Early signs

It’s funny. So far, everyone who knows (I’ve only told a few close friends and family) has asked me if I knew I was pregnant before I found out officially. In a weird way, I think I did.

Call it second-mother’s instinct or just being hyper-tuned to my body, but the first symptom I experienced was the heightened sense of smell. I was washing dishes and noticed the smell of lemon coming from somewhere. I looked around to see if Jon had left a sliced up lemon anywhere only to find it resting across the room. “Weird,” I thought. And that’s when it struck me. I knew I had to get a test the next day.

Of course, the other voice in my head told me I was just being silly. But my gut knew what was up. It wasn’t until I sat down and closely examined the calendar that I realized I was late, which is unusual for me since my cycle has been coming early for the past couple weeks.

So here I am, officially 6 weeks pregnant and very much looking forward to my doctor appointment on the 3rd. I wonder if this pregnancy will make the year go by slower or faster?

Skiing and other things

Jon and I are gearing up for our trip to Breckenridge. We planned this trip back in December after seeing a deal on Continental for $150 a ticket. A steal, right?

Well, at that time, things were different. Much different. For one, I actually would have been able to go skiing. Secondly, I would have been able to partake in many of Breckenridge's fine breweries. And maybe have the occasional hot toddy.

Now that baby #2 is on the way, looks like I won't be able to do either of those things. Jon has forbidden me from hitting the slopes, seeing as how my last attempt at skiing mostly involved me sliding down the mountain on my butt. And the drinking, well that's obvious.

It's funny how being pregnant forces you to go outside of your usual past times. Instead of skiing, I've discovered many other snow activities, like tubing and sledding. Instead of a hot toddy, a nice cup of hot cocoa actually sounds kinda good. And cuddling up to a warm fire never sounded better.

It's not so bad, this pregnancy thing. Sure, you've gotta put some things on hold. But it gives you a whole different perspective.

Symptoms this week: Not many besides cramping, the crabbiness and extreme fatigue. Oh one new one (much to Jon's dismay): my boobs are unbelievably sore.

Here we go again

Well, it appears we’re in for round 2. If you’re here, then you obviously know by now that Jon and I are expecting Baby Greenwood 2.5. Needless to say, we’re very excited.

It’s still really early, as I’m only four weeks along. I’ve already called the doctor and made an appointment for Feb. 3. Surprisingly, she didn’t want to see me sooner, which struck me as odd since I’m considered high risk (at the end of my first pregnancy, I got into a fight with a handrail and, well, the rail won.) But I suppose it makes sense, in a way, since there’s probably not much to monitor in there just yet.

You’re probably wondering if anything’s different this time around. Some things are—for example, I noticed slight changes early on. My sense of smell heightened last week. I could smell every tiny little scent that wafted in the air (which is not a good thing, TRUST ME). . And that uncontrollable fatigue that I experienced with my first – feeling like I got hit by a truck—is back. I swear, I’ve taken naps at almost every lunch break.

One thing that has been different is the queasiness I’ve felt, more so than with my first pregnancy. I started noticing it this weekend. I haven’t upchucked or anything, but I’ve gotten damn close. Oh, and one final symptom. I’ve been a raving bitch. Poor Jon and Jordan. I’ve been trying to tell myself to calm down, but when your hormones are raging, it’s near impossible. I almost lost it this morning when a button popped off my coat (“HOW the HELL am I suppose to stay warm now?! WAHHH!”) But all that will pass, I’m hoping.

I’ll be really interested to see how I feel during our trip to Breckenridge!

Shaking off the cobwebs

Weeeelll, looks like it's time to dust off the old blog. I have a long 2011 ahead of me. Let's hope for the best.

xoxo,
G.

Monkeying around

One of the few Jon and Kate Plus Eight episodes I ever saw involved one of Kate’s brood waking up in a poopie mess. I’m talking poop up the back, in the crib, everywhere. They were young, still toddlers, during this episode, but I remember thinking, “Oh god, I hope that never happens to me.” Nothing makes me want to puke faster.

Well, in the past 24 hours, Monkey has more than deserved his nickname.

Last night, right before bed, he had a poopie. As I was changing his diaper, he reaches down, grabs his diaper (yes—with poop STILL in it!) and flings it over his head. I almost passed out. Poop hit the side of his head, and a giant turd landed right next to his ear. Visions of a future GG Allen quickly filled my head. Fortunately, Jon was there to help with the mess, but had he not been there, I honestly don’t know what I would’ve done. Dunked Jordan in a bath of antibacterial gel immediately, no doubt.

And then this morning, we had a surprise poopie diaper. Once again, Jordan managed to writhe in all manner of ways, making cleanup a colossal mess. Into the wash goes his bedspread.

Once all was said and done, though, I realized that I had overcome perhaps one of my biggest fears as a parent – cleaning up toddler poop. Not cute baby poop; that’s totally different and quite honestly, pretty manageable.

Sweet dreams

We’ve reached yet another milestone with Jordan. We’ve transitioned to a big-boy bed.

After several near-misses with him climbing out of the crib, Jordan’s escape attempts led Jon and I to go on the hunt for a toddler bed. We perused through Ikea and Jordan tested a few beds, finally settling upon a white bed, low to the ground, with sheep on the headboard.

He was so excited about his big boy bed, so Jon and I kept our fingers crossed that he would sleep through the night. And he did, for the most part. We only had to get up twice. Jon got up at 1 pm (Jordan’s pacis were on the floor) and I got up at 4 am (he was just scared).

The past two nights, however, have been great. He’s slept through the night and actually making him go to sleep has been much easier than it has been in the crib. Talk about being lucky! We usually read two books (lately, the selection has been from "Brown Bear" and "Mrs. McNosh and the Giant Squash" or "Binky."). He'll try to negotiate a glass of water or juice or his deeses (yet another hurdle we'll have to eventually overcome). But once is said and done, he's good to go.

Next step and the one that we're quite frankly dreading -- taking the dees (aka: paci) away. Baby steps.

The Negotiator

Lately, Jordan and I have added a new ritual to our bedtime routine—negotiating. Actually, it’s more him telling me he needs to do something and then not doing it.

At school, they’re potty training him, so he knows what going to the potty means. He also knows it’s a great way to get out of going to bed. The past couple nights, it’s gone something like this:

Me: Ok, night night.
Jordan: Poop?
Me: You have to poop?
Jordan: Yeaaaahhhh….
Me: Ok, let’s go poop.

He then happily bolts out the door the minute I open it and goes straight to the living room to play. No poop. So I pick him up, bring him back to his room, and start to put him in his crib. To which he responds, “Poop?”

sigh.

“You really have to go?”

“Yeaaahhh…”

This time, he actually goes into the bathroom, but just sits on the toilet, gleefully swinging his legs. No pooping. So, it looks like my kid has mastered the art of bullsh***ing. Great.