A quiet lull

We've entered a quiet spot after all of the "excitement" from the kids' birthday parties. There hasn't been much to report in the past week but let's see what kind of boring info I can pull out of my life to fill up an entry here.

Megan continues to complain about the extension program that she goes to twice a week, before and after school. There's really no particular reason for her becoming so upset...just Megan being Megan. Originally she said that it was because she missed me. Now she's turned it into, "the other Mommy's pick up the kids early, but you never do." (Thanks for the guilt trip kiddo.) It has gotten so bad that she went to bed Tuesday night at 8pm and when I went up at 9pm, I found her laying in bed sobbing about going to extension on FRIDAY!! There really doesn't seem to be a way that I can get it into her head that this is nothing in the grand scheme of things. She goes 2x's a week and it's only until the end of May, or whenever this kid pops out of me. I guess to a 5 year old, two months can seem like an eternity.

Matt is still being Matt - a happy little kid with the occassional bad mood or attempt at a temper tantrum thrown into the mix. His most recent funny comment was when we were discussing the baby in Mommy's tummy and he proceeded to tell me that the baby was going to "jump out" of my tummy. Lordy child - if only it were that easy. Of course Bill laughs and says that for me, it is that easy. He claims that they just slide right out. Nice try Bill - weren't you there for the first two? Has the past 3 years erased the memory of me stating to the mid-wife, "just get it out of me" in my best exorcist voice?

And with 10 more weeks to go, I've now gained a total of 19lbs. Depending upon how the next few weeks go, I may simply bump that figure up an additional 10lbs to make up for the weight that I never really lost from Matt. I'm entitled to do so if I choose, right?

Those 19lbs are quite deceiving though. I swear my stomach is as big as it was towards the end of both pregnancies when I gained 40lbs and 42lbs respectively. My belly button has flattened out and the upper portion juts out just enough to look like I have some sort of crazy overbite action going on down there. It really is a nice look to have that odd looking bump under your shirt. On a slightly more personal note, due to my girth, I can no longer see beneath my belly to take care of my necessary "grooming" needs. It's all hit or miss from here on out!

And one other question for anyone who cares to comment...with Easter only a little over a week away, I've not done any shopping for it yet. Bill noted the other evening that we have candy left over from both Halloween and Valentines Day and that we should eat it before we have Easter candy to pile on top of that. My thought was that we should simply unwrap the items such as the sweet tarts, etc. in order to remove the outdated holiday wrappings and simply place the candy into the kids' baskets. Hey it'll save us the money (not to mention additional left overs) and the kids are still young enough to not know that you should be getting bunny shaped sweet tarts for Easter and not hearts, right!? Am I wrong?

See how innocent and naive they look? Ok - this was from Easter of 2006, but still...

Another Red Sox fan

This morning, Matthew crawled into bed next to me as he usually does. After I had pushed the limits on our morning "snuggle" I asked him if he wanted to watch cartoons while I took a shower. There are times when he'll decline as he tends to end up playing in the bathroom while he waits for me to finish. But this morning he agreed and so I clicked on the television and proceeded to change the channel to look for Jay-Jay or Jo-Jo or The Wiggles...something.

No sooner had I done this when Matt immediately reprimanded me. "No Mommy! I want to watch Red Sox!"

Well sure enough, when Bill had gone to sleep the night before, he had tuned in to NESN and their morning broadcast was shots from their spring training games down in FL. So good job Daddy - you've created yet another true Red Sox fan in the Baker family!

Happy Birthday Megan!

It seems like only a short time ago, Bill and I began our family together. In reality, the five years that have passed since then have just flown by.

Megan loves to hear stories about the day she was born. With the new baby on the way and her birthday here now, it seems as though we talk about "her day" more and more often. So in honor of her fifth birthday, I'll do what she loves the most and tell the story about the day she was born...

The first indication that she was on her way was when I awoke on the morning of 3/18. I stumbled down the stairs around 6am in a sleep induced stupor and I remember being distinctly irritated that "I had to pee for the 3rd time that night!!" Although I don't remember if I really did have to pee or not, I do remember sitting in the bathroom and looking slightly confused at the mess I had made on the bathroom floor.

Although I knew better, every movie I had ever watched made me believe that when my water broke, I would automatically be thrown into the woes of labor. Not the case of course, but the lack of any pain or even twinges confused me even more when I stared at the puddle.

I quietly and calmly called to Bill from my "perch", knowing he would still be sleeping and not wanting him to hear my cry and think that something was wrong. Although I thought I sounded calm, his frenzied stumble down the stairs indicated otherwise. When I asked him what he thought of the mess on the floor, he looked at me like I was nuts and told me either my water broke or I managed to pee all over the bathroom floor. Together we decided that I had not lost control of my bodily functions and after cleaning up the mess we crawled back into bed together and for the next two hours,before I could call the doctor or my office, we discussed how things were finally happening.

I waited all day long for something...anything...to happen. Nothing. I made sure I ate small'ish meals because I had this fear of eating too much and pooping during labor. (Nice I know - but give me a break - it happens!) I finally decided to crawl into bed around 10pm that night in order to get some sleep for what I "knew" would be a long and difficult labor. I mean c'mon...the books tell you everything you need to know (ha ha) and since this was my first kid...surely I was in for a long painful event.

The contractions started shortly after I dozed off and finally around 12:30am, I called the doctor to let them know I was in labor. Early labor of course because I was definitely not in much pain. While speaking to a doctor I had not yet met in the practice of many doctors and mid-wives, I of course was asked the usual questions about strength of pain, length of contractions, could I talk through them and was this my first child. I was told I had long way to go. (Thanks for the insight Doc - I already knew that!)

Around 2:30am I was pacing the bedroom floor and I convinced Bill to place the call to the doctor this time as I knew I would just back down if asked the same dumb questions over again. But all I wanted at this point was for someone - anyone - who knew what was going on, to tell me how I was doing. Maybe my pain threshold was extremely low and these contractions were nothing, therefore I was doing great. Maybe it was extremely high and I was on the verge of giving birth but didn't even know it! I had no idea and I remember hating that feeling of the unknown.

Thankfully, Bill convinced the doctor to let us come in to the hospital to be checked out. Not wanting to jump the gun and rush right in, I decided to take a hot shower first. Waste some more time...help the contractions which were killing my back at this point...anything...

We finally got into the hospital around 4:30am, I was checked out and told that I was not dilated at all. Interesting...how could I be going through this pain for nothing...no results what-so-ever? I was told to either go home or even out for breakfast as we were scheduled to be back at the hospital at 7:30am for a planned induction due to my water breaking 24 hours prior.

Sure! Just what I wanted to do - go sit in a restaurant while trying to contain the fact that I was in labor. But we politely left the hospital and headed back home where I spent the next hour on the couch while Bill went in search of a heating pad for my back.

At 6:30am, Bill pulled me off the couch and advised me we were waiting no longer - he was taking me back to the hospital early. Good thing too - I had a contraction on the couch, walked to the front door and had another. Yep - they were less than a minute a part but I had not been keeping track for a while so I really had no idea.

We arrive at the hospital, I was sent to a room to change, I crawled up on the bed and was examined and to my surprise was told that I could start pushing on the next contraction. THANK YOU GOD!

Megan was born about 30 minutes later, crying all the way. She stopped long enough for me to nurse her and then started back up again. I sent her back to the nursery at night time with the instructions to give her a bottle if she would take it, otherwise bring her back to me and I would nurse her. (Best advice I ever received, by the way!) This was in order for me to get what would turn out to be my last two nights of decent sleep for years to come. I remember asking the nurse the next morning how she made out the night before and she responded by saying that Megan was quite verbal.

And she's consistent - that's for sure, as she's pretty much kept this routine up for the past five years.

So happy birthday Megan! Mommy, Daddy, Bryan and Matthew love you very much. You are a wonderful little girl, a beautiful daughter, a great little sister and an even better big sister. Hugs and kisses from all of us!!

Another day, another party...

Sunday, 3/18, was the unofficial "kick-off" to Megan's birthday celebration. With the help of her cousins (Jackie, Nikole and McKenzie), Grandma, Nanie and Aunt Alicia, we all met up at Build-A-Bear and the kids picked out their new stuffed friends.

From there we headed over to have lunch at the Rainforest Cafe. What a crazy mess! Me, being the procrastinator that I am, did not call ahead to make reservations. I naively assumed that if we checked with them upon arriving at the mall, we would be able to get a table an hour later for all 10 of us. Nice try Lisa - there were about 15 other PLANNED birthday parties that took priority. So although we were able to make a reservation for an hour and 15 minutes after our arrival, which allowed plenty of time at Build-A-Bear, unfortunately we were stuck at separate tables. By the time we were done, how Jackie and I were the only ones that left the place with headaches, is beyond me. There's only one other place now that I dread attending a birthday party more - Chuck E. Cheese's! Oh, the things we do for our kids.

When we finished up there, we headed back to the house for ice cream cake (which made it all better - along with Tylenol of course), coffee and presents.

Terrible Two's - Yeah right!

All that I really need to say in order to sum up this entry is that the terrible two's are a myth in the Baker family. That's right - for us it's the terrible three's. And for Matt, well his birthday must have been the exact notification for him that it was time to break us in. I think I've spent more time yelling and reprimanding him in the past week than I have in the past year.

The guilt then creeps in when I look at that little loving face. He's just so damned charming when he wants to be. Of course it could be that I'm feeling pretty sleep deprived these days from the time change, the growing belly that only allows me two comfortable positions throughout the night, as well as the kicking (both the baby and me kicking Bill so he stops snoring - ha ha). But whatever it is, it's all adding up to one Mommy who snaps a little too quickly these days.

I know, it's called restraint Lisa! But at this rate, you might just see our family soon on an upcoming episode of Super Nanny!

The birthdays that last all month long...

Thanks to having birthdays that are practically on top of one another (3/7 and 3/19), along with family that is scattered all over, Megan and Matt generally get to celebrate their birthdays for the entire month of March.

This year the celebration started when Aunt Chris came up from TN to visit and brought gifts for both of them on 3/3. Then Matt celebrated at the babysitters on 3/6 with gifts and cupcakes followed by his actual birthday celebration at home the next day, 3/7. Then Sunday, 3/11 rolled around and we planned an afternoon with family at the St. Patty's Day Parade, followed by dinner and more birthday celebrating at Aunt Alicia's.

The kid's rode with Grandma to Aunt Alicia's house with Bill and I following behind later as we were hunting down Bryan at the other end of the parade (who was with the new woman in his life, by the way). No sooner did we walk through the door when a flash of color went zipping past my legs and dove directly into the presents that were stacked by the front door. That flash, was Matt, who had waited patiently for us to arrive, but would wait no longer. He made out like a bandit, coming away with a ton of loot from Aunt Alicia and Uncle Bill, cousin Jackie, Grandma and Nanie. And the partying won't stop here. We've got Megan's birthday party at Build-A-Bear and The Rainforest Cafe on Sunday, 3/18, her celebration at home with Mom and Dad on Monday, 3/19 and of course Grammie and Pap-Pap have to fit into the equation somewhere after their return from FL. This year's celebration might just run into the month of April yet! (Well now I'm feeling a bit guilty. What will the baby think when it gets one measly day to celebrate every year. Poor kid!)

Ear piercing and child abuse...they really can go hand in hand

Megan is definitely a "girly-girl" in every way possible. Although I had wanted to get her ears pierced when she was younger, Bill was against the idea. Ultimately, I really didn't care one or another and so we mutually agreed that we would wait until she wanted to get them done.

As she has gotten older, she has continued to show an interest in all things girly and of course, earrings were a part of that. For more than a year now, we have asked her if she wanted to get her ears pierced and she has always been adamant that she didn't want to. She would explain to us that it was because it would hurt, although we were never quite sure where or how she figured that one out as we refused to scare her with any "stories" of ear piercing.

The way the story would usually unfold is that we would make our regular trips to the mall, Megan would inevitably check out the earrings in the piercing pagoda's and other boutiques, but would ultimately end up deciding against going through with the piercing...until this past week. Something changed, and I have no idea what it was, but she suddenly decided that she might actually go through with this.

We were already planning a trip to the mall to purchase some birthday gifts, so I told her we could buy the gifts and get her ears pierced while there too. I tucked her into bed Friday night with her stating, "Mommy, I'll probably get my ears pierced tomorrow...or I probably won't."

I thought for sure that she would continue on this rollercoaster, but the morning rolled around and the first thing she said when she crawled into bed next to me was that she was getting her ears pierced that day. Not wanting to scare her or make her feel pressured in any way, we simply let that particular topic roll in any direction she chose to take it, thinking that she would flip flop back and forth in her decision and would again end up not going through with it. Boy were we wrong.

As soon as I gave her the indication that we were heading in the direction of the "earring store", she marched right in, picked out her earrings in 10 seconds flat, hopped into the chair and was ready to roll without a moments hesitation. We had asked the store clerk upon arrival if it was possible to do both ears at once but unfortunately in order to do so we would have had to wait until 1:30pm...it was 10am...we were not waiting. So on we marched...

The clerk was fantastic, talking to Megan the entire time, telling her what she was doing with the antiseptic, the purple pen to mark the spots and letting her look in the mirror when that was complete. Out came the "gun"...and Megan never flinched...until "SNAP". The first ear was done, the crying began................................................and didn't stop for at least 30 minutes.

We tried reasoning with her, bribing her, sweet talking her...you name it and it was tried. She kept telling us that her ear was hurting. And even though we knew she was laying the drama on us thick, we felt bad and tried being patient with the hopes that she would eventually get past this.

Bill grew so frustrated that he was getting pretty snarky with me and finally had to walk out of the store with Matt just to get away from her. The clerk took some time to take care of some other customers and that's when I threw in a last ditch attempt. The "mean Mommy voice". The "I've had enough - this is ridiculous - stop telling me it hurts because I know it's not true any longer" voice. And throughout it all, she continued to chant the same response, "I just need another minute". Or a variation of it such as, "...sob, sob....in another minute...sob".

Finally, with the store clerk probably thinking we were the absolute worst parents ever - and to be honest, I pretty much agreed with her at this point, we convinced her to go through with the remaining ear. And by convinced, I mean - Bill held her legs and torso, while I held her upper arms and put her in a head lock so that the clerk could zap in that final earring.

Less than two minutes later, she hands me the little cotton ball with antiseptic that she had been gingerly applying to her ear and says, "it doesn't hurt anymore Mommy. Can I call Aunt Alicia and Grandma to tell them?"

OH THE DRAMA OF IT ALL!!!

Happy Birthday "Baby"

Yesterday was Matt's 3rd birthday and as Bill advised me , he almost didn't make it through the day.

On Wednesday's, Bill works from home and of course Matt is there driving him up the wall all day long. I received a phone call here at work around 10:30am and Bill wanted to know what time Matt was born.

"Wasn't Matt born around 1:30 in the afternoon?" Bill asks.

"No, I went into labor around 2'ish and he was born at 5:30pm." I told him.

"So he won't actually turn 3 until much later today. His odds of making it to that point are growing slim," was Bill's reply.

As it turns out, Matt decided to let the body functions flow yesterday with two accidents in his pants. The third incident took place in the bathroom (yes, he made it there that time) but when Bill came across him, Matt was attempting to clean things up himself, resulting in...well let's just say smears everywhere. (Refer back to an earlier post about his potty training habits and you'll know what I mean.)

Bill also allowed Matt to pick out his own birthday cake this year. Let's just say that this was a pretty ugly cake but Matt thought it was the best thing ever. A green smiley face (for St. Patrick's Day I suppose), black eyes and mouth and red lettering. Not very attractive - but I must admit, rather yummy!

So Matt did indeed make it through his 3rd birthday but bedtime came a little early as he was wound up pretty tight and both Bill and I had about all that we could handle by around 7:45pm. And we'll be doing it all over again on Sunday for his party which will consist of the St. Patrick's Day Parade (think we can convince him it's a parade just for him?) followed by dinner and celebrating (a.k.a. spoiling from Aunt Alicia and Grandma) with the family.

A remote control backhoe - with sounds of course!

A scooter -which says it's for 8 years and up. Ah, who cares, he can ride it better than most 8 year olds!