A Watched Uterus...

...will never contract.

I'm pretty sure there's a proverb like that, right?

Actually, lack of contractions is not my problem. It's more like "lack of regular and powerful contractions."

If you didn't read my earlier post, here is a link to it. http://taraewald.blogspot.com/2011/12/dr-jekyllmr-hyde.htmlThis should update you on what has been happening. Reader's Digest condensed version: prodromal labor.

Also, I have an induction scheduled for 7:30 AM on Friday, December 30. So at the very least I'll have a baby at the end of this week.

Physically, I'm in a better state than I was at the beginning of the week. I feel stronger, more rested, and able to eat. That's a good thing for whenever labor finally really happens.

Emotionally, I'm past Dr. Jekyll/Mr. Hyde and into...someplace worse. Or to be more accurate, I have hit bottom (I think) and have now started to resurface.

I don't come onto my blog to post a rosy version of my life, so I'm just going to be honest and say that I've been in an awful mood for the past three days. I've vacillated between intense anger at 1) myself in general 2) my uterus in particular 3) my unborn child (nice, right?) and 4) God 5) my husband (not sure why, it must be his fault somehow) and 6) everyone else on this planet.

I've been deeply depressed, complete with crying jags. I've managed to convince myself that my child is bound to be a problem child that I will never understand and that we aren't in sync the way Addie and I were and are. And believe me, that's depressing. I've been filled with nervous energy that sends me into a frenzy and then completely lethargic for hours at a time.

Basically, I am MomZilla.

And if I haven't answered your very sweet texts, emails, calls, carrier pigeons, it's not because I don't appreciate the thought and the time... it's just that I'm so volatile, that I really honestly couldn't talk about all of this until right now for fear that I'd start screaming and throwing myself on the nearest available person and throttling them a la Steve Irwin on a large crocodile.

Anyway, that was then. I think...I hope...I pray...that I'm over the worst of the insanity. When I think about why I am reacting this way, I think there are a few things at work.

As any pregnant woman knows, you're subject to some crazy hormone surges at the end of your pregnancy and right after delivery. I can actually feel anger flooding through my system and taking me hostage. Ask Tim about the morning this week that the sun flooding into our kitchen sent me into a rage. I can feel it happening, but I'm not really sure what to do with it. I usually just have a small tantrum and then slump in relief when it's over. So that's part of it.

The other part of it is true grief that my plans didn't work out. I suppose I should admit to a slight character flaw here...I really like for things to work out the way I've imagined them. I have a great imagination and I'm capable of really pinning my hopes on things that may not actually be within my control. Like...when I go into labor and the days following said labor.

I never thought I'd get to have my family with me when I went into labor. I never thought they'd be able to visit us in the hospital or witness Addie meeting her sibling for the first time. That's one of the drawbacks of living far away. You have to plan for "when the baby is definitely here" which means giving up on those "firsts".

Except that this year, I thought it would work out because everyone was spending Christmas here...except for Desi, who had to work. That was sad, but it was still a lot more than I'd ever hoped for...it was like this really impossible dream was coming to come true and I was so so happy about it. Really really ridiculously excited and happy and grateful and sort of overflowing with joy.

Which is awesome...except when it doesn't work out the disappointment is sickening and so lowering. Because Dad got sick. And Dillon had to stay with him. And Jordan has already had to go home. And my Mom has very few days left. And I have no baby yet.

And the disappointment was so huge and crushing and my own attempts to go into labor were so frenzied and I put so much pressure on myself that I really didn't enjoy Christmas at all. In fact, we had Tim's family over for brunch on Christmas morning, and I managed to really personify the Christmas cheer at the end of the meal. Everyone was going for a walk and Tim was urging me to go and made the mistake of saying it would put me in a better mood. To which I roared "I am in a good mood, God d**n it!"

Yes. Clearly.

I kind of laugh at that memory, because let's face it, if you can't laugh, you'll just cry. And I'm tired of crying. At some point, you just have to come to an acceptance of the fact that you can't always make perfect plans or even good plans.

And that's been the story of this whole pregnancy, to be honest. I didn't plan for ANY of it to be like it has been, at either extreme of the wonderful and the awful. I didn't think I'd be pregnant so soon after a miscarriage. I didn't think I'd face bleeding and pelvic rest at 11 weeks. I didn't think I'd be so dilated so early. And I didn't think I'd be so overdue. I didn't think I'd be looking at an induction, which is the exact opposite of the natural childbirth I've been preparing for for months. I must be a slow learner, because I'm still trying to plan and prepare and the real lesson of my pregnancy seems to be "Let go and let it be."

So here I am, working through my tangled emotions on good old patient Blogger and trying to let it be what it's going to be. It has been an arduous process, but I'm sure that it was a necessary process. I wish I could say it's the last time I'll have to learn this lesson, but it's definitely too soon to say that! In any event, this will be continued, sooner rather than later...and in the meantime, if you're so inclined, you can pray for family's continued patience with my volatile self!

Dr. Jekyll/Mr. Hyde

Note: I originally wrote this very early Friday morning, on the 23rd of December.

So I’ve somehow ejected my Wireless LAN card and I can’t figure out how to “re-ject” it, which is mildly irritating. But I’m mildly irritated by lots of things these days, ranging from an inability to get a good night’s sleep to overly repetitive holiday songs.

In fact, I'm mostly irritated by everything right now. I feel like I have a split personality, hence the title.

I have my moments where I calmly sip raspberry leaf tea (meant to stimulate labor, thank you, Nicole!) and rock on the birthing ball (thank you, Laura) and page through my kindly texts and emails (thank you, many people) and read positive birth stories and feel really Zen and patient and lovely.

OK, actually that only happened once.

Mostly, I'm irritated. How long can one woman walk around at 4 cm dilated and have NO BABY?? Apparently a long time, folks, Four weeks and counting, to be exact.

It’s about 4:15 AM here and I’m just hanging out on my birthing ball, contracting away. Again. Probably fruitlessly. Again. You see, I’m having what experts like to call a “prodromal labor” and laypeople like to call a “hellish” labor.

This all started Sunday evening. For six hours, I had powerful but irregular contractions. I charted them and it was something like 8 minutes apart, 12 minutes apart, 2 minutes apart, 6 minutes apart, 14 minutes apart. You get the drift. In addition, and this might be TMI, but really, modesty is pretty much beyond an overdue woman, I was puking, poo-ing, shaking uncontrollably, and experiencing terrible back pain. Around 1 AM I ended up in the shower, hoping for some relief, only to find that my legs actually wouldn’t hold me up and that sitting was too painful. I wedged myself into a corner in a half crouch and cried. And I don’t remember the last time physical pain made me cry. Probably when I was in labor with Addie? Point being, it was a long time ago and I haven’t really felt that ill in a loooong time.

All of this activity finally ceased, leaving me weak and exhausted. The whole next day I couldn’t eat and I was so tired and sore you would think I’d run a marathon. Had I gone into “true” labor then, I would have had nothing left to work with…even walking up our half flights of stairs in our split level home left me dizzy and sick. Tuesday I felt good again…able to eat, to do a few simple chores, to face the thought of labor with some eagerness….only to repeat the same experience Tuesday night. Weds was awful again and Thursday was good. And now here I am again. Thankfully the back pain and nausea are gone. I can’t sleep through these contractions but I have an appointment this morning where they intend to strip my membranes. So maybe that will really kick start things. Please God, may it kick start things.

This usually happens because baby is not in a good position for birth. Labor wants to start, but something is holding it up. Little E2 is head down and mostly in the right position…or he/she was as of last Friday….but it’s possible that this little one has a hand over its head….or is doing a downward facing dog in there….something is just not quite right. So. Here I sit.

My saving grace is that my mother and youngest sister have made it into town. My dad and brother were also supposed to be here, but my dad has some kind of terrible virus and his doctor asked him not to travel. My brother stayed home with him. That’s really sad for us, but it was the right thing for both of them to do. Dad has had two hospital admissions in the last few months for serious reasons each time, so I am glad he’s staying home to get well. And at the very least, Mom and Jordan can play with Addie and keep her entertained. She was so bored with me earlier in the week, because my parenting really maxed out with an endless stream of movies and desperate prayers that she would sleep for a really long time at naptime.

Speaking of sleeping…of course that little minx would choose THIS week to decide that her crib is no longer an acceptable bed. You just have to laugh. Ads is making sure that we don’t forget about her even in the midst of all this labor drama.

This all started Wednesday at naptime. I put her down and heard her making a huge ruckus but I thought she was kicking her wall, which used to be her favorite form of protest if she didn’t want to lie down at that exact time. Well, normally we go in and reprimand her for doing that, but I was just too tired to move. I slipped into a mild coma and woke up when Addie did, about two hours later. I went into her room and my mouth literally fell open. She’d done an excellent impression of “angry rock star in a hotel room” and trashed the place. EVERYTHING was thrown around…all her stuffed animals, the diapers, the wipes, the carefully packed bags for baby and Ads….it was all strewn around in an impressive display. And in the midst of the chaos, surveying everything with a satisfied look and a carpet imprint on one flushed cheek, was Miss Adelaide.

Oh, boy.

Since then I’ve gone into her room after each naptime and bedtime, to find various tokens of protest scattered around and an indignant toddler sacked out on the floor in some uncomfortable position. And once I found an indignant toddler hanging precariously from the second highest shelf of her bookshelf and declaring “I’m fine…I’m fine…” in an increasingly panicked tone of voice.

Oy.

She does have a toddler bed and once our visitors are over with, we’ll make the move for Addie. But for now, we just have to monitor her “falling asleep” activities with unusual vigilance.

Little does Addie know that there is NO danger of her being overshadowed. The kid is cracking me up these days. Her new favorite phrases are always being employed to humorous effect. She wanted the pen I was writing with, and I said “Addie, no, I’m using this right now.” To which she immediately declared “Mommy! Share!” And on the same day, she grabbed my coveted Cherry Coke away from me and I said “Hey, Addie, don’t do that. Let me have my drink back.” And she imperiously demanded “How you ask?” She’s definitely two and IN CHARGE…or so she thinks. We’re of course trying to curb her excesses without showing our laughter too much. But it’s difficult to keep a straight face. She’s sassy.

My contractions are fading out now...of course(%$#)...so it's back to bed with me. I hope the next time I write it will be to tell our birth story!

Fee-Fi-Ho-Hum...

...just waiting on a little baby to come!

Thank goodness I look so fabulous. It makes the wait so much easier.

How hilarious is this picture? My friend Kristin has been telling me to send her a belly pic for weeks.My sister made this for me when I was pregnant with Addie and I stumbled upon it the other day. I thought it was good for a laugh. Needless to say, this is NOT me (it's Britney Spears' first pregnancy, I think) and I don't exactly look like this. I have been poor about maternity photographs this time around...and I'm pretty sure it's a Freudian thing, all of my "forgetting" to take those pics. It's not that I mind my belly so much...it's more the jowls that I could do without. Cameras are just not my favorite thing at the moment.

By the way, this is the problem with confident predictions (mine and everyone else's!) that you'll go into labor early. You end up being 39 weeks pregnant (today!) and feeling two weeks overdue. Grumble, grumble. I keep reminding myself that I'm not actually due for another week. Thus far, it's only kinda sorta working.

We have been keeping busy in an effort to pass the time. Our house is becoming (more) organized, with some long overdue clearing out efforts finally coming to fruition. And we've been busy with the usual whirl of errands, classes, and social activities.

This is a picture from the night we went to get our Christmas tree. It was snowing a ton and we bundled up in our cozy clothes for the trip to the tree yard. Since then, the snow has disappeared in favor of some nasty cold rain. I must be becoming a Minnesotan because I'm actually really disappointed in our gray and soggy December. I find myself hoping that it will snow again in time for Christmas, especially since my family is coming out here. If they're going to come all this way, I want them to have the authentic experience!



We also attended the Ortho Dept. Holiday Party, which everyone jokingly refers to as the "Ortho Prom" because we all get dressed up and head out without kids for a night out. I posted a few pictures of our friends on Facebook, but here are a few Tim and I from the night out.




And some of our year, out afterwards. This is courtesy of Nicole Klika's Facebook.


I do have my weekly appt today, and I'm looking forward to it. I love hearing this little one's heartbeat and let me tell you, he/she loves to keep us guessing. Last week the heart rate was in the 140s. Just a mere 30 point difference from the week before! So now I'm wondering if it's a boy (?!?!)

At this point, I just want to hold my baby. I've got no preference other than"come meet us!" Except that when I actually start to wonder if I might be in labor, I get really scared because...y'all...I'm trying to do this naturally. AM I FREAKING NUTS? is what goes through my head a lot of the time. I know my own reasons and think they're good reasons for trying to avoid interventions, but I'm still battling last minute cold feet. Thank heavens my husband is an absolute pro at holding the line, though really, how hard is it for him? :-) Still, I'm lucky that he's the "immovable object" in this situation because labor really is an irrestible force. Fortunately he's working with me, and not against me!

Speaking of holding my baby, I'm holding my big and busy toddler as much as she'll let me these days. Fortunately she is going through a super snuggly phase. She asks me to "hold you" all the time. As soon as I pick her up, I settle her on top of my bump, and she wraps her legs around me (no small feat) and then lays her head on my shoulder and says "Shhhh shhhh" to herself, whether she is upset or not. It's so cute. Her other favorite cuddle move is to bring me a blanket and ask to get "cozy" and "Read books. On the couch." Always in two separate statements. Addie also likes to put her face in our faces and say "HIIIIIIIIIIII" while hugging whatever body part she can reach (neck, knees, arms) as fiercely as possible.

Addie's been working on some big sister skills as well, by mimicking parts of what Tim and I do. Only parts though, as you'll see. She loves to wrestle with her dolls the way that she and Tim rough house every day when he gets home from work. She'll run into the living room holding her doll upside down, dangling by a leg, and shouting "I got ya! I got ya!" as she flings it around and usually drops it and crushes it. And she likes to comfort her baby dolls when they're "upset". I watched her take her baby, bash its head into the wall, and then say "shhh, shhh, it's ok" while she held it and patted it's back. Oh dear. We might have to work on that concept a bit.

And as many of you know, tomorrow is Addie's second birthday. Birthdays are always special, but Addie's is especially great because she shares that birth date with her Daddy. We are having a small party tomorrow night, if all continues on as it is now. If things don't continue on in the same vein, how funny would it be if this baby decides to come on the 16th as well? Tim seems very daunted by this prospect. One baby was cool, but two being born on his birthday kind of freaks him out. But as I told him "You get what you get and you don't pitch a fit" which is one of the more annoying phrases a parent can use. I'm sure he was appreciative of my wisdom.

And here a few random photos from a grandparent/auntie visit a few weeks ago.




Below is a video of Addie from her Romp n' Roll class. This particular part of class is her absolute favorite. It's the very last activity that they do, other than receiving their stamps, and it involves chasing bubbles. She looks forward to this every Tuesday and always eagerly asks about the "bubble chase".




I'll post some pictures of the birthday girl and man from that event, plus some reflections on where Addie is now later on... I hope. Right now, Calum has arrived and Addie's Ca-dar will be waking her up in about 30 seconds to commence the fun.

Gold Stars and Frowny Faces

Thanksgiving Lunch at the hospital with Dad

The many juice boxes of Adelaide







Post nap crazy hair

Ah, how I love my blog. I love sitting down at the computer in the early morning with some hot chai and watching the sunrise while I organize my thoughts. So why don't I do this more often? The answer varies, but it's always a time vs tiredness issue.

Lately I've been tired because I'm super nesting. Not just organizing my utensil drawer and refolding towels but actually scrubbing all three of my tiled bathrooms with a lemon and salt. That kind of nesting. And it's possible that I have been drilling a lot lately. Tim came home to discover me with a power tool in my hand and said "No offense, but this makes me really nervous." OK, so I'm not the best at hanging things on a straight line. Everyone has their flaws. I have a few crooked pictures and such, but my hard water stains are fading and my bathroom smells great. Plus, it's cheap! Thank you, Pinterest.

Sidenote: How did we live without Pinterest? How? If I need to cook, clean, decorate, or just waste half an hour (ok, an hour or two), I always go to this site. My thought process goes like this: "Oh, I'd like to clean my stove burners. Better check Pinterest!" And fyi, ammonia and a sealed ziploc, folks. That's how you get rid of stubborn rust and goo on your nasty burner grills. "Oh, I need a quick dessert for the potluck...better check Pinterest!" "Oh, I wonder if it's possible to make glitter out of recycled tinfoil?!?" (Yes, by the way) And so on.

Anyway, I'm super nesting because I'm sure and certain this baby won't wait until Dec. 22nd to make an appearance. I've probably just guaranteed an induction ten days after my due date by writing that down, but we shall see. I visited the midwives on Tuesday for my 36 week checkup and they said E2 is doing great. The heart rate was 168 to 173 (girl?!?!) and that baby probably weighs somewhere in the mid 7s to low 8s. Already. Yikes. Moreover, baby's head is at zero station and I'm already 50% effaced and 3 cm dilated. Double yikes. I need more lemons!!! That was a few days ago, of course, and I'm now 37 weeks. Baby has dropped even lower and I now officially waddle instead of walk. Ah, pregnancy milestones.

As THE big day approaches, I find myself really excited and really apprehensive. There are days when I think I've got parenting Addie "down". By which I mean that we have a great day together, we accomplish everything we need to accomplish, the house is clean, I cook dinner, I wear makeup, I dry my hair into a not-weird shape, and things feel totally manageable. Those are Mommy's gold star days. You know, you used to have those charts in elementary school where you got gold stars or something similar. It was a symbol that you did a good job that day.

Then there are those other days. You know. PLEASE tell me you know. The days where your kid watches not one but about four movies. The days where you eye the laundry and think "not today". The days where you tell your husband that dinner is whatever he brings home. And maybe you get up late after listening to your kid jumping in her crib for about half an hour, and maybe you take the entire naptime to ...well...nap, and maybe you go to bed early after watching four episodes of "Dance Moms". Those are Mommy's frowny face days. I loathe those days.

Or in a slightly humorous example: a few weeks ago, I started feeling very odd. I was having a lot of back pain and pressure and I just felt...weird. So I thought "I'll take a shower. That will ease some of the ache and make me feel more with it." And of course, Tim works so many hours that a lot of my showers end up being with Addie. She might come in with me, or very occasionally I'll let her play in the bathroom while I shower. This was one of those "let her play" times.

Well, here I am standing in the shower thinking "I really don't feel good. Gosh, I don't feel well at all. In fact, I'm going to throw up." And sure enough, I got sick and was left sort of crouching in misery on the bathroom floor when I became aware of a rythmic "zzzzshhh zzsshhh zzsshh" sort of sound. And I knew exactly what it was. It was the sound of Addie patiently pulling out 100 yards of waxed dental floss. And guess what? I didn't care. I stayed right there in the shower and let my child yank out a football field's worth of thread into a messy nest on the floor. At $1.99 it was great value for the few moments of peace that I needed to get it together. But it's not really a gold star moment.

So I worry a bit about how I'll handle this transition to two children. I don't always have it together with ONE, after all. So it stands to reason that I won't always have it together with two. I'm not used to dividing my time and attention. And I have a little bit of grief about losing that special quality of "just me and you" that Adelaide and I have together. She's my girl. We're constant companions and she's just...all mine. Most of the time. Tim does occasionally expect me to share. :-)

I expect things to be hard at first. But the reason that we have more children is because it's a good thing. In fact, it's a wonderful thing. We are giving ourselves, Addie, and the baby the greatest gift possible. We are growing our family.

My goal for the next few months has nothing to do with having a perfectly run household. I think I'll be giving myself gold stars if I enjoy the day. If I revel in not one, but two, precious faces. If I'm positively slain by the perfect crescents of lashes on plump cheeks and flashing dimples and bits of fine flyaway hair sticking up. I am going to count my achievements by the number of cheeks and lips and hands kissed and the feel of sturdy little bodies clinging to me. And I'll remind myself that laundry is not yet mobile, that showers don't need lemon salt scrubs on a weekly basis, and that it's really OK if Ads wants to fling all of her washcloths and towels into a big pile on the floor. Those things are mundane. Savoring the little moments that comprise a big life change is not ordinary and it's too important to dismiss in favor of something like Swiffering the floor. Besides, who am I kidding? It's winter in Minnesota, and I've got two dogs. The floor is never going to be perfectly clean!

There will be gold star days in my future again, but the real lesson is going to be figuring out what to award myself "stars" for accomplishing. And I think it's got to be all about happiness and not orderliness.

Pre much needed hair cut!

Love.

Thankful

Thanksgiving is a great holiday. I don't think it's my favorite...Christmas takes that honor...but still, it's a close second. I love the idea of taking time out, as a nation, to say "We are thankful".

If you watch any politics at all, you'll get the idea that we Americans, are teetering on the brink of disaster. It's a culture of fear. "Get out and vote for Candidate X or you will be in a gulag this time next year for saying the Lord's Prayer!" "Get out and vote for Candidate Y or all 16 year olds and above will be forced into arranged marriages!" OK, it's not quite that bad, but it's getting there. And it's so ridiculous. It's not that politics is unimportant...far from it...but just that we, as a nation, are so blessed. If you take a look at the world today, things here in the US are truly not so bad. You can keep your Tea Parties and your Occupy movements and your righteous indignation on your side of the aisle, whatever that may be, and I'm going to keep thanking my lucky stars that I live right here, right now. That's my political party right there: Grateful. I'm a registered (G).

OK, random political rant over with, we're certainly feeling very blessed here at Casa Ewaldo. As another year wanes, our cups truly runneth over. We are brimful of delight at the thought of meeting this little person we've been wanting for a long time. And Addie is a constant joy. She seems to have eased out of her last "difficult" phase and we're enjoying our newly cooperative little punkin. I'm sure she'll re-enter a challenging phase at some point before she leaves for college, but for now, we're just loving her personality without all the discipline issues!

As far as Thanksgiving itself goes, we don't have huge plans. Tim is on call, which is a bummer, but someone has to do it. Addie and I will make our way up to the cities for an afternoon with family and friends. We had our pick of events...a veritable smorgasbord of feasts... but I decided that a whole day of running around with Ads, on my own, is a bit too much right now. Because at 36 weeks, folks, I am getting tired. My body is definitely getting to that point where I'm thinking "Sure, labor hurts, but let's do this!"So we're settling for an afternoon of fun and then back home to wait for Tim/Daddy and bring him pumpkin pie in bed.

And a small note of thankfulness: Tim got me a new lens for my camera for my birthday/Christmas! I'm so so so (insert a lot of so's) excited because I had become really uninspired with taking pictures. Addie is difficult to photograph at the best of times, and our first lens was pretty much only decent in great outdoor light or in its auto modes, usually employing a flash. Anyone who takes a decent amount of photos knows that flash ruins a lot of pictures. I wanted to shoot on manual, but my lens just sucked, to be frank. I had a choice between getting nice light but blurry Addie or focused Addie in bad lighting. Or being outside. Which is not always practical for half the year here in MN. But now, it's a whole new world! So I should be able to upload some good pictures soon.

And another small grace note: it's only snowed ONCE here so far! And that was very light. I'm sure the natives are getting restless, but the transplants are thankful. Or at least this transplant is thankful! I don't mind cold so much, but snow makes everything so much harder on the moms of the Roc. When the snow does make an appearance, I'm determined to be positive about it, but I think it's fine to be positive about its absence too!

And finally, I'm thankful for this space and anyone who cares enough to read my ramblings! :-) Enjoy the day!

Constant Changes

For the last few years on my birthday, I've tried to take some time to reflect on the past year of my life. But for whatever reason, this year I find myself thinking about the last ten years of my life. Maybe because I met Tim almost exactly 10 years ago, at my 21st birthday party. Or maybe because this is first year where it feels like the past decade was an entirely adult span of time.

Whatever the reason, here I am thinking about life at 21 as compared to life at 31. There are some constants. Good friends, loving family, copious amounts of cake, squeal-inducing presents. But perhaps not surprisingly, the differences are more striking. No alcohol, two different careers, a husband, a house, two dogs, an almost two year old and an almost ready to be born Ewald in utero. Those are the broad strokes, the obvious differences that actually comprise a whole world of changes unto themselves.

If I recall correctly (and I may not!) my 21st birthday party was a kegger at our college apt. So there's another similarity between 31 and 21. Ha! Just kidding. It's a funny thought though, trying to imagine our Rochester friends with our gajillions of kiddos all gathered around a keg. It would have to be a keg of Capri Sun. Something tells me those don't exist. (A quick Google search confirms my suspicions here though there are a surprising number of people who think this would be an excellent idea.)

We actually kept it very low key this year, but it was exactly what I wanted. Tim and I went to dinner in the Cities while Addie stayed the night with her Grandpa and Lita. That was on Saturday. Then on Monday (my actual birthday), I had a nice lunch with some friends, and lots of sweet phones calls, texts, and facebook messages from friends and family. Tim brought Greek food home for dinner and we enjoyed some family time, including watching the first episode of Mad Men after Miss Addie went to sleep. I've been wanting to watch that show for a while, but we have exactly ZERO time to watch television apart from sports and kid movies, so that was a treat in and of itself. I'm sure we'll watch episode 2 sometime next year. If then!

So here I am, 31 years of age. Not even on the cusp of my 30s anymore, but firmly in them. It's sort of strange because when I was younger (say 21, for instance) my 30s seemed so old. I assumed I'd probably be married and I'd have some kids, a job, a house, you know, all the trappings of adulthood.

But mostly I thought I would feel differently from myself at age 21. That I'd have different interests and different views and different tastes. The kind of transformation where the opening of a new Target would be more interesting than the opening of a new wine bar. And in some ways, that's true. The Roc doesn't need any more Targets (we have Target north AND south, thanks very much) but the opening of a Trader Joe's was kindofabigdeal here. As in, police directed traffic in and out for the first weekend it was open. And perhaps I was part of that madness. As to wine bars, I know where they are in Rochester. I just don't get to them very often. Certainly not every Thursday night, as might have been the case a decade ago!

My habits are certainly different, my day to day life is totally different, and yet somehow I don't feel like I'm that different in my heart and mind. When I really think about it, of course I've changed a lot. But I still feel like...myself.

And that's my big life lesson from the last ten years. Whatever you become, wherever you go, as long as you can recognize yourself, it probably means that you're happy. In fact, an unconventional definition of unhappiness might be that you look at your life and don't know how you ended up there. Sometimes that happens to folks for reasons beyond their control, and sometimes it's the result of bad decisions along your life's path. But I guess the biggest gift of all ...birthday or not...is looking at your life and feeling happy that you're in it and that you are the person that you've become.

I'm not trying to suggest that my last ten years were completely smooth sailing or that I've now become the best person I can possibly be. Like everyone, I've made mistakes and I'm sure I'll make more! But that's part of growing and I think that's OK. I'm happy to be a work in progress.

I hope that ten years from now, at 41, I'll look back at my life and think about how different things are and how much I've changed. But I hope I come to the same ultimate conclusion that I reached at 31. That the changes were mostly good, that my decisions were mostly sound, and that my blessings were abundant and most of all, that I will still feel like myself and be happy about that.

And if some things are very different, some things might be the same. Maybe on the morning after my 41st birthday, I will hear my children getting up and decide that a breakfast of milk and dark chocolate covered peppermint JoJos is OK once a year. :-) That's the kind of constant I can celebrate!

Stream O' Randomness

Raising a child tends to change your relationship to the English language. Some of it is a difference in how you interpret words and phrases. You quickly learn that "expressing yourself" has more to do with lactation than communication, and "sleeping in" means that your child slept past 7 AM. Some of it is a difference in how you speak. You will, at some point, inevitably speak in very simplified English (aka baby talk) to someone totally adult who will look at you like you are a pure fool. And some of it is the addition of new vocabulary words to your lexicon. For instance, there are at least four different regional words for a pacifier ...paci, binky, ninny, and nuk spring to mind. And you'll start to hear about things like "milestones", which I doubt anyone else has used in daily conversation since there were actually stones marking out the miles.

There are good and bad milestones. The good ones are fairly obvious; rolling over, first steps, first words, first solid foods. The bad ones are just as important, but not as fun to blog about; first tantrum, first time-out, first time Mom closed herself into a room and counted to 100 before emerging (wait, that's not a commonly accepted milestone? :-) ) We had a bad one this past weekend. Poor Ads had her first "sick visit" to the doctor and her first ear infection. In some ways, it's great that she made it to almostbutnotquitetwo before we had to take her in to a doctor. And an ear infection is pretty small potatoes in the whole realm of illness and "things that can go wrong", so I'm grateful for that.

But it was a rough weekend. Addie couldn't sleep for long periods of time unless she was being held and rocked. She couldn't settle into her normal routine and she refused to eat anything but macaroni and cheese for five straight meals. Including breakfasts. Poor little muffin.

Fortunately, she is on the mend now and we didn't have to give her antibiotics. We can still save those big guns for something...well...big. And we have a new appreciation for her sassy and independent little self. While it was nice to be able to cuddle so much, I'd rather have her be her normal self, strong opinions and all, and than be so obviously unhappy.

And in other random happenings, my house was completely and totally surrounded by crows yesterday morning. It was 6 AM and this incredible din filled the air, waking both Ads and I from a sound and much needed sleep (Tim was on call, but he probably wouldn't have woken up anyway!). Even one crow is noisy, right? Well, imagine hundreds. It was incredible. The trees in our neighborhood were filled with huge black birds fighting and shrieking at each other and generally acting like extras in a Hitchcock movie. Nothing says "This is going to be a great day" like hundreds of omens of doom circling around your house at daybreak.

Pregnancy wise, I am 34 weeks today! I think. I keep screwing up the week count and saying I'm a week farther ahead or behind than I actually am. Either way, I guess we're getting there. It's funny because I could tell you with great precision what week and day I was on with Addie's pregnancy. "How far along am I? Oh, I'd say about 34 weeks and 3 days, give or take an hour." I'm feeling pretty good, though I'm getting to that point of "OK, let's do this" pretty rapidly. My heartburn continues to rage. I've got yet another prescription this week, so we'll see how this goes. I was already on the stuff they give to people with ulcers, so now I'm on the stuff that they give to people who swallow fire for a living. My heartburn was just as bad with Addie but I never went the prescription route with her...I just kept a huge bottle of Maalox with me and swigged it constantly. Sick. But just as effective (or ineffective) as the pills thus far.

Now Miss Ads wants her SEARuhl...specifically her "Hoop Hoops" aka Fruit Loops, which she is only allowed once every few days. Of course, this doesn't stop her from asking for them every morning! And so the day begins...

Little Treats

Sweet little treats!

Addie loves our pumpkins. She treats them like pets.

Tim said she was telling him that they were orange.

Here she is showing off the little pumpkins. These little white and orange pumpkins are called "ghouls", which I think is pretty cute.
Calum is a total ham. I'm so jealous, because I would love to have Addie actually sit still for a photo. We've come to despair of getting good shots of her! He was an Ewok, by the way, but he refused his headpiece.


Asher, the Cuddly Lion




The Swanns



I originally planned for Addie to be a peacock this year. But the costume arrived and it was ...well...cheap looking. The feathers were faded and imperfectly dyed. It was like a depressed peacock. Peacock in need of Prozac. That wasn't really what I was going for! Plus, she hated it. She screamed like a banshee when we put it on her, I think because there was a bird's head on the hood. She was NOT pleased about having a bird's head on top of her own head. Moreover, Tim didn't like it because he rightly pointed out that peacocks are male and peahens are nothing special to look at anyway. I didn't think of this until he pointed out, but I had to admit he was right.

So, long story short, Ads was a butterfly again. Last year's costume was huge on her, and this year it actually fit. And she loved it. As soon as we put it on her, she exclaimed that it was "awesome!' and "Bee YOO too" which is how she says "beautiful".

We had a few friends over to have some chili and cornbread and to trick or treat. Addie LOVED trick or treating. She was thrilled to be outside, taking a walk at night, with some of her favorite friends. AND we went to people's houses, knocked on their doors, and they let her choose candy out of a bowl. What could be better from a toddler's point of view? Every morning since then, as soon as she wakes up, she runs into the kitchen and asks for a "tweet" from the candy bowl. She has most definitely inherited Mama's sweet tooth! Her favorite candy seems to be York Peppermint Patties, although she will also eat...with great relish and many loud MMMMMs... Rolos, Whoppers, Almond Joys, and Twizzlers. Thank heavens we just bought her a new toothbrush. She wanted the kind of that buzzes and rotates like Mom and Dad have, so we upgraded her to a fancy new Hello Kitty electric toothbrush. And not a moment too soon, either!

Almost a Month...

...since my last post! Augh! Where has the time gone? I think about blogging a lot, and have decided that I need to invent a machine that will transcribe my thoughts directly from my brain onto a computer screen. That would save me a lot of time and also perhaps make me rich. I don't really want to be rich, but it would be awfully nice to be able to buy $5.00 smoothies every time I go grocery shopping without any feelings of guilt.

OK, ramblings aside, there are some good, some "meh", and some bad things keeping me from blogging. Good: we've had Tim home (slightly) more, and we've been busy with fun events during the week and weekend. "Meh" (which is the classic seinfeld indifferent noise) is that I'm getting used to my new job and when/how to work from home. I think anytime you add something to your routine, it takes a while to get back on track. So that's not good or bad, it's just how it goes. And "bad" is that I've some minor health issues that are no big deal by themselves but when combined are making me crave sleep the way that a pregnant woman craves chocolate. Incidentally, did you know that chocolate worsens heartburn? Yes, it does, my family and friends. Thus creating a cruel Greek-tragedy-type of dilemma for this particular pregnant woman.

The minor health issues are truly minor: allergies, wretched wretched "wake me up at night" heartburn, and the first (and last, fingers crossed) bad blood pressure day. The allergies are clearing up as the cold weather sets in, I got a new prescription for my heartburn which seems to be working (praise! joy! blessed relief!) and the blood pressure...well, I'll just keep watching that, it may or may not act up again. Either way, I'm not actually sick, I've just been seriously lacking energy. And as most of you know, my blogging is usually done pre 7:30 AM and pre Adelaide's wake up. Well, you'd have had better luck finding an 80 degree day in a Minnesota January than dragging my sleepy bulk from a bed before 7:30 these days. Fortunately, as I am starting to feel better, my energy is returning. At least until that whole "newborn" thing takes place :-)

And if you're wondering how I'm blogging now, it's because Addie is thoroughly engrossed in her "Oceans" DVD and I decided to blog instead of clean. She isn't usually allowed to watch videos until after her lunch, but you know.... it's Friday. And she loves "Oceans". She is really really into all nature documentaries and animals of all sorts. But she especially loves marine mammals and can identify and imitate dolphins, whales, orcas, seals, sharks, fish, and jellyfish.

A typical bath time conversation goes like this:

Addie (flipping over onto her tummy and splashing a lot): Mommy! Dolphin! EEE EEE EEE (squeaking)

Me: Oh, are you a dolphin?

Addie: Yes. Swimming. Splashing!

Me: Oh wow, what color are you?

Addie: Orange.


Speaking of funny conversations, here a few gems from the last couple of weeks.

Addie (putting sequined purse over her arm): Purse. Look. Purse. (showing Tim and I)

Me: Oh, what a pretty bag. Where are you going?

Addie: Shopping.

Tim: What are you shopping for?

Addie: Cookies


And another:

Me: Addie, where is our baby?

Addie: (pats my stomach)

Me: Do you want a sister or a brother? (Note: she always picks the second thing in the list, but I know she really wants a sister. This was a test. Sure enough...)

Addie: Brother. No! Sister. Girl!

Me: Oh, you want a little sister.

Addie: (thinks about this) No. Pony.

While Baby E2 does kick a lot, I don't think it's a horse. But I suppose time will tell.

And now Ads is ready for some attention...and I haven't even gotten to post pics yet! Oh well, I'm catching up, I suppose!

Baby E2 FAQs

I thought I'd answer some of the frequently asked questions that I get about this pregnancy. If you've asked some of these, sorry, this might be a little bit redundant. But I thought it would be nice for this baby to someday be able to read exactly what I was thinking while I was carrying him/her! And if there is anything that you'd like to know that I didn't answer, just ask!

How are you feeling?
This is the standard, right? Every pregnant woman gets this on a regular basis for the whole of the 30+ weeks that people know. And the answer is "Good!". By and large, I can't complain. I do have terrible heartburn every single day, without fail. And I feel a lot of pressure and heaviness in my womb that I don't remember with Addie. (My friend Jen speculates that this is the scar tissue from the C section giving way, since she is experiencing the same thing.) And sometimes I have trouble sleeping because I have to pee three times a night, and the baby is always so pleased with the extra room that it does some serious gymnastics by way of celebration. But honestly, those are pretty minor things.

Carrying this baby has been a really pleasant experience for me...if you don't consider the first trimester! We'll see how this goes as I continue to grow, because I'm already having some trouble tying my shoes and such. :-)

Do you think you're having a boy or a girl?
I go back and forth. I'm terrible at predicting genders. It's almost always the opposite of what I think ...for instance, I was sure Addie was a boy.

For what it's worth, this pregnancy has been exactly the same as my pregnancy with Addie. Same icky first trimester, same wretched heartburn, same super active baby, same "ambiguous" heart rate (between 140 and 150). This leads me to suspect "girl", but that probably guarantees a boy, knowing my track record! And I've had friends that have experienced identical pregnancies and had different genders and friends that swear it's different carrying a boy vs. a girl. So I guess we'll see which camp I fall into in December.

What do you want, a boy or a girl?
If I'm being really super honest, I think I'd like another little girl. In part because these two will only be two years apart, and I think it would be great to have a sibling of the same sex so close in age. And in part because then I can use all of Addie's things for this baby, because they're being born at the exact same time of year. And in part because I love little girls and I'd like a houseful of them!

Now, obviously, I'd be delighted with a little boy too. After all, it would be a new experience to have a little boy. We're all about new adventures in the Ewald household. And I think that Tim feels about boys the way that I feel about girls...ie, he wouldn't mind a houseful of sons. I'd feel almost more excited for him than I would for myself. Almost.

It's a win/win situation, really, and that's a great place to be. And now I'm really excited thinking about meeting this little person. (Insert squeal here).

How can you stand not knowing?
I hear this one a lot. Honestly, it was difficult the first time, with Miss A. I was very tempted to find out. This time, it's not even on my radar. I honestly don't want to know until it's time and I'm holding this little bundle.

I think this boils down to one main thing for me. I completely understand why people want to find out, and I don't have any sort of judgment or superiority complex about finding out vs. not finding out. I think people should just do what they want to do.

However, having experienced this with Addie, I just can't imagine that finding out from your ultrasound is anything like finding out as you meet your child. You have to really imagine yourself letting the anticipation build for months, then going through all the drama and intensity of labor, and then having your husband be the person to tell you "We have a ..." right as you see your child's face for the first time. That's a moment you can't top, and you can't ever forget. It's dramatic, it's beautiful, and it's an incredible bonding experience. Even if you are coming out of anesthesia and are slightly surprised to be alive.

What names do you like?
We seriously have a list of about five or six names for each sex. We don't care about people knowing them, but we tend not to tell folks just because we're bound to change our minds. I think what we learned with Rowan...er...Adelaide...is that we have to see the baby to really know what we want. And that we're better off just staying mum about it until we've decided, aka the birth certificate is filled out.

Are you having another c-section?
Good Lord willing, and the creek don't rise, NO! Granted, my threshold this time around is lower than a first time mother's threshold for a C section. They don't want my uterus to blow out like a bald Michelin. So it's a possibility. Though I do hope to at least stay conscious for this one, even if I go to section.

If I have my way...or rather, if I stick to my way...I'll have a natural birth. Yes, sans drugs. One of the mostly unknown (to the general public) side effects of an epidural is a slowage/stoppage of labor. And that's what happened to me. It took me SIX HOURS to get my last measly cm out of the way. That's craziness. And if I had been able to walk around, change positions, or even just move my legs, I might have been able to coax Addie into a better position. Little stubborn one just refused to turn her head for us (what a shock!) and we couldn't do much to encourage her to change her angle. Hence, our label of "failure to progress" despite the fact that full grown men were attempting to bodily drag her out of me with large salad tongs.

Believe me, I envy people that can get drugs and sleep through their dilation. I remember the full blown contractions (2 mins apart, lasting a minute apiece) very well. I seem to remember desperately wanting to escape from my own body. But experience tells us that I am not that person that is destined to be a happy labor sleeper, and I'd rather labor for six hours or so than have to deal with abdominal surgery recovery for six weeks. Especially with a two year old.

I say this now, of course. We'll see if Tim can help me remember this when I'm in transition! He may have to print this out. (That's a joke, Tim. Don't even think about it!)