The Will Wheaton Effect

I've been told I'm not posting enough. I'm sorry. To all three of you.

25 weeks pregnant. I'm feeling pregnant now. Mr. Adventure felt Sean Connery move the other night. He was pretty excited. I'm also fatter and feel taller. Does having boys make you taller?

My next appointment with the midwife is the glucose screen. She gave me the drink to take home with me and told me to drink it on my way in to the office and note the time I finish. I learned that the gestational diabetes screen can also indicate diabetes likeliness later on in life. The thing that sucks is, if you fail the one hour test, you have to do a three hour, fasting test. I think it's super rude to make a pregnant lady not eat for that long. I have a hard enough time not stabbing people when I'm well-fed and well-rested, so there's that.

My friend who was almost as pregnant as me last time around pointed out how both of our pregnancies dragged on last time, but this one seems to be going by super fast. And it's true. Shit's crazy. I have a meeting with the midwife in mid-June, we'll do another three weeks later (to get me on the schedule she wants for appointments) then I go to every other week, then every week, then baby.

I'm pretty excited I have another friend who is almost as pregnant as me this time around, too. (And three very friendly acquaintances, one of which is due with a boy the same day as me!). My friend is having a little girl and I'm working on arranging a marriage for Sean Connery (the baby, not the actor, obviously).

Also, Mr. Adventure wants me to write a letter to Vin Diesel, asking Vin Diesel to come out and play D&D with him and a few friends in exchange for naming Sean Connery Vin Diesel. But I haven't done it yet. Because doing things is hard. And I'm a notorious procrastinator. Which is why I really need a fancy job in a think tank or something. I want to get paid for ideas that other people carry out.

Chumbercules is 20 months old. He can count to chicken. And he can count up from fun. I went to a clothing swap for my local mom's group and scored him a gator vest. He calls it a dinosaur and roars when he wears it. he can say the words "I" and "Love" and "You," but when he puts them together, it comes out, "I luboo." I call it the Will Wheaton effect.

I had to get another ultrasound and brought Chumby with me. We are trying to prepare him as much as possible for the idea that he is going to have a little brother. We go to the library a lot and have a couple books. His favorite is Hello in There: A Big Sister's Book of Waiting. I change the end to "I'm finally a big brother!" Instead of sister. I think he likes it because it has little tabs that you unfold that reveal a growing baby. I need to get him a pop-up book or something soon. He'll totally love it.

We've also been going to the park a lot since the weather has been nice and he is getting so independent at play. He also tries to keep up with the big kids. (You know. The three year olds!) He's a quarter Viking, so he's huge, and I guess his language is super developed, so most people think he's older. I've learned to guess the ages of children based on whether they have a neck and how long that neck is. It's way easier than cutting off a leg and counting the rings. And more socially acceptable.

I've also become a bit of a yeller lately. And I hate it. So I've stopped and gone back to Janet Lansbury's RIE website and have been reading up on setting limits without yelling.  It's getting easier the more I practice. Like at the park yesterday, I told Chumby that he can't take a stick on the play equipment because it isn't safe, but that I would hold the stick for him while he played. He was very upset about it when I first took it away and I said, "I know it's frustrating to have things taken away from you, but I will hold it right here when you're ready for it." And he took two breaks from the toy to play with his stick. And I only had to take it away from him again one of those two times, repeating again how it isn't safe to bring it on the toy. The third time he gave it to me after I asked for it. Toddlers are little people. And, most of the time, people don't care about you solving the shitty and frustrating things that happen in their life, they just want to not  feel alone for a moment. They want acknowledgement that the situation or event is super shitty and that their feelings, no matter what those feelings are, are completely valid.

I also like I Think I Know Why You're Yelling, and I think I need to take more time for myself before I get to the burned-out, I-don't-give-a-fuck stage. I'm not as consistent with limits when I'm tired and cranky and hungry and not taking care of myself, and if you're out of control, I imagine it's extra scary for the tiny people in your life.

According to my Ultimate Guide to Faux Infant Cannibalism, Sean Connery is the size of cauliflower, acorn squash and a recorder this week. So, make some Cauliflower Rice Stuffed Acorn Squash and play this song on the recorder while it's in the oven!

Happy adventuring!

Mother, May I?

I read this quote this morning,

"A mother is not a person to lean on but a person to make leaning unnecessary." Dorothy C. Fisher.

If that's true, I suppose I can thank my mother this mother's day by raising me to be independent. Some may describe it as fiercely so. Granted, most of this was through neglect, when you don't have any one to mother you, you find substitutes until you learn to mother yourself. I also really like to get my oldest brother mother's day cards occasionally. It acknowledges that he raised us all and it's hilarious.

I don't think I've posted in a while. I've been busy at work working (a surprise, I know, since I'm a fancy scientist for The Man) and I've been spending a lot of time with Chumbercules.

We found out Sean Connery is a boy! I am so excited! I've always wanted to be a boy mom. However, I it is quite likely that the next person that says, "You're going to have to go for a third to try and get a girl!" is going to get punched. In the throat. Possibly with spiked brass knuckles. Who knows. Oh! That's what I want for Mother's Day! Spiked brass knuckles! (I just googled it. It's totally a thing.) Plus, I have a stepdaughter. That's enough for me.

So, baby boy 2.0 is proving a bit harder to name than his older brother. Because, once again, all my ideas are too awesome for Mr. Adventure to handle and all his ideas are not awesome. Well, some are okay, but I don't like them with his last name, you know? Our last naming discussion ended when I said, "I'm going to name him 'Fuck You, Mr. Adventure!'" And he asked me if fuck you was going to be one word and the first name or how I planned to split that all up.

Since I have entered the forgetful stage of pregnancy, I may re-share some links. But I doubt any of you are going back and reading whatever I posted the first time around anyway, and it's long enough between posts these days that maybe you've forgotten what I shared as well! Yay!

At 23 weeks pregnant, mostly I think about how I'm currently the size I was when I was 9 months pregnant the first time around. The best thing about second pregnancy is that I actually look pregnant this time around, instead of just fat. Yay!

The other thing I think about is, "How will this effect my current family?" We've discussed reworking space in the house and how we can make sure everyone (and everything, dogs!) that sleeps in our house has the space and privacy they need. I hate to say it, but I think the dogs may have to give up their bedroom soon.

Yes, my dogs have their own bedroom. They're fancy. Rupert dances when I ask him if he wants a top hat and a monacle. That's how you know they're legit fancy.

Anyway, Pregnant Chicken has a post I really love on bringing home your second baby.

And I've recently discovered Janet Lansbury's Elevating Childcare site. She's a proponent of RIE and gentle parenting (but not in an overly hippy way that drives me freaking crazy). She talks a lot about setting boundaries and how when toddlers test limits, it's really them making sure the boundaries are the same. Anyway, she has a post on Helping Kids Adjust to Life with a New Baby and I keep re-reading it (because I'm forgetfully pregnant). It's really good.

Vanity Fair did an article on RIE last year in their February issue.

This week, Sean Connery is the size of a grapefruit, an eggplant and a Harry Potter book, though I'm not sure which one. I think I read last week he was the size of a Barbie, but that freaked me out.

And The Hunger! I've been eating a lot of generic rice krispies with brown sugar. Because it's delicious. And I did a really shitty job grocery shop last weekend, so it's slim pickins around our house.

Hamburglar is almost 20 months! Shit's crazy. And super fun. He picks up his own toys and puts them away and he loves helping me unload the dishwasher. We talk about what each object is as we put it away. And I let him put away the things that go on bottom shelves. Because bending over when you're pregnant is hard work.  I came across this page and it gave me some great ideas for things to do with Chumby around the house.

That's about it. I still feel fine. No swelling, mild heart burn. Oh, and I've only gained 7 pounds so far, which is pretty freaking amazing considering all the god damn cereal I've been eating.