Introducing...

...Robert Paul Baker... born 6/12/07 at 4:28pm
...8lbs 8oz - 20 1/4" long

Last Tuesday I woke up around 4am with some "cramping". Nothing more and since I had experienced this two weeks earlier I managed to to not get overly excited about this. Around 5am I began keeping track of them and found that they were coming on every 10-15 minutes.

At 6am, when it was time for Bill to get up for work I told him what I had been experiencing for the past 2 hours but also noted that it had been over 20 minutes since the last one had hit. He got up and showered and when he was done I still had not had any further "cramping". My initial thought was, "here we go again...false labor!" So off to work he went and back to sleep for me.

At 8am I was woken up by a nice little contraction and the sound of the kids running around downstairs. So I got up and decided to start the day. And this time the contractions, although still only slightly more painful than cramping, were coming at an even 10 minutes. Bill had already decided that he would work for a while at the office and would be home before noon unless I notified him otherwise so I gave him a call to give him the latest update. He decided to finish up what he was doing and head back home.

When Bill arrived sometime after 10am the contractions had dwindled once again. So off we all went for a few laps around the block with the hopes that it might trigger labor to begin again. Unfortunately it seemed that our attempts were futile at this point.

Around 1pm we put the kids down for naps and I snoozed off and on downstairs in the living room while whining the entire time about how this child was never going to come out and that I had no idea what I could do to alter things. And then somewhere in the midst of my complaining they began again. This time they were worth noting and so we began to keep track of them...12 minutes...10 minutes and so on.

Finally, around 2:45pm we decided to get the kids up and drop them off at our friends' in Hamden where we would also wait things out. This would put us 10 minutes from the hospital as opposed to the 30 minutes from our home.

By 3pm we were packing up the car when I noted to Bill that they were suddenly becoming much stronger and were now coming every 5 minutes. So we placed the call to the Doctor's office and we were told to come in to their office for a quick exam.

We were less than 2 miles down the road when the contractions were coming every 3 minutes and the rush began. We made alternate plans for Bill's Mom to meet us at the doctor's office and take the kids to our friends'.

When we arrived at the doctor's office and informed them the contractions were coming every 3 minutes, I was rushed in for the fastest exam ever. I was told that I was 8 centimeters dilated and fully efaced and if I left the office that minute we would still be able to make it to the hospital and that they would be calling in my arrival ahead of time.

We must have hit every red light and school bus on the way to the hospital. We arrived at 4pm, wheelchair waiting for me at the curb and off we went. But even the elevators would not cooperate...so off we went to faster elevators. (Why we didn't head that direction in the first place is beyond me.)

From that point I had just enough time to change into a hospital gown and for them to break my water before we began pushing. And I thank God it went fast because honestly, no matter how many kids you have, no matter what size they end up being...they all hurt like hell coming out with no pain relief! But the end result is so worth every last minute of pain. Just look at the beautiful family we've created!

You're still here?

If I had a dollar for every time I've heard that, well I wouldn't be rich, but it sure as hell feels like I would be.

But yes, I'm still here...sitting at work...willing my cervix to dilate...wishing for painful contractions... Anything at this point would be better than where I am now. The worst part of it all is not that I'm uncomfortable and miserable physically. I'm just emotionally "pissed off" and impatient. I'm only 1 day past my due date and yet it feels like an eternity. Most likely because Mom and Dad made it up here early this time and now they are sitting and waiting......and waiting..........and waiting........and I can't do anything to control this or speed things up.

So with every little twinge, cramp and braxton hicks contraction that comes across my body, a little part of me gets excited that perhaps "this is it"! And then as it passes and fails to return within that nice little 10-15 minute time frame that contractions begin to fall into, I grow a bit more insane.

What could'a been an eventful weekend turned into...yawn...

The kids were gone Friday AND Saturday night. Let me repeat the AND portion of that sentence. Bill and I took advantage of the quiet evening on Friday and headed out to dinner together. There was a lot of baby talk of course and I don't mean the sickening sweet baby talk of new lovers. We talked about the kids, about the 3rd/4th on the way, about how I'm apprehensive once again and how it could happen "any time now". That seems to be my standard response when asked when I'm due..."any time now"...

After dinner we headed home and my comfy bed along with my need for sleep called for me. Bill, on the other hand, heard the Red Sox calling his name that evening. And with the rain delay that he patiently waited out, he fell asleep on the couch, coming up to bed around 3:30AM. (And might I add what a blissful sleep I had during those 5 hours of non-snoring, no bed sharing required hours.

Shortly after he came up stairs, I became a bit "crampy" and I remember falling back to sleep thinking about how I haven't experienced that feeling in 9 months now. A little after 4AM I awoke to my first contraction. No, nothing painful, just a nice tightening of the stomach, but along with that same crampy feeling from earlier that had not yet disappeared. I drifted in/out of sleep while the contractions came about 15 minute intervals. Never increasing in intensity but certainly enough to make me feel excited about what was surely somewhere on the horizon.

Sometime after 6AM, I noticed that Bill had woken up and I explained to him what I had been going through for the past 2 hours. As we were both still more interested in sleeping, we let it go at that and drifted back to sleep.

The alarm went off at 8AM and although the crampiness had not subsided, I had not had any further contractions since around that 6:30AM time period. So we debated whether or not Bill should go to Bryan's baseball games that day and concluded with the stand-by of "don't leave the cell phone behind for anything." I assured him I would call at the first sign of any commotion but that if things remained the same, I was heading out to my hair appointment at 10:30AM anyhow...so why sit around the house and wait for what may or may not come.

As it turns out...what may never came. I napped for at least 3 hours in the afternoon and the day passed by with only minor discomfort on my part as those cramps never went away until the evening hours.

By the time I crawled into bed that evening, I felt as good as new. And have continued to feel that way ever since. The only irritation being the heat which Bill alleviated by turning on the A/C in the TV room for me.

So no further signs of a baby and at this rate, this will be the kid that 18 years from now refuses to leave home...just like it's refusing to leave my womb!

I'm still here

Need I say more? Ok - I will, because I feel the need to elaborate.

I feel great - pregnancy wise. As for the cold that has come upon me and has instilled it's death grip on my head this past week? Well it's simply kicking my fat ass right now! I crawled into bed at 8:30pm last night and would have been much happier had it been 6:30pm instead. And for those of you who know me (night owl) know that I must be feeling pretty darn crappy to have gone to bed that early.

I got up at 10:30pm (yes - I had to pee already) and was feeling all exhausted, crampy and just nasty overall and I remember thinking that if I was going into labor that God must really hate me. There was no way that I would have had enough energy at that point to push a baby out of my cooch feeling the way that I did then.

Today is a little better. And now the kids are off with Aunt Alicia for 2 WHOLE NIGHTS!!! So I figure I've got a few options. I can:

• Catch up on my sleep
• Get romantic with my husband and hopefully kick start labor
• Catch up on my sleep
• Put the crib together
• Catch up on my sleep
• Clean the house (maybe strenuous vacuuming will bring on labor!!)
• Catch up on my sleep

Oh well - no matter what I choose to do, this kid is coming out whenever it's ready and there's really not much I can do about it. But as another expectant mother said to her unborn child the other day, "This due date thing...it's just a suggestion really. You can come out at any time. Really. Any time. NOW!"

Baby #3 update...

As of 1pm - Wednesday, May 23rd - 1 centimeter dilated and 70% efaced...

WOO-HOO! Got some movement going on down there. Granted, it could be another week before the kid makes it's grand debut, but I'm holding out hope for some time during the long Memorial Day weekend.

Stay tuned!

Mother's Day

This Mother's Day was by far the best one ever! The kids are at the perfect age where we no longer need to prompt them to say or do things and in my eyes, that's the best. Megan convinced her Aunt Alicia to buy a gift for me the week before at the dollar store and she had been patiently waiting all week long to give it to me. She also reminded me on a daily basis leading up to it that I was "not allowed to look inside". I didn't have the heart to tell her that Matt told me what it was the day that they brought it home. (So much for keeping secrets when he's involved!)

Sunday rolled around beautiful and sunny. Megan and Matt woke up, came into our room and the first thing that they said was "Happy Mother's Day". Then they both dragged Daddy out of bed so they could get my presents. After opening up their gift of a teddy bear tucked into a rose coffee mug, a handmade gift that Megan had made at school, and a beautiful eternity diamond necklace from Daddy (combo Mother's Day/anniversary gift), the kids went off to play in Megan's room while we lounged in bed. A little later, Bill got up with the kids and fed them breakfast while I took my time showering, shaving and general grooming in peace!!! No interruptions!!

The afternoon was spent at Nanie's and with the Cole side of the family where Matt practiced skate boarding with his cousin...

Father/Daughter Dance

Where do I begin? I've definitely fallen behind this past week and at this point I need to catch up on a couple of events. The first one is the Father/Daughter dance which took place on 5/11 (told you I'm behind) and was pretty much the event of the school year for Megan. She had been looking forward to it for some time and knew exactly where it fell on the calendar she marks off.

A few days prior, we decided to try on some dresses that she had in her closet. Of course the one that she loved the most was the one that both Bill and I liked the least. So the very next day we headed out to Marshalls to find a bargain dress. And what a bargain it turned out to be! $12.99 later we headed home with the pink dress that she fell in love with.

The next day...Bill calls to tell me that it is torn, which probably explains why the bow was tied around the front of the dress and not the back (I'm brilliant about noticing those smaller details - ha). So off I go to another Marshalls close to work. And what do I find? The same dress for $11.00!!! (Do you think we'll be able to get away with paying $11.00 for a prom dress in another 10 years?)

So it turned out to be a successful 'mini-prom' night and Megan was ecstatic to have a date with her Daddy. Here are the pics from that evening...

It looks like Grandpa's lips...

Funny and unusual things that the kids say or have said in the past:

Gubble-gum (Matt, referring to bubblegum)

Nuse - pronounced n'yuse (Megan and Matt both said this instead of 'use'. Still trying to break Matt of the habit.)

"I love my Pap-Pap. I pull his pants down." (Matt, after spending a week with Pap-Pap and Grammie here in CT during which time he de-pantsed my Dad whose was wearing his PJ's at the time.)

"Grandpa lives in Kevin with Jesus." (Matt, referring to heaven, not Uncle Kevin)

"Hi Uncle Fat Kid. You swimming like Free Willy?" (Matt's opening line when calling to wish Uncle Kevin a happy birthday who was vacationing in FL.)

"The baby will come out of your mouth." (Megan, after catching an accidental glimpse of a c-section on TV and thinking that the incision she saw was someone's mouth.)

"It looks like Grandpa's lips when he was in that bed." (Megan, after looking at my belly button which appears to have a protruding "upper lip". She was referring to Grandpa's lips when she saw him in the casket. And yes, the kids all said it looked like he was getting ready to spit.)

Caterputter and hepicopter (A very young Bryan, referring to caterpillars and helicopters - according to Daddy)

Updates

Let's start with the oldest...Megan...where do I begin with this one. The melodrama + Mommy's raging hormones = a very bad combination. The crying just never ends and I'm right on the verge of joining her for lack of a better solution at this point. I mean, seriously. Just this morning she asked me if the Father/Daughter dance was this evening, to which I responded that no, it was next Friday. And she proceeded to burst into tears. Give me a break already kid! I've never been into the whole "medicating kids" thing, but if her hormones are this bad at the age of 5 - one of us is going to need to be medicated SOON!!!

Then there's Matt. Matt is testing his limits in the talking back department. Just the other night, after a few hours of putting up with his sass, I warned him that any more of it would warrant a slap on the mouth. Ok, so that was like the equivalent of talking to a brick wall...and yes, I popped him on the mouth and the darn kid wasn't phased. Probably because I didn't do it hard at all. Just enough to get his attention. But it must have worked because the talking back stopped. (Well, it was either the pop on the mouth that fixed it or the fact that he was in bed 15 minutes after that.)

He's also getting beat up by a 2 year old at daycare. A girl, I might add. HA! My babysitter tells me that Catherine is feeling her oats too and has been scratching and pinching Matt. She believes it's because they are the same size so of course he's the most logical target for her. Oh well - he'll survive. But in turn, he's also biting and punching 2 of the older kids. I have to be honest and say that I don't really care about this because, well, they are both 5 years old and if they are letting a 3 year old get the best of them, then they deserve it. But also because these are two of the kids that used to beat up on him all the time about a year ago. Back when he didn't know any better to fight back or walk away. Back when Megan told me that these two kids had ganged up on him, beating him with pillows one day. And when I asked what Matthew did in return, she said nothing. That he just laid on the floor while they hit him. And now I want to cry again...because really - he was just a baby for goodness sake!! And yes, I know he's 3 years old now, but c'mon - the kid is still wearing size 18-24 months!!!

And let's not forget baby #3... With a little over 4 weeks to go, they are pretty sure that the baby is in a head down position (thank God!) and I'm up to 27lbs in total weight gain. Yeah for me!!! But you would never know it by looking at me. This stomach sticks out farther than it did the first two times around...clothes are getting tight...and I'm struggling to avoid the waddle. Yep, don't want to succumb to the pregnant duck waddle!!! So 4 of those pounds were added on in just the past two weeks alone but I've been eating healthy. Lots of fruit (pineapples and strawberries this time around) and plenty of ice. Gotta chew on ice...

*Back off Bill - I may have eaten a quart of strawberries in one sitting - on two separate occassions - but they are STRAWBERRIES!! How much damage could they have done?

**Ok, so the first round had sugar added to them. So what!

***And well, last night's round, I ate with the left-over cool-whip.

****And by left-over, I mean left-over from the strawberry shortcake that I had been eating earlier in the week with another quart of strawberries.

*****It's worth mentioning that the shortcake was prepared with Angel Food cake - and we all know that that's low in fat. Right?

Fishing

Megan has been begging to go fishing ever since she watched some fishing show on ESPN one day way back in December. So Daddy promised her that he would take her during the opening weekend of fishing season. About a week prior, we went to Dick's and bought her her very own pink fishing pole and of course Matt jumped on the band wagon too. Although it was probably just so he could get his own pole as well.

The weekend came upon us and it was perfect weather, so after Daddy finished his annual opening morning routine, he took both of the kids out to Wharton Brook State Park for their very first experience. No fish...not that the kids cared. According to Dad, they were more interested in playing with a little boy that they had befriended while there.

Sunday rolled around and since we had Bryan that day too we decided to head down to the river for another round of fishing. Again...no fish...but possibly because each kid lasted for about 5 minutes before they grew bored with it all. But not before I was able to snap some pictures of their first (ok second) experience...

Patiently waiting for Daddy to finish baiting the hooks...

...Matt's idea of waiting patiently...

Future Angler pin-up girl

The Devil at his best

Bored after just a few minutes and aggravated by the sand between his toes...

BEAUTIFUL weekend!!

This past weekend was absolutely gorgeous and we took advantage of every last minute of it. Saturday was opening day of fishing season, so when the alarm went off at 4AM, Bill was out the door for his annual ritual with Uncle Fat Kid.

I, on the other hand, rolled back over and slept until Matt joined me at 7:15AM, followed by Megan 30 minutes later when I finally pried myself off of the mattress. Once I saw (and felt) how warm and beautiful it was, I instantly felt rejuvenated and felt the need to do some spring cleaning...or nesting...haven't quite figured out yet what it was that struck me. So I set the kids loose in the back yard, keeping an eye on them as I began doing laundry, etc.

They started out playing on the deck and from there headed out to the swing set where I watched them running from the middle of the yard and landing on the swings on their tummies, laughing hysterically. All was good...and then I went upstairs to grab some more dirty laundry...and when I looked out the upstairs bathroom window, I saw Matthew...hanging from the middle of the monkey bars...with Megan hollering, "jump down Matthew".

It was like I was frozen on the spot. I knew I couldn't make it down the stairs, through the house and across the back yard fast enough to help him down (and no - not just because I'm weighed down with this gigantic stomach) but because I was afraid to take my eyes off of him for fear that if I left that window, he would fall and I wouldn't have been "watching". Crazy I know - but that was the thought process I went through in those few short moments. My saving grace, or rather Matthew's saving grace, was our old next door neighbor who came running across the back yard in his robe and p.j.'s, all the while yelling, "Hang on Matthew! Don't let go!"

Well he made it there in time and everyone was fine. I, however, went through another crazy thought process before ungluing myself from my post at the window. How do I go down and face my neighbor? An old man, with at least 40 years on me, who managed to make it out of his house (or at least off of his deck) and through the back yard fast enough to save my son, when all I could do was watch. God - I'm a horrible mother. What other mothers allow their 5 and 3 years olds play in the back yard without hovering over them? Was my need to get the cleaning done that great that I couldn't think logically? Can I get away with blaming my pregnancy brain on this one?

Nah - I went with the classic - "Thank you sooooo much John! I heard what was going on but I was going to the bathroom and couldn't get back out here fast enough." Surely implying that I was taking a dump was a good enough excuse. I mean, would he honestly think that I would round up the kids and bring them back inside, just so I could do my business? Yeah - this excuse would have to do...but I guess I'd better come up with something better for the next time when I allow my bad parenting skills to shine through for all to see!!

Baby #3 Update

I've been quietly holding my breath and saying little prayers that all early indications for the wee-one still in utero will wind up being healthy and it appears that I can finally exhale a bit. After numerous visits to Yale for follow-up ultra-sounds, I was given the ok yesterday that this baby should be as normal as possible. Well, at least as normal as a baby with one kidney can be. Ok...at least as normal as a Baker baby with one kidney can be. Because even with both of it's kidneys, it still would have a tough time being "normal" in this family!!

At last months check-up, the remaining kidney was normal in size, but as of yesterday, it had grown a bit more and is now slightly larger than the average sized kidney. And that's a good thing. This will help compensate for the missing one.

Also during my last check-up, the doctor "scanned" me rather quickly to see if I had both of my kidneys, which I do. They wanted to rule out heredity as a cause for this. But because Daddy was not readily available for a quick scan as well, this months check-up included extensive coverage of the heart. Evidently if this was NOT a hereditary issue, the heart could indicate a much larger problem at hand. After viewing the heart from every angle, listening and recording every little beat and watching the blood flow in/out of every ventricle and aorta, baby was given a clean bill of health.

And because the doctor informed me that the diagnosis was "medically conclusive", yesterday was the last chance I got to see my little one before the big day. (Barring anything freaky between now and then of course.) "It" is slightly over 4 lbs. (give or take a 15% margin of error), has a fuzzy head of hair which I have a picture of and since last month has decided to flip flop into a breech position - butt down in a "V". So c'mon baby - do some more flip floppin' into the right position over the next few weeks, because Mommy won't have a kid who won't cooperative before they even exit the womb!!

Easter

Easter is always a fun time for the kids. For Megan, she loves to get dressed up in her new Easter dress. For Matt, he loves that the Easter bunny will be bringing more candy!! And for those inquiring minds that really want to know - yes - I did recycle our left over candy and used it for Easter!! Thank you Karen for the plastic egg reminder. How could I have ever forgotten. And no, the kids were none the wiser about this.

I normally end up with some pretty good pictures of the kids, but I have to say, they must be hitting that akward, dorky, Rag-a-muffin look, must pose with a cheesy smile on my face, stage in their lives because I just couldn't seem to get a good one this year. It didn't help that Matt wanted to stand in a Karate Kid like pose and when I told him to put his leg down, he began to cry because he suddenly had to pee and couldn't stand still. Hmph...so this is what you are stuck with this year!!

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!