When we last left off, the Poppy was born VBAC style on her due date, accompanied by two epidurals, some hours and a lot of discomfort. When #3 was on the way, we planned another VBAC. His original due date was June 22nd, but that was moved up to the 16th, due to his measuring ahead. But I wondered to myself--does the baby know the due date is moved?
On Wednesday the 14th the doctor stripped the membranes. On the 15th I felt pretty terrible, mostly because of the 14th. Luckily my mom was here and she kept everyone amused while I flopped around the house. As with the Poppy, I had had contractions now and then for the last few weeks, but nothing consistent and nothing more than annoying. Around 5:00 I noticed they were getting more painful and at 7:00 I started timing them. We put people to bed, then sat around until 9:30 or so. Then off we went to the hospital and I cried most of the way because hormones?
We arrived and I got checked at 9:45 and was at a 3 (of 10), which was...exactly where I was at my appointment the day before. Sigh. So the nurse said she'd check me in an hour and if anything changed then they'd admit me. (Exactly what happened with the Poppy, if you recall [which you probably don't because why]) As with the Poppy, I threw up dinner, just shy of the 10:45 recheck time. I think the nurse took pity on me at that point and said she could check whenever I was ready.
I walked back and forth in the room until 11:15, the nurse came back and I was at a 5! A 5! Do you know how many hours it took to get to a 5 with the Poppy? Actually, I myself do not know, but it was a lot longer. Anyway, so I finally got admitted and a new team of nurses came in at 11:30 to put in my IV, which had to be done before I could get the epidural. Even though I was planning for an epidural (as per my doctor's recommendation for a VBAC), I was really hoping to be more calm until that epidural came. Not that I was a crazy person with the Poppy but, this being the second time around, I wanted to manage myself better.
The one nurse--I will call him Guy Nurse, because he was a guy--spent LITERALLY 20 minutes deciding where to place the IV. He didn't want to put it in my hand because he thought that was "mean" so he finally put it in my wrist. Except that didn't work so he put it in my hand after all. Except that didn't work either and he had to take it out and blood sprayed all over. Needless to say, I considered stabbing HIM with the needle many times.
The other nurse--I will call her Lady Nurse, because she was a lady--put an IV in my other hand in about 30 seconds. The lesson here is that it is MUCH more mean to take 20+ minutes making two failed attempts at an IV than it is to just put it in my dang hand. But I suppose my irritation distracted me a bit from the contractions, HA. Was that his plan all along??
So, the time is now just shy of midnight. The epidural guy is right next door, the IV is in, the doctor is coming and will break my water after the epidural is done. The doctor arrives before the epidural guy (official job title) and decides to just go ahead and break my water. The guy better hurry with the epidural, he says, because I'm at an 8. An 8! Hurray! And also ow.
About 30 seconds after breaking my water, the ow changed to an OW and I said, "Oh my gosh, oh my gosh! The baby is coming right now!" I have a read a LOT of birth stories and people always talk about the sudden need to push--now I know what they mean. At first everyone was like "...no, it's okay, just relax..." but they quickly changed their minds. Baby was riding the tidal wave right out the door.
The epidural guy arrived about a minute later and offered to try anyway, at least just a local injection. The nurses told me to skip it, as it clearly wouldn't take long, and they were right. Nine minutes after the water breakage (an hour after being admitted) and baby was out, exactly on his (new) due date.
(I guess he got the memo after all.)
8 pounds, 2 ounces and 20 inches of little baby perfection.
By the way, those nine minutes were super painful. Just really awful. I've had three babies now (!) and each of them arrived in such different ways and times (Miss A was certainly the slowpoke at being born). But they have all been so worth it--worth the c section recovery, worth the two epidurals, worth the nine minutes.
Happy you're here, little one.
(And not just because I'm now heartburn freeeeeeeeeeeee!)
Sunday, June 25, 2017
Wednesday, April 26, 2017
Remember when I used to blog? For the better part of last year and this one I actually forgot I even HAD a blog. But I have come out of blogging hibernation to document our kitchen overhaul because it was a lot of work and it looks so different now.
When we first moved we planned to redo the cabinets at some point, just because I wanted white ones. Soon after moving in we realized the cabinets had been stained and the workmanship was very poor indeed--streaky and incomplete. Also the counter was painted. Not nicely painted, just slapped on and it soon began to chip. The hardware was cheap and flimsy. So the kitchen grew uglier, but with Babycakes on the way we knew a redo wasn't going to happen anytime soon.
But cast your minds back to last October. I whined about how we didn't redo our kitchen still and so we wouldn't do it until next summer and Drew said, "Let's do it this weekend!" Which is the reaction I was fishing for, to be honest, evvvvvven though I proceeded to complain about all the reasons it wouldn't work before saying okayyyyyy.
Our original plan was just to start with the cabinets but then we said, why don't we just paint the whole room too? It seemed the moment. So that Friday we bought a lot of paint stuff and once the smaller set was in bed we got to work.
|(I spent a lot of Friday taking doors and curtains downs and putting up tape.)|
|(We wound up doing three coats)|
|(The inspector came out in the morning and approved of our work. Yes, he has a whale inside his jammies.)|
Anyway, we set up shop in the garage and got to work scrubbing.
We scrubbed all afternoon and for hours after bedtime. I won't say it wasn't hard. I won't say that I didn't want to give up and cry at one point. And I won't say that it was easy to lift my arms the next day. BUT we got the scrubbing DONE.
The painting took some time, just because it was coat one side, coat on the other side, coat inside...repeat, repeat. We tried the antique effect, but it didn't really work with our color so that saved us a step. So then we sealed everything. After they dried and set for a while we got to put them back together and the kitchen regained some order. Plus, new hardware!
I wish I had a picture of the old handles. Just know that they were cheap and very shiny and annoying. We got these pewter-ish ones and I love them. Instead of painting the sides of the big cabinet I decided to do chalkboard paint on them. I thought it would be fun and I could, you know, write stuff on them.
Turns out I like them better clean looking so...don't tell the kids it's a chalkboard... I added the clothespins, which are handy. Kind of wish I'd painted them too though. (Anyone need any chalkboard paint?)
SO. The cabinets and the walls were done. We had a big goal of clearing off the counters so we got an undercabinet CD player, installed some hooks for bananas and got a smaller fruit bowl. Eventually we hung a wire basket on the cabinet by the sink to put soap and stuff in. Then we were finally ready to do the counters! We used this kit, which we had to order.
First went on the primer coat. We were pretty pleased just with this change:
The process is basically layering colors over the primer. It's easy to customize and didn't even take that long either, though we don't have THAT much counterspace. Plus it's easy enough that certain toddlers can try it out.
(I should say we plan to get new countertops at some point, but, in the meanwhile, we figured painting them couldn't possibly look worse than their previous paint job.)
And it turned out great!
Like four months later I finally did some art to hang over the window and we called it done! So now here are the final after pictures:
|(New butter dish!)|
|(How'd this get in here?)|
Ta da! Credit for the accessories on the cabinet and the whale hook goes to Hobby Lobby. Side story: one reason we got that red buoy is because if you ask Mr C what those are called, he'll say, "A GUH!" for some reason. He knows the real term, but he still says that anyway and Miss A probably thinks that's what they're called. We'll set her straight before college.
On a semi-related note, here are three food things I am really excited about lately:
This tomato soup, which has replaced all other recipes as my favorite.
These pickled red onions, which are so good I was eating them out of the jar.
Making hard boiled eggs in the oven--WHAT. This is life changing, people! I can't find a good link so I will just tell you:
1) Eggs in a muffin tin
2) Muffin tin in a 350 degree oven for 30 minutes
3) Eggs straight into an ice bath
4) Eat all the eggs (which are SO easy to peel!)
Best thing ever.
And now I can make all these things in a kitchen that isn't hideous!
Tuesday, June 07, 2016
Once upon a time there was a teensy weensy little fellow formerly referred to as the Speck. Look at his funny little elf face:
And now that teensy weensy baby has achieved the illustrious age of 3! I know I said this last year, but it's amazing the difference a year makes. He's grown so much in basically every direction, and is such a little person now.
|(Sometimes he rides the bike and wears the helmet at the same time.)|
Of course not everything has changed. He still loves everything with wheels, though he can identify more of them by name now. Loves his bike and scooter and gets better at riding them all the time. He likes to be outside exploring, digging in the dirt, going on walks, jumping on the trampoline, antagonizing bugs or daredevil swinging.
|Just a little stitious.|
Generally he has a great appetite, and he particularly loves cheese, peanut butter, fruits, and mac and cheese (who doesn't?). He's still not a big fan of meat, but pepperoni has won him over. Occasionally he'll tell me chicken is yucky.
I suppose you could say that in the last year his personality has simply continued to expand along with his physical dimensions. He knows what he likes and what he wants and he's happy to tell you. He recognizes when people are sad. He has a sense of humor and laughs at funny faces and funny noises. Sometimes we play a game where he says "Heyyyyyyy Mama!" and I say back something random instead of his name, like "Heyyyyyyyy bathtub!" And he says, "Bathtub?! Hah!" Simple pleasures.
I will admit that we did not achieve all the goals I had set for this past year. In fact we only hit one of them--moving into the big boy bed. But we'll get to the others soon. Sooooon. And he does love his bed, though it took a few days.
Anyway, he's just a funny and fun boy with lots of energy and lots of interests. He loves to read books and make silly faces. Also loves to watch Charlie and Lola and he also got to see a few movies this year (Tangled, Winnie the Pooh and Peanuts) and he still talks about all of them. He's gotten into music lately too, asking for Lion King and Tangled ("Prepunzel") a lot, but also Princess and the Frog (Tiana) or sometimes the crab (Little Mermaid--I only have "Kiss the Girl" on my iPod...). I love to see what he gravitates to, though you could say he just gravitates towards fun things in general.
|Who needs eggs when you have golf balls?|
This is a pretty good representation of their relationship actually. Buddies, with no respect for personal space. Lately he has been walking her around the house by the hand and trying to get her to make her own funny faces. She has picked up a few from him as well. If she's sad in the car he'll talk to her and say "We almost home, Baby. It's okay, Baby."
|This was his flower sniffing stance for a while. ??|
|He always pauses during a walk to sit in a "little nest."|
|(Still loves Kitty too.)|
Not to say that this year was without its bumps. Like the rejection of potty training and of course the teeth incident. He's had some epic meltdowns too. But after all, he is still a pretty little person.
But even during the meltdowns or when he wants me to move his water for him at bedtime (or tuck Kitty in or adjust his blankets or put his book in the right place or put his car UNDER the blankets or decides his jammies are "too hot. Too hot, mama." etc. etc. etc.), he is just the best. I'm looking forward to seeing what my favorite three year old has in store for the coming year.
It's going to be good!