What Do You Pledge?

I have beliefs, religious and personal. In my mind, my perspective on these subjects is the right one. (Logically, I wouldn't believe in something I thought was wrong.) My convictions are not the same as all the other people on the planet. There are many, many religions. There are countless other causes people support. Just like me, each person believes that their own personal values are the right ones.

My religion is Christianity. A part of that religion is the idea that God created human beings with free will. No one, not even God, can make us do anything. So why do people, oftentimes Christians, try so hard to force others to bend to their way of thinking?

We threaten, instead of explain.

We bully, instead of embrace.

Where there could be open dialogue, there is close-minded judgement.

Where there is the possibility for a myriad of personalities to interact in harmony, there is prejudice that says if you believe in something different than I do, you fall into a category, and I can't relate to you.

It's an all-or-nothing attitude. When an impasse is reached, we don't say, "Let's just agree to disagree," we continue to fight, wasting energy and resources to force compliance.

I remember being in Geography class in high school and a speaker addressing us about the Middle Eastern countries warring over the Gaza strip, different groups fighting for land because it holds religious significance to them. I raised my hand and asked, "Why can't they just share it? It's land - it's not a toy or a single thing that would have to be traded back and forth. Lots of people can live on it, or use it. Or they could just designate it as holy land for no one to use."

The speaker and the teacher traded an amused look. "If only it were that simple."

But does it really have to be that complicated? Why don't the rules that govern toddlers rule the world? Share. If you can't share, no one gets to play with it.

The reality is, they can't share. Because that would be admitting that it's possible that they aren't right. And they will never give up that fight. They will make the world see that their way is the right way.

This is me saying, I think my way is the right way, 

but I know I can't make you agree with me. 

And I don't want to try to force you to. 

I want you to chat with me. I want you to tell me what you believe and why. I want to get to know you - not make assumptions about who I think you are because you say you are a Democrat or a Republican. And if you disagree with me, great! The world would be a boring place if we all had the same opinions. Share your thoughts, and let's see what happens.

The Internet and social media are making the world a smaller and smaller place. Is it really that far-fetched to think that starting to treat others respectfully in these realms could carry over into real life? Imagine what that would look like. I can't wait to find out...

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I'm being featured on efloraross.com today as a member of The Mom Pledge Community. Over 260 mommy bloggers have taken the pledge to fight online bullying. Please consider joining!

End of an Era

Sunday, May 1, 2011, was a historical day in American history. I don't usually watch the news; it's predominantly depressing, and I have enough things to worry about in my life. But when I saw on Twitter that President Obama was going to make an annoucement declaring that the United States had killed Osama bin Laden, I flipped on the TV. Even though I was getting ready to go to sleep. Even though I was sick and needed my rest. This was huge. I ran downstairs to tell DH. Then I changed the channel for him to a news network, and he said, "Hey! I want to watch the rest of that movie." Clearly people's perceptions of "historical" are varied.

My initial reaction was one of skepticism. We've been searching for him for ten years. (Well, longer than that, but REALLY looking for the last decade.) Once it seemed legit, I was excited - I was doing a fist-pumping "YES!" in my mind. Then proud when I saw the crowd outside the White House singing the national anthem. Thankful, for the soldiers who protect us. Relieved - the subconscious fears instilled with 9/11 slipped away. I went to sleep that night with a lightness I hadn't felt in some time, unaware that it had been weighing upon me.

Monday, I was surprised that no one was really talking about it at work. There was quite a bit of chatter on Facebook and Twitter, though. And many people began to post quotes, some from Martin Luther King, Jr, others from friends, that became entwined. Here's the one I liked most:

"I mourn the loss of thousands of precious lives, but I will not rejoice in the death of one, not even an enemy. Returning hate for hate multiplies hate, adding deeper darkness to a night already devoid of stars. Darkness cannot drive out darkness: only light can do that. Hate cannot drive out hate: only love can do that."

I wish I had those thoughts as my gut reactions. Heck, even as secondary reactions. And I got to thinking about what comes next. Killing Osama bin Laden does not eradicate the al-Qaeda. In fact, it makes him a martyr for them. It empowers and emboldens them. Killing him is like cutting the head off the Hydra. Homeland Security has already elevated the alert status for traveling Americans. I wonder if capturing bin Laden and imprisoning him like we did Saddam Hussein would have been more effective? I wonder if we had shown him mercy, if it would have effectively shown the love that Dr. King was speaking about?

While the end of the bin Laden era is upon us, sadly, it's not the end of terrorism or our way of life in being concerned about our safety. That weight that was lifted Sunday night? Is back. And it won't be gone until light drives out the darkness.

A Sinful Life

Vivobello tweeted that she lost a bunch of followers after writing this post about being harassed by strangers who thought she was a lesbian. I decided to take my comment on her blog and turn it into my own post because I really had more to say about it than was appropriate for that space.

I don’t often address this topic because for me, what it all comes down to is this: it’s really not my place to judge. Oh, I'm judgmental. I like to think that I'm not, but then I hear myself say or think things, and I know that I am. What I mean is that when The Day of Judgment arrives, I will not be the one who is doing the judging, so what difference does it make what I think? That said, here’s what I believe.

I believe that homosexuality is a sin. Yep, I said it. The 5 followers I have will now be un-following me (gasp!). Prepare yourself; there's more. I also believe gluttony is a sin. And sloth. (I’m a good 50 lbs overweight.) I believe taking the name of God in vain is a sin. (Oops.) I am not perfect. I commit LOTS of sins. I try not to and wish I didn’t, but it doesn’t matter what I do, I will always be a sinner. It’s only through the blood of Jesus that my sins are washed away. If someone walked up to me and said, "Oh my God, you're fat! You're going to hell, Lardass!", I would be quite shocked. I would be shaken and reply with witty repartee of some sort. Perhaps, "Oh yeah? So are you, you Taker-of-the-Lord's-Name-in-Vain-er, you!" (stick out tongue) Unlikely to happen right? So why do people think it's ok to say that kind of thing to people who are gay or lesbian? I have no idea. Fred Phelps, I'm talking to you.

Because I believe that it's a sin, I do believe it's something that is innate. I believe we are all born with the tendency to commit every sin - each of us just have ones that we find more tempting than others. Some people are just better at hiding their vices. Or are challenged with ones that are considered to be more acceptable for the mainstream. You know, like greed.

I know there are a lot of people who have experimented with same-sex acts. It's practically expected according to some college-experience movies. It's never been an area of interest for me, personally. Does that mean I don't think it's a real temptation? No. I just have my own demons to fight. Am I just better at winning the battles because I appear to be "normal"? No. I lose. A lot. And when I win? It's rarely due to me. It's all God-given strength.

My problem with standing up for gay rights isn’t that I don’t think everyone deserves equal rights, it’s that by bringing a sin into the equation, it skews the issue. If someone were to commit adultery, then want the world to be on their side because they believe humans aren't wired to be monogamous, people would... well, actually, some people probably would support that. I'm not saying homosexuals shouldn't receive the same legal rights with respect to property ownership and hospital visitation that heterosexual couples have. The right to be married, though... For me, marriage is a more complicated matter. I do believe marriage should be reserved for one man and one woman. Marriage is a religious AND civic act. So I also think that there should be some way for gay couples to achieve the social status/legal rights that go along with marriage. I don't have all the answers. I just know that I don't feel comfortable calling it "marriage" if it's not heterosexual. Doing so feels to me like it's condoning the sinful act. Although I suppose that's what we do when we say someone who is greedy is "acquisitive".

I am not homophobic. I have friends who are gay. I L-O-V-E the show "Modern Family" which depicts a gay couple. I find it hypocritical to think it’s ok to be a bigot when one is also a sinner (and we all are). My job is not to tell homosexuals they are going to hell for being gay. My job is to be the best Christian I can be by sharing God’s love and admit that I’m not perfect, and that I, too, need forgiveness for my sins.  I kind of suck at that job to be honest. But I want to be better at it.

The struggle is that part of asking for forgiveness is repentance. According to Webster, to repent is "to turn from sin and dedicate oneself to the amendment of one's life" or "to feel regret or contrition." I think that's a big reason why mainstreamers feel like they are less sinful than homosexuals. If a gay couple decides to get married, clearly there is no repentance involved. The mainstreamers can go to church and ask God to forgive them for skimming a little money from the till, and promise they won't do it again. Because no one else has to know. Then when they do it again, clearly NOT having turned from this sin, they'll ask for forgiveness again. There's no contrition. It's not really legitimate. But they convince themselves they've been forgiven because they asked. And again, no one else has to know. Kind of hard for no one else to know when you and your partner have to go public about your relationship since no one is buying that you're "just roommates". Some sins are easier to hide than others. But God knows your heart, and you can't hide anything from Him.

So the lesson for today, dear readers, isn't tolerance, it's acceptance. Accept that all of us are different. All of us are flawed. And none of us are worthy of heaven of our own accord. "Judge not, lest ye be judged." Focus on fixing your own flaws, not condemning others for theirs.

Good job!

When we were on our trip to Colorado last week, we stayed with one of my sorority sisters in Castle Rock (halfway between Denver and the Springs). Her husband is in the Air Force and she is a SAHM to a sweet 2.5-year-old girl. She mentioned to me that something that grated on her nerves when she would be at the playground was hearing parents tell their kids, "Good job!" We should praise our kids, though, right? Well, sure. But she's talking about when you say it for every - little - thing. "You're breathing! Good job!"

At first, I said I agreed with her. Over complimenting is a big source of why kids today are so darn egotistical. It's all about them. It's high time we started teaching them the world doesn't revolve around them. And they won't believe us anyway if it's empty praise. I looked good up on my soapbox.

And then, it happened. I heard myself tell our 3-year-old "good job" about ten times in the next five minutes. For stupid stuff. Yikes! Do I really sound like that? All the time? OMG. My friend and I laughed about it. She said she realized she did it more than she thought, too, and had worked at rephrasing it to be more specific, and really thinking before saying anything at all. Um, have we met? I'm not so hot at thinking before speaking. But I'm TRYING. Very hard not to say it. It's become a bit of a joke between DH and me. Whenever one of us says it, we point it out.

Clearly there could be worse things we say to our kids. And it's especially difficult right now because every time we turn around, our 9-mo-old is doing something new, so saying "Good job!" really does apply to her pulling up, taking steps, eating on her own, etc. But saying it to our 3-year-old who has said, "Mommy, Mommy watch me!" when she's jumping to the floor from the couch repeatedly is probably not the best use of praise. And it is really annoying to hear it coming out of your mouth once you've become aware of it.

So what's your "Good job!" phrase you're trying to eliminate from your vocabulary?

Princess Paranoia

I was a tomboy as a kid. I liked my Hot Wheels and Legos, and cringed when I had to play Barbies with my sister. As an adult, I was afraid I would grow up, get married, have a baby girl and have no idea how to play with her. I did get married, but I didn't just have a little girl; I had two. YIKES. Initially I was determined they would not have anything princess related, because all that teaches them is that women can't be happy on their own, and they need a knight in shining armor to rescue them. What a load of crap. Not to mention it just contributes to the Barbie ideal of beauty. I was convinced that a lot of the reason girls have that type of personality is a reflection of the kinds of toys/games/media kids are exposed to so I decided shielding her from that for as long as possible would keep her from being sucked into that mindset.

The first couple of years with S went fine. She got a lot of hand-me-downs with princesses on them, and a dress-up gown, but it didn't really seem to be something that caught her attention. (Another lesson that in nature vs. nurture, nature is often in the lead.) She has very well-rounded interests - Legos, books, babies, trains, singing, Hot Wheels, playing on her swing set, painting, dancing, playing with her mower and her wagon. She loves Hello Kitty and playing with her purse and jewelry, but also Curious George, Sid the Science Kid and Shrek. She has sports paraphernalia for soccer, baseball and golf. Then she started daycare with a sweet little girl who is very girly. You know, the kind who always shows up in adorable outfits with her hair in braids and bows. I'm lucky if I can get S there with clothes on at all, much less matching ones since I let her choose what she wants to wear. And I had to cut her hair into a bob because she won't let me brush it. Her little friend is all about princess stuff. She had a princess-themed bday party in the spring. I thought my fears of S being corrupted were being confirmed when I asked her what kind of party she wanted to have this summer, and she said "Princesses!" My heart sank. But when I asked her who she wanted to have on her cake, she said, "Elmo, Cookie Monster, Grover...." Whew!

Of course I want her to be friends with kids who have other interests, and her friend is such a sweet girl. She is very blessed to have met her. And after having read other blogs about this type of thing, I've decided that if DD goes through an obsession with princesses, it will be ok. Because I will do what a lot of the other posters have suggested - focus on the positive aspects of their characters and let her know that a real princess doesn't need to be rescued by a knight - she can be successful on her own. Fiona in Shrek is a good example. Though she is initially rescued, her fairy-tale idea of being kissed by her savior when he arrives is shattered by the reality of Shrek shaking her awake and telling her to get up. Then when she's abducted by Robin Hood and his thieves, she does some Crouching Tiger,Hidden Dragon/Matrix/Charlie's Angels moves to save herself. And of course the big moral of the story is not to judge a book by its cover. I love how at the end her true self is an ogre which shows that you don't have to have a certain look to be a princess.

I have learned a lot through this experience. Faced some previously unknown prejudices and grown as a person. It still amazes me how much trying to teach my own kids teaches me!

Identity Crisis

We spend our lives reinventing ourselves. As a baby, you first learn your name. When you're a child you identify yourself as "Daughter", "Sister", "Student" and "Friend". As a young adult your beliefs and your occupations lead the way in helping you develop a sense of self - "Christian", "Graphic Designer", "Republican", "Volunteer". Getting married gives you the biggest identity change yet - "Wife". It's such a radical shift that most women change their name, the name you were born with that first defined you. With this new phase, come expectations from yourself and your spouse as to how you will develop into this role. It was a very difficult time for me. I struggled with how to incorporate the elements from my parents' marriage that I wanted to emulate with the contrast of my reality as well as what I imagined my husband expected from me. I finally got a good grasp of that piece of my life when the next identity change happened - becoming a mother. And talk about a transformation!

I LOVE being a mom. It's the most incredible blessing - full of joy, fear, wonder, frustration. It's made me a better wife, a better worker (ok, except when I've been sleep deprived), a better person in general. It has truly changed my identity. My lifestyle changed quite a bit when I got married, but it is much different now. I used to go to happy hour, work late, sleep in on the weekends, take spontaneous trips out of town. When we had our first daughter, I initially felt a little nostalgic when friends would make last minute plans to go to dinner and I would have to decline, but as time went on, it bothered me less. It's not like I wasn't still doing fun things without my family (heaven knows I need to have some time away to regroup and replenish), I just had to plan for them, and I didn't do them as often. And that was perfectly fine. I would reminisce with friends about our crazy single days and I thought of them with fond memories, but that was all.

Then last week, a friend who had been in Mexico two years with the Peace Corps returned home. Plans were made for a night out on the town to welcome him home. The plan was to go on newly available hop-on-hop-off trolley pub crawl around the city. My wonderful husband agreed to stay home with the girls so I could have a night of fun. I was excited to go, but also aware that I wouldn't really be able to fully enjoy the benefits of this activity since the negatives of doing so far outweighed the positives. If I chose to stay out as late as the trolley ran, I would still have to get up at 6:30am since sleeping in is no longer possible. And while being hungover was never fun, doing so with small children would be torture. Also, I wanted to be home to put the babies to bed so I wouldn't be able to meet up with everyone at the beginning. These alterations are typical for outings with my single friends, and I never think twice about it.

But Friday night, I was talking with some of the people who were going out on Saturday night, and the strangest thing happened. This group of friends has evolved over the years as people have moved or married or stopped hanging out for some reason and others have been absorbed into the fold. We were going over the details for Saturday, and I said, "Mama Jenn needs a night off. Party Jenn will be there!" One of the girls said, "Wow, I don't think I've met Party Jenn!" I laughed and realized that was probably true. She'd only been a part of the group for a short time....probably around 2004-ish...wait a minute... that's SIX YEARS. Has Party Jenn really been gone for six whole years?!?!? I was surprised how much this affected me. I was really upset. I started thinking of my single years with more than just a fond remembrance but as a deep loss, as if those were my glory days and the best years of my life had passed. I was determined to show her how fun I could be, consequences be damned.

Saturday night, I went out and truly intended to be home at a reasonable time after a reasonable amount of drinking, but one thing lead to another, and suddenly I realized I'd had too much to drink and would have to stay out longer to sober up so I could drive home. I had a great time seeing friends I hadn't seen in a long time, catching up, and sharing crazy stories with the newer members of the group. I got home at 3:30am - yikes! Three hours later when my girls woke up, I was so excited to see them that I was not nearly as tired as I should have been. And I realized that those single days were fun, but snuggling with my babies early in the morning was just as much fun, and I didn't miss going out nearly as much as I miss them when I'm away. Though Party Jenn still exists and will always be part of me, Mama Jenn is in the forefront now, and I'm so thankful to be at this point in my life.

School District Woes

I grew up in one of the top school districts in the country. I admit it, I'm a total snob about it. When my husband and I were househunting last summer, my one requirement was that we stay in the Shawnee Mission School District for when our babies are old enough to start kindergarten. I begrudgingly agreed to look at Blue Valley schools, but refused to go to Olathe. We found our dream home, and though it wasn't within what I consider to be the best high school lines (Go Raiders!), it is still within SMSD, so I was thrilled. Until I started to find out that the once top-notch program is in a downward spiral and in desperate need of saving. It began with seeing signs on the medians of the bigger streets that said "Save SMSD!". I checked out the website on the signs which led me to more sites with even worse statistics. One of them says:

"...one reporter writes in regard to a Newsweek Ranking of the Nation’s Top Public Schools: 'Some notable absences from the list… the five Shawnee Mission high schools, the former Rolls Royce of suburban Kansas schools.' "

Now I'm questioning my decision. My husband went to Catholic school and hated it (too much religion being forced on him). When we met he swore he would never subject his children to it. But now he's suggesting that as an option. It's tough because even though our school district isn't tops anymore, it's still excellent in comparison to the rest of the country. On one hand, I feel ridiculous even considering spending the money to send our kids to private school - religious or otherwise. But at the same time, to knowingly enroll them in school with the quality continuing to drop seems irresponsible. If it keeps heading in this direction, by the time they are in high school, it really will be one of the worst schools in the country.

But even the other districts that are outshining ours at the moment - Blue Valley and Olathe - are facing the same budget cuts that everyone is in this dire economy. The state has put off cutting school allocations for as long as possible, but now it sounds like one teacher in every grade will be let go in some places. That will be pushing our classes sizes to their limits.

I wanted to know if there was anything I could do to improve the situation, so I kept looking and found this link:

How You Can Help

I'm planning to participate in the ways listed there. If your school district is suffering, do what you can to help. We don't have to sit idly by. Especially if your kids are still too young. Hopefully by the time they are ready for school, with our help, our schools will really be ready for them.

Once a Cheater, Always a Cheater?

Friday, I was chatting with a friend on Facebook about Tiger Woods. That morning he had his first press conference responding to the news that he was having multiple affairs, and we had tuned in. I was only half-listening - I feel like that is between him, his wife, and God, but I know our society makes it everyone's business. It did, however, get me to thinking about things.

My friend has had the misfortune to be on the receiving end of a wife who cheated repeatedly which resulted in their divorce. I cannot imagine. But I am surprised that almost everyone I know has had some experience with unfaithfulness. My friend actually cheated on a girlfriend once when he was young. I never cheated on my significant others, but I was the "other woman" twice. Never with married men, but still, certainly not something I'm proud of. Having a small bit of experience with it, I do see how a crazy drunken fling can happen, or someone can be in a relationship and discover that their true love is another. Especially before marriage. While I don't condone those actions, I can understand them.

But after marriage? I believe, once you make those vows, they are forever. For better or for worse, for drunk times and for sober, for meeting new people and the grass being greener on the other side. Regardless of what comes into your life, you chose that person and they chose you, and you can't just change your mind because circumstances change. Disloyalty while single is decidedly sinful, but it becomes an even greater transgression after marriage.

Considering the number of friends I have who have cheated, been cheated on, or have been the third person, I have heard lots of possibilities for the one-time indiscretion. Usually, I could see how they could rationalize their choices. But what is the motivation behind a repeat offender? Are they bored? Does the fear of getting caught excite them? Is monogamy just not their thing? Are they searching for an outlet for fetishes they're afraid to ask their partners about? Do they feel neglected by their mate? Is, as Tiger claims, sex addiction a real thing, or just a scapegoat for his wrongdoings? I knew a girl who had a long-distance relationship with a guy, and it was just easier to stay his girlfriend, than break up with him. And I think she thought once they were in the same town again, it wouldn't be an issue, they would just be together. But I struggle with the concept of someone like Tiger and my friend's wife - people who choose to get married, the ultimate symbol of fidelity - and then have affairs. If you know you aren't the monogamous type, why put yourself (and your loved one) through that? Why not choose to stay single? Or at the very least, end things after the first transgression?

Another friend suggested that it's because cheaters are selfish and don't care about the other person's feelings as much as they do about their own. To give them a little more credit, maybe they think if they've found the right person they can stay settled down. I guess it comes down to the age old question, once a cheater, always a cheater? What do you think?

H1N1 Resolution

So after weeks of debating with my husband, asking for advice from friends and relatives, and researching what to do about this crazy H1N1 vaccine, I finally decided to leave it up to fate. As a little background, I think that getting immunized for polio, mumps, etc. is very important. I believe not doing so encourages the possibility of these now defunct (in the US) diseases making a return. I think it's important to be aware of the correlation between vaccines and autism, but avoiding the ones with mercury is a better option than not getting vaccinated at this point. However, when it comes to vaccines for the flu and the chicken pox, I'm not a big believer. Yes, those diseases can be deadly. However, it is such a small percentage, that I don't think it warrants it. Sure they're unpleasant to have, but really not that big of a deal in my mind. Plus, especially for the flu which already mutates every year, I fear it contributes to the possibility of a "superbug". I am not a scientist, and I'm sure there are those who think I have done just enough research to be dangerous, but that's where I'm coming from at this point. So with the fear of an H1N1 swine flu pandemic, I initially thought it was being blown out of proportion. Actually I still do, and I wouldn't even have considered getting the vaccine, but the thing is, this year, it's not just about me. I'm 9 months pregnant and mother to a toddler. But even though they've been talking about it for months, there weren't vaccines available, so it was a moot point. I actually hoped they wouldn't be available until after I delivered on November 10th so I wouldn't have to make a decision.

Then on the nightly local news on Tuesday, October 20th, they showed the first batch of vaccines available in northeastern Kansas being dispersed to health care workers in Leavenworth. There had been one other clinic set up for children 6mos - 3 years on the Missouri side of KC a few days before. Other than that, I didn't know of anywhere that had them. I had checked our pediatrician's website, and they had not received their doses yet. My OB hadn't either. And no one I knew had gotten one. So Wednesday afternoon when I decided to make the call to my primary care physician, just to check on when they expected to get them in, I was not prepared when they said, yes, we have them, and as a pregnant patient, you are one of the people on the list. Come in ASAP! So Thursday morning, October 22nd, I headed to the doctor's office feeling confident that it was divine providence that I was getting immunized. As I am such a big fan of needles (see previous posts), while I was there, I was mostly focused on the actual act of the shot, not so much the impact of what it meant.

Until I walked out the door, and I was overwhelmed with regret.

All the doubts I'd had about it came flooding into my mind as I pressed the elevator button. It's going to cause some unknown neurological disorder that we won't know about until the baby is 5, etc. By the time I reached the ground floor, I was almost in tears. But there was no going back. I got to my office, and saw on the cover of Wired magazine that there was an article about vaccines and how important they are. I read it at lunch, and to sum up, basically it said that people who don't get them are idiots. It was definitely on an extreme end of the spectrum, and I certainly didn't agree with all of it, but it did assuage my fears a bit. OK, problem solved, no point in worrying about it anymore, right?

Except for our toddler. What to do for her?

I really didn't want to get it for her. But then I thought what if my husband (who is at the bottom of the list of people who are eligible and so most likely won't be able to be vaccinated at all) gets it, and brings it home, and I've left her vulnerable to it, and the worst case scenario plays out. Again, back and forth with my thoughts. Checked the ped's website again. They'd gotten a batch in, but were out again. Check back next Tuesday. So I left it in God's hands again.

Halloween morning, my mother-in-law called my husband and told him she was waiting in line at the Johnson County health center to get the vaccination. Because she would be around a newborn, she was eligible, and so was he. So he decided to go check out the line after he finished running his errands. S and I were out running our own errands, and he called when we were across the street at the car wash to say we could come over and get the vaccine for our daughter. So we went. There were only 1200 doses available. The line at 8am had been out the door, through the parking lot, around the corner and down the street. It was 10:30am by now, and the line was only to the back of the parking lot, but still hundreds of people had gone through, so how many doses did they have left? The couple behind me was talking about it, and the man said he wouldn't be too disappointed if they ran out. I told him I agreed, and we started talking about our indecisiveness about whether or not to get immunized.

After waiting in line for an hour, we completed the paperwork for my husband and our 2-year-old, and were initially told my husband was ineligible because there was not a newborn in the house. I told her I was due in 10 days, and she told us to go ahead. Then we got to the station, and the nurse said 10 days didn't count, he couldn't get one, but S could. I started to panic - I didn't want her to get it if he didn't. I felt like this was a sign that it was the wrong decision. She called the supervisor over, who gave the ok for DH, though, and then it all happened so fast, I didn't really have time to question it again.

So after weeks of worry, and some post-decision regret, I've come to terms with it. There's no going back. All we can do now is pray that it was the right decision and none of us suffer any ill consequences. And I'm sure when the girls are teenagers, we'll look back and laugh, and think, why were we so worked up about something so insignificant? At least that's how I'm hoping things will turn out.

Pregnancy Dreams

As a tossing/turning, blanket-hogging, snoring sleeper, I often remember my dreams. As a general rule, even though I know who the people are in the dreams, their faces are blurred so I can't really see them. And while I've had some pretty hot ones about my husband, since we've been together, I haven't had any steamy dreams starring anyone else.

Until I got pregnant this time.

It's weird because I remember having vivid dreams when I was expecting before, but not like the ones I've had the last couple of weeks. With my first pregnancy, the dreams were mostly baby-related. And while I did notice they were more detailed, I still didn't see faces. I don't think I've dreamt about the baby directly this time, but I have started seeing faces.

Last night I had a dream about a doctor appointment I had this morning. In the dream, I woke up late and a friend was driving me to the appointment for some reason. We had to stop at another friend's house on the way. When we got there, her kids were wearing boxing gloves and practicing punching through a hole they had cut out in the front door. Odd enough in itself, but the strangest part for me was that their faces were so clear in my mind - I'm talking, crisp, HDTV-quality. Her husband told us his wife had gone to Bed, Bath and Beyond, so we were talking to him about coming back to see her later, when I asked what time it was. It was 10 minutes after my appointment was scheduled. Right then I woke up.

Supposedly we can all decipher our dreams ourselves. I guess I can understand why I had that dream about being late, then. Our toddler had woken up around 6:00 am, so I had gone in to try to get her back to sleep for another hour and ended up falling asleep myself. Subconsciously I knew I couldn't hear my alarm in her room, so I had no idea what time it was. Therefore, the panicked end to my dream.

But the one I had last week, I can honestly say, I have no idea what its origins are. I had my first sex dream about another man since I've been married. I dreamt I was getting in the shower with this incredibly hot Latin guy. He sort of reminded me of Enrique Iglesias, but with less bushy eyebrows and even sexier. He was definitely not someone who exists in real life. And I was just me, 8 months pregnant, but not all that self-conscious about it considering I was naked with some man I don't know. Ironically, our shower is a stall shower that I can barely fit into with my big belly, yet there was enough room for both of us, and the love-making was off the charts. I remember thinking, though, that he was a terrible kisser! And I knew he wasn't my husband, but I didn't think there was anything wrong with us being together. I woke up very freaked out, but also incredibly in the mood and wishing my husband was still home.

Having been pregnant once before, and reading everything in print and on the web I could to prep for that delivery, I knew there are studies showing how dreams are more intense and stranger than usual during pregnancy. Our hormones cause us to dream more often and for those dreams to be more graphic. And waking up even more frequently due to typical discomforts help us remember them better than when we aren't pregnant. But since the first time around my dreams were vivid in a different way, I find myself feeling out of my element again. I don't think I'm alone in my experiences (am I??), but it still takes some getting used to. I still feel a little guilty about my new-found Latin friend, but not so much that I would mind if he showed up again…

Blood Tests

When my husband and I started talking about getting pregnant the first time, I was, of course, excited, but also somewhat apprehensive like most people. The biggest drawback for me wasn't labor since I didn't really know what that would be like. It was the knowledge that there would be blood tests, an IV, an epidural (my low pain tolerance supercedes my fear of needles), and possibly other ways in which the medical professionals would find to wield their pointy little objects of torture at me.

I know no one likes having blood drawn. I mean, I've heard people say they don't mind it, but that's as close as it gets to enjoying it. But I would say I have a higher than average aversion to it. On a scale of 1-10, 1 being people who actually watch the procedure and think "Cool!", and 10 being people who get hysterical and pass out, I'm about an 8.5. I've never actually passed out, but I have had my vision turn into a black tunnel and narrow down to about a two-inch circle, until they laid me down and gave me some juice. I don't like needles in general, but a blood draw is the paramount. That said, here's a list of 10 things I'd rather do than have my blood taken:

10. Get a filling at the dentist.
9. Work overtime.
8. Be stuck in a plane on the runway for an hour. (Did I mention I'm somewhat claustrophobic?)
7. Have an annual well-woman exam.
6. Be a bridesmaid who has to wear a hideous dress with shoes that give me blisters for the whole day and evening.
5. Be woken up by my toddler every two hours in the night.
4. The day after aforementioned sleepless night, be forced to watch "Ben-Hur" and "Lawrence of Arabia" back to back and not be able to sleep during them.
3. Clean all 3 three of our bathrooms.
2. Deal with a mouse that's been caught in a trap. And isn't dead, yet.
1. Get a tetanus shot.

Because of this, when I failed my glucose test with the first pregnancy and then had to do the three hour test where they took my blood, not just once, but FOUR TIMES in one day, I was determined to pass with this second pregnancy. Unfortunately, things were a little crazy in our household this spring and summer, so I was a little distracted and didn't manage to monitor my food intake to the degree I knew it would require to ensure passing the test. So I prepared myself for the inevitable call letting me know I'd failed. What I didn't expect was to find out that in addition to my glucose being high, I had a low platelet count. The nurse just mentioned it in passing and said they'd check it again with the three hour test, so I didn't think too much of it at the time. But when they called with the final glucose results, I found out I passed the three hour test again, just like with the first pregnancy, but my platelet count was still down, so they wanted me to see a hematologist. This was a bit disconcerting.

Disconcerting? Ok, let's be honest, I was having a pregnant/hormonal/emotional day, and freaked myself out to the point that I had to walk out of the office to the parking lot where I bawled like a baby on the phone to one of my closest friends. Thoughts were flying through my head, "Platelets? Quick think - what do those do? Something with clotting I think. I already know I have to have a C-section - I'm going to hemorrhage and die on the operating table! We haven't finished our wills - I have to make sure to get that done ASAP. I'll never get to meet our sweet baby girl! I'll miss seeing our toddler grow up! What a burden this will be on my poor husband..." Oh, good grief! The funny thing about having these kinds of nutty moments that can happen during pregnancy and postpartum, is that sometimes you have a surreal out-of-body experience where you can see yourself saying or thinking all of these things and think, "Why are you being such an idiot?", but you can't stop yourself from doing it either.

After I had my outburst and my friend helped calm me down, I pulled myself together, went back inside to work, and finished out the day. By the time I got home and told my husband, I was able to do so calmly. I know he appreciated my forethought in having my breakdown with a girlfriend instead of him - he's dealt with his fair share of these hormone-induced, crazy tirades. This week I went to the hematologist and found out that low platelets are not uncommon during pregnancy. They need to be monitored, but rarely end up being cause for much concern. Oh, ok. Whew.

Wait a minute... monitored... meaning more blood tests? Oh, brother...

A Two-Year-Old's Favorite Place

I know, you're thinking, it's probably the park, or Chick-Fil-A, or Grandma and Papa's. Oftentimes it is. But if you want to know where her absolute favorite place to go is, it's our local grocery store, Hy-Vee. She LOVES Hy-Vee. I mean, with a capital "L". She sings songs about it, will randomly tell me that she likes it, and asks if we are going to go there every...single...day. There's one by my parents' house and one by ours, so when we drive by them, she says, "My Hy-Vee" or "Papa's Hy-Vee". I guess I can understand the draw to a certain extent - they have free cookies for kids (thank you Daddy for introducing her to that!), and samples, which helps me steer her away from the cookies to the healthier fruits and veggies. There are fun carts to ride in that look like a school bus (another of her favorite things), a police car, or a race car, and now they even have little miniature carts for kids to push themselves. That is her preference which is ok when we only have a couple of things to get.

It's great because I actually like Hy-Vee the best out of the stores available because they have "New and Expectant Mom" parking spots, and the best overall products and prices. Other stores are better for certain things, and if that's all I need, I'll go to them, but if I've got my big list for the week, Hy-Vee is where I head.

I've decided I need to try to catch her singing about Hy-Vee and videotape it, and send it to them. She'd make a great commercial.

The Forgotten Holiday

No, I'm not talking about Labor Day which just passed. It's Thanksgiving, one of my favorite holidays. I love Christmas and Halloween, too, just like most people, but those two have gotten so ridiculously commercialized and out of proportion that Thanksgiving is flat-out ignored which irritates me. I listen to Christmas music occasionally throughout the year, and I was ok with it when they started playing it the day after Thanksgiving. But now there are some stations that start the day after Halloween! Are you kidding me?

On the other hand, it's kind of nice that Thanksgiving hasn't gotten as out of control as those other two end-of-the-year holidays. I know some people who just turn off their lights and hide or go to the movies on Halloween so they don't have to mess with it. And so many people dread Christmas, there are a slew of books and movies about it like "Skipping Christmas". Thanksgiving has at least managed to avoid that negativity so far. Here are some of the reasons I love it:

1. It's message isn't completely lost.
Granted, a lot of people focus on the food and the football and the big sale the next day, but most people still remember, if not always acknowledge, the point behind it. Maybe it's easier since it's all in the name - it's a time to give thanks, count our blessings, be grateful. And in tough economic times like these, I think the purpose actually gets more attention and isn't overshadowed by concerns about having to spend a lot of money to make it a big celebration like Christmas can be.

2. I get to see all my family without as much stress as Christmas.
I actually don't get stressed about Christmas. I love it and try to remember the reason for the season. But others do get stressed, and it makes it more difficult for them to relax and enjoy the time we're together. That isn't the case with Thanksgiving. In fact, because there aren't really enough of us on my side of the family to warrant an entire turkey feast, last year we decided to buy a pre-made one at the local grocery store. A traditionalist at heart, I cringed at the idea initially, but since we've had to celebrate at my parents' house in the past because ours was too small, I let it go. We still made some favorite family side dishes, and I was pleasantly surprised about how well everything turned out. And so it was even less stressful than usual because no one was getting up at the crack of dawn to start cooking.

3. Ok, fine, you got me - the food!
I LOVE Thanksgiving food! What's not to like? Turkey, stuffing, potatoes, green bean casserole, and, of course, pumpkin pie! Granted, in this day and age, you can pretty much get that kind of meal any time of year. But I never actually have it any other time. It's still special.

4. The games
Not the football. Well, some of it is ok. I like football - but one game a day is plenty for me. I don't mind having it on in the background. Kind of like starting the day with the Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade. To watch the entire thing is a bit much, but it's nice to have it on while preparing food and getting ready. The same is true for the football games. After dinner, my side of the family likes to play board games, and we'll have football on the TV. The board games are what I look forward to. It's nostalgic and fun, and also not something I do much during the rest of the year.

And this year, I'm looking forward to celebrating at our house for the first time. Since we moved, we now actually have a dining room. Although, I will probably go with the pre-made meal again just this once since we'll have an extra special reason to celebrate, the birth of our second daughter. I'm scheduled to have a C-section on November 10th, so we'll be even more thankful on the 26th when we sit down to dinner and say Grace.

When the Child Becomes the Parent

My dad has had some major health issues for most of my life. He had his first heart attack when I was 14, triple bypass when I was 16, stents put in when I was in college, developed Type II diabetes before I got married, and in the last few years they discovered that his hemoglobin levels have dropped inexplicably, so he has to have injections and infusions every 6 months or so to maintain them. And at the first of this year, he had to have surgery on his eye for leaking blood vessels. Because it’s been like this for so long, it kind of becomes part of you, and isn’t something we dwell on except when it’s brought to the forefront by another development or a relapse or hospital visit.

For my mother, though, changes in her life have made it more of a focal point through the years. When Dad first had heart problems, she was busy with work and dealing with two teenage daughters. Then we left for college, so things slowed down a bit, but she was still working. A few years ago, she got laid off. About six months later, Dad started running out of energy. It got to the point where he literally could not get out of the chair one day. Mom thought he was going to die right there in the living room. Initially I thought it was good that she wasn’t working then because it gave her time to really take care of him. But soon he was back to work. And she was left at home with nothing to do all day but think. And worry. She started having problems with her short-term memory.

I feel terribly because I didn’t take it that seriously at the beginning. I was pregnant with our first daughter and busy with work and caring for my own husband and home. After our daughter was born, Mom and Dad were able to watch her for us while I worked – what a blessing! I thought that would help since it would give Mom something else to think about. It did, a little. But because both of my parents are older – almost 70 – neither of them have the greatest memories. Since Mom has this issue, Dad always assumes she’s wrong about things, even though sometimes she’s right, and he’s wrong. (Typical man!) This has badly shaken her confidence. I thought to rebuild it, she needed to do something outside the house – get a part time job, volunteer, join a bridge club – to build her back up. But they only had one car until a couple of weeks ago, so when Dad was working at his part time job, Mom didn’t have any way to go anywhere. And it’s become clear that her memory problems have gotten worse. Not only do I tell her something that she immediately forgets, and I have to repeat several times, but she’s starting to lose her common sense about things.

We are expecting again and just moved into a new home, so she and my sister painted the nursery for us. My parents flipped houses when I was growing up, so painting is something Mom is quite used to, though it’s been awhile since she’s done it. Because the plan was to do the top third of the walls in white and the bottom part in green, I had told my sister that she would probably have to monitor Mom, or she’d forget what went where, but both of us thought it wouldn’t be that big of a deal. So what if she goes over the line and we have to repaint a couple of spots? Mom will feel good about herself for helping. And it did happen a few times - no big deal. What did concern me was one time when my sister left for a few minutes, she came back to find that below the green part of the wall, Mom had painted the baseboard green as well.

The latest incident happened this week. When they got a second vehicle a couple of weeks ago, they decided to move our daughter’s car seat into it since it was a van and easier to get her in and out of than their car. So Wednesday, Dad drove the van to the police station, and Mom followed him with our daughter in the car. After they got done switching the seat, they started back home. Since Mom hasn’t driven in some time, she’s not very good at directions. Dad lost her at a stoplight, and then he couldn’t find her. She wasn’t at home. He called me in a panic asking me to come get our daughter from him so he could go find Mom. I was a little worried, but figured, she’s still got her long-term memory – she knows their address. I thought she’d probably be able to find her way home, but with the recent painting issue, I started to doubt her, too. Dad was beside himself. About ten minutes later, before I could get there to get our daughter, he called back saying she’d gotten home ok. What a relief for all of us.

It’s weird feeling like I need to monitor everything my parents do like I do our toddler. As a man, Dad’s way of reacting to his fear is to get upset with her. She’s starting to get sick of it, so she argues back. With their bickering, I feel like a referee at times – how they must have felt when we were kids and fought. And I worry about their health, as I know they worried about mine – I was only 4lbs 5ozs when I was born. I’ve started going to their doctor appointments when there are issues. I worry when they drive anywhere. Dad’s eyesight isn’t great, even with the surgery he had, and Mom clearly has problems getting lost. I know they always worried about me being on the roads as a teen, or when I would drive back and forth between Kansas City and Colorado for college. I know that the day is coming when one of them will be gone and the other will not be able to live in their house alone. But they also won’t be ready for a nursing home, so I’ve already talked to my husband about the probability that they’ll need to stay with us. We joke about it being like on “The King of Queens”.

We are at that stage in life when we’re starting to transition to another new relationship with our parents. First, they were the guardians, and we were their dependents. As we grew into adults, we became peers. And now we’re beginning that shift to us being responsible for them. It’s challenging, but being a new(ish) mom, I have a deeper understanding of the sacrifices they made for me, and want to take care of them as well as they did me. What better way to thank them for all they have done?

To Tattoo or Not To Tattoo?

For me this was a question with an easy answer – heck no. I have a major fear of needles and a low pain tolerance. It has never once sounded like a good idea to me to get a tattoo. I think they can be pretty, and I understand why some people would want one, but my fears have prevented me from ever seriously considering it.

I do, however, have several friends who have them. I have gone with a couple of them to get their ink done. Which has prompted me to ponder what I would get and where I would get it if I were ever to resolve my issues. Here I stumble upon more roadblocks. First, what? Tattoos are forever. (At least without incurring a lot of cost and even more pain to have them lasered off.) What symbol could I get that I would still want as part of my saggy 80-year-old body? My loves in life have changed a lot over the years. What if I’d gotten a Superman symbol when I was obsessed with Jon Bon Jovi? Or a pointe shoe for dance? Or my first boyfriend’s name (who I just knew I was going to marry)? Or even the more permanent figures in my life, my husband’s or our daughters’ initials? So the image itself isn’t even something I can decide on, at least at this point in my life.

As for where, yikes, that’s an even scarier question. Even when I was younger and skinny, I knew to avoid my midsection since I wanted to have children. I’m pretty modest, so I wouldn’t want it near any of my privates, either. And they say it hurts the most close to the bone, so my back didn’t seem like a good option. Plus you couldn’t see it. And what’s the point of getting one you can’t see? Ok, so the torso is out. Head? No way to hide it when I want to be discreet. Back of the neck? Same problems as the back. Hands and feet? Too bony and too hard to conceal when need be. What about arms? Again with needing a discreet option, I would need it to be able to be covered by a shirt – not just long sleeves, either, because in the summer, that would be really obvious, not to mention hot. So upper arms/shoulders. A reasonable possibility! Although it seems a little too manly to have one on my bicep. What about the legs? Back to the same issue of needing to be able to be covered, the thighs would have to be the choice. Let me just say that if I had chosen to get a tattoo on either my upper arm or my thigh, it would now be stretched out. I would never have anticipated the weight fluctuations I experienced in the last decade when I was younger and in the mindset of considering a tattoo. In retrospect, it’s a good thing I have those fears to keep me from making what could have been a huge mistake.

So why is this even a topic of discussion for me when I clearly have decided opinions about it? Because the other day, my boss’s daughter got a tattoo, and it reminded me that someday, I’ll have to have this discussion with our daughters. My boss’s daughter is a senior in high school, and because she’s technically old enough to get the tattoo without his permission, there’s not really anything he could have done to stop her. However, they have a good relationship and had dialogued about it for several months before she got it. On one hand, I think, that’s so cool! On the other, I think, no WAY would I allow one of our daughters to get a tattoo! Of course, the key is that she talked to him about it. She could have just run off and done it secretly. I’d like to think that when our girls are big enough to contemplate these kinds of things, we will have taught them to make good decisions and provided a safe haven of open communication so they know they can (and should) come to us about these kinds of things. That’s not to say I wouldn’t advise against it. But at the very least, I could recommend the thigh/upper arm locale!

Terrible Two's and Tantrums - Nature Vs. Nurture

Oh, the joys of this stage! For us, the “terrible two's” actually really got going at about 18 months, although our precious baby girl's first tantrum was when she was 4 months old (seriously???).

For me, the most difficult part about the “terrible two's” is how to handle those tantrums. I've read all the advice, and I know I should ignore it or put her in time out or just wait it out. I know it's best to try to head them off by making sure she's feeling like we're spending enough time together, she's getting enough rest, making sure she's had enough to eat, etc. but I still struggle with it. Unfortunately, it feels like nothing works, but it does make it a little easier to know I'm not the only one with a kid I adore but who I secretly want to briefly disown at these times. Certainly not a thought I expected to have when I envisioned motherhood!

In that respect, having a child has been more than I expected - more exasperating, more fun, more frustrating, more joyful, more heart-wrenching, more fulfilling. It has also given me more empathy and knocked me off of my When-I-Have-A-Kid-She'll-Never pedestal. I think the biggest surprise has been that it has opened up my mind in so many ways. As we grow and age, we learn things and file them away in categories in our brains to make life simpler, but narrower. Watching a child start learning from the beginning, all those things we once knew and decided weren't important, or we had made a decision about, and forgot the other options, are back on the table. One of issues (I thought) I had pretty well ironed out for myself was the old nature vs. nurture debate.

When I was in high school and college, I took Intro to Psychology, I read my Freud. I actually have a friend who's an identical twin who was adopted by a family separately from her sister, and they've had studies done on them. Through all this I determined that while there are certainly good arguments for both sides, the environment plays a slightly larger role in the personality department, including temperament. I've done a complete 180 since we had our daughter. When she had that first tantrum, though I was sleep-deprived and had spent a bit of time crying with her when she was colicky, I had not raised my voice or been angry in front of her yet. This was clearly not something she had learned from us. Well, then maybe it wasn't really a tantrum, I mean, what baby has a tantrum at that age? At first I was taken aback by the thought, too - surely she was just colicky. But no, after a minute or two, it was very clear - our little redhead was definitely having a tantrum.

Knowing my own (also redheaded) temperament, and that of the rest of my family, her surprise tantrum started to explain things a bit. My dad and I are both hotheaded. I remember as a kid having screaming matches with him ending in doors slamming as we went our separate ways to cool off. But when we had calmed down and rejoined the living room, we would apologize when needed and move on. My mom and my sister are more stewers who, when upset, are quiet and short with their answers, but take much longer to really stop being angry. I think because growing up I was more of a Daddy's girl and my sister was closer to my mom, I thought a lot of that was learned. And I'm sure a fair amount of it was - if I had been adopted by two mellow parents, I probably would have managed to control my temper earlier in life. But seeing our baby girl enraged at such a young age, I realized that more of it is innate than I had thought. Maybe the idea that redheads have tempers isn't so much because they are redheaded, but because they are genetically predisposed to have short tempers in equal proportion to the odds of their hair color being red?

Regardless of the genetics behind it, the tantrums are a trial for us, as for any parents. But witnessing her tantrums, and struggling to stay calm and not overreact to them, brings those faded memories of my own angry times to the surface. And that combined with my newly revised opinion about nature's role in her temperament has helped me to have a more understanding perspective. It's also testing my own anger management and providing a learning opportunity for me - as most parenting issues do! At this point, when she's having a tantrum, I just try to give her space and time to get it out of her system. And I'm working on teaching her words for her feelings and how to handle them appropriately. It's very difficult, and I don't feel like we're making any progress. But I also realize that I need to give it time for her to start understanding these concepts. I know it was many years before I was (better) able to control my temper. That's a depressing thought in some ways (dreading the inevitable teen years!), but encouraging in the sense that I know that through the counterpoint of nurturing, it's not an permanent character flaw; we will be able to help her corral it and use it as a strength. And for me, I just try to hold on to the small signs of progress, like how I've been telling her for 6 months not to throw things in mid-tantrum, and now sometimes she won't. Other than that, I just pray for patience and remind myself that this, too, shall pass...

We're Not Homeless Anymore!

After two weeks of negotiations, we FINALLY will be homeowners again!! They agreed to pay for the chimney repairs in full (they had come back initially offering to pay half) as well as take care of the other things. We take possession on the 1st and plan to move on the 8th. It turned out to be a blessing in disguise that the first house didn't work out - this is the perfect house for us. We're so excited!

That was our happy news last night, but this morning we had kind of a rough start. S woke up at 5:30 (ugh!), and I felt that her bed was wet, so I changed her diaper (in the dark so it ended up being on backwards) and laid down with her and tried to get her back to sleep. She was squirmy and wanted to take her shirt off. Finally at 6am I was tired and frustrated and gave up. Pause for bad mommy moment - I turned the light on and my poor baby had a huge rash with blisters all over her back to halfway down her bottom, on a shoulder, on her forehead, on the back of her left thigh. Here I was irritated with her for not going to back to sleep when she was itchy and uncomfortable! I felt terrible and was a little worried since I didn't know what was wrong exactly. I've never had poison ivy or poison oak, and I was little when I had hives so I didn't know if that was it or not. DH thought it was hives, and we waited til his mom got up at 6:30am (she was a nurse), to ask her. She thought it was hives, too, and by the then it was clearing up quite a bit. So I called the dr. office and left a message for them to let me know if I should bring her in or if there was something I should give her, but by 7:30am it was almost all gone. So I took her to the sitter's and we tried to figure out if she'd eaten anything new. She hadn't, but she had had a few allergenic things - eggs, shrimp and strawberry jam - so we're going to keep those out of her diet for a week or so and then reintroduce them one at a time. My MIL and I were also wondering if it might be the laundry detergent since it was all over her. But we've been using it for 3 weeks, so I would think it would have showed up already. Maybe not. The dr. office said to give her some Benadryl if it was bothering her but not to worry as long as she didn't run a fever.

As for baby number two, I had a dr. appt. today, and R was kicking while I was waiting, but when it was time to listen with the heartbeat monitor, we couldn't find her. So the dr. moved me to a room with an ultrasound machine and we saw her then. Dr. N told me to tell R not to be such a pain in the ass next time. :) I told her I'd give her a little lecture before my next appt. :) I love my OB. She's very direct about everything and doesn't sugar coat it, but always tries to do everything possible to benefit the patient whether it's popular or not. When I had S, I was allowed to eat right away and do other things that are not usually done with C-section patients. The nurses gave us the impression that she's a bit of a renegade. She's had C-sections, too, so I think that helps that she knows what we're going through and can be a real advocate for us.

New House/Old House

I've been waiting to post until we found out for sure about our new house, but that's still in limbo. The day of the inspection there were probably 50 things listed (of course), but only two fairly small things we planned to ask them to resolve - an electrical and a plumbing problem, maybe $500 at the most. But the inspector wanted someone with more expertise in chimneys to look at the fireplace, so we had to wait for that. Sunday we found out that the house failed the radon testing, so it needs to have a mitigator installed. That will be around $1,000. Then yesterday the chimney guy told us it would be about $2,500 to fix it. So we went back to the seller asking for the radon mitigator, chiminey repair and plumbing repair (we decided to take care of the electrical ourselves). Waiting to hear back. Hoping we can reach a middle ground.

Today I found out some sad news about an old house I lived in - the Theta house in Ft. Collins. Apparently it's going to be torn down. It wasn't that attractive a house really, more functional than frivolous, not as sorority-girlish. But that didn't bother me, because inside were all my friends. So many great memories of hanging out in the back PJ playing Life, sliding down the stairs on kitchen trays, watching NBC's Thursday night Must See TV (which was coined in that era - Friends, Seinfeld and ER) in the front PJ, laying out on the deck, formal Monday night dinners in the kitchen followed by meetings in the chapter room. I could go on and on. I'm sad I won't be able to take S and R there when they get older and show them where I experienced Greek life. It was such an integral part of my incredible college adventure.

Independence Day

Since the 4th of July landed on a Saturday this year, we were able to have Friday off which made for a nice long weekend. Friday, I took S to get her haircut. It was only her second time going so I took her back to Shear Madness since they are set up for little ones. The chairs are little cars that the kids can play in and each station has a tv so they can watch cartoons. She was fine when we got there, but then a little boy who was about 3 or 4 was screaming bloody murder and sitting on his mom's lap and she was pinning him down. I just don't have the desire to torture my child for 15 minutes. He can just have long hair. She was pretty nervous about how upset he was, so I told our stylist if she got too fussy, we'd just call it quits. But she was so good! I was very proud of her. She even let the stylist put her hair in pigtails. They only lasted about an hour, but it was too cute.

Saturday my mom, my mother-in-law, S and I all went to Lenexa's parade. S seemed to enjoy it. That night DH and I went with his best friend and his wife to the movies. We saw The Hangover which was a little vulgar, but hilarious. I didn't think they could keep the story from getting stale, but it never did. After it was over, I reminded DH that that was why he didn't get to have his bachelor party in Vegas and thanked his friend again for being such a trustworthy Best Man.

Sunday we stopped by our old neighbor's house. She had gone to Barcelona the week we moved so we wanted to see photos from her trip. We had left our trash cans for her to put out and needed to pick them up as well. It was a nostalgic trip. Poor S kept wanting to go next door and play in our old backyard, but I just had to keep telling her we didn't live there anymore. She didn't understand. I'll be glad when we're in a new home, and she will feel like she belongs there.

Speaking of which, I've been trying not to get excited about it, but we put a bid on a house last week and the inspection is tomorrow. It's only 5 blocks from the old one (different subdivision, different builder), so still close to my friend's house (bonus!) and only a couple of blocks from a girl at work which will be nice. It's actually a center hall floorplan which I love - one of the first homes we looked at had it but it was on a lot that had a steep front drive and front yard - too steep to play in. I had said to our realtor, if we could just find this house on a different lot. Found it! Through the negotiating, we are getting to keep the dining room table and chairs, china cabinet and the china! It was so funny because when I had looked at the house, I had mentioned to my mom that I really liked their taste and jokingly wondered if they'd leave it furnished. We don't have a formal dining room table or a china cabinet, so we needed to get them anyway. DH and I both liked the desk and bookcases in the den, too, but that wasn't part of the deal. :) Anyway, I'm praying it goes well, and we can start planning the move. That's a whole other story...

A few S notes: the other day she was eating (cantaloupe, I think?) and she it was "delicious". I was taken aback by such a big word being said by her. She amazes me daily. Yesterday she was eating some dry cereal and dropped a piece on the floor. I told her I'd get it and she said, "No, me get!" At this age, she has no fear of eating off the floor, so I told her she could get it but she had to put it in the trash. She said "Kiss it?" I was like, uh, ok. So she gave the little oatmeal square a hug and a kiss and threw it away. I was cracking up.

Sleeping started to get better - she slept well Friday night for the first time - 7:30pm - 7am without any interruption - hallelujah!!! Saturday I was worried we'd ruin it by going to the movie and leaving her with my in-laws, but they said she only fussed about 10 minutes, so we had another 11-11 1/2 hour night. Yes! Sunday night to Monday morning was going well until the neighbor let his German Shepherds out at 5:30am and let them bark for 10 minutes straight. I could hear them through the baby monitor it was so loud. So she was up at 6am, but still did pretty well. But last night, she fussed and called for me around 5, and I went in to console her. She wanted me to lay down with her, and I did, but after about 15 minutes she was asking for Daddy. So I got him to lay in the other twin bed, and laid back down with her. She was tossing and turning and talking and not settling down, so at 6am we all just got up. So tired....Something she started saying a little while ago, that just melts me is "Mama hold you". It's torture though when she's needing to go to sleep, and I leave the room and she starts screaming it. Breaks my heart. I can't imagine loving another baby as much as her, but I know my heart will grow when R gets here. Can't wait for both of our girls to be together!

How come they don't do PSAs anymore?

I guess they do, they're just more subtle. It used to be so obvious - the fried egg, "This is your brain on drugs", or "I learned it by watching you!" for example. And they were on after prime time shows with actors from those shows, like "21 Jump Street". Now the anti-drug commercials are less memorable. At least in my opinion.

Growing up in KS, one of the Public Service Announcements from the late 70s/early 80s that was on every spring and summer was about tree climbing. A boy in a tree says this:

I've been climbing trees all my life, but not trees near overhead lines. 'Cause if you touch one of those lines, or your weight makes a branch touch one of those lines, that electricity will come right to you. And that can hurt. It may even kill you. And climbing utility poles is really dumb. So, remember, always look up before climbing, and stay out of trees near overhead lines.

The best part was that at the beginning, it said at the bottom of the screen the kid's name (Billy something), and "Professional Tree Climber". Really? Professional? And how sad is it for today that back then that was the most serious issue that needed to be addressed. The world has certainly changed.

The funny thing is that almost everyone from around here still knows that commercial. Whenever someone says "That can hurt," instinctively I'll reply, "It may even kill you." Unfortunately, hardly anyone I work with is from here, so that line is lost on most of them. I've been searching the Internet for that commercial figuring it must be on You Tube or somewhere, but no luck. Today I saw that a guy mentioned it in his blog. He is from Oklahoma, so apparently it extended beyond Kansas and Missouri. Anyway, that's my random thought for the day.