Chew on this

My baby got a tooth the other day. This was a big relief because for months now we've been assigning any and all pointless fussing, drooling, etc to Teething. He's a little more than a week shy of 6 months. Is that early teething? I forget, and am too lazy to look it up. Anyway, the tooth is so cute. Sharp though!

My husband has been complaining about the messiness of the massive drooling that his big baby boy is doing, and I pointed out that he is cutting teeth, which lays open his gums to infection, and is putting all kinds of nonsense in his mouth. I'm glad his mouth is on permanent rinse mode! Otherwise he'd certainly get sick, is my guess. Neat how nature takes care of us.

I am in denial over Christmas, and am way behind on shopping/cookie baking/decorating. We're traveling to my mom's in CA (a 12+ hour flight from Dublin) and my main concern is surviving that. Thanks goodness I'm breastfeeding.

Checking in

I feel like I have been blogging a lot lately, because while I am walking home from dropping Child 1 at school I usually write one in my head, with titles like:

- Oversensitive Moms
- What Is the Deal with My Stomach
- Baby in a (sleeping) bag
- Brain Entropy

But actually, as you can see, I have been totally non-communicative. Why? See blog 4 above. Wait, I didn't actually write it...
sigh.

My baby boy is the same size as his cousin, who is 2 months older. He also is about 10 times as active. It's the weirdest thing, seeing two babies at opposite ends of the spectrum. The cousin is really mellow, likes to nap, sits still, and contemplates his toys. Our baby usually has all four limbs kicking and grabbing, won't nap, tries to crawl and destroys/eats toys. I'd feel comfortable giving odds on who's going to be getting the wedgies in years to come.

P.S. Happy Thanksgiving.

ye olde Ireland

It's been an interesting week: 4 year old was diagnosed with a chest infection after weeks of coughing and put on antibiotics/pure morphine drops (which she enjoyed). Baby being insufferable but by all accounts not all that sick; have bottle of baby antibiotics at the ready just in case anyway. Halloween was a kind of washout, as K was too sick to trick or treat. As a result we were stuck at home with insufficient candy and a crooked pumpkin. Her little friends on the street brought her a selection from their stashes, though, so she made out OK. My neon orange wig was a hit, I think. No one asked what I was supposed to be. I guess if you are wearing jogging shoes, spitup-stained pants and a baby strapped to your chest people assume the worst. After the candy rush we drove to Sligo, the Ireland of the misty dreams and postcards. See for yourself - the drive, (unphotographed) was surreal and magical due to the fireworks and bonfires everyone sets here on the night. It was like driving through hyperspace. Wild.

Also, I think I may have gone mad - two reasons:
- started book club (first meeting tomorrow - will it be a wine-and-good-times or tea-and-scones type of affair?)
- have sensation that I want two more babies (why?)

Happy Halloween -

sun baby

Look Away Now

So, I was out having coffee with two local moms today, while our 4 year olds were in "ballet" class. (As far as I can tell, they run around pretending to be butterflies, or fairies, do good toes/naughty toes and call it a day.) Somehow we got to trading birth stories. I usually manage to freak people out with either a) the manual placenta removal and ensuing hemorrhage story or b) the Bell's Palsy horror. But one mom, let's call her Mary, kicked the ass of my stories. To summarise: her baby was born

-breech
-vaginally
-WITHOUT AN EPIDURAL.

And, it turned out afterwards, she wasn't fully dilated for the birth (of a 10 pound baby), her placenta wouldn't birth itself, and she had a massive hemorrhage. She actually tore her cervix. After the birth she went into surgery for 3 hours, and as she puts it, a torn cervix is not easy to repair. (As the perineum presumably is?)

At this point, I nearly excused myself to go to the ladies' room to hyperventilate. She went on to say that she lost 75% of her own blood and was given transfusions. And, I learned something new today: blood transfusions make blood go to all kinds of inappropriate places in your body, making your feel completely discombobulated. (Is discombobulated a word, or did my mom make it up? I should check on this.) Mary was unable to move or see the baby for 48 hours. I had been wondering why she wasn't breastfeeding - it would have been impossible.

The bizarre part is that a month after the birth I saw her skipping around ferrying her daughter to Montessori and so forth, weighing around 90 pounds and looking gorgeous with her long blonde hair and fashionable tracksuits. How on earth can this happen? I'd like to start a sweepstake on whether she goes for a third child - it's all the rage in Dublin these days to have three. (It used to be 6+, but that's another story.)

all going well

This weekend, so far, is going much better than last week's. Last week it poured rain the whole time, and we spent Saturday watching Yuri hammer chunks out of the hardwood floor to stop it popping up, and Rostyk shake his head over the state of our laptops (which are riddled with spyware.) The guys that do, and have done, all the work on our house, are trained computer engineers and from the Ukraine. However, they have found that there is a lot more money in Ireland doing things like installing heaters and hammering people's wooden floors. Rostyk is about 5'8", built like an acrobat, and has absolutely no hair on his head, including eyebrows. Yuri has hair, and Janet fancies him; I heard she even had a dirty dream about him last week.

Anyway, my little baby is teething, and was in a foul mood all last week. He pretty much cried all weekend, except for when I was nursing him or when he was being driven at high speeds down the freeway. It was like we were back to square one again, with an impenetrable newborn. I found myself craving vodka. Fortunately there was none in the house, and I had forgotten about the bottle of absinthe behind the bran flakes.

So things are going much better now. Both children seem happy today, and I even kept my little girl away from the TV for almost the entire day. The best news is I found a babysitter, who is a lovely girl with loads of nanny experience and is studying complementary therapies. She hasn't actually babysat yet, but the comfort in finding her is immense! I have just booked tickets to Mahler Symphony No. 2. Celebrate good times!

all grown up

My little girl had her first day at school. I thought I was going to cry - but I suspect the people in charge of her school are aware of this tendency in moms and arranged the day in such a fashion that there was no real opportunity for it. On the first day, we brought them in, sat them down, and they had a party. Every place had a bag of popcorn, a box of orange juice, a lollipop and a chocolate. Which do you think they pounced on first? Yeah, the orange juice...No-oo!!!

Moms were ushered into the auditorium for a hellish hour of shouting to each other over plastic cups of coffee. I was "wearing" a baby at the time to boot so it wasn't relaxing, but the baby fell asleep anyway. Why not serve wine and canapes? Honestly.

The scary thing is, since then, a few moms actually seem to remember my name and say hello to me - how they retained any knowledge from the barrage of information on that day is beyond me. This supports my sneaking suspicion that I am, in fact, of substandard brain capacity. Also that Irish people are a highly sociable breed, able for remembering complex things like...names.

The children were totally unfazed by the experience. Starting school was truly no big deal for my little girl, only 4 years old and already wearing a navy pinafore with a starched shirt and - somewhat hilariously - a tie.

Two weeks in, we've clarified that PE has nothing to do with pee-ing, and that Homework is for Big Kids. Still, we march in with a proper school backpack, suitable for carrying books and A4 notebooks, but stuffed only with a ham sandwich and a raincoat (just in case. we're in Ireland, people.)

Anyway, the few hours of isolation with Baby are no punishment. As he won't nap, I'm never lonely, and besides, I am deeply in love with that little cuddly bundle. It's kind of sad to see. I could stare at him all day. He's so lovely.

x

Lies, lies and more lies

My daughter is starting primary school tomorrow. (She's 4 - that's when they start here in Ireland). Apparently the first day is only an hour long and is a party. I didn't enquire into the details of said party, but assumed there would be name tags, snacks, and maybe a game. My daughter has been suspiciously quiet about the looming watershed of starting Big School, so I was trying to chat to her a bit about it today. She started asking me about when I started school when I was a little girl, and I assured her that my first day was a party too. "Really? Tell me all about that, mommy," she said, perking up.

I cannot remember a single thing about my first day at school, so I made some stuff up. "Uh, we sang some songs," I said, my mind racing for ideas. "Then we played a game, and had cupcakes." She wanted to know fine details about the game, the songs, and what kind of cake. I can't remember what I said. Hopefully whatever they do at the Party tomorrow will eclipse any stories I made up today. This could get me in trouble. Especially if there is no cake.

ephemeral, eternal

I feel like I should try and explain how it feels to have a baby; all I can do is attempt to explain how it felt to have my baby. One thing I think all mothers are in agreement with, though. It rocks your world, truly. It's your Samurai Warrior trial. It's the Reckoning. It's Armageddon. The baby is coming whether you like it or not.

A digression: it often occurs in discussion, and literature, this crux of the delivery experience where the mother tries to opt out. For me, it was the moment when, after four hours of painful labor and dramatic waters breaking, I said to my husband, in a small voice, "I'm not sure I can do this." I guess I hoped he'd spring into action and run at the midwife shouting "She can't do this, woman! Sort it out!" I did end up projecting on the anaesthesiologist (sp?) that he was the antichrist, for not showing up - but then, I did let it go an awfully long time. It seems I wanted to feel the pain, for a while. Not like with my first. I was anxious to get drugged asap with her.

Anyway, this is the reason women (child bearing ones anyway) have a unique sisterhood that men can never understand. (sorry.) I have been through medical Hades - disastrous accident, several major surgeries, long spells in ICU, ongoing physical traumas - and can say for sure that childbirth is the most painful and scary of them all. But maybe that is because you are so anxious for the the little baby you have produced. All you want is to see that little face. And body. And adorable little toes...again I digress.

Having a new baby in my arms is the happiest feeling I have ever felt. And if that sounds generic, let me put it this way: the feeling is proportional to the saddest you've ever felt. Like, if your dad died (mine did) and you saw your mom cry. It's as happy as that is sad.

I wonder if any men read this blog. How do you feel, really, when your children are born? It must be unique in its own way.

Early days

I really have been lagging on the blogging front. I also have been lagging on other things, among them brushing my teeth, doing my hair, cutting my nails, talking to people, eating, etc. The good news is that my purely breastfed baby has gained about a pound a week (OK, I am exaggerating) but he is positively huge and doing very well. My face is about 70% recovered - when I can smile properly again I might even post a picture of myself. This has been a real character-building experience.

Can anyone tell me how to break the habit of sleeping with the baby and feeding on demand? I kind of enjoy this but I can see how it could bite me in the proverbial ass in months to come.

More delightful postings to come, documenting my amazing birth experience and first days home.

love and kisses
Second-time mom

My baby is born

He's here! I love him. I love him so much!

He's just perfect.

The Dealbreaker

I would like to announce that this is definitely, positively for sure my last baby. Yes, I know I have been saying how I love babies and never say never, but I take it all back. The reason is because I absolutely refuse to be pregnant ever again.

It is the latest pregnancy complication I have been lumbered with: Bell's Palsy. Have you heard of it? Neither had I.

Basically, what happens is, the nerves somewhere in your middle ear/back of neck that control your face inflame due to pregnancy, and one side of your face becomes paralyzed. Yep, you look like a Dali painting, have to drink through a straw, slur your words and can't blink one eye. It is sooooooo horrible. And the nifty thing is: it lasts for months! You start with a raging headache, and all of a sudden can't move your face. I am on day 3 of it, and went to the hospital because my eye hurt so much. They actually gave me some eyedrops that are in fact helping. They blur my vision horrendously, but I can live with that. It's the pain I object to more than anything.

Note: apparently none of this affects the baby at all.

So in case you are someone who knows me, please don't visit until the baby is six weeks old at least. You may be horrified by the sight of me.

Well, I suppose I should take it down a notch and admit that, at this point anyway, it could be a lot worse. One side of my face is sagging a little but I don't have the droopy eye (yet anyway) and from the right angle you might not notice right away that I look freaky. I can't taste my food which is very annoying, and talking with half of your mouth is no fun at all though, so I am not in the best of moods. I am praying that it won't get too much worse and that I'll be in the demographic that recovers in a few months. Some people don't.

So there you are, beat that for pregnancy horror stories. At least it's nothing to do with the bundle of joy (for which I am most certainly grateful, please understand) but it's vintage bad luck.

I am reeeally looking forward to having the baby born.

Tick, tock, tick

I now constantly feel as if I am going to have a baby any minute. I have more or less constant mild period-like pains and suspect that I am leaking amniotic fluid. (sorry, was that more information than you needed?) I also am able to go to sleep at virtually any moment. This is significant for me; I don't like to sleep long hours, rarely nap, and even have trouble sitting down for long, in my normal life. If I do sit down, I am one of those annoying leg jigglers that drive people crazy. I think both of my children are destined to take after me judging by current levels of activity, which is unfortunate.

OK, the good news of today is that I have hired someone to clean my house. Yep, I've been saying I would do it for years now, and finally got around to finding someone. Her name is Gulie, and she is from Georgia (former member of the USSR, not the southern state.) Georgia isn't a million miles from the Ukraine, and my Ukrainian grandma is a great housecleaner (among other things). I may be reaching here. Anyway, hopefully this will work out, as I am now physically incapacitated and the house is getting rough around the edges. It has been really bugging me to notice things like the dust accumulating under the couch and be unable to do anything about it - I could ask the Hub to do it, but I think I may have reached critical mass with my constantly asking him to pick up things from the floor and do things for our daughter while I sit on the couch like a lazy cow. I still cook the dinners, however, with the caveat that whatever it is must be cooked in one pot. We've had a lot of pasta and stews lately. No one dares complain.

Conversations with babies (2)

After putting a chocolate cake into the oven, 4 year old goes to town on the bowl used to melt the chocolate:

Mom: You really love licking the bowl, don't you.
Kid: I think I'll lick bowls until I'm 19.
Mom: Oh really?
Kid: (holding up a chocolate finger) Only in the house though.

Don't try this at home

I thought I was having the baby on Monday, but no sign of him yet. I'll tell you why I thought I was in labor - I woke up with a stabbing pain in my lower back accompanied by nausea. Later on the pain spread to the front, which was when we decided it was time to get the medical authorities on the case. They sent me home saying to take a break. I went to sleep for the afternoon and that was it, no more labor pains. I'm not sure if I'm glad or not - I do have some things to do this week, but I really have had it up to here with carrying this bowling ball (with attitude) around in my stomach. Last night the kicking and squirming kept me up all night. Delightful.

I think my false labor was brought on by the birthday party I gave for my daughter's 4th. There were 10 kids, but it felt like 100. It was an interesting study in child psychology - some of them turned a bit evil, like the 5 year old girl who took all the candy from the pinata and refused to share. And the other 5 year old girl was so overwhelmed by the melee that she had to retreat to the living room by herself and watch tv. And the mess! How did that grass get in the toilet? When did the front windows get scribbled with crayons? Why are there dismembered Barbie parts in the fridge? All children's parties are off-site from now on.

jitters

I think I am getting ill. I have that creepy headache-behind-the-eyes one gets when a flu is about to strike. Or, it could just be an effect of my sleep deficit. Last night I was really angry about something, and cried for a while; after that, I couldn't seem to sleep and stayed up until 2:00 reading The Fountainhead. The final stretch of pregnancy is getting to me .

My bump is like a shelf. When I am sitting down I could rest a of cup of coffee and a muffin on it. My braxton hicks contractions are starting to hurt.

I went on maternity leave this week (a bit early) because a) I have been struggling physically b) I think the baby's going to come early and c) the office is in crisis with the investors and I'd say it is a blessing not to have to pay me for this month. I need to race around and get all the baby gear together, and try to look after myself a bit better. You know you are apathetic when you eat cereal for two out of your three daily meals and pizza for the third. I also need to get a pedicure, as I can't reach my feet any more.

housewives
I also spent some time socialising with a few of the full time moms on my new street today. All come from (self-described) high-powered careers in things like PR. I wouldn't describe my marketing career as high-powered really. I mean, it has been a little stressful at times, but nothing unusual. More interesting was the concern they all have with renovating the house and interior design. Obviously, the family who sold this house to us was not keeping up with the Joneses, as it were. Everybody else seems to have skylights, expensive duvets, curtains that match the couch, playrooms, elaborate gardens, etc. I'm glad we at least stuck in hardwood floors and some antique mirrors. And repainted. Not that I feel compelled to compete with the neighbors, mind you.

big is beautiful

So, I found out today that my unborn baby is already over 6 pounds. That's acceptable newborn-size! At this rate I think we might hit 10 pounds. I'm not sure that's going to work. People already think I look ridiculously pregnant.

I'm glad though. It's better for the baby to be big - at least I know that if he comes early, he'll probably be OK. I might have problems in the birth - but we'll cross that bridge when we come to it.

Agh

I got an email from one of the pregnancy websites saying YOUR BABY COULD COME AT ANY TIME NOW. My hospital bag is not packed! I still have to get baby boy clothes and a crib, and shop for a jogging stroller. Then it hit me (again), that being pregnant means you are Out Of Control.

Ultimately, you don't decide when the baby is born, the baby does. (Unless you get a voluntary c-section). And I swear, every day that baby makes decisions without asking me. He makes me take naps. He makes me too tired to do things, and starts kickboxing when I want to go to bed for the night. He also is currently using my bladder as a pillow, which makes me need the bathroom every 10 minutes.

As I am a second-time mom though, I try not to dwell to long on any of this, because as bizarre as it all is, it is nothing like the control the baby has when he gets out. That's when you REALLY can't go out, and REALLY can't sleep due to loud crying/constant feeding.

So really, pregnancy is like boot camp for moms - tough but nothing compared to the real thing. Wouldn't you agree?

these are a few of my favorite things

I am now 33 weeks pregnant and am almost as tired and cranky as I was in the first trimester. Although, some days are better than others - it depends on how much sleep I've had and how well my 3 year old is behaving.

Here's a list of things I'd rather be doing than being at work today:
1. getting a massage
2. taking a nap
3. going for a swim
4. having a snack
5. shopping for glamorous jammies to wear in hospital

Here are my favorite things to eat at the moment:
1. pineapple
2. artichokes
3. pizza
4. hummus
5. cereal

I have also have a real craving for beer - what is that about?

Conversations with babies (1)

I heard this exchange between my husband and little girl (LG) when she was about 18 months and he was changing her diaper:

H: "We've got to get you out of these nappies!"
LG: "Why?"
H: "I don't like poo, you know."
LG: "Do you like pee?"

And then there were two (more)

My sister in law had her baby today! It's weird to think we were all sitting around the table on Monday translating Wagner and Wednesday she has a little baby boy. I was so used to her being pregnant, it seemed to go on forever. My friend K had her baby on Friday too - I am the last lonely pregnant person here. However, I am experiencing vicariously that amazing happiness you feel just after having a baby. I might have a stab at putting the feeling into words after my next little baby comes, if that's possible.

Tonight I experience the creepy joy of having my entire house to myself - my daughter is with her granny and my husband is (as per usual) away doing his consulting job. He is away a lot, but I'm used to it. Besides, as he points out, the money is a lot better than if he had a regular local 9 to 5 job. He configures operational systems. A while back he printed a few business cards that said "We'll configure your ass if the money's right."

Easter in Dublin

Hello -

It is the Tuesday after Easter and I am worn out from eating so many candy-coated mini eggs, large pure chocolate hollow eggs, chocolate bunnies, and truffle eggs. I ate so much that my endorphins turned on me and actually put me in a bad mood - my husband unplugged the phone while I was talking to my parents and I was peeved for the rest of the day. Easter really is mostly about chocolate and a three-day weekend, but here is the version of why Easter is a holiday that I gave my 3-year-old:

Easter is a holiday because it's the day that Jesus went home to be with his dad and watch over everybody. Jesus was a really important teacher, and he died. Everybody was really sad, but a few days later he got up and wasn't dead any more! He went up in the sky to live with his dad again, and everybody was happy about that. That's why there's a party on Easter.

This may be oversimplifying, but that is a whole other discussion.

In her little mind, Christmas wasn't that long ago, which was all about the Baby Jesus, so she quickly fixated on the idea that Jesus used to be a little baby, but then grew up to be a big man who died for a while. Her main concern is the chocolate (on both Christmas and Easter), but at least she isn't 100% ignorant of the historical reasons we have these holidays.

Dublin is a great place to be on Easter (provided it isn't pouring down rain), because everybody leaves for a few days in the countryside. Did you ever see that movie Night of the Comet where a comet turns everybody who sees it to dust and the world is a ghost town? It's kind of like that. Normally, Dublin really bustles and we have problems with traffic, getting reservations in restaurants, long lines in the grocery store, and so on, and I always enjoy a break from that. One big drawback to Dublin at Easter is that you cannot buy alcohol on Good Friday. Liquor stores (they call them off-licenses) are closed, grocery stores won't sell it, restaurants won't sell it. The result is, most Irish people stock up beforehand so that they have something to drink at home. Someone told me that it ends up being the biggest drinking night of the year. If you arrived as a tourist and didn't know this, you'd be completely baffled. You'd be in the middle of one of the cities most famous for boozing the world over, and not allowed to drink.

Things like the non-drinking Good Friday are quintessentially Irish. Other things I would put in the same category are the fact that abortion is illegal here, and divorce has only been legal since 1995. People have their ways of getting around things though. For one, you can do whatever you like in the UK, and you can practically swim there from here.

I am going to resist the urge to cram too much into my first blog entry. Next time I log on, I'll talk about being pregnant and other fascinating topics.........