No news is...

No news. Yup, that cute little ticker on the right shows that today I am 40 weeks pregnant. I have had one baby come on their due date (Brooklyn), two come early (Ty and Sadie), and now...it's just a waiting game. I am scheduled to be induced if I don't go into labor before Friday. My doctor doesn't seem to think I will...sigh. It's worked out for the best, I guess, as Ty was nice enough to bring home the stomach flu Monday. So far, just me, Jake and Ty have gotten sick. Just when I was thinking it couldn't get more uncomfortable than being 40 weeks pregnant. I'm hoping I can keep my girls healthy and have this baby on Friday! If they get sick, we'll postpone the induction...and wait. I'm sure sometime two weeks from now, when I'm not getting any sleep, I'll realize being pregnant wasn't so bad (or NOT!). Wish us luck!

Once Upon a Time

Once upon a time, more than 5 years ago, I used to lament the fact that new moms had little in the way of private time. Often, I would share this frustation with other young, new mothers; and find the same issues. Showers, in this new stage of motherhood, were a rare luxury. After going a day or two without showering (not that it mattered, I wasn't going anywhere) I would resolve myself to allowing time for a short shower. I would tow either the baby monitor (if Brooklyn was sleeping) or the baby herself in a bouncy seat into the bathroom, so that she didn't have a single moment of need. Even at that, I would shower as quickly as possible, as to be able to meet her every demand, immediately. After all, the experts say that it is important to respond quickly to your baby, that will establish trust, and then they will cry less because they trust you to take care of them (ha, ha, those experts).
Five years later, I have learned this: kids cry. They will cry whether or not you respond. In fact, it is possible that too quick of a response will inicit more crying, because they learn that as soon as they make a peep, Mom jumps into action. So, this morning in the shower, I relished in the hot water as I overheard all three of my kids at the door. Whining, talking, asking questions, crying, etc. was all part of it. I did not feel guilty that the door was locked. It did not ruin my shower. I did not feel any pressure to shower more quickly (in fact, knowing what was awaiting me probably made me stay there longer). I figure, when all of them are at the door, at least I know where they are and what they are doing. I would probably be more worried and hurried if I didn't hear any noise outside the door.
Now, of course, this will all change within the next week, as I add a new baby to the mix. I'm certainly not trusting enough of the level of care that his siblings will/will not provide to leave a new baby unsupervised...but I might be able to still lock that door, take the baby inside the bathroom, and enjoy a shower (even if he wimpers or whines a bit). After all, every other second of my life is dedicated to them; a shower isn't much to ask (besides, Brooklyn and Ty are now old enough to tell me that I STINK!)

The Organ Piper

If you live here in Milwaukee, and you have been to The Organ Piper, this is SO Wisconsin. It's a little morbid...but talk about a way to go! (If you haven't been to The Organ Piper, it is a "cultural" experience on par with demolition derbys and the tour of Miller brewery.) It's even family-friendly...it's like Chuckee-Cheese, but less refined. It is the kind of place that you think would be great for the filming of a horror show. Basically, you sit in a huge room and eat pizza; while the organ player plays tunes at the front of the room. He can play about ANYTHING from memory, and all over the room are strange accessories to the organ (drums, dancing bears, wooden ducks, lights, extra pipes, bells, whistles etc.) that are played with the organ.
http://www.jsonline.com/news/milwaukee/82129637.html

Miss Sadie

I haven't posted pictures in a long time. Sorry about all the ranting and raving and serious lack of cute kid pictures. My camera is a bit out of commission. I was just looking for Christmas pictures to post, and apparently, we only got video. Bummer.
Miss Sadie loves the snow. As I get ready for a new baby, it is crazy to see that my "baby" Sadie is a real little girl. She officially graduated this week from 18-month clothes, which is actually a huge step for her. The past few months, she has actually had a bit of a growth spurt, I was just late in pulling out too-small clothes. She can still fit waist-wise, but her pants were capris. She is actually almost as tall as Ty, it's something that oddly snuck up on me and I hadn't realized. Yay!

Contributing to the Delienquency of Minors

Over the past few weeks, Jake and I have had several experiences that are leading me to believe that possibly my children's behavioral problems are made worse by society. While I spend much of my life trying to teach my children that they are not entitled to everything they want, those around me seem determined to thwart my efforts.

Take yesterday, for example. After a trip to the museum, Jake and I decided to take them out to eat. Really "out to eat", as in, actually eating inside an dining establishment. Typically, if we "eat out" we lean towards drive-thrus and take-out. Seriously, would you want to eat in public with my kids? Anyway, we certainly didn't choose anywhere super-nice to eat, just a hot dog shop on Marquette's campus. Baby steps. Maybe if a few times a year I take them somewhere like that, they can learn to act like real people when eating out by the time they're 15.

Anyway, so here's where it gets good. We make it into the store, help the kids decide what to order (big decision, corny dog or hot dog) and get them settled at a table. Thankfully, school is almost out and the place was quiet. After ordering, Brooklyn began to whine about wanting chips. We tried to explain that we didn't choose chips today...we had delicious hot dogs...normal parent stuff. The guy behind the counter began holding up a bag of chips for her as we spoke. Yeah, he gave 'em to her, as if the only thing holding us back from giving her chips was the dollar we would have to pay for them. Then, I went to fill up their drinks. Because water is less sticky than root beer, I had chosen to get them water to drink. As I began to fill their cups, again, Brooklyn started in on the whining, wanting soda. Before I could tell her no, the guy behind the counter said, "c'mon, they can have whatever they want!" Arggg! Lastly, as we were leaving, Ty started in on the chips again, he wanted more, or a different variety, or some crazy demand. Jake and I glared at our new friend, and kindly, but firmly, said "no chips". He went behind the counter and picked up a plate of homemade muffins and presented each of my greedy children with one! So undermining...but so "nice". What's a parent to do?

A similar thing happened a few weeks ago. Jake was at Kinkos with Brooklyn and Ty. He had to print off something for school. He had told the kids that IF they were good THEN he would buy a candy for them. They were NOT good, and as he was checking out, they were both sobbing about the loss of their treat and making promises of future goodness. He stuck to his word and didn't buy them candy. Then, the lady working there handed them a candy bar and told Jake that she wanted to buy it for them. She felt bad for them, listening to them cry. Hey lady, are you going to feel bad for them, when they become juvenile delinquents? Will you send them candy in jail? Sigh. I think it has something to do with bleeding heart college-age kids; who have no idea how much they are corrupting my kids. Good thing that the majority of my time is spent places where either I am surrounded by understanding moms (who know better than to never intervene, other than maybe to give ME a candy bar to help ME cope); and older people, who are infamous for unsolicited advice and dirty looks when my kids misbehave. Hey, I'll take it, over indulging my kids!

Bottom-Tier Friends -- Not Card-Worthy

I'm in a quandary this holiday season. One of my favorite holiday traditions is giving and receiving Christmas cards. I have a "special" place where I put all of them up; I can see them regularly and I am reminded of how blessed I am with beloved family and friends across the country. Everyone has their own set of "rules" regarding Christmas cards. Some people, send them to everyone. Some people (like myself) send them to friends and family who are not "close". ("Close" is somewhat relative, as I send cards to members of my church congregation in West Bend Wisconsin, only about 25 minutes away. For me, "close" friends are those that I see on a regular basis; and I make goodies for them instead of a card.) Anyway, card worthiness is certainly an issue in friendship; especially when most of us have many "friends", due to the ease of reconnecting online.

This is where I get to my peeve. I've received several email Christmas cards this year. Love ya friends, but can I say, tacky? Am I not worth the buck or so it would cost you to print and mail a card? How am I supposed to reciprocate? Do I keep you on my Christmas list, or do I create a list of bottom-tier friends for whom our relationship is strictly digital? What do I do with an email card? Am I supposed to print it out myself and put it with my other cards? What about people who have emailed me that I wasn't planning to mail? Is it the same as when I get an unexpected card in the mail and then reciprocate? Do I just hit "reply"? There are no easy answers, although if you get a digital card, you will know that you have been put on my "bottom-tier" list. Am I off on this, or does doing a digital card ruin all of the fun? I just can't help but ask myself, "did they send cards to their 'better' friends?"

Hooray for a New Week!!!

So, to say the least, last week wasn't really the best. When I saw my OB on Friday, he asked me how I was doing (emotionally). It was hard to get a real clear picture of how I'm doing. Yes, I did spend a good part of my week with tears; but a good part of my week was just not so peachy.

On Wednesday, Brooklyn has "early release" and gets out of school one hour early. That day, I went at my regular time to pick her up, and I immediately knew something was amiss when I got to the school and I didn't have to run over anyone to find a place to park. I realized what I had done, and rushed into the office of the school to find Brooklyn. The secretary was useless, and said that any kids that don't get picked up go to the lunchroom. I have a daughter in junior kindergarten, she doesn't even eat lunch, I don't know where the lunchroom is. She rolled her eyes and explained it to me. When I got there, Brooklyn wasn't there either. Panic set in at that point. Another teacher told me some kids had been sent to yet another room. Thankfully, it was there that I found Brooklyn and she was with a teacher's aide that I know from her classroom. Of course, the combination of stress, relief, embarrassment, joy, stupidity, and anger (why didn't someone CALL me?) collided and I burst into tears. Fortunately, Brooklyn was the bigger person in the situation, and she was fine.

The next day, as I was dropping her off for school, I stepped out to help her out of the car and onto the sidewalk. I left Sadie and Ty in the car, it was still running (after all, I was just stepping out). Anyway, the doors locked behind me; with kids, purse, cell phone, and keys all locked in the car. Again, the tears came rolling in and I borrowed a cell phone to call Jake. Jake being the smart one between the two of us (and the smart alec) pointed out that I could instruct Ty how to unlock the doors. After a few minutes of screaming and gesturing in sub zero temps, I was back inside my warm car with my kiddos.

Then, here's the kicker, and absolute salute to my stupdity/bad week. On Saturday morning, I was making oatmeal. I took it (piping hot) out of the microwave, and sat it on the counter. It fell off of the counter and the oatmeal landed on my foot. Of course, I got serious burns all over my foot. It was incredible pain. I'm not a screamer, but I was screaming trying to get the oatmeal off. We didn't want to have to go to the doctor, mainly because I hate it when they say, "yeah dummy, your burnt your foot, keep cool compresses on it...take a few tylenol..etc". Often, a doctors advice is not worth paying for. Anyway, we were putting cool compresses on it and it was still killing me. About an hour later, I was trying to relax in a recliner, and I started to feel faint and nauseated; then I blacked out. Jake at that point decided to take me to the ER. On the way, I continued to feel awful, and managed to throw up all over myself...so embarrassing when I went to the ER.

They treated my burn in the ER, and fortunately were able to give me fluids, meds for nausea, and meds for pain (and a tetanus shot too...ouch...still hurts today). After treating my burn (all they could do was get me out of pain and put on antibiotic cream and bandages...they supposedly have awesome burn cream, but they can't give it to pregnant ladies)...they did an EKG and checked my vitals to see if they could see why I blacked out. Then, I had to go up to their Labor and Delivery unit to have the baby monitored for a few hours (he was fine). In the end, they think that I blacked out for two reasons: one, sheer pain; two, the position I was sitting in may have put the baby on one of my veins and temporarily blocked bloodflow to my brains.

What a story! It's not funny yet, but I'm sure it will be someday. The best question of the day (from the ER doc): "Were you wearing shoes when this happened?" (Duh dude, check out those second-degree burns covering the top of my foot...whaddya think?). He then replied, "You probably would not have been burned so badly if you had been wearing shoes" (Thanks man, you rock. Did you have to go to med school to dispense awesome advice like that? I somehow missed that on the package of oatmeal I was preparing that I should have protective footwear)

Fortunately, I'm getting better (me and my prescription pain killers). I'm hoping for the best this week. On a happy note, I heard a Christmas song this morning that really put me in tune with the season, and maybe took out some of my frustration from last week. After all, last year, it was on December 19 (one day before my 30th birthday, 6 days before Christmas) that I experienced a miscarriage. The song "Where are you Christmas?" really hit home for me last year; as I had a hard time finding joy in the holiday when I was in so much physical and emotional pain. When I heard that song again today, my kids were somewhat happily eating lunch together, and the pains and aches of pregnancy and burns seemed somehow insignificant. Christmas is here.