Two signs of summer. First, M. seems to have reached the perpetually skinned knee phase. Every 2-3 days, while we’re outside, she’ll decide to run down our driveway, which has a slight decline to it, catch her toes, and fall down, leaving her knees bloodied. She usually jumps up and looks at them, but a few times we’ve had some tears. We invested in some Elmo Band-Aids, so I think she might be doing it on purpose now.
I went back last weekend and skimmed a few of my posts from the first month or so of M.’s life. The constant lament was that I couldn’t get into a routine. Funny how things don’t change! I’m two weeks out of school and haven’t been able to get much accomplished. These damn newborns and their inability to take 2+ hour naps at the same time each day, along with their constant need for attention while awake!
The phrase I’ve been using way too much recently: “M! Get your finger out of your nose!” We were at the library Sunday, and I swear she was just standing around, finger in her nostril, almost the entire time. Since the other girls were at home, she made me look like Father of the Year again. My exclusive, exhaustive look at the World Cup so far and what’s to come over the next two weeks will drop sometime Monday.
We had several house guests over the past few days. Three, in fact, occupied our various beds and couches last night. As much fun as it is to entertain, there’s something about the quiet that descends upon a home after all the guests have left and the kids are in bed. We took M. on her first real walk tonight. By real walk, I mean she walked rather than rode in a stroller or wagon or some other device that was parent powered.
Many visitors, surprising amounts of sleep, and schoolwork have kept me from finally getting a summary of what’s been going on posted. Below the jump, your first update on what life with two kids has been like in the home of the blogger. It’s still a little hard for me to believe that the wife made it all the way to our scheduled c-section date. We were both quite convinced that the water would break early and we’d have to head in before May 17.
I have no idea how much sleep I got last night. C. was actually quite cooperative, but there’s something about those hospital, pull-out couches that keep you from falling asleep comfortably. Of course, I didn’t have a big incision in my stomach that required at least five different kinds of pain meds to mask, so I can’t complain too much. I know I slept from 10:30 to 11:30, then again a bit between 1:00 and 3:00.
Baby C. Seven pounds, nine ounces, 20 inches long. Mom, dad, and big sister M. are all healthy and very happy to welcome our newest addition.
Here we are, 26 hours from a scheduled c-section and it looks like we’ll make it. I was convinced Little Sister would show up last weekend, for several reasons. But she’s so far refused to budge. People say we should be enjoying our final days of just having one kid, but that’s impossible. S. is miserable. When the kid isn’t kicking her or she doesn’t have monster acid reflux, she’s got a foot or head or something pushing on a nerve that makes her left leg go totally numb.
I realized today we’re in for a rude awakening when daughter #2 arrives. How? Well, over the last six weeks, M. has settled into an excellent sleep schedule. Sometime around 7:00 PM, she gets a bath. Then we either play with her toys or watch a Baby Einstein DVD until just before 8:00. That’s when we pull out her stack of bedtime books and work through them on the living room couch.
Pearl Jam’s self-titled, eighth studio album arrived in my mailbox a little over a week ago. After many spins of both the disk and the iPod’s hard drive, I can agree with the majority of professional reviewers: it’s a damn fine album. Calling it a return to form is problematic: it matches the intensity of those early albums, but it isn’t groundbreaking and genre-defining the way they were. I’ve always been a fan and thus have always found something positive in even their most uneven releases.
I’ve lost my 4.0. Not unexpected, and not catastrophic either. I got an A and a B+ this semester, dropping my GPA to 3.86. Still higher than pretty much any point in my previous academic history. The B+ was actually a surprise. I was thinking B as best case, B- as the probably grade.
No trip to the hospital yet, which leaves time for an update on M.. It’s official: I’m going to become one of “those” parents. M. has been exhibiting all kinds of strange, i.e. early development, behaviors recently and I’ve decided she’s a little prodigy. That big head is full of brain, apparently! She knows at least eight colors; all the ones in her starter pack of washable crayons. She can count to three and knows the number 8 on sight.
The final weeks of pregnancy! Or, as women like to call it, hell. It’s safe to say S. is extremely uncomfortable. Skin feels like it can’t stretch anymore, but there is constant pressure from inside. An urge to go to the bathroom every five minutes because there’s a foot or head or arm pushing on your bladder. A complete inability to get comfortable in bed, which leads to hours of tossing and turning (In unrelated news, I slept better last night that I’ve slept in months!
I just shot my research paper down to Bloomington via the wonders of the Internet. A hugely frustrating experience. I literally worked on it all day yesterday, from 7:00 AM until 1:30 AM this morning, and had almost nothing to show for it. I’d crank out 5-600 words in a section, decide I hated it, delete it all, then move to another section and repeat. At 10:00 PM last night I literally had less words saved than I had when I cracked open the Powerbook in the morning.
S. had a sonogram this afternoon to make sure all was well with our little Sister Fetus. That was confirmed. Estimated weight is six pounds, three ounces at 36 weeks. For comparison, M. was born at 38 weeks and weighed in at six pounds, eight ounces. #2 is generally bigger than #1 (something to do with the muscles on mommy’s abdomen already having been stretched beyond their limit once), so this wasn’t a surprise.
I’ve not shared one of M.’s favorite foods with the group. She loves humus. We give her a little container of it and she dips pretzels, cheese, and bread into it and goes to town. Today is a Mr. Mom day for me. We’re getting close to needing a trip to the grocery store. M. was hungry and begging for pretzels, which we’re out of. So, I gave her humus and toddler-sized pieces of some hint of lime Tostitos.
Leaves are apparently M.’s first irrational fear. Thursday was a perfect day: 82, no humidity, gentle breeze, sunny skies; so we spent most of the day outside. We got her a sandbox on Tuesday, so she played in that a lot. She ran into the neighbors' yard to trick us into letting her climb on their tree house. I mowed and trimmed the yard while she “helped” S. sweep the garage.
A little over two weeks and two papers to go, and then this semester will be done. I’ll have a short break, as I’m taking one class in the first summer session, again in Bloomington. So from May 8 through June 15, or something like that, I’ll be commuting to B-town three days a week to take a magazine writing class. Should be fun and interesting, since that’s kind of where I see my career headed.
The latest doings of my daughter. The Post-Pacifier Era has gone relatively well. Naps are a problem; she’s pretty much not taking them most days. Bedtime was actually very good the first three nights. For some reason since then, we’ve had difficulty. But that corresponds with Daylight Savings Time and the sun being up until about 8:00. Even though her bedtime was right around 7:00 for months, she’s had no trouble staying up an hour later.
We are now a pacifier-free household. Hopefully. This morning, we took M. outside, tied two of her binkies to balloons (the rest had been deposited in the trash earlier), counted down, and sent them “to the babies in heaven.” It worked for the Newman family; we’re hoping the technique works for us. She seemed more interested in the balloons than the fact her binkies were tied to them, although earlier in the morning she had a meltdown when we showed her what was about to happen.