It’s hard raising a four year old.
It’s even harder raising a four year old who’s addicted to Pixar movies.
MM: MB4, is your drink supposed to be in the living room? I don’t think so.
MB4: Are you my conscience? [insert his snickers here]
Fuck Thank you Dory.
Past two weeks, I’ve been thrilled to find that MG’s diaper is dry when I go to change her in the morning. She still shows no interest in potty training, but it was a start.
Then I walked down the steps this morning to find MB3 changing her pants. Seems he’s been doing this for two weeks now – just wanted to help you out mom.
I’m not sure what this 8 year old will do with his life someday, but I’m pretty damn sure I’ll be just as proud then too.
Just figured our taxes. Not bad. Enough for the boys to get some new furniture and for us to knock a few things off of our wish list. Then I’ll bank the rest for a rainy day.
MB5 is three weeks old today. I’ll try to get some pics up, but my camera is … one sec while I add camera to the wish list … really on its last leg. He has more awake time during the day now. He’s a cute little man. Those curious gorgeous eyes…
And now that I’ve wasted half the morning, I have bathrooms to scrub. Yay me.
I’m typing with two hands right now. Going to enjoy it while it lasts. I’m actually willing to crash early tonight since the little man is sleeping so soundly, but MG Bear has decided she must watch Nemo one more time today. I’d tell her no, but she has a nasty owie from touching a light bulb about an hour ago, and she looks so pathetic.
After having a heart attack over the gas bill last week, I had the pleasure of opening my water bill today. Seems we now pay $30 more a month for the sewer portion, and since they cut the month short on the last billing cycle thanks to the holidays, this month was super long. Add in the fact that they didn’t even fucking read the meters last month – they just guesstimated – our bill was $60 higher than normal. Thankyouverymuch.
I am the kind of person who pays her bills without bitching. Usually. I have no problem writing out the bills each month, because I am one thankful bitch to have these luxuries in the first place. I sure couldn’t live without any of my utilities. Laura Wilder I am not.
But shit. When my gas bill is $80 above the norm because of price increases and this below zero weather – yet my house is still chilly willy all the time? Fuck that. I’d pay the money gladly if my ass was warm. But it’s not. And I sure hate a cold ass. Not as much as a cold wet ass, but close.
And the water? Geezus. We conserve like bad bitches around here. I am a militant little troll when it comes to taking it easy on the water usage. And it’s all for nothing. Feels like it anyway. Gawd, what would the bill be if I wasn’t a hard ass about it?
I’ll pay my bills like a good little bitch this month, but I won’t do it with an appreciative smile on my face this time. They can kiss my frozen ass – and I hope their lips get stuck to it.
It’s 9 degrees outside. That’s it. Just 9. It’s asscheek freezing cold outside and I am going apeshit in this house. My hands are dying a slow horrible crackling death. This house fucking sucks in the winter. The thermostat is on the HELL setting, and it still only brings the temp up to barely livable. So many leaks, so many drafts, so little plastic. Gas bill is impressive. And that’s not a good thing. We winterize winterize winterize, yet the cold air still sneaks in somehow. We all have fuzzy slippers this year for survival against the bathroom tile. When Hot and Cold Collide isn’t Dairy Queen’s slogan anymore, it describes the mind snapping feeling of sitting in a tub that’s full of 2000 degree water, yet the bottom is still an icy cold slap on your ass.
I hate the cold I hate the cold I hate the cold.
They interview for that job tomorrow. MD thinks they’ve been trying to ’soften the blow’ lately. He is convinced they are giving it to the boss’ friend – which may very well be the case. He said he’s ok with it, but his eyes say differently. He doesn’t really give a shit about the title, he just wants the validation that he’s doing a great job. Don’t we all hon, don’t we all.
—
We had a long talk Saturday morning before the kids came home. I’ve been feeling very lonely the past few months, and I guess these post-baby hormones brought it to a head. I know it wasn’t his fault – couples drift apart all the time when you’re busy. You assume that your relationship is the strongest anchor in your life, and allow yourself to neglect it while you tend to everything else that pops up. It’s so very easy to lose sight of each other every now and then. Thankfully, it’s also very easy to reconnect.
So, we spent that morning catching up. It allowed us the chance to remember what each other’s needs are. Has done wonders for my mood. Unfortunately, it has also increased my desire to reconnect on other levels as well. My baby boy is 3 weeks old tomorrow, I’d like a little cooperation from my body here. Please.
MB5 had his first appointment this morning. Almost 8lbs already. That’s my boy.
Boys are home from school again today. Think there might be an inch of snow outside – and that’s if you measuring a drift. Kids love it now, but they’ll be singing a sad tune in May when these days are tacked on at the end – when it’s gorgeous outside.
Alrighty. That early appointment and the chit chat with mom afterward threw me off schedule. I have shit to do.
The only problem with a sweet baby boy who stops crying when his mama holds him?
Mama never gets a damn break.
Here it is. And remember, I am a stay at home mom. This list is geared for me and my schedule. If you work outside the home (or work out of your home), this list will only make you frustrated. My cleaning schedule was completely different when I was working.
It also evolves over time as my life changes. Be flexible, and don’t let changes make you loony. I follow this list every week whether things appear to need it or not – then if I ever need to skip a day for appointments (or because I just don’t feel like doing it), it will keep until the next week.
It looks overwhelming, but it’s really not. Nor does it take very long because nothing ever gets a chance to get disgustingly filthy. I deep clean one room every day – that’s it. Small and manageable tasks – unless I’m feeling energetic and feel like tackling more. Although there is still regular cleaning every day (dishes, laundry, pee on the bathroom floor, etc) – at least the major cleaning keeps the house easy to maintain with pick-ups and wipe-downs.
I’m sure I’ve left off a ton of things, but there really isn’t a ‘list’. I just turn on the music, enter a room, and clean my way around it – wall by wall.
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What a busy weekend.
Older boys ALL spent the night away from home on Friday. Had I not still been at the mercy of my postpartum body – there would have been some serious ceiling fan swinging going on that night. Instead, we rented a movie and went to sleep. I’ll be pouting about this for a very long time.
Then the boys all had friends over on Saturday night, and we borrowed Freddy vs MD. Stupid ass movie, but add in some Halloween masks and 6 screaming little males, and it made for a very fun night indeed. My goal was to make them piss their pants, but the girl-screams and backward boogaloo dances were just as satisfying.
Sunday morning, I opened my eyes to see the clock reading 10am. My darling husband had kept all 4000 children quiet with his magical powers, and let me catch up on some much needed shut eye. As I stumbled my way downstairs, he promptly got up and fixed brunch. Did damn near the whole thing by himself – no easy feat for that many kiddos. That man is pretty damn close to perfection. And he’s mine.
We’ve struggled for many years on the issue of chores. A part of us thought that chores should just be something you do as part of a family, and the other part didn’t want our kids to feel like servants – much like we did as children. So far, this system seems to fall somewhere in the middle. They haven’t bitched about being overworked, and I’m pleased with the level of help.
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Lots of emails about the chore chart and cleaning list/routine. I’ll post them both, but just remember that what works for my family and our life, might not work for yours. You’d only frustrate yourself more by trying to force it to.
Use ‘em as a guide and shape them to suit your life. After you have created a game plan, give it a test run for a week or two – I’ve always had to make adjustments until I found the perfect fit. And even then, soccer season rolls around and fucks it up. Be flexible. And be consistent. Stick to it. You can make the bestest GrandMasterPlan in whole wide world, but it ain’t worth a shit if you never follow it.
Chatting with a friend today who asked if I was done having kids. Told her I had a tubal the day after MB5 was born, and MD was getting fixed soon. She rolled her eyes and proceeded to tell me that he wasn’t broken, so would I please not use the word fixed.
Sure thing. Dumbass.
I am so sick and tired of people like this. Nothing better to do than sit around and dream up more fucking rules for this world of ours. Bite me.
I’m pissed that I can’t send Christmas cards out anymore, because last year some buttmunch emailed a nasty ass comment about being Jewish. Well excuse the shit out of me. If I were Jewish, and someone sent me a Christmas card, I would not be offended. Shit, send my white ass a Kwanzaa card if it pleases you. I’d just be glad you considered me friend enough to send it in the first place. The basic message to enjoy the holiday wouldn’t get lost with me.
This year I sent out a generic Happy Holidays card that took 47 hours to phrase the greeting in a way that wouldn’t offend anyone. Next year? Santa Fucking Claus all around – I’m tired of thinking about this shit. If you don’t like it, go on ahead and tell me about it. Bet your rotten ass won’t be parked in my addy book for long.
I’m not sure I believe in God, but I’m not going to beat you down with a shovel if you bless me after I sneeze. Nor will I jump all over your ass if you decide to pray for me. Again – I’d just be thankful to have someone like you in my life that cares enough about me to do it. Why is that train of thought so fucking hard to comprehend?
Because we’re surrounded by idiots, that’s why.
MB3 is spending the night at a friend’s house Friday. Big news for him. Sad news for me. My kids are growing up no matter what the hell I do. I swear MB1’s voice is starting to change. He’ll be 13 next month, so I guess I shouldn’t be so surprised, but damn. That’s all. Damn.
MB5 is settling in nicely around here. He’s still a power nurser during the day, but he has a sleep stretch from about 10pm-3am. Not too bad for a little one. Makes me happy anyway. MB4 is very protective of him. I didn’t expect that. He sits in the room when anyone comes over to visit, just to make sure they aren’t planning on taking him home. It’s very sweet. He will sit on the couch and ask to hold him 50 times a day – and he holds him like a pro. Older boys are old hats at babies by now. If MB5 cries while I am busy getting dinner ready or whatever, one of them will pick him up and quiet him down until I get to a stopping point. They make my life so easy sometimes.
We are trying out a new chore list. Working pretty well so far. Ones in the past took too much bullshit on my end, and I couldn’t stick to it. This one is pretty simple. I still need to follow-up and check on things, but so far – they haven’t missed a beat. We made the new system more of a team effort, and they are finally working together to make sure shit gets done. Finally. Made the consequences simple too – and defined. There’s nothing left to discussion – it’s done, or else blahblahblah. Puts the choice back on them. They know exactly what will happen, and the decision is theirs. I like that. I’m not the bad guy that way. Well, I’m still the bad guy who enforces the rules, but it’s forcing them to take more responsibility for their actions. New list was also set up in a way that each kiddo gets alone time with mom and dad. I’m so afraid someone will feel slighted in this big family, so that was important to me.
I have been in top form this week. Up and dressed every day with no jammy days to encourage fiddle fucking around on the puter. I stuck to my cleaning list, and things are easier already on me as a result. I have had dinner on the table every night when MD walks in the door – and all but the plates and utensils washed before I even sit down to eat. I’ve managed to successfully occupy the wee ones long enough after school to give each older kiddo some one on one homework time with mom, and MG and MB4 have been given a slightly later bathtime with dad in order to get some time in with him in the evening.
Now if I could just force myself to take my ass to bed at a decent hour, life would be perfect.
Thanks for the test posts. Much obliged.
Starting to whip this house back into shape. Sure is fucking filthy considering all I did was declutter and clean the past month or so. Guess the pregnancy skewed my standards.
My sister is coming over in a bit to hog up the baby. She is going back home next week.
MG got into the toothpaste last night and decorated her body with it. I thought I had cleaned her up pretty well, but found some in her hair this morning. Hair that she handed to me because it had fallen the hell off of her head. I had no idea toothpaste could melt hair like that. I threw her in the tub and did a number on her head, but not in time to save a few more strands from jumping ship. Mighty attractive hairdo she has going on right now. Gawd.
Ok, enough screwing around. I got a house to scour.
I was told that a few people are having problems posting comments.
Are you?
Not that there would be any way to escape from watching American Idol tonight in this house, but geezus – there ain’t a fucking thing on tv tonight anyway. My brain is a little too wired to watch the State of the Union jazz. HBO is playing something from a year or two ago – like always. I’d cancel that bitch if it wasn’t for Sunday nights.
I just might be forced to rent a damn movie. Why does this shit always happen on the nights I NEED to sit and vegetate in front of the tube?
Had a few errands to run this morning. I did rather well incorporating my newest carry along into the picture. I will have to work harder at remembering the diaper bag though. It might not be so important for 2/3 year olds, but you had better not forget that bitch with a newborn.
I swear the little man just coo’ed at me.
I’m down to my pre-pregnancy weight. Not exactly worthwhile news though. Only means I’ve lost the mere 10lbs I gained while pregnant. Doesn’t touch the 16 extra pounds of assfat I Rolo’ed my way into right before killing the rabbit. At least I’m wearing jeans today that don’t have an attractive stretch panel on the front. And simply having jeans with pockets again is enough to make me smile.
I’m tired of the cold weather already. Move along please. I’ve got a serious case of cabin fever now that I can walk and breathe and cough without pissing myself again. I’m ready to rejoin the living. Well, some of the living.
I can feel things returning to normal. Around here, and inside of me. Back to the routine of life. Back to the sarcastic crank that I’ve always been. Back to being able to eat whatever I want. Back to being able to concentrate on shit. Back to being in control. Back to feeling like a woman again as well. A woman that is going to force herself to wait one two more weeks before she buys some wine, gets out the frozen milk stash, puts the kids to bed early, and gets reacquainted with her husband.
I love it when I get my me back. Every bitchy, nasty, tart-y ounce of it.
People that have the financial means to pay their bills, but don’t …
People that get something for free, and then have the balls to bitch about it …
People that laugh at me for buying generic to save money so that I can pay my bills …
People that make more than us, have a house handed to them for free with no payments, get a free fucking car, don’t budget their money, are always flat broke, then try to cry on my shoulder about how mean the bill collectors are…
should all just suck a big fat smelly hairy festering donkey pecker.
thanks Kate
thanks Allison
thanks TurtleMama
Just noticed that my post times are correct now. This makes me happy.
Now if only blogroll would ping on its own, my life would be complete.
First day on my own. MD was up and out of here around 5am. That’s a wee bit early. I might have viewed that as proof he was losing his fucking mind last week staying home with me, but I know there’s talk of a new position in the shop. Official Q&A guy. He’s been doing it un-officially for months now, but we’ll see what happens. There is one other guy there that has the brains to do the job, but not the seniority – but he was brought in by MD’s boss, so we just don’t know.
Regardless, I’m damn proud of the name he’s making for himself – by himself. It would have been very easy to coast along on the name of my father – who brought MD in – but he hasn’t. He busts his ass every day to show them that he was worth hiring. If he isn’t given this position, I know in my gut it’s because there is something else even better on down the road. Something worth waiting for.
Anyhoooo….it’s just me and the kids today. No school. I’m back to my routine and feeling fine. Living room got it’s deep cleaning this morning, rest of the house has been picked up, and the laundry is almost done.
Older boys have offered to keep an eye on the wee one if I want to hop in the tub. I hope it’s out of kindness, and they’re not trying to gently suggest that my nasty ass needs cleanin’. Either way – I ain’t passing it up.
I had forgotten about a nursing mom’s favorite thing to do – eat. Or should I say graze. Good gawd, all I do is eat. EatEatEat.
Get up in the morning, stuff a Hostess cupcake in my mouth to settle the demons squeezing the life out of my stomach. Maybe gobble down a few handfuls of Cheezits. Have a bowl (or two) of Cookie Crisp with milk – and I fucking detest milk.
Make it about an hour, then head back to the Cheezits. Start lunch an hour early. What was supposed to be a simple grilled cheese has turned into some sort of melt with leftover meat from last night stuffed into the center.
Last thirty minutes after lunch before ingesting another cupcake. Try to hang on until dinner, but fail miserably and hit the snack cabinet every hour on the hour. Double portions for dinner, and a game plan for the after dinner snack in the works before the dishes are even done.
Then of course, is the Angie time snack – which has my house smelling delish as I type. Oatmeal cookie anyone?
I have a feeling this pooch I’m toting around is never going to go away.
These night sweats are starting to chap my ass. No one warned me about them. I don’t like getting up at night to change clothes and bedding. I hope they end soon.
He’s sleeping better at night, and if I would just take my ass to bed earlier, I wouldn’t be tired in the morning. Hard to give up that Angie time at night though. I enjoy it way too much.
Doing a lot of nothing this weekend. Trying to cram in a few more days of R&R before MD heads back to work on Monday. I think he’s ready to go back. He enjoyed his time off, but we’re both creatures of habit. He needs to get back to business at work, and I need my routine back. I’m miss having him around though.
Took a few more pictures, and I should get around to uploading them later on. I’ve just been challenged to a game of MP5, and I must go kick some ass now.
MB2’s quiz bowl meet today….
Question: What does the company Boeing manufacture?
MB2: Springs?
Only my son.
MD went to the store for me. Mongo grocery list. He should be gone awhile. He’s bored shitless, and I am running out of chores for him to do. He is itching to rip up the living room carpet. There is a gorgeous hardwood floor just waiting to be uncovered, but I’m just not up to that task right now. And I’m not sure I want hardwood floors right now anyway – no matter how ugly this carpet is. I need to think things through. He’s not a think-through’er kind of guy. He’s pouting as a result.
MB5 is in my lap, staring around at his new world. He hardly ever fusses – just when he’s hungry or being accosted with a sponge bath. Same as the other kiddos. I can’t imagine what it’s like to have a screamer. My sister was a screamer. Probably why I tried to kill her. Some days, I can’t believe our luck. We’ve had 6 healthy, intelligent, mellow children. No colic, no screamers, no reflux, no gassy crabs – just wonderful babies. I don’t take that for granted either – I know I couldn’t handle a fussy baby.
He’s a week old today. A week old. It’s been 7 days. Holy shit, someone pass me a stop time spell before that week turns into a month … then a year.
I’m outta here. Going to stare at him for awhile.
The smell of pine-sol no longer floats my boat, but I think I might need a 12 step program for this crushed ice addiction.
MD is off running errands for me. I sure will miss having him around next week.
I have new batteries for my camera. Beware.
I need to wake up the little man to nurse, but I am so enjoying this quiet time. I’ll be paying for this shit at 3am.
His latch was great the first few days, but now it sucks. I’m not sure how to properly correct this. Right now I just keep trying over and over until he gets it right.
MG just took off with 4 new bath sponges giggling with glee. I can’t think of anything sinister she could do with these sponges, but I had better not sit here for too much longer.
I received the new filters I ordered for my vacuum, and it’s purring like a kitten. This makes me smile.
This also makes me very fucking pathetic.
What is the middle name of the first person you ever slept with?
Allen
What kind of underwear are you wearing and what color?
bikinis – pink
What is the song you want played at your funeral?
Have always wanted Wish You Were Here / Pink Floyd. Those who knew the song and ‘got it’ would nod and smile. Those who didn’t, well … the looks on their faces would sure liven the place up.
What would your last meal be before getting executed?
Big fatty steak and some garlic mashed potatoes. Hot homemade bread. Mozzarella sticks. Buffalo Wings. Cinnamon Dippers from Ground Round.
Beatles or Stones?
Beatles
If you had to pick one person on earth who should die, who would it be?
anyone who’s hurt a child
The person whose problems you would never want to hear again?
those who never do a damn thing to fix the situation
What is the thing most important to you (as far as physical) about the preferred sex?
chest/hands – like ‘em strong – makes me feel safe
Do you secretly hate some of your friendsters but are too nice to reject them?
I’m not that nice of a person. If I don’t like you, you’ll know it.
If you could have any super power what would it be?
Healing
Favorite hangover cure?
Hair of the dog
How many drinks does it take to get you drunk?
Depends on my mood. Usually 3 to 5.
Favorite Outkast lyric?
Huh?
Hair color you most like someone you’re dating to have?
Dark
If you had to be blind or deaf?
Tough one, but I guess deaf. I want to see my grandchildren.
Do you have any psychiatric problems?
Not today
Siblings that should go to rehab?
My sister is June Cleaver
Least favorite month?
September – it’s just really boring
First movie you can remember seeing as a kid?
The Legacy – also spent the next week in my parent’s bed
Favorite person in the whole world?
MD
When’s the last time you went on a date?
MD and I haven’t been out in about 4 years. We make plans, but something always comes up. I’m hoping that we can work something out in April for our anniversary.
Do you like violent movies or dirty movies?
Considering the fact that I seem to be in a constant state of arousal the past few days – you figure it out.
Fall or spring?
Both.
Person you most wish you hadn’t made out with?
Be easier to list the ones I don’t regret.
If you are straight, what person of the same sex would you do it with?
That tomb raider gal.
Where do you want to live when you are old and brittle?
Florida
Who is the person you can count on most?
MD
If you could date any celebrity past or present, time and age are not factors?
Wouldn’t want to date anyone, I’m happy with my man. Now I do have a rather long list of of guys I’d like to use for a few hours…
What books have you pretended you’ve read?
A chapter from my social studies book in the 7th grade maybe?
What’s a word you would use to describe your life?
Complete
Favorite drinking game?
jello body shots? is that a game?
What did you dream last night?
must sleep in order to dream
Favorite bands?
too many to list
Last night was wonderful. Co-sleeping at its best. Still tired as hell, but that’ll pass.
Pain is starting to ease up. Tummy is still sore from the tubal/hernia surgery, but the cramps aren’t as gut-wrenching anymore. They put a tube in my throat during surgery I guess, and ripped that little fleshy ball thingy that sits in the back. Doesn’t really hurt, but it causes an annoying sensation when I swallow. Hope that shit heals soon too.
Trying to correct MB5’s snacker approach to nursing. He did a lot better today, but it will take awhile to fix my BoulderBoobs at this rate.
I will never again take a satisfying piss for granted. If you’ve ever had a baby, a bladder infection, or a kidney stone – you know what I’m talking about.
The realization that I have been surgically sterilized sinks in more and more each day. I find this extremely arousing for some reason.
I’m still thinking that life is pretty wonderful sometimes.
When dealing with a newborn human, it is wise to safeguard your sanity by not allowing assumptions to be accepted as truths.
For example:
Just because said newborn took the binky with no problems the first night of his life, doesn’t necessarily mean he will continue to do so. He is a humanoid creature, capable of great learning, and he will soon figure out that the squishy nipple yields no goodies. When he does, you’re screwed.
Just because said newborn only woke 3 times to nurse the first two nights, doesn’t mean he can’t make a complete turnaround – demanding nutrition every 3 minutes until the alarm goes off and you must get up and get everyone ready for school. At which time you must prepare yourself for the severe mind-fucking that will occur when he deems it now appropriate to get some shut-eye.
Just because he seems to be equipped with a built in boob-detector, doesn’t mean he will be able to find his way in the dark. He might prefer to study and view his food before consumption, taking the perfect art of co-sleeping and chucking it right out the window.
My eyes haven’t been this crunchy in a very long time.
I’ve never been given a prescription for painkillers after having a baby. Never. So when they handed me one this time, I was surprised. Was even more surprised when the nurse gave me my instructions for these meds. I was told to take 8 regular strength Motrin and 2 percocets every 6 hours. Geezus.
I’ve been taking half that. Those percocets make me sleepy as hell. My next round was supposed to be at 6pm. I decided to skip it altogether being the tough little bitch I am.
It’s now a little after one in the morning, and I’m sitting here rocking back and forth trying to make the 8 ibuprofen and 2 percocets I just gobbled down work a little fucking faster please oh please work faster I’m dying over here.
I love having MD home. He’s never been able to take a few days off before, and wow does it help having help. The house is clean, laundry is kept up, and meals just magically appear when they’re supposed to. I went to bed at 8pm last night, and he handled the night routine alone. I just adore my husband.
MB4 walks by the baby, rubs his cheek, and must then let us know (again) that he really really really loves him. Then he flashes this my-heart-is-about-to-burst smile and starts giving out hugs and kisses to everyone.
MG is torn between delight and jealousy. We knew she would be. Trying to shower her with attention and include her in the ‘baby’ duties. Seems to be working.
MB3 is … well – MB3. Going to be one helluva father someday. He’s so helpful to me. Willing to do even the nasty jobs. Always with a smile on his face. Always puts a smile on mine to see him like that.
MB2 and MB1 have come a long way from the day they were both pissed over those two pink lines. MB1 tries so hard to be a manly man these days, and it’s hard to keep that up with a newborn in the house. One of these days, I hope he realizes that it takes a real man to make coochiecoo faces at a baby.
As for me, I’m still tired as hell. Happy though. Content. And amazingly enough – peaceful. I now have 6 kids, and I’m filled with a sense of peace. Go figure.
Not going to turn this blog into Picture Central, but I couldn’t resist posting these.
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Yes, it would seem that those cervical mojo vibes worked. My undying gratitude to everyone who helped me out.
I was getting ready for my OB appt Thursday, and noticed I was having a couple of contractions. Watched the clock for a bit, saw that they were scattered, and ignored them.
I left the house about 1:50pm. By the time I arrived in the doc’s parking lot 30 minutes later, they were 6-7 minutes apart. Was starting to kick myself for not bringing MD with me to the appt. I had also stranded him there with the kids by taking the van. Not smart.
As I waited in the lobby, they scooted to 5 minutes apart. My nurse came out to call someone else’s name, saw the look on my face, and asked if I needed something. Told her I might need a doctor. She took me back immediately, and the doc came in and checked me. Said I was 5cm, completely effaced, and should be in L&D instead of the office. Told him I needed to go get MD – and he flipped out. Said there was no time. We compromised, and I went to my mom’s a block away and my sister went to get MD and the kids.
About 45 minutes later, I realized that I needed to get going with or without MD, and mom drove me over. MD was right behind us anyway.
I was on 7cm, and the nurses flew around getting the room ready. She did my labwork, and checked me again to see if getting an epidural was out of the question – can’t get one past 8cm. That was when things got nuts.
She ran out of the room hollering for the u/s machine. Said she felt something ‘off’, and was thinking he was breech. But the u/s showed that he wasn’t. Doc came in and felt the same thing. I never completely understood what they thought they felt, but the possibilities were bad from what they said. Like something was ‘in the way’ or not where it was supposed to. They needed to make sure it wasn’t the placenta or the baby’s blood vessels most importantly.
The sonogram dept came down, but they still couldn’t see things clearly. Things got crazy again. The doctor started ripping off my jewelry, nurses started unhooking everything, and they literally flew me to the surgery room. Plan was to do a transvaginal sonogram, take a peek inside with a flashlight and a speculum (I am not kidding), and break my water to see how baby reacted (Did I mention that the nurse and I were taking turns holding the hb monitor in place?). If everything went ok – they would transport me back over to my room for a vaginal delivery. But if not – I’d be ready for an emergency c-section.
I was not thrilled. No one seemed to give a damn that I was in hard labor while they poked and prodded and peeked and moved and shoved and told me to go here/hop on this/climb over here.
They had me get onto the surgical table, and started their tests. Sonogram and manual check were fine, so she broke my water. It was then she finally caught a clue that I wasn’t going to make it back to my room. It was then that I realized that I was pushing with no drugs. I was not happy about that. I can handle contractions – but I suck at pushing.
There was no time to even switch back to the other bed. I was stuck on that tiny surgical slab. Had to grab my thighs, and pray that the nurses were going to help me balance so I didn’t flop off the table. Was not the best position to push. Took about 4 ctxs, and out he came.
They checked him over real quick, stitched up my tear (with no numbing agent I might add), and wheeled us back over to my dumbfounded family. MD had been allowed to come over with me and be there for the delivery – but he was restricted to watching from the hallway for everything else.
Was an experience I won’t soon forget, But at least he’s here and he’s healthy. He also doesn’t sleep at night and likes to power nurse. Why doesn’t this surprise me.
I pinched a nerve in my shoulder somehow. Gawd awful pain. Guts are sore from the tubal surgery. Stitches from the tear are hinting that it was no small affair. And these after birth cramps are on a mission to kill me. Throw in a Rx for painkillers and a sweet smelling, soft skinned bundle of love – and all the owies disappear.
Thanks for putting up with my ass during this pregnancy. Here are a few pics of my baby doll. I’m off to be pampered.
(more…)
Things are pretty hectic right now, but I wanted to say thanks so much for everything. Let me get things settled down, and then I can post the details. And some pics of my handsome new little man.
Yay! It worked! LOL!
All the info I have so far is that at around 7:00pm Central time, MB5 was born and weighed 6 pounds, 12 ounces. I will update this post when I know more.
I know she would probably thank you all for your moral support and well wishes over the course of this pregnancy. ?
UPDATE – 01/09/2004 5:30 CST
I spoke with Angie today at the hospital and she and MB5 are doing fine. She is tired, but sounds very happy 
MB5’s actual weight is 6 pounds, 10 ounces and he is 19 1/2 inches long. If I recall correctly, she said he looks like MB2. This was a natural, unmedicated birth, but not by choice (what a woman, did she go out with a bang or what? – let’s give her a party!!!). Angie will have an interesting story to tell when she gets back online. I will say, that on the way to her OB appointment is when her labor started…I will leave you hanging in suspense with that tidbit, LOL!
~ Nancy, The Announcement Fairy
Alright. Enough is enough. Obviously, my innards aren’t up to snuff this time around. Must have gotten stale along the way or something. I need some help.
I need you all to concentrate on my cervix. Don’t give me that look – just fucking do it. Are you concentrating? Good. Now…close your eyes, use all the magical mojo you can muster, and command that damn thing to open up.
Done? Thank you so very much.
To show my gratitude, I offer up some nudes I took this afternoon ….
I’m bored and bitchy. Bad combo.
Had three more offers from retired nurses to check me or strip me again or break my water. These are all either my mom’s friends, or my friends’ moms. Either way – good gawd. I kinda have this rule about not letting anyone I chit chat with occasionally have access to explore my regions. Talk about the fucking willies.
If that snow scraper guy dumps the entire street’s worth in front of my van again, creating a really cool game called let’s rock the van up over snow mountain and pray we don’t get stuck, I’m going to stick a fork in his throat.
This pregnancy must end soon. Within my reach at all times is a cup of finely smushed ice and a pine-sol soaked rag for sniffing. If I am more than an arm length away from either of these two things, my mouth will pool with hot saliva and drool will spill from my lips. Very attractive, I can assure you. And no, I’m not kidding.
I have a pretty good idea why the vomit monster is hanging around now. ‘Cause when your mother keeps telling you to take one for the team because that guy stuff is supposed to soften your cervix – it makes you want to fucking puke.
Having pretty decent contractions – too bad I’m only getting one every 40 minutes or so.
At this rate, I should hit 3-5 minutes apart sometime in fucking September.
Contractions started last night about 4pm. Strong enough to create excitement. I have been waiting for those. But although they were lasting long enough, I started to notice the intervals were screwy. Not by much, but enough to let me know that it wasn’t time yet – that they still needed to get their shit together first.
Shitty thing was, that they were a tad too strong to sleep through, so I had to stay awake and ride it out. I was up until 2am with those bitches. They’d start to level out, start to really take my breath away, and then the pattern would hiccup again. Sigh. How cruel.
Trying to look on the bright side. At least I’m having contractions now. Maybe practice makes perfect this time around. First night they got the duration right, last night the strength, and now we just need to work on spacing. Perhaps the full moon tonight will bring it all together.
Finally had another round of contractions last night. Started about 5pm. 15 minutes apart and lasting close to a minute. Were nice and strong, but nothing I couldn’t handle. I knew they were shitty ones, but it was nice to have some sign that my body is getting its shit together.
They got down to about 5 minutes apart by 11, and stayed that way until 1am – when they just stopped. I was just laying in bed hoping they’d kick over to the rip your guts apart variety – but they never did. Today is another day, I suppose.
Current Conditions : -1?F
Geezus, it’s chilly willy outside. Wish I didn’t have to run to the store, but I must. The stocking up I did a couple weeks ago in case I had the baby is damn near gone now. Gotta do it all over again.
K – time to get these kiddos on the bus.
Today is my official due date. I’ve never seen this day before – close with MB1, but no cigar. I wonder what that means weight-wise for this kiddo. I know he was on the small side, but he’s had full cook time. Just please gawd, don’t let him have a head like MB4 and MB1.
Still cramping, still have this nasty cold, still spend my nights in the bathroom in some capacity. I did manage to get a 5 hour block of sleep last night though – things are looking up.
Kids went back to school this morning. It’s so damn cold outside, that I made them wait until the last possible second to head out for the bus – and then the stupid bitch was late. We spent 20 minutes this morning going over different scenarios in case I go into labor while they are at school. In a million years, I would have never imagined we would need to even discuss this.
And poor MD is back at work. He was enjoying his time off. I know he can’t wait to nab an entire week when the kiddo comes. Whenever the hell that might be. I know every time the phone rings at work – he’ll be on pins and needles. Soon hon, soon.
As for us, we’re just hanging around trying to avoid going out today. Single digit temps make me cringe. MG and MB4 are already fighting a sore throat as well as this nasty cold. I think I have everything we need to hibernate for a few days until the weather gets back to normal. Only one reason I’d be willing to venture outside right now, and it seems that ain’t going to happen anytime soon.
no nada nothing zilch zero
still here
still waiting
no baby
he’s never coming out
no contractions
lots of cramping
minor spotting
no news ain’t good news
sitting here waiting
incredulous
due tomorrow
cannot believe this shit
bought a new big bottle of tums cuz why the fuck not
need more pine-sol
need some sleep
up half the night getting sick
the other half cuz i just can’t sleep
tried damn near everything so far
phone rings all day long
IMs out the ass
have YOU had that baby yet
key word you
but not my choice
to still be here
waiting and waiting and waiting
Little after 9am, and MD is still asleep. I’ve been up for three hours. I hate getting up to pee and not being able to go back to bed afterward. I’ll let him sleep for a bit longer, then go jump on the bed with the kids. Then I’ll guilt him into cooking for the day since I was the nice guy and let him sleep in. Works for me.
No baby yet, but the demon that drops you to your knees in front of the porcelain gawd is back. AllNightLong. My guts are so sore this morning. No sickies this morning, so hopefully whatever it was is gone.
I hit 40 weeks tomorrow. Truly amazing. What’s even more amazing is how calm I am at the thought of going past my official due date Monday. I always thought I’d flip my noodle. I don’t see the doc again until Thursday, and he said we’d make plans to go in after him at that time. I’m honestly thinking of telling him no. I can’t believe it either. I might let him try a round of cervidil or whatever the hell it is, but that’s it. No pit monster for me if I can help it. I really want this little guy to come on his own. I want to feel that first real contraction while watching tv and I want MD to read it all over my face and just know. I’d really like my water to break for once – but I’m not holding my breath. MD’s not too keen on that idea. When they break it for me, things happen pretty quickly. He wants to be near medical personnel when that shit happens.
Not sure what we’ll do today. It’s back to winter weather outside. No walks today. No outdoor fun. Maybe we’ll have an all day Mario Marathon. Maybe we’ll visit some friends. Or my parents.
I wonder if I could get away with an all day cleaning fest. Get MD to drag up both cleaners from the basement again and help me have at it. Get the kids to put on their scrubbing socks and help me by dancing all over some wet floors – cleaning those suckers spotless in the process. Spending a few hours in the toyroom arranging the toys for the millionth time so MG has all the pieces to her vanity set. I’ll even let the kids pick the music.
Off to take a vote. Play all day, or help mama scrub herself into labor.
Guess I should start deciding now if it’ll be MarioParty4 or 5.
MD has been home quite a bit these past two weeks. Kinda nice on one hand – kind of a pain in my ass on the other. Not that I have anything resembling a normal routine lately waiting on his spawn to arrive, but it drastically cuts into my puter time. That makes me quite foul.
It’s in the 60s today. Gorgeous spring-like day. We walked for a good while just a bit ago – until my pelvic bone made a loud crunching noise. It’s not good when you hear a crunching noise. We’ll try again later – after the urge to windmill my left leg up over my head when I walk fades away.
Supposed to start snowing tomorrow night and on into Sunday. Impressive accumulation is what the weather guy said. Impressive. I bet my 5th son is waiting for this impressive moment to make his grand entrance. Think maybe my older kiddos should start learning how to boil water, be ready to round up clean towels, and master the proper technique of fanning their dad when his ass passes out on the floor.
My sister was out of town this week to visit her in-laws. She’s thankfully pleased that I haven’t given birth yet.
Nope. Nada. Nothing.
Well, still feel like a weedwacker is on the loose in my gut. Not a pleasant feeling. Took some enormous walks today. Risked the heartburn monster to devour some spicy food. Played an entire game of Mario Party standing and squatting – over and over.
This head cold has morphed into a nasty little prick. I am fucking miserable. I don’t know if I’ve ever been this miserable. And now that I’ve said that – tomorrow will be sure to prove me wrong.
