My 20 Week Ultrasound = Wendy of Neverland

We wore the colors that we thought the baby would be. I’m in pink. Boof in blue. In typical Boof fashion, he was right. We are having a BOY!!!!

To be perfectly honest, in the few days leading up to the ultrasound, I had this suspicion. Boy names kept popping into my head as I laid there trying to sleep. The unconscious prayers in my head of, ‘please be a girl,’ felt different, like those fruitless prayers of ‘please ask me to prom,’ knowing that in this universe it was not a reality. And with the confirmation ultrasound, it was this sigh that left me. Friends who knew I was pulling for a girl texted nervously, “are you disappointed?” and “how are you doing?”

Honestly?

I’m amazing.

I can’t explain how relieved I felt in learning that I get the privilege of being the mom to two boys. It feels so cosmically perfect I can’t even explain, like I’m Wendy being dropped into my own little Neverland, and I get to experience this adventure that I didn’t even know I wanted, but I needed in my soul.

Did I mist up when, after the ultrasound tech left the room, I told Boof we would never use our girl name. Yes. It was like this little loss. A balloon let go and into the wind. Watching it float away. But there he was, swimming around in my belly, my son. Potamus’s brother. It’s just so right that I can’t even be sad. Maybe there will be a day I’ll long for that little girl, and that will be okay, too. But for now I’m planning our next adventures…

The face of an excited Big Brother!

Labor Day Weekend Adventures

The epic balloon battle

The parts of Eastern Washington that aren’t still on fire, are filled with smoke, leaving the air quality (according to my mom) “very bad for kids, elderly, and asthmatics like me.” She asked that we change our Labor Day weekend plans to their house to something else, entirely. The conversation went something like this:

“We’d like to pay for a night at the Great Wolf Lodge for all of us.”

“Sounds fun. Crazy, but fun.”

To be fair, it was a little more in-depth, mostly around the discussion that Boof would not feel comfortable with us all sleeping in the same room, but that would work out great because he’d drive the 1.5 hours home to let the dog out, thus eliminating the need to get a dog-sitter for the weekend.

So, four adults and 1 child, set out on the Great Wolf Lodge adventure. And I’m happy we did it, despite the craziness of all the kids running around the lodge on their Shadow Quests and heading to the water park. If you haven’t checked out their whole clever practice, you should. For added packages kids get magic wands and can go on these quests throughout the lodge, unlocking secret things.

The thing Potamus loved the most? The free balloon sword in the lobby on Saturday night. I hate using gendered cliches, but give a boy a balloon sword…wait…give 10 boys balloon swords, and a balloon battle of “hiyas” will ensue. Seriously. We were just sitting there, and like five little boys in footed pajamas approached Potamus to engage in epic battles. It was hilarious. And adorable. And rambunctious. And made me glad I only have 1 kid. I know that’s going to change, but I’m hopeful the age difference will allow me a different sort of crazy than the Irish twins I saw running around.

My adventurous boy loved the water park as much as the balloon battle. Not only did he get adventurous and go down a (smallish) water slide by himself, he was obsessed with the wave pool. Even braving the depths in mama’s arms, to rock in the deep waves. Thankfully I’m 6’1 and could always touch, since it got kinda crazy out there. In grandparent focused moments, Boof and I were able to sneak away to ride the super fast tubular rides. I only managed to get a small concussion falling out of the speed tube slide and cracking my head against the wall, and feeling the shame as I had to slide down unaccompanied by my tube. I’m still nursing a bruise on my noggin, but got back up in the pony saddle the next day as I took my dad on the same ride. He’s a thrill seeker, too.

I couldn’t have asked for a better vacation. Sure it was tiring, but a 1 night stay was the perfect amount of time, and left the rest of the weekend for getting things done around the house. It’s back to work this week. So I’m glad to have had a little mini hurrah before the grind begins again…

Day 1 of the Hostage Situation

July 1st.

I am writing this from my kitchen table. The dog is barking. The kid is sticking his head in a box of sand on the floor. I have afternoon nausea. It’s fucking hot. And I’m regretting this whole “let’s save money and not have me drive 1.5 hours a day to get kid to daycare and back everyday. It’ll be fun,” I said. Besides, now with a new baby on the way, we gotta save money for the crazy expensive daycare. And six months of me not working. But I digress.

School ended for me two weeks ago, but with some work from home, and a meeting to go to, I’ve been shlepping Potamus to daycare four days a week. Which has left me time for myself, even if it’s just a haircut, or lunch with my sister-in-law, and some time to write. I’m in a manuscript writing class, so trying to get my words on paper is best while listening to a podcast, instead of listening to a 3 year old declare “look at me mommy, look at me,” as he climbs onto the windowsill.

But it’s now summer break. Day 1. Normally we have Fridays off together, so I figured this would be fine. We’d sleep in. Dink around. Get groceries. Watch a show. Play some games.

Instead it was watching shows and whining. So much whining. Our easygoing grocery shopping took 1.5 hours thanks to a question about every damn thing I put into the cart. And asking why I didn’t put other things into the cart. Seriously. “But why mommmy?” “Because I don’t need soap.” “But why?” “Because we already have enough soap.” “BUT WHY MOMMY?”

The highlight of the day so far was getting my kid to eat foods he normally doesn’t eat for me. English muffin pizza and cherries. It felt like a dissertation victory, which then makes me feel like a fucking idiot who has already lost her standard for self congratulations. Yay my kid ate 8 cherries. Big fucking deal. Last year I managed to teach a heroin addict.

Oh comparisons. My work self. My mom self. My self who wants to just watch the Kardashians uninterupted.

The pregnancy hormones are insane this go-round, and “keeping it together,” looks like sobbing. And yelling.

Why did I want another baby anyway?

My “saving grace,” is going to exhaust me even more I’m afraid. I signed up to counsel from 8-6 on Thursdays through the first week of September. I’m excited because the money, paired with the money saved from daycare, is going to be about five thousand dollars. Not something to scoff at. But working 10 hours in one day counseling students isn’t exactly a break in the way I like breaks…ya know?

I know I’ll get in the groove. Already this afternoon I’ve enjoyed some time weeding the backyard, and reading some stories while he sits on my lap. I am sad for these moments already as I experience them, for this time next year, there will be two grasping at me for everything.

Super Family

This year’s theme revolved around Potamus’ love of all things super hero related. We had Wonder Mom, Bat Dad, and Spider Kid. Pretty epic. He fell asleep halfway around our neighborhood loop. I had to carry him asleep on my shoulder with his heavy sack of treats dangling from his grubby little fists.

He now keeps saying “chocolate,” and “costume,” and I get the two confused because he can’t quite enunciate well enough yet. At any rate, we had a fun Halloween, and hope you all did too!

Fall Bike Rides

The best part about trolling the thrift stores weekly is coming across a gently used Radio Flyer trike for $14. Potamus is in heaven, and we’ve even bent the ‘no bikes inside’ rule for him. The hardwood floors might get banged up a bit, but it’s really cute to see how much he loves his new mode of transportation. Scooting down the long hallway, sitting in the living room eating a snack and watching his show, I’m happy we found such a good one for him!

And then I look at this picture and see how quickly time goes by. How the days ARE long and the years ARE short and think in just a mere two months he’ll be 3. And my anxious mind spirals into all the what-ifs about trying for another or staying one-and-done, and it doesn’t help that some facebook friends have ‘come out’ as one-and-done parents and I begin to be envious of anyone who can clearly make up their mind about anything parenting related. I love this little boy, and how he still snuggles in to my body, especially when he’s sick. I love that daycare teaches him to be polite, saying ‘okay mommy,’ and ‘thank you mommy,’ because Lord knows if he was in my care 24/7 he’d know how to say ‘this fucking_________’ because I can’t seem to control my potty mouth.

I’m thankful for the calm fall weather, and bike rides around the neighborhood, and that life is good in moments even when it’s hard in others.

Teaching Responsibility

 

You scribble on the wall, you clean it up, kiddo!

Gauging Normal in Parenthood

I invited some friends over for lasagna on Saturday because a) I was craving lasagna, b) I like having an excuse to invite friends over, and c) I like having an excuse to not eat an entire pan of lasagna myself. It was fun, but Boof noticed their little one eating everything on his high chair tray and was like “does he always eat whatever you put in front of him?” and when they answered that yes, he does, it made me suddenly think:

I have a high maintenance kid.

I have no doubt that there are things I could be doing ‘better’ to make my son ‘behave’ more or ‘comply’ more, and I lack the energy and wherewithal to follow through on that type of parenting course. But I also think…maybe…maybe…my kid might be high needs. Not high needs like special needs, but this is a kid who REFUSED for-the-love-of-God any form of milk from a bottle/sippycup/regular cup until he was about 2 (or at daycare). He nurses straight from the tap and he wouldn’t have it any other way. Maybe I’m ‘spoiling’ him with all of this attachment parenting, but I also wonder…maybe my kid is just difficult in his adorably lovable sweet way.

He wants to sleep a particular way, and only eat particular foods when with us (and he’s picky at daycare, though less so), and watch particular shows and basically overall has his mama’s stubborn personality.

But he’s my only kid. So I have nothing to compare it to. And I’m not saying parenting him is easy, or that my friend who’s struggling with her ‘good eater’ on different issues has a better/worse time than me, but it makes me wonder. I focus a lot on my son’s sweetly stubborn personality and think he’s overall an easy kid, but…but…what if he’s not? What if my exhaustion is because he’s actually a very demanding and particularly needy kid who I love dearly, but am exhausted and mystified by most of the time?

Surviving the Holidays with a 2 year old

Good Lord the holidays are rough for little ones. Two days later and I still feel like we’re suffering the aftershocks from an almost week long sleep schedule fuckery celebration. While Potamus has been remarkably flexible with the over abundance of shiny wrapped things and sugary snacks, everyone has a limit. At 6:30 pm on Christmas night he was just DONE. Throwing things around my in-laws’s house, screaming, stomping, and just generally melting into a toddler sized puddle.

Thankfully, I have some quiet memories to savor when I look back on our time. There was the sweet Christmas morning, when, for the first time since Boof and I have been married, we woke up in our own home, and did our own Christmas routine. Boof made chocolate chip pancakes, and I wrapped a few small gifts that I bought for less than $20 at Value Village. It was maybe an hour of sweetness, but those moments are things I’ll treasure. It felt right and good for me to advocate for OUR family, rather than taking everyone else’s schedule into account. Sure he tore through the gifts in aproximately 45 seconds, and the dog had half chewed the toys by 10am, but the sweetness, of snuggling on the couch with our pancakes and seeing the twinkly tree in the corner, was totally worth it.

We’ve all survived. Potamus is still weaned, which feels freaking amazing. We’ve somehow managed to create a sweet little bedtime routine and he’s falling asleep on his own. Sure he still wakes up and comes into our bed to snuggle for the rest of the night, but one thing at a time, right? We have one more holiday party, on Sunday, to gear up for, and I’m hoping that after that things will go back to relative normalcy around here. He’ll be back in school, and with the exception of New Years, there won’t be any real changes to the schedule. I have so much compassion for families with more than 1 little person around, as it’s hard, on the kids, the parents, everyone. It’s both magical and so hard for all involved. I wish somehow there was a way to get off the crazy train and make it like that calm morning pancake memory.

How was your holiday season? Did your kids behave or get totally wound up? How do you deal with all the craziness?

 

Holding Off

I know there’s almost never a ‘right time’ to have a kid. But there are times that are better than others. And now isn’t that time. As I reflect on that negative pregnancy test from a few weeks back, I really feel that I dodged a bullet. Because while I know I would grow to love another child, right now isn’t the right time. What scares me, is will waiting be the right time, either?

If I am being 100% truthful, I only want 1 child. AND I also want a daughter, and a sibling for Potamus. It’s hard to hold those tensions. The more settled in I am lately, the more I realized that some of my angst of dealing with Potamus this summer was the projection and future-focus of the ‘what if’ having a second and how I was sure I wouldn’t be able to to do it. There was the infatuation with babies (certainly hormonal) that I hadn’t exprienced before Potamus was born, and seeing my friends with babies and this thought ‘oh, I want that.’

But do I want that? Or do I want what I once had, when I held this little human I created, who is now growing at such a rapid pace? I don’t know the answers to that, but Boof and I have been in a hard place relationally/emotionally/physically, and as parents. I think independently we do a good job parenting, but together we aren’t where we’d like to be. And I think that my desire to ‘rush to have another’ has been as a desperately perfectionistic attempt to a) bandaid a difficult situation, b) keep up with the joneses, c) give me more ‘ammunition’ when complaining about my identity/work-load balance/etc.

Even admitting all of that on paper is both cathartic and makes me wonder how many people will stop reading because surely I’m the worst woman ever (next to Miley Cyrus, of course 😉 ). It’s hard to admit that I was rushing in to a situation to try and fix an already hard situation, because we all know that’s the dumbest logic ever.

So I decided to make a decision. Instead of continuing to play ‘Russian Baby Roulette,’ by leaving the decision each month up to condoms or chance/fate/God, I am going on birth control. And I’m not going on the pill. I am choosing the IUD without hormones. It’s both an exciting and scary decision to make. Because  I know in my heart it’s the right choice, because it takes some control back on my own body, that feels it’s been subject to every whim and fancy, but it also means a decision has been made. We have decided to not have any more kids. …………….yet.

We will revisit the conversation next year. But even just saying that gets me nervous, because part of holding off means letting go of this ‘dream’ (that I’ve felt very influenced by media/friends/family) of having kids 2ish years apart…3 at most. Because now we’re talking 3.5 years apart at minimum. Probably more like 4.5. And that feels different to me, in providing a ‘sibling relationship’ to Potamus. Feels different adding an infant into a household revolving around schoolish activities. But that’s all getting ahead of myself, because, right now we are done having kids.

I’m looking at it that way because I love having one kid. I really love it. The thought of putting the IUD in has actually let me take exhale, as if I’ve been holding my breath for a really long time. It’s hard to describe, this feeling of contentedness and satisfaction and freedom with a choice. And yet, I’m worried about explaining this decision to others. So many people have opinions and beliefs about waiting for more kids, or what it’d mean to have one kid, but I know what’s right for us. And this is it. For now that is. And that’s what I need to keep in mind.

And, in it’s usual timely fashion, yesterday Offbeat families featured this article entitled 8 ways to help you deal when the time isn’t right to have a baby. I suggest you read it 🙂

How did you decide when/if to have kids (or have more kids)? How did you handle criticism or comments from family/friends? Any experience with the IUD you want to share?

KidsQuest: A Museum Review

If you’re looking for something FREE to do on a rainy Seattle day, then I definitely suggest KidsQuest Museum in the Factoria Mall. Granted, in order for it to be free, you’ll need a friend with a membership who is willing to sacrifice a guest pass to take you! HA! BUT, if you are looking for something relatively CHEAP to do in the area, then, at eight bucks for adults (and kiddos under 1 are free), this is definitely your place! In fact, the yearly membership is something whopping like $80, so it might even be worth it for our family to shell out that kind of dough, cause even if we went 1 time a month, it would pay for itself in less than a year!

I’m dubbing it a “Little Science Center,” as an ode to THE Seattle Science Center that I grew up loving. What makes KidsQuest amazing, though, is that there is a section that is specifically designed for the under 3 crowd, While this doesn’t limit your access to the rest of the area (with supervision of course!) it does allow for our little pumpkins to explore the world around them (ie crawling, toddling unsteadily) without fear of being bulldozed by some 17 year old on a cell phone or even a pack of 7 year olds squirrelling around. I felt great about sitting back for a few moments, catching up with my college pal (who was there with her daughter who’s 1 month older than Potamus), and keeping an eye on the Potamus as he explored. Today’s adventure included shaking several rattles, rolling a blow-up beach ball all around the room (up the stairs and down the wheelchair ramp), staring at the fishtank, and trying to share his toys with other young fellas.

After the tots (okay, the mamas) were thoroughly worn out, we walked around the other parts of the museum that have a more sciency feel to them. There were sensory stations with sand, water stations where you could watch ping pong balls flow down a river (that you could change by adding different logs to the river flow), and various other stations that were occupied by interested kiddos. I loved it, and will DEFINITELY be bringing Potamus back…even if I have to pay for myself this time!