Archive for July, 2009

July 31st, 2009

vaccines. yes, i said it. i think.

my good friend mary has given me many issues of her pre-loved mothering magazines which i have become totally addicted to. she recently bought the  july/august  issue and had it mailed to me (how wonderful is she?) because it spoke about some key issues she is very passionate about (vaccinations and breast feeding) and that she knows i am too (ok, so maybe i’m not quite as passionate, but i am definitely interested and try hard). (let’s be honest, i would totally opt for the lazy man version of lobster, if i liked it.) so last night, i ditched new moon (which is so not easy to do) and read the article ‘vaccine debate,’ by jennifer mugulis.

i know there is SO MUCH out there on this topic and honestly, i try to take the soak-up-as-much-knowledge-as-you-can-without-loosing-your-mind approach to things like this, because i guess i think that’s the healthiest way (for me). on my way to work this morning i couldn’t stop thinking about the article (it was really good) and how it’s possible that the allegations of something so serious can be so unknown. wtf?

so here i am, among 400 gazillion other mommy bloggers, going to go there. well, not super-duper-into-it-there because i really don’t have enough knowledge or any credentials to speak (write) on the topic of vaccinations. but i have a child, and one on the way, who i care insanely about and want the absolute best for… and last i checked i don’t live under a rock.

every time we go to the pediatricians office it seems as though there is a new, hip, trendy, all-the-kids-are-getting-it vaccine ready for our son’s perfect, meaty little thigh. try as i might to research what each of the vaccines (that we know we’ll be offered) are and why they are recommended and whether the risk out weighs the benefit or vice versa, i still feel overwhelmed, undereducated, and down right unsure.

although we have mostly followed the recommended vaccination schedule with jackson, we have opted to postpone some vaccines until he is older and/or we’ve had more time to make a confident decision and have declined others which we feel are totally superfluous. whenever we’ve declined a vaccine our pediatrician hasn’t batted an eyelash. is it because she’s so freaking sick of parents like us who are scared shitless about the ingredients, the side effects and the general hysteria that seems to be in every book, magazine, article and blog we come across? does she think, ‘here we go again, this crazy ass lady who thinks her son’s going to get autism after the MMR shot’?

well lady, from what i know there are a lot of parents out there who say yes, and that alone is enough for me to proceed with caution. (not to mention, in my opinion, the evidence disproving a correlation between autism and vaccinations is lacking some major must-have components.) after you read an article like this one and learn about a mother who’s walking, running, talking, smiling, happy toddler is now immobile, mute and diagnosed as autistic just weeks after receiving a vaccination is enough to make me want to move to a deserted island with my family, a few goats and maybe a chicken or two. seriously.

i’m not really sure where, if anywhere, i’m going with all of this. i guess just sharing, venting and realizing more and more how seriously effed up this all is. i am not anti-vaccinations. i do believe that many have more benefit than risk. but i also feel strongly that my two hour old infant does not need a shot to prevent a blood disease derived mainly from sexually transmitted diseases. i also have to wonder what was so wrong with the immunization schedule from the 1980′s, when only seven vaccines ( diphtheria, tetanus, pertussis, measles, mumps, rubella and polio) were administered and they were all given separately (The Children’s Hospital of Philadelphia, http://www.chop.edu/consumer/jsp/division/generic.jsp?id=75700)? in fact, many european countries still follow a schedule similar to the one from the 1980′s in the US and guess what? childhood autism and asthma are not the epidemic there that they are in the united states. and seriously, if so much of the controversy lies around these vaccines being administered together instead of in individual shots why won’t companies like merck and glaxosmithkline manufacture them separately? when i asked our pediatrician just that she said her office had been trying to get them individually but so were everyone else and their brother; it just wasn’t going to happen. a friend who’s children see a different pediatrician in the same area said he could get the shots separately but they wouldn’t be covered by insurance. so if you had a few thousand extra dollars sitting around you might get lucky? why is this so not right on so many levels?

so i guess for now the bloods are proceeding with caution. at least until we can round up some goats and chickens and a parachute to land us safely somewhere between vanuatu and figi.

i know it’s kind of a loaded topic, but what are your thoughts?

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July 30th, 2009

humor me

 

today is thursday, july 30th. my second child will be arriving on september 8th, that’s in 40 days. i’m truly praying that s/he doesn’t get the i-wanna-come-out-sooner itch because i/we/our house is SO not ready.  i’ve been really trying to remain calm. to not badger justin about the thousands of things we need to get done because although he won’t outwardly appear to be panicking, he will be. his anxiety will come out the way it always does; in his sleep. unlike me, he’ll slip into bed, put his head on the pillow and be fast asleep within 4.3 seconds. but 3-6 hours later he’ll wake with a start in a confused, and totally sweat engulfed state. we’ve been noting the patterns of this strange, wet behavior and know now that it is his way of dealing with life’s stresses (i get migraines with vision loss, speech loss and literally mind loss; damn, we’re a wreck, huh?). so, because it’s scary for both of us (not to mention a pain in the ass to change the sheets constantly) i’ve been trying like hell to keep all of my to-do lists kinda, sorta, as best i can, at bay. justin’s work schedule is totally crazed right now and he’s under a lot of pressure (on all accounts) to get shit done. he’s assured me our to-do list will get done before the baby comes. why do i have a sneaking suspicion that we’re going to be pulling out of the driveway en route to the hospital with spackle smeared across our faces, saw dust in our hair and wet paint on the walls?

see, i’m a nester. even when i’m not pregnant. i think lots of women are, actually. whenever i’ve been going through a change (moving, menstruating, preparing for a baby, whatever the case may be) i get there mentally by getting my physical surroundings in check. when i’m menstruating, i clean. top to bottom and inside out. when i move i start one room at a time and don’t stop until things are in their places and feel right. honestly, it’s hard for me to sleep until i feel some sense of calm and order (i may also have my mom to thank for some of this neurosis).  when i was 25 weeks pregnant with jackson his room was painted, the furniture was in place and the closet organizers were installed. by the time i was 35 weeks (which is where i am today with round two) i was washing onesies, folding and re-folding blankets and sleep sacks, packing and re-packing the hospital bag, tracing the outlines of the crib rails with my fingers, fantasizing, pretending and anxiously waiting. i was totally nested out.

yesterday, we started construction in our house. yes, i mean drills, dust, lots of tools, pre-hung doors laying sideways across the floor of our bedroom, 2×4′s and nails. this means that not only are folding newborn onesies an activity of the way distant future, the nesting part of my brain is oozing and bursting through ever orifice of my body. need. to. let. it. out. soon. or. i. might. die.

justin and i decided (months ago, mind you) to convert our master bedroom into two smaller rooms for the kids. this entails, among lots of other things, building walls, installing doors, extending baseboard heating, mudding, spackling, sanding, painting, moving our bedroom into jackson’s current room, making a new ‘big boy’ room for jackson and preparing a nursery. and one of my main goals was to do it a timely manner so jackson could be in his new room and settled before introducing a new living, breathing, attention-consuming, component to our  family. hmmmm. i think this kid’s going to learn the life lesson sink or swim pretty early. lets hope he’s got more in common with michael phelps than the titanic.

this morning was a great example of how different men and women are (at least in our family) and how on the same page, but SO not, we are. we’re getting dressed for work. jackson is running back and forth between our rooms with my eye shadow brush in hand, ‘painting’ his carpet with it (and i wonder why my eyes have been so itchy lately). justin and i are in our room trying to decide what pieces of furniture need to moved out, where and in what order, for the remaining door and wall to go in. my mind starts drifting (go figure) to other, equally important things, like jackson’s clothes are going to have to go in the closet in the nursery (until one is built in his room) and what bureau might he use? will the new chair for the nursery go in this corner or that one? i’m thinking this lighter blue (pointing at the new curtains i purchased) for jackson’s walls and maybe doing a stripe of this orange somewhere? i barely get an answer, let alone acknowledgement that words just came out of my mouth. with a slightly perturbed look he says something along the lines of, or at least i deciphered it as, you’ve got to be shitting me. i’ve got way more important things to think about than in what corner the freaking chair will go and what shade of orange to paint a stripe. i finish lubing my belly, throw my shirt on and walk off (attempting to ‘huff’ as much as possible) to get jackson dressed.

as we’re getting ready to head out the door justin apologizes (although, i’m sure he doesn’t think this is really necessary but knows that i’m more stubborn and probably will wait until later, if at all, to discuss – yes, he’s usually the bigger person) for whatever it was he did to make me huff and puff. and per my usual self, i haven’t really processed what it is that made me mad until i start to speak (guess that whole communication thing really works. weird). turns out all i was looking for was to be humored. humoring your spouse, in good times and bad, should be built into your wedding vows if you ask me. because seriously, how often do you really not care about something your husband is into but you ask about it, and talk about it and support it because you care about him? this was one of those moments. i wasn’t looking for a half hour long interior design discussion. i know he’s not going to be scratching his head at the behr paint counter pondering between rust and paprika, but taking one second to point to a corner for the chair wouldn’t have killed him. maybe i’m just asking too much? maybe we’re both a little sensitive these days; and for good reason. damn, i wish i could come home and have cold blue moon, or three. guess i’ll have to resort to the usual: watermelon sherbet with chocolate chips on top…

bottom line, whether justin knows it or not, i’ve got all the furniture already laid out in my head. i know where jackson’s crib will go and his big boy bed. i also already know which corner the chair will go in and what color slip color i’m going to buy (so there). i’ve got three toy storage pieces  tagged as favorites and just have to choose one. i’ve decided that round door handles, versus the long kinda curved ones will be best for the new doors. there’s a really cute rug at target for jackson’s new room but I’m going to hold off buying it because i think ikea might have cuter, cheaper ones. i want a neutral, light color for the walls in the nursery but don’t like yellow. maybe a cool shade of green? good idea.

did i just humor myself? convenient, efficient and without protest. not too shabby.

keep your fingers crossed for the speedy erection of our bedroom walls, our sanity, our marriage, and my decorating skillz. will have an update and some pictures to share soon.

 

 

 

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July 22nd, 2009

pale ‘o piss

we have acquired (on loan) a commode. it has been an endless source of humor, giggles, and you’ve-got-to-be-kidding-me moments in the blood household. and it dawned on me, while writing about pregnancy woes in my last blog, that keeping these commode stories for us and us alone would be almost criminal.

 

per freedictionary.com: com·mode  (k -m d )

n.

1. A low cabinet or chest of drawers, often elaborately decorated and usually standing on legs or short feet. (yes, kinda)

2.

a. A movable stand or cupboard containing a washbowl. (yes)

b. A chair enclosing a chamber pot. (bingo!)

c. A toilet. (ah, yes)

3. A woman’s ornate headdress, fashionable around 1700. (scratch this one)

 

my aunt and uncle graciously and thoughtfully loaned me their antique commode when i was pregnant with jackson. they used it back in the 80′s when they were building their house and didn’t have plumbing. it was spring and justin was gone a lot and i was, well, peeing a lot. the bathroom in our house is on the first floor and my family was concerned about me trooping up and down the stairs, totally unbalanced, in the dark of night, to pee. so i thankfully accepted the commode-on loan. i put it in our bedroom sort of in a corner where it looked more like a small wooden side table than a potty. i even put a plant on top, just for good measure.

 

but each and every time the urge to pee crept in, i could not for the life of me open the top of that commode, plunk my butt down and let it flow. it wasn’t a self conscious thing because justin wasn’t even home many nights. i’m not really sure, to be honest, why it was so hard for me to use it…but i didn’t. i continued, more cautiously now (mostly from fear of my family finding out), to traverse the stairs multiple times a night. well the pregnancy came and went, i never (knock wood) fell down the stairs, and never found a use, besides a plant stand, for the commode.

 

so along comes january and i find myself prego, again. my aunt and uncle come to visit in march bearing gifts; low and behold one of them the trusty commode. once again, i move it to it’s plant holding place near the window in our bedroom where it will remain, unused, until sometime this fall. or so i thought.

 

just about the time my bladder went into overdrive jackson’s nose went into runny, stuffy, keep everyone in the household up all night mode. and of course, as soon as his room was quiet my bladder started to scream. the first few times i crept ever so slowly down the hall and down the stairs; echoes from my steps bouncing off the wood floors and walls like a rubber ball, guaranteed to wake our snuffling toddler. quickly i learned that this was not going to be an option. sleep and staying asleep totally takes precedent and when your kid is not doing either well, you’ll do just about anything.

 

the first  night i used the commode i took the plant off and turned it toward the middle of the room before going to bed.  i opened the lid and fidgeted with the metal pale to ensure it was lined up under the hole. the last thing i needed was squatting on that thing in the pitch black of night, missing the hole altogether and having a steady trickle of pee down my leg and onto the floor. ew.

 

when the urge came a few hours later i made my way across the room, opened the lid, lowered my body down to an awkward height of about two feet and sat down. looking around the room, i could see the lump of justin’s body in our bed, the glow of the street lights penetrating the curtains. and there i sat in the middle of our area rug, pants dropped, atop a wooden potty with total stage fright. you know the feeling you get when it’s really quiet in a public bathroom and you kinda hold it and slowly let it ease out because you’re afraid of how offensive it might sound if you just let it go like you really want to? well that’s where i was.

 

ever so slowly and controlled i let out a little trickle. let me tell you, the sound of pee dropping two feet into a metal bucket is no joke. in fact, it woke justin from a dead sleep and quite possibly our neighbors, for that matter. i can only imagine the thoughts firing through my poor, poor husband’s head as he shot upright: someone had broken into our house and opened fire. there was a massive rain storm, we had a huge hole in our roof, and water was streaming in. probably not, until his eyes adjusted and he could clearly see, would he have guessed it was his pregnant wife peeing in a metal pot at the foot of their bed.  with a still full bladder and panties around my ankles, i shot off the pot to close our bedroom door; if jackson hadn’t woken up already he surely would once i emptied the remaining two gallons from my bladder. besides the crazy loud sound, it really wasn’t that bad once i just let go. only one glitch: hadn’t thought about toilet paper. oh well, i’m from new hampshire,  i’ve been camping and i’ve drip dried many a time in my life. might as well not stop now…

 

to be honest i’m not sure what, if anything, justin said to me as i slid back under the covers. i guess in the last 15 months he’s been witness to more bodily functions and secretions than he ever  imagined existed. however, peeking over the curtain on the operating table a little too soon while your son is being delivered via c-section may have taken the cake…

 

the next morning me along with my pale ‘o piss headed down stairs. kind of a strange feeling emptying it out into the toilet; like i’m a pioneer or living on a homestead or a character in little house on the prairie. except i live on 1/3 of an acre in suburban connecticut, own an suv and an hp laptop and get pedicures. as i went off to work that day i couldn’t help but feel like i wore a sign across my forehead that read, ‘i peed in a metal pot in the middle of my bedroom last night’. wonder if anyone suspected…

 

my nights of commode peeing are ongoing and to be honest, it’s really quite convenient (except for the emptying/cleaning daily thing). hopefully, i’ll be able to break my love-affair after the baby comes. i guess it won’t really be too cool if i’m still using it at that point. to be honest, i keep thinking i’m going to come upstairs one of these mornings and see justin sitting on it with his coffee cup and laptop. i should really start carrying my camera at all times, just in case.

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July 20th, 2009

the finish line

it’s been a long time since i’ve written about  the joys of pregnancy and considering i’ve been pregnant for 16 out of the last 24 months (yes, seriously) i thought it was about time. the funny thing is this time round i really haven’t had the urge to vent, chronicle or freak out about the fascinating, horrifying, amazing or down right bizarre nuances of baby brewing. it’s probably because, let’s be honest, it just happened the first time a few months ago, and i’ve got a trillion other things vying for attention and space in my already too-cramped head.

it’s been kind of an on-going joke with friends and family that this poor baby is so not getting the attention, albeit in utero, that jackson did. what names do you have picked out? they ask. um, right. a name. ah, we’re still working on that. how far along are you? they ask. 30 weeks? wait, no, more like 32 wks? ah, i’m due in early september, i resort to.

i’m really hoping that i’m just much more laid back this time around. it’s either that or i’m in serious shock and denial and need to get professional help STAT. i guess i take comfort in knowing that as long as this baby has a few articles of clothing (check), a place to sleep (working on it) and a boob or two (check, check) we’ll all be good to go.  and honestly, i’m getting really excited. i’ve been looking through old (does 9 months count as old?) pictures of jackson and some video of those first few months. it’s crazy how i can barely remember those days. why is that?  seeing his little body, without vocals, and with those wide smokey blue eyes made me melt and cringe all at once. holy shit. are we really doing this all over again? sweet mutha.

yesterday someone asked me how it was possible that i still had 8 weeks to go. how do you answer that question? yes, i do and thanks for noticing that i’m apparently humongous and swollen and look like i’ve been keeping every fast food restaurant from here to new hampshire thriving? my actual retort: i know! i’m going to be really big, huh? guess i just make some big ‘ol babies. smile. bitch.

but the reality is she’s right. i’m pretty damn huge. and it’s weird because it came out of nowhere. for the first several months i was ‘measuring small’ or at the least right on track. with jackson i was always huge and he was always measuring 2-3 weeks ahead. i did also eat about a pound of mac and cheese and bread and ice cream every day for the first 3 months with jackson and barely got off the couch. that may have aided slightly in the large momma, large baby scenario we had going. but this time, i’ve been on the run. it’s been warmer and my appetite hasn’t been as big. don’t get me wrong, i still eat half the box of annie’s when i make it for jackson, pick up a gallon of cookie dough and cool whip every week ‘for justin’ and have been known to stop by ‘ron’s cafe’ (my friend mary’s secret code for mcdonalds) for fries and a shake at least once a month. so last week when the nurse at my dr’s office measured my belly at 34 cm and my baby at 31 wks (they’re supposed to be the same) i knew my suspicions were true: this little bugger is growing and growing fast.

this baby is sitting much lower than jackson did which makes me much more uncomfortable and awkward and i am totally convinced, much less cute. instead of a round little basket ball up near my boobs i have a large egg teetering precariously close to my who-ha. see, not so cute. and my belly button doesn’t pop (didn’t the first time either) so i have the fat guy syndrome of a large dent where my button is. supernot cute for tight, belly exposing shirts. but beyond the cuteness factor, because really that is sooo not important at this stage in the game (or should it be?) is the comfort issue. at night i have to sleep with pillows between my knees and wake up every hour because it feels like the baby is balling my bladder up with his/her tiny fists. i don’t want to go downstairs to pee because our house is so damn squeeky that the long, noisy trek would surely wake jackson….which brings up another hysterical blog topic ‘my cammode’….stay tuned for that one…

i’ve got T minus 7 weeks and counting AND trust me i’m counting. amazingly i am still wearing my wedding rings and actually have a definable knee, calf and ankle. but this could all change at any moment. the stage where i can press on the top of my foot and leave an indent is quickly approaching. cankles will be my middle name,  my eyes will become small barely visable creases and my nose (according to my friend danielle) will get really big. so what i’m saying is that in a matter of days i am going to look really, really sexy. maybe even unrecognizably so. even my husband who rarely agrees or admits to my ‘off day’ or bad picture (why do i always think of that snickers commercial when i reference husbands and beauty comments?) says that the last few weeks of pregnancy #1 were a little scary. at least he tell me now, after the fact, because lord knows i would have seriously lost it getting that kind of info during the fact.

so as i’m nearing  d-day and my days of peeing regularly and sleeping without props are almost within reach, here is a list of the things i can NOT wait for:

  • taking a deep breath
  • not having to ask justin to shave my bikini area
  • my favorite jeans
  • spending my gift card from anthroplogie
  • sex without a bulging, kicking belly
  • cocktails
  • heels
  • regaining visual from belly button to mid thigh
  • regularity
  • my hair to start growing again
  • cocktails
  • cocktails
  • walking  any long-ish distance without fear of birthing a baby right then, right there
  • spinning (exercise in general, really)
  • holding jackson and being able to snuggle him close
  • moving quickly
  • not applying a million layers of creams and lotions to every inch of my skin
  • burning the baby name book
  • giving away all of my hideous pants with big stretchy waist bands
  • watching the scale rise and rise and rise
  •  no swelling
  • fewer migraines
  • milk boobs

and a list of things, i will greatly miss:

  • baby kicks and movements
  • the unknown of what lies beneath the freckly skin of my belly
  • eating ice cream nightly
  • propping things on my built in belly shelf
  • the unexplainable feeling of creating and carrying another life
  • an excuse to wear flip flops 24/7
  • devoting all of my attention and love to jackson
  • the pride of pregnancy
  • ewwws and ahhhhs from random people everywhere
  • free swedish fish from the vending machine man
  • en utero hiccups

this pregnancy has absolutely flown by. and although half of me is wishing it away an equal part is wishing it to stay. not only because the thought of two children right now is totally and utterly overwhelming but becuase this is most likely the last time i’ll ever be pregnant. and even though, honestly, neither pregnancy experience has been exactly what i envisioned it years ago, both have been truly special and miraculous. i wonder if justin’s sperm is super charged or if my eggs truly release like semi-automatic weapons. either way, it’s gotta be one of the two that brought us to this place; knocked up, scared shitless, extremely blessed, oozing with pride, totally grateful, clinically insane and totally happy.

 

Categorybirth, breast feeding, loosing it, marriage, pregnancy, sleep, Uncategorized | Comment4 Comments »

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July 13th, 2009

daddy-loving boy

i need to get a new book on the developmental stages of toddlers. i have a few that touch on them, but nothing that has really delved into the everyday nuances like i need (any suggestions?).  it has been really interesting to watch jackson’sinterest level in mom vs. dad over the last several months…obviously his closeness and ‘need’ for me was really strong when i was nursing him and actually continued on for months after. i remember the time (although it is fading quickly) when only momma would do.  only momma could provide the best hug, the cuddliest embrace and the remedy for any and all ailments. i vividly remember justin leaving for a week in march; i was so nervous that when he returned jackson wouldn’t really notice or seem care that he was back and justin would be hurt. when justin walked in jackson was napping but had just started to stir. he went upstairs to get him (almost before acknowledging me or taking his shoes off, thank you very much) and when they came down it was the sweetest, most heart warming sight. jackson would not loosen his grasp from around justin’s neck. he clung to him with all his might, then pulled back to look him in the face with a BIG smile then back to the choke hold. it was so clear what he was saying: dad is that reallyyou? oohhh, i missed you! both of my boys were beaming and i was super relieved and unbelievably touched by their love.

somewhere in the last 4 weeks or so this momma obsession has slowly lessened and in it’s wake has come forth the strongest, most infatuated love affair for a daddy that i’ve seen. as soon as justin walks through the door, i’m total chopped liver. jackson follows him around the house with his arms up until justin reaches down for him. i might be standing right there too, but i might as well be a picture on the wall. when we went on vacation last week it was the first time in several months that the three of us had been together 24/7 for over a week straight. and because justin is the thoughtful, stand-up guy that he is (smile) he took on a lot of the jackson-ing. from feedings at 4am and rising at 6am to playing on the beach and in the house while i slept til 7, sunbathed and twighlighted he was super dad. and the already there preference for daddy grew and deepened. let me say that this doesn’t make me jealous, mad or sad in the least. honestly. i have never once watched my son and my husband and wished anything different. and trust me, i wasn’t sure that would always be the case: because i think it’s more common than not for one parent to feel either jealous, or neglected, or unimportant when children come onto the scene…guess we’ve just managed (so far) to keep our obsession with our son and our obsession with each other separately strong?

this morning  justin was mowing the lawn (with our neighbors mower (thank you joe) because ours, which we got free from the dump 2 years ago (don’t ask), has started sputtering and smoking and smelling like a boat (kinda yucky but equally satisfying in that bring you back to the summers of your childhood way) and jackson and i were upstairs getting ready to go to the grocery store. not that pinning a 14 month old down to change his clothes is ever easy, but today was especially hard because the sound of the mower was resonating through our house reminding  jackson of one thing: his dad was not here, but out there.  so i stood him on his toy shelf and let him watch  justin out the window…

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i’m sure that soon enough his obsession with momma will be back in full swing but until then he’s a daddy-loving boy . kinda like the puppy loving pigeon (hilarious, must read: or so i think but not everyone gets the humor).  what about you momma’s reading? have you noticed a serious swing in the parent  infatuation with your little one(s)? do you think there’s a difference in parent/kiddo relationships  between SAHM’s or SAHD’s (stay at home mom/dad) and those who work outside the house? let’s just chalk it up with one of the many things we can commiserate about, right? drop me a message, hannah@tothemoonnback.net, or leave a comment here; i’d love to hear your thoughts and experiences. and if there’s a good book, or website, out there that’s helped you tap into your toddler’s little noggin, please share.

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