Posts Tagged ‘Shoot self in foot’

This is how I spent my day internet…


That’s right. With the Monster Closet of Death. Oh God. It is just a wall of eight years’ worth of LIFE. I’m pretty sure I swore I’d never let it get this bad again but you know what happens when you create another miraculous human life? You also accumulate miraculous amounts of shi- I mean stuff. Lots of shitty stuff. Oh crap, I think I was trying to avoid cursing there. Oh well. So you know that moment when you finally clear out the closet but then all of its contents are spread out in gigantic piles all around your house and all you want to do is cry and move far far away from it all? Yeah. That’s what I was feeling here:


…Punctuated nicely by my second born, who kept creeping ever-so-quietly behind piles of junk, jumping up and shouting BOOOOOOO at the top of his very high-functioning lungs. I briefly threatened to look up orphanages in the phone book but then he said “What’s a phone book?” and I lost my will to threaten him further, for the laughing and the wonder at how much different life is for these small people. After MUCH to-do and a little help from Radio-Lab, This American Life and two Bloody Mary’s, I finished…


I know that all said and done it doesn’t look that impressive but trust me on this one. This is a closet that slopes downward under our entryway stairs. It is neither wide nor long enough but it happens to be the ONLY storage space for a family five we have in this entire house. I want you people with basements, extra rooms and/or storage closets full of shit to close your eyes and imagine putting all of that in one tiny, angled walk-in closet. It is the ultimate game of tetris, especially when you have to pull out your seasonal things every 2-3 months and if that seasonal item has migrated to the back GAME OVER CHRISTMAS IS RUINED, ALSO YOUR LIFE.

Balance in the force of the entryway was also restored and we are now semi-ready to put up Christmas decorations next Friday and host our family for Keaton’s 6th birthday..


Well, I’d write more but I need to go get really drunk* so I can effectively rid this day from my memory. I hope you understand, Internet.

*And by “get really drunk” I mean, have a glass a wine and fall asleep on the couch. This is what drunk is to old people.


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Listen, I know we already all knew this but my idiot-game has upped itself to new heights. Last night I did something so colossally stupid, something I one hundred and fifty (thousand!} percent knew would destroy me but I did it anyway. I watched The Conjuring. Internet, do NOT watch this movie, it is goddamn terrifying. {Especially if you’re me.  If you’re not me and are a grown-up who learned somewhere along the way to separate fact from fiction then you’re probably fine.}

Over the years, Bill and I have talked a lot about what our own personal brand of ohshitImterrified fear is when it comes to the horror genre and I have to say we are on complete opposite sides of the spectrum. Bill’s number one supernatural fear is zombies and he gets pretty freaked out by a monster flick. {But seriously the man can sleep under any and all circumstances so while it might freak him out as he watches, he forgets about it completely somewhere around 10 minutes after it’s over.} And listen, I get it. When the makeup and special effects are done right, I can see that a zombie might be moderately scary, but jesus they just move soooo sloooow and a majority of the time they’re missing the correct limbs to, you know, catch you or grab you with and I actually find it fairly comical instead of disturbing when they are so horribly disfigured they’re barely recognizable as something that might have once been human. With The Walking Dead {which I like to refer to as The Walking Sexists but I’ll admit is killing it this season} and the subsequent influx of zombie flicks over the last 10 years, I don’t know, I feel sort of immune and don’t get super scared by them.

The only movie from the monster genre that has stayed with me and truly scared me to the core was the TV mini-series of Stephen King’s Silver Bullet. This probably has less to do with how frightening it actually is {I really don’t know how it holds up, I will never watch that sucker again} and more to do with the fact that I watched it when I was 7 years old. I was across the street at the 12 year old neighbor girl’s house. I think she was probably charged with “watching me” in a Mother’s Helper sort of way that afternoon and she took her job very seriously by making me Spaghettio’s and setting me up in her family room with a movie! Sounds nice, huh? Until she picked out Silver Bullet. I don’t know how strongly I can emphasize that this is NOT an appropriate movie for an 7 year old, especially one that has had a recurring nightmare from 4 years old on about a werewolf that terrorizes her neighborhood. I was completely warped from watching it, and more than 25 years later I can still picture the fog overlaying the ground and the people of the town being dragged under it and {presumably} ripped limb from limb off camera and ohmygod let’s not talk about this anymore.

Overall though, my fear is definitely more strongly rooted in the haunted house, possession type story lines so The Conjuring was probably the absolute dumbest movie I ever could have watched because not only is it based on a true story, it contains a haunted house and a demonic witch who possesses mothers who are then forced to do horrible things to their children. My fascination/fear of these movies started at 14 when I watched Amityville: The Possession. I’m sure I watched the original Amityville movie at some point but it didn’t terrify me as much as the sequel did and for years after I would wake up paralyzed with the fear that one of my possessed family members would enter my room with a shotgun and take us all out. Lovely thought, I know. To be clear none of my un-possessed family members would most likely ever do this but 3:15am doesn’t always lend itself to rational thinking.

My imagination obviously tends to be on the more active side but as I’ve grown into a real-live adult, my fearful reaction to most scary movies has definitely dulled. After all, a sugared-up toddler who won’t nap or a colicky baby that wakes up 10 times a night are WAY WAY WAY more frightening than any ghost or demon could ever be. I’ve also gotten pretty good at being able to turn off my imagination and/or thoughts before they spiral out of control and go from “wow, that was a pretty messed up FICTIONAL movie” to waking up in the middle of the night paralyzed with terror, absolutely SURE there is a possessed witch hovering six inches above my face as I’m completely paralyzed in my bed in the black room. Until last night that is!

The whole movie I was a mess. Bill kept saying “how bout we turn it off, dummy” when for the 6th time I balled myself in the corner of the couch with my hands literally covering my eyes like a 3 year old. “No! Then I won’t know how they got rid of her! It will be worse!” After I made him pause it 2-3 times so I could remind myself to blink and breath, he had lost pretty much all patience with me but we made it to the end. And *spoiler alert* at least it didn’t pull one of those dick moves that the horror genre is so fond of that let you believe they resolved whatever horrible occurence had happened and then the final scene is all HA! Just kidding! EVERYONE’S STILL SCREWED. It was a relatively happy ending, if you don’t account for all the hundreds of thousands of dollars in therapy those characters will have to pay to get over that awfulness.

I really should just not be allowed to watch this crap. And for years I stayed away from it because I knew I couldn’t handle it. I think it was after The Ring came out and I didn’t sleep barely at all for a week straight that I quit horror all together for a few years but after a while I dipped back in and then October rolls around and I get caught up in Jezebel’s annual true scary story post which inevitably leads me to scroll through Rotten Tomatoes to see what the year had to offer in scary movies. I think this one cured me of any need to watch something this horrifying… at least until next year.

These are my more recent I Am Never Watching This Shit Again movies: Silent Hill, Evil Dead {remake, I’ve never seen the original} and Sinister. But honestly, The Conjuring takes the flippin’ cake. A big part of this might be because I’m a little OCD about time, so much so, that I can’t wear a watch because I check it obsessively so movies where something bad happens at a specific time each night, really mess with me on a whole different level. I spent all night so tense, barely sleeping and afraid to look at my clock. When I did nod off Bill said I kept jerking and gasping in my sleep. I am a total mess today and am already scared to go to bed tonight and it’s only 1pm. So yeah. Dumb. So, so dumb.

{When I’m ready to jump back in to scary movies, because let’s face it, I just don’t learn, I’ll watch my go-to pallet cleanser, Cabin in the Woods, which is pretty much the best horror/anti-horror/comedy movie ever made, God Bless you, Joss Whedon.}

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The 2013 costuming season can be summed us thusly: So. Much. Sewing.

Seriously. As I was sewing on what I’m pretty sure was the 67th snap, I found myself wistfully remembering that first year when all I had to do was lovingly affix 7,986,231 sequins to two costumes. This year, between the 2 kids, I was responsible for six costumes, all of which needed a moderate to severe amount of sewing. And yes, severe sewing is totally a thing. At least when it’s done by me. I severely sewed the SHIT out of these costumes.

Let’s jump in, shall we?

Rowan’s jazz dance was to Monster Mash. This costume was originally slated to be a lacy white and black, Bride of Frankenstein-esque number but it wasn’t quite Monster-y enough, which meant that the sewers had to start over, modeling it after a small-group costume created the previous season. I was a little put off by all the orange at first but it looked great up on stage and even won the costume award at our first competition.


The skirt was probably the most labor intensive. The tulle of the skirt was dotted which made the placement of the sequins a no-brainer {and it was soft tulle which makes a HUGE difference in getting the sequins to stick} but there were A LOT of them. The black stripes on the front were glittered, which was messy but pretty easy. The waistband was added later by our room mom so we could add an assortment of orange, clear and irredescent crystal stones.


The orange muppet feathers were originally on a rope-like spool; 2 four inch and one six inch pieces were cut for each skirt and we sewed them on to create the desired feathered-bootie effect. We also added the flower and tacked the skirt down in several places so it would stay in place during the dance.


I’m sorry there was really just no good way to photograph this fluff of a top. When we got it is was just a rectangular piece of lycra. From there we sewed on two long ropes of orange fluff, tacking each down in 6 or so places. Then we added extra pieces of fluff to the back once we account for stretch, so it would completely cover the lycra. Three black straps were added to connect it around the back and two to the neck. The material is a sparkly black which is great for shimmering up on stage but not so great for the dancers as it is suuuupppeeerrr itchy. I ended up sewing a soft felt-like material on the inside where the straps were bothering Rowan which helped some.


The neck straps were stoned with an assortment of crystals and I sewed on a swimsuit clasp and snaps for closures. There are 6 of these flowers on this costume, which were originally fake flowers with a stem and all, purchased from a craft store. They were de-stemmed, taken apart, hot glued and sewn back together, then a clear gem was sharpied {I promise this is a thing in the dance world} orange and glued in the center. We also glittered all the black stripes by placing many small dots of gem-tac glue and then sprinkling spoonfuls of glitter over them. Obviously this wasn’t enough DUH so we added random stones for shine.


For the arm bands we sewed more orange fluff in a circle to splay out the feathers and WHY YES, that is more glitter on the black stripes, which was thankfully done in the studio and not spread all over my house… although I did mysteriously find some under Ezra’s chin a few days later for which the only explanation I can think of is some made it down my shirt and was transferred via nursing session, whatever… sparkle boob, sparkle baby. We also sewed clear hair elastics to the points of the band to loop around their finger so they would stay in place.


The leg mufflers were made of a very messy fur that sheds everywhere so we had to handle these puppies with care. We sequined the black tulle and sewed on the decorated flowers. To keep these things from slipping down while the girls danced we were given very tight, long, lycra socks. We sewed snaps to both the muffs and the socks to secure them. There was still a little slippage but it worked pretty well.


Last were the hair bows. I helped glitter and decorate the flowers but one of our talented room moms created and assembled the bows. They are super cute and will be great for re-wearing at Halloween.

And here is the finished product…


Rowan’s tap costume was MUCH less labor intensive and I really really love it. Still though, with the sewing…


The skirt was made out of a shimmery plaid which required no extra stones or sequins. I’m not quite sure how we made it through without having to sequin the tulle sticking out but thankbabyjesus for big/small favors. We stoned the belt loops and the buckle and tacked down the belt and the skirt to the tulle so it wouldn’t flip up. Voila! Done!


For the blazer we stoned and sewed on the decorative buttons and then sewed snaps on the inside for the closure. We sequined and stoned to create the LD patch. The pockets and collar were tacked down in several places so nothing gets floppy on stage.


For the finishing touches, the plaid was cut and glued onto the taps. We sewed on two rows of ruffle to the white knee-highs. The bra top required no extra work, as it was really barely visible on most girls.


And here it is! I helped put the little stones on the hair bows but they were again mostly done by one of our room moms. I was disappointed when Charlie Brown was chosen as Rowan’s tap song- it’s just never been one of my favorites, but the costume ended up so adorable and the dance turned out to be one of my very favorites- the best one of Rowan’s yet. I love the whole thing.


The studio also does a number that spans all the competition lines, 1st grade through graduating seniors {6 lines total plus the Dancing Dads- all of them except for the baby line, which is why this is Rowan’s first year in it} called Jive Bunny. It’s always a mix of songs with a common theme. Last year it was a Footloose theme, the year before is was Lady Gaga {those costumes were pretty rad}. This year Jive Bunny had a Rock of Ages theme. Rowan’s group dances out to I Wanna Rock during which they wield Paper Jams guitars. It’s reeeeeeally cute. A group of awesome moms took the helm piecing together this costume. I didn’t do anything but pay for it and add a few tacks to hold things in place.

Now for Keaton. Last fall I offered to help out backstage for the boys. I didn’t think it would be a big deal since there were just three boys on his line, they only do two competitions and two recitals and I was nervous how Keaton would handle all this so I thought it would be better to be back there with him. Then one of the boys ended up dropping out so it was just the two of them and I failed to remember that all the comp boys from the studio do a boys only number that is performed at all 5 recital shows. And little did I know, although I should have suspected, that I would somehow become responsible for the boys’ costumes which were eventually pieced together and modified by myself with a generous amount of help from the room mom from his line and a couple other older boys’ moms who have been through The Crazy and gave me help/tips. I was completely unprepared for this responsibility and hated pretty much every second of it from conception to execution to completion but there really wasn’t anyone else who could do it so that was that. If Keaton stays in dance I praypraypray a boy with a competent mother gets recruited so I can pass the costume conception torch to her, for I absolutely SUCK at it. Give me detailed instructions and material and I will gladly do whatever I can to help out but I’m just NOT cut out to put this stuff together; I do NOT have a brain that thinks in sequins and shimmer, just look at my closet where you’ll be assaulted with only varying shades of grey.


I don’t have detailed or great pictures of Keaton’s costumes. I’m always so busy doing things backstage, a rushed cell phone picture is all I’ve managed so far, Hopefully I’ll get some good ones during the recital weekend. This is his jazz costume. It looks easy and unassuming enough and it really is, except that none of the items he’s wearing here came in the right color. The green t-shirt is the only thing that was purchased outright and the only modification was cutting a hole in it to string the light panel battery pack connector through. The sweatshirt had to match the girls’ vests so I bought white hoodies, cut a hole for the light panel in the lower chest, cut the sleeves off and had them hemmed, then a room mom helped dye them to match. Another room mom found the light-up panels {the girls’ tutus light up so they wanted something cool for the boys} which I glued and tacked onto the sweatshirt in 8 spots. I also tacked down the hood so it wouldn’t flop around and tacked the sweatshirt to the greet shirt.

The shorts were pretty time consuming because all the pink and orange you see on them was lovingly colored in with fabric markers and they needed to be gone over several times to be bright enough. They also only had the converse high-tops in bold colors; no neon or baby blue unless you want to pay big bucks for custom designs so those were dyed along with the sweatshirts, which took a couple of tries because they weren’t coming out dark enough. Then I ditched the white laces for the bright blue. The socks needed to be colored with fabric pens as well. There were tons of neon colors out there this spring but unfortunately they were all for girls and all super feminine styles. The process of running to store after store, getting excited about finally landing on something only to have it not work out and then heading back to return it was really daunting with the baby.


Keaton’s tap dance was to Hound Dog. Please don’t ask me about the zebra print because I… don’t get it either. The pants and fake-leather jacket was purchased at H&M. I searched stores and the Internet high and low for a boys zebra print shirt with close to zero luck. The only one I found was spendy and non-returnable which really wasn’t a chance I wanted to take because I never knew what would make it through approvals or not. In the end I modified the straps on a zebra camisole I found at Justice. The boys HATE it but since you only see the bottom and a little bit at the top it’s not too big of a deal. My least favorite part of this costume was the dog collar {which you can’t really see in this picture}. It’s a men’s gothic spike necklace I got at Hot Topic. I had to cut it down and add elastic and a snap and ugh, it’s weird and yuck and I DO NOT LIKE. Admittedly it looks just fine on stage but I asked the girls’ room mom to sneak it off of him for his individual shot on picture day because just, yeah, no thank you.


For the boys dance Keaton wore an adorable tuxedo. Since he was born with absolutely no butt to speak of, I had to take in the waist by about half. I also had the legs hemmed and each age group of boys got their own color cumberbund and tie. Besides adding velcro on the tie closure {they all pull them off at the end of the dance} and reinforcing the buttons, this one was pretty easy and he was just oh so handsome.

And there you have it! Time is always the big issue~ it seems no matter how hard everyone tries to get the ball rolling early, we always end up having to complete 9,000 tasks in about 3-4 weeks and it is really pretty stressful; especially when you’re caring for a small human that doesn’t understand when I say “hold on, Baby, I just need to sew on 8 more snaps”. I have learned to let go and just try to roll with the punches for the most part which was fine for Rowan’s stuff, especially after I learned to glue down the snap before sewing. There may have been some tears shed when those little bastards wouldn’t stop sliding around as I was trying to sew them down and it was 11 pm and I knew the baby would be up soon and I just wanted to sleeeeeep and STOP MOVING, SNAP I HATE YOU, SNAP WHY WERE YOU EVEN BORN, SNAP. Letting things go turned out to be a little trickier for Keaton since I was in charge of it but with lots of help I made it through with most of my dignity in tact. Being stuck in a dressing room with a dozen boys ages 4-12 is a WHOLE other story, one I’m really hoping I live through.

As in previous years, we are not sure if we’ll continue down this road. There are so many benefits of competitive dance but the main drawbacks, time and money, are getting harder to justify the deeper into this we get. We will reassess after the recital at the beginning of June and see where things stand. In the meantime, I’m so proud of all the hard work Rowan and Keaton put in this year. The progress they’ve both made is really remarkable and watching how much fun they are having up on stage has truly been one of my best moments as their mom, even if I do wince every time I see a hard-won stone or sequin pop off in the process ;).


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It’s done. NaBloPoMo has reached the end and I’m not going to lie, I’m glad. This was both the easiest and hardest of the four National Blog Posting Months I’ve participated in. Easy because, with a newborn, I almost always had something to write about. I never had that panicked feeling of Shit! Maybe I can dress the cat up in people clothes and post pictures to buy me an extra day. Hard because, uhhh, we had a newborn, and I don’t know if you know this or not but they’re kind of a lot of work.

Coordinating writing time went great when I could sit up to the computer, lay Ezra on the boppy to feed him and then hunt and peck with my free hand to cobble together a post or edit and upload pictures. Unfortunately it didn’t always work out so smooth and much of the time when I was writing I felt guilty because there are always just so.many.things. I know every mom says it and I will again freely admit how bad I am at math, but how one little baby can add up to so much extra laundry is just not mathematically possible. DOES NOT COMPUTE.

Having the completely imaginary pressure of the internet waiting for me to post will not be missed but it has been nice to have a focus. When one minute you’re holding a sweet, peaceful cherub, plump and happily slumbering in your arms, and the next minute the dog barks and said cherub turns on you and is all of a sudden simultaneously shooting spit-up down your back while having a massive poop and when you go to change that massive poop he starts peeing all over you and himself at the same time he is spitting up again HOW IS THERE EVEN ANYTHING LEFT IN YOU BABY and you have no idea which end to wipe first and how did things go so wrong so quickly so…yeah. To have some control amidst the chaos was a welcome break.

Another plus? Having this record of Ezra’s first days. One of the first things people ask you right after you’ve had a baby is So… are you done? For the record I think it’s totally unfair to ask someone who’s just had a baby if they’re “done” because more babies are really the last thing on your mind in the days after giving birth. And my go to answer is, well, Bill is done, so unless things fall through with Brad and Angelina, I’m probably done too.

In truth, I want four. The reality is though, that kids are expensive and holyhell a lot of work {also: THE PUKE} so I really understand why three is more than enough for Bill. Still, I think we’re both in the never-say-never camp as who knows? I might win big playing Bingo someday… you know! If I start playing Bingo! Point is, circumstances do change so we’re not closing any doors permanently but Ezra will more than likely be our last so having this record of his first weeks is pretty invaluable to me.

And now? I’m going to ride off into the sunset to revel in my family and enjoy the peace of the impending holiday season. HA HA JUST KIDDING! Did I mention we are throwing a pool party for many small preschoolers in honor of Keaton turning the big OH- FIVE? Because I am throwing a motherfucking pool party for many small preschoolers. And it is in two days and I don’t know what the hell I was thinking because DUMB and STUPID and I think I should probably buy some cake plates or a balloon bouquet or something oh god what is wrong with me. At least we don’t have another birthday to attend tonight, a full day at the dance studio tomorrow and our own packed evening of getting our tree and decorations up in the evening. OH SHIT WAIT. Of course we do.

With that? Thanks for once again for sticking out NaBloPoMo with me. I’m so grateful that people take time out to read about our adventures, even if it is only to laugh and be thankful you’re not as ridiculous as we are. Pray for my stupidity, Internet! I will need all the help I can get.


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So! Back at my mid-wife appointment

Right before she inserted the gel, my midwife decided to strip my membranes one last time. I had heard this was a painful procedure but the first two times I had it done I didn’t even flinch. This time however, OUCH. As she went to insert the gel she asked the nurse to get a towel as there was quite a bit of spotting. I was actually excited to hear this as I had none of the promised spotting or {gross alert!} mucus the other times. As she finished up inserting the gel I began to cramp really bad and I saw the nurse reach for two more pads to soak up the blood. Then she asked me to cough and I could feel that this was way more than spotting.

I was already in the room with the monitor so they had me sit up and when they moved me to the chair…THE HORROR {Read: blood everywhere}. At this point I could tell my midwife was moving fast but she was very calm and reassuring so I wasn’t panicking. She grabbed the monitor to check the baby’s heart rate and kept moving it around in different places, then she had me flip from side to side, as she attempted to find the heartbeat that was so strong and clear 20 minutes before.


At the same time the weird cramping that happened immediately after my membranes were stripped turned into full-blown contractions that hit me every 2 minutes. After frantically trying to find the heartbeat my midwife disappeared and returned with a wheelchair, very quickly but calmly explaining we had to go over to the adjoining hospital NOW.

Of Course this was the one appointment Bill couldn’t be at in the last few weeks so i grabbed my phone and texted him to meet me at the hospital, which he did not respond to. Luckily as I was rushed out to the elevator, he and Keaton were already in the waiting room so they ran along side me, Keaton thinking it was a fun race, Bill probably wondering what the fuck was going on- when he left me an hour before the baby was happy and snug inside of me and now we were in full-blown emergency mode. No one ever said “we can’t find the heartbeat” which I think kept us all calm, but we all knew something was very wrong.

Thankfully within a minute of getting hooked up to the monitor, Ezra’s heartbeat came across loud and clear and it wasn’t until I saw the look of sheer relief on my midwife’s face that I realized how scary the experience actually was. It happened so fast and the contractions were already hitting so close together that I didn’t have time to process what the hell just happened and by the time I did it didn’t matter because there he was, thump-thump-thumping away on the monitor.

After all the excitement, my contractions were a strong and regular 2 minutes apart {so yeah, gradual gel MY ASS}. The L&D nurse, who was so sweet and reassuring, checked me and I was almost a three. My midwife cancelled her appointments to stay with me and said that they would need to monitor me for an hour or so now that the bleeding had stopped but I should be able to go and pack things up if I wanted to try to labor at home for a while, as I didn’t seem to be dilating quickly. Poor Keaton had been sitting through all this, and while we reassured him that mama was just fine and that this is how having a baby starts, I could tell he was a little wigged out. We were waiting for my mom to come and get him but I thought if we could just go home so I could throw together a bag for me and get the kids stuff set, it would be so much easier.

Only by the time the hour was up my contractions were coming 30 seconds to one minute apart, just one on top of the other on top of another, with barely time to catch my breath. The midwife said, nope, no going home for you, so I kissed Keaton goodbye and my mom threw together a few items and brought them when she picked him up. After he was gone I felt like I could finally commit myself to the fact that sometime in the coming hours we would welcome our third child. Now it was time to get down to the business of getting this baby born.

Next up? I get to the actual birth part of this never-ending birth story. Probably…

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I know. I’m a terrible pregnancy blogger. But the shit? All of the shit? The GIGANTIC list of shit? I have got it almost all done. Exactly 10 days ago I had NONE of the shit done so this is incredibly impressive.

The great part about spacing SDjrjr almost five years after Keaton is that we have two very independent kids that will allow me to focus on the baby’s needs a lot easier than, say, having a 1, 2 or 3-year-old would. The bad part about the spacing is that we pretty much had to start over as far as what we need to actually care for this baby, making getting ready a pretty daunting experience of “what?! don’t we still have that?” and “why didn’t you look into your crystal ball and just KNOW that would come in handy five years later?”

Fortunately we were pretty organized and made a list and created a budget for what we would have to do and get. Unfortunately that list kept getting bigger and bigger and we could not purchase or do any of it until we switched back rooms with the kids. And did we want to do this? No we did not.

In May of 2009, Bill and I were fairly sick of sharing a room with a toddler who woke us up by blowing raspberries in our general direction at 7am every morning so we made the decision to give the kids the big master bedroom which is upstairs, and we took the small downstairs bedroom. I was sad to leave the big room but, wow, it ended up working out incredibly well for us. The kids and their toys were contained upstairs and after bedtime we had the run of the downstairs, not having to worry about waking the kids up during a heated game of Lord of the Ring’s Trivial Pursuit {GEEK ALERT LEVEL: EXTREMELY HIGH}. It really, really was a fabulous set-up for us but unfortunately the downstairs bedroom is so tiny that there is just no way we could conceivably fit all the stuff that a baby requires in there so we knew the kids would need to migrate south.

So do you remember the bunk beds? Yeah. They’re huge. This is mostly why we put this off for so long. We did not want to move them, but having Bill take the top bunk would have allowed him to get out of way too many night feedings, so the switch was on and with some help we somehow managed to fit the bunk beds, two dressers, a book-case, and the American Girl dolls and their paraphernalia all in the downstairs room without it looking too comical and we now have ample space for our queen bed, a long dresser that will double as a changing table, the crib, bassinet and rocker up with us. It was a huge project that took our entire Sunday for just the room swap and accompanied organization. Monday I focused on switching the closets, which was…not fun, and Tuesday I focused on switching the bathrooms which was… also not fun. But! It is done now and it cleared the way for us to start plowing through our giant list of baby items that we needed to either take out of storage or purchase.

Our major purchases were:

A new infant car seat. We used the same graco snugride for Rowan and Keaton but we got rid of it after Keaton outgrew it because we knew it would be a LONG time before we got back on the baby train and those things have an expiration date. I bought an adorable Combi seat from Baby on Grand but when we got it home the manufacturer’s date was from 2007. And I was very “Uh, what?” because I explicitly asked if it was a 2012 model and was told yes. Turns out the model I chose hadn’t been manufactured since early 2010 so we swiftly returned it and kept looking. My first instinct was to go Britax but Bill hates Britax with the fiery heat of a thousand suns because they are so incredibly hard to install and the straps twist easily and are near impossible to keep straight. Then I really wanted a Peg-perego seat but they were a hundred dollars more than any other infant seat and when I compared it to other seats the handle was way harder to move up and down, it was bumpier when you rocked it and it was two pounds heavier than our next choice, which was the Chicco keyfit. This is a pretty big deal because with all the activities and running around I have with Rowan and Keaton, I needed to really have the most comfortable choice both for the baby and myself. So I kissed the trendier seat goodbye and went with the Chicco which is supposed to be super safe, ridiculously easy to install and I got the snap in stroller frame to go with it as we’ll be in and out of dance 4-6 days a week {GAH!}. Does anyone else expend this much thought and brainpower over a flippin’ car seat? Yeah, I didn’t think so.

Next we needed a crib. I waxed pretty sentimental about our crib when it was time to take it down, but in truth it was a {now illegal!} drop-sided death trap which collapsed with Keaton in it when he was 13 months old {He was unharmed, THANK JEBUS, and even actually fell asleep while pinned, but yeah, that sucker got tossed}. We wanted something pretty small and simple because it has to go in our room and our kids have transitioned easily from crib to toddler bed right at 24 months so it’s not a super long-term thing for us but we needed a standard size crib for our mattress so it ended up costing us more than we really wanted to spend which was sort of par for the course.

Then we were onto clothes, as I mentioned here, we needed a ton of crap and I will be the first to admit that I’m an incredible, insufferable snob when it comes to boy’s clothes so that pretty much crosses much of the cheap stuff off as those manufacturers seem to think “boy”only equals monkeys, sports, bears or trucks and eh, I’m not a fan. I’m more of a stars, stripes and solids type of gal, with maybe a sweet, simple elephant or bird thrown in for good measure. Luckily, baby gap had a pretty good sale the last couple of weeks so I scored some cuteness for a reasonable price and was able to supplement with some some simple, everyday stuff from Target, Carter’s and some hand-me-downs from Bill’s co-worker, so big yay.

I want this baby fully cooked, but laying these out makes me VERY impatient for them to be all filled out with a squishy baby.

The other tough part about clothes is not knowing what size baby you’re going to get. Both Bill and I were in the mid-seven pound range when we were born and he was around 20 inches and I was over 21 so my doc told me to expect something similar when I was pregnant with Rowan. My belly consistently measured between one and two weeks behind but we were still told to expect something around seven so we skipped the newborn stuff and just got 0-3 month clothes for her, aaaaand out she comes, barely six pounds and only 18 inches. By the time we left the hospital she was under six pounds so we ended up having to go out and get a few preemie outfits because she was drowning in everything we had. So with Keaton I made sure to have plenty of newborn and a few preemie options washed and ready for him. Again I was consistently measuring about a week behind and I had an ultrasound at 35 weeks where the doctor guessed he was on the small side. Less than three weeks later he was born at 7 lbs, 6 oz and over 21 inches long so the newborn stuff just fit him and due to his height I couldn’t get any of the preemie stuff on him at all.

This time, again, I have been measuring a week and a half behind and my weight gain has not been as impressive as it should be in these last weeks but when my midwife felt my stomach to try to determine the baby’s positioning, she proclaimed he was head down {good, Baby, now STAY} and that he felt very long. Going off of that and the fact that we’re going to try to cloth diaper him a majority of the time which will add some bootie bulk, we opted for mostly 0-3 months stuff.

Other than these big purchases, we made a lot of little purchases that add up, such as a tub, car seat bundler, head support, sheets, lotions, soaps, creams, medicine, pacifiers etc. etc. The bad news is KERCHING, the good news is, I think we’re pretty much set for this little guy to make his appearance.

Another stressor off my plate this week was that we for sure settled on Sammy Davis Jr Jr’s name, which we mostly knew all along but wanted to be sure. Five years ago, Bill and I had a TERRIBLE time coming up with a name for Keaton but finally landed on one we not only agreed on but really loved. We then made the mistake of telling a few family members who were extremely vocal about not liking the name. I was nine months pregnant at the time and so incredibly emotional and hormonal which caused me to completely lose it and decide we couldn’t name the baby something that family members wouldn’t like. So after many hormone induced sobbing fits, we finally landed on Keaton and I really like his name but after the pregnancy hormones vacated my body and the rational part of my brain was once again restored, I was very WTF, Christy? This is YOUR baby. YOU get to pick the name YOU like. I then decided if we ever had another boy that I wouldn’t let it phase me if others didn’t like it. I happen to love it and the fact that Bill and I have vastly different taste in names and that we both love this one is a small miracle in and of itself.

That being said, we did want to be sure-sure so we perused the baby books which resulted in Bill only reading the funny sounding names and giggling to himself. He liked basically NOTHING else, while I made small stops at Preston, Holden and Cullen because they “go” better with Rowan and Keaton but ultimately we decided it was either Cullen or our original name and when I asked the kids they were both adamant that they liked the original name much better {as did Bill}.

“Why don’t you like Cullen?”

Rowan: It sounds too close to Colin and I’d get mixed up. ****’s way more better.

Keaton: It sounds too close to Gollum. {To my midsection:} HELLOOOOO BABY GOLLUM!!! ARE YOU CREEPY IN THERE? DO YOU WANT MY RING?

So Keaton sort of ruined Cullen for me which, fine, Twilight already sort of did that. So that really sealed it and I just ordered a personalized “little brother” onesie with his name on it so that is THAT.

And? I now have to start preparing to actually birth this baby, which, I’ve uh, sort of been in denial of these last few weeks. So wish me luck with THAT whole thing and I promise to try to fit in one or two more similarly scintillating updates before we meet our little guy.

PS~ Updated pregnancy photos…

Slightly less ghetto bedroom mirror picture at 34.5 weeks and…

Back to the ghetto bathroom pics for 36 weeks, what can I say, I’m nothing if not incredibly lazy with my pregnancy documentation. Also, me = GIGANTORINATOR.

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This is where I tell you I’m going to dutifully write weekly pregnancy updates from now until Sammy Davis Junior Junior makes his grand debut on the sunny side of my uterus and I stand by writing this as long as you all know that in all actuality it has about a 4% chance of happening. Did that make sense? No? Eh. The point is, is that I’m going to try to document the third trimester of this pregnancy in the hopes that I will one day re-read this and remember what a special magical time this is, or maybe more probable, to NOT EVER DO THIS AGAIN.

So let’s sum up the first 26 weeks of the pregnancy so we’re all on the same page…

Week 1: This is {TMI!} actually the first day of the last period I had. It was a pretty shitty day, considering we’d been trying to conceive and now I knew for certain that not only was I not pregnant but another grueling month of terrible, awful sex would now be on the docket. {Anyone who has ever had trouble conceiving knows that sex is all fine and good until you have to do it on a schedule and ohmygod ALL of the nights in a row, and you’re tired and it’s just sooooo muuuuch woooooooorrrrrk}. Anyway to make matters worse I was signed up for centers that morning in Rowan’s class and it also just so happened to be the day that one of the kid’s parents brought in their teeny tiny 6 day old baby for show and tell. I may or may not have had to excuse myself to the hall so I could hide from the adorable newborn lest I start sobbing and freaking out 29 Kindergartners.

Week 2-3: Aforementioned grueling schedule of terrible, awful sex {uh, Bill if you’re reading this, it’s not you…it’s me. Except it’s still kind of you.

Week 4: Am I? Yes, I totally am. Oh of course I’m not, it’s never going to happen. But maybe yes? NO DUMMY, NEVER. But possibly?

Week5: Is that a line? Um, it’s pretty faint. They say if it’s there at all it means yes but I’m pretty sure it doesn’t count if you have to stand on your head and cross your eyes to see it. BILL!! Am I imagining this? What do you mean there’s nothing there?! Quick! Stand on your head and cross your eyes…see, I TOLD you.

?!?!?!?!?!?! With my other pregnancies, both lines where immediately, unmistakably dark blue. After many tests, this is the darkest line I ever got this time around which completely confused me.

78 dollars worth of pregnancy tests later? Totally pregnant! Now I have to wait to see if the puking starts to know if I have a viable pregnancy.

5 weeks, 6 days: PUKE! YAY … sort of. Hormone check at OB confirms I have enough HCG to support a litter of gunterlings so yup, there’s a real, live baby in there.

6-14 weeks: Complete. Utter. Misery. Only time I leave my bed is to dry heave/throw up. Try desperately to keep small amounts of food down for an hour or two so I can avoid the hospital where they will fill me with fluids and high doses of zofran so I feel human for roughly 6 hours before crashing back down into terribleness. Do not want.

15 Weeks: manageable days start to invade the awfulness. I get out of the house a few times, with varying degrees of success. I can sit upright on the couch for portions of most days instead of being bed-ridden.

16 weeks: had a pretty good week! Starting to feel human again!

16 weeks.

Weeks 17-19: Worst sinus infection known to man, a side effect of which is throwing up from all the goo dripping down into my delicate flower of a stomach. Remember that whole fucking ONE week I went without puking?! THAT WAS NICE.

Week 20: Slowly recovering. Starting to take over with the kids full time again. Starting to look like a real live pregnant person. Sort of.

21 weeks.

Week 21 Sammy Davis Junior Junior is a Boy!! WOOT.

23 weeks!

Weeks 22-24: Finally feeling relatively good. Like so good I’m invincible! Do invincible people let babies push them around and make them throw up? Do invincible people need Zofran, a powerful anti-emesis drug? UM, I DON’T THINK SO.

25 weeks: Quit taking zofran.

25 weeks, 1 day: God, I feel awesome. Probably because I AM super awesome.

25 weeks, 2 days: Yep. Still rocking the awesome.

25 weeks 3 days: Hmm..I feel a little less awesome today. I’m probably just tired from being so awesome all those other days. Even awesome people need a-

25 weeks 4 days: PUKE. NAUSEA. FIRE. BRIMSTONE. ET CETERA. I had maybe not told Bill the first 2 days because I knew he wouldn’t agree with my decision to go off the pills but by the third day I confessed and boy was I right, which is all I thought while I  listened to him lecture me about how I tried to go off zofran with Rowan and Keaton later in my pregnancies and how it didn’t go so well either time and GOD he talks a lot, blah de blah blah. Well on day four, even though I wasn’t feeling great, I had a point to prove {which, if you’ve forgotten, was that I was awesome} so I smugly told him I’d have a nice big breakfast which he skeptically made and when I sat down and looked at the eggs, hash browns and toast I promptly ran to the bathroom and huuuuuuuuurrrrrrllllleeeeddd. When I opened the door, there he stood with a glass of water in one hand, my pill in the other and a rather stern look on his face that clearly said QUIT BEING DUMB, DUMMY. After three days of awful nausea as I let the drug work its way back into my system…

week 26: I was right as rain, which brings us to…


27 weeks and apologies for the crappy camera phone/ghetto bathroom mirror pics but after having exactly 7 photos combined of my pregnancies with Rowan and Keaton, I thought it would be nice to document this one a little better but I’m not actually committed enough to pull my nice camera out or have someone else shoot me for the occasion; Lazy, etc.

Other things I’ve learned in the last 27 weeks…

After a slow start, this baby is extremely active. I’m 90% positive the child is training for the Olympics in there and I just don’t have the heart to tell him that he’s going to be a couple of months late for his event which must be something in the gymnastics category for all the flipping going on. The boy kicks me wide awake at three in the morning, like, “sorry mom, this is when I like doing my jumping jacks and squats and some nights a few high kicks because that’s how I roll”.

Got his first case of hiccups on July 12, which would have been precious had I not been trying to drift off to sleep at 11pm.

Hates it when I cross my legs, and will kickKickKICK me in the cervix until I uncross them.That’s not nice, Baby.

I’ve also learned that while symptom-wise my pregnancies are largely the same, each one comes with its own unique properties. This time, it’s GIGANTIC knockers. Since I was about 15 years old I’ve been a 34B. Over the years I might fluctuate between Barely B or a B and a Half, minus those first couple of months of nursing when, holy hell, your boobs are giant triple D’s no matter what. This pregnancy, for whatever reason, I got the giants right away and they are ridiculous. And obnoxious. What do you even DO with boobs this big besides strap them down the best you can and try not to get hypnotized by your own incredibly impressive cleavage? Also I’m sort of scared shitless at how much bigger they’ll get when they actually have a job to do when the baby comes.

I think that’s it for this week! Tune in next week when I discus how much I’ve fallen in love with, not my baby {although he’s pretty great, too} but ALL OF THE ADORABLE BABY ETSYNESS because oh Lord, there is so much cute.

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