DIY Fail

Pinterest has inspired me a lot to think about making more things myself, rather than buying them.  I have plans to make my own Laundry Detergent (after my current enormous bottle runs out), this is a recipe I've found everywhere and from the research I've done it seems great.  I ran across some home made shampoo recipes and in the mean time I found something called No-Poo that seemed so amazing.  I thought to myself, wow how awesome would I be if I could do this and save tons of money and also be so eco-friendly and low maintenance.  FIRST FAIL.  My hair was like, well, it was like, just awful!  Not for me at all, couldn't get a comb through it.  So I thought, ok fine, I had found another awesome sounding Coconut Shampoo recipe that sounded just lovely, tons of great reviews for it, and yes a few it didn't work for too.  I made it and used it.  SECOND FAIL!  O-M-G, my hair looked like it was in dreadlocks after it dried.  Just clumps of hair, it felt as though I had put a ton of wax in it.  Again, couldn't get a comb through it, not even my widest tooth comb.

THEN, one of my other DIY ventures, a closet ceiling wrapping paper storage (here's a pic for ya):

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I hear a CRASH, so I walk down the hall and see both cats on our bed all puffed up looking at the closet.  I look over to the closet and it looked as though the closet had thrown up Christmas.  THIRD FAIL.  Now yes, this one indeed was user error 100%, and it can be fixed, I just thought it was funny that within a 24 hour period just about everything I tried to DIY totally failed.  I am a little discouraged, but I am going to keep trying different things.  As far as the shampoo though, that I will just stick to store bought!

Schooling the Kids

It doesn't take much but to watch the news to see how horrifying the world is, it's probably always been horrifying, it's just broadcasted more now.  I try to avoid it really, I already know there are monsters out there, contrary to what I tell Emma all the time. "No honey there are no such things as monsters."  I feel like a monster myself telling her this since I know it's a lie; but then again she believes in Santa, so I guess it isn't the only reality she will one day come to find mommy has be dishonest about.

I have decided I would like to home school.  I know that most teachers are fine; my brother in law, and one of my closest friends, are teachers. My mom has been in education for years as a teacher and now as a principal, so I know that it is not common for a teacher to be a predator.  I know even more teachers than that, and the ones I know are great, passionate teachers.  What is common, though, is apathy among teachers.  And you know, I don't blame them!  It's ridiculous the hoops that teachers have to jump through these days, and it's at the expense of our children's education.  Teaching to these absurd standardized tests, classroom overcrowding, and the parents they have to deal with, there's not enough money in the world for me to do that!  And on top of that they don't make much for what they have to put up with.

I don't know, at this point, if I will home school their whole education through high school, but I do know for sure for the first several years I will.  I'm so relieved!  I've been having anxiety about taking Emma to her first day of Kindergarten since she was still in the womb.  I don't trust many people with my babies!  And I really can't imagine dropping her off and leaving her somewhere with some person and a group of obnoxious children I don't know (I admittedly do not like the vast majority of other people's children, certainly not ALL, but yes, a vast majority!).  I can see myself showing up on the playground after learning someone called Emma a name and giving some 5 year old a piece of my mind.  I know I can't protect them forever, but I can protect them for longer than the first 5 years!  I was teased in school, and I don't feel like I learned anything from it.  I am still sensitive and get my feelings hurt easily, so it certainly didn't thicken my skin any, it just taught me that people are mean, and it gave me lots of anxiety.

When I look back at my education in elementary, middle, and high school, you know what I remember?  I remember trying to talk my mom into letting me stay home just about every day.  I hated school, hated it with every fiber of my being.  Sure, I have some good memories, and made a couple friends that I still have to this day, but it was never something I loved, or even tolerated well.  I will ensure my kids have the same opportunities to join sports and go to events and socialize with other kids their age.  If they want to go to dances and proms and all that stupid crap, I'll make sure they get to.  I've never met a well adjusted adult who went to school their whole lives who loved it (it's mainly those people who are still acting like teenagers in their 30s who say high school was awesome).  Even now my mom and I talk about it and she always says she wishes she'd have known more about home schooling when we were all in school, but she just didn't know the resources to look into.

I remember in 2nd grade I went to a Catholic school that year.  I had spent Kindergarten and 1st grade at a regular ol' public school and I was way behind those private school kids.  We had reading groups according to color, and the chart was in the back of the classroom, so it was no secret what colors were associated with what reading level.  Well I was an Olive (ya, ugly color for the low level readers), and Aqua was the highest one, there was like maybe 5 colors in between the 2 but I don't remember those.  I specifically remember a boy named Peter, cute blonde hair blue eyed little boy, that I had a crush on.  He was an Aqua.  Even at the young age of 7 I remember thinking that I was dumb, and that someone in the Aqua reading group wouldn't like someone in the Olive reading group.  I hate that memory.  I hate it for more than the fact that I felt dumb at such a young age, I hate it because I don't think it's fair to compare kids at that age and basically have them know, among themselves, who is ahead and who is behind.  It sets kids up to have low expectation of themselves if they are lower level, and I believe (even though I have no proof) that it sets the higher level kids up to be more judgmental.  Now, when we moved that summer and I ended up back in public school in 3rd grade I was WAY ahead of my peers, especially in reading, so it worked out ok after my year of hell (even though they still split the class up into reading levels and every kid still knew who was high and who was low).  I ended up going on to graduate high school at 16 years old, but my motivation to do so was my intense hatred for school, not any sort of motivation stemming from being an overachiever, because that I am not.

Luke's Birth Story *Gory Detail Warning*

Contractions woke me up at 2am December 20th, 2011 (my due date).  I knew right away it was the real thing even though I had thought that several times, including exactly a week before when I went to the hospital thinking I may be in labor.  I waited about a half hour before I woke Jason up, then waited another half hour before we called my mother in law to come over to watch Emma.  We got to the hospital about 3:40am.  By then the contractions were getting to the point that I really didn't want to do this whole baby thing anymore.  When the triage nurse checked me I was at 6 cm already; just a few days before I was at 3 cm (which I had been for weeks).  At some point soon after that, the labor and delivery nurse came and wheeled me up to the delivery room.  I want to say it was close to 5am by then, and I was waiting for my mom to get there and for my damn epidural.  The contractions were getting so bad that I was crying and getting extremely nauseous.  The wonderful nurse was so patient with my ridiculous freaking out, and she also got the anesthesiologist to come give the the epidural before they even did my blood work because I was freaking out so much.  I was sweating like a sumo wrestler in a sauna.  That wonderful man came and did my epidural, and while he was I started feeling an immense amount of pressure, though I did not tell the nurse yet in fear they would start having my push before I was good and numb.  It took some time but the epidural took effect.  The good thing was it didn't numb me as much as the one I had with Emma, so I could still feel the pressure (even though at the time that freaked me out).  When they checked me again I was 10 cm already!  My water hadn't broken yet, so the nurse said that the dr. could come in and break it and I could start pushing.  I asked if we could please wait for my mom, and luckily she got there a few minutes later.  My dr. wasn't on call, but the dr. that was, was really nice.  The dr. broke my water and I pushed through 3 contractions and he was born, it took like 5 minutes!  He came so quick that during the last contraction they made me stop pushing because his head was out and the dr. didn't have her 2nd glove on yet.  He came so quickly I was shocked.  That's the thing I've already learned; having one child prepares you in no way for your next child.

Emma's Birth Story *Gory Details Warning*

Found this record of my labor and delivery with Emma, thought I'd post it since I'm going to post Luke's.

I had been to the hospital I think 3 times prior to being in actual labor thinking I may have been in labor.  My biggest fear was not getting to the hospital in time, I realize many people plan to have their babies at home and I think that’s just wonderful; however I am certainly not one of those women.  I would have preferred getting the epidural prior to any contractions starting, to my dismay they don’t do that, hmph.  May 4^th, 2009 I went to the hospital thinking I was possibly in labor, the nurse in triage was very nice although I did get the feeling she thought I was silly for not knowing.  She said “You will know when the contractions are real”.  Everyone says that, what if I’m the one idiot who doesn’t know???  What if I have an extremely high tolerance for pain (hahahaha ya right).  May 6^th, 2009 (38 weeks and 6 days pregnant) I went to my weekly doctor appointment, my mom came with.  I was 2 cm dilated and 80% effaced, which was twice as much as the week before, in both departments.  Just as the week before, my doctor mentioned my mucous plug was dissolving.  At this point I was pretty darn over being pregnant, so I asked my doctor when we would speak about induction (other than my own mother, all of the other mothers I know have had to be induced so I figured I would too).  She told me that we wouldn’t talk about it until I was past my due date and said she didn’t think I would make it to my next weekly appointment.  I didn’t believe her.  I had been walking and sitting and rocking on the birthing ball (which was an exercise ball up until I sat on it while pregnant, hehe), anything natural I had heard of to help labor along and so far nothing so I had given up.  I went home after my appointment and took a 2 hour nap.  I had been having frequent Braxton Hicks contractions for a long time (weeks if not a couple months by then) but after my nap, although they weren’t more painful, they felt different than they had.  At the time I figured that was wishful thinking on my part.  At 7pm I decided to go to bed and lay down because I was starting to get uncomfortable, I lay on my left side and drank a lot of water, that pretty much stayed the same for hours.  Jason and I turned off the lights at 11pm like normal, by then the contractions had become more painful than they had been.  I lay in bed for maybe a half hour to 45 minutes and had to get up because I was beginning to be in pain.  I went to the living room and went to a website I had found weeks earlier that had a contraction timer on it.  They were already only 1 and a half to 2 and a half minutes apart.  They seriously went from meh kind of uncomfortable to very painful within a half hour and were already that close together.  During that time I took several trips to the bathroom and during one of those trips found the rest of my mucous plug and bloody show (read too many pregnancy and labor books).  At that point I went into the bedroom to wake Jason up, but he was already awake.  It was about 12:30am (May 7, 2009), luckily we had already packed our suitcase of the essentials and I had an extensive list of last minute items to pack, which I was thanking God I had made because I was in too much pain to think.  I knew for sure with no question that I was in real labor; I had to be because if this wasn’t real labor and there was worse pain I was going to feel I knew I would die.  We had already arranged for the feeding of the animals and everything, so I felt good leaving the house, good thing I was organized.  We got to the hospital a little before 1am.  I just had Jason park so he didn’t have to go back out after walking me in.  We checked into triage (which I was familiar with having done it several times before) and got into a room.  I got into a gown and into the bed, hooked to the monitors.  I could plainly see on the screen how much bigger these contractions were than my tiny little painless ones I had seen on the monitor just days before.  I was already more dilated and effaced.  The nurse in Triage was the same one from a few days before when I was there.  She was very nice and helped me find a good breathing pattern that helped a teensy bit with the pain.  Then the nurse paged a doctor from my doctor’s office that was on call and he said to admit me, which was good cuz I wasn’t leaving.  I don’t know why, but I insisted I didn’t need a wheel chair and walked up to the labor and delivery floor, well I took the elevator, but it was still a pretty long walk in a gown, in labor.  I really couldn’t have prepared myself for how horrible contractions were.  People tell you so many different things, “oh they aren’t that bad” or “they’re like really awful cramps”, my sister was the only one who told the truth, she said “You will know because you will feel like death in near”.  I was ready to bang my head against a wall in order to knock myself out.  I’m not very tough, I asked for the epidural at the triage counter.  I had never planned on having a natural labor but I didn’t really know how soon I would ask for the pain to be relieved.  So I got into the labor room, which was so weird and cool at the same time, this was where I was going to give birth, it still didn’t seem real.  My first nurse was subpar (and that’s being nice).  She told me to lay on my left side, so I did, then she went to the right side of the bed, grabbed my right arm (twisting it behind me) and proceeded to try to find a vein.  People always have trouble finding good veins and she just kept telling me to stop moving, stop cringing.  Oh excuse me Miss nurse it’s not like I’m in the worst pain in my life, good lord.  So she tried one vein and she did not succeed, I still have issues with my right arm because of her amateur attempts to start an IV.  She ended up getting another nurse to help and they finally got it in.  I proceed to continue to ask when exactly that epidural will be, “oh any time any time”, ya right.  Well my body’s natural reaction to ‘cleanse’ itself before labor prompted me to call the nurse and tell her I had to use the restroom, and stat.  Needed help because of the IV and huge pole I was connected to.  While waiting for the doctor to relieve my pain I threw up from the pain, no fun.  So after that, around 4am the anesthesiologist came in.  I love him, hehe.  I was a little scared of the whole needle in the back thing.  I’m not scared of needles or shots or IVs but the thought of a needle in the spine and the catheter inserted in made me cringe.  Luckily the contractions were so very intense, and still a minute apart at the most (had been since they started) that I didn’t even notice.  Oh by the way, I think it’s hilarious they warn you of all of the possible side effects of the epidural when you’re sitting there in pain.  I would have agreed to anything at that point!  They told me it would take about 20 minutes for the epidural to work but it pretty much helped immediately.  I did indeed tell that doctor I loved him, and I meant it!  I didn’t really believe prior to that, that anything could have taken that pain away.  I don’t know how anyone goes through a long labor naturally.  At the point when I had gotten the epidural I still had 9 more hours of labor to go, I wouldn’t have made it, especially since I didn’t sleep all night.  The nurse then attempted to insert a catheter into my bladder; luckily I was numb because she had trouble with that too.  She, again, had to go get another nurse to help with that.  I couldn’t believe it, like aren’t IVs and catheters normal things on a labor and delivery floor?  Oh ya, Jason was there during all of this, but I was a little bit distracted.  He was able to get some sleep off and on in the fold out chair. Happily at around 7am there was a shift change and I got a new nurse, she rocked and luckily she was there through my delivery.  At some point that morning I tried to move a little and shifted my weight and felt a huge gush.  Called the nurse and indeed my water had broken.  Every time they checked me my dilation and effacement was progressing and so was Emma’s position.  My doctor came in and said hello sometime that morning as well, she had several patients in labor as well as a few surgeries.  My nurse was very attentive.  At 10am my nurse (I think her name was Hannah) told me my doctor had one more procedure to do and if I didn’t mind she wanted me to labor down for a while so the baby would come to a lower station before I started pushing.  I was already 10 cm and 100%, and since I wasn’t in pain and preferred not having to push for 3 hours (or however long it would’ve been) I didn’t mind waiting, plus I was scared.  At 11:30am my nurse had me start pushing.  That moment that she asked me to push for the first time was so surreal, I knew I was in labor but like this was IT!  So I pushed, and I pushed and I pushed some more, then I threw up again.  Then the nurse had me stop for a few minutes and had my doctor paged.  At 12:45pm I would say, my doctor came in.  I had assumed I would get an episiotomy but my doctor informed me I had already torn, that kinda sucked in my mind.  She got all gloved up and ready.  Now although I was numb and all, the next 2 sets of pushes were so intense I thought I was going to pass out.  I could feel my heart beating so hard I thought I was having a heart attack or something.  I remember vaguely Jason saying something like “You’re almost there”.  Then there she was on my chest!  I couldn’t believe it, there she was, all this time and she was here.  It’s all kind of a blur, but I know they took her over and did whatever they do and Jason went over there with her.  I delivered the placenta, she fixed me all up and that all seemed like it took forever.  My doctor told me she thought it would be a good idea to remove a small mole I had in that area since I was already numb, so I agreed (later I would wish I wouldn’t have).  Now, I had been shivering almost the whole time I was in labor from the epidural, but it kind of came and went with the intensity.  They gave me some shots into my IV after labor and I began shivering so bad I begged for something to make it stop.  My body was so tired I couldn’t take the shaking, and it was so bad I couldn’t even hold Emma AND my jaws felt like I had been punch on both sides by a heavy weight boxer.  They gave me a shot of something and it stopped after a few minutes thank goodness.  My doctor said she couldn’t take the catheter out because I was too swollen (obviously because of the multiple multiple failures to put it in), so I could have it taken out the next morning.  That turned out to not be such a bad thing because I didn’t have to make any trips to the bathroom.  They brought me some juice which I drank much to fast since I hadn’t drank anything since the night before, and then proceeded to throw up again.  What a day.  I count that my labor started at 11pm because that’s when the contractions started hurting, so it was 14 hours, not bad for a first baby.

Due date shmoo date

I can't believe Christmas is only a week away.  I've been slightly distracted with the large child in my abdomen making me miserable with anxiety in regards to his arrival.  I don't know how women go on to have many children, this is beyond my scope of coping.  I guess we are are blessed with different abilities; some women's include the ability to endure, or *gasp*, enjoy pregnancy.  I'm just really glad that this can't last much longer, like days, well my doctor will tell me how long if I make it to Tuesday, which I'm sure I will.

With Emma I was sure I would have to be induced, mostly because my sister and one of my close friends had had to, and they were the most recent pregnancies I had witnessed.  She came a week early, which took me by surprise.  So of course I assumed this one would come as early, or earlier, than she did.  Nope.  I'm very nervous about having to be induced, I still hold out a tiny bit of hope it will happen on its own (and no, there's no way the due date could be more than a day or two off).

I've tried basically every natural induction method out there that one can find via Dr. Google.  Obviously none of them have worked.  At this point I highly doubt any of them work and that any success is solely coincidental.  I seriously want this kid out and I feel very helpless and powerless in making that happen.  I'm not the type of person who is all crunchy and anti medical intervention.  If I have a headache I will take whatever I can to get rid of it.  If I get sick, I go to the doctor.  I trust (for the most part) the medical community.  They are people, they make mistakes, they have bad days and make bad decisions just like the rest of us.  I am not the type to focus on the side effects or possible bad outcomes of things...usually.  But this induction thing has got me nervous.  I know many people who've had them, had no complications, had no problems.  Well, ya, I've watch The Business of Being Born a few too many times (even though I've never seriously considered a natural birth).  I really really really don't want Pitocin.  If they give me that I want the epidural first.  I remember the pain, the horrid awful pain, of natural contractions, and apparently Pitocin makes contractions worse.  I don't know if I can handle it.  I do not have much of a pain tolerance whatsoever.  I am scared of the pain.  I know those who have natural labors will tell you that it's "pain with a purpose" and you can't fight the pain you have to work with it, blah blah blah,  F THAT.  It freaking hurts, I don't give a crap what the purpose is.  I know women have been doing this without pain meds for billions of years, ya and now they have pain meds, so for ME, why should I suffer through pain IF I have the option of not, thank you very much.  Kind of got off on a tangent there.

Anyway, the moral of the story is, I'm huge and tired and want this large child OUT.  If you are reading this, say a prayer, or do a voodoo dance, or sacrifice a grasshopper, or send labor vibes, or positive thoughts, or whatever floats your boat, my way!

I just need to complain

I'm *almost* 33 weeks, as in WOW it's almost here.  I'm so excited and nervous, but most of all I'm miserable, so I'm going to complain.  And I'm going to complain a lot, because it's my blog and I can write whatever I want! :P

I'm so irritable, beyond anything.  It's soooooo hard to be patient with a toddler when you're irritable.  Sometimes it seems like she pushes my buttons on purpose, who knows maybe she does, although I'm sure it's more a combination of my irritability and her toddler-hood.  I hate when I look forward to her nap and bedtimes, it makes me feel like a terrible person and a shitty mother.  I really took my last pregnancy for granted, I wasn't working, and had no other children to take care of, now I do both.  I had it very easy and I didn't even realize it.  I spent my days nesting and napping, wow I kind of hate that person now for being a spoiled brat!  I have so much more to do now, and it takes me ten times longer to do it.

Everything hurts.  My feet hurt and are swollen (along with my ankles).  My knees and hips ache.  My lower abdomen hurts if I stand for too long; between the pulling of the weight of the baby and just the sheer weight of my fat stomach as a whole, and lifting a 30 pound kid dozens of times a day, it feels like it is just going to rip open.  My breasts hurt, shooting pains, why why why?  My back is a mess, more-so my tailbone and lower back.  My shoulders and neck are in knots.

I have the skin of a 14 year old.  That pregnancy glow?  That's oil pouring from my face like lava from a volcano.  And that isn't limited to my face either.  I avoid mirrors at all cost.  Seriously, the least of my worries is how fat I look, at this point I don't even care, there's nothing I can do about it anyway.

The moving and the kicking feels like an alien attempting to escape my body by any means necessary, oh if only it WERE that easy.  And my favorite are kicks to the bladder with such a force that I probably should just wear diapers. 

I waddle everywhere.  It takes several attempts to get out of bed the 3 times a night I have to pee.  I can't bend over, I will spend 3 minutes trying to pick something up with my toes rather than bend over to pick it up.  Hopefully it won't get too cold here, because I doubt I could tie my shoes, so flip flops it is!

Pregnancy brain is real.  Sometimes it scares me.  I forget really simple things.  I've been on the wrong road and not known it until I get lost, like on my way home from the doctor, which I've been to and from about 100 times.

Sleep?  Well it would seem like an easy task since I'm exhausted ALL day no matter how much sleep I do get.  But no, no it isn't easy.  I have to sleep propped up, because no matter what I eat or when I eat I get heartburn and reflux while I'm sleeping, which wakes me up.  I have awoken to choking on the acid that goes up my throat, that's fun!  I can't sleep on one side for too long because the pressure on my hip wakes me.  Of course I can't sleep on my stomach, and sleeping on my back isn't comfortable or good for me or the baby.  I wish I had a hammock!  That seems like it would be amazing to sleep in.

EVERYTHING seems like such an effort.  I truly weigh my options before I get up; how thirsty am I really, is it really worth getting up and walking over the the kitchen?

Oh and I am sweaty all the time, so gross.

We always planned on just 2 kids, which is good, because there's no way in hell I'm doing this again.   Some women love being pregnant, or are good at it, right now I hate those women.

Ok I'm done.

The Ramblings of a Woman in her Third Trimester

I have officially entered the final third of my pregnancy.  This pregnancy has gone by much faster than Emma's did.  I am much busier though, that's for sure.  When I was pregnant with Emma I was somewhat forced to leave my job when I was about 12 weeks along.  I was finishing my Bachelors degree at the time, but was done in December (Em was born in May), so I had months and months and MONTHS of just the pregnancy to think about.  I vividly remember it seeming to take an eternity.  There's probably something about that first pregnancy that tends to make a girl very anxious to hold that baby and prepare every little thing.  I'm sure when I get closer to the end I will be anxious, but as of right now I just feel like he can stay in there quite a while longer!  Between chasing after an almost 2 1/2 year old, working (although it is very part time), and attempting (halfheartedly, I will admit) to keep house and prepare for this baby, I feel like the weeks slip by!  By the third trimester with Emma her room was completely done.  It was painted a very specific shade of lilac, the walls were decorated with things I painstakingly picked out, made myself or special ordered, all the furniture was put together, I think I even had my hospital bag packed.  Right now my little boy's room is only half clean, I haven't picked out the paint color yet, while I have all of the furniture none of it is put together.  Emma didn't sleep in her room, except for the occasional nap, until she was 6 months old, so the room isn't really my top priority I guess.

One thing I have learned is things that are needed and not needed.  If nothing else got done, we would still be ready for him, what do you really need but just diapers anyway.  I frequent a baby/pregnancy website and read the forums a lot.  There are often questions and discussions about what one needs for baby.  I've found that this is a very personal thing.  There are items that some moms swear by that others think are ridiculous, there are very few things people can agree on.  Some things people told me I just "had to have" I never used, and some things I was told not to bother with, I wanted so I got it anyway and used it all the time.

When I began this blog, I had a point I wanted to get to, but I can no longer remember what it was, so I guess I will continue to ramble.

So there are 2 things I want to do with this baby that I didn't do with Emma.  The first is exclusively breastfeed for longer than I did with her.  I made it 3 weeks with Emma, and that was with pumping and supplementing with formula.  I only made it 3 days exclusively breastfeeding, basically until my milk came in.  Pumping was miserable, I will not do that again at all, hated it!  I am scared I will give up again and have to deal with that awful awful guilt.  And now I can't remember the 2nd thing, nice.

This part of pregnancy gets more miserable by the day.  I don't enjoy being pregnant at all.  Sure there are parts that are cool, feeling the baby moving and, uh, ok that's the only one I can think of.  At this point water gives me heartburn.  I wake up several times a night to pee, even if I don't drink anything hours before bed.  I have a hard time getting up off the floor, or the couch for that matter.  I have the skin of a 13 year old going through puberty.  I can't remember things, like basic words, or why I went into the kitchen.  My nose has been stuffy since April.  My back hurts all the time, and my 30 pound toddler insists on being held and I won't say no 90% of the time.

In short, my brain is very low functioning at this point, as I'm sure you can tell from reading this post.