I think I'm possessed.

This evening, I am having intense back pain. We had a busy day (or busy 4 days) and I've learned that after a particularly busy day, I experience crazy back pain. It's like the lowest part of my tail bone. I can barely stand, can't bend my knees, cannot take a step forward, can't really do anything unless I'm in a loungy position.
Marcus evidently was getting sick of my antics and song and dance when it came down to getting into a standing position. He was trying to tell me how to do it and what I was doing wrong, but clearly he is not an expert in fetus carrying related back pain.
I was trying to stand up to get myself a bowl of cereal. But the drama was too much for him, so he got up and fetched me a bowl. I was so thankful. When I went to sit, my back gave out and I sort of collapsed (in super graceful form) onto the couch. And he yelled at me. Said I looked like I just got hit with a hand grenade. I can't even type that without laughing out loud. I started laughing as he said it, but because my back hurt so bad, it turned into tears. I was confused by this reaction. I was taking too long to get to my cereal in my husband's opinion. He was telling me it was going to get soggy! I started to get upset! Tears and laughter were getting stuck in my throat. As I scooped a spoonful of Kellogg's Krave bomb ass cereal into my pie hole, it occurred to me that it was a "big" spoon. Not a regular size spoon that I prefer. I was trying to keep it together, but I sort of snorted and all the cereal milk came spurting out of my mouth as I started sobbing. Sobbing. Because the spoon was too big. I wanted to laugh because I knew I was being ridiculous. But then more than that, I wanted to cry because I simply couldn't hold it together. So here I sit. I have mascara smudged all over my cheeks. Marcus wants nothing to do with me or my demons.
It's all a blur at this point. I think the episode lasted at least 5 minutes. And when you think about that, that's a long time of simply not having any grasp on your emotions.

But every time I think of that hand grenade reference, I start half laugh/half crying again. I better go to bed.

Have you ever had any completely inexplicable pregnancy meltdowns?

Can you top mine?

I Have Very Little To Talk About

Life has been pretty dull around these parts, and that's not so bad.
The weather this summer has been mostly awesome and before I quit my job, I figured I'd be out enjoying every moment of the summer sun, but there's only so much I can take. I've relaxed a little around my in-law's pool, so we've spent some time there splashing and having fun.

Just let me go under already!!

One day I brought her there and she only wanted to play in the water for about 15 minutes. Then she wanted to crawl up and down the stairs and play inside. Well, no one was home at my in-law's, and it just didn't feel right hanging out inside on such a nice day. So I put her down for a nap. The logical thing to do...?

I thought she'd be tired, but after an hour she was shouting, and I was roasting in the beastly hot sun and was hoping that she'd wake up. So our day at the pool was actually 15 minutes of fun, 15 minutes of whining, and 60 minutes of me feeling like a pig roast and 60 minutes of Charlotte shouting. Sounds fun.

We also recently went to a Whitecaps game (our minor league baseball team for those who don't know) for Marcus' work picnic. We didn't watch a lick of baseball because we knew Brobee from Yo Gabba Gabba was there and we needed to find him. Charlotte loves mascots, I think they're creepy as hell. We discovered that we might be the family that puts our kid on a leash. Once her feet hit the pavement, she is gone. How does someone with 15" legs move faster than every person at the ballpark? And she's tricky because it's like she's training for a distance run by doing fartleks. Right when we catch up to her, she slows down so we look like idiots trying to grab her. She keeps her little arms tight to her sides and won't let us grab her. She ran the entire concourse of the ballpark. On top of that, we were about 10 feet away from Brobee, when he decided he needed a break.

I guess he *may* have been getting warm, it was like 85 degrees that day.

So never got to meet him.

So we settled for Frankie. You know...the pig that wears a floatie ring? Because that just shouts "West Michigan Whitecaps!"

You smell like bacon. And I LOVE bacon. 

We're headed back to the ballpark again tonight, so not only do we get another opportunity to hang out with teens dressed in cuckoo costumes, but it's 10 cent hot dog night! Nothing says quality like 10 cent "meat"!

Moments in Motherhood

The following are just a few of the awesome mom-related activities that have taken place this week. If you're not a fan of bodily function stories, feel free to leave, losers.

On Monday, I was getting Charlotte ready for a fun filled time outside in her baby pool. Before I changed her, I took a little peek in the side of her diaper to make sure it wasn't loaded so I could just change her in the living room. In the case of a dirty diaper, I need to have reinforcements and a systems of levers and pulleys to ensure she doesn't run off. All was clear as I peeked in her diaper, so I proceeded with the great clothing change. Charlotte of course ran off as soon as she was nakey, and it was then that I realized that yes, her diaper was clean, but she pooped nevertheless. I had to chase her and her stuck on silly puddy before we had a mess. This was the perfect opportunity to sit her on the potty and get her cleaned up and maybe give her a lesson in potty training.

Tuesday: Diaper change time again!! This time from bathing suit into dry clothes. I, of course, thought I had a diaper handy, but I didn't. I quickly ran upstairs while Charlotte waited diaperless. I thought to myself, "If I were smart, I'd put her on the potty just to be safe." (We aren't really potty training, I'm just getting her used to the idea) I was upstairs for literally 10 seconds, and when I came down her legs were all wet. Good grief sister. I crawled around patting the carpet looking for the wet spot. I finally discovered it right outside the bathroom!! Maybe if I would leave the door open, she would have helped herself to the potty.

I TOLD YOU NOT TO TELL ANYONE

Brings me to today. This one is not potty related. I took Charlotte to my in-laws pool. We were chillin on the top step after Charlotte walked around collecting little acorn tops. She was insisting on cramming them into my mouth. I pursed my lips and shook my head no and told her "this is not food!" She continued to play and occasionally would try sticking an acorn lid in my mouth. She finally succeeded and I spit it out with the quickness and she had an absolute meltdown. Complete toddler-style meltdown. I was worried the neighbors were going to think something terrible happened. I quickly put her under the water to get her to be quiet. Just kidding. I didn't do that. I was just checking to see if you were still paying attention since this one wasn't about pee or poop. I distracted her and she stopped crying. Story award goes to me.

This are just the little things that can take place in the life of a parent. I'm sure generations before me had similar stories but they didn't have a blog to share them so that makes my stories better.

I Sleep A Lot

Some people associate sleeping with laziness. I, however, associate it with awesomeness.
You may think I'm wasting precious getting stuff done hours by napping, but what I'm really doing is becoming so much smarter than you.
Ok. I'll try to keep the snark to a minimum, but really, I do require a lot of sleep. Most people say 8 hours is plenty, others only need 6. I need 9 hours of sleep. I can sometimes sleep 10, but that's only if Charlotte lets me sleep in until 8 and if I made it to bed by 10 pm. I frequently nap during the day. Not frequently in one day, but many times throughout the week. Yeah, I'm pregnant, but I think I would try to sneak in a cat nap even if I weren't.
Here's the issue. Pregnancy, though it makes me sleepy, doesn't allow me to sleep at night. I've had this nagging anxiety the past few months which causes my mind to race, especially at night. Add a crazy post-surgery hound to the mix, I won't sleep at all.
Last night for some reason, we had a smoke detector beep sporadically 3 times. Just one loud beep! over the course of an hour. It didn't really bother me, but for some reason, Darby went apeshit. Dude, it's just a beep. She wanted to hide in the bathroom, so when we put her in the bathroom, she'd want to come in our room. If she's in our room, she can be trusted, but if she's on her own, she'll lick her stitches. So then we'd have to put her cone around her head.
This monkey business continued from 11-1. The last I looked at the clock, it was 1:30 and I was ticked!
The thing is, this is how Darby will be ALL day, and then at night, she's up and at 'em.

I ended up giving her a valium and we slept until 6:30. 

This turned into being about the dog, when really it was supposed to be about my sleep habits. Since both are so extremely interesting it doesn't matter which direction it goes in because I know you're enthralled. 

I may as well throw a little Charlotte in here, too! 

She's not saying a ton of words specifically, but I sort of know what she's saying. She was good at using words for a little while, but now she's resorted to using "d" as her main consonant of choice. 

Me: Say please!

C: Daaaaah!

Me: Ok, now say thank you!

C: Dinkoo!

Me: Where's your blankie?

C: Deedeeee

Diaper=Dyder

Mama=Dada

Dada=Dada

Darby=Goggie

Milk=Meowl

What cat's say= Meow

Bubbles=Bubbahs

Yes=No

No= No, but with fury.

Drinking her meowl

I went on a little shopping trip this week and when I think about what I purchased for the girls, I realize it was almost exclusively pajamas and this:

She better oblige! 

Sorry this kind of went all over the place. You can tell I'm tired.

How much sleep do you require? Am I abnormal when it comes to demanding so much sleep?

I Don't Mind The Vacuuming

About 18 months ago, we took Darby into the vet to have some shady looking bumps checked out.
It's been a very long 18 months since then. It was discovered that the bumps were mast cell tumors, a cancerous type of tumor that occurs in dogs. The prognosis was hopeful - we decided the best course of action would be to surgically remove the bumps as they appeared and treat it with an oral steroid. As long as the tumor was completely removed, she should be just fine, well at least for a while.

Darby just turned 4 in March. She is too young to have this disease. If it's common, it occurs in dogs 8 or 9 or even older. She's had multiple surgeries in the last 18 months...4, maybe 5....and the recovery is a pain in the ass. She's chewed her stitches out, she's puked all over, she's had diarrhea explosions all over the plush carpeting. It's hard to tell how she's actually feeling considering the big change that also occurred in the last 18 months - a new little human living in the house. So does she keep to herself more because she feels crappy or because she's sick of Charlotte jacking her swagger?

Today I brought Darby back to the vet to have a few more tumors removed. I was hoping to have an opportunity to talk with the vet (a very well respected dr. who has been practicing for a long time) just to see if we're still doing the right thing. He ended up calling me in the middle of surgery saying he didn't want to proceed based on the location of one of the tumors. He also told me no more surgeries for Darby.

And also said "I don't know what we should do anymore."

I asked him "What are you saying...specifically?"
My eyes began to fill up with tears as I tried to hold it together while I was on the phone.

He asked me if I thought Darby was happy.
I couldn't answer confidently. I know Marcus would say of course she's happy, but I'm not as convinced. But overall yes, I do think she's happy. She's a good dog, a staple in our home. She does not appear to be in pain. She's not moping around 100% of the time, and gets super excited to go out and play.

I asked him if he was suggesting we put Darby to sleep.
He responded by saying not if we feel like she still is enjoying life.

We love this dog so very much. We anticipated her arrival for nearly a YEAR after doing so much research and chose a wonderful breeder. We brought her to puppy school, took her lure coursing, and brought her everywhere with us. She's been a constant companion and the best cuddle buddy around.

Darby is staying overnight at the vet just for observation and we'll talk in person with the vet tomorrow. She's going to go home with us tomorrow. And we're going to love her and continue to spoil her until we know it's her time to go.

We recognize we've had our challenges with this hound. Many headaches were had, tears were shed, and bottles of carpet cleaner were sprayed.
Today, before I even talked with the vet, I was cleaning the floors and vacuuming the couch. And the thought actually crept into my mind - what if this is the last time I'm mopping up dog paw marks or vacuuming up short red fur off our new couch?

I know it won't be, because she's coming home tomorrow. And she will let Charlotte poke at her face and crawl all over her before she darts off into the other room. She will wait patiently for Charlotte to throw her leftovers on the floor. She will nudge our covers and whine to us to let her under. She will wake up way too early. She will sleep all day. Her ears will perk up when she hears the jingle of her leash when it's time to go for a w-a-l-k. And life will continue as normal until it's time to make the next decision, whatever that might be.

Beware of the Mama Monster

Pregnancy lately has turned me into an anxiety ridden mama monster.
Well, at least I'm blaming it on pregnancy, since I wasn't a super nervous mom before.

We have several sets of stairs in our "mutli-level" home. Charlotte learned to use them early, and quite well. I just recently started to nervous about this because she's attempting to step up and down, rather than climb and crawl. When I go upstairs to let Darby out of her crate, Charlotte will follow me and Darby races out of her crate toward the stairs. Oh geesh. I have a toddler standing on the top stair excited to see her pup, and Darby just about knocks her over backwards. Terror ensues.

We visit in my in-law's pool and they have a "multi-level" deck. I don't know how familiar or comfortable she is around them since I'm not there when my mother in law is watching her. All I know is that she's clueless around the pool and toddles around at full speed and I.can.barely.stand.it. I cannot relax on a warm sunny day if my kid is awake.

Yesterday we went out to the family cottage for the first time of the season. Last year it was fun. I could stick her in her bumbo and take pictures of her. I could lay her under her play gym and she'd kick and squeal and not tumble down the stairs. Well, wouldn't you know it, the cottage has TWO decks with a few sets of stairs! Why are there always hard wooden stairs everywhere?! Then of course there's Darby who wants to run around to her heart's content, but I have visions of doom and freak accidents and I cannot contain both my crazy dog and my curious child. If it weren't for nap time, I would have no time to recharge and regain what's left of my sanity.

I assume that I'm not alone in the mom-related anxiety battle. I'm just frustrated that I was always fine before! I was fairly laid back (yet seemingly responsible) and the thought of having another child (and I thought for a while that I maybe wanted a bunch of kids!) makes me completely overwhelmed when I think about the possibility of never relaxing again.

When we're home, I am mostly at ease, because I know what Charlotte is capable of. I just feel sick to my stomach and cannot chill if we're in a new place these days!

Do you ever feel the same way? How do you learn to chill again?

Phone Dump

I was swiping through my photos yesterday and realized they pretty much sum up what's been going on lately (besides my ER visit. no photos, please!)  side note: 10 years ago if I would have said "swiping through my photos" it would have made it sound like I was manically spreading them out all over the place, or possibly "making it rain" with my pictures. Sorry. Tangent.

So here's my phone dump, and not in exact chronological order.


I discovered that my house had a mouse. And that made me INSANE.

yeah. that's mouse crap.

So naturally, I assumed mice made a home in my dishtowel basket. I chucked it outside and ran.

No, I'm not trapped under a rug. That's my view above rotund belly at 22 weeks. 

Have you heard of this? Best invention ever. Darby traveled three hours without panting or pacing (a problem she developed since we got the mini van) and was calmer than normal during the thunder storm we had over the weekend.

SO WORTH IT

 She sort of looked like a helper dog.

So chill. So chill I might just pee in your bed this weekend instead of telling you it's time to go out.

Yeah. She peed on our bed in the middle of the night. It was unrelated to the thundershirt. It was the night I was given morphine and I think I slept a little deeper than normal. She also had a chill pill before bed (she also doesn't sleep during the night while we're up north.) I'm sort of relieved it was her and not me.

Dad. Your jokes are lame.

Completely fascinated with the storm sewer grate. 

She looks so smart ever since her auto accident. 

 I picked up a potty to get Charlotte familiar with it.

Just testing the waters

Off to the hives to collect honey

I must get my power seller status back!!

Yes! Another positive rating! 

Eyes on the water, Captain Charlotte

She tells us she knows how to swim, but we don't trust her.

Ruby. Your face is squashed in.

And that?  is hilarious.

                                       

                                                      Watchin Elmo with my baby sister

We came back from my not so great weekend (everyone else had a nice time...) and fortunately caught that bastard mouse, but I'm not sure he was working alone. I need to set out more traps. 

I've also been feeling much better and have moved forward eating regular food. My doctor is hesitant to do much testing while I'm pregnant, so hopefully whatever that flare up was, it doesn't happen again. 

That's all for now, folks.