My Favorite Time Of Day

...is bedtime.  And not for the reason you're thinking, although there is something so freeing about putting the kids to bed and finally getting some time to myself before I pass out.  Bedtime is my favorite time of day because it's the one time where I can focus on each of my children individually and with 100% of my attention.  I'm not worrying about cleaning up any messes, or trying to feed them both or get them both in jammies.  The tough part is over and now I can enjoy "us" time with Bailey and Gerry.

Gerry usually goes first.  While Scott and Bailey spend some time together watching a show or playing with toys or whatever it is they do when I'm not around, Gerry and I snuggle up with a blanket and a bottle.  And we just stare at each other.  I talk softly to him about everything and nothing and he just stares up at me with sleepy eyes.  Sometimes he stops drinking and smiles up at me, this slow and tired smile, and I just melt.  Not even five months old and he's already got me wrapped around his finger.  The whole time we're snuggled up there, he's squeezing my finger every few seconds, or pulling the blanket to his cheek and it's so adorable that I can't help but be happy, no matter how crazy or crappy my day was.  I put all my attention and all my focus on this time with my little boy, and I block out everything else.  And it's wonderful. 

When it's Bailey's turn, things aren't always quite so peaceful...but it's still awesome.  I snuggle up in her bed with her and we read a few books.  I turn on her lullaby CD and we sing a lullaby of our own and then play "What are you going to dream about?"  9 times out of 10, Bailey says she's going to dream about ice cream or squirting somebody with a water gun.  But every once in awhile she surprises me and says, "I'm gonna dream 'bout you, Mommy.  You're my best friend ever."  Heart...melted.  And then, without fail, she busts out her sweetest voice and says, "Mommy?  You lay down with me for just oooonnne minute?"  Which, of course, I can't say no to.  So we crawl under the covers and get nice and comfy...and then she says, "Mommy?  Can I lay on you hands?", which means she wants to lay, literally, on top of my arm, with my other arm on top of her.  So I open my arms and she burrows in, and I rub her hair softly for a few minutes.  More often than not, we both doze off like that.  A little while later, I get up, readjust her comforter, whisper that I love her, and tiptoe out of her room.  And then Scott and I get some time together while the little ones are asleep.

Then when we wake up in the morning, it's go-go-go and things are always crazy and hectic.  Gerry is usually super happy and chatty, but sometimes he cries if he's hungry and I'm taking too long.  The daycare kids argue with each other, attempt to break all the rules, and give me a few new gray hairs.  Bailey has at least one meltdown these days, and has learned the art of "talking back", which hasn't been fun.  My time is spent trying to keep the house somewhat clean, wrangling all the kids, preparing meals, and generally dividing myself between 6-7 kids at any given time.  But I always, always have that precious time with my own two kids at night.  It is my absolute best and most favorite time of day, any day.  And I wouldn't trade it for anything.

Long Time No Update

Honestly, there hasn't been too much going on over here.  A lot of the same old, same old.

Gerry finally finished up Leap 4 of the Wonder Weeks, we're finally getting some much-needed sleep!  He's sleeping anywhere from 10-12 hours each night, as well as taking two really good naps during the day.  Hallelujah!  This last leap lasted a little over a month for us...about 5 weeks of waking up every 1.5-3 hours every single night.  To say it was hellish is a bit of an understatement.  BUT, he's come pretty far since this leap!  He's sitting up a bit better (not on his own yet, but he'll get there), he's discovered his feet and he grabs
at toys and other objects with both hands.  He's able to roll from belly to back (though, he doesn't do it often) and can roll about halfway from back to belly.  He's also "scooching" now.  I left him on his belly on the floor yesterday, facing the tv,  to throw away a diaper.  I got distracted in the kitchen and came back in about 4 minutes later to find him turned around and facing his swing...picture the hands on a clock moving from 12 to3.  Not much, but it's something!  He's growing like a weed, too.  At about 26 inches long, he weighs a whopping 17lbs and is wearing 6-9 month clothing pretty comfortably...at just under 5 months old.  The other day, my brother said he better be a linebacker when he grows up or he's wasting all that size.  He's ridiculously happy these days, and spends 98% of his time smiling at someone or something.  He's amazing. 

And Bailey is amazing, as always.  She's got a dance recital coming up at the end of June (along with her third birthday) and she's soooo excited about her recital costume (a crazy pink taffeta number that she tries
to wear every day).  She's still doing great potty-wise, though we've had a few setbacks in the last couple weeks.  Nothing major, luckily, and she still does great overnight.  Scott and I are starting to plan her birthday party...I can't believe "my baby" is turning three already.  Where did the time go?!

She never ceases to amaze me with some of the things she says and does, and I can't help but be proud of her whenever I watch her.  Not only is she one of my very favorite people in the world, but I also like her and think she's one cool kid.  She really, really is.



Not too much else to report on right now.  Scott and I started a new cleansing program a few weeks ago and are having awesome results.  Feel free to hop on over and check out my journey From Sweatpants To Skinny Jeans.  Til next time!

Dear Less Than Perfect Mom

 *I stumbled across this online today, and it felt like the person who wrote it was writing specifically to me.  I don't know about you, but I needed this reminder today.*
 .......................................................................................................................

Dear Less Than Perfect Mom,

I've seen you around. I've seen you screaming at your kids in public, I've seen you ignoring them at the playground, I've seen you unshowered and wearing last night's pajama pants at preschool drop-off. I've seen you begging your children, bribing them, threatening them. I've seen you shouting back and forth with your husband, with your mom, with the police officer at the crosswalk.

I've seen you running around with your kids, getting dirty and occasionally swearing audibly when you bang a knee. I've seen you sharing a milkshake with a manic 4-year-old. I've seen you wiping your kids' boogers with your bare palm, and then smearing them on the back of your jeans. I've seen you carry your toddler flopped over the crook of your arm while chasing a runaway ball.

I've also seen you gritting your teeth while your kid screamed at you for making him practice piano, or soccer, or basket weaving or whatever it was. I've seen you close your eyes and breathe slowly after finding a gallon of milk dumped into your trunk. I've seen you crying into the sink while you desperately scrub crayon off your best designer purse. I've seen you pacing in front of the house.

I've seen you at the hospital waiting room. I've seen you at the pharmacy counter. I've seen you looking tired and frightened.

I've seen a lot of you, actually.

I see you every single day.

I don't know if you planned to be a parent or not. If you always knew from your earliest years that you wanted to bring children into the world, to tend to them, or if motherhood was thrust upon you unexpectedly. I don't know if it meets your expectations, or if you spent your first days as a mom terrified that you would never feel what you imagined "motherly love" would feel like for your child. I don't know if you struggled with infertility, or with pregnancy loss, or with a traumatic birth. I don't know if you created your child with your body, or created your family by welcoming your child into it.

But I know a lot about you.

I know that you didn't get everything that you wanted. I know that you got a wealth of things you never knew you wanted until they were there in front of you. I know that you don't believe that you're doing your best, that you think you can do better. I know you are doing better than you think.

I know that when you look at your child, your children, you see yourself. And I know that you don't, that you see a stranger who can't understand why the small details of childhood that were so important to you are a bother to this small person who resembles you.

I know that you want to throw a lamp at your teenager's head sometimes. I know you want to toss your 3-year-old out the window once in a while.

I know that some nights, once it's finally quiet, you curl up in bed and cry. I know that sometimes, you don't, even though you wanted to.

I know that some days are so hard that all you want is for them to end, and then at bedtime your children hug you and kiss you and tell you how much they love you and want to be like you, and you wish the day could last forever.

But it never does. The day always ends, and the next day brings new challenges. Fevers, heartbreak, art projects, new friends, new pets, new fights. And every day you do what you need to do.

You take care of things, because that's your job. You go to work, or you fill up the crock pot, or you climb into the garden, or strap the baby to your back and pull out the vacuum cleaner.

You drop everything you're doing to moderate an argument over whose turn it is to use a specifically colored marker, or to kiss a boo-boo, or to have a conversation about what kind of lipstick Pinocchio's Mommy wears.

I know that you have tickle fights in blanket forts, and that you have the words to at least eight different picture books memorized. I've heard that you dance like a wild woman when it's just you and them. That you have no shame about farting or belching in their presence, that you make up goofy songs about peas and potatoes and cheese.

I know that an hour past bedtime, you drop what you're doing and trim the fingernail that your 3-year-old insists is keeping her up. I know that you stop cleaning dishes because your kids insist you need to join their tea party. I know you fed your kids PB&J for four days straight when you had the flu. I know that you eat leftover crusts over the sink while your kids watch "Super Why."

I know you didn't expect most of this. I know you didn't anticipate loving somebody so intensely, or loathing your post-baby body so much, or being so tired or being the mom you've turned out to be.

You thought you had it figured out. Or you were blind and terrified. You hired the perfect nanny. Or you quit your job and learned to assemble flat-packed baby furniture. You get confused by the conflict of feeling like nothing has changed since you were free and unfettered by children, and looking back on the choices you made as though an impostor was wearing your skin.

You're not a perfect mom. No matter how you try, no matter what you do. You will never be a perfect mom.

And maybe that haunts you. Or maybe you've made peace with it. Or maybe it was never a problem to begin with.

No matter how much you do, there is always more. No matter how little you do, when the day is over, your children are still loved. They still smile at you, believing you have magical powers to fix almost anything. No matter what happened at work, or at school, or in playgroup, you have still done everything in your power to ensure that the next morning will dawn and your children will be as happy, healthy, and wise as could possibly be hoped.

There's an old Yiddish saying: "There is one perfect child in the world, and every mother has it."

Unfortunately, there are no perfect parents. Your kids will grow up determined to be different than you. They will grow up certain that they won't make their kids take piano lessons, or they'll be more lenient, or more strict, or have more kids, or have fewer, or have none at all.

No matter how far from perfect you are, you are better than you think.

Someday your kids will be running around like crazy people at church and concuss themselves on a hand rail, and somebody will still walk up to you and tell you what a beautiful family you have. You'll be at the park and your kids will be covered in mud and jam up to the elbows, smearing your car with sugary cement, and a pregnant lady will stop and smile at you wistfully.

No matter how many doubts you might have, you never need doubt this one thing: You are not perfect.

And that's good. Because really, neither is your child. And that means nobody can care for them the way you can, with the wealth of your understanding and your experience. Nobody knows what your child's squall means, or what their jokes mean, or why they are crying better than you do.

And since no mother is perfect, chances are you are caught in a two billion way tie for Best Mom in the World.

Congratulations, Best Mom in the World. You're not perfect.

You are as good as anybody can get.

More Confessions

Last night, I got a text from my friend Lauren, who has 2 kids the same age as Bailey and Gerry.  We both ended up commiserating about the fact that we're having a bit of a rough time with a toddler prone to tantrums and an infant that's not sleeping very well, working, and trying to keep the house from becoming a hazardous wasteland.  This, for some reason, got me thinking about my last confession post and I realized that I may have some more confessing to do.

A couple months ago, a friend of mine asked me my honest opinion on having kids and said that, from what I write, I seem very content and happy.  I really, really am.  But there are always moments when I sit back and think to myself, what the hell have I gotten myself into?  Last night was one of them...between Bailey, who seems to think she can have a mini meltdown when she doesn't get her way, and Gerry, who thinks it's just awesome to stay up all freakin' night, I started to wonder what people would think if they spent a normal day with us.  Which led me to thinking about my little "mom confessions".  Maybe some of you can commiserate...

.....this morning I told Gerry that he sucked.  He was up four times last night between the hours of 11pm and 5am...four times!  I was changing his diaper a little after 5 and he was looking at me with this big grin on his face like he knew that he'd won and I smiled back at him and said in a sing-songy voice, "I love you, little man, but you suck."  It felt kind of good.

.....I need to do a better job of "watching my language".  Bailey has picked up quite a few choice phrases from me, her favorite being "damn".  She uses it with surprising accuracy in conversation..."Mom, can you fix this damn thing?"  I consider myself lucky she hasn't dropped a few well-placed F-bombs into any conversations but, really, I need to watch what I say.  Scott has done a surprisingly good job of not using any questionable language within earshot of Bailey.  I, on the other hand, need some practice.

.....I bought Scott a Kindle Fire for Christmas and Bailey has used it 1000 times more than he has.  And I'm okay with that, because it gives me a much-need break sometimes.  She knows how to turn it on, go to Netflix, and put on one of her shows (she's been obsessed with My Little Pony these days) and she'll happily hang out in her room for an hour watching "the little tv".

.....I'm starting bad habits with Gerry.  I cannot...cannot...get this kid to sleep in his crib.  I've tried to put him in there for naps every day but he wakes up after about 20 minutes and then never goes back to sleep.  Thank God he's never truly fussy and is happy to lay there and play with his hands for a few minutes before deciding that he doesn't want to be in there anymore, but come on.  20 Minutes?  I haven't even bothered to try putting him in there at night.  He's still in the cradle in our room.  Actually...more often than not, he spends the majority of the night in our bed.  The second he wakes up in the middle of the night, it's game over.  He's awake and ready to party and God help us if we don't want to party with him.  Even after we've fed him and changed him, 9 times out of 10, he refuses to go back to sleep unless he's in bed with us. 

.....the other day I accidentally fell asleep when Bailey was (supposed to be) napping.  I was exhausted from getting very little sleep the night before and I passed out for a good 45 minutes.  I woke up and went to check on her in her bedroom...she wasn't there.  I found her in the bathroom standing on top of the toilet, with no pants on, her face covered in a little bit of every single jar and tube of makeup I own, smearing toothpaste on the window.  She turned around and saw me staring at her like this

 

 and she goes, "Uh, mommy?  You go back to nap?"  It could have been worse...but I should have known better.

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I'm sure I have a million and one other confessions, but both kids are up and raring to go right now, so those will have to wait for another time.  What are some of your confessions?

Playing Catch Up...Again

Last week the power cord to Scott's my laptop came to a sad and untimely death, complete with sparks and a foul smell.  So I've been without the laptop for almost 10 days now.  I could have easily updated the blog on my phone or kindle, but it's just much easier to do it on the computer.  So I hadn't written anything in awhile.  Not that much has happened, but still.

Shall I catch up with a bulleted list?  In the words of my niece, I don't see why not!

• Gerry had a crappy night's sleep last night.  And the night before.  Which means that Scott and I had a crappy night's sleep.  We'd been the lucky the last 3 nights or so; he'd been sleeping about 6-8 hours solid.  Then last night I put him to bed just before 9.  He woke up at 1am.  And again at 2:15.  And again at 3.  And again at about 4:05.  And again just before 5.  It was like having a freakin' newborn all over again.  He sucked down 4oz every time he woke up, too, so it's not even like I could say he was just up to be up.  Poor boy was hungry!  "They" say that when a baby is going through a crappy sleep phase it means that he/she is mastering a new skill (ie; rolling, sitting up, etc.).  Well, I don't know what skill Gerry's working on, but it better be a doozy because I am not one for the zombie life. 
• I have another appointment with the neurosurgeon next month.  I saw his nurse practitioner a few weeks ago and she ordered new x-rays and a new MRI, and then we'll schedule the surgery at my appointment in May.  I'm sort of, kind of, dreading it...and I'm definitely not looking forward to the recovery.  She says it shouldn't be too bad at all, but I know there won't be much "recovering" going on with two kids and a home daycare.  I am, however, very excited to possibly finally be pain-free...for the first time in about ten years!
• Today is "Take your child to work" day.  Scott has a day full of meetings and won''t be teaching any classes, so he's taking Bailey in tomorrow morning instead.  Tonight when I was putting her to bed I reminded her that she was going to wake up early and go to work with daddy in the morning.  She got all excited, then gasped and said, "What am I gonna wear?!"  She ended up wearing the Hawaiian dress that Aunt Susan got her (she will wear this damn dress every day unless we sneak it into the laundry when she's not looking).
• I've decided that I need to get Gerry used to napping in his crib instead of in the swing.  Which is going to suck.  He takes GREAT naps in the swing...I'm talking a good 2-3 hours at a time.  But he can't sleep in there forever.  Yesterday, I napped him in his crib for the first time ever...big fat fail.  He didn't sleep for more than 20 minutes at a time and every little noise woke him up.  He was exhausted by bedtime, and still didn't sleep well overnight.  Still super happy, though, as always!

Love his smile...and those chubby legs!

Enjoying some time in the exersaucer

Modeling for the camera

Siblings <3

I keep chuckling at Scott's photobomb here  ;-)

Miss Independent

Bailey is becoming more and more independent, much to my chagrin.  She wants to do everything herself, .  whether it be getting dressed or brushing her teeth, opening doors or buckling herself in her car seat.  She doesn't need (an, more importantly, she doesn't want) any help at all.  And I'm not sure how I feel about that.

On the one hand, I'm insanely proud of how independent and self-sufficient she is at not-even-3-years-old.  She gets herself dressed and undressed without any help, and I never have to worry about her when it comes to maneuvering the stairs.  She's figured out how to buckle her car seat and she's able to lock and unlock most doors.  She's able to drink out of regular cups, and 9 times out of 10 she can pour things from one cup into another without spilling.  When she wants something she can't reach, she figures out a way to get it.  More often than not, unfortunately, this involves moving various pieces of furniture until she's able to climb to reach whatever it is she wants.  I know that, being her mother, I'm biased when it comes to things like this, but I really think that she's a bit ahead of most kids her age when it comes to these kinds of tasks.  I cannot believe how much she's already capable of doing on her own.

But, on the other hand, this newly discovered independence makes me so, so sad.  Tonight, I tried to help her get her pajamas on and she insisted on doing it all by herself.  When she got stuck trying to fit her head through an armhole, I was only allowed to sit on the couch and verbally talk her through it...she wouldn't let me touch her clothes or do it for her.  She took it upon herself to drag a chair over, take the fish food off the counter, and feed her fish...all without any help from me.  When she wants to go outside, she puts her shoes on...without my help.

And, just like that, she doesn't need me anymore.

Overnight, she became this whole other person.  Completely separate from me.  With her own abilities and strengths.  I feel like she becomes a little bit more grown up every day.  Don't get me wrong - I'm happy that she's able to navigate throughout the day with little help.  It gives me comfort to know that, if need be, she could do all these things for herself.  But there's a part of me...a GIANT part of me...that is sitting here and mourning the loss of the baby who was so dependent on me for so long.  I blinked, and she went from this teeny tiny little infant who needed me to do everything from feeding her to clothing her to bathing her and everything in between to a little girl who really doesn't need her mommy all that much.  A little girl who knows what she wants, who can decide things for herself, and who doesn't need help with very many things anymore.

I'm in awe of her and proud of her, and I absolutely adore the young girl that she's becoming.  I love that I'm the first person she comes running to when she learns to complete a new skill.  But I'll miss the days when she needed me.  I'll miss the days when I was her whole world.  The same part of me that cheers her independence today is mourning the fact that she needed me just a little bit more yesterday.  She's growing up before my eyes and, while I can't wait to see the person she becomes, I wish that I could slow down time just a little bit.

Stranger Danger

Every time I think I've come to "the hardest part" when it comes to parenting, life (and Bailey) throws something else at me that makes everything else seem like peanuts when compared.

I need to teach her about stranger danger.

Since she was teeny, Bailey has had a pretty outgoing personality.  She's not shy when it comes to sharing her feelings or playing with other kids, and it's just one of the many things that I love about her.  I don't want to stifle that part of her personality, but at the same time, I don't want her to feel quite so comfortable when it comes to talking to strangers, whether they be kids or adults.

I took her with me to Target the other day and made the mistake of letting her walk beside the cart instead of sitting inside of it.  Normally, she's pretty good about sticking close to me in a crowd, but she's been seriously testing her boundaries lately.  I turned my back for ONE SECOND to pick up a bottle of shampoo and she took off.  I started following her, but she knows at this point that I can't run because of my back, and she used that to her advantage.  I hustled along with my cart, trying not to make it obvious to other shoppers that I had a runner on my hands.  The closer I got to her, the faster she ran, until I almost lost her in a crowd at the end of an aisle.  I finally gave up, yelled her name, and told her to get back here now.  She knew I meant business then, and came back to the cart.  I didn't give her the option to walk anymore, and made her sit in the cart (crying, I might add) while I finished my shopping.  She was angry, I was angry, and we were both disappointed with how our shopping trip ended up (I promised to buy her nail polish while we were out, then made her put it back when she ran away).

Similar scene while at Rita's last night.  She kept inching away from me while I was ordering our water ice.  Telling her to come back was useless, and I ended up leaving my wallet sitting at the window and chasing her down before she ran into the parking lot.

I sat her down that night and tried to explain to her why she absolutely cannot run away from me when we're out in public.  I talked to her about strangers, and told her that if she runs away a stranger could take her and then I'd never see her again, and daddy and I would be so sad.  I don't know how much she got out of it, but she keeps mentioning "strangers" and "never see mommy again". 

I keep wondering if I went about this the wrong way.

Is there a "right" way to explain something like this to a toddler?  She's not even 3 yet, and I feel like there's SO MUCH that I need to shield her and protect her from.  How do I do that without making her afraid of everything?  I don't want her to lose her exuberance or her outgoing nature, and I don't want to make her a less-friendly person...but I also want her to know that not everyone is a friend and that there are some people in this world who can't be trusted.  How do I do that without taking away some of her wonder of the world around her?

Strange as it sounds, I feel like I'm taking away some of her innocence.  Does that make sense?  I feel like a little part of her childhood, the best part of her "kid-ness", has to die in order for her to learn this lesson.  And I hate that. 

So tell me, parents, how can I teach her about stranger danger without making her fearful of everything?

Gerry: 3 Months Old

Gerry is 3 months old today!  My, how time flies...

His latest trick now is that he's rolling over.  Not consistently, and I'm kind of inclined to think that 90% of the time it's completely unintentional and just the weight of his head rolling him over, but he's doing it nonetheless.  He gets this surprised look on his face every time, too, like How did I get here?

He's becoming quite a little chatterbox, making all kinds of sounds.  Sometimes he experiments with longer sounds, louder sounds...watching his teeny little lips open and close and twist to get his noises out cracks me up.  And it totaly makes his day when you acknowledge him and "answer" him back.  Then he's all smiles and chatting.

Speaking of smiles...he's doing that sooooo often these days!  He's been a chill baby from day one, but he's so HAPPY these days, too.  Smiling every chance he gets and anytime someone comes into his field of vision.  When he wakes up in the morning he usually starts off by grunting or fussing a little bit, looking for food.  But as soon as he sees me he gets this giant smile on his face and starts cooing at me, and it's the most fantastic way to start my day.  I remember when Bailey was an infant and used to do the same thing...I'll never get tired of it, and will treasure every single smile.

He's been sleeping pretty well.  Still in our bedroom, though we'll start transitioning him to the crib in his bedroom in the next month or two.  Technically, he's sleeping through the night according to most "practices", which consider 5 consecutive hours of sleep "sleeping through the night".  More often than not, we get a solid 6-7 hours straight out of him.  He wakes up once for a bottle, and then goes right back to sleep for a few more hours before getting up for the day.

I just adore him.  It's funny how, before they're born, you can't imagine what it'll be like having a baby.  But then, once they're here, you can't imagine your life without them.  These last 3 months with Gerry have been just wonderful, and we all love him to pieces.

Want to see some pictures from the last few weeks?  You do?  Okay...without further ado...

Always with the fingers in his mouth

Tummy Time!

Love the moustache bink

Easter Sunday  :-)

Bailey wanted to visit the Easter Bunny

Easter Sunday...Bailey was NOT feeling this picture

Love these two

Oh, the Pain!

Most of you know that I have a herniated disc in my back.  It's been that way for years and years, and I'll go through periods of time where it doesn't bother me at all.  Then there are times when it hurts so bad that I have to alternate ice and heat, and walk very carefully because I never know when the pain is going to hit.

Throughout both of my pregnancies, the herniated disc NEVER caused a problem.  Not once.  It was like, as soon as I found out I was pregnant the pain just went away.  Unfortunately, though, it always comes back after.  This past Monday it had started to get uncomfortable again.  Not painful, per se, but uncomfortable in that when I bent a certain way I could feel discomfort.  I didn't think much of it and just went about business as usual.  That night, we went to my mom and dad's house so Bailey could tell them all about going on the potty.  When we got home that night, Bailey was acting like a jerk and refused to come in the house.  We tried cajoling her, talking sternly to her, and pretending we were just going to leave her outside (which didn't work because she just called our bluff and was like, that's fine...I like it out here).  When nothing else worked, I walked back to where she was standing next to the car and picked her up, intending to just carry her in the house.

The next thing I know, my back just exploded in pain and I was on my hands and knees on the ground.

I'd managed to not-so-gracefully put Bailey down before I fell, thankfully, and I remember her standing there going, "You okay, mommy?  You okay?"  We were both crying at that point, her because she thought she was in trouble and me because I was in so much damn pain.  Scott was halfway to the house with Gerry and turned around and came running back when I fell.  He tried to help me up but I literally could not move.  I was in so much pain I couldn't catch my breath and I just told Scott to get the kids in the house and come back for me.  Poor Bailey was freaking out at this point and Gerry was starting to fuss in his car seat, so Scott hustled them both inside the house while I pretty much laid there on the ground...did I mention it was cold and raining? 

After what felt like forever, Scott came back out for me and tried to lift me onto my feet.  I couldn't move.  The slightest little movement sent shock waves of pain spasming from my back all the way to my toes, and I couldn't hold myself up.  Scott pretty much had to half drag and half carry me into the house.  He called my mom to come and sit with Bailey and Gerry while we went to the ER.

Long story short, the ER was no help.  They gave me a percocet, which didn't come close to touching the pain, and told me to take Motrin and call my doctor in the morning.  So Scott half dragged and half carried me back home.  The next morning, I couldn't get out of bed.  Every tiny little movement caused such severe pain that it brought tears to my eyes and made me nauseous.  It took me 45 minutes just to sit up with my feet hanging over the side of the bed.  I spent that time crying, cursing, and gasping in pain before Scott finally put his foot down and told me I wasn't getting out of bed that day.  He helped me back into bed (another half hour) and went downstairs to open the door for daycare.  Then spent the rest of the day taking care of all the kids while running upstairs to check on me and bring me medicine.  I couldn't move without help, and at times the pain was just unbearable. Poor Scott spent his Spring Break running the daycare and helping me "recover". 

Thursday was the first day I was able to walk without needing someone to hold me up.  I got around by leaning on walls and furniture as I passed.  I went to the doctor to see what my options were and to (hopefully) get some relief from the pain.  I had done 8 weeks of physical therapy plus epidural steroid injections before I got pregnant with Gerry and neither had helped.  And now I was losing strength in my right leg, so my only option at this point is surgery.  My doctor sent me home with the number for a surgeon and a cocktail of steroids, percocet and muscle relaxers to get me through the next couple weeks. 

It's now Friday, and I'm able to shuffle around on my own as long as I walk hunched over.  I can't pick anything up yet and sometimes when I move it sends pain shooting through my back and down my leg.  But I'm moving around without needing help and I'm happy about that. I don't know what I'm going to do when Scott goes back to work next week, but I'm hoping that I'll be alright by then.  Every day it gets a little bit better.  Crossing my fingers!

That Was WAY Too Easy

BAILEY IS OFFICIALLY POTTY TRAINED!!!

Ahhhh, that feels good to say.  And I can't believe how easy it was.  We started Saturday afternoon and by Monday she pretty much had it down pat. I think the best thing we could have done was to wait until we did to train her.  She was 100% ready and it was pain-free for all of us.  Here's how we did it:

We took her out Saturday afternoon and made a big deal about letting her pick out her own underwear, a new potty just for her, and special candy that she could have when she went potty.  I mentioned in my previous post that she did wonderfully Saturday afternoon, and even went potty all by herself.  By Sunday, though, we were back to square one and I felt like there was no hope.  She didn't make it to the potty once on Sunday.  At times, I thought that she wasn't even trying.  But we stuck with it, and made her help us clean up any mess she made when she peed on the floor.  Same thing with changing out of her wet clothes and into clean, dry ones.  We helped her if she needed it, of course, but she did the majority of the cleaning up herself. 

Monday morning, she woke up dry but had another accident and I thought, here we go again.  But she surprised us all by going the entire day without a single accident...and she hasn't looked back.  It's now Friday and she hasn't had an accident since Monday morning.  She's able to go potty all by herself (pulling her pants and underwear down and then up when she's all done) and LOVES that her potty cheers for her when she goes.  During the day we keep her potty on the landing to go upstairs.  For naps and bedtime, we move the potty into her bedroom so that she can use it as she needs to.  When she pees in the potty she gets 2 Hershey kisses.  When she poops, she gets 3. 

I'm still a teeny bit hesitant for naps and bedtime, though, so we always put a pull-up on OVER her underwear when she goes to sleep.  Pull-ups give her a rash, so she can't wear them in place of underwear, but putting one on over top of them lets her feel if/when she has an accident and also keeps the mess we have to clean to a minimum.  I'm proud to say that we probably don't need to use the pull-ups since she's staying dry through the night.  But it's nice to have them, just in case. 

Scott and I are so proud of Bailey, and we still can't believe how easy the whole potty training process turned out to be.  Like I said, I think a huge factor in it being so easy was the fact that we didn't push her and we waited until she was good and ready.  She'll be 3 in June, so this was a perfect time for all of us.  She's done great!!