Funnies

Gavin: Dad, can you get me the dancing popcorn in my backpack?
Dan: After your nap.
Gavin: Can you cuddle me (blurb bleeb blab Grandma and Grandpa and trains beep boof blarn)
Dan: Good night, Gavin.
Gavin: Can you cuddle me for seventeen minutes?

Kate: (peeing)
Gavin: (bursts in bathroom) Hey mom... pee or poop?
Kate: Just pee.
Gavin: (taken back) Ummm. WHERE'S YOUR PENIS?
Kate: Oh, mine's called a vagina. I don't have a penis.
Gavin: (thinks it over) Oh. I have a penis.
Kate: (gets up to pull up pants)
Gavin: (gets down under me, angles face up) Hold still mom. I want to see it.

Next day:
Kate: (getting out of shower)
Gavin: You don't have a penis.
Kate: You're right.
Gavin: Yeah. You have hair.

Click

There's this Adam Sandler movie, called Click. He's a workaholic and gets a special remote that enables him to fast forward events in his life that he doesn't care about or care for. Of course, all movies have a little bit of a problem, so the problem becomes the remote. Like Tivo, it assumes that he likes or dislikes this event or that event, and snap! Before you know it, he's old and he has missed his life. I have a sense of that at the ripe old age of 34.

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I have a wistful recollection of the 20s that I spent working overtime, trying to be something and somebody. I didn't enjoy life. I barely liked myself - I couldn't stand most others. It's quite sad, actually. I once was so upset about something that didn't/doesn't/won't ever matter that my mom tried to convince me to just go lay in the back yard and stare up at the trees and just be for a while. Needless to say, I didn't/couldn't/wouldn't. Not that I had seen that movie yet (it came out when I was 30), but I sure behaved like Adam Sandler's character. I tolerated every day. I didn't want to go to work * I didn't want to go home * I didn't want to clean the house * I didn't want to get gas for the car * I didn't want to go grocery shopping * I didn't want to make a date with friends * Oh.My.Goodness.You.Name.It.And.I.Didn't.Want.To.Do.It. Period. No matter fun or not - I would have fast forwarded my entire life.

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!!! Flash Forward to my 30s !!!

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I swear. I know that movie got terrible ratings but wow, it got me thinking. Although I don't have a universal remote to fast forward the heinous parts of my life, like the #2 associated with potty training (help me) or the throw-up-on-your-clean-shirt factor that is being a baby's mom (Murphy's Law is a bitch), I have certainly noticed that you can put yourself on fast forward without realizing you're doing it. Living in the moment is actually hard. It's easy to live for the weekend - just close your eyes and survive until something else is in front of you or all around you. I didn't know in my 20s how much that means you'll miss out on.

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Gavin is growing up insanely fast. Out of nowhere, he knows his letters and he decided to start peeing in the potty. He jokes, he speaks in some sophisticated sentences, and we can carry on a conversation, like the one about good choices and bad choices just tonight at bedtime snuggles. So of course, since he is growing up so fast, I have lived more consciously and feel like I've been an even better observer to Kajsa's life thus far. I try not to hustle/bustle through my day as much anymore. I try to enjoy the small items in life that make a life a life.

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My neighbor loaned me a book called Hand Wash Cold. I think I wasn't in the "reading place" when I tried to read it at first. I'm hoping to try again. There's a thought in there that your life is comprised of all of these little things, the things that Adam Sandler's character might have fast forwarded through. Doing the laundry, the dishes, the shopping, the planning, wiping up the throw up, cleaning the #2 out of the Thomas sheets... these things are our lives. Our life isn't defined by the spaces in between. All parts whether they are "enjoyable" or not (""quotes because of an Aha! moment I recently had, which got me thinking about the movie, which got me wanting to share it...) make up our life.

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I decided to be "that reader" and try to come up with items I just really cannot stand. Things in my life that I just have no choice but to be hateful about. And the truth is, there's nothing. There's always something to be grateful for. I don't like to do the dishes. But at least I have a machine. And I just love Gavin's robot dishes, so that sort of cheers me. I love that Kajsa isn't exclusively breastfeeding anymore and eats so much so I have a little "awww" when I clean her dishes. My brother offered to unload the dishes as part of his nanny job with our family, so every time I unload I think about how grateful I am for a terrific brother, who realizes how little I like doing the dishes. So then darn it, can't be hateful about that.

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OK, taking the kids in the car. Secretly, I hate HATE taking the kids somewhere by myself. So I set out to prove that nothing good can come of it. It's hard to strap two kids in and not have one get lost/rained on/slide out of the seat/crawl up front to drive... I sweat bullets when I take the kids somewhere alone. Gavin inevitably throws fits. I always lack something in the diaper bag - someone will BLOW UP! while we're out because I forgot the sippy, binky, diaper, wipes, formula, omg, you name it, I've forgotten it. So we go to Target to eat popcorn. Kajsa flirts with a family eating at the food court who can't stop telling me how cute she is (let's face it, that doesn't get old). Gavin tells a wandering waddler NOT to follow us and then mentions "He can't find his mommy!" with genuine concern. Kajsa kicks up a storm when she makes eye contact with people and she totally makes people smile. Gavin tells her "itsokitsokitsokitsok" when she cries in the car. Kajsa eats a baby food and no one freaks out. Gavin is trying out "I promise!" when it doesn't fit, so the end result is funny and random. OK so then damn, can't hate taking the kids somewhere by myself.

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The truth is, nothing in my life with kids is worth fast forwarding. In fact, if I try to consciously do just the opposite, I am finding a lot of success in noting details that I wouldn't have otherwise noticed. Kajsa's turquoise bathing suit today. The small size of her arm holes in the swim shirt she wore. Gavin's curls behind his ears. Watching Gavin rub Zoya's head. Isis' gorgeous blue eyes. Zoya's relaxed pool 'tude. Melissa's gorgeous hair colors in the sun. The clovers that grabbed Kajsa's attention. How carefully Gavin shared his cookie with Zoya. The brilliant green of the leaves on the trees near the wading pool. There was actually so much to see! It's applicable to us texting moms, the stay-at-home folks for whom the job can get a little monotonous, and those of us who previously wanted that fast forward option for tedious times. I think my memories of today will be richer because I sat on the rooftop playground floor and played with Kajsa, because I sat and observed how my kids play, because I wasn't thinking of the next thing to get to. There was nothing wrong with this current moment.

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It's a pretty silly movie to feel so profound. Gavin's (almost) 3 years passes in an absolute s*n*a*p. It's scary and horrible. It's going fast enough already. No need to fast forward. It's a great movie. You should check it out.

One hour to myself

Umm. Do you see it too? I see a cute kid with a ladybug on her forehead. She has cute pjs. Her mom has too much hair these days. Yeah, the mom loves the baby. But wait, look again at that mom's hair. That is too much gray for a 34 year old. I gasped when I saw this picture. I had no idea my hair was that gray. Good grief.

But let's see. I shower once or twice a week. I take a toddler/infant bath with the kids because we think maybe the bumbo wasn't supposed to go in the bath after all (sorry Tayla, I guess I owe you a bumbo chair?). I wash my hair exactly once a week. I haven't had a pedicure since last summer (8 months ago) and haven't dyed my hair since before getting pregnant with Gavin. JHC, that is 40 months ago, now.

I look in the mirror and I see one big brow. My teeth need attention. I'm getting smile lines. My furrowed brow look that can manage a classroom without a sound has left a big vertical jag in my monobrow. I don't know what looks better - one brow or this deep crevasse. My clothes don't fit, and those that do are covered in sluggy snot trails of my snot nosed kids. I haven't had a night of sleep in about 3 months. My mattress is horrible and I prefer to sleep on the couch. My C section scar hurts and it's ugly as hell (my first C sect scar was lovely). I sound like I've got my BiTcH on but really, it's just the exterior of the woman I see in the mirror every time I see a mirror outside my own crappy seahorse-tiled bathroom with almost no lighting. I can't see a thing in there, so any other mirror in life shows me the suit of motherhood.

But it's not how I feel.

I'm tired but I'm grateful. I look worn out but I'm so happy. My skin isn't what I want it to be but I'm so grateful for health. I don't want all these grays but I'm glad I still have hair and that I'm finally at peace with the curls. The C section is ugly but the kids are lovely. The clothes don't fit but there are stores full of more until I'm ready to fit into the old clothes.

It's so odd to see how poorly the outside of me matches the insides.

I am glad it's not the other way around. That's how I felt after my first pregnancy. PPD really destroyed my ability to make peace with myself inside, though the pictures make my journey look wonderful. It wasn't. (It wasn't blog fodder, so I'm sure you won't see any on the archives here...) I have confidence in my parenting and I truly enjoy every single minute now. But now about this haggard look...

1. What to do with my hair length? It's long and I like it long but Gavin keeps handing fallen hairs back to me saying "Here you go, Mommy." They're everywhere. They're too annoying. It gets ratty. It's harder to style than shorter hair. Am I too old for long hair? Was my shorter hair cuter?

2. Color. Worth it? I was going for health of the babies by not coloring during pregnancy and in between kids, I decided to try to grow out the big white/gray patch to rock the salt and pepper look. I'm not sure I own it. But I'm far too lazy to stay current on color, even home color. I'm also a dirty hippie and cheap. Thoughts? Is it that bad?

I'm a big girl. I can handle it.

So about this one hour to myself. I have been putting in some overtime at work (compensated, boo ya!) and it culminated with a presentation last night. When I got home, I couldn't sleep so I was checking work email (problem #1) and saw a template our boss wanted us to fill out for our annual self reflection. (A whole problem in itself, I guess problem #2). I thought "well, why not just do it now?" (Yep, #3) and stayed up late finishing it. So then of course I got all fired up about next year and how to get better at my job (Is that #4?). So then I really couldn't sleep. After emailing my boss the document, I realized her email said that we were going to work on it during the morning staff meeting this morning. I lost track of the problem numbers.

The huh? The what? The morning staff meeting? Well that means that I can do the other stuff in the afternoon since the nanny stays till 5 on Wednesdays so I can attend meetings. Holy shit, I don't have any work to catch up. That means I'm homefree at 3:40 and off of life's clock till 5.

That's the end of the problems, people.

I hitchhiked home with some neighbors and by the time I sat down on the couch, iPhone in hand, ready to good old fashioned waste some time, I saw I had exactly 73 minutes. I assumed that the nanny and the kids were napping in the bedroom so I snuck back there to tell him I was home (so I wouldn't freak anyone out) and ohdeargodinheaven, they weren't even here. No hummus on my sweater, be nice to your sister, I just fed you, whose diaper is poopy? Time to fart around online.

What's new on facebook? What funny links did my friends share? Lynnae sent Andrea something that sounded funny. OK let's check that out. http://www.rantsfrommommyland.com/2011/04/five-universal-laws-of-mornings.html
I got the giggles and realized I was tearing up. I was so relieved that someone else felt this way! I started just clicking on other posts. I was home alone, laughing outloud, reading post after post for 53 of my 73 minutes of freedom. I had to get up to blow my nose twice because of all the laugh-so-hard-I-cried cryin. I haven't laughed like that for a long, long time. Felt great. 3 times I just had to sit and contemplate the writing on that site. OhMyGoD, so frackin funny. Then I'd just recall one line and repeat it - aloud - to myself, just sending me into fits again.

No one was peeing on me, spitting on their sister, throwing their shit on the floor, shouting at me "I WANT A ELMO COOKIE RIIIIGHT NOOOOOW!!!" (Seriously, Gavin?), or asking me where the mother flippin' spatula is.

And then it hit me. I'm cracking up. I can't remember what back health feels like, from lugging around a big child. I haven't slept 5 hours straight in 100 days. I never ever get 60 or 73 minutes to myself. And that's the thing about mothering. We're not supposed to mind that. We feel guilty and worry about the kids when we do take time for ourselves. We think we're not supposed to need something. And that's not fair. And if the kids aren't here, I'm sure occupied with cleaning up after them and making sure everyone has what they need.

A car isn't guilty for needing gas.

And I'm out. But a 73 minute charge (53 online, cracking up to witty mommentary + a 20 minute catnap) was a nice start.

Sister!

Summer vacation without Mom!? That's crazy! That's Gavin's summer this year. Yesterday, 8/23 is the day I was supposed to head back to work for a week-long training. Back in June, when I was cleaning out the classroom, two months ago, that seemed like it would take forever! But here we are, two months of contractions, 28 days of restricted activities, and on day 34 of bedrest. On Gavin's and my Summer of Fun Calendar, we were set to go to Charlotte's Web today at the Family Fun Film Festival at the Northgate cinemas. Instead, Gavin faithfully puts on his shoes every day, kisses me, tells me "love-a-you" and walks to the door shouting, "BYE! BYE! BYE!" to leave with different friends and family every day on fun and exciting play dates. He is a champ - up for any adventure at a moment's notice. I'm missing all of it!

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I guess Gavin's Sister and my faulty uterus have big plans for me.

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Today I got four bits of bad news: news that made me unhappy and made my doctor harder to read than usual. I think she is sensitive to how much the good and bad news impact me, so although she prides herself on very direct communication, I believe she tempers it for me somewhat. We do see one another 2-3 times per week and have for about 6 weeks now. She said a few reassuring words but concluded the appointment by reminding me my "call the hospital" limits. That, as a patient, feels very different than wrapping up an appointment with just a smile and a "See you on Friday!"

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So here's what we discovered today via my 19th ultrasound in two months:

1. The amniotic fluid, on my 14th day of Ibuprofen (the "ace" drug to keep preterm labor patients pregnant) has lowered to a point of almost too low - cut almost in half since the last scan. The implication of this news is that we might have to discontinue the Ibuprofen on Friday. It's the drug that *seeeeeeems* to have been the drug that has kept me out of the hospital for the last 15 days (which my wallet doesn't mind - the bills are flooding in) and kept the contractions at fewer than 4 per hour, my limit.

2. The cervical length is shorter. It can lengthen and shorten, but the trend over the last 10 days seems to show that shorter is the new length. My doctor is happy with anything over 2 cm, so 2.7 is technically fine, but 4 days ago it was 3.3 and a month ago it was closer to 4. I realize we are talking about millimeter changes, but when it changes a few mm per day, and I'm 7 mm from the unsafe, check into the Childbirth Center zone, those little mm don't seem so insignificant anymore.

3. There is some "beaking" now at the bottom of the amniotic sac/top of the cervix. What we are supposed to see is a big, round shape at the bottom of the uterus, at the opening of the cervix. What we saw today was a little triangle of the amniotic sac, "beaking" into the cervix. It really does look like a bird's beak. I have questions that (of course) I thought of on the drive home like "Can beaking fix itself?" and "How quickly can/does a beak cause the amniotic sac to break?" so to those I have no answers. My understanding is that the pressure of the bag of water on the beak and the cervix acts to pry it further open.

4. This is the news the doctor called me with when I got home from the appointment. The drugs and my naturally occurring hormones have wreaked havoc on my body's glucose levels and my insulin's ability to get the glucose processed. So I've been on a diabetic diet for 2 weeks now, watching my first-thing-in-the-morning glucose levels in particular. The post-food numbers are terrific but the wake-up numbers are still too high (because of the drugs and the gestational diabetes). So starting asap, I have to start injecting insulin in the evenings. This does not make me happy.

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I know in a year (or hopefully 13 or 14 months) I'll be planning a birthday party for a cute and sweet one year old, but for right now, it's scary and I'm worried. I'm exhausted from the day-to-day changes and new findings when I don't expect them - ie, when we're exchanging small talk during the ultrasound and the doctor says "Oh, the fluid is way down today." It's hard not to know if she'll be born in August (still a possibility, although shrinking), September (my guess), October (my OB thinks she'll almost certainly be out *by* early October), or November (her actual due date). That's 4 different birthstones as I'm shopping for my slice/push present. And I'll leave it right there! Updates on Friday or as they happen. Thanks for your interest in our family's well-being.

Happy Family!

LOTS to be thankful for, this summer, for the Sipe/Berglunds. Baby Sister Berglund is following closely in her brother's footsteps. She's trying to bust her way out early, just like Mr. Gavin did. OK... to be fair, it's not her fault. It's a really faulty uterus! It's not a very hospitable environment in there. At the hospital the other night, the nurses liked her "variability" of heartrates. They thought that her heart's range of beats per minute sounded slighty more mature than a typical 25-weeker. (Allow me these brags of my awesome daughter, OK? They reassure me - I've been trying hard not to be one of "those" moms that thinks that their kid is a frickin genius.) That was a nice comment to get, in light of having checked into the hospital 4 times in 4 weeks. Sister's contractions started at week 21. Gavin's started at 27 (well, I noticed the discomfort at 27 - who knows how long I was having them without noticing?) I had 4 weeks of "take it easy" status with Sister. I had none with Gavin. I have had 4 hospital check-ins with Sister. I had 7 with Gavin. With Sister, I am on bedrest now (and Doc says I will likely deliver early, but doesn't know how early). Gavin was 7 weeks early.

Gavin is getting closer to understanding about Sister. He raspberries her all the time now, (but he also raspberries Grandpa Glenn's baby, Daddy's baby, and anyone else who'll let him up their shirt) and when we tell him to tell Sister "good night" he kisses her. When we set aside the infant toys for Sister, Gavin had some nostalgia and grabbed out the plush dinosaur that Grace gave him. Now Dino's his nap buddy. It's funny how Dino's importance changed with the threat of ownership transfer. Silly Gavin!

So Bedrest begins today. I think I knew this was coming. I also think I am ready for it. I have the iPhone to keep me occupied, blogging, and some crocheting. My dad asked my 2nd cousin Vicky to finish up a blanket for Sister that my mom started for Gavin. I asked my aunt Beryl to make a quilt for Sister with some lovely prints that I found, knowing that I wouldn't be able to make her a quilt myself. I didn't watch Grey's Anatomy last year, saved the reruns of King Of Queens, and Dan just found reruns of one of the best shows of all time for me... Malcolm in the Middle. We have Netflix on demand, and plenty of movies for me to catch up on. Luckily, my sixth sense and my hyperactive type A personality mean that I am also ready to have Sister come on home and join us. I persuaded Dan to install the fir flooring patch where the old stairs were. He also insulated, wired, and sheetrocked that corner of the house as well. So her "room" (the corner of our bedroom) is done and ready to welcome her. Her dresser is even stocked full of beautiful and teeny tiny baby clothes, washed and ready to wear. Ha! It's like I knew this was coming...

A nice boy for the world

Gavin's Grandma Barb is really sick right now and soon will pass. So we're visiting as much as we can now, but being a toddler, he doesn't want to sit and relax! He wants to go up the stairs, down the stairs, go say "Hi!" to Grandma, go see the doggy, watch for birds, eat Chex, go say "Hi!" to Grandma again... It is sweet.
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Gavin picked up this photo and kissed it again and again and again today. On his own - no prompting. I'm so lucky to have such a nice boy. The world needs lots of those!

Left his heart in San Francisco!

After a million shots and rides down this slide, Dan captured a sweet slide photo of the happy slide boy! "Wheeeeeeeeee!" Gavin got to go visit cousins and auntie Jessie earlier in March! It was a weekend of many firsts: first flight, first overnight away from his own room, first time meeting a bunch of his cousins, first ocean experience! I think Gavin was a pretty fantastic traveler. I get it - people hate sitting by babies on planes and everyone gave us the evil glare/stare, from boarding to seating to the drink cart to de-boarding.
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So I have a few thoughts about traveling with a baby.
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1. A quiet baby doesn't equal a good traveler. How many times have I had to sit by the fat guy with bad breath that hogs the arm rest and won't shut up? A good traveler makes a semi-pleasant experience for their neighbors. So big guy, shut your pie hole, order a diet soda, give me back 1/2 ownership over the arm rest and brush your teeth. I'm not here to make friends. I don't care about your granddaughter or your political views. Here's some listerine. And judgemental passengers: If this kid cries a little, he's getting his needs met. Like: "Hey, what the heck is happening here? My ears hurt. Can you get me that bottle please?" or "Holy crap, I'm bored out of my mind. Can we get a little entertainment going on in here?" He doesn't have the social conditioning or the skills yet to ask in a less "annoying" way for his neighbors. I do regret your having to hear his misery, truly, but he's just expressing what we're all feeling and with my way overpacked bag of tricks to keep him happy, I'm on it... I'm keeping him as happy as I can. Big, loud, smelly, arm rest-hog guy should know better. Do I not also deserve a comfortable flight *every*single*other*time*I*fly???
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2. Help us out. Remember having a kid? Remember having all that crap to lug on board? Or for that matter, every-single-where you ever go? So help us out! We brought half of this crap for YOU people! For a 90 minute flight, we obviously don't need 3 flavors of fruit bar, applesauce, milk, back up milk, juice, an extra bottle just in case, videos, toys, a banana, pretzels, books, and 14 diapers. We had to check a bag for a SF trip for goodness' sake! Who does that!?! People who are trying to give their neighbors a nice flight, that's who. The least you can do is help us stow our crap. :) I'm just sayin. Don't stare with that "Oh god, a baby" look. Or do stare and then offer these harried parents some help. I'm not saying hold the child... I'm saying take the bag out of my hand and put it up! Thanks!
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3. Hey airline, bad job. You should've let a family with a toddler board in the first wave. I appreciate the stroller help (drive it up to the door and then there it is in SF! Sweet!) but preferential boarding sure would've been nice. Then maybe the overhead compartments would've been less hoarded by travelers who can't stomach the $25 check-bag-fee, and who can blame them? Hey, airline, bad job there too. $25 to check my bags? Each way? How dare you?
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So on a bright and shiny note, Gavin loved the Bay Area. He LOVED the sand at the beach and loved him some cousins. He really liked cousin Tim and enjoyed all the hill walking. He drank a teenie tiny mocha (chocolate sprinkled over steamed milk) at a coffee shop and tootled around China Town with his Dad. I think the pace of the city was fun for him! It'll probably be a while until we travel again. It was the most exhausting vacation we've ever taken. And next time there will be two of them!