Hubby Guest Blog - The Curve Ball Cometh

Tanika and I should have known that our carefully scripted birth plan would not stand a chance against baby No. 3.

There's a reason we nicknamed this child Curveball.

Just a few days ago, the doctors told us to plan for Tanika to be induced on Monday. So, we mapped out a plan that had us arriving at the hospital at 6:30 a.m., with Curveball making her debut sometime thereafter, possibly at dinnertime.

There was nothing in the plan, however, that called for Tanika to start painful cramping (which we later realized were full-on contractions) at 6 a.m. TODAY, a full five days before we were ready to officially welcome our new bundle. Clearly, God was working from a different script.

Since Tanika was scheduled today for a regular appointment, we figured she would get to the doctor’s office and they would send her home with a diagnosis of pre-labor, and tell her to put her feet up and rest until her induction on Monday.

Meanwhile, the “cramping” intensified.

I knew it was time for me to shut the hell up when Tanika shot me a look as I told her to get ready for the mother of all contractions because the squiggly line on the contraction monitoring machine was forming the Mount Everest of peaks.

So, with a closed mouth, I decided the best thing for me to do was to rub my sweetie’s back and be sympathetic. A few minutes later a nice nurse named Jennifer came in to tell us that she was sending Tanika to the Labor and Delivery unit.

We were in labor and delivery less than 30 minutes when a doctor examined Tanika and said “she’s 8 centimeters.”

I wanted to raise my hand and say “but it’s not Monday and we’re not ready just yet for Curveball. I still have to hang the cute wooden letters in her bedroom.” I remembered the earlier look from Tanika and thought better.

We knew our wonderful plan was out the window when the doctor said “I hope that’s not what I think it is.”

Uh, say what doc?

We soon found out that our baby girl, who had been resting for weeks in a perfect-for-delivery, head down position, was now in the nightmarish double footling breech position.

The doctors said that because Tanika was almost fully dilated they did not think they had enough time to see if the baby would flip into the correct position. This meant that a c-section, which Tanika did not want to have, would be her new course.

I was tossed a pair of scrubs and Tanika was wheeled into the operating room. A nurse came to get me once Tanika was prepped for surgery.

The surgery happened so quickly. I felt like I had been in the room only minutes when they pulled our 7lbs, 14 oz Curveball from Tanika. We waited a few seconds before hearing the most beautiful cry in the world. We then both thanked God for a healthy baby and healthy mom before laughing at how upset Clair Elise Davis sounded.

There’s something incredibly beautiful about a baby’s first cry. They sound so sweet, pitiful and pissed off all at the same time.

Welcome to the world, my beautiful baby girl.

Big Day in the Davis household!

Yesterday was a big day for the Davises.

After my appointments, the doctor called in the afternoon and said they have scheduled me for an induction on Monday, Feb. 20th!! So there it is -- Curve Ball's birthday already penciled in!

I can't believe it's less than a week away, but somehow it still seems like an eternity. Mostly because I am not sleeping hardly at all anymore, thanks to discomfort and last-weeks-of-pregnancy insomnia. So I'm exhausted all day long, no exaggeration. And consequently, I have no patience for my three guys when I'm at home. They probably think I am the world's grumpiest person.
I also keep going back and forth between feelings of excitement that my baby daughter will be here next week, relief that I will no longer be pregnant, and anxiety about all things induction-and-labor-and-delivery-related, newborn-related, and adding a third child to a family-related, too. My brain is constantly going, going, going, with so many disparate and heavy thoughts.

And of course, I'm still thinking about all the tedious leftover things I have to do. Last night, I had the beginnings of a sugar low, so I got up at 1:30 a.m. to eat a snack, and while eating, I made ever more lists of stuff to do, including things I need to finish at work, and personal things like get Thank You cards written, addressed and mailed, figure out how to put the Bundle Me on the infant car seat, and send out paper invitations to my sister's baby shower. All before Monday.
So, yes, my brain is going non-stop!

Add to the mix the fact that we also got word yesterday that Cary and Dean got accepted into the pre-school we wanted them to go to! HOORAY!! Sooooo exciting! Pre-school!

We have options, too, about how often we want to send them, which makes my brain hurt even more.
We had been considering the 5-days-a-week half-day plan, which would have them in school from quarter to 8 until 11:30., giving them an introduction to school, a steady weekly routine, and giving Michelle a very small break, since she'll also have Curve Ball now to care for.
But because there are plenty of openings, we were told we can also send them three days a week, half-day; or three- or five-days a week full-day (which would end their day at 2:30).
Three days a week, half-day would be cheaper, saving us a little money (which is always welcome, especially during the Year of Austerity).
But to make Michelle's life easier, we're now leaning toward the three days a week, full day.
This way, she'd have three days a week where she is mostly home with only one little baby. And two days a week where she has all three munchkins.

Those of you who have been through the pre-school thing before, what do you think?

• Is 7:45 to 2:30 too long of a day for 2-and-a-half-year-olds? (They'd be starting in the fall).
• Is it better for kids their age to be in school 5 days a week for continuity's sake? Or is it sorta nice for them to transition into school slowly, and still have two days at home with their beloved babysitter? (This is my line of thinking, btw.)
• If you were a sitter of three kids, who was woefully underpaid, which school scenario sounds more appealing to you?

Either way, we are quite excited about our boys going to school in September, carrying little backpacks and leaving their baby sister at home, like the BIG boys that they are!

Big boys in school! New baby girl at home! Life is pretty exciting around this house these days.

I just hope Curve Ball doesn't decide to add any more excitement by arriving earlier than Monday! Please Curve Ball, in this case, don't live up to your name! :-)

1 week or less...

I'm officially working from home this week, thanks to the kindness of my boss, who was probably tired of watching me hobble around the office, looking like death warmed over.

I had monitoring and a doctor's appointment, though, on my first day working from home, then I came home and ate lunch, so now I really do have to work.

But here's the update:

Curve Ball is acing monitoring, so no worries there.

At the OB's I got a cervix check. I'm up to 1 cm. dilated, which means my cervix is "favorable."
That means induction it is!

The docs want to schedule for the day I turn 39 weeks, which is next Tuesday, but I asked if they could do it on next Monday -- one day shy of 39 weeks -- instead. That's because it's President's Day -- and Lester is off, but Michelle will be here working.
So my work-crazy hubby won't have to take a day off and we'll have babysitting covered, at least most of the day. So it just works out. It'd be fine on Tuesday, too, but I just thought I'd ask.

The doc has to check to see if she can schedule me for one day shy of 39 weeks, because there are rules apparently about that. So we'll know later on this afternoon or tomorrow morning if we will be going in for an induction on the 20th or the 21st.

So the countdown is on! Tick tock, tick tock....

(And that's all if she doesn't decide to come on her own before-hand, just to show everyone who is boss!)

How sweet it is to be loved by Cary and Dean

I know I always make my children sound like whirling dervishes, and that's true a lot of the time.
But they are also really, really sweet.

Yesterday, when I got home from work, I was POOPED! (You're saying, 'What else is new?' but honestly, I had a lot of unexpected energy the night before, so this level of pooped-ness was more noticeable.) I actually took a nap on the couch while Lester fed the boys dinner; that's how pooped I was.

After their dinner, we were all on the couch, hanging out. I was on one side of the sectional, wrapped in a blanket, and the boys were jumping all over Lester on the other side of the sectional.
Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed Dean staring at me. Then, he climbed down off the couch, grabbed a smaller blanket that was lying on the floor, climbed back up on the couch and ambled his way over couch pillows, books, toys and Lester to come plop himself down right next to me. He then pulled his little blanket up over his chest, up to his neck -- just the way I had mine. And he turned his head, looked up at me and smiled. "Ma-ma, blanket," he said. "Dean, blanket."
It was soooo cute.
It's like he thought I was lonely over on my side of the sectional.
And until he came over and put his little warm body next to mine, I hadn't realized that I was!


Then, a little bit later on, Cary and Dean were exhausting themselves playing with a scarf of mine, throwing it over each other's heads and faces and walking around like a camel with no head. Much falling over and giggling hysterically ensued, until Dean took a tumble and Cary fell on top of him, BAM, on the hardwood floor.
Dean is a little hardier than Cary when it comes to spills like that, so he didn't cry so much as whine. But still, I felt sorry for him.
Before I could comfort him, however, Cary stood up and hugged Dean from behind, squeezing his chest. "Brudder!" he said. Then he leaned his head into the back of Dean's neck and whined (sympathetically). "Brudder!" he said again.

I swear, I almost cried.

These boys melt my hearts -- whirling dervishes that they are.

(Me and all THREE of my children, on a different night of couch-playing. I love it when I can coax them both into a hug!)

One quick thing about each of my children

Quick report on the Davis children:

CARY:Yesterday, Cary pulled up his pajama shirt, pointed to his mid-section and said, "Baby!"

It was adorable! He was so proud!
Despite his enthusiasm, I explained that, no, Mommy is the one with the baby, and lifted my shirt to show him. He rubbed my belly, leaned in a little closer, and then yelled, "OUT!"

My sentiments exactly, buddy. My sentiments exactly.

He said it again -- "OUT!" -- so I had to tell him that the baby wasn't ready to come out yet. To which, he replied, "Toon?" (soon)....

Not soon enough, buddy. Not soon enough. :-)

DEAN: Lester had to stay home with the boys today because our sitter has jury duty (darn civic-minded woman!) and I skipped work Monday because of all our jillion dr's appointments, so I had to drag myself to the office today. While hanging out this morning with them, Lester sent me this photo of Dean, who had just eaten an entire apple, all by himself, without anyone cutting it up for him.
Here's Lester's words about this: I just finished reading a book to Cary when I noticed that the apple was gone. I asked Dean what happened to the apple and he said "eed it." I asked him where the apple went and he stuck his finger in his mouth. He ate everything except for the stem.

My child is such a gifted snacker. LOL. (But seriously, what a milestone. No more chopping every darn thing into tiny little pieces! Hooray!)

That's Cary's pajamed-butt in the shot, FYI.

And you might note that you rarely see photos of Dean these days without Cookie Monster near. Yes, Cookie has become the daytime "lovey." But never fear, Dean is still a complete and total nut for Puppy at night. This reminds me of an old, old song by Mary Wells: "Two Lovers."
In it she sings, "Well, I've got two lovers and I ain't ashamed. Two lovers and I love 'em both the same!"
That's totally Dean. Such a playa!

CURVE BALL: During monitoring this morning, I finally decided to bite the bullet and ask the tech about something that had been bothering me for many, many weeks. Since the gender scan at 19 weeks, not one person in the perinatologist's office -- not even the perinatologists -- will call my baby a girl. They never say "she" or "her" or anything. I know they try hard not to disclose the sex of a baby because so many people don't want to find out these days. But I already know! And they know I know, because they ask me at the start of every sono: "Do you know what you're having?" "Why yes, it's a girl." And even still -- they always call her "baby" or "it" or (my least favorite, because of how grammatically incorrect it is) "they" or "their." As in, "Baby's got their head in the right position!" "Baby's practicing their breathing!" Ugh!

I want to scream every time -- She's a GIRL! And she's JUST ONE GIRL, so how could she possibly be a "their?" UGH!!

It was starting to make me slightly paranoid. I thought: What if she's NOT a girl? What if they just thought she was a girl way back when things were not as clearly formed, but they know now that she's a he, and they don't want to tell me?? What will I do with the girly room? All the girl's clothes? We don't have a name for a boy!!! (I know this makes no sense...)

Anyway, today, I just finally asked, rather sheepishly: Can I take a peek at her girly parts again? I just want to make sure she's still a girl.

The tech quickly zeroed in on her bottom section, and sure enough, girly parts, plain as day!

I have a photo, which gives me great joy (the room can stay covered in flowers and hearts, Yay!), but Lester made me promise not to post "pornographic pictures" of his daughter's private parts. (His words, not mine.)

So you'll just have to take my word for it.

She's a she. Yay!

37 weeks daydreams

I'm 37 weeks today. And I can sorta see the light at the end of the tunnel but it is faint, folks. Like, that tiny little pinlight that the eye doctor shines on a wall a million miles away and asks if you can see it.

I just told a friend this morning in an email that the biggest thing is that I am SOOO, SOO, SOOO, SOOO tired. I'm too uncomfortable to sleep at night, and then when I do drift off, I have to pee 10 seconds later. And I'm starting to get emotional because I'm so tired. This morning I wanted to cry because I couldn't find the small containers to go with the matching Tupperware tops. And Lester said, totally benignly, "Maybe you left them at work?" which -- for some reason -- made tears well up in my eyes. Like, "Don't ACCUSE me of losing the Tupperware! I am doing the best I can here!"
Isn't that crazy? Seriously, I am a tired, uncomfortable, cranky, tired, tired, tired mess.

I frequently have daydreams about sleeping. Last night, I had an actual dream about sleeping.

And yes, I know that sleeping is going to be a mere memory once Curve Ball is actually here. But let's cross that bridge when we come to it.

Other than sleeping, here's what else I daydream about:

• Walking up the stairs without feeling like I'm climbing a mountain
• Getting out of the bed without rocking or rolling or needing assistance
• Warm brownies with vanilla ice cream
• Being able to wear my regular clothes
• Being able to sit my boys on my lap again
• Pillsbury slice 'n bake cookies, hot out of the oven
• Putting my shoes on in less than 5 minutes (and without grunting and groaning)
• Seeing less of my bathroom
• Not being mad at my co-workers when they go to our single office bathroom without asking me if I have to go first, because, HELLLO! Of course I have to go.
• Friday night Chinese take-out
• Salt 'n vinegar potato chips
• S-E-X (well, OK, not really. But I do daydream about the day when I will daydream about that again.)
• Middle of the day napping with my peacefully sleeping baby
• Seeing her face for the very first time

But mostly, if I am honest, I daydream about sleep. And I can't wait until that dream becomes a reality again.

(A year from now. LOL.)

Post-consult update

Lester and I spent the morning in consultations with the perinatologist and the OB.

Here's the deal:

Curve Ball is doing great! She's doing amazing during the monitoring sessions; her weight is good and my pressure is good. There's plenty of fluid; she's moving around. The docs aren't worried so much about her size -- the computer has her at about 6 lbs. 12 oz. (give or take 20-percent).
Everything looks wonderful.

Which means that the doctors are no longer as worried about her as they once were -- and also that it was a really good thing I stopped being a wimp about the insulin and just did what needed to be done. I'm so happy I don't have to worry (as much) about her as I did before. I really do feel lighter after hearing that news. My baby's OK! Yay!!

But all this over-achieving that my child is doing makes the delivery situation a little more complicated. When the docs were thinking she might be the size of a baby hippo at birth, they were pretty sure by this point, they'd be talking C-section or induction pronto.

But now, both doctors agree that I can continue to gestate for two more weeks -- at which point I'll be 39 weeks. If I haven't gone into labor naturally by then, they both independently suggested induction.

Two things to note about what I just wrote. 1) The docs are thinking I can deliver vaginally! This was pretty much out of the question a couple months ago! And I may still have a chance of going into labor on my own! This is great news to me. 2) TWO weeks is all I have left. TWO weeks!

Curve Ball is due on Feb. 28, but 39 weeks will be Feb. 21 -- the day after President's Day. Lester is leaning toward delivery on President's Day because, ever the practical one, he's thinking about the fact that we'll both be off work, but Michelle will still be working. I suppose that is a pretty good idea, actually. Curve Ball?? Listen to your Daddy!!

Two weeks, people!! The countdown is on!

So much to do!!!!!!!!!! Gotta pack my bag; gotta figure out the child-care situation. Gotta wrap stuff up at work. Gotta wash her clothes, fold them and put them away. Gotta make some dinners and freeze them! Gotta find a stupid baby store that sells baby hats!! (Babies 'R Us says they're sorry, but they're getting ready for spring, so no hats for your infant's daughter poor exposed head. Target doesn't have any either. My child is going to freeze to DEATH!! Ugh!)

One more time for the record: TWO WEEKS!

Showered with love!

Yesterday, my Mom and two of my good friends threw me (and Curve Ball) a little baby shower.

I had hoped to post some of the great pictures I took at the shower (using my actual camera, and not my phone, for once) but of course, I left my camera at my Mom's and who knows when I'll see it again. Sigh.

So this is the only picture I have, sent to me by my sister from her iPhone:



She's 6 weeks behind me, but you could never tell that by looking at us. She's huge!! (And I mean that in a good way!) I have the feeling her son and my daughter are going to be best of friends. They're probably in there in this picture, talking to one another, plotting to take over the world (and our hearts).

It was soooo nice to be around good friends and family and to open up the most adorable little dresses and sleepers for my soon-to-be-here daughter. I had SUCH a good time, I can't even tell you. And I truly, truly am blessed because you have no idea how many lovely things Curve Ball got. I was expecting a "sprinkle" and got a full-fledged shower!!

Everything was just beautiful, but a couple things just really touched my heart:

My friend Kelly bought me this book, which she said always makes her cry when she reads it to her daughter -- a sweetiepie who is exactly a month younger than Cary and Dean.


I read it today, when I had time to really sort through her things, and got all choked up. I mean, with lines like this, how could I not?

Words can be worrisome,
people complex,
motives and manner unclear,
grant her the wisdom to choose her path right,
free from unkindness and fear.

UGH!! Talk about tear-jerker verses. I love it.

Then, my friend Stacey gave me four soft-as-can-be onesies that she personally embroidered, with sayings like, "Sweet" and "Darling." Look at this oh-so-sweet gray one, which says "Love"! Oh, yes, more tears ensued when I opened these.


And THEN, my sister hand-painted wooden letters to spell out my lovebug's name! The letters are adorably whimsical and made-with-love and are absolutely perfect. This is the last letter in Curve Ball's name -- R -- and on it, Tahira (my sister) wrote her a little personal note. Isn't that the sweetest???


I'm going to put the letters up on the wall in Curve Ball's room, in the empty space you see here, between the crib and the changing table-dresser-thingy. I'm thinking vertical. Anyone have thoughts on that?


And here are a couple other photos of Curve Ball's room, which is, finally, basically done. Yay!
It's hard to get a good angle of the whole room, because it's small and configured in a way that is not photo-friendly. But you get the gist.


Here's the reading/rocking nook. The frame on the wall holds two of her sonogram photos, and has space for three of her newborn photos, when we eventually get those done.


I'm going to order a dust ruffle for the crib and obviously we're going to put sheets on the crib mattress, and a Boppy cover, and put the hot pink changing pad cover back on, after they're all washed. But other than that, this is pretty much it. I'm pretty happy with it. I hope she will be too. :-)


P.S. Speaking of washing, this is just ONE of the baskets of Curve Ball-related stuff I have to wash, fold and put away before she gets here. I think I need to take a week off from work!

OK -- gotta go. The Super Bowl is over and my husband is demanding the laptop. And I need a snack!

G'night!

Embrace the crazy

I think I am coming to the end of my crazy-at-work-days, or at least, I'm getting close. There still may be one or two days next week that are hectic. But I can see a light at the end of the tunnel.

Meanwhile, my boys have stepped up the crazy!

Yesterday they woke up at 5:30 a.m. (Ugggggh!)We put them in our bed and told them to lie there quietly (yeah, right) so we could snooze until the alarm went off. Genius that I am, I placed my trusty body pillow between them, to prevent them from kicking each other, stealing each other's loveys and just generally being pests to one another.

Did this stop them? Pllllbbbt! What was I thinking? They kept popping their little heads up over the body pillow, peeking at one another and giggling hysterically. They reminded me so much of a live version of Whack-a-mole, I couldn't help but laugh. And then I was wide awake, and not grumpy at all.
You two are craaazy, I thought! But so, so cute!

Then this morning, while I was in the shower, the boys pulled the clothes out of their hamper and crawled into it. They do this a lot, actually, and we don't stop them because they find it so fun, calling the "amper" a "nunnel" (tunnel) and laughing. But today, apparently, they were laughing and frolicking a little too hard, and so rolled the hamper -- while inside of it -- out of their bedroom, into the hallway and down the STAIRS!!
Thank GOD we have a landing just two steps down, so they rolled only as far as the landing. But it scared them to no end, especially poor Dean, who took a spill out of the hamper and bumped his little (big) head. It also scared Lester who I heard go barreling into the hallway, screaming, "Noooooo!"
(I won't make any sweeping judgmental comments here about certain people who NEVER did install the baby gate at the top of the stairs...Ahem.)

Like I said, thank God for the landing and thank God no one was hurt. But still ... those two are craaaazy, no? How much mischief can they manage to get into before 7:30 a.m.? Sheesh.

Lately, they have found more and more ways to be crazy. They push their blocks and small toys into the slats of our living room radiator. They drink so much bath water, they choke themselves just about every night. They have learned to take their clothes off, and so, as often as not, are shirtless in the house, speeding around, yelling "running! running!"

(Lester sent me this picture this morning, showing me that Cary didn't last 5 minutes downstairs before discarding his pajama top. What they were doing lying side-by-side on the floor is anyone's guess.)

They make us laugh so much with their antics and the things they say: like waking up this morning immediately asking to go "ow-sye" to "pway" with our next-door-neighbor's son, "Baby Greg." And then reciting the names of Michelle's dogs, whom they've only met through pictures on her phone: "Petto, pees! Zoe!!" And then demanding we turn the "noose on!" And then asking us to give their loveys a "tiss." Over and over.

All this before Lester and I can muster the energy to even get out of bed.

Their boundless energy and happiness is a total pick-me-up, and I'm so glad -- even at 6:10 a.m. -- to have their little toes kneading my thighs, and their smiling faces leaned over my head, waaaay too close for that time of the morning, demanding I get up and get this party started!!

I love, love, love their utter craziness. And I'm crazy in love with them.

Canceled!

I feel so rejected.

My car insurance company just divorced me. By certified letter.

Remember the bread truck incident?

Well, I guess that was too much for them to handle. So they opted to break up. De-friend me.
I'm kicked to the curb y'all. Canceled.

Sigh.

I really do feel rejected -- and mad!

Who divorces a pregnant woman??? Sheesh.

Mean ole car insurance company! I want to call them up and say, "Listen -- I am a good person and a good driver! Both accidents I've had recently have been when I was pregnant. And I'm not going to be pregnant anymore after this. So give me another chance!"

But then, that makes me feel like a beggar. And I start to resort to my old single-gal dating mantras:
Why would I want to be with anyone who doesn't want me?
I'll find someone better than you!
One monkey don't stop no show.
Good riddance, meanie!!

Seriously. I had a minor, minor accident when I was pregnant with the boys and then the much more serious (and expensive) bread truck crash while carrying Curve Ball. Before that, nothing for years! No tickets or anything! It's clear that pregnancy affects my driving somehow.

Waaaaaah!

Friends, be honest, shouldn't it be a form of discrimination to cancel a woman while she's 9 months pregnant!?

Ugh! Off to find a new company. Add that to the ever-growing list of things to do.

Uh-oh...sibling rivalry already?

I don't usually post twice in one day, but I just remembered that I needed to get this down before I forgot.

Two nights ago, I'm sitting on the sofa, while Cary and Dean are crawling all over me and the pillows, being busy as usual.

I had my shirt pulled up and the elastic maternity-waistband thingy on my pants pulled down, giving my poor, itchy skin a breather. So my belly was on full display.

Cary spied this, came speed-crawling over, and yanked my shirt down.

"Close!" he said.

"You don't want to see Mommy's tummy?" I asked, thinking maybe this distorted, stretch-marked monstrosity grosses them out (because Dean does the SAME thing, whenever my stomach is exposed.)

"Noooo!" he said. "No baby! Noooooo, BABY!"

So...apparently, it's not the gross tummy he's opposed to. It's the baby inside he's got a problem with.

Uh-oh. And I thought Dean was gonna be the problem.

On talking, reading, singing and talking some more

Last night I had an appointment after work, so on my way there, I called home to talk to Lester and the boys, who were playing a little before getting ready for dinner.

Lester put me on speaker-phone so I could talk to the boys. Cary just wanted to push the buttons and giggle, but Dean had something to say:

Dean: Hi, Muh-muh.

Me: Hi, Deanie!!

Dean: Mo racka? (Lester had given them crackers to tide them over before dinner, and Dean wanted more. Lester had already said "no" a thousand times. So now he's asking me.)

Me: You want more crackers?

Dean: Pre-pees. (For some reason, he always says "pretty please," even though no one seems to recall teaching him that.)

Me: No, sweetie. Daddy said the crackers are all gone. It's almost time for dinner.

Dean: Dinner. Ah-mose.

Me. That's right. It's almost time for dinner. Do you want some good dinner? Daddy's gonna give you dinner soon.

Dean: Nooooooo! No dinner!

(Lester, in the background: "Cary, do you want some dinner?" Cary: "Noooooooooooo!! Nooooooo! Pway! [play]")

Me: Ummm, OK, babe. Talk to you later. (I felt meltdowns coming on any second and, to be frank, the radio was rockin' in the car, and I much preferred some sweet tunes to the cacophony of screaming toddlers.)

I recount this little scene to point out that I had a fairly intelligible phone conversation with my not-yet 21-month old baby, the one who is actually the least talkative of the two.

This just goes to show you Moms of infant twins or twin-Moms-to-be (you know who you are, DCAngel and Wiley) that all the books that tell you that twins will likely be speech delayed, and that boys will likely be speech delayed, and that preemies will likely be speech delayed -- all those books don't know diddly.

Now, I'm not saying don't read the books. I read them and I continue to read them. I just ordered the next in the series of Ames books to help me understand year 2 for the boys. The books ARE helpful. But they are not the end-all, be-all.

YOU know your kid(s) better than anyone. And you can defy the odds (barring any actual developmental issues that need outside intervention) just by doing what comes naturally to you: loving your babies, reading constantly to them, talking to them not at them, repeating things 800 million times, etc. etc.

It fueled me every time I read that twins were likely to get HALF the attention that a single baby would get. It drove me to say, That's what you think, baby books! My boys are going to get DOUBLE the attention. Ha! Take that!

And so I made it my mission. I made my sister read to them in the NICU when she came to see them. My Nana laughed at us that we read to them at one week old. "Will you look at this?!" she cackled. "Reading books to them already!" We never designated a "storytime." Anytime was a good time to read. We play music (kids' songs) everyday, regardless of how sick we get of hearing them. We sing to them ALL the time. They see TV in the mornings, when we're getting ready for work ("Noose!" they demand, if we don't have the Today Show turned on fast enough) and during football games (Lester insists). But other than that, no TV. We are with them, doing things and talking about what we're doing, explaining and expounding and then explaining some more. It's exhausting, if I'm being honest. But it's important.

(Two months old, already dreaming about books:)

And I'm not patting myself on the back here -- there are a million things I could and should do better as a parent. (Oh, yes, sooo many things!) I'm just saying that we were determined to make their early years language-rich, and so we try really hard not to let ourselves lapse in that area.

It goes to show you that determination can pay off!

Now...enter Curve Ball in a few weeks.

Will we have the energy to do it all over again?? Seriously, when I say that all that talking/reading/repeating/explaining/singing is exhausting, I mean it. How will we ever muster the energy to do this all again??

"Yes, CurveBall. That's a spoon. A spoon. Do you see the spoon? You have a blue spoon. We eat with a spoon. Mmmm. Eat! Do you want your spoon? Cary has a spoon. Dean has a spoon, too. Let's hold your spoon. Do you want to read the fun book we read yesterday about the dish running away with the spoon? Let's get the book and read it. Book. Mommy will go get the book. Mommy LOVES to read books. Do you like books?"

Lordhavemercy. I'm tired just thinking about it.

I pray I have the energy, the strength, the wherewithal to do for my ONE child what I did (and continue to do) for the two first-borns.

Which is why I ordered ... two books about that! :-)

36 weeks ...and the clock is ticking

I am officially 9 months pregnant, as of today!

This is mind-boggling to me, since I only made it to 8 months with Cary and Dean, and I thought I was going to die from exhaustion and discomfort then.

I'm prayerful that she will stay in as long as necessary to be healthy and ready to be in the outside world. And of course I am fretting about how having a newborn will upset the entirety of my life -- and that of everyone in my house, too.

But it sure feels good to know that I won't have to be pregnant too much longer. I'm at the point where getting out of bed -- especially with a full bladder (which is a given) -- takes real effort. Grunting, groaning, rolling, physical effort. Bending is out of the question. Stairs are like mountains.

Curve Ball is a huge solid mass, taking up almost all the space in my core. There's so little room that when I have to pinch some fat to give myself an insulin injection, it really has gotten incredibly difficult, and I end up injecting wherever I can. She's head down, and has been for a couple weeks. She's low, low, low, and is creating incredible pressure on my groin area. Sometimes, it's hard to walk because of all the pressure. I'm tired and somewhat grouchy and I want to EAT A BROWNIE, fer crying out loud!!

But I am also fascinated and enamored with the evidence of her little heel, scraping across my ribcage. She often pokes her little foot up and I can't believe that that is my daughter's little foot -- right there, announcing itself so severely and sweetly at the same time.

I keep peeking in her room (which I hope will be done soon so I can post photos) and I can't help but smile. She has a room! She has tiny little clothes! She has a teddy bear!

My mom is throwing a little baby shower for me this weekend -- so small we're calling it a "sprinkle" -- and I am excited to see some friends and family, and open up little boxes of sweet girl clothes. Once I get all that stuff, I'll wash everything I've gotten -- both new and handed-down -- and put her things away in her drawers.

(Two things she's already gotten from her very giddy father, who, by the way, did not buy his sons one item of clothing when I was carrying them! Not one. But his little daughter?? Well, she must have a little bathtime bunting with ducks on it, and a pink sleeper bearing a cupcake! She just must!)

And then, at some point, we really do have to figure out what's happening with the car seat situation. But other than those last few things, we are ready for our lovebug.

Our house is ready. My body is more than ready.

And my heart ...well, I think my heart has been ready before I ever knew she existed.

Argh! And aaaaaaaah! And waaaaaaah!

I am so super tired, with so much to do at work, and so OVER all of the monitoring sessions and appointments that take up my entire mornings (leaving me with even MORE work to do at work), I don't know what to do.

Seriously, I feel like I want to scream!

And then sleep for 12 hours. Or 24. Good grief, I'm tired.

I had things I wanted to say about the boys, and how funny and cute they are -- especially when I say things about the baby coming and their response is "No, please!" -- and I was going to post about how Curve Ball refused to practice breathing at today's monitoring session, making the docs stretch the appointment out for an additional hour, and I was going to talk about how I am a crazy person and am trying to help plan my sister's baby shower before I pop this baby out, which would have led into a list of all the many friends I have who are pregnant (it's really quite remarkable, at my age, especially)...and on and on.

But I am so pooped, and my mind so scattered, and seriously, WHY am I on this blog when I have SO much to do at work (have I said that already?)....

So...in light of all that pooped-ness and scatterbrain-ness and work, work, work, work, work -- I will just end this stream-of-consciousness here and get back to blogging at some later date.

Later, y'all.

35 weeks and counting

Today I am 35 weeks.

Exciting! I remember being 34 weeks pregnant with the boys and hoping to make it to 36 weeks. Didn't happen, but the boys turned out fine. That makes me feel better, as I am hoping to keep little Miss Missy tucked in until at least 37-38 weeks. But if it doesn't happen, I have every confidence that she'll be fine. (Check out optimistic me!)

Yesterday in the doctor's office, I met a woman who was waiting for her 6-week post-delivery appointment. She had her little baby with her, and when I say "little" baby, boy do I mean it. Apparently, she was born a month early, and 6 weeks later is just now fitting into newborn clothes! She weighed 3 lbs. 11 oz. when she was born. Can you imagine? Talk about a doll baby!

This makes me understand why people are always like "Wow, you did so well!" when I tell them that Cary was 4 lbs. 4 oz. and Dean was 4 lbs. 10 oz. -- even at 5 weeks early. I'm pretty sure it was all the fattening up I did of them during the early part of my pregnancy, when I was stuffing my face with any and everything. I wonder how big they would have been if I had actually made it to 36 weeks!

Curve Ball, of course, also will not be too shabby in the weight department (for an entirely different reason) but I'm less worried now, for some reason, that she'll be a sumo wrestler. Somehow, I've calmed down a little bit about it, and I just think she'll be bigger than she might have been without the diabetes, but not so big as to be a major, major issue. This is just my gut telling me this. (I hope I can depend on my gut.) I also hope she won't have low blood sugar upon delivery and have to go to the NICU. My gut is silent on that issue right now. But I'm so hoping for a normal post-delivery experience, where I get to keep my baby with me in my room and snuggle and practice nursing (at least until I need to get some sleep, when I will promptly send her chunky self to the nursery for a few hours. Don't judge me! Ain't no shame in that, folks!)

Anyway - we do another growth scan next Thursday, and then the following Monday, we'll have the conversation with both the perinatologist and the OB about delivery. So we are really getting close.

In fact, we're getting so close that I have started to think about how -- if in any way -- we should be preparing Cary and Dean for the complete obliteration of life as they know it. I have not really given this much thought at all up until now, but I guess I should be doing something, right? Should I buy a children's book?

Does anyone have good thoughts about how to help older siblings (who are still very much babies) be OK with getting a new baby sister? All ideas considered.

34 weeks, 5 days

Today I hit the 34 week, 5 day mark in my pregnancy. This day is significant because on this day two years ago, I had just given birth to two tiny little baby boys. They were outside of me, in the great, big world, breathing on their own, alive and well and healthy. But no longer solely mine.

So, assuming I make it through the next hour and 10 minutes, I will have crossed over into new territory; I will have been pregnant longer than I ever have before.

So now that I've made it, I can make a prediction about her birth.

My due date is Feb. 28th. But I'm predicting she'll come (either on her own or medically induced) between Feb. 16th and 20th. Anyone else have a good guess?

Meanwhile, my friend Stacey came over this weekend and gave me a lot of adorable baby things she doesn't need anymore, like a baby swing, which we didn't have for the boys, because there was no room in this little house for two swings. The swing looks so sweet; I can't wait to see my little honeypie in it!

Stacey also knows that I am a total NUT about the fact that Curve Ball is being born in one of the coldest months of the year. I have serious, undeniable craziness when it comes to babies being cold -- or merely thinking that babies just might be cold. One day I'll tell you about how I wrapped my children in swaddling blankets and footie pajamas and socks and onesies because of the air conditioning in the house -- in the middle of May!

Anyway, to prepare for this winter baby, my friend Stacey gave me these adorable little boots that once belonged to her own little baby:


So at least I can feel comfortable knowing that her little toes will be warm and toasty.
Thanks, Stacey!

Countdown to 34 weeks, 6 days....

Curveball photos (as promised)

Sooo much going on at work the next couple weeks, I am seriously dizzy from trying to keep it all straight.

I'm in between conference calls right now, so I thought I'd just post these two photos really quickly, since I promised to do it yesterday.

First, Curveball at 33 weeks, 6 days:



I think she looks like Dean, but Michelle (our babysitter) thinks she looks a lot like Cary. Go figure.
Lester said, "Why does she look angry? Is she going to be an angry baby?"
Lord, I hope not. I am praying for "quiet, sweet, compliant, happy and loves-to-sleep" baby. Is that too much to ask?

And here is the centerpiece of the design of Curveball's room. This took me about 90 minutes to do, and I didn't even put up all the pieces. There are other decals that I will eventually put strategically around the room, in bare spots -- along with some framed photos, etc. -- but I don't want it to look too junked-up with stuff, so I'll have to think carefully about where everything goes.

Once the valance is up, and I have her bedding, and the other decals are in place, I'll take shots of the full room, so you can see the whole thing.
But for now -- the Tree of Happy Babyness!

I realize now that I probably could have put it up a little higher, as there are leaves and flowery-things that get hidden by her crib. But I have mentioned here before that I am short, so this was as good as it was gonna get, without a ladder. And I was in no mood for ladders on Monday when I did this, especially not with a head cold and a baby on my bladder.

Anyway, despite it being too low on the wall, I think it turned out pretty cute, eh?
I can't wait until the whole thing is done!

OK...that's all I have time for today, except to say again how much I enjoyed my brunch and conversation with Beth on Sunday. I hope 2012 brings more meetings with more blogfriends! If you all are as awesome as Beth, I am in for a TREAT!

Weekend re-cap

I left my cell phone at home and Lester gave me his cold over the weekend, so I'm discombobulated and out of sorts and that means this blog post will be super short.

Weekend re-cap:

Saturday, my sugars were out of control and I felt wiped out the entire day, so I stayed on the couch most of the time and found creative ways to entertain the boys from there.

Sunday, I met up with Beth!!!!! We had brunch and dished about marriage and babies and life, and it was so much fun. She's sooo great. I'm so glad I started this blog so I could meet people like her! Did we take any pictures, you ask? Ummm...of course we did not. We were too busy stuffing our faces and laughing.

Sunday, late evening, I started feeling like I was getting sick. I tried to ignore it. Then, as I'm lying in bed watching Fair Game (a movie about the Valerie Plame story), I started having back-to-back Braxton Hicks. By the time I started counting them, I got up to NINE in an hour.
So I called the on-call doctor, who said to drink a ton of water and watch it for two more hours, and if there were six or more into the third hour, to come to Labor and Delivery. The next hour there were six. And the next hour, I have no idea, because it was way past my bedtime and I fell asleep. I don't think there were that many, though, but I did have to get up and pee 8,000 times because of all the water I drank. 15 contractions in two hours? Weird, right? I have no idea what that was all about.

I was glad that I had monitoring the next day, so I could get a cervix check.

Monday, I was full-blown sick. I went to my monitoring session at the perinatal center feeling headachey and sore-throaty and generally sore. I slept so hard through monitoring, I actually snored. (Embarrassing!) But at least my cervix looks good (nice and closed) and the baby seems fine. I even got a new picture of her where I think she looks like Dean.

Did I bring the picture to scan here? No, of course I did not. Sigh.

Being sick was annoying because I had big plans for Monday, including finally taking down Christmas decorations and putting up some of the decorations in Curve Ball's room. But I slept most of the day (this is the benefit of having an awesome husband) and when I woke up, I was feeling sluggish and unmotivated.

But... Lester took the boys to the grocery store and I just couldn't waste that alone time, no matter how poorly I felt. So I rushed, rushed, rushed and took down just about all the Christmas decorations (don't ask if they're packed very well) and managed to straighten up the toys and miscellaneous stuff around the house while they were gone.

And then, when the boys went to sleep, I did manage to put up what will be the main centerpiece of decor in Curve Ball's room. It took more than 90 minutes to do, and there was a lot of reaching and bending and standing, so I gave up around 9:45 and came to bed.

I watched the last half of the Republican debate with Lester and afterwards was out like a light. And there's my weekend.

Did I take any pictures of Curve Ball's room? No, of course I didn't. But I'll post again tomorrow and I'll have a photo then. I promise.

So...tomorrow, a picture of Curve Ball and a picture of the progress I'm making in her room. But no picture of me and Beth. You'll just have to take my word for it that we both looked FABULOUS!

Office Baby Shower!

I really love my job. I've said it before -- how much I like having a job (even if it makes motherhood that much more challenging), and, more importantly, having THIS job. I truly enjoy the work that I do, and I have really, really great bosses and co-workers.

Case in point: They threw me a baby shower/luncheon today! At one of my favorite Indian restaurants!!!

I got a ton of stuff off my registry, including the lamp, wall art and changing pad cover that matches Curve Ball's bedding; an espresso-colored wicker basket set that includes a hamper and a wastebasket (to tone down all the cutesy-ness); a tummy time mat; sheets and a mattress pad cover for her bed; baby lotions and washes; and cute books!

They even bought Curve Ball her first Teddy Bear!


Awwww!

I am so touched and grateful! My co-workers are the best! (And the food was YUMMMMY!)

Plus, it was really sweet of them to invite Lester!


Now I am totally amped to go home and start decorating Curve Ball's room!!! One of my bosses said, "Weekend project?" Clearly she has no idea who she's dealing with. Ummm...all night long TONIGHT project!! Holla!

(I think I might have had a little too much chai...)

Maybe they aren't moving so fast after all!

Despite my pleas with everyone NOT to buy Cary and Dean anything that "sings, lights up, plays music, or requires batteries," for Christmas, my Dad insisted on giving them motorized cars!

Motorized cars that you sit in. And drive. Really fast.

I was flabbergasted. They're too little! I said. They aren't ready for that kind of thing! Maybe when they're 3?? Maybe? I begged my parents to hold on to the cars until their 2nd birthday, when they'll be a little bit bigger, slightly more mature, and the weather will be warmer so they can actually use them. Secretly, I don't want those darn cars even then, but I was trying to compromise.

Unfortunately, my Dad never won any awards for his compromising skills. Bless his heart.

So Cary and Dean got big, loud, really fast, motorized cars for Christmas.


My Dad was so excited. He couldn't wait to put the boys on the cars and whoooosh them around the kitchen on Christmas Day.

Needless to say, my two little, not-yet-2-year-olds were terrified of them. Absolutely terrified.

Even today, when Cary sees them at my parents' house he says, "Car. Dranddad. Push! Noooooo!" and runs away.

Meanwhile, my mom found two little schoolbuses at the local CVS and gave them to the boys last weekend when I was there, and Cary and Dean barely let those things out of their sight. Guess what I told Mom and Dad to buy the boys for Christmas? A fire truck. And a school bus.

I'm not one to say 'I told you so,' but....(clears throat) (clears throat again)...

At first my Dad was a little bit hurt, I think. He really was so excited about those contraptions.

But then, this past weekend, he found something lying around in his garage that is a little more Cary and Dean's speed:



Scooters! They love 'em! And look how slow they go! Yay! This is more Mommy's speed, too.

Bonus -- Scooters don't make noise. And...these ones stay at my parents'! Whooo-hooo!

Note: You get to see some of my crazy (and wonderful) nieces and nephews in this shot, including my 6-year-old niece Aminah, who is so desperate to be in the shot that she waves her hands in front of the phone, and then, when that doesn't work, does a cartwheel! Such a 6-year-old move! Gotta love the aplomb on that girl.

Moving out of the way -- a little too fast

There's a saying among my aunties and Grandmas and their friends about babies and walking.

When a child starts walking, they usually say, in a knowing voice, "Mmmm-hmmm. Getting out of the way for the next one."

Meaning, somehow the child intrinsically knows that Mommy is going to need to free up her arms for a new baby -- either one who is already cooking, or who is soon to be created. So the child starts walking, making carrying him or her around less and less necessary.

This certainly turned out to be true in my case. I found out I was pregnant at the end of June, and Cary and Dean started walking 4th of July weekend. You should have heard the clucking among all my female relatives. Their truism had been proven right again: Cary and Dean were "getting out of the way for the next one."

Since then, they have been making strides toward independence steadily and impressively. They can go up and down stairs on their own, and have even started -- unprompted -- trying to navigate stairs on two feet, instead of on all fours. They are doing much better about using a fork at dinner. They have started saying "poop," and pointing to their diapers, after pooping. (Yes, I know that is closing the barn door after the horses are out, but it shows they are aware of their bodily functions and have a name for them -- one step closer to potty-training.) They understand more and more, and their language skills constantly blow my mind! Cary and Dean both use time-related words like "after" and "almost," which is really advanced (in my opinion), and Cary has started saying things like, "Mommy, too" when he wants me to join in a fun game of twirl around the room until you're so dizzy you fall down, or some such. And Dean said, "Wuv you," to me two nights ago on his way up the stairs for his bath -- without me saying it first or asking him to say it. He just said it. On his own. As Cary blew me kisses. Ummm, color me wrapped around their little chubby fingers! I absolutely swooned. They are amazing.

They've even started doing things that are developmentally appropriate, but scary! Trying to walk down the stairs, instead of crawl, as I mentioned, is one thing. Be still my heart!
But the worst is the running. Oh, the running.

Here's a story for you:

This weekend, I took the boys by myself to my parents' house so Lester could paint Curve Ball's room (the green turned out really pretty and not Mountain Dewy at all!! Yay!) On Sunday, I decided to stop off at my Granddad's house in DC to visit him, since I hardly ever get to see him and he's 96 and lives alone, and loves, loves, loves to see the boys. I pulled up in front of the house, and got the boys out of the car one-by-one. I took their hands to walk them up Granddad's front steps, and they BOTH refused. "Nooooo!" they yelled. "No. No. No!"
No amount of pleading, cajoling or bribing could get them up the porch steps.
So I decided to walk up the steps myself to put all my bags down and I just sucked it up: I was going to have to carry them (as hard as it is for me right now to do that) one-by-one up the steps.
As I turned to come down the steps, both boys took. off. running. I hobbled down the stairs as fast as I could, but not nearly fast enough to prevent both toddlers from running INTO THE STREET!
Granddad lives in the city, not on some suburban cul-de-sac. And they ran, not into the narrow street that Granddad lives on, but into the cross street, a hugely-busy, wide main thoroughfare, that is normally teeming with speeding cars.
My heart literally was pounding out of my chest. I SCREAMED at them to stop, but this - of course - just made them laugh, as they ran down the middle of the street at top speeds, one straight down the middle, the other veering off at an angle.
I honestly thought I was going to lose it.
Me and my big pregnant belly, tired and sluggish and unable to move quickly -- running after these two boys who had somehow gotten super-quick, seemingly overnight! It was horrible.
I finally caught up to them, and had to basically drag them back up the street. They were both fighting me and pulling away; Cary even sat down in the middle of the street at one point. I had to use real force to get them out of the street and onto the sidewalk.
And then, I eventually had to muster the strength to pick them BOTH up at one time, one tucked under my right arm, the other under my left. They kicked and cried and fought against me! It was a real struggle, and one I've honestly never experienced before with them. By the grace of God, I was able to heave and pant and plod my way into my Granddad's house, where I literally dropped them both -- crying and angry -- on the floor.
And then I burst into tears.

Praise God (seriously) that there were NO cars coming down the street in either direction (this is really unheard of). And Praise God neither the boys nor I fell during this scary scene.

Later that night, Lester and I made a joint decision that I can no longer go out by myself with them while a million months pregnant. And I'm fine with that. I don't need a scare like that again anytime soon. Lord knows I don't. Ugh! (Thinking about it now still makes my heart race.)

As I look back on that day, and their ability to RUN away from me, I see that they really are getting bigger, stronger, faster, and more willful and independent. In other words, getting out of the way for the next baby.

I know I'm going to need to focus on Curve Ball when she gets here, and that I'll need them to be big boys who help Mommy, not hinder me, while I'm trying to take care of a wriggly, screaming, needy newborn.

But I have to say: I liked it so much better when Cary and Dean wanted nothing more than to stand right by my side, holding my hand, happily following Mommy's lead.

I know this is natural. And necessary.

But I already miss them. Their little hands in mine. Their baby-ness. Their needing me.

It may be true that they may have to move out of the way for their little sister.

But I wish they didn't have to move so fast -- and so far.

Save me from car seat h-e-double-hockey-sticks!

So, our babysitter Michelle has a Volkswagen Jetta. It's a very cute little car, but it is proving to be very inconvenient for us, as we prepare to welcome Baby No. 3 into our family. Darn tiny German cars!!

Here's the issue:

When Curve Ball gets here, we will need to fit three car seats in her car, for the times when she has to take all three kids somewhere (probably not often), and especially for when the boys start preschool in the fall and she has to pack up Curve Ball to go pick them up. (It's a half-day program).

Right now, she has the boys still in their infant seats -- rear-facing. But they'll obviously need to move to convertible seats ASAP. We already bought two for our own car. We have been holding off on purchasing two more for her car, until we could figure out how we would possibly get three car seats in the back of her car. But it's getting down to the wire. We have to make a decision and start ordering soon.

Michelle's backseat is only about 46 or 47 inches across.

Even with our slightly wider CRV, we still had to buy a whole new vehicle to be able to accommodate three car seats. As great as she is to us, I don't think Michelle is buying a minivan anytime soon.

So I've been researching "narrow car seats" on the Internets. My head is spinning from all the research! So far, what I've found is that parents and reviewers alike all say the Sunshine Kids Radian seats are the narrowest on the market, and still very safe. Many parents even say you can fit three of them across in the back of a mid-sized car. I was so excited to read that (all my problems solved!), until I realized that:

1) We need to fit two convertible car seats and one infant seat/carrier in the back. Looking at the dimensions of all three, the math will never, ever work. Even when I do my version of math, which is fuzzy to say the least.
2) The least expensive Radian is more than $200. The one everyone seems to say is the narrowest is $300!!! And we have to buy two of 'em!! Maybe three of 'em!! (See point number 3).
3) To make this work, we may have to put Curve Ball in a convertible seat from birth, so we can fit three across. Is this even safe? I am so used to seeing my babies all snug in their plush infant carrier seats, I cringe at the thought of a tiny baby in a big ole tall, industrial-looking convertible seat.
4) Also, we were not planning on buying a stroller for a while; instead we intend to just use the Snap 'n Go. That means we need to have an infant carrier to snap in it! You cannot snap a convertible car seat in a Snap 'n Go, people! So if we do end up having to buy Curve Ball a convertible seat, that also means having to buy a darn stroller! Mo money, mo money, MO MONEY!
5) Even with all this rumination, I still am not 100-percent positive that any of these scenarios will work to fit three seats in her specific car, because you really have to physically try them out to make sure. Which means ordering a bunch of million-dollar seats to test them. And then what happens if they don't work? Can you send them back? URGH!
6) All this needs to be figured out really really soon, as we will need the infant car seat currently in Michelle's car to bring Curve Ball home from the hospital, leaving her with only one car seat for the boys. And as previous posts have discussed, CB's arrival could be sooner rather than later. We just don't know.

As I said: me = head spinning!!!

I am going to post all the pertinent dimensions here for any blogfriends who are scientifically (ahem, LauraC!) or mathematically (ahem E. Wiley!) inclined, to see if any of you have ideas. Or anyone else for that matter. I'll take any and all solutions. I am starting to have nightmares about car seats!

Here goes:

Michelle's backseat = 47 inches across total
Each bucket-y type seat is 18 inches wide. The mid section is 11 inches.

Both the Sunshine Kids Radian 80SL (less expensive, but still not cheap) and the Sunshine Kids XTSL (mega-expensive) appear to have these dimensions: 16 x 17 x 28.5
(We're front-facing them now, even though they're not quite 2.)

Our Graco 35 infant car seat has dimensions of: 15.6 x 18.7 x 30.7 (Keep in mind this is rear-facing, FYI.)
The base of the Graco 35 has dimensions of : 17.13 x 9.45 x 23.46

I'm imagining putting the two convertible seats on either side of the Graco, with the Graco in the middle, as the middle is the safest part, no? But I'm not opposed to positioning them some other way, if that way works better.

Any advice???

Thanks.

Signed,

Considering strapping one kid to the roof if I have to
Baltimore, Md.

32 week check-up for Curve Ball

I had a marathon morning.

First stop, a growth scan (ultrasound) at the perinatologist. Then, fetal monitoring, also at the perinatal center. Then, an OB appointment.

I'm sleepy from all that doctoring!

Here's the long and short of my visits:

Curve Ball is still big -- plenty big. She's looking on the ultrasound to be about 4 lbs. 13 oz., which is insane. At this point, most babies are somewhere around 3 lbs. 8 oz., which is about what she was last visit. Four weeks ago.

(And that is already bigger than either Cary or Dean were at birth!)

I keep getting visions in my head of the Stay Puft marshmallow man growing in my uterus. Oy.

The good news is, somehow, the doctors said that her rate of growth appears to have slowed a tad, and her abdomen (although still large) isn't AS large as it was, proportionately speaking.

So, the insulin is working! Now I just have to keep it up, so that her growth slows even more. Let's hope I'm able to pull that off.

Fetal monitoring was uneventful. I started a new book and dozed a little bit while it was going on.

And the OB and I had a good discussion about possible scenarios around delivery of this baby, since she is a chubster.

Although the doctor used words like "avoiding an obstetric catastrophe," which still are bouncing around in my head, actually she didn't stress me out or make me worried. I think that's the sign of a good doctor.

The bottom bottom line is that we'll know more about how Curve Ball is likely to be delivered around 36 weeks. But it's pretty unlikely they'll let me go into labor naturally. It's looking like either an induction, or a C-section. And possibly between 37 and 39 weeks.

How curious is it that I delivered TWO babies vaginally, but will probably have to deliver this ONE baby by C-section?

This is yet another thing to file under the "You Just Never Know What Life Has in Store for You" file.

That file in my house, by the way, is overflowing.

Benefits of a big boy room

I had a hard time sleeping last night (I think because I watched "Inside Job" before going to bed and was internally seething the whole night through), so I was in a total coma this morning when the boys woke up at 6:20. I didn't hear them at all!

I did hear Lester get out of the bed and leave the room, I assumed to head to the bathroom, but when he came back in, he got back in the bed, but left the light on in the boys' room.

"Hey. Why's the light on in the boys' room?" I asked, assuming it was 3 a.m. and he had just lost his mind.

"Because they're awake. It's 6:20," he said.

I was totally confused. How is it possibly 6:20? I JUST fell asleep. Also, how are the boys awake? It's completely quiet in their room. Where is the screaming?

"What are they doing?" I asked. "You just left them in their cribs?"

"No," Lester said, pulling the covers up over his head. "They're playing on the floor."

Whuh? My two high-maintenance boys? Playing? In their room? Without me? Without screaming?

This, I had to see.

So I dragged myself out of bed and peeked in their room.

This is what I found:


Adorable babies, in footie pajamas, with their Loveys on their heads (I told you they do that all the time and I have no idea why), playing BY THEMSELVES, in their new big boy room, with their trucks and cute wooden trains my friend Stacey gave them for Christmas!

Let me reiterate:

6:20 a.m.

Boys playing (not screaming).

BY THEMSELVES.

IN THEIR OWN ROOM (NOT OURS!)

Lester, back in the bed!

Me. Amazed.



So far, the big boy room is a hit. And not just with Cary and Dean. With Mommy and Daddy, too!

Back in the saddle, but my horse is moving slowwwwwly

Happy New Year!!

I'm back at work with a ton to do, of course, but I wanted to get back in the saddle with a lot of things, including testing my sugars more regularly and blogging!

So this'll be short-ish.

I had two weeks off from work, with my family, and it was AWESOME. I spent a lot of time with the babies, and I swear I witnessed them developing right before my eyes. Their language skills are exploding; sometimes they string together three or four related words, helping Lester and me to know much better what they're thinking or wanting. This is lovely, let me tell you.

They're still amazingly whiny and tantrum-y, but at least there are way more moments where I can say, "Oh, you want to hear 'Hot Cross Buns?' OK. Let me play that for you!" or something along those lines. And everyone is happy when communication is clear!

The boys got wooden musical instruments from my sister for Christmas, and it only took Dean two days to figure out how to work the harmonica (which, parents of babies will know is a big thing, because they don't usually get "blowing" until later on, I'm told).

Here he is, making a little tune (and tapping his feet, which you can't see). He was so proud of himself!



My little musical prodigy!

Lester and I began our talks about what to expect in 2012 with a third child/newborn in the house, which is good. But we haven't had our talk about our more general 2012 goals and dreams (other than financial), so we are planning to do that this week.

I'll let you know how that goes.

Meanwhile, we made a plan to go to a birthday party this coming Saturday for a friend's 2-year-old, and then I'll take the boys afterward and go to my Mom's for an overnight visit, giving Lester time to paint Curve Ball's room! Yay! Progress!

I picked a color for her room called "Aloe Vera," which is less minty than I had imagined in my mind at first, with a bit more yellow in it. And now I'm nervous that this will look puke-y or Mountain Dew-ish on the walls. Which is NOT what I was going for. So keep your fingers crossed for me that it is a pretty shade, and perfect for my little sweetie.

Speaking of my sweetie, I am 32 weeks today and I go back on Thursday for another ultrasound to see if she's slowed up her growth at all, thanks to the insulin. I really hope so, but it's unfortunate this insulin business came about smack dab in the middle of sweet potato pie season! (Yes, Mommy splurged a little...) I honestly think she's growing like a weed, if her powerful punches are any indication. Good grief, this girl is strong. And wild! Ugh!

I also start fetal monitoring twice a week, beginning on Thursday. How I will get all my work done at work while running back and forth to the perinatal center, I don't know. But I can't worry about that.

It's 2012 -- the Year of Curve Ball. I'm worrying about her (and the other Davises) and honestly, not much else.

Curve Ball, has a name by the way, but I won't be sharing until she's born. Some of my family members know, and there have been ...how shall I say?....mixed reactions. Which is why I don't usually share in the first place. So I've decided to stop sharing until her name is what her name is, and it's plain rude to criticize then.

Besides, there have to be some surprises in this world, no? With a blog where I share just about everything, this is one thing that I can keep you all guessing about!

(Hey, I gotta find my fun where I can, folks.)