Showered with Love

Husband and I were very lucky--we were given two baby showers for our little guy. The first, thrown by the people my husband works with, was earlier this month, and our family shower happened over the holiday weekend.

My husband has a theater management position in the city where we live. Despite the grown-up content of most of the shows the theater puts on, it is a very family friendly atmosphere and a lot of his co-workers have little ones. During the summer months the porch outside the theater building is often full of friends before, during and after the shows, chatting and laughing. But on a Saturday afternoon several weeks ago, the porch was adorned with Pooh Bear decorations and streamers, and the usual adult beverages were replaced with root beer floats and super yummy cake as our good friends gathered to celebrate our baby to be.

Our theater family has been so excited about our little one since we announced the good news back at the Christmas party. And they were so good to us--everyone pitched in and we came home from our shower with our crib and bedding, not to mention adorable onesies and outfits, diapers, and even a pair of itty-bitty baby sunglasses. Our little man already has an abundance of "aunts" and "uncles" who are itching to meet him. Aren't we lucky?

We chose to have our family baby shower over the Memorial Day weekend in the town I grew up in. We were able to plan it so Godmother Doctor was home on a vacation (she only gets two opportunities to come home a year during her residency), and it just happened to fall on my Dad's birthday--which made it all the more special. All of our family came and a good time was had by all at the sports themed tail-gate party. Some highlights included:

• The super yummy football cake
• Oooh-ing and Ahh-ing over the abundance of unbearably cute clothes and toys
• Watching Godfather Engineer assemble the travel system we received from my husband's parents--while all the women in the house "supervised" and offered their opinions
• The "game ball"--a football we had everyone sign for the baby instead of a guest book
• The "Auntie said I could" onesie my husband's sister gave us
• The fantastic "Daddy survival tool belt" Husband recieved from my Godmother--it's so good it's going to get it's own post, so stay tuned
• The amazing amount of diapers we were given
• The adorable diaper cake made by one of my childhood friends--she did it in the colors of Husband's Alma Mater and put cans of Pepsi (my FAVORITE drink) down the middle
• Playing with the children of another childhood friend--she has a three year old little girl and a three month old son. We're already planning play dates for our boys!
• Receiving the Raggedy Andy doll from Husband's childhood, along with his baby blanket and the outfit he came home from the hospital in
• Watching everyone--family, old friends and new friends--hang out with each other. It was really very emotional for this pregnant lady to see all the people in the world who already love our little guy so much, and were so generous.

I have spent the remainder of the holiday weekend in a blissful state, surrounded by baby clothes and supplies as I start to gear up for some heavy duty nesting over the next eight weeks. Husband had a rare full day off, so while he relaxed and recharged his batteries, I relaxed by sorting onesies and little sleepers and jumpers by size and putting them on teeny tiny hangers. For the record, I love teeny tiny hangers.

So thank you to everyone who came to our showers, and to everyone who has helped us prepare for the big arrival of our little guy. We feel very loved, and we can't wait for our son to get to know each and every one of you.

The Pregnancy Puzzle Challenge--Phase 1

With eight weeks to go, I am starting to sloooow down. I've developed the classic pregnancy waddle, and driving is starting to become difficult--sitting straight up or leaning forward for an extended period of time makes baby cranky, and he kicks in protest until I assume his favorite reclining position. Sleeping for more than three hours in a row is impossible, so naps during the day are essential. And while I know I have miles (and pounds) to go before the big day, the time has come to start consolidating trips and staying close to home.

Soon I'll have the nursery to focus on, and all the nitty-gritty details that come with the final countdown to baby to keep me busy. But even so, the days are long--so I've decided to challenge myself in a way that I never have before.

A puzzle.

I am pretty abysmal at puzzles. I usually don't have the patience or the spatial relation to spend a lot of time putting puzzles together. But I got one for Christmas this year, and it is now spread out on the dining room table as a way to keep my mind and my hands busy. I don't know how long it will take me to get the 1000 pieces to fit together, but I figure 8 weeks is a pretty generous deadline.

A doctor, a teacher, and an engineer walk into a bar...

I have been very lucky in my life to have wonderful godparents--a godmother, in particular, who has always been a strong presence and has been involved in all the major things in my world. In fact, our little guy's due date is on her birthday. Wouldn't that be something?

When it came to choosing godparents for our son, we didn't have to think very hard about it. There are three particular people in our life who are not family--but might as well be--who we know will love our son as if he were their own. When we asked each of these people to be a godparent, they all answered with a resounding "yes"--without a moment of hesitation.

They are three people who are very different from each other as well as from my husband and I. They will round out our little man's world in ways that Husband and I can't. They are, for the purposes of this blog: Engineer Godfather, Teacher Godmother, and Doctor Godmother. I know, I know...it sounds like the beginning of a bad joke.

Husband and Engineer Godfather have been best friends since grade school. In high school, Engineer Godfather met Teacher Godmother...and were married once they were out of college. I love a good romance, don't you?

Engineer Godfather is a thinker and planner, while my husband is more of a risk taker. They balance each other out nicely...we have sat through many a dinner while my husband and his best bud tear situations apart, and while they have differing ways of finding an answer, they always end up with a solution together. Teacher Godmother is a kind, positive person--she always has a smile and a warm hug ready for you. Engineer Godfather and Teacher Godmother are a great pair--they are far more adventurous then Husband and I are. They have travelled all over the world, while Husband and I tend to travel all over...Disney World. They are probably the only way our son will be exposed to sea food, as we stay away from all fish and ocean cuisine.

Godfather Engineer and Godmother Teacher will be able to tell our son all sorts of stories about his father...about the time the three of them lived in New Orleans together and all the shenanigans Husband and Godfather Engineer got into when they were boys. I won't go into detail (I don't know if the statute of limitations has run out on some of the things they got away with), but I know if our son is anywhere near as smart (and stealthy) as his dad, it's going to take both Husband and Godfather Engineer to stay one step ahead of him.

Godmother Doctor and I met our freshman year in college and were roommates until we graduated. We have weathered many storms together. My son will learn dedication and hard work from his Godmother Doctor. When I met her for the first time nearly 10 years ago, she announced to me that she was pre-med and she was going to be a surgeon. She is now in the second year of her surgical residency at a very prominent hospital. The road there has not been easy--from listening to her recite her organic chemistry notes in her sleep to watching her get no sleep during her first year as an intern--but she's a tough cookie and she has never swayed from her goal. She is always unapologetically herself, and always has been, and I think that's fantastic. She has stoody by my side through bad relationships, bad haircuts, my wedding, my father's illness and many other things. I have no doubt she'd move heaven and earth for my son if he needed it.

She'll be able to tell my son stories about his mother back in the day, too. Our weekly ritual of grilled cheese and bad girly TV shows--or the time we snuck a kitten into her dorm room in a duffle bag. Alas, Godmother Doctor and I were not as stealthy as Husband and his friend, but we did manage to get away with a little.

So while our mix of godparents may seem like a bad joke, in reality they are a trio that will enhance our son's life. And in our eyes, that makes them family.

One Day You're In, The Next, You're Out

Truer words have never been spoken. Of course, when the fantastic Heidi Klum spoke them, she was talking about the contestants on Project Runway. I am talking about my belly button.

I have developed a fascination with my own belly button that is usually saved for the three and under crowd. My husband thinks I'm crazy because I bring it up all the time. But of all the changes going on with my body right now, my belly button is one of the strangest.

I've always had sort of a funny looking belly button. It looks like it belongs on a cabbage patch doll, circa late 1980's. I have been waiting for it to "pop", as everyone has told me it would, but so far, all it has done is change shape depending on where the little guy is hanging out. Some days, it looks like it always has. Other days it's totally flat, occasionally it's shaped like a little mountain. Today, the top half is poking out, and the bottom is sucked in.

What is he doing in there?

Cats and Babies, volume 5

Not all chapters in a story are happy. There is tragedy and loss, even in the best of fairy tales. My husband and I are dealing with just such a chapter right now, one of the toughest times we have been through together.

Our cherished Fat Kitty is no longer with us. Earlier this week, we had to make the nearly impossible decision to have him put to sleep. Not only did we lose a pet, but a companion. Fat Kitty and my husband had been two peas in a pod for over ten years, and kitty has been my company during Husband's late work nights for five years. My husband and I have spent the majority of this week stuck together, wandering through a haze of, "what can life possibly be like without him?"

As I have said before, I am not even attempting to compare the issues of raising a child to those of having a pet. They are two entirely different things. There are different types of love you feel for a person and a pet. However, both types of love can be equally strong in their own ways. And now we have a fat cat sized hole in our hearts.

You might be wondering why I chose to write about the loss of our cat on a blog dedicated to our baby boy. There are a few reasons. He has been a reoccurring guest on this blog, after all. He has taught us patience and compromise and how NOT to enable, as well as when to give in. All of these lessons will make us better parents. The biggest reason, though, is because he helped us learn what is probably the hardest lesson: you have to do right for those you love, even when it causes you unbearable pain. There is no room for selfishness.

Our Fat Kitty became so sick so quickly that I am still trying to wrap my head around it. The vet said we could prolong his life by maybe a few weeks and started talking about daily fluid IVs and a 24 hour catheter for food. Husband and I couldn't imagine our vibrant, headstrong cat being happy with that at all, especially because it would require long days at the vet and many car trips--his two least favorite things in the world. Husband and I would have done absolutely anything in the world to keep our kitty with us--except cause him pain. So we did what was best for him, even though it was the worst possible thing for us.

Obviously, I hope a worry this serious never crosses our path when it comes to our child. But there will be hard decisions--times when we make our little guy unhappy, and he won't understand our decisions. We will do our best to explain our reasoning to him. There will be times when our decisions and choices are far harder to make and implement for us than for our son to swallow.

So thank you, Fat Kitty, for teaching us this lesson and all the other ones over the years. Thank you for your companionship, for greeting us at the door every time we came home, for sleeping on my pillow until Husband came home from work. Thank you for forgiving me when I stepped on your tail and for the time I accidentally left you out on the porch all night (although in my defense, we had just met and I barely knew you). Thank you for making me laugh when you stalked my toes, for snoozing on the bathmat while I took a bath, and for laying on my hair while I tried to do yoga on the living room floor. You kept life interesting. Thank you for making Husband and I better people, and (soon) better parents. You will be missed--especially your presence at our front door when we bring home our little man home for the first time. But even though Fat Kitty won't physically be there, I'm pretty sure he'll always be around--as our son's very own personal Guardian Fat Kitty, halo and all.

Week 31: Downward facing...baby!

We had another good news check up today with the doctor. In the middle of my 31st week, we're closer than ever to getting to meet our little guy.

Right now, he's head down (yay!) and in the position he needs to be in for the big day. He could still move, but chances are he won't. That confirmed that the rapid little "thump-thump-thumps" I feel in the upper half of my tummy are indeed his little feet. The doc gave my stomach a good once over and estimates that he's right at three pounds, maybe a few ounces over, which is awesome. As always, the high point was getting to hear his heartbeat--and between the cold gel used with the doppler and the manhandling she did, the doctor got a pretty good kick aimed at her hands from our little Running Back--in fact, he kicked so hard that my husband could see my stomach move from across the room.

Apparently babies in utero sleep 90% of the time...so that means that our little man either doesn't sleep, or is dreaming that he's on America's Best Dance Crew, because I feel him all the time. I love it. He's a little mover and shaker, and I regularly see my stomach jerk as he dances around. This is especially fun when I'm in the bathtub, because it causes little ripples in the water.

We've been getting our apartment ready for his big arrival--we moved around some furniture in the main part of the house to make it more "family friendly", and have finally started to gain control over the chaos that was taking over the room that will be his nursery. Soon we'll get the paint up in his room, and the real nesting can begin.

This Pregnant Woman is Thankful For...

It's the little things in life that make life sweet. This pregnant lady is thankful for...

...my husband, for not losing his mind when I do things like wake him up four times a night going to the bathroom.
...organic peanut butter and extra sharp white cheddar cheese. YUM.
...the nice people at my Kroger who recognize me and keep up with my pregnancy.
...the little man in the tummy. It's very hard to be upset or cranky for too long while he break dances.
...people who give thoughtful comments as opposed to pushy advice.
...my family, who goes out of their way to help a tired pregnant gal get her world ready for a baby.
...frozen cranberry juice ice cubes.
...happy meals. And the toys that come in them.
...the incredibly clean public bathroom at Lowes.
...the citronella candle that keeps the bugs away.
...my car, which despite it's age and rickety appearance, still gets me where I need to go.
...our cozy bed.

Here's to the little things in life. Baby boy, I hope you learn to appreciate the wind in your hair, a lady bug on the windowsill, and clean public bathrooms.

Pregnancy Fat Day: A Weighty Issue

Every woman has fat days. A day when nothing fits, nothing is comfortable, and nothing looks good. Fat days are usually accompanied by hair that will not lay correctly and make up that looked fine in the bathroom mirror but then looks alarming when viewed in natural light. The result of a fat day is usually sweat pants, a old ratty T-shirt, no make up at all and hair in a pony tail. Add half a pint of Ben & Jerry's--which sounds unhelpful, but it's not--and the problem is usually solved.

Add being in the last ten weeks of your pregnancy to that mix, and everything changes. Sweatpants no longer fit (and even if they did it's far too hot out to think about pants) and I outgrew most of my T-shirts several months ago. Some of the husband's t-shirts still fit me, but he is a fairly slim fellow himself, so most of his shirts don't offer much respite. So what is a pregnant lady to do?

The answer is the pregnancy muumuu. The pregnancy muumuu is the dress a pregnant woman buys early in her pregnancy, usually jersey material, that looks cute on the hanger and even looks cute the first few times it's worn. Then, for some inexplicable reason, suddenly the dress makes you look four times bigger than you actually are. It drapes unflatteringly around your tummy and rear end, accentuates your hips, and falls in all the wrong places.

It is the most comfortable thing EVER.

I have just such a dress. It is bright green, has big pockets, and hugs me in all the incorrect places. But when I wake up on days like today, feeling every ounce of the 22 pounds I have put on, stomach stretching as our little guy pokes me with his elbows and knees and head, it is the comfort of this dress I turn to.

And on this particular fat day, I was also feeling a little cooped up, so I decided to get some exercise--by walking around a nice, air conditioned mall. I chose one of the higher end, yuppie malls in our area. I like to people watch as much as I like to window shop. Today, however, every person I came across seemed to have stepped out of the pages of a magazine. They were all pulled together, hair perfectly done, immaculate clothes--and all a size 2, tops. Even the mommies who pushed the strollers around the stores seemed impeccable. It was like I found an alternate universe of skinny, beautiful people in my town to surround me while I walked around looking like a chubby leprechaun with messy hair. I wanted to crawl under a bench and hide.

Instead, I went into Baby Gap. I lost myself among the racks of soft blue onesies and teeny tiny blue jean jackets. I looked at itty-bitty red sneakers that I could only fit two of my fingers in. I smiled at the baby boy in the stoller who was grinning at me, while his mother compared minuscule t-shirts that said things like "stud" and "lady's man". I felt my own little guy dance and didn't feel quite so fat anymore.

So what if I can't fit into clothes from my favorite stores anymore? So what if even some of my maternity clothes feel uncomfortably tight? My doctor says my weight is right on track and the gain is temporary, anyway. And when the end result is someone who will fit into little jean jackets and bitty red sneakers, who am I to feel bad about myself? Thanks, little man, for giving me the reality check I needed.

The New Normal

I know our life will change drastically when baby makes three, but I didn't know how much life would change before our little guy arrived. Here are some of the little ways life is different 10 weeks before baby's expected arrival date:

• When I say, "do you want to know about this week?" to my husband, he knows I don't mean what my plans are for the week. He knows I am about to read out loud to him about baby's development for that particular week.
• I am so used to our little man's acrobatics, kerthunks and kicks that I wake up startled when I don't feel him, as opposed to being woken up by his movements. His movements are so big that husband feels them even when he's not trying, and gets distracted when he can't feel them.
• There are already baby supplies everywhere. We've had one of our baby showers already (more about that soon!) but the nursery is still full of grown up stuff we still have to sort through, so there is a boxed crib leaning up against the wall in our living room, and kits with teeny tiny fingernail clippers and hair brushes piled in the guest bathroom that need to be put away. I consider this practice for when we are ankle deep in baby toys and excersaucers.
• We are getting serious about home improvement. Although there is only so much one can do in an apartment, we have a list of things that we want to get done before the baby comes. Most of these things would have been overlooked if it were going to be the two of us, but suddenly replacing vents and finding the perfect paint color is extremely important.
• My list-making has reached epic proportions. I have always been a little OCD, but now I have a list for everything: the ongoing list on my blackberry for groceries, a list of things to pack for the hospital, food to make and freeze for the weeks following baby's arrival. Pregnancy is sooo good for my anal-retentive tendencies.
• I have spent more time researching stroller/car seat travel systems than I did studying for my SATs. After receiving a diploma from a fairly prestigious university, I think choosing the correct travel system is far more important.
• I spend a lot of time in bed and on the couch, but not a lot of time sleeping. Sleeping is not the easiest thing to do anymore, and sometimes it's boring waiting the night out. I assume I'll sleep even less when the baby arrives, but at least I'll have a baby to play with during those sleepless nights.

The moral of the story? A baby changes everything. Long before it arrives.

OMG! Pregnancy acronyms!

I have always enjoyed acronyms. I especially enjoy watching my husband play games online, where he can have entire conversations using only acronyms. I decided that pregnancy needed it's own specialized set of acronyms, so with husband's help I have modified some of the more popular everyday and gaming acronyms for my currently rounded state.

OMG!
Traditional meaning: Oh my god!
Pregnancy meaning: Oh my gut! (to be used when baby is kicking very hard).

WTF?
Traditional meaning: What the f*ck?
Pregnancy meaning: Where's the fries? (to be used at the McDonald's drive through).

AFK
Traditional meaning: Away from Keyboard (to be used when gamer has to step away momentarily)
Pregnancy meaning: Ask for ketchup (also to be used at the drive through)

LOL
Traditional meaning: Lots of laughs
Pregnancy meaning: Lots of love (what the husband gets when he responds correctly to WTF)

BRB
Traditional meaning: Be right back
Pregnancy meaning: Bathroom break (will be used often)

SOS
Traditional meaning: Save our Ship
Pregnancy meaning: Sleep on Side (a necessity as you get bigger)

SOB
Traditional meaning: Son of a..well, you know
Pregnancy meaning: Stuck on back (what will happen if you do not SOS)


FTW
Traditional meaning: For the win (used by gamers in virtual battle)
Pregnancy meaning: For the Wife (used in our house long before baby)

BYOB
Traditional meaning: Bring your own beer/beverage
Pregnancy meaning: Bring your own bib (always have a bib, even if another mommy provides snacks)


BFF
Traditional meaning: Best Friends Forever
Pregnancy meaning: Boy first! Fantastic! (our reaction to the news)

LFT
Traditional meaning: Looking for team (used by gamers seeking buddies to play with)
Pregnancy meaning: Looking for toes (by seven months, the belly blocks all views)

ROTFL
Traditional meaning: Rolling on the floor laughing
Pregnancy meaning: Running out to find longings(what the husband does at all hours of the night to appease crazy pregnancy cravings)

OMW
Traditional meaning: On my Way
Pregnancy meaning: Oh, my waist! (used to describe what was formerly a midsection)

Music to My Ears

At our first appointment in the third trimester, we got to hear all the things we love to hear: our little guy's heartbeat, great results from previous tests, the doctor telling us that baby's measurements and growth are right on track and everything looks excellent. But the best thing for two parents-to-be to ever hear came at the very beginning of the appointment, when the doctor explained that while the first and second trimesters are focused on tests and keeping a close eye on how baby is forming, the third trimester is less about those worries. "If you had this baby today," the doctor told us, "there's an excellent chance he's going home with you."

Music to my ears. There are so many ways a pregnancy can go wrong in the early stages, and so many things to be overwhelmed by and worry about. And while the third trimester and imminent birth of our son brings it's own set of those things, I feel like it's okay to be excited now. All systems are go, and in about 10 weeks we'll finally get to meet the newest member of our family.

Cats and Babies, volume 4

Once again, our cat has proved to be another effective preparation tool for pending parenthood. Now that I'm in the last leg of pregnancy, we have to pick a pediatrician that will come see our little guy in the hospital and continue to take care of him during his early months. In a perfect world, I would love to find someone that could continue to be our son's doctor until he's an adult. This is easier said than done. I googled "pediatrician" in our immediate area, and came up with hundreds of results. I narrowed it down by doctors that were covered by our insurance and had privileges at the hospitals in the area we prefer. With still a significant number of results, I started weeding through them based on where the doctors went to medical school and their history. I finally got the number down to what I thought was a manageable amount, I started perusing websites only to find I still had a lot of work to do.

Did you know that nearly all pediatricians "strongly suggest" you come in for an open house to talk to them, learn about their theories of pediatric medicine, and that some even require applications so they can choose their patients? At first glance, this doesn't sound like a bad idea--but I still had about 20 offices I was interested in. In addition to that, I realized that there were other things I didn't know enough about--like vaccine options and methods--to choose a doctor. So I started researching, and hopefully when husband and I decide how we feel about the specific type of care we want our son to receive, there will be a doctor on our list that matches those things. I feel sort of silly: all the time I've spent poring over paint samples, I should have been thinking about how I feel about vaccines and the methodology of how I want our doctor to approach the care of our baby. Don't worry, little guy: mommy is totally on it now. Stay tuned.

At the very least, we hope our experiences taking our little man to the doctor go better than our cat's most recent visit to the vet and groomer.

Of course, we won't have to force our kid, hissing and spitting, into a carrier that looks like a tote bag. And hopefully our kid won't attack other patients in the waiting room, scratching the doctor on his mission. And most of all, I hope when we take our child to the doctor it won't involve a two part, five hour session that requires a tether, a neon green head cone, and purple medical tape on all legs and arms. I know our cat is a little hard to handle, but seriously?

I don't know who was more stressed out after kitty's adventures at PetSmart--me, or the cat. A friend of ours, who is expecting her third boy a month before me, said, "try translating that to suctioning out a one-year-olds nose and trying to get him to take Tylenol at 2 AM for a 102 fever." While that scenario is less violent, I can completely see nose suctioning to be even more stressful than two of us holding the cat down and zipping him into his tote bag.

While I could have done without the drama that came with taking the cat to the vet and groomer, I did learn some things that I think will apply to early doctor visits with our kid. When I was calm, so was the cat. Even when I could tell the cat was MAD at me, he still got as close to me as he could (attempting to hide under my shirt at one point). When I felt like things weren't going as they should, I spoke up. And when I got a follow up phone call from the vet, I was not hesitant in telling them that I would not be returning and why. I learned that a well timed cat treat can do wonders to soothe a ruffled kitty soul. And probably the most important lesson I learned: when Mom is at the end of her rope, it's time to call in the big guns: Dad. My husband is the alpha male in kitty's world, and I'm sure it won't be much different with our son. When my husband is around, the cat sat still longer, didn't hide in the back of the closet at the first sight of his carrier, and it took far less treats to assuage him. Moral of the story? For at least the first few visits, until this new mom gets her pediatrician sea legs, going to the doctor will be a family event.