Home again home again...

It's Thursday and we're all finally home again. Lillian was released from the hospital at 10 am today and we almost ran out of the hospital in case they decided to keep us in longer. My Mom dropped Nicholas off a few hours later, and for the first time in 6 days we are a family under the same roof.

Lillian has been seizure-free since Sunday so the medication seems to be working. She'll be on it for a month and hopefully it'll be smooth sailing the whole way through. I still get frightened that she'll have another seizure at any moment, but the panic of the weekend is subsiding. Since the seizures could potentially return later in life I don't think it's a fear I'll ever totally be rid of.

Thank you to everyone for your support over the past few days. The phone calls, e-mails, and prayers have been very much appreciated. Knowing how many people were thinking of us has made this trial much easier to get through.

A picture and an update

This one is for Sean. I do believe that this is the only picture we have of Liam holding Lillian. It's either because he's the one who takes all the pictures or because she's constantly attached to my boob.

We seem to be making some progress in the eating/sleeping cycles. Lillian is actually sleeping for up to four hours at a time and eating all in one go before dozing off again. All I need now is for her to start scheduling some of those four-hour sleeping chunks during the night.

Liam had his best diaper-changing experience yesterday. He got to change a dirty diaper and jinxed himself by saying "This is going to be the easiest one yet" since there was hardly anything in it. No sooner had the words left his lips than Lillian let loose all over the change pad. Then, to top it off, she peed as well. That's my girl.

Baby pictures!!

Liam got the pictures onto the computer today! So...here are some Lillian pics for all to enjoy.

The new happy family.

Mom and baby a few minutes after birth.

Momma and baby a few hours after birth.

A sideways sleepyhead shot.

The classic scale photo. She does have two arms in real life, though.

Kinda fuzzy, but oh-so-cute.

And on that note, Miss Screechy-Pants demands her dairy bar.

There really was a baby in there!!

Despite my late-pregnancy doubtings, there really was a baby in that huge old belly of mine. I gave birth on Sunday to a beautiful little girl who we named Lillian Marie. She's beautiful, girlie, and perfect (a fact which the resident pediatrician officially confirmed).

Our little bundle weighed in at 6 lbs 14 oz and measures 21 inches long. She's my tall skinny girl! She's got lots of long dark hair, and her eyes are that pretty undefined grey/blue color that newborns are so famous for.

There will be pictures and more details soon, but that's all my brain can handle for now!

My oh so cool life

I feel like doing some updates, but I'm not feeling particularly long-winded (for once) so I'm going to use bullets. Bullets are fun.

• I'm now one day away from my "official" due date. Still no baby. Nuff said.

• I've been walking a lot again. Yay! I walked Nicholas to school yesterday afternoon, which took me 30 minutes. In the evening we went on a group tromp in the woods and it took us an hour and a half. Not bad for a hugely pregnant lady if I do say so myself. I did have to make a visit to the bushes, though. Damn you and your coffee Krista!

• Nicholas went to his first full afternoon of kindergarten. I'm still digesting my feelings on it, so I'll probably blog on it later. I'm proud to say that I managed not to cry until I got back home. Woo!

• I'm now just shy of 800 pages into Gone With the Wind. I just may finish it before baby shows up. I'm amazed at how little I remember of the story. It's only been 5 years since I read it last! My hormones ate my brains.

And that is all. Pretty exciting life I lead.

The waiting game.

No, we haven't had the baby yet. No, I'm not in labor.

Those seem to be the two things everyone wants to know these days, so I thought I'd get that cleared up right away.

I'm now three days from my due date and aside from infrequent painful contractions (which mostly seem to happen at night so that I wake up again and again) we have no sign of our baby making his/her grand entrance yet. I was really hoping to have the baby this weekend, especially after learning that our doctor will be gone after Wednesday, but no matter how excited/frustrated/worried I get nothing is happening.

We've now got friends phoning us specifically to ask if we've had our baby yet. I told Liam I don't mind people calling once because it's nice to know we're being thought of, but I'm already impatient enough to get this show on the road without everyone I know telling me they're waiting too. Friends who don't hear from us for a few days assume we're at the hospital, my parents think I'm calling to tell them I'm in labor each time I call, and Liam keeps calling home to ask if I'm in labor yet.

Nicholas also starts his first full afternoon of kindergarten tomorrow, so now we've got school to throw in the mix. He actually told me he wants the baby to be born tonight so he can skip tomorrow and go Friday instead. Hhmm...coming up with excuses to skip class a little early are we kiddo?

The end is near.

It's official. I'm exactly 12 days away from my official due date. While this whole due date thing is obviously not an exact science, it does mean that I'm really freaking close to giving birth to this baby. It could happen any day between now and 3 1/2 weeks from now.

I've known since Nicholas was two minutes old that I wanted more children. I didn't know how or when until the whole Liam thing happened, but I knew I was headed in that direction. Throughout our dating days and engagement period, Liam and discussed when we would have more kids and it wasn't too long after we officially tied the knot that we decided to make the big leap. Two months later, we sat in the living room staring at a little stick, Liam with a look of glee on his face and me with "Holy shit, what have we done?" screaming in my brain.

Almost exactly 8 months later, I sit here with an abdomen that greatly resembles a watermelon in both size and stripes, feet that don't fit any normal shoes I own, and ankles that lack anything even remotely close to ankle bones. And I wait.

Every day Nicholas and I discuss whether or not the baby will be born that day. Every time I drive by the hospital I say to my belly "We're right near the hospital. Any thoughts on coming out?". And every time I talk to a friend I repeat the same "No, there's no baby yet" phrase. And I wait.

On the one hand, I can't wait for this baby to be born. I'd really like my body back, and I'd really like to be able to walk up the stairs without feeling like I've just sprinted around the block. I'm also concerned about what I'll do if my sandals no longer fit. I also have to admit that the idea of wearing something other than my black maternity capris and Liam's U of L shorts is akin to the midwinter dreamings of warm spring mornings.

On the other hand, I've still got one foot firmly planted in "I'm not yet ready for this baby" world. The biggie, obviously, is going through labor. As much as I've prepared myself and created a support system which includes Liam and my doula Kara, it looms in front of me like a huge stormcloud full of unknown possibilities. There are also many small things which cause me to mentally hesitate. This may be my last pregnancy and I may never again experience the joys of feeling my child's body move inside of my own. Nicholas will never again be my only child. Our lives will be dramatically changed as a new little soul comes into our home.

I think it's a good thing that labor starts spontaneously. If I were able to control when it started, I'd wait until I felt totally ready and I can't say that that time would ever actually arrive. I'm ready, and I'm not. In the end the choice of when this baby arrives won't be up to me, but I do know that the moment my child is placed in my arms will be the exact right moment.

What ever happened to my 100 things?

I made it through the first 50 things about myself but somehow I fizzled out after that. I can't say that I'll tell 100 things then only do half that. That would be oh so wrong. So, here we go...

51) My natural hair color is brown, but I've dyed it red and black. I've also had blonde streaks. I've sworn never to dye my hair again, at least not while I've got it long.

52) When I was a little kid I used to think it'd be cool to be a rock star, but I'm too shy to sing in front of anyone other than Nicholas.

53) My favorite color is blue.

54) I've had 6 different homes in my life.

55) I've had stitches 6 times. Coincidence? Hhmm...

56) I get cold sores. I despise them. I have one now and I want to rip off my lip.

57) I am currently 38 weeks pregnant and want the baby to come OUT.

58) When I was angry as a kid, I used to imagine that I was adopted.

59) I now wear my wedding and grad rings on a chain around my neck because my fingers are too puffy to get them on and off. And on the same note, only three pairs of my shoes fit me now.

60) I have a hard time believing that I'm a "real" grownup. I still feel like I'm pretending at the whole mom and wife thing.

61) Half of my front right tooth is fake. I smashed it when I fell off my bike as a kid and landed on my face. Ouch.

62) I don't like scary movies. They scare me. Being scared is bad.

63) I used to pay for my horse's board by cleaning out stalls. I kind of miss being sweaty and smelling like horse poo.

64) When Liam tricked me into thinking he wasn't going to propose to me and then turned around a proposed, I was angry. Not for pretend. I was pissed off. But I still said yes.

65) I'm currently re-reading Gone With the Winds. The first time I read it was when I was 38 weeks pregnant with Nicholas. I like patterns.

66) I cannot stand Chris Farley. Watching him "act" makes me want to hurt someone.

67) Through pregnancies and breastfeeding, my body so far has supported the life of another for a total of 63 months. I rock.

68) My brother is getting married in May. I'm excited to have a really good reason to go to Vancouver. Oh, and I'm excited that my brother is getting married, of course.

69) I once got drunk at a bar and kissed a guy I'd met that night. We were both incredibly wasted and couldn't remember each other's names. Thank goodness for Tricia being my chaperone!

70) I worked at Radio Shack for a total of two years. I was such a geek.

And now one for Liam

I'm putting a warning right at the top of this entry. This is going to be mushy and lovey-dovey. If you don't like that kind of thing, run run away.

I decided to dedicate an entry to the good parts of Liam. This is partly to make up for what a good sport he was about the previous entry that picked on him, and partly because today is our one-year wedding anniversary. I also decided to make this a public statement because although I tease Liam quite often in front of others, I don't think that I acknowledge nearly often enough what a dear and wonderful man he is. So, here we go...

Liam, there are so many things about you for which I'm grateful. Thank you a million times over for the million ways in which you make my life better.

Thank you for your kindness and patience. You treat me better than I sometimes feel I deserve, and you put up with my mood swings, rants, and pickiness with grace. I'm still not quite sure how you manage it.

Thank you for how hard you work to provide for us. I truly appreciate being a stay at home mom, and I could obviously never do this without you working so hard. For all the work you do and all the extra hours you put into overtime, thank you.

Thank you for being such a great dad. I never dared hope that I would find someone who would be as wonderful as you have been with Nicholas. And for this coming baby, thank you for taking care of me during this pregnancy and supporting me by attending all the doctor's appointments. I love that you're just as thrilled over every little milestone as I am.

Thank you for being my best friend. I truly do feel that I have found my partner in life on all levels. This past year has been incredible. You've brought so much happiness and fulfillment into my life. The happy times have been blissful, the tough times have been few and far between, and the life before us fills me with joy.

It's called a vagina.

It's 8:30 in the morning and I've already ranted at Liam twice today. One of these rants involved the word vagina. It's not nearly as vulgar or interesting as you may hope.

I frequent a pregnancy forum where a whole bunch of women are due sometime in September 2005. It's fun to discuss things with women who are at the same stage in their pregnancies and I enjoy hearing what other people's experiences are like.

One thing really bugs me though, and that is the fact that so many women seem to have problems calling their vagina a vagina. So many times it's hinted at ("down there", "my girl parts") or re-named ("my no-no hole", "my hoo-hoo"). Then, more often than not, the poster apologizes for bringing up the fact that they have a vagina at all ("sorry, TMI"). It drives me batty.

We are all obviously women who know a little bit about our anatomy. We are all non-virgins and have gone through at least one pelvic exam with a doctor. Some of us have even given birth already, yet there is still this inability to write the word vagina. Come on people, we all have them and we all know we have them. The whole part about being female and having gotten pregnant kind of makes it obvious.

If my kid can tell you that a baby comes out of a woman's vagina, shouldn't an adult be able to say the same thing?

Life goes on

Today is a day of milestones.

1) Nicholas has his first oral freezing. He had two fillings put in this morning and was an absolute champ about it. His Mom, though, was almost in tears. Pregnant women should not witness their children undergoing stressful events.

2) My parents come back from Nova Scotia in...2 hours and 50 minutes. Ish. They've been away for four weeks. They'll be spending Friday through Sunday with Nicholas. I can hear myself snoring already.

3) Nicholas had his last ever day of preschool.

Which brings me to the meat of today's blog. Nicholas is starting kindergarten in two weeks. As much as this is something that all (well, most I guess) kids end up doing, this is a first for both him and me. He's never been a school kid before, and I've never been the mom of a school kid.

Now, Liam tried to downplay this whole thing recently by pointing out that Nicholas has been in various preschool classes for a few years now, but there is a world of difference. Preschool was once or twice a week and I had the option every three months of putting him in another class or keeping him home. Also, the longest class he's ever had was 2 1/2 hours (admittedly not much shorter than the 3-hour kindergarten days).

Our life until now has basically been the two of us hanging out. Sometimes he goes to Grandma's, sometimes I was at work or at school, but the main chunk of our time together was just being home. Yes, I realize that four days a week of 3-hour days is really not a whole lot of time, but the idea that my child is now entering the school system where he'll be staying (hopefully) for the next 13 years is a little bit daunting.

I'm going to be sharing my son with a teacher I've never met before and asking him/her to fill his head with knowledge. That's been my job until now. I can't help but feel a little bit put out.

Another aspect to this whole school thing is realizing that I have a school-aged child. Holy crap. When did that happen? I've just finally gotten my brain wrapped around the fact that I'm old enough to have a kid, nevermind one who's old enough to toddle off to school every day. I've gone from being a single mom who goes to college to being a married woman who's sending her oldest child off to school and waiting for her youngest to make his/her appearance into the world. Another daunting thought.

Here's one just for Dylan

As a follow-up to the Nicholasism with the Transformers...

He's got a little Transformers catalogue/comic book thing that came with one of his toys. He's fascinated by the different names. He caught my attention when he started talking about this one guy, Octopus Crime. Yeah.

Oh, and on the topic of Nicholasisms, we were recently driving by some church when Nicholas was supposed to be asleep in the back seat. I was reading out loud their wacky billboard out front and it had something along the lines of "Have you ever wrestled with God?". A little voice from the back seat piped up "God would win.". I almost peed myself laughing.

It's all about attitude, baby

The other night before going to bed I noticed that Liam had left his bread out on the table (I call it his bread because is the bag of heels that Nicholas and I have snubbed and left in the freezer). As I wrapped it back up and put it back in the freezer, I had an image pop into my head: I'm 75 years old and hobbling around the house putting bread away and picking up dirty socks.

Now, for anyone who doesn't know Liam and his domestic-type habits, here's a little snapshot. After he eats a sandwich, the bread is left out on the counter beside the mustard and the margarine (both with their lids off), every drawer and cupboard that he has used is left open, and his dirty plate is still on the counter. Oh, and Liam is gone, never to be seen again.

Back to the story at hand...I put the bread away and came upstairs to Liam who was in the computer room with this image of myself still picking up after him fresh in my mind. Halfway up the stairs I realized that I could look at all of this in one of two ways: I could get annoyed at his constant absentmindedness and dread this aspect of our shared life for the next however many years to come, or I could just get over it and accept that this is the way he is. I realized that I'm really not all that interested in being a grumpy bitch for the rest of my life. That's what pregnancy and PMS were made for.

I walked into the computer room and told Liam about my experience and I was laughing so hard I more fell on him than hugged him as I meant to. As I explained how I figured I could choose to deal with his foibles or divorce him he sat very still. I think he was trying to figure out which one I was leaning towards.

I think I'll stick with picking up behind him. After all, he gives awesome back rubs and I'll need someone to change all those stinky diapers that are soon coming out way.

Ummm??

There is an alien doing somersaults in my belly. I just thought the world should know.

That is all.

Nicholasisms

My kid is fun. He is, by far, the most entertaining person I've ever met. In order to make the world a brighter and happier place, I thought I'd share some of his quotes.

"It hurt like ten elephants. Dead."
- This is an old one. I think it was a little before his 4th birthday.

"Help Dad! Thanks Liam!"
- All said in one breath. Liam will "rescue" him immediately if he calls him Dad, but Nicholas apparently doesn't want to use this term any more than necessary.

"Transformers. Mordent meeds in dyes."
- His attempt to sing the Transformers song.

"My skin is pink because of Piglet."
-He meant pigment.

"I don't want to ask for something!"
- He was pulling a double 4-year-old moment: eavesdropping on an adult conversation and disagreeing with everything he heard.

"You're my favorite person in the world."
- The most beautiful words in the world. He tells me this every day.

"You'll be able to run faster once you get rid of the baby, but you still won't be as fast as me."
- No explanation needed.

"You put one two nurses in there."
- His reply (at age 2 I think) as to what a bra is for. He used to call my boobs my nurses. The poor messed up breastfed boy.

"God makes the baby invisible and when the mom isn't looking he drops him in her mouth."
- His explanation of how babies get inside of moms. We've since had some talks about the birds and the bees.

"There is summer vacation because during the summer God rested from all his work."
- apparently his version of the story of creation. Uh huh.

Me? Nosy?

This afternoon we received a phone call from our new neighbors (the Leddys for those not in the know) to alert us to the fact that there were police down in the parking lot. Being nosy, I went to the kitchen window, but saw only one police car with nobody in it. Since it sounded like there were gobs of police out there, I sent Liam, and then Nicholas, up to the bedroom to see what they could see (...the other side of the mountain...?). Unfortunately, all they could see was the single police car.

That wasn't good enough for me. I needed to know what was going on. At one point, I wondered if I was curious because I worried that my personal security was at risk. But no...I just wanted to find out what was happening because of a general lack of excitement in my life (Sorry Liam, nothing personal.)

Anyhow, I was suddenly struck by the idea of sending Liam down to the dumpster with some garbage, using that as a pretense to be walking around in the parking lot. I grabbed the nearest reasonably-full garbage can and pulled the bag out.

As Liam walked outside, he pointed out that if something was actually happening out there it might not be that safe for him.

"There could be shooting," he said.

I came back with "There are police out there."

"You know what police have."

"Yeah," I said "They have good aim. Go!"

So, dutiful and indulgent husband that Liam is, off he went. As I waited at the gate for him I started to feel guilty. What if something did happen? Would I be able to live with the guilt? How would I raise two children on my own if he was gone? On and on my over-emotional hormone-induced thought process went.

Then Liam was back. He shrugged and said "There's only the one car."

Hhmph. All that excitement and then guilt over nothing.

Liam had found some pieces of glass on the ground so he headed back down to the dumpster again to throw them out. Just as he headed down one set of stairs, Krista came up the other set. She was carrying the Christmas lights they were giving us and a movie they had borrowed, both of which I'd forgotten to take home last night. Within a couple of seconds, she revealed that there was no hurry to drop these items off, but she was curious to see what was going on in the parking lot.

I'm so glad I'm not the only one covering up my nosy-ness with fake reasons to be walking around the complex. I'm also glad that I'm not the only one to feel so disappointed at it turning out to be nothing at all.

Open letters

It's open letters day at the Johnstone house. And, since I'm currently the only Johnstone home (besides the baby who can't type very well through my belly) I'm the one writing the open letters.

To my neighbor's cat:

Shut up. I've fallen asleep and woken up for the past two days to the sound of your howling. If you're in heat, get laid. If you're just being a pain, I'm going to get out my spray bottle and hunt you down. Enough already. Tell the same thing to that other cat who was out there with you this morning.


To my unborn child:

I know that I've made mention throughout this pregnancy that I don't want to go past my due date, but please don't take that to mean that I want you to be born extremely early either. My parents (your grandparents) are going to be on the other side of the country for the next four weeks and I DO NOT want to give birth to you without my mother being somewhere nearby. I need her for both me and for Nicholas. Four weeks will bring us to 37 weeks. You can hang on that long if I can.

To my house:

Do you suppose there's a button somewhere around here that puts you into self-cleaning mode? Kinda like an oven...? No? Damn.

That is all for now. Thank you.

The night of the cashier

Liam and I were kid-free last night (other than the currently non-disposable child) so we spent some time away from home. For anyone who knows my life, this is a big thing. Yeah. Anyhow, we first went to the off-leash area to walk Jack and attempt to wiggle some of the stiffness out of my back. It was a great time between the beautiful sunshine, the oh-so-cute dogs, and the great company.

On our way home, we decided to have a movie and junk food night. Mmmm. We stopped off at Rogers Video and when we entered the door we were greeted by the most bubbly and high-pitched hello I've ever heard. Uh huh. I should have run away then. During the 15 minutes or so that we browsed movies, she kept getting more giggly and high-pitched. It was painful. I heard her get so excited over trying to sell a guy some candy that she tripped over her tongue, burst out laughing, and had to start the whole speech over again. By this point, my ears were bleeding.

There was also the incident of the beeping phone. A cordless was left on and, as phones tend to do when ignored, started beeping. She jumped back and forth between the till and the phone like a jittery chicken, exclaiming "The phones are going crazy! The phones are going crazy!". No, sweetheart, they're not. One phone needed to be turned off. Maybe they shouldn't be leaving you alone out front yet.

By the time we made our purchase, the poor girl was almost vibrating with enthusiasm and her voice had reached dog-pitched tones. After stumbling through our sale and backtracking on what she was doing at least twice, she managed to ring it through. I think she giggled at least five times before asking us for our money. When she went to hand Liam his change, a penny went flying and she burst into giggles again. She finally managed to pick it up and shove the money into Liam's hand.

By the time we made it out the door, I was dying. Not figuratively, but literally. I've never had such a painful shopping experience. And no, I really don't think it had anything at all to do with the fact that I'm incredibly bitchy lately and can't stand people. Pregnancy hormones are my friend. Really.

To change it up a little

Since my last entry got eaten by Blogger, here's a different type of post. Hopefully the high-powered crap editor will leave it alone.

I love my kid. Really, I do. I kiss and cuddle him all the time and tell him at least 100 times a day how much I love him. I miss him when he's away and I come close to crying when I think about him starting kindergarten.

Sometimes, though, I just want to put his head under the couch and leave him there.

My son talks. And talks and talks and talks. I guess it's normal for a 4 3/4 year-old, but it drives me to the brink of insanity after a few hours. It's worse these days because he's totally gotten back into the why stage.

Example:

"Why doesn't the toy work?"

"Because it needs a battery. It takes button cells and we don't have any."

"Oh. Why?"

"Why what?"

"Why don't we have any?"

"Because I haven't bought any."

"Why haven't you bought any?"

"Because I haven't gone to the store yet."

"Oh. Why haven't you gone to the store yet?"

And on and on and on. If why's don't work anymore, he switches to how's.

The other day we had the most ridiculous conversation in the history of the world. I was reading him his book about sharks and it got to the part about how mothers will sometimes eat their young.

"The pups swim away quickly in case the mother is hungry."

"Why would she be hungry?"

"Because she needs to eat."

"And who would she eat?"

"Her pups."

"And why do they swim away?"

"So she won't eat them."

"Oh. (long pause) Why hungry?"

"What?"

"Who?"

"What?"

"What?"

At which point we were left sitting there staring at each other.

He's a smart kid. He can count to 100 (with a bit of help), knows his alphabet, does simple addition and subtraction, and has even started to sound out words and read. He just doesn't listen when I talk and so comes accross as being incredibly dim-witted at times. Maybe he's been spending too much time with his Dad...

Will it never end?

The next time I say I'm going to state 100 of anything, someone smack me. Seriously.

36) I've owned five dogs in my life. Skunky (a black and white terrier), Lady (a Cocker Spaniel cross), Oliver (world's grumpiest dog ever), Riley (the summertime Lab), and Jack (a black and white terrier). I've come full circle.

37) As opposed to what my dear son may think, I prefer to use the bathroom alone. I have this strange notion that it's a time for quiet solitude, not conversations about Pokemon or Sponge Bob.

38) I've never been to Europe, and I'll be an extremely grumpy old woman if I never get to go. (There's a subtle hint for you Liam)

39) I love my husband. I'm also in love with him. I think they can be very different things.

40) On the topic of Liam, I love the way he stutters and stumbles through what he's saying when he get's very animated. It's cute. I try not to laugh out loud, but usually fail miserably.

41) I lost my high school grad ring. I regret it, but now I wear my college grad ring anyhow.

42) I think I'm right all the time. Just ask Liam.

43) I know how to throw a football, sort of. I got Liam to teach me and yelled at him every time he offered me advice.

44) As a follow-up to #43, I hate not knowing how to do something. It makes me feel dumb and I don't deal well with that.

45) I watched "Sixth Sense" 5 years ago and I still get scared from it sometimes. Dead people creep me out.

46) I like blue. It's pretty.

47) My feet are now so swollen that even my sandals are getting too tight. This didn't happen last pregnancy. It's not fair. Somehow, I'll find a way to blame Liam.

48) I can play the piano a bit. I took lessons for two years and I play a bit now and then.

49) And now for something I'm sure none of you really want/need to know: I've gone from a C cup to a D cup. Jugsy Johnstone indeed.

50) I've lost my kid twice. Once in Walmart and once in Costco, for a total combined time of something like 2 1/2 minutes. These have been, by far, the two most frightening experiences of my life. Yes, even more so than dead people.