Obstacles

You know, I come from the great land of South Dakota, and pretty much the only (PG) word that fits the last week is: Oofda. I may have started out thinking just Tuesdays were a pain, but wow, I underestimated the longevity and extremity of Tuesday. (I'm fairly certain that is an improper use of "extremity" but whatever; it fits the week, so I'm going with it.)

So after HD and RL had awful 24 hour stomach bugs last week, we thought by the weekend that we were finally in the clear and on the road to recovery, just in time to enjoy some spring weather (that's now turned back to winter, which is really so flipping fitting...). However, I should have known, based on our experience last year, that health and spring are not synonymous for our family. In fact, we seem to do worse at this time of year than any other.

After getting both kids healthy, we had a nice Saturday together with everyone feeling fine. Flash forward to 4 a.m. on Sunday and one. SICK. Mama. Ugh. I'll spare you the details, but it was awful. 6.5 months pregnant and sick with the stomach flu is terrible. For the second time in this pregnancy I thought I was going to have to call my doctor and be put on an IV! But then I started keeping down Gatoraid and staying awake for more than 20 minutes at a time and eventually, by yesterday afternoon, I was sort of functioning again. And, by luck, I had a regular OB appt. scheduled for yesterday, so I was able to see my doctor and find out that Baby was doing just fine and somehow I had managed to avoid dehydration. Yay, me?!

During all of this, Ben was a trooper. He stayed home to take care of the kids yesterday which was such a blessing because wow, I could not have done it on my own. This whole time, we've been saying that we hoped we wouldn't get sick, but then when I did, I told him he could not follow suit until Tuesday because I absolutely needed him until then. And, like a good hubby, he listened. But perhaps a little too well, because last night it was his turn to get the icks. Seriously. I know no one enjoys being sick, but this is a whole week of it now here and this whole drug out ickness is so frustrating.

So anyway, Ben is now the one sleeping and Gatoraiding the day away while I take care of the kids. And while I may still be tired and a little cranky after the last couple days, I'm managing today OK.

Enter the blessing of preschool. Last month Harrison came home one day all jazzed about an obstacle course that they'd done that day. While he still won't answer questions about his days at school, when he volunteers information, we actually learn quite a bit about what he's been doing or learning. And the obstacle course was obviously a highlight because he was so excited to tell me about how he got to go first and it was so much fun and so on. And I was impressed because he was sharing and using the word "obstacle" and it was all just good.

And thankfully that good came back to us today. Seeing as how this Tuesday brought a return to winter weather conditions and a continuation of our sick house status, I decided we needed some fun and run around time after lunch. Enter our very own obstacle course:

To the reasonable untrained eye, this is a messy playroom. Very messy. But that's why I love our house. We have a room that is dedicated strictly to play and it really doesn't matter how messy it gets. Occasionally we sort it out and pick it up, but for the most part, it looks a lot like this. But this mess actually has a purpose because this is our new obstacle course. Let me explain. My seat is Raegan's Anywhere Chair (man, I love those things, even if they are pricey!) where I holler out each stage of the course. The white pillow is the start/finish spot. The patchwork pillow is a jumping pad used twice, once early and once late, in the course. The wagon's box is for crawling in and crawling out before grabbing an animal friend (they are now all piled up by my/RL's chair) and scooting through the tunnel. After the tunnel is a bag full of baseballs for throwing into the cream-colored basket and then an oversized blue tennis ball for holding while running two laps around the Exercauser. The end, after landing back on the white pillow involves delivering the animal friend to me.

Whew! Are you tired yet? Me too, but Harrison totally loved this totally random arrangement and must have run the course at least 8 or 9 times in a row. Raegan even got in the fun at times, although she's still too little to follow precise directions in order. She mostly liked to chuck the baseballs at the basket and walk around clinging to a stuffed sheep. Hey - whatever works, right?

HD can't wait to show Daddy his new tricks when he gets up from his nap (his meaning Ben's, of course - HD and I are hanging out with PBS while B & RL sleep). And seeing as we've faced our share of obstacles in the last week, I'm glad we found something today that made obstacles fun (and kudos to the Y for the inspiration!).

Hop Along or Lil' Bunny?

Dear BWNo.3,

So I've been wanting to write to/about you for some time now as you've been on my mind quite a bit lately. I know it might seem like I'm pretty distracted chasing your big brother and big sister around day in and day out, but of course you are in my head and heart already, just as much as you are growing every day in my belly. That, and you're pretty hard to ignore!

I may not know much as a parent, but this I know is true - every child is unique. And you, Baby, have already proved to be an individual. Your first trimester alone was one for the books (or in this case, the blog), and that right there tells me that you will forever be paving your own way in this world. Considering that we already have two pretty strong characters in HD and RL, I can't wait to see what sort of beauty, laughter, and eyebrow raises you and your personality will add to our family.

Another reason you're never far from my thoughts is that I feel you all the time. Earlier detection of movement has to be one of my favorite perks of each pregnancy. I'm pretty sure I started feeling flutters from you by 12 or 13 weeks and full on motion by 16 or 17. With Harrison, I had no idea if a kick was really a kick until 24 weeks! But you, my soon-to-be-littlest-one, you've been kicking like crazy for a couple months now. So here we are, right at the end of the second trimester, and already I know your wiggles and jiggles quite well.

And dare I say it? I think you've been the most active one yet! When people saw your brother as a baby, they thought we couldn't have one more active. Then your sister came along and proved them all wrong. And you, you might just have a little bit of the Moore/Welsch/Jansen competitiveness in you because based on the way you literally make my belly bounce, you're set to outdo them both. But that's OK, honey. Mama's learned to love coffee in the last two years; she'll do what she has to in order to keep up with her active little brood.

In our family we have thing for presidential names (don't worry - we won't Garfield or Nixon you) and animal nicknames. The nicknames have come organically for all of you. Harrison became our Little Monkey when he wore the cutest little monkey clothes, shoes, and PJs as a baby, and he later sealed the deal when he picked a monkey as one of his bedtime buddies. It also didn't hurt that he was an active little bugger, just like a little monkey climbing and swinging through the trees! Raegan became our Little Owl because of her big, big eyes and her night owl tendencies for the first (too many) months of her life. Like it or not, she's stuck with it because we've collected too many cute owl clothes and room decor pieces to turn back now. And you, Baby? Well, I think you've kicked your way into an animal nickname before we've even seen your face or picked your POTUS.

Clearly you're going to be our Little Frog or Little Bunny. I like both not only for their potential cuteness factor in clothes and plush toys, but also that they fit your legs-a-hopin' belly mode. You are our little jumper, so it only makes sense that we'd pick a bouncy little animal to be yours. And while I'm not huge on traditional gender roles (hello, we still don't own more than five pink toys), I want to reserve the frog OR the rabbit, depending on if you are a boy or girl, respectively. I think Carter's and I will continue to be best buds if I go this route and you might appreciate it more in your teenage years, too. As if any of you are going to want to hear about your baby animal nicknames when you're teenagers! See how funny your Mama is?! No wonder you kick all the time - I'm just so entertaining!

But boy or girl, frog or rabbit, we simply can't wait, Little One. Well, I mean, of course we can wait and we will because we don't want you coming out too early (or too late!). But we are all so excited to meet you. Your daddy and I can't wait to hold you and snuggle you and love on you. Your big brother can't wait to see if you really are a boy like he thinks you should be (based on the pattern of our family thus far, of course). And your big sister? Well, OK. She has no idea what is going on, but she will never really remember any different than having you as part of her life, so of course you are already a part of each other.

So, my Little Hopper...keep on a kickin'. Each time you do gives me a reason to pause, think of you, and be both grateful and elated for your impending arrival.

Love,
Mama

Tuesday Continues

When Harrison got sick in the middle of the night on Monday/Tuesday, my first thought after feeling really, really bad for him was, "OH. NO! I hope I don't get this!" I did the whole 6 months pregnant and sick with a stomach bug when I was pregnant with him four years ago and once was more than enough on that front.

Then, as the night/day/night of yuck continued, my thoughts changed to, "OH. NO! I hope Raegan doesn't get this!" Because I realized, pretty quickly, how hard it is to get a super sick three-year-old to understand what it means to be sick and how hard it is to contain that mess. And that realization led me to understand that dealing with a "spitting" 17-month-old would be so much worse.

Turns out, I was right. Our Tuesday was doozy and unfortunately it has resurfaced today.

Yesterday we woke to surprising calm and a little man who was actually feeling much, much better despite ending his Tuesday with a 103 degree fever and more spits. Granted, we were all really tired from the previous 24 hours, but we were also very grateful that it had only last 24 and not 72 like the nurse over the phone had warned me it might.

Harrison went all day and night with no fevers or anything else super troubling, so we decided to let him try preschool today. We even told him he could do the scheduled swimming lesson this morning, if he felt like it. And you know what? He was fine. Just fine! He went to school, he swam, and he's doing great. Well, he wouldn't really eat his lunch for me, but that is just par for the course these days.

The one who is not fine, not great is Raegan. Twice now, since midnight, she's been sleeping in her crib and made a funny, gurgle-y cough. Twice now that has resulted in a great big mess all over her, her sleep sack, and her bed. And so, again, we are having a Tuesday - more spit, more laundry, more OH. NO!

But remember how I mentioned HD and preK? Well, since I didn't know what else to do/had no other choice, I had to bring RL along for pick up and drop off. Just like I do every other preK day, even when she's got a drippy nose or it is cold or windy or whatever. She has to come along for the ride and into the school with me because I can't stand to leave her alone in the van.

Drop off was fine. Got him delivered safe and sound and then got her back home so she could take a nice long nap (that unfortunately ended in the second of the above mentioned messes). Pick up, however, was not so good.

I gave Raegan a sippy of water before we left the house because she's had nothing but 4 oz. of formula today and clearly that didn't stick with her. She sucked it down in what my gut told me was probably too quick a manner, but again, I had no choice but to bring her in with me to wait for Harrison (I just typed that the first time as "bring me in with her" which is actually a pretty funny error in light of what happened).

We were standing there chatting with another preK mom when I noticed Raegan was making these weird little urppy sounds. I should have run for the door right then and there. But OH. NO! I didn't. And thirty seconds later, Little Girl spit all over me and herself. And a little on the floor of the Y. As the class of big kids was just lining up in front of us in the hallway. And other parents were arriving to pick up their own preKs. *Sigh* *And Ew. Just Ew*

Thankfully the teachers who were around shepherded us and our mess inside so we could wash off with a couple towels, collect HD a minute early, and then flee as I apologized quickly to the other mamas and papas for leaving our germs in the hallway. I stripped her as best I could before putting her in her carseat and did my very best not to be bothered by why my own shirt and pant legs were damp as we hurried home to change clothes and put in what has got to be my 25th load of laundry this week.

After holding her for much of the last hour and a half, while attempting failing to get HD to eat his lunch, Raegan's now back in her crib, down for her second nap of the day. I haven't heard any cough/gurgles yet, but based on how the rest of this day has gone, I wouldn't be surprised if another mess awaits whenever I go back up to collect her.

Seriously. I'm grateful that they weren't both down with this at the same time, but this extended dealing with illness is driving me batty. And it still has me pretty darn paranoid about getting sick, myself. So here's to not avoiding Tuesdays so much (resistance is futile, no?) as hoping that this one eventually, finally ends!

The New Monday

Based on my experiences with the last three of them, Tuesdays can suck it. Sorry. I've tried all day to come up with a more adult and mature way to tell off Tuesday, but "suck it" is really as far as I can get. Now, in the poor day's defense, last Tuesday was my birthday and the day part of it was truly lovely; I turned 31 surrounded by sunshine and roses (well, not roses, but cupcakes and that's better anyway, I think). Really - a great day. But then came Tuesday night when I was supposed to be all sleeping the night away and resting my weary head and that, my friends, is where Tuesday can take a hike.

Last week, like the Tuesday night the previous week, I could not fall asleep. As in, children snoozing peacefully and quietly in their rooms, hubby catching ZZZs next to me, and me, WIDE flipping awake. For no apparent reason. Thank you, Pregnancy Insomnia!

It was after 2 a.m. the first time and after 3 a.m. the second before I could sleep. And you all know how late my children like to sleep, so the last few Wednesdays have been interesting as I've been trying to function fake my way through them on 3ish hours of sleep. So what I really should have said in my opener was that Tuesday nights can suck it because, quite frankly, they have sucked the wind out of me for two weeks in a row.

I was determined that this Tuesday would be different. I would go to bed super early to guarantee that I'd be asleep at a decent hour and would wake up on Wednesday feeling refreshed and bouncy. Stupid Tuesday. It saw me and my good intentions coming.

Instead of catching me on the downhill side of Tuesday night (8-12), this week caught me at the onset (12-8). Just before 1 a.m. this morning, Harrison came in our room asking for Daddy and coughing. And just one cough was enough to tell me he was going to puke (one proud moment for parental intuition, but ewwww all the same), so I shoved rushed Ben out of our bed to go help Little Man in the bathroom. Fortunately, all he did there was cough some more. Unfortunately, when Ben took him back to bed, he realized that the "spitting," as we call it in our house, had already occurred. Yuck. And more yuck because it continued the rest of the night with Ben and I getting very, very little sleep. (Raegan, bless her heart, slept through it all even though doors were opened and lights were turned on and off about 50x in the middle of the night)

I'll spare you all the gross and dirty details. If you already have kids, you probably know this disgusting song and dance. Somehow, we're still pretty new to it. This is the first time Harrison has had sustained spitting that has made for many, many messes, loads of laundry and pajama changes in a 12 hour time span. And it's awful. I mean, the cleaning itself is awful, but what really bites is seeing my active little run around guy stuck at home from preschool and so out of it that he hasn't even asked about why he didn't get to go. He's been limp on a chair or couch ever since he came downstairs after Raegan woke up this morning and even took three naps throughout the day. THREE naps! I couldn't hardly get him to do that when he was a baby! And although he keeps trying to drink fluids for us, we're still not convinced he'll be able to keep them down. And his sad, I don't feel good face is really breaking my heart. I just want to make it all better rightthisveryminute. Thankfully, there have been no major fevers, though, so for now we're just riding it out, hoping he starts to keep something in his system soon and can maybe even eat something. But who knows. This is a Tuesday we're talking about!

Evening Update: Not good. The non-existent fever came on fast and furious and just like that, it was all the way up to 103.6 degrees! I repeat, Not. Good. And then there was the whole spitting all over me and the couch and himself when I tried to give him medicine for said fever. Oy. Haven't been brave enough to try more medicine yet, but he has nibbled on a little banana bread (please, if this is terrible to feed a sick child, don't tell me - it was the only thing all day he's agreed to try eating) and sipped some more Gatoraid, so fingers crossed that all sticks with him. Fever has gone down a teensy bit, so fingers also crossed that that trend continues. After HD's four naps today, I'm not sure what the night will be like, but clearly we all need some sleep.

So. Tuesday. You had darn well better redeem yourself quickly and help us all get some rest and recovery going in our house! We need it!

Story Arc

As much as this is a space for me to sort out my thoughts and worries as a parent, it is also a space for me to love and brag on my kids from time to time. Fair warning - I'm about to do the latter!

Last week brought us our second conference at Harrison's preschool and while we've got some work to do on fine motor skills (more on that to come, later), we are so proud of all that he knows and can do at the ripe old age of 3 1/2. We're also very happy with our choice of preschools and know that HD is flourishing because he gets to do it all there; from reading and singing to climbing and swimming, the Y has been such a good mix for our active and imaginative little guy.

Lately Harrison's imagination has been going full steam and he's been all about stories. But then again, he's always been all about books, even when he was still just a baby. I remember reading book after book after book when he was teeny tiny to help him settle down for sleep. And then later, as part of his pre-nap or night routine - always at least three books and not just simple board books, but long Dr. Seuss and other picture books. Much like Raegan does now, HD used to toddle over to me, chuck the book he'd be carrying in my general direction and then plop in my lap, ready to read anywhere and anytime. For an English major mama, this behavior and love of his has always been a source of pride for me. And now, it makes me so happy whenever I see Harrison paging through a story or asking to someone to read with him, which happens quite often.

So perhaps it is no surprise that Harrison seems to be turning into a bit of a storyteller himself. Well, mostly he is a story director because he is constantly telling me what story to tell him (95% of the time they involve Angry Birds) and he is also constantly telling me, "No, not that way, Mama. Tell me the right way. The way that starts with ___________. And then goes _________." As you can imagine, this is a major test of my patience, not to imagine memory and imagination, but I do like that he's so involved in the thought process that goes into storytelling.

In early February, my parents visited and we pulled out an Angry Birds coloring/activity book that we'd gotten awhile back for HD. While I took advantage of having the grandparents around a nap, Harrison worked on the book with Grandpa and Grandma. He's never been big on coloring, so it wasn't too shocking that he didn't spend too much time on those pages, but what did impress me when I saw it, was the My Own Angry Birds page where he wrote a story. Well, Grandma technically wrote it, but all she did was transcribe HD's story which went as follows:

Once upon a time, there were Angry Birds. Then there were Piggies. 

And the Angry Birds had golden eggs. Then they went to bed. 

Then the Piggies took their golden eggs in a net. Then the angry birds were ANGRY. 

Then they got on their slingshot. Then the Angry Birds hit the Piggies. 

Then the Angry Birds go their eggs back! The End. 

Now that little story might contain an awful lot of "then"s, but it also has a true beginning, conflict, resolution, and conclusion - a real story arc! And Harrison is only 3 1/2!! 

So once again, I find myself thinking, hooray for books; they are an excellent form of education wrapped up and presented as wonderful entertainment. And if I accomplish nothing else as a parent, I've helped my son develop a love of words, characters, and stories, which I know he'll be able to carry with him always. I can't wait to see where his love of books takes us (and can only imagine how many more times I'll have to do my best to tell the right Angry Birds story before he outgrows that little stage!)! 

Snuggle Bug

Well, she may be causing us sleepless mornings and might just have a tiny flair for the dramatic (can you say "already doing the whole face on the floor, feet kicking fit thing?" Yikes!), BUT there is no denying that Raegan is also a total Love.

Yesterday was a totally gorgeous 70 degree day in March. The kids and I went on a long Dragon Hunt walk (you'll have to ask HD for more on that!) and then we played outside until Ben got home from school. Raegan was playing on the play constructure with the boys until she noticed that I had laid down on the blanket where we'd previously been having snack. (Let's face it - at almost six months pregnant, the Dragon Hunt wore me out and the sunshine felt so cozy. How could I not take advantage and rest my eyes in it for a bit?) So before long I heard, "Mama! Mama! Awwwwww. Mama! Mama!" getting closer and closer. And that, my friends, would be the epitome of Raegan these days.

She saw me all sprawled out on the ground and decided she needed to join me. After toddling right over, she flopped down next to/on top of me and snuggled her head into my shoulder, all while "Awwwwww"ing all over the place.

See, lately, Little Miss has taken to making this ridiculously sweet and overdone coo when she snuggles and cuddles. It is infectious and she's learning to use it to her advantage. This means that before naps, when I'm singing to her, she uses it to drag out the process because she totally knows I can't pass up saying, "Awwwwww" back to her, even when I'm mid-verse of "You Are My Sunshine" or "Sleep, Baby, Sleep." But even with stalling, we all can't help but love it.

Harrison's a fan of overly big hugs, so he'll get in on the action, too, sometimes and give great big squeezes while his sister "Awwwww"s. Ben too gets squeezes and coos when he's making his lunch in the mornings (RL grabs his legs and snuggles her head into his shins) or when he's playing on the floor with the kids. And of course there is the constant plopping she does when she tosses a book in my face and then flings her whole body into in my lap so I can read to her (her brother did the exact same thing at this age!), so we get lots of cuddles in during those times, too.

Perhaps the best part is knowing that if I smile at her, she will smile right back at me and then she'll usually follow it up with a head tilt and coo. No wonder I don't mind saying, "Awwwwww" 100 times a day.

The Sleep(less) Games

Forget arenas and hunger and battles for survival. Just throw a grown woman in a house while she is pregnant with one baby, trying to raise two others, and don't let her sleep for say, well - forever. And then see what kind of fun ensues. Now that could be a book/movie that falls in all categories - (dark) humor, drama, and horror.

Seriously. We just can't seem to catch a break on this sleep business. We finally got HD to stop coming in our room at all hours of the night, only to have Little Miss start a horrible new early rising trend. For the last week, Raegan has been waking up at 5:30. Sometimes 5:45, but you can't really tell me that's any better. Sometimes she makes just enough noise to wake me/us up and is then quiet until we do Good Mornings at the still early but much preferable hour of 6:30. That is, if Harrison doesn't come wandering across the hall into our room before that asking to either go to the bathroom or if it is in fact time for Good Mornings yet, waking her/us up again. Other times she screams/cries until we give in and get her (and him) up, which we don't do before 6:00, in hopes of not making this an actual habit or something.

It doesn't help that mid-week RL developed a runny nose which manifested into a cough during her sleep that just so happened to start at 4:30 on Sunday morning and not stop until 6:05 (and you can guess who came in at 6:30 to ask about GMs!!)! On a side note, if you go to Walmart at 7:30 on a Sunday morning, you can have a lovely and fast shopping experience, even with a squeaky wheeled cart. Just saying...

And I'm just saying because I am trying desperately to cling to something positive right now. But my body and my brain are sooooo tired that positive really isn't where my thoughts and moods go. I am surviving on coffee alone, some days, and while I'd prefer to be off caffeine entirely during my pregnancy, I don't know what I'd do without my one-two cups a day. I tell myself, at least it's not one-two pots. Right?! Besides the fact that it keeps me awake, it keeps me happy(ish) and that alone is reason to keep it at all. Because something has to help me stay sane right now.

Even on the nights when the kids cut me some slack and stay quietly in their beds, I seem to struggle. Of course, even if I ration all liquid intake after 5 p.m., I still have to get up to pee during the night. This baby is SO insanely low, he/she is going to be giving my bladder fits from now until July. Sometimes I can get up and just go right back to sleep. Other times, usually when the clock shows 4:something, I struggle, mainly because I know I only have thismuch time before someone starts waking up the whole house. Last night was particularly awful though because I thought my 2:30 bathroom break was going to be a right back to sleep moment. Instead it turned out to be the start of my day. I officially got 30 more minutes of sleep, shortly after 5:15 before Raegan started in for the day. Unbelievable! And, because I have to teach tonight, by the time I get home, I will have been up for 18 hours (that 30 minute bizarre dream filled "nap" at 5:20 doesn't count as sleep) and on duty in some form or another for 14 of them. Have I said Unbelievable yet? Trust me - my words could be so much more colorful, with very little effort. I'll take the fact that I'm able to censor at all as a good sign that my mind isn't totally gone, but how much longer before it is? I mean, really. It's not like our sleep is going to improve come summer, so how do I get through this?

I've mentioned this before, but it warrants repeating because I keep seeing the same advice, or some form of it, everywhere - books, blogs, etc. To start your day off right, give yourself just a few minutes in the morning to collect your thoughts and start out the day with the right/positive outlook. Lovely, right? And I'm not even mocking it - I really do think that is a lovely sentiment and probably does start the day off well for folks who can do it. But when you have absolutely no say in what time your day starts, not to mention the fact that it often starts out while you are huddled under your covers, wishing with every being of your body that the crying baby would just go back to sleep, I don't know how to accomplish this simple practice. I mean, I'm trying, trying, trying to Wake Up and Choose Awesome, but my awesome feels like a little less with each passing and exhausting night.

So, that's all, really. Sorry to be so whiny. Perhaps, like me, you've seen that little poster that says: "Without sleep, we are all toddlers." Consider me there, which at least explains the tone, even if it doesn't excuse it.