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Tuesday, March 31, 2015

The Toddler Bed Transition

As a result of my catching the nesting bug, last Sunday we cleared out the room that will be the nursery and moved furniture from one spare room to the next.  Part of the "furniture moving" process was to assemble Camden's (free, hand-me-down) Thomas the Train Toddler Bed, and move it into his room so he could get used to seeing it and be something for us to talk to him about until it was "time."  



After initially freaking out at the thought of trying to transition him to a toddler bed so baby sister could use his crib, and many talks with my wise mommy friends, I had decided (and vowed) that I wouldn't worry about transitioning him and we would wait and see how we all felt about it once the baby was born.  I was (and still am!) planning to keep her in our room for the first three months so really, he wouldn't have "needed" to be out of the crib until mid-August or so.

Anyway, why in the world I thought he wouldn't be excited over this totally awesome Thomas bed is beyond me.  Clearly, along with having the worst memory (thank you, pregnancy), I've also entered into a state of delusion.  He was over the moon excited and insisted on taking his Sunday nap in his Thomas bed.  Rest assured that normally, we do not let our two year old call the shots, but because he was so excited, we figured it wouldn't hurt to at least give it a try.

We tucked him in, explained that big boys stay in their big boy beds, said goodnight, and closed the door.  What he didn't know was that Ryan and I were standing directly on the other side of the door watching his every move with our video monitor.

He immediately got out of bed, stood in the middle of the floor, and stared at himself in the mirror for 20 seconds.

   
It took a few times going in and out of his room, explaining to him that he needed to stay put (and even threatening to put him in his crib which he made very clear that he didn't want to do), but in a relatively short amount of time - he was out.  And our jaws were on the floor.

  
If I recall, it wasn't the longest nap in the history of Sunday naps, but it wasn't a total disaster either.  I  immediately started worrying about how that night would go and how we would approach the sleeping arrangements.  He seemed adamant that he didn't want to sleep in his crib, but I also didn't want my wild beast child wandering the house at all hours of the night.  Again, contrary to his occasional beliefs - he isn't the boss around here, but I was very curious as to how it would go down if we were willing to give it a shot.  This all had kind of happened organically (yes, I really just said organically) and no where was this transition in my plan.  A Sunday afternoon is the absolute last time I would spring a big change like this.  Needless to say, I was fearing the worst for that Sunday night and rude Monday morning.

Much like the first nap, it took a few times of him getting out of bed, standing in the middle of his room, and getting gentle reminders from us that he needed to stay in bed - but he was able to fall asleep on his own in a pretty impressive (to us) amount of time.  I watched him on the monitor like a hawk, just waiting for him to hop his little self out of bed.  This hawk watching continued all night long while my hubby slept like a rock beside me.  Guess what?  He hardly moved, let alone let himself out of bed.



At 6:15 the next morning (Monday), I was downstairs getting ready for work and I heard his door open.  He was so happy and so proud and said, "Hi, Mommy!"  We praised the heck out of him, and I chalked the successful night up to a fluke.

I'll spare you the daily play-by-play, but every night since has gone incredibly smooth.  We lay in his Thomas bed together and read his stories, I say goodnight and shut his door, go back in a few times to remind him to stay in bed, and then he's asleep.  The one and only issue that we're having is that the little pork chop has been waking up really early and letting himself out of his room - ready to greet the day.  The earliest greeting came at one 5am when he burst through our door asking to go downstairs and "watch baseballs."  Otherwise it's kind of varied from 5:30am - 6:10am.  He's always been an early riser (I get him up at 6:30am to get ready for daycare/work), but I'm not even waking up until 5:30am on the weekdays.  

Some days have been earlier/later than others, and it's taken some commitment and discipline on our part to march him right back into his bed when he wakes up too early.  As easy as it would be to let him climb in our bed or just stay awake - neither Ryan or I want to go down that road.  We like having our bed to ourselves and I certainly do not want Cam thinking that anytime before 6am is a normal or acceptable waking hour.  

I ordered this to try and help him understand that he needs to stay asleep and in bed until the clock says it's ok to wake up, but someone keeps forgetting (hello, pregnancy brain) to buy AA batteries at the store and so it's just siting there on his bookshelf doing nothing.  I'm hopeful that once I get my act together and purchase some batteries, we'll go back to not seeing his little face until 6:30am.

We still have the crib in his room so we can use it as leverage to get him to stay in bed, but we are making progress and it's taking less reminders from us before he's staying put and falling asleep.  The plan is to move it into baby sister's room in the next few weekends so we can start talking to him some more about how his world is about to be rocked. 

I certainly wasn't ready to tackle this transition, but apparently he was. 

Take Luck,
LP

Tuesday, March 24, 2015

30 Weeks

30 weeks is here and making this whole "we're having another baby" thing feel really real.  And it's funny to me because "30 weeks" sounds so close, yet my due date is still a little over two months away.

Friends who were pregnant before me have started having their babies and I think that's helping with the "reality" factor.  Most importantly, my best friend Tiff welcomed the most perfect Eloise.  My friend Kara welcomed her fourth girl (Nelle) and Ryan's cousin's wife somehow naturally birthed a 12 pound baby boy (Eric).  Next up is Alex, and I cannot wait to see if her baby is a boy or girl.  My sweet sister-in-law is due at the end of April with a boy.  And then it's our turn.

It's feeling really real because all these beautiful babies are being born and things up in here are getting round, wide, and all sorts of super fun.


What sort of super fun, you ask?  Heartburn, indigestion, acid reflux and I have a daily get together.  It's getting to the point where I bend over to pick up Camden's toys and I can literally feel the acid being pushed up my chest.  

My hands will frequently go tingly and/or numb because apparently pregnancy carpal tunnel is totally a thing.  

And last week, when walking down a slightly narrow hallway in my office building, a man walking the other direction as me dramatically pressed himself up against the wall in an effort to let me by.  I know I'm getting bigger, but shit - I'm not wearing a flashing "wide load" sign, buddy. 

I had an ultrasound on Monday to check in on baby sister's growth, because at our anatomy scan in January she was measuring smaller than average.  According to the ultrasound, she's measuring around 2 pounds 15 ounces - which is great!  That puts her in the 29th percentile and my doctor was really pleased with her progress.  The ultrasound also showed that the baby is breech, so I am extremely hopeful that she will flip head down on her own.  We will take another peek at 36 weeks to check her position.  My doctor said there isn't really anything I can do to help her flip, but I am pretty sure there are some yoga-esque poses that might be worth a try.

Her being in the breeched position totally makes sense in retrospect. My ribs (especially the left side) have been really achy and painful this pregnancy and I had no idea why. Well, it's because her little noodle is wedged up in/under there.

Because I have a blood disorder, my doctor frequently checks my platelet counts.  I've never had an issue while pregnant, but it's good to know if I am at a heightened risk for bleeding and if the numbers were below a certain threshold, I wouldn't be able to have an epidural.  Funny how with Camden's pregnancy and birth plan I was hoping for a natural birth, and this time, I'm like, "give me the juice."

I think we are pretty much decided on baby sister's name.  My only worry is if we meet her and the name doesn't feel right?  We don't have a solid backup (or any backup for that matter), so if she comes out and it doesn't fit - we're in trouble.

The nesting bug has kicked in and I'm finally making (slow) progress on getting the nursery put together.  We finally cleared out the room of all the furniture, and my little sister was kind enough to paint for us.  Thanks to my nesting, Cam unintentionally transitioned to a toddler bed.  But that's a whole other post and I'm still trying to wrap my head around my baby sleeping in a big boy toddler bed.

Until 32 weeks.  Think baby flipping thoughts for me.

Take Luck,
LP

Friday, March 20, 2015

Little Photog

The nesting bug his bitten and therefore our house is unusually tidy.  Not to be confused with clean.  Just tidy.

I was walking around the house this afternoon taking some photos, debating on if I should do a "home tour" post.  First of all, I don't think our house is particularly blog worthy, and second, we've lived in our new place for nine months and I have yet to decorate.  I have with many traits, but interior design is not one of them.  I have no style, no direction, and get completely overwhelmed when looking for inspiration on Pinterest.

Anyway, while walking around with my little helper, he kept tugging on my clothes and saying, "I do it!"  I'm embarrassing to admit how long it took me to realize what he was trying to say.  He wanted to take pictures, too!

I got down on his little man level, put the camera strap around his neck, set the camera to auto, helped him hoist it to his eye, let him aim, and helped him shoot.







Clearly, he has a thing for his basketball hoop.

This was a fun (and unexpected) little project.  He squealed with glee after each shot.  Hopefully this will be the first of many sessions with my little photog.

Take Luck,
LP

Monday, March 16, 2015

Camden Says / 02

Considering I can hardly keep a thought in my head for longer than six seconds, and it's been a while since I last regaled you with things Camden says, I figure there is no time better than now to share some more.
 
- Ryan swatted/patted Camden's bottom while playing.  Cam whipped around, pointed his finger at Ryan and very sternly said, "Daddy, no hitting!"

- Whenever we're upstairs he likes to jump on the futon and look out the window.  One day he was looking out the window and said, "Mommy, wook (look)!  Boats!  Trees!  Waters!  Brock poop!"

- Says, "Come on, Mommy.  Mommy, come on!" about 12,000 times per day.

- Asking him what he did one particular day at daycare...
Me: What did you do today at Ms. Debbie's?
Cam: Uhm, twees (trees) fall down.
Me: You watched the men cut down the trees?
Cam: Uhm, yeah.  Twees cwying (crying).

- While playing trains, he let out a toot, grinned really big, and then innocently asked me, "Mommy, what that noise?"

- He loves to identify things as daddy, mommy, or baby.  For example, the handicapped school bus is always the "baby school bus," and any regular sized vessel is the "daddy school bus" or the "mommy school bus."

- They sing a lot of songs at daycare and he is always requesting that we sing "Whole World" in the car.  He's asking for "He's Got the Whole World in His Hands," and he will name all of this daycare teachers and most of his friends so we can sing for them.  And sometimes, he even wants to sing for "Baby Sister."  Swoon!

- Recently discovered Frozen/Olaf and asks to hear "Owaf (Olaf), Happy Snowman!"

- I could be driving any speed and he will randomly say, "Mommy, swow (slow) down!  Too fast!"

And my personal favorite...

- Changing his diaper one morning right after he woke up.  While trying to put his little britches back on, he held my face/chin in his hand and very seriously said, "Wook at me, Mommy.  Timeout?"


Take Luck,
LP

Sunday, March 15, 2015

A Soccer Player

I'm pretty confident that since the day we found out we were expecting a boy, Ryan has been excited for him to play soccer.

After talking to our rental tenants, who have one of their little boys in a soccer program/class at our local indoor center, we decided the time had come.

Of course, the class time for 2-3 year olds is Saturday mornings at 9am, so this meant choosing between taking Cam to gymnastics (which he loved!) and giving soccer a try.  We asked Camden which he would rather do - gymnastics or soccer, and I'm pretty sure he yelled his response.  Soccer.

In the few parent/child activities we have/had Cam involved in, I've always been the parent that participated with him.  I was personally very (repeat, very) excited to be able to sit on the bleachers and watch.  

The morning of the first class, Ryan said that it felt like Christmas Day because he had been waiting for this day for so long.  I don't typically swoon over too many things my husband says/does, but this day was totally swoon-worthy.

And this excited face?




If you sign up for an entire session, you get a uniform.  The first two classes we were able to go to (due to already paying for gymnastics and being out of town) was just considered a drop-in.  So, the little munchkin was the odd-ball out in his t-shirt and shorts.  He didn't care - he was just happy to be running free like a wild beast, kicking a ball, and spending time with his Daddy.

It's total chaos.  Imagine twelve (or so, I can't keep track of the ankle biters) little 2-3 year olds running around chasing balls.

We signed up for a new session, got the majorly oversized uniform, and had one proud (ahem, adorable) little man on our hands.


Hammy is definitely one of the younger kids in his little class and it shows sometimes.  He would much rather run around for the 50 minutes of class than take water breaks or sit in a line and listen to his coaches talk about the next drill.  "Skill" and coordination wise he blends in with the bunch, but if you see a little blue blur with blonde hair while everyone else is sitting in the goal -- it's probably the Camnado.

He loves to shoot a goal, put his hands up in the air and yell, "Gooooooal!" and then clap for himself. He also likes to try his hand at shooting the soccer ball as a basketball and rolling his body on top of the soccer ball.  Clearly, we have some work to do on the "no hands" concept.  Whatever he's doing - it's quite the entertaining sight.

See for yourself.

video


video


It's amazing (and a little frightening) to me to think about the years (and years) of soccer practices and games that lie ahead.

Take Luck,
LP 

Monday, March 2, 2015

27 Weeks

I blinked and suddenly it's March.

27 weeks down, and one week left in the second trimester.  Frightening and exciting all at the same time.


My sense of smell has been on red alert this entire pregnancy and showing no signs of stopping.  Public restrooms are practically public enemy number one.  The dogs come in from outside and I have to shoo them away because I can literally smell "the outside" on them.  I can sniff out practically anything - good and bad.

I have a nightly ritual that I've started to call "doomed dinners."  I can hardly look at or prepare meat, let alone eat it.  So, most nights I am holding my breath while preparing something "meaty" for Ryan and then thinking of something simple (and non-meaty) to make for myself.  More often then not, what I choose to make for myself doesn't smell or taste good either.

I had my first overly-awkward-stranger-pregnancy-conversation last weekend.  While at the grocery store, in the meat section, the meat lady (who we have ordered meat from for several years now but is purely the meat lady) approached me in front of the stew meat and said, "Are you pregnant?!  Is it a girl?!  I can tell." I had no idea what she meant by being able to tell that it's a girl, but whatever.  Meat lady then asked, "Was it planned?"  I wouldn't expect a family member to ask this question, let alone a stranger.  Because I am a chicken shit, I laughed uncomfortably and assured her that yes, it was planned.   Camden then yelled from the shopping cart, "Mommy, wets (let's) go!" and I have never been more thankful that he has the capability of being rude.  

At this time, I would like to retract my previous statement that my belly is growing round and not wide.  While it still is mostly out front and round - I can't help but notice that it's now growing out in both directions.

Last night while getting ready for bed, I pulled up my pajama pant leg and told Ryan, "I haven't shaved my legs in two weeks.  Feel."  He gave me the "I really don't want to do this, but I'm going to do this so you don't start crying irrationally" look and was clearly shocked when there was nary a stubble.

I had the (not) pleasure of drinking my lemon lime glucola drink for my glucose test this morning.  I thought I would break it up into several chugging sessions but after my second-go, I realize that was a terrible idea and I just needed to chug, chug, chug.  I finished the drink and kept it down, but immediately got a monster headache and acid reflux.       

In three weeks I'll go back and have an ultrasound to check baby girl's growth.  She's measuring "smaller than average," so they want to make sure she is growing and that everything is groovy in there.  Given how my belly is growing, I'm confident that she's growing, but know she just may be a small/smaller baby.

Until 30 weeks.

Take Luck,
LP
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