Moving

I'm turning a new stone and have decided to blog at a new address. That is, when I do have the time again to blog!

Please update your favorites/links to our new address:

Life at Monkey Hill

Thanks! See ya round the new hood soon!

Piper!

I would have never dreamt this in a million years, but on August 29, two weeks ago today, I gave birth to my second daughter. I've not the time to tell you all the drama and excitement that has surrounded her arrival into this world, though I will say that she is absolutely perfect. PERFECT.

Here she is just minutes old.



And here she is earlier this morning. Like her mommy, she is waiting to get her nails done.



I can't say when I will be back online to share with you the highs and lows that comes with being a new (again) mommy, but I promise it will be soon! I know I can't keep my fans waiting too long.

40 weeks, 2 days....

Yesterday after the sudden burst of energy which is typical of a pregnant woman about to go into labor, I started to experience labor.!!! It was starting to happen. I had been out walking the dog after making a batch of my world famous chocolate chip cookies. Suddenly I couldn't walk anymore and I had to get inside. It was all I could do to stand. "I'm going to have a baby!" I exclaimed. My dog smiled at me and thought I was talking about cuddling him.

After many hours of having contractions 10 minutes apart, I fell asleep. I was worn out. My husband was tired of massaging my back, too. At 2am I woke up feeling as intense as I had at 10pm. It didn't last long. My husband simply acknowledged me in his sleep with a "Cool" when I tried to wake him with, "I just had 2 more contractions!" I ended up falling back to sleep. When I got up at 6am, it was like nothing had happened: no intensity, no feelings of labor. Nada. In fact, I had dreamt that I was simply mistaking morning sickness for labor.

So I did some housework and hung out with my hubby and daughter. Then at 10am, it all started again. I thought, "This is it! We are having a baby today!" My husband called in sick and my daughter made sure she had all the necessary items in her overnight bag. I called my doctor and was told that if I was feeling as intense as I was last night, go straight to the hospital. So, just to be sure, I waited. And had contractions. And got so emotional that I could barely talk to my friend who is Darian's birth partner. I cried and couldn't stop. My friend thought for sure I was in labor. The dogs stopped barking and my daughter hugged me tight. We left for the hospital at 2 this afternoon.

And nothing happened. I spent close to 2 hours on the fetal monitor in triage and NOT ONE contraction. I was getting uncomfortable with the position I was laying in and hoping the resident would make his way in to check my cervix. How far am I dilated? Will I be discharged from triage and admitted, or sent home? Is this the real life or is this just fantasy? Because by this time, I wasn't easy come, easy go, but I was a little high and a little low. You who have born children know what I am talking about.

It was then that I met the real life Doogie Howser. Dr. Ken was his name. A fine young chap who had a lot of admiration for my OB. Dr. Ken checked out the fetal monitor report ("Yup, not one contraction!"), listened to my heart ("Boy, can I tell you are hungry- I could hear your stomach growl while listening to your chest!"), and used the fancy word for ankle swelling ("You have mild edema in both ankles and feet.) Der, Doogie. Get to the goods. Mommy wants to know how far she is dilated.

"I want to check your cervix, but I first need to get a nurse chaperone. I will be right back!"

I look to my husband with the "Huh?" face who then mouths the word, "Resident." Ah! Fresh out of school and hardly a cervix examined! Of course he needs a nurse to guide his hand!

Dr. Ken returns, a bit flustered to say that the nurse is not available. "Uh, since your husband is here, and I, uh, need to check your cervix, do you give me permission to do so without a nurse present?"

"Dr. Ken, that is the last thing I have been waiting for- this cervical exam. I have no problem having no chaperone." Good lord, I'm not Amish!!

(My husband later said to me, "You know that nurse looked at Ken and said, "Babydoll, I'm working on my crossword here. You just go in and give Mrs. Bo her exam. Don't worry, her husband is there to kick your ass if you make a mistake. Go on, baby. You can do it!)

So Dr. Ken meticulously washes up, puts on gloves, and paints his fingers ever so carefully with lube. Don't want to get too messy! He then starts to conduct the exam and I can feel that this child, this pre-pubescent scamp, has performed this type of internal examination one other time in his 5 minute career. And I assume that exam was not on a live woman. I look at his face, which is flushed, and see that his eyes are closed and he is mouthing numbers to himself. And I kid you not, his hand is shaking. He apologized 3 times for the pressure. What pressure? I want to push a baby out of that space and I want to do it NOW!!! Do I need to reach around and show you how, Doogie? So, in order to make him feel a bit at ease (pardon the lube pun), I told him what happened at my doctor visit Monday:

"Oh, no worries! You know, Dr. A used a metal specula on me Monday, turned his back, and it started to fall out, but got kind of caught. My daughter was with us and said, "Uh, something just fell out of my mom!"

My husband laughed and said, "Yeah, Dr. A seemed pretty tired Monday!"

This did not put Dr. Ken at ease, rather, he turned a darker shade of red. Too bad he couldn't put both his right index finger and left into his ears and shout, "I can't hear you, I can't hear you!" His right hand was still making it's determination as to my dilation.

Doogie didn't have the best news for me. He looked at my chart asking again how many centimeters I was on Monday. "Dr. A says I was 1.5cm and 65% effaced." Doogie looked sad. "I'm sorry, Mrs. Bo. You are still around 1cm, but the good news is that you are 80% effaced. I predict in a few more days, you'll be in full labor. Of course, anything can happen!! I'm on call all this week, so it's possible, I will see you again!"

Hooray! I just had a nineteen year old feel me as only few other men have felt me before and he may just get to do it again!!!

So, as you can see, I am back at home, sitting at my computer while my feet dangle increasing my *edema*.

Packing the bag....

Today is Piper's due date!!! I'm feeling like she will make her debut tomorrow or Wednesday. My body can't handle the sharing for much longer than that.

We have become totally complacent here at Monkey Hill. We went to a couples shower this past Saturday for a friend who is due with their first 6 weeks after ours is due. They have their nursery finished already. I still have yet to wash the bedding and make the crib. Eh. The baby doesn't sleep in the crib the first few weeks, anyway. We did manage to pick up the co-sleeper for our bed the other day because, as you can see, the Moses basket has been taken over by the cats.

Well, Blogger is taking it's sweet old time trying to upoload a picture of my cats and by the time it is online, I will probably have the baby! So, no photo.


One thing that I have managed is personal maintenance: I got a pedicure and my brows are done. BECAUSE HAVING A CLEAN BROW LINE AND FRESHLY PAINTED TOENAILS SCREAM "IT"S TIME TO HAVE A BABY!!"

For my husband, the bag with the laptop and camera are ready for the wi-fi connection at the hospital.....

A trip to the ER and a new toy

This past weekend was action packed at Monkey Hill! First, my husband decided to surprise me with something I had been asking for before I got pregnant, but ceased to ask for these past 7 months.

"Hmm...the only thing I can think of is that set of cookware I have been coveting. Oh, if you got me saucepans I am going to kill you."

"Keep guessing..."

"Prada handbag!!!"

"Nope, I have it here at work and am playing with it."

"Volvo S80!!"

"Now how can I play with that at work?"

"Ah, you are programming the key thingy?"

"Keep guessing."

Had enough? He got me this. Complete with lessons and lenses. Like I have time for lessons right now, but still!!

Last week he tore a muscle in his calf while doing sprints at tae kwon do. Just what a 39 week pregnant wife needs...a limping husband who has to ice and elevate his strain every hour or so. I gingerly intimated that furniture still needed to be moved, put together, and other finishing touches to the house that I cannot possibly do. (I am the master at delegating and deflecting.) Saturday as he was on the complete mend and excited about his honey-do list, he changed into his leisure clothes to find his calf swollen, his foot purple.


"My God!! You have a blood clot!" I exclaimed!

After phoning the local hospital's ask a nurse, she suggested that an ER visit would be a good thing. So, to rule out the fact that my husband could have a heart attack and die at any moment because of the pool of blood lodged in his foot, and because we just love emergency rooms, we jumped in the car and speeded to the hospital. Where I am pre-registered to deliver Piper.

I am glad to report that this ER visit was painless- only four other patients who apparently did not need to be seen before my husband as they were enjoying movies playing on the 42 inch plasma screen tv's. A quick and timely staff, and a doctor who decided there was no need for bloodwork (cha-ching) or any other sort of tests (again, $$) since my husband did not fall into any risk factors for having a blood clot, we were in and out in an hour flat. Apparently, the swelling and discoloration are typical of a torn muscle; 6 days for it to show up just meant that he has slow moving blood. Or something like that. I just can't wait for the bill!!

Yesterday upon my return from work, excited to see the work that was accomplished around the house- our daughter's room was moved and our spare bedroom was carpeted- I found the husband in the garage, freaking out, getting into his car.

"I'm glad you are here! You need to drive me to the eye doctor. He's ready to see me in 10 minutes!"

What is it now?!! 7 days from my due date and he has an eye infection His eye swollen, his sinuses on overload, and feeling all over not well, he looks like the living dead as he makes his way into the doctor's office, his wife waddling far behind. After some numbing eye drops and a trip to the pharmacy (where I relaxed in a massaging chair!) he is feeling much, much better. And I can't wait for *that* doctor bill!!

I was detailing my husband's ailments to a colleague when she suggested that I need to do something extra special for him. Yeah. Hi. I'M GIVING BIRTH TO HIS CHILD.

So, 6 days and counting and I am already 50% effaced and 1cm dilated!! Oh. Boy. I can't wait for that bill!!!!

It's a 9 year difference

Ever since I started telling people about my pregnancy and how my daughters will have a 9 year age difference, a common reply is, "Oh, so you have a built in babysitter!" I don't know about you, but I would never trust a nine year old to babysit a baby. Now, maybe when my first born is *15* and my second is *6*, but right off the bat? No. And after hearing people suggest it enough, Darian has asked, in all truth, will she have to babysit at such a young age? I assured her that it is illegal for me to allow this.

My husband's family has experienced a wide span of ages between brothers and sisters. It is pretty common to hear how the oldest of one parent or grandparent helped raise the other kids in the family. And when they talk about having to do so, their voices express a slight undertone of resentment. (Not that they would ever admit to feeling that way! No!) Since the age gaps are so typical, it is assumed that Darian will feel that she, as most of the other women on that side have, were like a second mother. And they have told her this in so much as, "Oh, one day when you are grown up, you will feel like you have raised Piper!" I always come back and say that Darian's role in the family is to be a child and she is never to assume the role of a parent. Scott and I swore that we will NEVER do anything to make her feel like she has anything to do with parenting Piper. NEVER. That said, this morning at breakfast, Darian informed us that she will not be changing any poopy diapers. That's fine by us! We would much rather take that on than chase after the barking dog with the water bottle. Let her parent the dogs! Kids love that kind of stuff! How many movies have you seen where the 8-10 year old adopts or finds a puppy and has it trained to be the envy of all the dog owners in the neighborhood? I bet there isn't a warm and fuzzy movie about a 9 year old raising her sister. Can you think of one?

Today a colleague asked me why one would burden their kid with even mentioning the whole 'second mother' thing. I said I really don't know since I have been married to it for 13 years and it tends to fall on deaf ears. She, too, feels that, even though there is an older sibling in the house, it is not the child's obligation or burden to do any 'parenting' of the new babies or little ones. She then told me this anecdote about her children who are 5 years apart:

"My baby boy was crying and I was occupied for a second. I looked at my daughter who was 5 at the time and asked her to go in the baby's room and try to calm him down. She then put her hands on her hips and said, 'Excuse me, but I am not the mom here.' Well, that was my quick reality check!"

While I do expect my first born to show a bit more responsibility around the house- being proactive with the dogs and her laundry, preparing dinner for her weary parents, making 3am runs to the 24 hour Walgreens to get diapers, and mowing the lawn- I have absolutey no expectations for her with regard to the care, nuturing, and upbringing of our second.

Darian has graciously informed us that she will *play* with her sister. And that's about it.

Thanks, darlin'. You really do know how to listen to your mommy.

They're not coming to visit because of the new baby, it's all about the bed

I should give you an update as to my pregnancy because, well, I think I have been neglecting in that arena. I hoped you guessed from the last post that I have laughed in the face of hemorrhoids, avoiding them entirely. I KNOW YOU NEEDED TO KNOW THAT.

As of this moment, I have 18 days until my due date. At my last doctor visit, which was this Tuesday, my blood pressure was beautifully low, my weight gain is in check (a total of 28 lbs so far), and Piper has a strong heartbeat. We had an ultrasound a couple weeks ago in which it was determined that she is slightly bigger gestationally than Darian, but she is still far from a nine or ten pounder. My guess is that I will carry her to full term (through August 21), delivering the evening of the 22nd, and she will come out weighing 8lbs 4oz. (Darian was due on June 21, she was born 45 minutes later on the 22nd and weighed in at 7lbs 7oz. I had toxemia during labor, an emergency c-section, and put on close to 80 pounds. My mother-in-law was dying- passed away 24 days after Darian was born, so needless to say that nine years ago, birthing a baby was a very stressful time for me. Not so this go round. Phew!)

So, with that bit if background, try to take a stab at the baby's due date and her weight. I'd be interested to know what you think.

Speaking of guesses, my girlfriend Laa-Laa threw me a lovely shower this past weekend in which one of the games was to guess Piper's due date. I can't wait to find out who the winner will be! I have a small group of incredibly generous friends who showered me with love, support, items from my registry, and super cute baby clothes. I really am blessed to have their circle surrounding me.

In addition to being showered by friends, my husband and I upgraded our bed to a king this past weekend and treated ourselves to a Tempurpedic. (No, we did not order it from TV! We actually tried it first at a mattress store, comparing it to the mattress we planned on purchasing.) All I can say is that it is Heavenly. The day it was delivered, I warned my boss that I may not make it into work the next day for wanting to revel in the unique feeling this mattress delivers. Though I still awake at 3am thanks to Piper using my bladder as a pillow, I have had the most restful sleep I think I have ever had. So now, our friends are wanting to visit us- not to see the new baby- but to lay on the bed!! Who can blame them?!!

The H word

I receive an online newsletter that provides me with information about my pregnancy tips for coping, etc. I have to admit that I hardly pay attention. Until yesterday when this came through my inbox:

Week 37 Pregnancy Tip

Keeping Hemorrhoids Quiet

Hi J Bo,
Many women experience hemorrhoids during pregnancy, to their great discomfort. Here are some things you can do to manage the itching, bleeding and general pain:
~Gradually increase your intake of fiber-rich foods, such as whole wheat breads and cereals with bran, to avoid constipation which can cause hemorrhoids
~Don't strain during bowel movements
~Use moistened toilet paper or packaged wet wipes for meticulous cleaning
~Perform Kegel exercises daily to strengthen your pelvic floor and aid circulation in your pelvic area

I didn't realize hemorrhoids were loud.

Just because I have two brains in my body doesn't mean I can think

The other night my husband and I were talking about people we thought were easy on the eyes. Only because, every time he talks about our accountant, I *always* mutter under my breath, "Oh, he is so easy on the eyes." In our 13 years together, my husband has never mentioned another person we know personally who he finds attractive.

"So, I will tell you, honey, that there is one woman in our neighborhood here who I find easy on the eyes."

"Really?!! Let me try to guess......OH, it's got to be...Ruth"

(Ruth is our nosey German neighbor who told me that she didn't realize that I was pregnant but thought I was 'just getting big.' She's also older than dirt.)

"Oh, you know it...that fine piece of German heiney walking her dog in front of our house everyday, looking in the windows."

"But Heiney is a dutch beer."

"Yeah, you're right. Nope, not her. Guess again."

"OK...it's got to be Mary. When she's outside in her housecoat smoking a cigarette."

"NO!"

"Margie?"

"The one who has a rocking chair sculpture in her yard? Nope!"

"Well, then it has to be Stephanie."

"Who?"

"Stephanie. From across the street? She is kind of young? You think her name is Michelle?"

"Oh. No."

"Well..."

"Honey, it's YOU, moron!! YOU are the one lady in the neighborhood I think is easy on the eyes!!!! WHO ELSE WOULD IT BE???"

duh.

Tell me why....

...my husband installs an air conditioner and this morning the heating guy shows up to fill our oil tank?

Because when it was 94 degrees on Sunday, the oil company wanted to make sure we were prepared for the upcoming freeze!!

Oh. I know my friend....irony.