I'm Often Asked...

How are you feeeeeellllinggg?
Mostly like myself- tired.  I am playing more hopscotch and tic tac toe in the driveway with Parker than I was before.  These both require me to lumber around the driveway, and sometimes hop, for about an hour at a time. "Draw it bigger, Mommy!" Pman sweetly demands.
"Draw it over here, Mommy."  "No wait, over here."
"Let's play basketballsoccerbaseballgolf.  Let's climb that hill."
I am still going to the gym regularly, but hanging out with Pfuzz is more of a workout than any treadmill trudge.We also pick flowers from our garden, the garden that I have nothing- I mean NUTH-ING- to do with.  When Josh gets home from work, Parker grabs his bug net and they both head out the door to water the sprouts and look for "jolly happy souls" (re: worms).  I honestly don't even know what they are growing out there- vegetables and some herbs, maybe?  Right now it looks like grass to me.Early Mother's Day flowers from my favorite guys and their garden.

How is Parker? Is he ready to be a big brother?
He's awesome, of course. 
A few months ago at the pediatrician's office she commented that the wax in his ear was really deep.  She asked if we used Q-Tips to clean his ears. 
"No." I replied.  "That actually never even occured to me."
However, as the picture shows, Q-Tips have occured to Parker.  After he pulled these out of his ears and saw the bit of wax he said, "Eww, gross." Then placed them on the kitchen counter.
As for the big brother question, I have no clue.  He is staying pretty tight lipped about the whole thing.  He is interested in babies and knows there is a baby sister named Peyton in his future, past that, it's hard to tell.

How far along are you now?
I am officially 30 weeks pregnant today. 
Which means in 9 weeks from today, I will be get to kiss my sweet baby girl's face and introduce her to her amazing brother and proud papa.  At my appointment today, these will now occur every 2 weeks, my doctor called me small!  Initially I thought, OOOH HOW I LOVE THIS LADY!!  But then she said, "I want you to get another sonogram to track the baby's growth."
Wha-wa.
She is not too worried, so I'm not letting myself worry either.  Peyton is movin and groovin and her heart rate is on target.  My doc just wants to be on top of ev-er-y-thing.

Also, ummm this is small?

Easter? Really?

Easter was unseasonably warm this year.  In fact, the three of us came away from the weekend with sunkissed faces from spending our weekend alfresco.

Saturday

On Saturday we had a neighborhood Easter Egg hunt, followed by a Bar-B-Que.  There were two moon bounces, games and sidewalk chalk.  Parker loves games be it board games, race games, or puzzles.  He is clearly geared up and ready to hop to the finish.  He came in first/second.  He is a hopping prodigy, clearly.

Sunday

There was a basket full of candy waiting for Parker Easter morning. We kept the hiding of the basket tradition alive.  This is actually Parker's first Easter basket ever.  We dined on grilled kabobs that night for dinner, just like they did in the biblical days- er something.

This is Easter Sunday AT THE BEACH! 

Old man and the P

Easter of Yore

I was 10 years old in 1990. The world was trying to escape all things neon and scrunchy socks with tight rolled jeans.  The days of Bananarama and Hair Metal were numbered and fast emerging were the New Kids On the Block and a white rapper, with incredible hair, who called himself Vanilla Ice.

What a classic The Ice was.  I mean when you are born on Halloween and your name is Robbie Van Winkle, I think that sets some kind of cosmic stage that inevitably leads to this:

During his peak he held a concert at a large arena about 30 miles from my childhood home, on Easter Sunday.

That spring morning, my brother (14), older sister (12) and I woke up with stained fingers from dying eggs the night before and sought out for our "hidden" Easter baskets.  Our younger sister was only about 4 and still very much in the Easter Bunny spirit of the season, so we all played along. 

My parents would hide our baskets, well they hide them for a couple years, which eventually gave way to them just placing the baskets on the kitchen table.  Over years it was not so much basketS, as it was one large shared basket filled with candy.  It could be found on the kitchen counter, then the pantry, then the trashcan.

However, in 1990, they were still in the hiding mode.  Once we located our baskets and  dug through our chocolate eggs and marshmallow peeps, we found our true treasure.  Tickets.  Vanilla Ice concert tickets.  My parents, on EASTER SUNDAY, were going to take the three of us (sitter for the little one) to THE Vanilla Ice concert.

How cool were they?!

We went. Van Winkle wore white overalls, one strap undone- of course, with some kind of vibrant multi colored spray paint design on the front bib area.  I think it goes without saying that he was not wearing a shirt underneath the overalls. 

It was my first concert and it was thrilling.  I remember it fondly every Easter Sunday.

So Happy Easter to all and to all, in the words of the Vanilla one, "Word to your mother[s]."

Be Pink Eye Productive

About two weeks ago poor P woke up from his nap with two swollen, watery, bloodshot eyes.  He looked like he had been involved in some kind of playground brawl. 
When I asked him how he felt he said, "I feel good.  I'm happy." I'm not totally sure he could even see me and instead was just turning his little puffy face in the direction of my voice.
That was on a Sunday, so we just hung out, did a lot of hand washing and saying, "Stop touching your eyes."  Monday morning I called his doc, took him in and sure enough he was diagnosed with double pink eye, as well as, double ear infection.
P the Brave never gave any kind of indication his ears hurt in any way at all- ever.  He has only had 4 or 5 ear infections his whole life and each time we found out by chance.  Never because he exhibited  any of the tell tale ear infection signs.
Since pink eye is so contagious, 7 kids from school were infected at the same time, P and I were stuck in the house for a few days.  I took this opportunity to kick potty training into high gear.  We bought a 3 pack of Cars underpants and hunkered down for a few days of wet pants, eye drops and amoxicillan.
To put it simply, he did amazing!* 
For the last two weeks, he averages 1 accident a day and each one has occurred when he was on his way to the potty, but couldn't get there fast enough- those darn snaps AND zippers!  Recently, he has had full days of staying dry, thank you elastic waisted pants.We now own 9 pairs of 2T-3T underpants and he mostly loves using the potty.  I only have to bribe him with Reeses Pieces or Skittles occasionally. 
I have taken him to a park, twice, sans diaper.  We took a trip about 30 minutes from home and only brought 1 back up pair of underpants and pants- no diapers, no wipes.  We were gone for 5 hours.He has been to play dates and birthday parties in his big boy drawers. We are making som real headway here.For you mommies out there who are working on this potty training hell, I will say it is not easy squeezy and Parker was just ready. 

He had 1 poo accident in his underwear, which grossed us both out beyond belief. 
When he uses the bathroom, he demands that his pants, underpants and shoes are all removed prior to doing his business, which translates to a lot of squatting on my part.  This is not a fun activity for a lady who is 28 weeks pregnant, especially when a public restroom stall and floor are involved.
He also requires, "Privacy please."  He actually says that.  Or he will say, "I need privacy."  If I do not shut the door completely, he will get up off the toilet shut the door and climb, I'm guessing here, back on the pot.
In a 45 minute trip to the library for story time, he peed on his pants because I tried to convince him they did not need to be removed, I was wrong.  Then 20 minutes later he had his daily accident.  Since the first pair of pants were the least wet, he wore them to Panera and happily ate Mac and Cheese with his friends.  I think that speaks volumes about the deliciousness that is Panera's Mac and Cheese.
He does still wear a Pull-up when he sleeps, although it is usually dry after his nap.
His school will not let him wear just underwear to school until he has 2 weeks of a dry Pull-up. 
I'm still declaring this a work in progress, but the progress is going nicely.  I'm not getting my hopes up too high though.  When Peyton comes, I know this recent success may digress a bit.  I am okay with that, at least now we all know he is totally capable of mastering this potty thing.
*He got a potty for his birthday, June 2010.  We have been "practicing" this potty thing with varying intensity levels since then.

HapPee!

583 lbs

I had the last OBGYN appointment for my second trimester.  My next one is in 3 weeks (first week of the third trimester) and from then on it's every week or two until Peyton makes her appearance!

I also had to do the dreaded glucose test today.

If you are among the lucky devils who has no idea what a glucose test is, I will enlighten you. 

In a nutshell the test entails drinking about 10 ounces of this gawd awful sickly sweet orange stuff, think if Tang and orange Hi-C and 2 cups of sugar were mixed together.  The pregnant mama has to drink this stuff in 5 minutes, on basically, an empty stomach.  Then she gets her blood drawn within an hour of finishing to condensed concoction. 

The purpose of the test is to figure out if mama has pregnancy induced diabetes.

It's even less fun than it sounds.

My doc asked how I was feeling and I told her I feel like I weigh 583 pounds.  Precisely 5 hundred and 83 full pounds. 

Thankfully, that is not my true weight and when she did weigh me she said, "Oh, Nikki you are only..." [sorry I'll post a lot of things, my 27 week pregnancy weight is not one of those things] The point is she said ONLY when referencing my weight.

She assured me I was exactly where I should be weight and measurementwise.  She told me I'm totally clear to keep working out and that everything is movin and groovin right on schedule.

As I got in my car and the gas light came on and the needle indicator thing was below the E.  Then I realized I was about 20 miles from home, which is exactly where my wallet and all forms of money were located.

Le sigh

27 weeks pregnant- 12 weeks until C-Day.  I will also not confess how many of these pictures I had to take before I found one some what suitable for a blog posting.

And just because he is so stinkin cute!! Saturday was "Fort Day" at our house.

Yakkity- Yak

When my sister Lynsey, who Pman calls Aunt ZZ, was younger she had a friend named Michelle.

She was a nice, mostly quiet, little girl.  Well, maybe she still is those things, I don't know Lyns and Michelle lost touch- perhaps you will be able to figure out why in a minute.

In the mall where we grew up there was a carousel in the food court.  Typically, little kids would gulp down a soda and gorge on pizza, then hop on the mechanical horses.  Their parents could be found sitting at the tables around the ride, enjoying a peaceful food court mall dinner.
Ahh, memories.

As my parents were following that very routine, watching Michelle and Lyns whip around on their respective horses, they noticed Michelle looked a little- off.  When the ride was over, she wobbled over to their table and my dad handed her his very large, swimming pool sized cup.  She gently pulled the lid off, puked inside the cup, replaced the lid and that was that. 

No mess.  No drama.  Easy breezy puking.

About a year later, my sister and Michelle found themselves at an amusement park on the swing ride.  My parents stood with the other adults around the perimeter of the swings and waved as Michelle and Lyns once again went tearing through the atmosphere.  Then they saw it, the familiar look of green on sweet little Michelle's face.

My parents quietly inched backward and just watched as the tiny girl's chunks were blown all over the unsuspecting spectators.  My parents even heard people question each other, "Is it raining?"  "Do you feel drops?"  "Is it suppose to rain tonight?"

As she went whizzing by, Michelle innocently lost her lunch, dinner and cotton candy all over these poor people.

Because of these two examples, I have developed the Michelle Puke Spectrum (MPS).  On one end, the up-chuck is neatly disposed of in a cup with a lid.  On the other end, you blow it all over hundreds of people as they, unknowingly, watch.

Which brings us to Pman.  On Saturday we went to see friends of ours and their beautiful new baby girl.  Parker hammed it up all night- wearing his Batman cap the whole time, playing quietly with his trains, mimicking, mostly appropriate, adult phrases. 

On the way home he was happily narrating everything we passed.  When we were about a third of the way home, Josh and I heard the unmistakable rumble following by a splat noise and then crying. 

Parker puked. 

Parker puked a lot. 

We pulled over.  I undressed him and wrapped him in my coat.  We climbed into the very back seat of the MV and he curled up and went to sleep.  As P and I were huddled together, Josh went barreling down 95 like there was some real kind of medical emergency that needed immediate attention. I just closed my eyes and rocked Parker as I listening to his breathing, making sure it was steady.

When we got home I cleaned P up a bit and put him to bed and then attempted to attack the carseat and clothes.  Thankfully, the mess was contained to the just those items. 

So on the MPS I think Parker is somewhere in the middle, but close to the neat puker- while he got it all over himself, my car is pukefree.  Cleaning the careast was hell, but at least I don't have to get my car detailed. Although, now the carseat is in many pieces on the living room floor.

No Comparison

There were a lot of people in my house growing up. 
Some of us were athletes. 
Some of us were more artsy.
Some of us struggled with grades and for others A's seemed to come easy. 
One thing (of many) my parents did exceptionally well, was not comparing us to each other.  We were encouraged to support each other when we excelled-be it a college lacrosse scholarship or making all county chorus, and when we didn't- bombed the SAT's or crashed our first car. 
We viewed ourselves as a team and although we did fight and we did have moments of jealousy, we were never compared to each other in a negative light.
Parker is a good kid.  He has his moments, hell, he has his string of several days in a row of acting like whiny, inconsolable bugger, but for the most part he is good.When we get out of the car, he stays with me and doesn't run into the street.  He helps put his toys away.  He asks if he can do something or have something before he just takes it.  He will sit at a table in a restaurant while we eat crabs, for hours, and just hang out.
I genuinely appreciate each of these aspects of his character.
However, because he is good (usually), (several) people have made the comment that Peyton will be a terror.  Kind of like the well-behaved lightening won't strike twice.
I know they intend for it to be a joke, or at least I hope that is the case, but it still makes me angry and upset to my very core.
She is not even here yet and people are putting this 'bad girl' label on her. 
I like to think that at least part of the reason Pman is a good kid has something to do with how Josh and I have raised him.  Not just how we discipline him, although that is part of it, but also because he sees how Josh and I treat each other and the people around us.  I hope that he sees positive behavior reaps positive results.
A bit of nurture over nature, if you will.
I expect Peyton will be better behaved in some areas than Parker and vice versa.  Peyton will have her own set of strengths and set of- areas that need improvement.  I hope Parker will help me show her what is acceptable and what is not in our family.
Peyton will have her angelic moments and her bratty ones, I'm sure of it.  We all do.  I just hope the people who are already pinning her to the "bad" category don't miss out on a very special lady who will be here in no time flat.