Out of the Parenting Closet

This started as a quick Facebook post, but quickly took on a life of its own...

I'm about to post something crazy.

Remember when we were kids, and our parents left us in the car to go grocery shopping, usually with the car running so we didn't over heat and had the AM radio to keep us company? Remember how nobody car jacked us, or sneered at our parents for leaving us in the car? Remember how we didn't schedule play dates, we just knocked on our friends door after *gasp* riding our bikes to their houses by ourselves and played until dinner time (which was announced by our parents screaming our names from the front door)? Remember how we spent long summer days outside with our friends, playing in the woods, or creeks, or back yards, or fields, utilizing our imaginations and sticks/rocks/leaves as our only play things? Do you remember how if you acted a fool at your friend's house, you could count on their mom giving you the same type of treatment that YOUR mom would if you were at your own house? Me too.

Does anybody else wish we could give our kids this kind of life in the present time?

Did you know we can? Deadbeat parents aside, we can stop judging each other. We can be honest with one another. We can trust each other's intentions.

Call me crazy, call me neglectful. I let my son ride his bike around the corner to play with the neighbor boy. I don't check up on him every 20 minutes. I let him play until he comes home on his own or his friend's mom shoos him home. I return the favor when her son comes here.

I don't butt in. I encourage outside play as much as possible (weather permitting of course...and sometimes not). My daughter can disappear upstairs for two hours and I don't feel the need to run up to see what she's doing. Usually, she's entranced in her own little make believe world with her dolls.

I encourage my kids to settle things on their own (unless they just want the offending toy/game/TV taken away). They know what the rules are, and I enforce them. If they break them, they can expect the consequence to follow. And when they are at a friend's house or school and they misbehave, they know the consequence will be twice as bad. Oh, and friends? If my kids are acting up at your house, I give you permission to provide the same sorts of consequences that you would give your own kids. Please.

I've noticed an upswing of articles on Facebook lately that all talk about life as WE knew it as kids, and how we wish we could give that to our kids. Most of my close friends have confided in me that they, too, do the things I do, but like me at one time were afraid of being judged, or have CPS called, or being thought of as anything but the overly-attentive parent they believe society expects them to be.

Well, let me be the first to come out of the closet: My name is Kristy Monahan, and I don't always supervise my kids. I let them play alone. I take time for myself. I enforce rules, I dole out consequences, I live by "life isn't fair, deal with it." I love my kids.

My job is not to be my kids' entertainment director. My job is not to be my kids' play friend. My job is to be their mom. My job is to raise productive members of society who understand that life isn't fair; that hard work and a large amount of luck is what makes people successful; that just because you believe you deserve something doesn't mean you do; that you can't take care of other people unless you take care of yourself first; and that they will feel like the best versions of themselves when they share their gifts, talents, and treasures with others instead of hoarding them to themselves.

That's a huge job in my opinion. It's not an easy one. I applaud all moms and dads out there that are fighting the good fight, that are doing your darndest to raise your kids the way you were raised despite the current parenting climate.

Let's call a spade a spade. I won't judge you and your style if you don't judge me and mine.

/rant over.

A year in review

My God, has a year really gone by already? In 24 hours my baby will be 1 year old. It's SO cliche, but time really does fly the older you get.

I'm feeling rather sentimental and nostalgic tonight. Going through my mind are all the ups and downs of the last year. We are blessed that most of the events were "ups." We had a child, Brett got a promotion, I got my dream job (staying home with my babies). We were fortunate enough to be able to care for our infant nephew and then help with the transition to his other auntie and uncle. Bryce is readying himself for Kindergarten and being able to see Abbie reach her milestones on a daily basis was a reward in itself.

1 year ago tonight, I was sitting on Facebook with my oldest friend (and when I say oldest, I don't mean age-wise, I mean length of time), Jennifer, who I've known since preschool back in Montesano. Via chat, we were timing my contractions together (for the third night in a row). I fully expected the fizzle, but to my surprise and glee, they did not. Jennifer kept my mind off of the negative and toward the positive, and was really a Godsend for me through those last couple, arduous weeks of pregnancy. I will always remember that, Niffer. That, and you helping me down from the ladder in preschool. :)

All of the things I had hoped for my first time around during labor happened the second time around. Walking aimlessly around the halls of the hospital in a gown with Brett, hand in hand. Stopping momentarily to breathe through a contraction. Making it a LITTLE longer before I shrieked for the anesthesiologist. :) A quick, easy labor with no complications, and the birth of the most beautiful little girl with the biggest cheeks I'd ever seen!

Abbie Kathleen, you truly are your mama's pride and joy. My little diva. Enjoy your day, sweet pea, and know that we all love you more than words.

I've also had the wonderful opportunity to become closer to and get to know my birth family better and better. Especially my littlest brother, Max. I am honored to be the matron of honor to my sister, Tiffany, in her upcoming nuptials. My kids look forward to visits to Grammy Shell's house, and Bryce LOVES to play DS with his Auntie Tiffy and Uncle Max.

As I look forward, my calendar is full constantly and it seems there isn't even enough time to breathe. But, since staying home, my big focus for the year is living in the present. To enjoy every sob, every poopy diaper, every "mommy-will-you-lay-with-me". It all goes by too quickly. And soon, there will be another little monkey running around this joint, playing with her Uncle Bryce and Auntie Abbie. Another little bundle to love. But this time, I get to sugar her up and hand her back to HER mommy. :) Can't wait to meet you, Kolbie Noelle!

So much is done. So much to look forward to. The gift I received this year was the present. Letting go of the past, not worrying so much about the future, and just being present.

God is good.

The Dollhouse

Not the book, MY dollhouse...which is about to become Abbie's dollhouse.

When I was a baby, my dad built me a dollhouse. It was not from a kit, it was not small, and he spent A LOT of time putting as much detail as he could into it. It had wallpaper, chair rails, wainscoting, paint, carpet, the whole nine. I spent many hours into my TEENAGE years (yes, I can admit that now, that I still played with my barbies in the dollhouse at the ripe 'ole age of 14). Eventually, I outgrew the dollhouse and it sat. I went to college, moved a few times, got married. I tried to pawn it off on family, friends, neighbors, anyone who might be willing to put a little elbow grease into it to make it shine once again. I couldn't bear the thought of it sitting in a landfill. My dad passed away when I was 20, and the house had developed quite a bit of sentimental value over the years.

Eventually, a girl I grew up near who used to play with the dollhouse with me volunteered to take it off of my hands for her little girls. However, I was pregnant at the time and she was willing to wait and see what I was having before coming to get it. Alas, we all now know I had a girl, so with humble apologies I took my gift back.

My mom has been in town from Wisconsin since the end of July, and we thought a very fitting tribute to my dad, as well as a kick-ass birthday gift for Abbie's first would be to put a bit of elbow grease into that house and "renovate." The exterior was in good condition, just needed some cleaning up, and the interior was fine structurally, just needed new flooring and updating.

Though we are still in the process of our project, my mom painted all of the walls, we fixed the minor structural issues, I laid a popsicle-stick hardwood floor in the living/dining rooms, "carpeted" the stairs with felt, and re-glued the wallpaper back to the wall. We will be putting in the remainder of the floors this week and staining the hardwood to give it a cherry color.

I told my mom tonight, the only way Abbie will ever come to appreciate the amount of work that we, and initially her grandpa, put into the dollhouse, is if she has a daughter of her own someday and decides to "update" it for her. I can only imagine the blood, sweat, and tears that went into building that house from scratch, and I can see my dad smiling from Heaven as he watches mom and me restore it back to its former glory.

Love you daddy. Thank you for such a treasured keepsake. :-)

Ladies and Gents, our Diva, Abbie....

(according to Abbie's contract, this is where you would give her a standing ovation).

Yes, indeed, our little baby girl is not a tomboy. She is not even a little princess. She is a DIVA. In all caps even. She has attitude like you would not believe. At the ripe old age of 10 months old, Abbie has a favorite blankie, favorite foods, a favorite "eating" position, will only go to certain people, smile at certain people and ONLY when she deems it necessary, and will only look at a camera if she's the ONLY one in the photo. We get into battles of wills almost daily, usually over her performing the signs I have taught her for "more" and "all done" at meal times. Now, I KNOW she knows the signs and when to use them, because she does it all the time properly...but only after she grunts, groans, growls and screams at me for more food. I constantly sign "more?" to her and show her the bite, and only after all of the other methods have not worked, she finally relents and signs "more." She throws tantrums if something is taken away (especially the things she's not allowed to play with), and cries like no one's business while she crawls. I've never seen a child so upset to be mobile in my life!

I was joking with a friend yesterday, that I think when Abbie was born, she came out holding a contract, and said "sign here" before ever agreeing to be our daughter. It states her requests and stipulations for playing the role of Abbie Monahan for life.

It would drive me insane if she wasn't so damned cute and funny about this. All I can say is, she's not even a year old yet, and she already wears me down almost daily and is very close to me throwing my hands up in the air and saying, "fine, we'll do it YOUR way."

Teenage years should be a BLAST! :)

Nana and Pappy

We found out yesterday that Shayann (who is now at the halfway mark of her pregnancy) will be having a GIRL! Kolbie Noelle Mannin is due to join us at the end of November. We are getting VERY excited to meet this little girl!

Bryce and Abbie will have a niece that they will grow up playing with! I'm sure they will behave more like siblings than like your traditional aunt/uncle/niece relationship, but alas, it takes all kinds to make a family. I am Shayann's bonus mom, but due to our small age difference, we behave more like a big sister/little sister would. Shayann is Abbie's older sister, but because of their large age difference and the fact that Kolbie will only be one year younger, I surmise Shayann will be looked at more as a second mama than a big sister. I can't wait to see how the future unfolds for our growing family!

Princess Poops-A-Lot...

Is Abbie's nickname now. For *hopefully* obvious reasons. Brett assures me he did, but I don't ever remember Bryce's bowels being so...well, active.

She's either got a ripe diaper, or she's working on a ripe diaper. For the first 3-4 weeks, I can count on one hand how many diapers I changed that did not contain solid (or mostly solid) material.

I hope you aren't eating while reading this. My humble apologies if your meal is no longer appetizing.

Abbie now has a fussy time every evening. 7 to 9-ish every night is the time that, no matter, what we do, she just cries. She acts hungry, so we feed her and she rejects her bottle. She seems gassy so we try and pound the gas out of her (we're really quite gentle, honest), nothing comes out. She acts tired, we rock, and rock, and rock her, the minute we stop, she wakes up and...cries (my mom thinks this part is hilarious, because I apparently did this to my dad as an infant, all the time). Then, like a miracle, around 9 or so, she takes her bottle, burps easily and passes out without so much as a whimper. Perplexing. Luckily, this is our second "dog and pony show," so Brett and I haven't tried to kill each other yet. We just pass her back and forth for 2-3 hours until one of us has some success.

Last night, I took a friend's advice and tried to feed and burp her, bathe her and put her down for bed before the fussiness began. And it worked! Here's hoping it works again tonight!

PRAY FOR US! :)

Life With Abbie

My baby girl is almost 4 weeks old...and just one week shy of one month old. She already looks different and bigger to me than she did at birth. She is an extremely easy baby (knock on wood), and though she wakes up very regularly to eat at night, she most always goes right back to sleep. I am able to nurse her and I just get such a rush of joy and love when I am able to cuddle my little girl and stare into her blueberry eyes.

Bryce is very protective of his baby. I've overheard him on more than one occasion telling someone who is looking at her that she is very fragile and they must use hand sanitizer before they hold her. He constantly hugs and kisses on her, and wants to know where she is if she's not right with us. People ask him what he thinks of his sister or if he's a good big brother. I think he's finally getting a little tired of that question, because his answers have gone from an emphatic "yes, I'm a great big brother!" to an almost annoyed "yeah, she's great and I'm great." I think it's becoming very taxing on him to not be the center of attention...at least for now. If I know my boy like I think I do, he'll quickly find ways to steal the limelight from his baby sister in the near future. But for now, he's a least being civil about folks oohing and aahing over his baby.

Brett has told me that Abbie already has him wrapped around her finger. He is so relaxed and natural this time around, so patient with her and still managing to find lots of things to do with Bryce so he doesn't feel left out. He went back to work last week, so I've been flying solo at night, but he's quite the champ on the weekends. Even lets me sleep in from time to time!

Balancing the two kiddos is difficult, but not as hard as I thought it would be. I've learned that as soon as Abbie's done nursing, that's the best time to make meals, take a shower or head off for errands...I have about 2 1/2 to 3 hours before she'll be ready to eat again. I probably put Bryce in front of a movie more than I should, but luckily the sun is still shining and our teachers are still striking, so the neighbor kids and bicycling have kept Bryce occupied while I learn to entertain two.

The Birth Story of Abbie Kathleen Monahan

First of all, allow me to share some beautiful pictures and some stats about my precious daughter. Then I'll get to the "good" stuff (WARNING: I will not get too detailed or gory, but I apologize in advance if I make you feel uncomfortable!)






Abbie Kathleen Monahan was born ON her due date, August 20, 2009 at 8:19PM. She weighed in at 7lb 11oz, is 18.5 in long, and had a NORMAL sized head (I managed to slip by the curse of the "Monahan" head!). From the time they broke my water until the moment she was born was about 7 hours.

On the 19th, I was getting very frustrated with still being pregnant despite the fact we hadn't hit the due date yet. I started having contractions at around 35 weeks, so EVERYONE, including myself assumed she was going to come early. Therefore, at any point before the due date that I started have a twinge of what I thought might be impending labor, I began to get very excited. I would start timing contractions to see if there were any regularity to them, and began really nesting (ie: cleaning incessantly) in my house so I wouldn't have to come back to a huge mess after being in the hospital. Of course, nothing would ever result of these early labor contractions, they would fizzle and I would become a bit disheartened. It became very tempting to try all of those "natural" induction methods you read about and your mommy friends tell you about to get the baby out.

So, again, on the 19th, after having been up 3 nights in a row timing some fairly uncomfortable and somewhat regular contractions, only to wake up in the morning pain free with NO contractions, I was at my wits end. I walked my neighborhood a few times, and we went grocery shopping later that day, where I power walked the aisles. Again, the evening of the 19th, I began contracting, but I was trying very hard not to get my hopes up, as I knew these would likely fizzle out too. But, I hopped on Facebook and chatted with a friend into the wee hours of the morning as we sort of timed them together. Around 4 AM they were anywhere between 4-7 min apart, but were progressively getting stronger and longer. So, I decided I would hop in the bath tub and soak for a little bit...warm water will make them go away if they were not the real deal. I hopped into the tub and had 3 contractions, one on top of the other. So, I called my OB's nurseline and they instructed me to head to Labor and Delivery.

Waking Brett up proved to be more difficult than I had envisioned. He looked at me like I was crazy, like I maybe was believing the contractions into existence, just because he knew how badly I wanted to just have this baby. He slowly got up and got dressed, as I rushed around the house packing all of the last minute things you can't pack until it's time, making contingency plans for Bryce and ensuring my mom (who is staying with us), would have a way down to the hospital come morning. We took off and got to the hospital at around 5:30AM.

They took me into their little triage department first. I don't know if that's standard protocol, of if they did that just because I was able to walk in there on my own volition (I was not going to let the niceties such as a wheelchair ride into the hospital take away from the intensity of these contractions!). They hooked me up to the monitors, and confirmed that my contractions were now about 4-6 min apart, but my blood pressure was through the ROOF! They took it several times and though it came down slightly, it was still elevated. They figured I was likely in that phase between pre-labor and active labor, and would have sent me home had it not been for my high BP (I've never been so grateful for a high reading). I was admitted!

They set me up in a room, which apparently was the last and largest room on the floor (it was like staying in a SUITE!), and then my contractions began to fizzle. So, up walking we went. Contractions came back, would get more intense and regular, and then would fizzle out again. So, again, we would walk. We did this until about 12:30 in the afternoon, with no progress in the dilation/effacement arena. At which point, my OB made the call to have my water broken in order to speed the process along. And boy howdy, did it ever. My water was broken at 1PM.

The first hour of contractions were tolerable. Definitely needed to focus and breathe through them, but they were tolerable. Then out of nowhere, I got hit by a freight train. My mental mantra when they hit was "body like jello, body like jello, body like jello" until I was taken by surprise by the crazy wave of pain and inner wringing out that my body went through. Mom and Brett were quietly watching a movie as I was breathing through them when I began to moan, and breathe heavy. They looked at me, wondering what I needed of them (I had apparently been doing fine on my own and was trying to be Miss Independent prior to this). I grabbed Brett's hand and tried breaking his fingers off. When that didn't work, I said very loudly and insistently "EPIDURAL TIME, EPIDURAL TIME, EPIDURAL TIME" over and over again until the contraction finally eased up on me. Next thing I knew the anesthesiologist was there giving me sweet relief. This epidural's entrance was more painful than I remember it being the first time around, but as they say, it was well worth it to be able to enjoy my labor after that point. I made it a bit longer without pain meds than I did with Bryce, so I patted myself on the back and looked forward.

I was able to labor sitting up, and my epidural was perfect. I could feel pressure, but no pain, and I could still move my legs around. At some point, they had my lay on my left side, in order to help speed up the dilation process, I was almost 10 cm and they were looking for a little quicker way to get me there. Well, that did it. All of a sudden, I had this fear that my epidural had worn off, because I could feel a ton of pressure and though it didn't hurt per se, it was uncomfortable. I had Brett go get the nurse, and sure enough what I was feeling was the urge to push because I was at a 10!!!

The nurses then switched shifts and I had to wait for the new nurses to set up shop and get the resident doctor and my OB in the room. They had me do a couple "practice" pushes, just so I would know what it was I needed to do, and then they immediately stopped me, because she was COMING! The resident donned her mask and gown quickly and the OB finally came running into the room. 3 more good pushes and Abbie Kathleen made her grand entrance into the world. She was wriggling and crying loudly, very unimpressed with the bright lights and cold, but she was perfectly healthy and beautiful. :)

She eats like a champ, and despite a bit of jaundice that required some in-home bililights and a nurse stopping by daily for the first couple of days, all is well. Abbie is a very good-natured baby, actually sleeps at night in between feedings and likes to be cuddled up with anyone who will hold her (rest assured, she's rarely put down between all of us)!

The Downside of a Multi-Doctor Clinic

I love the upsides to multi-doctor clinics. For instance, Bryce sees a primary pediatrician in a clinic full of 'em. So, when there's an emergency and his doc is off, Bryce can still be seen by SOMEONE there and get the care he needs, without me having to swoop him off to the ER or Urgent Care all the time.

My OB's office is similar. I have a primary OB, but in times of emergency, I can see any one of 5 (they partner two offices together in order to have that many on staff). This is nice because, I could really have this baby at any time, and it is comforting to me to know, that, if my OB is not on call, someone from her office will deliver Abbie and will know my chart.

Or so I thought.

Because of my experiences with being pregnant with Bryce and having pregnancy-induced hypertension, I'm ACUTELY aware of signs of high blood pressure and pre-eclampsia (to those of you who don't know, pre-eclampsia is a serious pregnancy complication that can lead to a whole host of problems...usually bedrest and sometimes early induction/C section follow). Last week, I gained 5 lbs in 4 days. That is NOT normal. Normal at this stage is about 1-2 lbs/week. I can assure you that I was not sucking down Tagalong Blizzards and Big Macs (though they are quite tasty). I was also swelling a lot, and Monday morning my eyes were swollen and I was having blurry vision. The weight gain and these symptoms are all signals that pre-eclampsia may be on the horizon.

My OB is on vacation. She will be back on the 4th. So, Monday, I call my OB's office, advise them of my symtpoms and as what I should do. Well, I should come in of course, only the OTHER OB in the office is out too, so I'll need to go to the downtown clinic to see Dr. P. (using abbreviations only to be kind...I'd dime these folks out in a second if I thought anything they did in the following paragraphs was gratuitous and intentional). So, I see Dr. P. Luckily, my BP is normal (GREAT sign), but they want to run some blood labs, so I oblige the vampires.

I receive a call this morning from Dr. P's office. There were some abdormal readings, so they want me to take some more blood tests. This time I ask if I can do them at the clinic near my home and ask what it's all about. THEY DON'T WANT TO TELL ME. I finally prod, and the nurse mentions something about my liver. Fan.tas.tic.

So, I rush into the lab to give the vampires a second helping of my O negative, and then await my 3PM appointment with my OB's partner, Dr. W. Untreated anxiety made today a living hell for me. All sorts of terrible scenarios floated through my head, and it was everything I could do to get through my daily alotment of work.

I get to the appointment, and Dr. W's nurse tells me that he's still in surgery and I'll be seeing the nurse practitioner. Uh, what? I have nothing against nurses, and I know that 9 times out of 10 they've got it figured out before the docs, but THIS is serious...THIS is my liver. THIS could mean inductions or a c-section if it's serious enough...can a nurse make that call?

I wait for about 20 min in the waiting room, and then another 20 min in the procedure room. All of a sudden, the nurse comes in, moves me to a different room and tells me Dr. W is there and can see me. Phew, that's a relief.

I wait another 10 minutes, before Dr W comes waltzing through the door. And he looks at me funny. I would have stood to shake his hand, but I'm 37 weeks pregnant thank you very much, and I don't feel like getting up. So, I wait for him to sit in front of the computer, and check my chart, and ask me why I'm there. EXCUSE ME? I realize you just came from surgery, but the least you could have done was read the notes the nurse wrote on the back of my chart. So, I calmly explain the symptoms I'd had which led to my Monday appointment with Dr. P. He looks at the blood drawn on Monday, and says, "well, it all looks very normal to me..." WHAT? Are you kidding me? "Well," I reply, "they called me this morning and requested that I take more tests, did you get those results?" I haven't seen a blanker stare since I asked Bryce if it was he or the cat the squeezed all of the toothpaste down the sink. "Oh!" He says, as he quickly pulls up my chart on the computer...."yep, those labs look good, too."

Well, then WHAT IN THE HELL did I need to give blood for again? Obviously, if Dr. P thought they were normal, I wouldn't have given more this morning and I wouldn't be here NOW! So, he says, "well, your platelets are a little low...normal is 150 to (some number I can't remember) and you are at 148. That is where you were at on Monday and that's where you're at today."

"So, what does that mean?"

"Well, nothing really. You're just a TINY bit low. It's really nothing to worry about. I'd just keep doing what your doing and see Dr. G (my normal OB) next Wednesday." He listed for Abbie's heartbeat, measured my stomach and then left the room.

I was SO PISSED. Not pissed that Abbie and I are healthy, mind you. I'm very grateful for that.

Pissed that I spent my ENTIRE day, FREAKING out. I had called my mom, and she was seconds from hopping a plane early. Brett was in a PANIC, coming up with contingency plans for his workload should he need to leave early.

So, I called them both, told them we were A-OK, and I was a victim of the left hand not knowing what the right hand was doing.

Funny thing is, I betcha I'll get a call from Dr. P's office, wanting to go over my results, and maybe even ordering MORE labs, because according to nonchalant Dr. W, the results from today were the same as Monday.

We'll see how they decide to play this one.

Baby Abbie Update

I am one day shy of 36 weeks, less than 1 month before my due date of August 20th. I've slowed way down, I can't move around too much without it being a bit painful...she feels like she's going to fall right out of my stomach and onto the floor! I've gained a total of 33 lbs....not bad considering a "healthy" weight gain is 25-35 lbs, and I gained over 50 with Bryce. My blood pressure is still excellent.

I had non-productive contractions for several hours on Sunday afternoon/evening and ended up in L&D. They made me chug water, confirmed yes, I was having contractions, but they weren't doing anything, they weren't painful, and I wasn't dilated or effaced, so they sent me home with instructions to "take it easy." Apparently, they don't know what my life is like! :)

Monday I was extremely crampy all day, but no contractions. Same on Tuesday. Wed AM (this morning) I woke up at 4AM with TERRIBLE heartburn, and decided to just begin my work day early. I'll probably actually finish up my "work" day in a couple of hours and then just be available by phone and check my voicemail periodically, and try and catch a cat nap. I have had a few more contractions this morning, but again, non-painful and non-productive.

I was told if I go into labor on my own at this point, they will NOT try and and stop it. Depending on how early Abbie comes and if she has any issues, she may need some short-term help in the NICU, but anything after 37 weeks is considered full-term and healthy...so we're 1 week and 1 day away from being full-term. I'm just trying to keep her in one more week.

My luck she'll decide to just stay in, cause me to wonder for weeks if it's "time", and then be late. If that's the case, then there would be no mistaking that she is definitely MY daughter. :)

M.I.A.

I've not blogged in some time now. I've determined I have no reason to blog when things are well...this site seems to have become my personal punching bag. Which, alas, is good, so that I can take my frustrations out here and not on my poor, unsuspecting family. But, since it appears I have a few followers, figured I should probably give an update on life as I know it. :)

I am now 31 weeks pregnant, which for you lay folk is almost 8 months. A full-term pregnancy is 40 weeks, which technically is 10 months when all said and done. My closest girlfriends are throwing me my one and only (at my request) shower next weekend and I'm hoping my registry is near empty by that time. Otherwise, I'll be spending a day in Babies R Us getting the stuff I really need. You know, it's funny...the first time around, I registered for all sorts of things, most of which I didn't end up using...the second time around, I know exactly what I need, what worked, etc, so I didn't bother with a lot of things those stupid baby websites tell you you're going to need.

The rooms got shifted about a month ago. Bryce's room is done, he has his bunk beds now complete with two twin mattresses and Lightning McQueen/Mater bedding. He has a new dresser that's red and Brett put Cars stickers all over it. It's very cool and Bryce adores his new room. He transitioned well, which was a huge relief.

Shayann is hardly ever here anymore, so her room is still unpacked, but the bed's made and the boxes stacked neatly, so I don't care. I know eventually she'll want to have her room back and she'll make it her own.

Brett has been in the process of painting the blue wall in Abbie's room pink for a few weeks now. You see, when we moved in, I painted a blue accent wall (it was Bryce's room to start), and I got a WEE bit of paint on the trim. So, now Brett isn't sure whether or not he can live with that tiny speck of blue paint on the trim of the pink wall, so he's debating on tearing out the trim and putting up new trim. So, until he makes up his mind, the wall is pink except for about 2 inches toward the bottom that are still Thomas the Tank Engine blue. Also because of this, all of her furniture is in the middle of the room and not put nicely where it goes. Her crib is decked with her new bedding though. Once I get Brett to finish the work in that room, I will take a pic of the finished product and share with you!

Speaking of paint, Brett still has not finished the trimwork in the remainder of the house. So, I still have an extension ladder sitting by my front door, paint cans and paraphernalia in my living room and a non-painted, non-mirrored downstairs bathroom. Still no backsplash in either the bathroom or the kitchen, either.

Can I tell you how absolutely frustrating it is, that, if he's lucky, the man's got 9 weeks until we will literally have NO time to finish these projects? I will absolutely kill him if these are not done before Abbie arrives. There is just no excuse. It's absolutely ridiculous.

If anyone has any advice or pointers about how else I can persuade my procrastinator husband to get this crap done, now would be the time to share!!!

Up

It's 1:30AM...where are you?

I am sitting on my couch, watching Abbie go CRAZY under my shirt. She literally kicked me out of a sound sleep and I'm waiting for her to calm back down so I can get back to sleep. First time in either pregnancy that's happened. Kinda cool, but damn, I'm tired!

On a random side note, though I LOVED Jimmy Fallon when he was on Saturday Night Live, I don't think he's found his groove yet hosting a late night show. He's certainly no Conan O'Brien. I'm trying to give him the benefit of the doubt, but I'm just not seeing him lasting long in this role. Craig Ferguson over on CBS is much funnier and a better host.

I can feel my heartbeat in my hands when I clench my fists...is that weird?

Well, I'm going to try swaying back and forth, quite possibly to rock this little chica back to sleep...and if that doesn't work...well...maybe I'll just exhaust myself back to sleep.

Sweet Dreams!

She's a Kicker

I'm tired of blogging about the house, because we have progress and then we backslide. Then I throw a fit and we have progress. And then we backslide. And the vicious cycle continues.

As I type I'm being amused by my little daughter, who just LOVES to kick, punch, and turn somersaults in my stomach all night long. She wakes up about 9, does this stretch with her arms and legs (from what I can imagine...it feels like that anyway), and then proceeds to "work out" in my belly for a good couple of hours. Then she goes through her set of sporadic movements (which I now can see from the outside), and eventually settles back down with a good set of hiccups around midnight. Then, I don't "hear" a thing from here until 10 or so the next morning. I can already see she'll be much like her mama: a night owl that LOVES to sleep in, and a fighter. :)

Progress Continues

I got a pleasant surprise this week:

Our contractor came back after his bout with bronchitis that turned to pneumonia (poor guy!), and finished our cabinets! They look AWESOME! It's amazing what trim and toe kicks can do for the looks of cabinetry! We're waiting on one last check from the insurance company for some incidentals, and then we will be able to buy and install the moldings for the rest of the house.

Brett's brother came over diligently this week and painted the ENTIRE house with our chosen color Mexican Sand. It's a nice medium tan/taupe color, but is also somewhat warm and really did wonders to make the house feel more homey and less airy. Amazing what paint can do. The only thing he did not do was trim up to the ceiling. I can't say I blame him, with Brett being an anal-retentive asshole when it comes to painting and "perfect" lines. He was right to just let Brett climb the ladder and let him do it himself. I would have done the same thing! :)

An unexpected surprise greeting me Thursday afternoon upon returning home: Brett has hired a landscaper to clean up our yard, remove the moss from the grass, and lay beauty bark in our flower beds. Those of you who know our lost battles with the yard over the years, or have seen the enormity of the yard we purchased with our home know that, other than my little garden I placed in one of the flowerbeds last year and the one bed we turned back into grass, we haven't had much success with making the backyard look great. Brett worked SO hard last year thatching, aerating and re-seeding the grass. We winterized it, only to see even MORE moss come back this year. We also have very sad palm trees staring at us, asking for help (which we don't know how to give, because we didn't grow up in Hawaii like the folks who owned the house before us). Luckily, the fellows that will be maintaining the lawn for the next several months are from, shall we say, much warmer climates, where palm trees/bushes are much more prevalent. I'm sure our sad little trees will be much happier within the next few weeks.

I've had that nasty little cold that's been going around for the last few days, and yesterday I went back to work after taking 1 1/2 days off to recuperate. I noticed some cramps that felt more like sharp, stabbing pains, but figured they were probably just aches and pains from being sick. It wasn't until later in the afternoon that I realized these "cramps" were coming and going, and had some sort of rhythm to them...I'd have one about every 5-15 minutes, and they only lasted about 10-20 seconds. They got more and more painful as the day wore on, and I thought to myself, "hmm...I don't think they're contractions, they don't feel like them, but this definitely is NOT normal." So, I called my nurse line, which suggested a trip to the urgent care. At the Urgent Care I was told they weren't equipped to deal with preggo's, so Labor and Delivery at our local hospital was waiting for me. WHAT?! Suddenly, my mind was thrust into "wonder what THIS is all about" mode to "oh my God, they think I'm in pre-term labor!" Quick arrangements were made for Bryce, Brett got a friend to drive me to the ER (thanks Dan!) and I was whisked away to L&D, where monitors were hooked up to me to check fetal heartbeat and contractions. And guess what? After a solid 2 hours of either being hooked up to the monitors, having blood drawn, or having a full-blown ultrasound, I was told that I was FINE, and Abbie was FINE too (THANK THE LORD!). They couldn't tell me what the stabbing pains were, but they knew they were definitely NOT contractions, so they sent me on my merry way. At midnight.

Brett and I were trying to trouble shoot on my way home, while wolfing down some Wendy's (we didn't eat dinner). All of a sudden, my pains became really severe, and it occurred to me....now...how to phrase this politely....that, well, I hadn't had a BM in a couple of days. How embarrassing to realize you just spent 3-4 hours at the ER/L&D because you have bad gas. Even better, realize how much money you just spent when you could've made a quick trip to Safeway for prune juice and baked beans. Dear Lord. Well, at least with my various ailments since the first of this year, we've already paid our 100% maximum out of pocket expenses for the ENTIRE family (between Bryce's broken leg and all my diagnostic testing for dizziness/pregnancy issues), so this trip should be mostly if not entirely free.

Today, I was still a bit crampy, but had myself a white chocolate mocha and a fanTAStic McDonald's breakfast on our way out to see Brett play softball. Let's just say that I'm not crampy anymore.

I'm just glad that everyone's okay. Better to be safe than sorry, right?

Baby Abbie Monahan

As promised, here are the photos of our baby girl at our 20 week appointment. The only real difference between these and her 16 week photos are that she's gotten a teeny bit bigger, and we now know she is definitely a girl. :)

Enjoy!




This last one is cool, because you can kind of make out that she's sucking her thumb (head is in the lower right corner), and she's resting her elbow on her knee. Just chillin'. :)