More poop

This afternoon we had our first major poop accident with Nico. I had been napping on the sofa with Olivia for about an hour while Frank was watching Nico after getting him up from his nap. Around 4:00 I was feeding Olivia and playing with Nico when he held out his hand for me to take something. He has been handing me boogies every now and then when he has one, which is fine, not too gross. So I figured that's what he was doing, when I looked and saw he had something green on his finger. And on his hand. And on his shorts and also on his socks. And the carpet. Eesh... not a boogie for sure. Poor little guy had major poops. Everywhere.

I called for back-up. Frank and I got Nico cleaned up, all the while wondering how that much poop could come out of such a little guy and get all over the place so fast. We went through three receiving blankets, another light blanket, and about a dozen wipeys. It hadn't been in the diaper long, because we would surely have smelled it. No wonder Nico hadn't been eating all day. The new baby has been a big adjustment for him. He's so good around her, always waving, saying hi, and being gentle with her. But I think it's all finally setting in that she's here to stay, this little stranger who cries and takes up his space in Mom's arms. I'm willing to do whatever it takes to help him get through it. I can imagine what he must be thinking, and he doesn't have the words to express any of it. It makes me realize how much I love him, because in a way I can feel what he's feeling.

When Frank put him to bed tonight, he felt a little warm on the forehead. We put him in some comfy pajamas, and hopefully he'll sleep well tonight. Even thought he must feel pretty gross, he still shouted "Goal!" at the tv. Now that's love.

The poop heard round the world

One day Olivia will hate me for writing this, but baby poop is one of the things I talk about so I'll apologize to her in advance... sorry Livi.

You have to hear this kid poop! Notice I didn't say you have to see her poop. The poo itself is garden variety. The noise that accompanies it, however, is comically loud. She's easing up a little. Some poops happen without any fanfare now, but most of them are announced by a sonic boom of a baby toot. My sister nicknamed her Lazerbutt. *Pyew-pyew*

Changing a girl diapey is weird to top it all off. With a boy you can wipe up, down, around and in a cris-cross if you want, and it doesn't matter. But with a baby girl you have to pay attention... front to back... don't get the poopies anywhere... very careful. I'm looking forward to the time when there's like one or two a day. Oh, and exciting news of the day is this... the cord stump finally fell off. My least favorite part of new baby anatomy. Just have to let it air out a little, and maybe tomorrow or the next day she can have her first tub bath. And I have just the cutest pink towel from Aunt Liz... hehe.

Mi bolsa

The bag has arrived. My diaper bag. Woo hoo! It's awesome. It's the best diaper bag I've ever seen. Super cute. It even came with three different straps so I can wear it as a hobo bag, a shoulder bag, or stroller bag (silly me, I almost ordered stroller clips but Petunia sent me a set... how did she know?).

Ok so today I went for a follow-up for my belly infection and everything is looking just fine. Rather than seeping out through the incision (um, yuck), the fluid chose to let my body absorb it and I am pretty happy with that. I was dreading having anything ooze out the place I worked so hard to seal up tight. I'm on antibiotics for another five days just to make sure nothing flares up again. I shouldn't have to see the doctors again until my six week check-up.

The biggest thank you ever

Today my mom went home after being here with us for two weeks. She came over around 6:30 the morning Olivia was born. I called to say I was pretty sure I was in labor, and she got dressed and headed to our house. I know my sister will vouch for me when I tell you we have an uncommonly fantastically amazing mother. For days I've been fighting back tears, or wiping tears off my cheeks, when I've thought about my mom having to go back to work tomorrow. She has been the biggest help getting us settled with Olivia, and especially taking care of Nico. It has meant the world to me to have her here, and to be able to share these special days and all the craziness and silliness that comes along with such a big event.

Thank you Mom, you really made everything so much easier and I'll always be happy we got to share such a wonderful time together. I love you!

The festivities have begun

Tonight it was just us Riveras here for dinner. Our first meal as a family. Frank made pollo seco, chicken with rice, veggies, Peruvian spices and olives. Beans, rice on the side, and radish salad. Delicious. At least I think it was delicious, I didn't get to finish my bowl of food and the whole thing is kind of a blur.

Nico spent half the meal with his finger up his nose. Olivia cried every five minutes and wouldn't sit happily in the baby swing *curses!* long enough for me to catch my breath. Frank stopped feeding Nico to pick up Olivia so I could have some dinner, Nico instantly became super jealous, and screamed and cried until Frank gave me the baby and went back to dishing out his chicken and carrots. In the end, I wound up feeding Nico some apple cake for dessert while Olivia and Frank were lying on the sofa. I cleaned the food off my son, pulled his chair away from the table, and held his hands so he could jump down onto the floor. So that takes care of how to get Nico out of the high chair when I'm here alone... now I just have to devise a plan for getting him into it without popping a stitch. Piece of cake.

Right now it's ten o'clock at night. The babies are sleeping, Frank is playing with his iPod mixer and I'm about to take a nap. I wonder what the next few weeks will be like. If this was just one dinner, where I didn't get to sit still long enough to blink, then it seems like things will be anything but boring. I've started changing Nico's diapers again in an attempt to get back into the flow a little better. He's such a good baby, and so damn cute it hurts. Tonight we turned on one of the soccer channels. A picture of the Barcelona team flashed up on the screen. Nico threw his hands in the air and, shaking his head back and forth, shouted, "Gooooal!" That's my boy!

As expected

Blogging has taken a back seat to all the baby activity. It's not that I don't want to write, or have anything to write about. It's just that the computer is way down at the end of the list of things I have on my mind. At the times when I'd normally be writing, I'm now either feeding the baby or trying to catch up on a little sleep. Frank finally got the cradle swing and the Baby Bjorn out of the attic, and hopefully they will help me manage my time better so I can pay attention to Nico and still have Olivia rocking or being held close to me but still have my hands free. I love the Bjorn. It's been a while since I used it with Nico, but I'm hoping I'll be able to feed the baby while she's in it. That would be awesome.

Mom goes home on Sunday, and Frank will be working from home next week. After that, I will be on my own and that's a little scary. Not that it can't be done. I know it's going to be fine. It's just a little overwhelming to think about. Maybe it's best not to think, but rather to just appreciate the help while I have it, then take a deep breath and jump in when the time comes.

Not out of the woods yet

I thought I could relax for a while now that the baby is here. But this whole belly infection thing has me a little on edge. Believing it was just irritation from the staples, I didn't even think to mention it to my doctors, say, Wednesday or Thursday of last week. So whatever's happening in there got to brew over the weekend and now I can see and feel that something is definitely up. The incision is fine, but about an inch above it there is a puffy red area that stretches across the lower part of my belly. Even though I started taking antibiotics yesterday I still feel like something is not quite right. Well, because it isn't. That's fairly obvious.

Usually I am pretty well in touch with my body, so I am slightly embarrassed about not noticing what was happening south of the equator. I also didn't notice my left breast was getting red on one side. How did I miss that one? I walk around here half nudie all day long, and I'm looking down there at least once every three hours. Even when I got a fever, I chalked it up to a hormone surge, because I have generally been doing great recovering. Ah, well... what are you gonna do? It's not as though I can do much more than wait for the meds to really get in there and knock out those nasties setting up camp in my belly. I'm getting impatient though. I just want to be all better, and fast.

The house is so quiet right now. Mom took Nico to the playground. Olivia just ate and she is taking a nap. I'm having the last piece of apple pie, which I'll wash down with some soy milk, and then I'll take a short nap while I have the chance. When I wake up, I'll be fighting the urge to do things around the house so that I can heal. It's not easy. But I'll do it.

Chunky monkey

Today was Livi's one week doctor check-up. She is doing really well. She was born at 8 pounds 3 ounces, and she left the hospital at 7 pounds 13 ounces. Today she weighed in at 8 pounds 14 ounces. Go Olivia, you chunky monkey, you! She gained so much that we don't have to go back for the two week appointment/weight check, although I can bring her in for a weight check if I want. I'm so proud. First, because she is such a good eater. Second, I am proud of my own body for doing such a good job making milk. Yes, I'm impressed with myself. :D

Last night I was running a 100.4 fever, and this morning I woke up with a 102.4 hotness that felt like I was burning up. I went to get my staples out today and it turns out I have an infection developing right behind and above my incision. The incision itself is fine, but the tissue around it is very tender and swollen. And just for extra amusement, I also have a breast infection. Woo hoo! I've been supplied with antibiotics and things should be back to normal soon. I already feel better. Phew. I had no idea there was such monkey business going on with my own body!

To: Me, From: Me

I'm a firm believer in the practice of giving gifts to oneself. It is a healthy and necessary habit I'll never outgrow. Every once in a while you find yourself doing something significant or going through important events in your life, and you want to commemorate that with a special little something just for yourself, from yourself. Something you'll look at every day that speaks to you the words, "Go, me!"

I've been eyeing up a Petunia Pickle Bottom diaper bag for months and months. Don't let the name fool you. Petunias are pretty high-end -- they're certainly not cheap. The one I wanted was from the Cake collection, a super cute satchel... the Raspberry Cream Society Satchel to be precise. I had it all picked out for myself. Then I saw a photo of Salma Hayek toting the Midnight Blackberry bag from the same line and I raised my hand and said, "Honorary Latina, here. Must have the Salma bag!" Then my husband said he was going to get me a push present, a little something to celebrate the baby's arrival (though mine would more appropriately be called a pull present since Olivia wasn't so much pushed as she was yanked out by the head). Perfect, I thought.

After searching online, I found a store that carries all the current Petunia styles. They had my bag in stock. Sweet. Then I looked at the price. $325. What?! Yes. For a diaper bag. A bag you put diapers in. A bag you carry extra baby outfits in. A big bag that holds smaller bags of Cheerios, and juice boxes and cheese sticks. I shit you not, $325. I'm all for rewarding myself with a fine gift, but this was ridiculous. Never in a million years, even if I had a million dollars, would I feel justified in spending that much on something I'd be stuffing with wet bathing suits and poopy diapers. Maybe that's lame of me. I don't know. But suddenly I didn't really want that bag so much.

I scrolled through the website's impressive collection of this season's Petunias and picked out a cute, cute, cuter than the satchel diapey bag and it was less than half the price. It's the Misty Shanghai Touring Tote, and I already love it more than the Cake bag. It's more my size and way more my style. I ordered it without hesitation, and when it arrives it'll say something very special to me... something like "To: Me, From: Me. You sure know how to grow a beautiful baby. Way to go, me. I rule. Good luck. I love you."

Toilet paper and leakage

There comes a time when everyone has to go to the store and spend money on things for their home. It can be a fun trip if you need things like shampoo and moisturizer, or not so entertaining if you need paper towels and toilet paper. Today was one of my t.p. days.

Mom took Nico out to BJ's to do some necessary shopping for my house. I'm totally entertained by the bulk shopping method of stocking up on all things homey. Baby wipes by the gross, a 36-pack of Cottonelle, 300+ ounces of Dreft... the sheer volume of product makes it money well spent. With so many paper towels handy, I can't even imagine the next time I'll have to worry about spills.

One thing I'm not sure if they have at BJ's, the one thing I really could use by the case now, is nursing pads. You know, those little absorbent doo-dads you stuff into your bra to suck up the boobie leaks. I need me some of those. Real bad! First let me say that I'm not exactly dressing to impress at the moment. Frank nicknamed me The Savage because I basically walk around here naked all day. It's not because I'm lazy or don't want to look good. It's just totally inconvenient to put anything on, not to mention uncomfortable. I'm getting by with just the meshy boy shorts from the hospital (with maternity length pads of course) and a light robe. And bras? Forget about it. I'm still sore from getting nursing going, and now when the baby cries I leak all over the place. In the next week and a half as the post-op pain gets better and I can move around easier, I'll pull it together. Until then, I remain The Savage.

My visitor

Liz... thank you so much for spending today here with me, Mom, Olivia and Nico. I just happened to be looking out the sliding doors when you were pulling into the parking lot, and I felt like a little kid when I turned around to Mom and asked if it was you. I started crying as soon as I saw you out there. That was the best, nicest, most wonderful surprise visit ever. I love you mucho!

Lucky 13

Welcome to the world, baby Olivia!

I'm now the proud mama of two little chickadees. What a crazy, wonderful, amazing thing. On Sunday I woke up at 4am with contractions, and by 7am we were out the door and zooming to the hospital. By 8am I was dilated 5 cm, fully effaced with bloody show and pain a-plenty. Cross "experience at least part of the pain of vaginal childbirth" off my List of Things to Do in Life. My hat is off to all you ladies who have gone all the way through it, because that was the worst pain I've ever felt. Ever. By 8:30am I was in the OR getting numbed. Olivia Rose was born at 8:58am, officially making me the happiest person on the planet.

She looks just like Nico did when he was born. Only with more hair. Livi is already making herself right at home. She seems so comfortable just hanging out in the living room, eating, sleeping and pooping. Like Nico, she's not much of a swaddle baby so she sits in the newborn lounger with a blanket draped over her legs, looking around, making baby noises, and being just plain cute. She has thick black hair, and it's sooo soft. Right now Mom and the kids are sleeping. I haven't slept much since we got home yesterday but I don't expect to sleep so that's fine. It's still tough to get comfortable, but that'll come in time.

I just wanna say thank you so much to everyone for all the congrats and gifts. And Liz, I did get your message and I will call you today. I'm such a nerd, I started crying when I opened the box of goodies you sent :D Thank you, beautiful sister. I'm slowly getting into the groove here and just taking it all in. I was so excited to see Nico yesterday, and when I hugged him (in his 'I'm the Big Brother' shirt Mom gave him) he seemed so big. Ok I'm kind of rambling on... hehe... there's not much organization happening with me right now. And I just had deja vu about writing this post. Perhaps due to lack of sleep, or perhaps it's my painkiller cocktail. Either way I'm off to doze on the sofa. Love to all from the (now complete) Rivera family!

A little unsure

Aside from general discomfort, things have been pretty good. But I have to tell you, I'm starting to get a little nervous about everything that's about to happen. There's no 'undo' button for this one. There's no getting around it. There's no way to know exactly how events will unfold, despite months of careful planning. Therein lie the blessing and the curse.

Knowing what to expect in the coming weeks gives me a lot of comfort. Knowing what's going to be happening to my body, inside and out... I would be lying if I said I am not scared. I remember those minutes right before the big event in the operating room. Thinking about how I could have ended up there, waiting for the anesthesiologist, being told what to do while he's administering the shots, lying back down on the table not quite sure if I could feel my legs. When asked, "Can you feel this?" I responded, "I don't know." To which the doctor replied, "Well you might want to decide." I asked the anesthesia nurse what he was doing, and she said he was pinching me on the side with big surgical pliers. I quickly realized I couldn't feel it, and was able to relax a little. Whew!

Small news, I'm bigger

Not much to report from today's doctor appointment. I gained three pounds since last week, so that makes me 153. The 'When to Call' sheet says to let the doctors know when you're having contractions lasting a minute, every five minutes, for at least one hour. Or something like that. So you're doing some of the laboring at home, basically. I'm supposed to call if I get four real contractions in an hour. So if they are every fifteen minutes, I'm on my way.

The first two hours after the appointment were rough. Since the baby is moving and pushing around in there, on top of being squeezed, it hurts. Especially when I'm sitting. Lying on my side helps take some of the pressure off, so I'm doing that as much as possible... which isn't much because who can lie down and take care of a one year old? I did get a nap in this afternoon and things down below have been quiet ever since. It actually feels good. I can stand up easily, walk better, and sit more comfortably.

I'm sitting here thinking about how it's Friday night and we're here at home waiting for the baby. We're admiring the new Speed Racer cars Frank bought himself today (he's assistant directing "The New Speed Racer" for Nickelodeon). And the non-Speed related clunky yellow and black robot with the peek-a-boo head. Frank is surfing the Spanish news online, and I'm making fun of the Peruvian national soccer team (they suck big huevos). Soon I'll be digging into the bags of Peanut Chews and mini Reese's cups that are waiting, unsuspectingly, in the kitchen. Yum yum. If there's any baby news I'll be texting people, but if not I'll just be here gaining weight... and waiting.

Still waitin'

I had been thinking April 10th would be the day. Now I'm not so sure.

Last night I still thought something was bound to happen. And Jen even said now that the list is done and I can get that one good night of sleep, that the baby will know it and decide to make some real waves. When I went to bed, my belly was tightening up every 15 minutes or so. I woke up several times. Then I couldn't sleep. Then Nico couldn't sleep, but I let Frank go in and take care of him. Then Frank couldn't sleep. I was just lying there falling half asleep, on and off, for a few hours when I noticed nothing was really happening with the belly. She was sleeping. No more contractions. Boooo.

I've been getting marshmallow feet the past few days when I'm on my feet too long. It goes away pretty quickly when I sit down and put them up, but it feels really weird. I once saw this documentary with Goldie Hawn following and studying a herd of elephants, and one of the things I always remember is her talking about how elephants can actually sneak up on you. Their feet are like giant marshmallows. It made me totally fall in love with elephants, I thought that was so cute. I was just googling Ganesh to see if he has elephant feet, but in the drawings he either has human feet or they're covered by his outfit. I suppose that doesn't matter, since having Ganesh sneak up on you wouldn't be such a bad thing even if you could kind of hear him coming.

So... yeah, this is kind of weird... I can sit on the sofa and have one leg up and one leg down. The leg that's down with the foot on the floor will get a little swollen and that foot will get puffy, while the elevated foot stays normal. This is week 38's stupid human trick. I would try to get on late night tv with it, but I haven't been shaving my legs and don't plan to do so for another couple of weeks, and really, who wants to see that?

High traffic areas

It's official. My list is complete. The baby can feel free to arrive any time now.

*side note* *Why do the landscapers have to run their leaf/grass blowers at the exact time I have a kid trying to take a nap? Come on, Javier, take it to another building until 3:00, will you por favor? Seriously, these guys love to milk the blower action for like two hours every week.*

Last night I finished up Nico's general schedule and menu, and I just have to print it out and put it on the fridge. Today I vacuumed, then broke out the Bissel and cleaned the carpets. Mom (now to be known as Super Mom for all the help she has been so graciously providing with EVERYthing) made a Wegman's trip yesterday. Actually she made two trips, the second to go back and find like two things she didn't have time to get at lunch. Awesome? Yes.

It smells so clean in here, I could just about faint over it. I feel like this big chore allowed me to clean out more than just the dust and junk that has been lurking beneath the surface of the carpet. It's a huge breath of fresh air (literally) to feel like whatever old energy was lying down there, whatever shallow breath of doubt that we're ready to bring home our newest family member, is gone. Shampooed, rinsed, sucked up, and dumped out to sea (fear not, I bought the most eco-friendly carpet formula available).

Now I'm just waiting for it to dry, and I'm going to have some peanut butter toast and hop a shower before Nico wakes up. Cleaning makes everything else smell good, but it makes me a little bit stinky.

Bolt that shite down

I'm such a fan of using the electric drill. It takes me a while to get up the motivation to bust it out sometimes, but once I get going I actually start searching for things that need to be screwed in, tightened up, or otherwise secured.

Tonight I finally bolted Nico's dresser to the wall. Earlier today he was shaking one of the drawers and I saw a little wobble happening and I thought ok if that's not a sign, I don't know what is. He's climbing on everything now, and I can just see him getting a foot into the drawer and up he goes. He gets onto the sofa, the bench at the dining room table (and then up on top of the table), and when the dishwasher is open he likes to stand on the door. Monkey.

There's something really satisfying about doing home repairs and maintenance. Every once in a while I'll go through the house and tighten the screws on all the door knobs. Then I grab the WD-40 and grease all the hinges. But drilling stuff is cool. Just come over and try to budge Nico's furniture. I'm very proud of my securing skills. The drill rules.

Of all the things I could be doing...

I decided to make a baby registry. There's living room dusting to be done, vacuuming that's being neglected... but so what, all I want to do is look at baby stuff!

I got to thinking that the first kid has it pretty good as far as baby stuff goes. Nico got a whole lotta everything. When the second baby is the opposite gender you can still use the general baby gear like the swing and bassinet, the Papasan and the Baby Bjorn, but that's about it. The second time around, you have a much better idea of what you really need for a new baby. You know what you would use once or twice, and you know what you'll need every day.

So yes, the registry. I don't care if you're really not supposed to make a registry for the second baby. The thing is, people usually get something for the baby anyway, and I thought it would be nice if you could at least see the colors I picked out for Olivia. We have all the clothes she needs; it's the rest of the stuff that needs some pinking up. The bedroom, the blankets, the bath stuff... the things that say there's a little girl in the house. Sure, we're getting some bigger things like a second glider and ottoman, but the little things make just as much of a difference.

Don't get me wrong, I'm not requesting gifts by any means. If you want to see, my little list of ideas is on babiesrus.com. One thing about me making this list... I am now very, very comfortable with all things pink. So bring it on!

Name game

I emailed my sister yesterday when I realized we're going to have some pretty darn similar names going on in the family. At first it doesn't seem too complicated. There's Rosemarie, Elizabeth, Karen, Katherine, and Olivia. But it's not like I go around saying, "Oh Elizabeth, it's nice to see you." Or, "Katherine, please pass the butter." No. People call us Roe, Liz, Kar, Kae and (soon) Livi or Liv.

Roe is going to call her daughter and granddaughter Liz and Liv. And she'll call her other daughter and granddaughter Kar and Kae. Roe could also call the baby Livi Rose. And the other "baby" could also be Kaeleigh. Somewhere, sometime, I'm sure I'll be called Kae and Liz will get called Livi. Or we'll all be in the kitchen together and Mom will say something like, "Kar -- er, Kae -- Llll... whatever your name is!" Even Franny can't totally escape the name game even though he's the only son, because we've also got a Frank; Fran's dad is also Fran.

When you start to bring Frank's family into the picture, things get wackier. His mom's name is Rosa. Rosa has a total of seven kids, but with Frank's dad she had Frank and one daughter, Carina. So Roe has Francis and Karen, and Rosa has Francisco and Carina. Rosa also has a daughter names Sisi, and when I was little I always called my sister Sissy. My grandmother's name was Rosemarie too, but was always known as Mus. Still, it's like a rosebud convention (and Rosebud is our cousin Katherine Rose's nickname, as well as part of my mom's email address). Additionally, my other two sisters are named Lynn and Kathy, although my dad is the only one who had anything to do with that. His name was George, which is also the name of the name of Carina's husband. They call him Coco, though, but he and Carina have a son Patricio and that's pretty darn close to Patrick who is my mom's brother and Rosebud's dad. Uncle Pat also has a son named Patrick.

So there you go. I re-read this post a few times and I am still only partially sure I got it all right. I have to go clear my head by eating some cookie dough.

Two days in one

This was a long day. Went to the doctor's office this morning, so now there's just one appointment left next week. Still weigh 150 pounds, and the doctor did a little internal exam since I've had a few real contractions in the past two days. Nothing much is happening though, and she said things were where they should be at this point.
Outside, Mom and I were parked next to each other and I looked into her car and saw the car seat in the back and thought wow, that looks like the car seat I put in Mom's car last night, how funny. Took me a minute to realize that was because I was looking into Mom's car.

After the appointment I got brave and decided Nico and I were going to Target. I found some hair products and got a few other things like a lightweight bath robe, a couple of lace-trimmed tank tops to complement my soon-to-be-bigger breasts, and sock monkey slippers. All the colors coordinate, but I feel like I've cast myself in the part of the sexy, yet goofy, housewife.

I was enjoying being out, not thinking all the while Nico was plotting the perfect way to at once embarrass, frustrate, and grate on the nerves of Mommy. He's been doing a high pitched scream around the house for about a week or so, and today he decided to take his act on the road. At home I ignore him so as not to encourage it. I say "oh wow" and make it seem like ok, so what, nice scream there buddy. At the store I gently shooshed him, and since that didn't seem to help I figured I might as well just let him run with it. He did it on and off for about a half hour, loud enough for the entire store to hear it every single time. Then another kid in on the other side of the store started screaming too, and I broke up laughing. I made a happy face and whispered to Nico, "Ok now will you stop that shit please?" and then I let him out of the cart to play in the shampoo aisle (I put all the bottles back when he was done. Poor kid needed to walk around for a few minutes).

By the time we left the store I was so tired I decided to get Chick-Fil-A for lunch. On the way up to our front door, Nico started drinking my fruit punch because I had to juggle him and the cup in such a way that the straw wound up right in front of his face. Turns out he likes fruit punch, he sucked down a good quarter of what was in the cup. We ate, then we napped, then we had dinner, he got a bath, had snack and went to bed. I did laundry, cleaned up the house, had snack, and now I'm winding down. I'm pretty out of it. I've got a tired headache. This day was so long. Not in a bad way... I guess since we were out yesterday to visit Mom at her office, and Nico didn't take a nap and was up until 9pm, and then we were on the go early today it just seems long because I'm worn out. It did feel so good to be out and about, though. So... I'll probably eat something then go to bed. Frank will be back home tomorrow morning and I've been offered a "grow the belly day", which means he's going to pick up some of the slack around the house so I can relax for a while. It will be nice to catch my breath and try out my new hair products. :)

Scratching my Noggin over this one

Noggin is probably the channel we watch most here, at least during the day. They have cute little shorts between shows. Since it's commercial-free, they have all these animations and station bumps that fill up the last six or seven minutes of every half hour.

Recently they started running a new set of live action Noggin shorts that speculate what life would be like if adulthood were more like pre-school. They have adults sleeping in their cubicles for nap time while the mail room guy tries to find someone to sign for a package. They have conference room meetings where the boss complements his employee on the pretty stars she put on her kindergarten-looking presentation.

Then there's one that's set up as a press conference, and a guy gets called to the podium to display his show and tell item. He says, proudly, "I brought my cherry red hot lips phone." He holds up the phone, and it is indeed one of those bright red phones that looks like smoochy lips. A female reporter in the audience raises her hand and asks, "Exactly where did you get that hot lips phone?" and the man sheepishly answers, "Off the record, I got it from my mom."

Am I the only person who thinks that's at least slightly weird? At least weird for something on a kids' channel? Anyway I have promised my son I will never, ever, ever buy him a cherry red hot lips phone. I think he'll appreciate that when it's time for him to bring in something for show and tell.

I love a good list

Seems like the easiest way for me to keep track of things these days is to make lists. It's so helpful since I have such trouble gathering all my thoughts in one place. I'm using Word for my lists. Excel is too clinical, and writing things on paper is too scattered. There's a funny little part of me that demands at least a minimum level of organization now that things are about to change. So here's my current list of lists.

budget.doc: The budget. This has a sister Excel sheet, rudimentary though it may be, that just lists who gets paid every month. So on the left are the payees, and then I make a column each month and that's where I put either 'paid', 'mailed on x/xx' or 'due on x/xx'. Anything that has a fee for late payments also gets entered on the 'bills' layer of iCal so that I can see what day I need to drop it in the mail. The Word doc is a list of all three bank accounts with an item-by-item account of upcoming deductions, along with current/future totals and a grand total. Looking over this paragraph I can see how one might think all this makes no sense or is too much work, but since I developed this little system I feel like I'm on top of things for once.

Shoppin list.doc: Has the run-down of food shopping staples and things we'll need handy for those new baby days... paper plates, plastic cups and flatware, Ziploc freezer bags, etc. I can't think of a less convenient time for a sink full of dishes. And I won't be doing the shopping, so I need to have an easy way for Mom and Frank to know what should end up in the grocery cart. God forbid someone forgets the chocolate chocolate chip muffins from the Wegman's bakery. I would only have myself to blame for not having it on the list.

Hospital Bag.doc: Has my packing progress color coded so if I have to run around gathering things up fast fast fast, I don't even have to think about what's already in there. I'll just know I need to toss in my wallet, phone, make-up bag, brush, hair dryer and the baby nail clippers.

Nico Finn's Menu.doc: Basics of Nico's meals, including what time he usually eats what and when he gets his milk, juice, and water. Also lists when Nico is used to getting a fresh diaper, in case there's any doubt in Frank's mind that yes, Nico really should use six diapers a day.

There, now I feel organized. A list of my lists. I may have gone too far.

Nursing tanks and other gear

Last spring when I cleaned out all the clothes I could no longer wear, I foolishly put my two nursing tank tops into the Goodwill bag. As I am deciding which shirts to put in my hospital bag, I can see that was not the best move. Of course I never expected to need them again so soon. I thought enough time would pass that I'd need to buy new ones anyway. Alas, this is not the case and now *a-boo-woo-woo* I have to buy new ones.

I've got a real bee in my bonnet about spending money lately. We're on a budget, and I happily go without a lot of things. Frank, however, ignores many of my requests for being thrifty. Damn you, iTunes, for having that new Gnarls Barkley album. Damn you, O.M.G. in New York for having eye-catching dark denim on sale in Frank's size. Daaaamn you, PNC Bank, for replacing his lost ATM card in less than the quoted ten days. His philosophy is "I make the money and I deserve to spend it whenever I want." Ok, I can see his point. But I'm the one who has to make this end meet that end every month. And I'm also the one who endures his bitching when he wonders aloud why there's no "extra" money, and I tell him it's because he spent it all. A-duh.

Sometimes I feel real guilt buying things for myself but considering I'm the mama and I actually need some gear for the impending mama time, here is part of today's to-do list:

Buy $36 apiece nursing tank tops online. *Update* I see Victoria's Secret has nursing bras... hmm... I think I'm changing my mind about the tanks.
Buy pink receiving blankets online. Use coupon.
Search for stylin' new diaper bag. Sadly, Petunia Pickle Bottom's Cake collection can't be purchased directly online so it'll probably be a brief search. That's the only diaper bag I want.

In all fairness, it was Frank's idea that I should get a new wardrobe once I feel like I can go clothes shopping again. He even brought me some fashion magazines so I can get ideas for cool things to get. I can't tell you how nice it's going to be to kiss the stretch panels goodbye forever. The stretch marks, however... they're a different story.

What the heck is going on!

Today I woke up with a weird feeling that today was going to be the day.

Here's a little run-down of the past couple of nights. First I wake up with heartburn so bad I swear I'm going to burp fire. I chew three Tums. Then I wake up tasting heartburny stomach acids and try to do that weird thing where you feel like you're going to throw up but try your best to keep it down. I chew two Tums and sip some water, and lie back down using my pillows to keep my head and shoulders unnaturally elevated. Around 5am I have to pee real bad. I get out of bed and try to balance on my wobbly Bambi legs, make my way to the bathroom and back, and lie down on whichever side I wasn't previously sleeping because that hip is sore and numb.

So now that it's later in the evening, this is obviously not the day. But I definitely feel different. I've been nauseous. I've had to go potty a lot more. I'm getting more Braxtons. I had the uncontrollable urge to scrub the bath tub even though I can barely move. My fingers and toes feel chubbier. I'm planning on having Mom or Frank pick me up some hair spray or styling cream so I can keep my hair looking as nice as possible, just in case. Which reminds me, I need to shower tonight. So off I go!

Advice shopping

Now that I'm tackling the several-times-recommended-by-our-pediatrician "What to Expect the Toddler Years" I get more and more to feeling like child rearing advice is definitely not a 'one size fits all' subject. At nine months, right before Nico started walking, the doctor mentioned this book and said it would be good to get a head start. At 12 months she asked if I'd gotten the book. I said no, and didn't bother to mention that I had put it on my pollyanna list and was waiting to see if I'd get it. Or that I had read "What to Expect When You're Expecting" and "What to Expect the First Year" and wasn't too motivated to start in on another book in the exact same format. At the 15 month check-up, she asked, again, if I had the book and I could tell she was at least a tiny bit agitated when I said no. Again, I went without mentioning some things, like the other resources I was using for toddler and boy related advice and information. Certainly "What to Expect" isn't the only informative and adviceful (I just made up that word, thank you) series in existence.

Semi-reluctantly, I started to read "Toddler Years". Well, not so much read as skip through. I was never the girl who spent her teenage years babysitting neighborhood youngsters, or the girl who knew how to change a diaper. The first time I ever wiped and diapered someone else's butt, it was Kaeleigh's when I was 19 years old. She was the first baby I ever felt close enough with to think, ok, changing this child's diapers is completely appropriate. Even now I wouldn't say that I have extensive experience with children. I have plenty of experience with my own child, yes, but that hardly makes me an expert in the field. Even so, it's not that hard to point out child rearing advice which I consider to be total bullshit.

I tend to ask for advice or stories from people who I feel will be able to, and who genuinely want to, help me. I don't always feel like the baby's doctor has the absolute be all, end all corner on the market of child rearing knowledge. The more books, websites and magazine articles I read, the more I realize that no one person has all the answers. No one point of view is always right. This time last year I was still in my "completely uncertain and scared poopless" phase of motherhood. I was getting unsolicited advice from day care workers on an almost daily basis, and not getting to spend nearly as much time with my son as I wanted. I had a four-month-old and still had only a very small clue about babies. I was busy trying to figure everything out while getting advice from all directions. Then one day it just hit me... I had to start trusting myself. I better start a-swimmin' or I'd drown in doubt.

So here I am, a year down the road, feeling a thousand times better. I'm going to keep reading through this book. I've found some good tips for behavior management and general kid care. I've come across a few things I'd just as soon ignore. I'm not sure what the final useful-to-crap ratio will be, but I can assure you this and all future reading will be taken with a grain of salt. Maybe you're thinking *duh* I could've told you to do that, Karen. But I'm a late bloomer, what else can I say?

How could I forget?

This morning I used two Nico nicknames I forgot to put on last night's entry.

Frank calls him Chiquitín-boom-bean, and I call him Pippy (sometimes just Pip). I think that about covers it.

A boy by any other name...

We have so many nicknames for our son, I'm surprised he answers to Nico at all. I have no idea how or why we go around calling this kid so many different things.

There are a variety of names from the animal kingdom. Most often he's Monkey. Sometimes Monks, or Monkeydoo. We also have Teddy Bear and Cookie Bear and Snuggie Bear. Ever since he was a little baby I've called him Bird. So he's still Bird or Baby Bird, and now that he likes to run through the house naked after his bath he's also Nakie Bird (sung like the Nancy Sinatra song "Lady Bird"). Trying to get him into his pajamas after naked time, he goes from Nakie Bird to Worm.

Next, we have the ethnic category. There's Chiquitín, Chicurrio, Chiquito, Chicoocoo (a take on my nickname Chicookie), Hijo, Papi, Poppo, Papa, Papiloo, 'Pito, Chinin, Chinois, Colorado, Chinito, Mr. Finn and Mr. Chin Chin Chin. When sophistication is required, he's know simply as The Prince.

When he does hear his actual name, it's seldom just Nico. He's Nico-las, Niquín, Niquito, Nicolini, and Nicurrio. When we go to the store or the play gym I usually call him Nico or Poppo. Most of his names are similar enough, or goofy enough, that he knows he's being addressed. If he ignores me I chalk it up to the fact that he's one rather than the fact that I'm calling him Monkey. At least he's not as confused as the little boy in his gym group who stands on the tall mats posing with his hands on his hips shouting, "Hi, I'm Carla!" Not that there's anything wrong with that.