, and even then she only gave us 5.  6 max.  She's still not a great sleeper (last night she fought sleep until after 11).  Never have I been more tired than those first few months with her.  Gerry, even though he's an awesome sleeper now, was up pretty much every hour throughout the night for the first few weeks.  It's lonely and draining, but it does get better.

Caffeine...every mother's BFF

...worry.  Almost constant worry.  Am I feeding her too much?  Am I feeding her enough?  Will I ruin her life and kill all her brain cells if I stop breastfeeding?  Will I turn him into a mama's boy if I breastfeed for too long?  Is my kid as smart as other kids her age?  As outgoing?  As funny?  On par developmentally?  I feel motherhood is a constant cycle of worry, worry, worry.  I'm always second-guessing myself when it comes to my kids.  Really, all they need is love, guidance, and praise...but there's always that little worried voice nagging in the back of my mind:  Am I doing this right?

...constant companionship.  Bailey was born 3 years ago and I haven't had a moment to myself since.  99% of the time, I love it.  I remember when she was an itty bitty baby, I used to tote her around with me everywhere.  To the grocery store, to Starbucks, to the library, the mall.  I loved having her with me, and I felt a special kind of pride whenever I went out with her.  As she got older, she still came with me everywhere, although more often than not it was because she cried so hard whenever I attempted to sneak away that I caved pretty much immediately and packed her up to tag along with me.  Same thing with Gerry after he was born.  I used to wear him in my Moby wrap and he came everywhere with me, and I liked it that way.  My kids are my life, two of my very favorite people in this world, and I enjoy spending all of my time with them.  But there are some times where, much as you love them, you just want to lock your darling children in another room just to get a few minutes alone.  I love my children...but I haven't gone to the bathroom alone in more than 3 years.  Seriously.  One of them is always there.  I love having a little buddy, though.  Not necessarily while I'm showering--but just about every other time.

True story

...fewer (and quicker) showers.  The first few weeks after Bailey was born, I could not get my act together.  My emotions were all over the place and I bounced around between feelings of elation (look at this beautiful creature I created!), fear (holy shit, she's awake again...don't make eye contact, DON'T MAKE EYE CONTACT!), and supreme fatigue.  I was so busy in mommy mode that there were quite a few days when I looked down at myself at 3 in the afternoon and realized that, not only was I still in my pajamas, but I also hadn't brushed my hair...and, OMG, is that spit up on my shirt?!  The first few weeks (hell, the first few months) of motherhood are so overwhelming and you're so focused on meeting the needs of your baby that it's easy to overlook the basic care for yourself. 

...a juggling act.    A mom wears SO many hats...wife, mother, nurse, cook, disciplinarian, employee.  It's hard, sometimes, to keep up with everything and it's easy to feel like you're not good enough to be able to do it all.

You got this, mom!

...a messy house.   I was never the neatest person to begin with.  But since having kids?  All semblance of order and tidiness went straight out the window.  Kids are messy, there's no getting around it, but that's not really why my house is never pristine.  It's because I don't want to waste my time deep-cleaning and organizing every room in my house when I could be spending that time with my children.  The other day, I had a load of laundry sitting out waiting to be folded, a sink full of dishes to be washed, and the bathroom was in serious need of a good cleaning.  In the middle of my scurrying around, I hear Bailey ask me in her tiny little voice, "Mama?  Want to build a tower with me?"  And my first instinct was to put her off, to tell her I'd come and build a tower with her after I finished all my cleaning.  Instead, I abandoned the laundry and the dishes and chose to overlook my messy bathroom, and I sat down and I built tower after tower and castle after castle with my daughter.  And I had a blast.  Turns out she's a pretty good tower-builder.  And she thinks I'm pretty awesome, too.  She stopped mid-tower a few times, looked at me and said, "I love you, Mommy.  You're my best friend ever!" and my heart melted.  See what I would have missed out on if I'd opted to spend my time cleaning rather than with her?

 

...unconditional love, endless giggles, and a happiness you never knew you could have.  In between all those sleepless nights, the worry, the tantrums, and the mess is the most incredible feeling of awe.  Awe at the teeny little person you created, awe at all of the amazing things they can do, awe that you could ever love someone so much or feel so much pride in another human being.  It makes everything else simply disappear. 

Gerry: 9 Months Old

Gerry is 9 months old today, and what an amazing 9 months it's been!  I absolutely adore this boy, and I feel so lucky that I get to be his mommy.  He's got this amazing personality now and he's full of laughs and giggles, and I die from the cuteness of it all every single day.

No stats on weight or height just yet, but I'll update after his next doctor's appointment.  He's solid, though, I will say that!  He's still a great eater and has always been a good sleeper, although he's been waking up sometime between 2 and 5am to eat for the last few weeks.

He's started to roll around a lot, which means that he does that instead of going to sleep right away, both at bedtime and for nap time.  I constantly find him like this on the video monitor:

Just laying there, staring at the camera.  He scoots and rolls all over the crib before finally dozing off.  And the noise!  I swear, this boy has no concept of quiet.  He does this screech thing that reminds Scott and me of a trapped pterodactyl-- not out of anger or distress, but simply because he can.  And it's loud.  But he's happy!

His total inability to keep still has finally resulted in him "crawling".  It's more like scooting across the floor using sheer upper body strength...but he still gets to where he wants to go!  And now that he can, nothing and no one is safe.  It's time to seriously baby-proof the house.

He's also got this goofy, Woody Woodpecker-type laugh these days, and I find it absolutely adorable.  He thinks just about everything is funny, so we're treated to his little giggles on a regular basis.

And, as always, he and Bailey are best buds.  She's so different with him than she is with other kids, and even with herself.  The other day, she was building a tower with Legos and it kept falling over.  She freaked out every time, yelling out loud and smacking her hands on the floor.  But when Gerry scooted over and knocked her tower over?  In a soft crooning voice:  "Aww, it's okay, Handsome.  Accidents happen."  I love seeing their faces light up when they see each other, and I love how they interact together, especially now that Gerry's got more mobility and more of a personality.

I say this every day, and I'll continue to say it:  I am so lucky.  So lucky that I get to be their mommy.  So lucky that they're mine and that they love each other.  So lucky that I have two happy kids.  They are pure bliss wrapped up in two adorably small packages, and I love watching them grow.

Making funny faces!

Our Week In Review

My last few posts have been nothing but Blogging With a Purpose, which I love, but I feel like I'm kind of neglecting the "original" theme of this blog, which is tracking our daily lives.  I still have a few BWAPs to catch up on, but for now I want to share some "family-oriented" things.

Bailey drew a picture of me the other day, and I almost cried at how wonderful it was.  In typical toddler fashion, it's pretty much just a big head with giant eyes and 2 sticks poking out from underneath...but it's hers.  Six months ago...hell, two months ago...she was still just making scribbles and random lines on her paper so when she said, "Look, Mommy, I made a picture of you!" I was expecting more of the same-- a line or four on her paper...maybe a squiggle or a circle here and there.  Imagine my surprise when I looked down and saw what resembled an actual person!  I squealed.  Literally.  I was shocked and she was so proud of herself.  Now, I know she's no Van Gogh, but she's my little artist, and I'm ridiculously proud of her.  Right now her masterpiece is hanging on the fridge, but I'm going to take it a step further and frame it.  I know, I know...but it's happening.

We celebrated Scott's 31st birthday on Friday (and Saturday and Sunday).  My mom and dad watched the kids so he and I could go out to dinner, and we had a great time.  We brought home a small dessert, lit a few candles and sang Happy Birthday to him...and, of course, Bailey blew out the candles.  Then Saturday, we went to lunch with Scott's parents, and Sunday was dinner with my side of the family.  So, more cake...not that I'm complaining!

Speaking of Scott...

He's lost 90lbs since starting Isagenix in May.  90lbs!  I still can't get over how awesome he's doing.  He pretty much needs a whole new wardrobe since all his old clothes are hanging off of him now.  He's healthier and happier and I'm so incredibly proud of him.  It's not easy to do, but he's sticking with it and also doing the Insanity program...all while working, coaching and helping to raise two kids.  He amazes me.  <3

Gerry is close to crawling these days.  He's pulling himself up on his arms and kicking his legs, but he doesn't quite have the hang of getting up on his knees yet.  He'll get there, but in the meantime I'm just enjoying watching him figure out all the ways his body can move and do things.

He's mastered clapping:

But dressing him in Redskins gear hasn't helped the team...

And me?  Well, I'm happy to say that I've lost almost 60lbs since Gerry was born.  I've still got 15 to go to get to my "goal weight", but I'm not complaining!

I Said I Would Never....

This week's Blogging With a Purpose, I'll admit, was humbling for me.  I distinctly remember working in a daycare center after college and saying to my co-workers numerous times, "I will never..."in response to something idiotic a parent did to or with or in front of their kid.  I can remember one winter morning when I was teaching preschool in that same center, I got a phone call from the parent of one of my 3-year-old students that went like this:

Parent:  (frantic) Jess!  L is dead set on wearing a dress to school today, but she's freaking out and refuses to wear tights with the dress and it's freezing out.  What should I do?

Me:  Just pack her up, throw a pair of tights in her backpack, and bring her on in.  I'll make sure she wears the tights.

Parent:  (big sigh)  Thanks, Jess.  I don't know what her deal is this morning.

I hung up the phone, rolled my eyes, and wondered how in the world this woman was letting her 3-year-old get away with being the boss.  Fast forward four years, and now I totally get it.  Before I had kids of my own, there were a million and one things I swore I would never do.  I'm embarrassed to admit that I was downright smug when it came to parenting -- before I came a parent myself.  Back then, I said I would never...

...force my kid to take a nap if she didn't want to.  It's laughable how naive I was before having kids.  Of course I'm going to make my kid take a nap!  (At the very least, she has to have at least an hour of"quiet time" in her bedroom after lunch)  It's the only break I get all day and we both need it.  On days when she doesn't nap, Bailey is a little monster by 5pm.  And then, of course, she's so over-tired that she won't sleep at night, and it's a vicious cycle of grumpiness.  Lesson learned.  Naps are good.

... "wear" my baby.  I love my children, but who wants a baby strapped to their chest all the time, right?  I thought it was kind of weird, and would probably be uncomfortable.  Until I tried it...and fell in love.  There's something so wonderful about the weight of your baby as he snuggles up and falls asleep on your chest.  Not to mention the fact that the baby loves it, and it promotes that bonding experience between mother and child.  I wish I had known better when Bailey was a baby.  Luckily, I got a clue by the time Gerry was born.  I love, love, loved wearing him in my Moby wrap and was so sad when he started to outgrow it before I was ready.

...give in to my kids' temper tantrums.  Well, this went out the window pretty quickly.  I learned right away that it was much easier to discipline other kids than it was to discipline my own.  I swear it has something to do with the fact that they're biologically mine.  It makes me physically ache when my kids cry or are sad...I don't feel the same sense of  "detachment"  in my children's tantrum situations that I do with kids who aren't mine.  Does that make any sense?  I have an easier time saying no when it's not my kid.  Anyway, Bailey was {and still is} the QUEEN of the temper tantrum.  She's made it an art form, and she can go from calm to crazy psycho child in a matter of seconds with little to no warning.  I've learned to pick my battles with her.  You want a popsicle?  You have to eat dinner first.  Oh, no...don't start crying....no, don't throw yourself on the floor...please stop screaming...okay, fine.  Have a popsicle, but don't tell daddy.

... "spank" my kids.  And I never have.  I feel very strongly that there are much better ways to discipline a child, and that spanking a child only teaches him or her that it's okay to do.  And, in my opinion, it's not.


...enroll my daughter in dance class.  I'm not a girly-girl, and always thought that my daughter would play sports.  When I was pregnant with Bailey, Scott and I both swore that we'd never paint her room pink and that we'd urge her to play sports when she hit the right age.  "No ballerinas for us!" I said.  Joke's on me, I guess, because at 3-years-old my daughter's favorite color is pink, she wants to be a princess for Halloween, and she insisted on taking dance classes this year. 

That's Bailey in the middle...in the pink top and black tights with leg warmers

...let my kid have a pacifier past the age of 1.  I'm hanging my head in shame because we're still battling with Bailey to ditch the bink...and she's 3.

...do something like this to my kids:

...let a day go by without telling my kids that I love them.  To the moon and back.  And I haven't. 

Next Week's Topic:  What Being a Mom Looks Like

Blogging With a Purpose: 10 Survival Tips For the Expecting Mom

The first time I found out I was pregnant, back in 2009, I was scared and thrilled and thought that, surely, being pregnant wasn't going to cramp my style.  I was going to keep wearing my heels and getting my nails done and I wasn't going to let pregnancy change me.  I was about 5 weeks along when we found out, and those lasted until about week 7, at which point first trimester fatigue hit me with the force of a speeding Mack truck and I had zero desire to do any sort of upkeep on myself.

I remember how for months everyone and their mother kept giving me tips and advice for surviving pregnancy, both solicited and not.  Sleep now, because you're not going to once that baby gets here!  Try primrose oil/walking/jumping jacks/lots of sex to get labor started once you're near your due date.  Don't pick a name that's too trendy.  Don't pick a name that's not trendy enough.  The list goes on and on.  So, for this week's blogging with a purpose, here are my own tips (in no particular order) for all of you expectant mothers:


1.  Take any and all advice with a grain of salt.  Seriously.  Most people have nothing but the best intentions when they offer a suggestion, but don't feel like you have to adhere to everyone's rules for pregnancy.  This is your experience. 

2.  Take lots of belly photos.   One of my biggest regrets from my first pregnancy was that I took, maybe, a total of 6 pictures the whole time I was pregnant.  And those were just ones that I happened to be in, not ones that were specifically for showing off my baby bump.  Strut that bump proudly, mamas!  Take at least one picture every 4 weeks.  And don't forget to label them so you know the date and how far along you were in each of them.  I LOVE looking back at all the belly pictures I took during my second pregnancy, and I so wish that I had thought to do it with my first.  There's something so sweet and awe-inspiring about seeing your belly grow and knowing that your baby is in there just waiting to be born.

3.  Sleep when you're tired.  Everyone always says this and, after my first was born, it used to annoy me whenever someone said it.  How am I supposed to sleep when I've got this sweet, adorable, little miracle that I can look at and hold whenever I want to?  I never slept when my babies slept.  Never.  But when I was pregnant?  You better believe I did!  With both of my pregnancies, I was so exhausted in the first trimester that I used to fall asleep in the middle of the day and was out cold for the night by 8pm.  In fact, that familiar feeling of exhaustion was what clued me in to the fact that I was, indeed, pregnant the second time around.  It gets better in the 2nd trimester, but then that old familiar friend comes back again in the 3rd trimester.  Don't fight it...sleep!  It's hard work growing a baby.  If this is your first pregnancy you should have no problem just passing out whenever (and wherever) you want.  If you've got other kids, though, don't feel guilty about letting your partner take over the nighttime duties so you can get some extra rest.

4. Don't stress about getting everything done.  The first time around, I made sure that all baby clothes were washed and put away and that the nursery was all set and ready to go by the time I was about 21 weeks along.  I stressed myself and Scott out for weeks because I wanted it done before the baby came and you know what?  She didn't spend more than 3 minutes at a time in there until she was 5 months old.  Everything will come together and things will get done, so don't waste precious time worrying about it.  And if the baby's room isn't finished before he or she gets here?  No big deal.  All they need, really, is a bassinet or a pack-and-play to sleep in, and you're good to go.  You'll have plenty of time to sweat the small stuff after the baby is born.

5.  Don't let other people's opinions influence you.  When it comes to choosing your baby's name, your nursery colors or theme, how you plan to give birth, how you plan to feed your baby...everyone has an opinion about everything.  Think about what you want to do and how you want to raise your child, and do that.  Scott and I had decided on a name for our son before we had even gotten married, so when we found out that our second baby was a boy we were good to go.  But when people inevitably asked what we were planning to name him and we told them, we got a lot of mixed responses.  "But that's such an old man name."  "Are you really going to spell it with a 'G'?"  and "People are going to think you named him after the guy you were obsessed with in high school."  But Scott and I were steadfast in our decision because the name we chose for our son had special meaning to us.  For the record, his name is Gerald Anthony, and we call him Gerry.  Yes, it sounds like an "old man" name because it IS the name of two older men.  We named him after Scott's grandfather, Gerald, and my grandfather, Anthony.  Two strong men.  Two "family" men.  Two men that we loved and respected.  There was never a question in either of our minds that the name we chose was The One.  And you know something?  It fits our son perfectly.

6.  Throw your birth plan out the window.  A friend of mine is a labor and delivery nurse and she put it to me this way:  9 times out of 10, when a woman comes in with a birth plan, nothing goes according to her plan.  Every pregnancy is different and every labor is different.  With my first, I went into labor on my own the morning before my scheduled induction.  I was 6 cm when we got to the hospital, I got my epidural fairly quickly, felt little to no pain, pushed for 25 minutes, and had a wonderful birth experience.  Everything went smoothly, and I felt so proud and so powerful afterward.  I loved everything about it.  Everything.  The 2nd time around, though, was a bit of a nightmare.  I was induced 9 days past my due date and was expecting an even easier time of it, since I had done it once before.  This time, though, because of the medication used to induce, I didn't have any time to really realize and understand that Okay, this is it, I'm in labor.  In the space of less than an hour, I went from feeling nothing at all to having strong contractions one on top of the other with no break in between.  My epidural failed, and I essentially gave birth with no pain meds.  Because a failed epidural wasn't part of my "plan", and because I really didn't have time to think about the fact that I was going to give birth without any sort of aid to help with the pain, I freaked out a little bit.  I remember at one point just falling back onto the pillow, exhausted,  and saying, "I can't do it anymore.  I'm done."  (side note:  Just because you say you're done does not mean that your baby is going to listen to you and just come on out...you still have work to do).  Had I known beforehand that the epidural wasn't going to take, I could have prepared myself better and probably would have enjoyed the experience more.  I still only pushed for a little more than 20 minutes, but it was by far the most exhausting and most painful thing I've ever done.  The phrase "Plan for the worst and hope for the best" is a good one to abide by in this case

7.  Spend lots of one-on-one time with your husband before the baby is born.  Having a baby changes so many aspects of your life and, in my case, my marriage was the biggest change.  Once the baby was born, I had a hard time taking off my "Mommy" hat and putting on my "Wife" hat and, as a result, my marriage was neglected for awhile.  I spent, literally, all of my time and energy on focusing on my baby that I failed to realize that Scott needed some attention, too.  In the midst of all the craziness of being a new parent those first few weeks, though, I often thought about our last week together before our first baby was born.  And I still think about it.  Scott was on summer break and I started my maternity leave a few days before my due date.  Bailey, of course, came 6 days late, so Scott and I got a good week together without work or any other commitments getting in the way.  We spent those few days lounging around the house, taking walks, going to the movies, and talking about what we thought it was going to be like with a baby in the house.  Together.  That week was the last time that we only had to worry about ourselves.  The last time we got to be really selfish and do what we wanted to do.  The last time that it was "just us".  I will always remember those few days and I highly recommend every couple take a few days to just be with each other, with no distractions, before that baby comes.

8.  Have a "worst case scenario" plan in place.  This is something that no one wants to think about, especially when you're preparing to bring a new life into the world, but make sure that you have a plan in place in case, God forbid, something should happen to you or to the baby during delivery.  Scott knows all the important medical stuff about me and I made sure that he knew exactly how I felt about things and I wanted to be done if, by some horrible twist of fate, something awful were to happen to me or the baby or both of us.  I took it a step further and packed a giant index card on the very top of my hospital bag with all of my important medical information, birth date, "in case of emergency" wishes, and anything else I wanted my medical team to know about me and what I wanted for myself and my baby should an emergency arise.  I also made sure that I wrote that,' in the event that I am unable to make a conscious and coherent decision regarding my labor and delivery, I give full permission for my husband and my mother to make any and all medical decisions pertaining to my health and the health of my baby on my behalf'.  Odds are that you'll never need to use your "worst case scenario plan", but it always makes me feel better to have something in place.  Especially now that I've got children to worry about.

9.  Keep track of all those important pregnancy milestones.  There is nothing...NOTHING...better than feeling that first kick from your baby.  Hearing his or her heartbeat, seeing him or her in an ultrasound, baby hiccups, the rolls and tiny movements from your baby while "on the inside", finding out your baby's gender, buying his or her "coming home" outfit, your baby shower...there are so many important milestones during your pregnancy that it can be easy to forget things like dates and whatnot after the fact.  So write it down!  Keep a journal or a blog, set a note in your phone.  Take pictures when things happen.  Document the little and the big things that happen throughout your pregnancy, right up til the end.  It will be one of your very favorite things to have and to look back at after your baby is born. 

10.  Enjoy every single second of your pregnancy.  Even when you're so tired you can barely stay awake throughout the day.  Even when you're nauseous.  Even when (especially when) your baby is kicking the hell out of you and it feels like he's about to crack a rib or two.  I was in pain for most of my 2nd pregnancy, thanks to SPD and the fact that Gerry kicked like a soccer star and bounced around like a ninja on speed from very early on.  By the time I hit 40 weeks, I was just done.  I was ready to meet my little man, ready to be able to take a deep breath and to sleep comfortable again...I was just ready.  But when it was all said and done, and I was finally holding my son in my arms...I missed it.  I missed feeling him kicking like a lunatic.  I missed the big belly, and the hiccups.  I missed talking to my belly every day, and I missed the feeling that he and I were so incredibly connected.  I missed it.  So take the time to enjoy pregnancy, even if you're not feeling 100%.  You might just regret it if you don't. 

A Few Funnies...

Just had to share a few of the funny pictures and videos I took over the last few weeks because they made me smile!  :-)

 

The other day I kept trying to be stealthy and take a picture of Scott while he was playing his video game.  Why, you ask?  Because the man was standing about a foot away from the television while he played Madden.  Like a 6 year old.  Like it was going to help him play better if he stood closer to the tv.  As soon as he realized what I was up to he stopped.  I, on the other hand, continued to hound him relentlessly for a picture, and managed to snap this gem as he walked to the kitchen.

The most important thing about this photo is not the fact that Gerry is wearing reindeer antlers.  With bells on them, no less.  The important thing is the look on his face.  Like he feels completely idiotic for being made to wear a headband, thanks to his sister and his cousin, but also that he's resigned to the fact.  Let's face it...the kid is the only boy amid a house full of girls every day.  He should be thankful that they didn't put a sparkly pink princess tiara on his head. 

The other day we had to go clothes shopping for Scott (because he's lost almost 100lbs. in the last few months and nothing fits him anymore) and Bailey made the most of our excursion.  Did you notice that she was attempting to do the Gangnam Style dance?  Nothing' like a little fun while you're out shopping!

My Goals For Motherhood: Blogging With a Purpose

Things have been so busy around here lately that I haven't had time to sit down and devote much effort to the blog, so expect about a hundred posts all at once...I have a lot to catch up on!

The topic for today's Blogging With a Purpose is "My Goals For Motherhood".  If someone had asked me before I had kids, my goals would probably have been fairly superficial.  Raise my kids to be decent people...Retain some semblance of MILF status (don't laugh...these were my goals before having kids)...Dress my kids in cute clothes at all times...yadda, yadda, yadda.  Since having kids, though, my goals have changed (I'd like to think for the better).  Now, my most important goals for motherhood are...

...to teach my children respect.  For themselves and for others.  This one's kind of a no-brainer.  I was raised to show respect, and I expect my kids to do the same.  We work on manners with them very early, and more often than not Bailey will say "please" and "thank you" without being prompted.  That's not to say that she's got it down pat...we still work on both teaching and showing respect every single day.  My hope is that, by seeing Scott's and my behavior toward others and toward each other, that our children will grow up to be respectful individuals by nature. 

...to show my children what a healthy, loving relationship is.  Growing up, my parents weren't ones for public displays of affection.  I know that they both love me and my siblings, but it wasn't often spoken in our house and I can count on one hand the number of times I've actually witnessed an affectionate moment between my parents.  Scott is a much more outwardly affectionate person than I am.  It took me awhile to be comfortable hugging and/or kissing him in public, and I think we were both surprised at how the other approached it.  Since Bailey and Gerry were born, we've worked hard to show them what a loving relationship looks like.  We tell them that we love them every single day, that we're proud of them, and that they make us happy.  We give them hugs and kisses like it's going out of style.  And we also make sure to tell each other, in the presence of our children, that we love each other.  Bailey and Gerry have witnessed many a loving moment between Scott and me, and our hope is that they grow up to appreciate and to honor their own relationships.

...to teach my kids to love and respect their bodies.  There is so much more to this than just realizing and discovering their bodies.  I want them to love their body for what it can do and not for how it looks.  As she gets older, I want Bailey to look in the mirror and appreciate the way her limbs move when she dances or how her hands work together with the rest of her body when she plays an instrument or throws a ball.  I do not want her to focus on the few extra pounds she may be carrying or the stretch marks that may appear.  When Gerry looks in the mirror, I want him to appreciate the strength in those legs he likes to kick so much these days or how well the different parts of his body work together to enable him to do the things he loves to do, whether it be playing sports or an instrument, or simply drawing or painting.  I do not want him to only appreciate his body for the muscles he may or may not have.  I want my children to know that they are more than just bodies.  Thin or not, muscular or not, tall or not, they are people and they are loved.

...to be present as my children grow up.  I don't think there's a mother on Earth who has children with the sole purpose of ignoring them once they're born.  One of the goals that is most important to me is to be there as my children grow.  In this age of technology, it's easy to get distracted by the internet or our cell phones or Twitter/Facebook, and it breaks my heart when I see other parents miss out on some of the amazing things their kids do because they had their noses buried in their iPhone.  I'll admit that I'm guilty of letting technology consume me at times, but I make a very concentrated effort to put away my phone when I'm with my kids.  Sure, I may be on the computer when we're at home and they're playing quietly with toys.  But I never let technology keep me from my kids when they need or want me.  I'm home with them all day every day, a decision and a choice that I've never regretted making, and I love the fact that I'm there for it all.  I want to be there for every athletic event, every art show, every poetry reading, every concert, every thing that they do, for as long as they'll let me.  I want them to know that I'm interested and focused on them, and that I support them.  When they grow up, I want them to remember that mom was always there.

...to give my children a healthy sense of self.  Scott and I have created some damn adorable children together; people are always commenting on how pretty Bailey's eyes are or what a great smile Gerry has, and how they both should have been Gerber babies.  I'm proud and happy that other people think they're as beautiful as I do, but I want them to know that they are SO much more than just pretty faces.  They're smart and strong and creative and funny and fascinating, and I don't ever want them to think that their worth is wrapped up solely in their looks.  They are so much more than that, and I want them to know and to appreciate that as they get older.

...to show my children that I love them every day.  Bailey is 3 now, and we've had many, many days where we were both just "done" by bedtime.  We've pushed each other's buttons, we've raised our voices a time or two, and we've been disappointed and angry with each other on occasion.  I suspect that it'll be much of the same with Gerry as he hits those difficult toddler years.  But no matter how angry they're made me or how frazzled I've been, I always -- ALWAYS-- make a point to tell my children that I love them.  Every day.  A million times a day.  Even after Bailey has screamed and thrown a tantrum and I've banished her to her room for a timeout...I always tell her that I love her.  Even after all that.  Especially after all that.  Because I want them to know that no matter how angry or sad or disappointed I may get, I will always love them.  No matter what.  There is nothing they can do that will make me stop loving them.  Nothing.  One of my happiest moments of motherhood so far has been Bailey saying that she loves me.  After a temper tantrum, when she's happy, when she's sad, and for no reason at all.  Hearing those words from her, unprompted, makes me happy in a way that I never expected.  And I know that she knows that I love her, too.  When I say it, and when I show it. 

Gerry: 8 Months Old

Time is just flying by these days...Gerry is already 8 months old.  How did this happen?  Just yesterday, I was going to the hospital and now he's almost a year old?! 

He's still just amazing, and every day I'm thankful for him.  For his sunny and sweet disposition, his little giggle, the ginormous smile I get every time he sees me.  He's fighting an Upper Respiratory Infection and teething right now, and he's STILL just smiling away.  I'm in awe of what a happy little guy he is.

Personality:  calm and happy; nothing brings him down.

Nicknames:  Tank (Bailey hates this one, and refuses to call him Tank), Handsome Man, Little Man

Likes:  Mommy, Daddy, Bailey; Cheerios, Ice Cream, Fruit; Peek-a-boo; Splashing in the bath tub; Mickey Mouse; Anything that makes noise; Remotes; Kicking his feet; Being tickled.

Dislikes:  Not being able to crawl and, therefore, being stuck scooching around in circles on his belly.

New Skills:  Working on drinking from a sippy cup; Perfecting his pincer grasp; Scooching around on his belly (usually backwards and in circles) to get places; Raising himself up on his arms.  Not quite crawling yet.

Sleep:  Still getting a good 10-12 hours per night, but he wakes up once now, usually around 2:30am.  Takes a small bottle and goes right back to sleep(7pm - about 7am).

Before we know it, we'll be planning his first birthday party...crazy!