Memories

This week three people asked me why I was breathing so hard over the phone.  I had three options to tell them a.  I’m practicing for a job as a 1-900- PERVERT phone girl. b.  I’m pregnant again  c. The Truth:  I’m massively out of shape.   I can’t actually walk up the steps and talk on the phone or people become concerned that I can’t breath!?!  I can tell you now I was no Heidi Klum when I was pregnant…I took the ‘eat what I  the baby craves and sleep when you can’ approach.  Tonight the boys have left to watch a race, so I allowed Carlee to sleep a little longer this evening.  I completed a 15 minute walk tape and painted my toe nails.  I’ll curse those toe nails during Carlee’s 12, 1, 2, 3, 4 am wake up calls.  I followed up with some high fiber-Vitamin Cookies after my exercise, and they tasted like crap, so I followed that up with an ice cream sandwich.  I am sooo weak!

I almost painted Carlee’s toes, but I was scared I would have polish all over her little feet. Carlee is so cute and sweet, she reminds me of the little baby dolls I played with as a girl; with the exception the Betsy Wetsy part can’t be turned off and she requires insurance.  I admit I once loved to run around my neighborhood and climb trees, but I really enjoyed my baby doll time too!  I would spend hours and hours dressing, rocking, and talking to my dolls.  I was just telling a funny story to some visiting family members the other day that the one doll I really, really, really wanted as a child was the Cabbage Patch Doll.  The Cabbage Patch Doll was a huge HOT item in the 80s.  Of course, they were also pricey.  I didn’t get one as soon as I wanted, I had to wait for a special occasion.  It seemed as if every single one of my girl friends at school had one.  I would gaze longingly at the store looking for a doll like me.  I never really could find one, but that didn’t stop me from wanting a Cabbage Patch Doll.  

Finally the day came, when for my birthday, my sweet granny brought me THE ONE, THE ONLY, MY OWN Cabbage Patch Doll!!!  I was so freaking excited.  I pulled her right out of the box.  She had brown hair, brown eyes, and a yellow dress.  She even came with a birth certificate.  Granny said she looked everywhere to find a doll that looked like me.  She did look like me and I loved her so much.   I named her Stephanie.   One day I even got to take Stephanie to school. If my memory serves me all the girls brought their dolls.  It was then the girls asked me why I owned a black doll.  A black doll!!  What!?!  She isn’t a black doll she is tan like me I told them.  (Needless to say my school in first grade was not rich in diversity.)  The girls tried to make fun of my different colored doll but I would not let them.  I did what any self respecting first grader would do…I told the teacher.  She of course told me to go away.  I held my head high and carried my look a like doll with me proudly!  It makes me laugh to think about it.  I must have envisioned myself a beautiful, multicultural princess when really I just ran around all summer half naked with no sun screen.  And I guess granny thought I was adopted.  I would say I was ahead of my time because even then I knew skin color didn’t make a difference.  But, a few years later my mom bought me another Cabbage Patch Doll and the neighbor Matthew convinced me that there was a REAL Cabbage in it’s head thus the name Cabbage Patch Doll.  Yep, I took a knife to doll #2’s head to see if it was true (its not true).  See you thought I was a sweet girl until that part of the story…but I was also very, very curious.  This story ends with me getting the belt.

                                                                                                         TWINS!?

 

I hate to end on a bad note, but I must go care for my real doll.  I sure do miss Stephanie, if I had her Carlee and Connor could have another, more silent,  sister! J

Special Delivery

I’m suppose to be working on Thank You Notes right now, but then I thought…oh my, oh dear, I better blog immediately.  (Not to avoid thank you notes of course, but to update everyone with all the important info., besides I only have 1000 more to write.)  

Carlee Anne is a full week old!  She came into this world a healthy and stout 10 pounds.

Praise God the procedures went well and everyone is healing nicely.  With the exception of low blood sugar at birth, Carlee seems to be a healthy girl.  Of course if worrying was an Olympic Sport I would be a gold medal winner, and I'm already worrying about baby #2.

I have forgotten all the work involved with an infant. 

I just now had a 3 minute shower and clipped my toe nails and I felt like I had spent the day at the spa, and that excludes time to brush my teeth.

I have been working diligently at nursing Carlee.  I nursed Connor and I really feel it is what is best for baby if able.  It’s the only thing organic I’ve ever did for my children.  To think of all the hard work you put in, only to see them scarf Oreos later in life. 

I have never felt so sorry for milk cows.  Every one to two hours I have to feed Carlee (night as well).  As Connor calls it “Milking” Carlee.  I on the other hand am wore completely SLAP out.  I cried about seven times while watching a Real Housewives of Orange County Marathon on Bravo TV and an episode of Power Rangers.  Who knew they were such emotional shows!?  

I am seriously keeping a careful check of the way I feel.  Due to the lack of sleep and lack of control I experienced with Connor, I suffered mild Postpartum Depression.  I always felt too embarrassed to mention how I felt.  I was afraid I sounded like I was complaining when I had so much to be thankful for…I felt silly for feeling sad and bad.  I felt like a crappy mother.  This time I am being more vocal about help I need.  As much as it pains me… I am also allowing the house to look like an episode of Hoarders so I can try to rest more.

Of course with a new baby brings visitors.  So they get to see me look like this 

and my house looks like I don’t understand the word vacuum.  Still, my family, my church family, and coworkers have looked right past those flaws (and perhaps my breath) and have only asked us how they can help, what meals they can bring, and offer well wishes and prayers over Carlee.  It has been very touching.

Connor is adjusting.  He views Carlee in the same way he views his pet lizard-  really cool and neat but best left inside a cage for viewing.  Connor seems most bothered by the fact Carlee has no teeth.  He did offer up some worms for her yesterday.  I was able to catch him before anything got in Carlee’s bassinet and was able to redirect the worms to a better home.  

I was surprised at how fast he allowed dad to takeover.  He has requested his dad for   everything now, which is good, but also annoying.  Helloooo, remember me…I’m the one that always washes your favorite jersey to wear with your favorite jeans!  I’m the one that reads your bed time story with all the voices!  I'm the one that stayed up ALL NIGHT for four years!!!  I know, I know... Time to Let Go woman.  Still, I am very proud of the little fellow, he is doing good with all that is going on.

Mostly, we have all been falling in love with this little squirt.  Even though my head is pounding and my chest feels like it’s been run over by a monster truck and I'm a little panicked my pain meds are dwindling.... nothing beats looking into that little face.  It’s one of life’s JOYS.  As I rock her, I whisper all the important things she needs to know about…Dads are suckers for hugs and kisses, never trust a guy with over gelled hair, orange never goes with red, and sometimes its OK to wear your heart on your sleeve (even if people say you are weak and an over sharer).  

One thing is for sure, Carlee is certainly a special delivery from God.

40 weeks and an A+ Farewell

Today I worked my final day at school (until May).  40 weeks pregnant and I made it, Praise God and people who are so helpful!!!

Now the Time is Up.  I shouldn’t word it like that.   Time is here?  (does that sound better)

Carlee will be here tomorrow! 

Connor is very excited that he is going to be a big brother…so much that when I asked him this morning “are you excited about your sister coming?”  he said “I’m more excited about no homework tonight.”  When I picked him up today, I said “are you excited about tomorrow?”  His response, “I’m excited I get to wake up and play with my toys.”  (Not really the direction I was trying to take him, but he is probably very sick of hearing 'are you excited to be a big brother?'  Besides he will find out very soon….we are getting company and she ain’t leavin’.)

Today my class threw me a little baby shower.

Oh Boy were they excited!  They all made me cards with a pink cake and pink frosting and Mrs. E. made them a little basket to give me with baby items.  They all wished me a sweet good bye.

Surprise!

There was lots of discussion today, my input was not needed of course.  These are the quotes I wrote down from my K-2ers….

-Where do babies come from?

-From the stork, DUH.

-your not suppose to say DUH.

-Nuuhhh, uhhhh…they come from Heaven.

-They are going to cut that baby out of Mrs. S. with a knife.

-Are you going to die Mrs. S.??  I hope you don’t DIE!

-she isn't going to Die.

-Where is the baby now?

-IN her tummy, that is why she is fat.

-Yeah she is BIG, BIG, BIG.

-Mrs. S.’s feet are puffy, I’ll get a chair.

-I’ll get another chair.
-How is that baby coming out?

-at the hospital, DUH.

The kids all created a card that showed ‘Things the kids said they would miss about Mrs. S.’…

-“giving us stickers”

-“because we just will”

-“because she is the best”

-“her son Connor”

-“her baby”

-“helping us count money”

-“helping us learn”

-“J” (no comment)

-“doing math with her”

I love the picture that shows I AM THE ONE crying because everyone misses me.

At the back table with my maternity substitute:

Student:  “Are you going to be Mrs. S.?”

Mrs. M: “I guess so, when she has her baby.”

Student:  “Well, now you need to take your shoes and socks off because that is what she does.”

(busted)

Whoever said students with special needs aren’t both observant and astute have obviously never spent any amount of time with children.  

I would be lying if I didn’t say Mr. Anxiety began to visit me again…about two days ago and hasn’t left. 

feeling my head with the worst case scenarios and the what ifs…..

I've been asked how excited I am many times this week, and I am excited, but also a little..how do I word this... SCARED OUT OF MY MIND.  I AM about to have MAJOR surgery and a human life is being removed (WOWZA).

But I’m trying to boot Mr. Anxiety out of my head and not let it rob my joy, and it has been a wonderful pregnancy.

As my students would say, 'don't worry, more cake please, DUH!"

Sometimes the teacher is the best learner!

All the Places We Go

One-week countdown until Carlee Anne arrives.  I’ve had the following questions/comments several times daily: do you feel miserable? (because you look it), when are you due again? (not long now), has she dropped? (you’re not going to make it), are you ready? (you better be, right?. Ha. Ha.)

True while I’ve had a very nice pregnancy and am still Blessed to be working…these last weeks have been a little rough.  The body becomes stretched to the max, feet swollen, outfits are limited, and those cute little movements turn into full-blown kicks that use your organs for exercise.  Say hello to your little best friend…the toilet (because the bladder is not your friend).

Tonight I am trying to 1. tie up loose ends  2. prepare for Read Across America Day at school.  I may have waited a little long to go to the breastfeeding class tonight offered by the local hospital.  1.  I’m not in the mood to be nice after 6pm and for two hours.  2.  My feet hurt and are the size of footballs.  Still it has been 6 years since I last nursed, and I felt I needed a refresher course (and I can be a procrastinator).

When I got information for the class, I swear they told me to go to the emergency room door entrance (I think I must have misunderstood).  As soon as I walk up the steps, a woman who looked like she smoked cigarettes for a living shouted ‘good Lawd your huge’ in a puff of smoke.   I made no eye contact and kept moving forward.  As soon as I walked in, I cleared the short emergency room line.  Are you in labor?  Are you experiencing pain?  Are you in labor!?!  A wheelchair was immediately pulled out for me.  OK people I get it, I’m HUGE, but NO I’m not in labor.  I’m not in labor.  The woman at the desk seemed a bit annoyed.  What are you doing here?  I’m here for the breastfeeding class.  The lady at the desk calls and tells someone over the phone, “I have a woman here looking for the breastfeeding class who looks like she is about to deliver right now’.  Click. Take a left down the hall, take a right, and you will be there.  You look miserable.  Gee thanks.  Not to be vain but at this point I’m not feeling so confident about the way I look.

The class was filled with couples who are having their first child.  I’m the only one who has been through this before.  I’m issued a nice little book and a baby doll that looks nothing like a real infant.  As we go through the process and all the tips I realize that some of the information out there for parents is helpful and useful, but some if it is just plain deceitful.  Allow me to rewrite some of the rules found in Breastfeeding: A Great Start.  

1.        Sleep when the baby sleeps.  Real Life Rules: do you know how a baby sleeps?  2pm, 6pm, 12am,  4am….if you are able to sporadically fall asleep instantly anytime you want and able to awaken refreshed..... then get off the drugs.

2.       Limit visitors at home.  Real Life Rules: Have you ever been to the South? Have you ever met a grandpa or grandma?  You can’t keep people away with a stun gun.

3.       Accept help from your partner, family, and friends.  Allow them to cook meals, clean house, and watch your other child.  Real Life Rules:  Ok, You had the baby for a while now, soooo  ummm...You can clean my house, cook my meals, and…watch Connor now.  Oh, you DONT want to do that. Ok then.

4.       Drink to satisfy thirst.  Real Life Rules:  Finally a good rule for mothers.  Oh wait...you don’t mean whisky do you?  Never mind then.

5.       The right mood is important for breastfeeding.  Keep the lights low and surround yourself with soft, soothing music.  Real Life Rules:  Does this count as soothing music?? 

If not, I’m out of luck.

6.       For a healthy lifestyle, try eating 3 small meals instead of 3 large meals.  Real Life Rules:  WOW Breastfeeding Book!  You just solved the world’s obesity problems.  Why didn’t I think of that?  What will you think of next….exercise to burn calories?!

7.       Make time for intimacy by talking to your partner, laughing, and sharing feelings about intimacy.  Real Life Rules:  Get away from me.  I just grew a human and I haven’t slept in a zillion weeks.

Just a few footnotes to help the new mothers.  (I’m not being hormonal at all.)

Nevertheless, who knows, maybe I’ll be just LIKE the woman on this book…rested, beautiful, thin, happy, and with a clean house! 

Until then, tomorrow I plan to take my pregnancy girth out on someone else….that’s right I plan to stretch out:   Mr. Cat in the Hat.

             It may not be fair to THE CAT, he will never be the same again, but sometimes you have to take one for the team Dr. Seuss!  Instead of the The 500 Hats of Bartholomew Cubbins it’s going to be 500 Pounds of Mrs. S. and Carlee!  Happy Birthday Dr. Seuss!

I’m not sure when I will get to blog again, big changes in the future, but I request all your prayers and have felt them every step of the way so far!  We are very excited!  In the words of Dr. Seuss…..“If things start happening, don't worry, don't stew, just go right along and you'll start happening too.”   Actually this quote better applies to me, “Being crazy isn't enough.”

With Love,
Big Mama