The Years Are Short

Where is the time going?

This morning, I spent a little time just observing what is different here while I (finally) ate some breakfast and drank my coffee.

Rin can now go potty all by herself (and only needs help with the wiping after poo).

Amelia is crawling.
And sitting up by herself.
And trying her best to climb up to a standing position.
And starting to try eating baby food.

Didn't I just birth them?

Wasn't Rin just learning how to say various words instead of speaking in complete, if not exactly grammatically sound, sentences?
Wasn't I just fretting over how long potty training would take?
Wasn't I just having to trim the back of her hair to keep her from having a mullet?

Now, she's starting to sound like her father and I.
She tries to negotiate what foods she wants to eat.
She tries to "work" like we do on the computer.
She "drinks tea and coffee" like Mommy (she does NOT actually drink tea or coffee).
She wants to clean and cook and take care of her babies.

Didn't I just find out I was healed up from giving birth?
Wasn't I just crying in the middle of the night because I just wanted to get some sleep when Amelia was awake?
Wasn't she just incapable of holding her own head up?

Some days, I want time to slow down.
Let me hold my babies a little longer, give them just a few more snuggles.
Let me hug them and kiss away their boo-boos.
Let me sit them in my lap and comb and brush their hair.
Let me hold them on my chest while they sleep.

This is not all the time. In the big picture, I want them to be fully capable humans that can wipe their own butts and get their own food and groom their own bodies. I want to have fully understandable conversations with them about all the serious and fun things of life.

But sometimes, I just want things to slow down so I can hold my babies for just a little while longer.

Post Baby Beauty

Oh man, you guys. This topic is weighing heavily on my heart. I need to preface this by saying: I am NOT fishing for compliments or self-esteem boosters. I am simply sharing what has been on my mind.

I think back to my body before I had my babies:
I had energy.
I had life.
I didn’t look tired all the time.
My hair was manageable and either cut in a fun way or a feminine way, but almost always felt cute.
I wore natural makeup, or no makeup at all.
My face struggled with acne, but was manageable.
My tummy had a little extra layer of fluff, but I was healthy and in shape.
My clothes fit nicely for the most part.
I smiled a lot....
....My boobs were perky, y’all.

Fast forward to now.
I almost never have energy, and while I get more sleep than I generally did pre-babies, I am still exhausted.
I don’t know if I still have life shining from my eyes or, if I do, if it can be seen past the smudged glasses and the dark circles.
My hair is falling out and lays flat on my scalp. It looks neither fun nor feminine. The cut reminds me of a 90s grunge dude. That’s part of the reason it’s always pulled into a messy pony tail or bun (the other reason is to keep it out of my face or keep my kids from yanking on it).
I don’t have time or energy to put on makeup. The makeup I have is old and I don’t think it looks good on me.
My face will clear up for a week, then breakout like a teenager’s with painful bumps.
My tummy is nowhere near flat and I have more fluff than I’d like. It’s hard to sit and stand up straight because my core muscles are shot. I have stretch marks covering me from just above the belly button down and wrapping around my hips.
Most of my clothes look a little awkward on me. Either they fit in the boobs and show off my extra fluff or they look frumpy.
I probably look angry or upset a lot (I don’t mean to...)
And I have grandma boobs. (Andrew assures me that they’re mom boobs. But when you have to wear nursing bras, which have NO support, it’s hard to feel good about your boobs. Sagging boobs look like grandma boobs to me.)

Based on beauty standards of today, I am unattractive. This is kind of a hard pill to swallow. Like, if I’m out and about without my kids, would someone look at me and just see “mom”?

WHAT’S SO UGLY ABOUT BEING A MOTHER?!

Seriously. Let’s look at all the things I see about my body in a different light:

I’m carrying a baby and chasing a toddler around all day. Of course I’m exhausted. Of course I feel unfulfilled in certain areas. But I gave these kids life and I can either let them drain me of it or I can try to let them remind me of my own youth.

There is bound to be some sort of life behind these tired eyes. When in Wal-Mart, I look around and I see Bergens (go watch Trolls if you don’t understand that). And I refuse to be a Bergen.

Yeah, my hair looks like crap. But at least I have hair. And my oldest enjoys playing with it, while the youngest enjoys getting her fingers tangled in it and pulling it.

So my makeup is old and doesn’t look great? I have a husband who has always told me I look better without makeup. Getting comfortable in my own skin should include getting comfortable with my own face. Besides, makeup breaks my face out.

My face has flare ups? For the first time in my life, my face actually clears up!

My tummy isn’t flat. I carried two babies to term, one of which was a battle to carry that long. Those muscles took 18 months of organ rearranging and stretching to accommodate a human being. I’m not even 6 months postpartum. And it isn’t like women get physical therapy to regain core strength after pregnancy (though, honestly, maybe that should be routine medical care.....)

As for stretch marks, they’re my battle scars. I’ve always thought scars add to the story of who someone is.

My clothes don’t fit the best in the world. But my body has been rapidly changing over the last 4 years, so that’s okay. Sometimes, I just need to wear baggy shirts, anyways.

I look upset a lot. It's usually due to frustration or concern for my child's safety. Or it's because people in public are generally terrible (seriously, is it THAT difficult to be aware and/or courteous?!) BUT I also smile and laugh a lot. And make really stupid faces (ask my daughter or my husband). And dance in the car like a dork.

As for my boobs, I'm proud of them. They nursed my first child for a year. I'm six months into nursing my second child. I can't justify $75 for a supportive nursing bra. So my boobs are just gonna have to look like grandma boobs while also being amazing at keeping a human being alive and healthily fed.

ALL OF THIS to say....I really want to say "Screw you, societal beauty standards!"

I can't, though. While I intellectually know that my body is beautiful in it's strength, I do miss feeling youthfully beautiful. I miss feeling feminine. I miss feeling comfortable in my own skin.

My biggest help with getting through this? My husband still finds me attractive and reminds me often that this is just a phase of life. My toddler still grabs my head and kisses my cheeks and wants snuggles. My baby looks at me like I am the most wonderful and beautiful person in the entire world.

I will never look like I did before I had children. I don't want to. I just look forward to being comfortable in my own skin again (and maybe being a little less fluffy).

Case of the Mondays

Let’s talk Mondays.

Mondays tend to be my hardest day of the week, and I know many people who can understand this sentiment. Most of these people work Monday-Friday jobs, which can be hard to go back to after a weekend.

Being a stay-at-home mom, I don’t have a paying job to drag myself back to. So why is this day so hard for me?

The simple answer? Because my husband goes back to work.

No, seriously. I’ve come to the conclusion that it messes with my kids. For a while I thought it was something I was doing (like, am I just a terrible mom?!), until I realized that the problems we have are almost ONLY, and ALWAYS, on Mondays.

So what is it that makes Mondays so rough?

The top thing that happens is that my kids refuse to cooperate with naps.

Normally, Amelia will nap around 9 or 9:30 for about an hour (maybe longer). On Mondays, I’m lucky if I can get her to go to sleep around 10. And if she sleeps more than 30 minutes, it’s a miracle.

This lack of a good morning naps makes her CRANKY. Because she’s cranky, I can barely put her down without her screaming like the entire world is ending. And I don’t mean she’s crying because babies cry. I mean SCREAMING to the point where it sounds like she’s gonna lose her voice (because that ‘s what would happen if an adult did that). So I’m constantly trying to keep her somewhat comforted.

(Just so y’all know, teething makes this 1000 times worse)

While I’m in the midst of that, I inevitably forget to make Rin go to the potty. And even if I do remember, she fights me tooth and nail on it, so a 1 minute activity takes at least 5 minutes to complete (all while she and her sister scream bloody murder). So there’s almost always a pee cleanup on Mondays. The rest of the week, using the potty is no big.

At least today, while I was trying to put Amelia down for a nap again, she had her accident in the bathroom when she was trying to get her pants down to use the potty...

And then there’s the fun of keeping Rin in an approved location while I feed her sister.

You see, on the weekends, she has almost free reign of the apartment, even when I’m feeding Amelia, because her daddy is here to keep her out of trouble. Not so during the week.

So I almost always fight with her on Mondays to keep her in her room while her sister eats so that A) Amelia doesn’t get distracted and B) she doesn’t get into something that she isn’t supposed to.

And then, of course, is the breaking of the rules. Because apparently, that girl forgets that this momma enforces the rules since daddy enforces them on the weekends (which gives me a breather).

It doesn’t help that Mondays are hard for me too. Because I, too, get used to Andrew being here over the weekend helping and miss him when he isn’t here. And I always manage to not get enough rest or not get coffee in the morning because I woke up late. I get cranky.

I get a case of the Mondays.

So, again, I’ve come to the conclusion that Mondays are rough because Andrew is at work. They get used to him enforcing the rules, and get used to not having to be cooped up in a room.

And we just plain miss him.

But, this too shall pass. Andrew will be home in the afternoon. The kids will sleep tonight, after hugs and kisses and snuggles. We will have our fun moments that will make me forget about the times I want to pull my hair out.

I just have to remember to breathe through the all the “Mondays” in life.

Don't be Discouraged

Hey you guys. I’m not going to lie. I could be doing any number of things right now since both my kiddos are miraculously down for naps at the same time for the first time in......I don’t even remember how long it’s been. I could be unloading the dishwasher, or cleaning out Rin’s nasty bath toys, or even catching a few z’s myself.

But I feel the need to get real.

I have struggled this week. I have felt like a failure of a mother.

I got mad at Amelia because she wouldn’t cooperate with eating or sleeping.

I got stressed out and frustrated that Amelia wouldn’t stop screaming in my face for no reason.

I got annoyed with Rin when she kept playing with things she wasn’t supposed to.

I got angry when she continually refused to answer a simple yes or no question (Do you need to pee?).

I failed to do anything educational with Rin, including reading her books (I’ve got some kind of sinus crud trying to happen and my voice has been in and out since Tuesday).

I let Rin watch WAY too many movies. Which means Amelia watched too.

We didn’t go play outside all week.

I failed to give my child vegetables most of the week.

I actually ended up asking my mother at one point “When do you stop almost constantly feeling like a crappy* mom?” *Edited for the lesser of “cuss words” in the US.

Her answer?

“I don’t know, there are days when I still feel that way”

And she’s been a mother for 32 years, y’all.

It’s moments like these that it is easy to get discouraged. Especially when it’s the kind of week where you think “I’m going to be better this week!” And then come down with the sinus crud and have to stay indoors and quiet. When I want desperately to be an excellent mother and wife and also work on my own faith.

But then I hear words like

“It’ll get easier!”
“Don’t be discouraged.”
“Be free.”
“You’re in a difficult season of life. Little folk need you to do things for them or they die.”

And I remember to take a deep breath and change perspectives. Change what I have control over and let go of what I don’t. And to remember that my children are just that: children. They view the world with excitement, curiousity, and just a little bit of fear. But they know that Mom is right there to run to if they need me. It’s sobering.

So I determined to make the most of the rest of my week.

I cleaned the bathrooms (hallelujah! The kids’ bathroom smelled like pee because hello potty training misses).

I tried my best to read a book to Rin and ended up coughing. But then listened to my wonderful husband read a book to her the past few nights when I wasn’t able and remembered that I’m not in this parenting thing alone.

I let Rin be a child and built a fort with/for her, then hung out in the fort while she pretended to cook me food.

I listened to Rin sing over half the ABC’s by herself and realized she’s retaining more than I realize.

Do I still feel terrible about staying inside all week and failing at the meal planning this week and not spending actual time doing learning or art activities and getting made when my kids don’t do exactly what I want when I want?

Absolutely.

But I am remembering to breathe and let loose my grip on life. To enjoy this time of being a child, but to also put my kids down and/or in their rooms and go take a few minutes of a breather when their needs overwhelm my own.

And now, Rin is awake again and informing that she is hungry (we JUST finished lunch less than an hour and a half ago, people. Growth spurt?), so I suppose I'm done for today. Much love to you all.

Toddler Shenanigans and Turning 27

Hello all.

I actually started typing this blog yesterday morning. Then my child decided sneak into my bathroom, strip naked, and attempt to take a bath (exhibit A of toddler shenanigans). Twice. By the time I sat back down, the baby started crying. By the time I sat down AGAIN, I was too annoyed to think clearly enough to write, so I gave up.

So I'm sitting here with a (decaf, unfortunately) chai tea latte while both my children are miraculously-ish asleep. And I'm trying again.

Life has been crazy lately. It's a different crazy from the "oh I have so much to do" life. It's the crazy that can only come of being a stay-at-home wife to a teacher and mother to a toddler and an infant.It's the crazy that makes you want to pull your hair out with frustration and anger, do celebration dances over small victories, and cry because you love your kids with your entire being and are afraid you're doing everything wrong.

But let me tell you about those toddler shenanigans.

We already had exhibit A: toddler stripping down naked. Repeatedly. Girl likes her bath time. I'm just gonna lump another story into exhibit A. One day, I put her in her room (y'all, I can't let her roam the apartment while feeding Amelia...too many temptations!), but failed to put the gate up. By the time I got Amelia down for a nap, this happened:

Yes, I edited the picture because yes, she is butt naked in the baby bath. She had snuck into the bathroom, dragged it into her room, stripped completely down. When I walked in, she informed me that she was washing.

Exhibit B has to deal with why I said "miraculously-ish." Apparently, my child woke up sometime between 3:45 and 4:45 this morning. And didn't go back to sleep. I know this because she wasn't out of her room at 3:45. But when Andrew's alarm went off at 4:45, we saw her go back into her room.

I asked her this morning if she came out of her room. "Yes." "Where did you go?" "Mommy and Daddy room." "What were Mommy and Daddy doing?" "Oh. Sleeping."

Yeah. Okay. That's not creepy at all, kiddo.

Exhibit C of toddler shenanigans has to do with the joy of potty training. You guys, my body is on a schedule. I get up, shower, eat breakfast, feed Amelia, drink coffee on the way to drop Andrew off at work, then generally need to really go to the bathroom by the time I get back home. Before I go, I always take Rin to go potty so we don't have any issues.

Well, twice in about as many weeks, she insisted that she didn't need to potty. Screamed, cried, the whole nine yards. Part of the way through my using the bathroom, she started crying because she needed to poop. The first time this happened, she was gated in her room, and ended up pooping in her diaper. The second time, I was a little proud because she got herself on the potty. But then she GOT UP AND WALKED AROUND before I could come wipe her. Sigh.

Since then, this hasn't happened. Hooray! Because we've been potty training....

There is nothing that compares to potty training. It feels like torture. I feel like a broken record of "Do you need to go potty? We should try to go potty." All. Day. Long.

Exhibit D: One day last week, I told Rin we should try to go potty. She went in the bathroom, went in the linen closet, and peed. WHAT?! (Did I mention that sometimes, I want to pull my hair out?)

However! We have now had two and a half days with no potty accidents.

We had a celebration for starting to get potty training on Saturday night. We treated Miss Thang to a movie night. Amelia went down for the night after supper, we brought out Rin's fuzzy blanket and all the pillows in the apartment, laid on the floor, ate popcorn, and watched The Lion King. I even made her a "movie night coupon" that she earns by continuously using the potty. Woot!

Now, one of the downsides to potty training is you have to actually pay attention to bowel movements. I had been concerned with how long she would go without wanting to poop (including holding it in for fear of it hurting), so I finally took her to the doctor. Her colon was completely full, so she's having to do a cleanse. It's really gross. So this family has also upped it's fibrous food intake....

Which means I made some delicious whole-wheat pumpkin muffins (made with honey instead of sugar) that we all liked!!! Anyways...

And finally, exhibit D: the toddler tries to be like Mommy. She tries to help me clean, she "cooks," she takes care of her "babies," and even tries to wear her baby doll like Mommy wears Amelia:

She is a mess! But. Last but not least. She got a hair cut.

Before: a mess that tangled easily and was always in her eyes

After: I can see her eyes again. And I can comb her hair without a bajillion snags in it:

Well, that's all for the toddler shenanigans portion.

Other than that, I've just been taking care of myself, the apartment, and the baby. I finally hung all the pictures in our apartment. And got on a semi-regular cleaning schedule.

Kicked her socks off in her sleep. She takes after me.

I've gotten back onto doing yoga every day. Since I last spoke about my health journey, I fell off the exercise bandwagon. I finally found a regular time of day to squeeze in some yoga time, so yay! Also since then, Andrew and I have both cut down tremendously on our soda intake. Like, we drink less than one a day. And other than headaches, I believe our health has improved already!

I've also been Andrew's support the best I know how.

Being a teacher is crazy, y'all. I'm not going to say anymore than that. But you guys send him happy thoughts whenever you can!

Lastly in news, I turned 27! Woohoo! I totally did an unhealthy thing and ate WAY too much at my birthday dinner. And ate brownies. Thank you all for the birthday wishes! I hope you're all doing well!

A Healthy Journey

Good morning, all! It's just before 5:30 as I start to write this....yes, I know that's crazy early for me, but I slept a solid seven hours, so it's pointless to go back to sleep. I'm so gonna need a nap later.

We're finally starting to get into the swing of things around here. Which means we're starting to have a little more fun. We haven't been to the park lately, but that's partly because the heat index has been ridiculously high (hello, triple digits). So Andrew and I finally decided to blow up the Minnie Mouse ball pit thing a family member bought Rin for Christmas.

Whoever bought that: while this thing is fun, we had to blow it up manually! In other words, we spent thirty minutes both blowing into the different sections of this thing. Why don't these things come with a pump?!

Seriously, though. If she manages to pull one of the plugs out, Andrew and I have both declared we are NOT blowing it back up.

Rin's hair was immediately pure static upon entry of her new toy.

  As you can see, she was having a blast. She was giggling as I threw balls in at her. She was asking us to crawl in with her.

Andrew took it upon himself to see if he could crawl in it. Then discovered he could do so AND stick his head out the top and limbs out the side. Rin was laughing like crazy (let's face it...I was too).

 And then, as any two year old would do, she tried to do what daddy did. She succeeded in getting her head to poke out the top, but then about collapsed the thing trying to pick it up.

 Amelia, of course, has been content to sleep through all the fun. She's been doing well, as far as we can tell. She's starting to get a little more social. There have definitely been some coos and smiles. So far, she's actually a little more pleasant than Rin was at this age....or maybe we're just more experienced at getting babies to calm down now. Either way, I'm glad.

She doesn't sleep as long as Rin did at that age, but she's still getting some decent hours in on most nights. Which means I get some decent hours in at night. I don't wake up paranoid every thirty minutes like I did at first with Rin either.

A well-rested momma = a happier momma.

I'm also getting some decent hours in because I've been (say whaaaaaat) starting a health journey.

Now, I know I could just say I'm starting to get back into shape and eat better.

But that doesn't quite encompass what's happening.

Yes, getting back into shape and eating better are goals of mine. But I feel that calling it a health journey takes some of the perfectionist pressure off. It allows for the days that exercise just ain't gonna happen. Or the days that I slip and drink more caffeine than I should. Or the days that, dang it, I just need to eat some ice cream!

Because I've discovered that I'm one of those people that gets frustrated the moment I slip up. And then I want to give up because I can't stick with a regimen.

With a journey, there comes a sense of acknowledgement that there will be hick-ups and hard times as well as accomplishments and good times.

Take yesterday for example. Tuesday and Wednesday, I did well by doing the 30 day yoga challenge I started. Tuesday, I went for a walk. Yesterday, I did almost nothing. Instead, I spent my yoga time spending time with my husband. And I spent my walking time nursing a baby who was fighting sleep, taking a bath, and passing out myself.

AND THAT'S OKAY.

It's a process. One day, I'll be able to get my exercising in every day. Without injuring myself.

I must keep in mind that my body is still healing from being stretched beyond recognition for months.

That's why I'm starting with just yoga and walking. Walking because I get out of breath doing that at a brisk pace for a long period of time. And yoga to both ease into some strength training again and because it is a practice that allows graciousness to where I am with my body.

Also because it reminds me to breathe through discomfort (and who doesn't need THAT reminder).

I've also started taking it upon myself to learn more about food and how to eat healthily. I'm starting with a book a friend of mine has recommended often, as I've seen how much healthier she is from following the advice from said book.

There's a fair chance I may make some blog posts about what I learn in this book. It's partly for my own memory, but also because I just want you guys to be able to see my health journey as I go.

My health journey is also going to incorporate some spiritual health into it as well, as I'm reading my Bible, thinking about churches to visit, and starting a book my dad recommended called Boundaries by Dr. Henry Cloud.

My goal in doing all this is essentially a healthier, happier, stronger version of myself.

Let the fun begin!

Greetings From Gastonia

Breathe in. Breathe out. I've had my first night of eight hours of sleep, and a hot cup of coffee! And I can now tell you all about moving with a toddler and newborn.

Y'all, it's stressful.

Long story short, we drove back and forth between Boone and Gastonia a total of 5 or 6 times. It's between an hour and half and two and a half hours, depending on the traffic when going through Gastonia, Lenoir, Hickory, Blowing Rock, and Boone and if we have to make any potty breaks. For the most part, we were able to make it in the lesser amount of time.

Rin was restless from being in the car so much, so she kept getting into everything. She's also at that age when she really really really wanted to help....but her ability to do so was severely diminished quickly as there were a lot of things she had no business picking up (who knew households had so many large or breakable or poisonous to eat things?!).

Amelia did better, as all she really needs is naps, clean diapers, and boobs.

We have now gotten everything we use on a day-to-day basis unpacked and put away. We're still trying to figure out exactly where to put some things.

We're in the process of reteaching Rin her boundaries and rules, as it didn't translate over from the old apartment to here in her brain.

And we're in the process of figuring out where the heck everything is in this city. None of us has ever lived in a city this large. I constantly feel like a country bumpkin, as I was even a little overwhelmed at the sheer size of even the closest Walmart super center.

The other day, I was baby-wearing Amelia in a wrap while we all walked around a park. I've gotten some odd looks wearing her down here so far, but someone actually asked me at the park if I was from Romania...based solely on my wearing my baby! She apparently has a son who serves in Romania and they wear their babies wrapped on their fronts.

Also, my nerdy self went on an adventure the other day to find my closest public library. Lucky for me, it's the main branch and it's super close! I went ahead and got my library card and then just walked around, letting the feel of a library relax me. (As I said, NERD!)

So, while it's been a little stressful, we're finally starting to get the hang of things! We've got one more trip up to Boone this Wednesday for my 6-week postpartum checkup and to turn in the keys to the old apartment, and then any trips to the mountains will be purely for fun!

She Made It!

Whew. You guys. It's been a busy past....how long since I've written? Big things have happened since then. Like, ya know, having another baby.

Yep, most of you already knew this, but Miss Amelia made her appearance into this world 3 weeks ago today (well, once it hits 11:07 pm, it'll be exactly 3 weeks ago).

That day started out as many of my days had been starting out...with contractions. Again. For the bajillionth time. I went to my 39 week doctor's appointment, and one of my midwives asked if I'd like to induce labor since I had been in labor on and off for so long (and I was already dilated to basically 6 cm and almost fully effaced). So, we went for it. She told me I should be ready to be in the hospital by 4 that afternoon, and sure enough, we packed up our stuff and headed in.

We got there around 5 in the evening. My contractions had gone to about 3 minutes apart a few times, and were looking like they were going to peter off yet again when I had to sit still in the hospital bed for monitoring. It wasn't long after I got up and moving again that they picked back up.

I stayed on a birthing ball for about 3 hours, bouncing and breathing through contractions. The midwife on call checked to see how labor was progressing and I was already at over 9 cm! She asked what I wanted to do for pain management, since things were getting a little more intense.

And y'all, my decidedly non-brilliant self decided I wanted to try using hot water. The midwife warned me that that could speed up labor, but if I was up for it, that was fine. Suuuure I thought. I've made it this far. Surely it can't get too much worse. After all, I'm almost fully dilated.

Enter the puking stage. (Okay, okay, I only puked once. But it was terrible.) I got in the tub, and it helped the pain for the first maybe 3 contractions. Then I started cussing (again, sorry Mom). I vaguely remember wishing Andrew was over by the tub with me, but he was keeping my dad company for a little while, and I didn't know what he could do to help anyways. Mom was awesome and stood up for him when the midwife and nurse made a comment about having "man conversations" or some sort. I don't actually remember what was said, but I remember at least thinking "he doesn't know what to do to help me, and I don't know what to tell him I need."

Anyways, at some point, the pressure moved from feeling like I was going to pee myself to feeling more like I might have to start pushing soon. So out of the tub we got.

I couldn't walk.

I hugged the nurse, buck naked and all, and shuffled to the bed. And in my head, I started singing "Hey, I just met you. And this is crazy. But I'm all naked. Hug my anyways." If you don't know what song this refers to, this video's for you:

Now, the next bit was a blur. What I remember:

My dad left the room, as he was getting rather uncomfortable (can't blame him as I was making all sorts of ungodly sounds).

My mom asked if I wanted her to leave. I didn't.

My husband came over and started helping me by holding my hand (I think I twisted his arm into some awful positions....sorry!) and getting my water and keeping a cool cloth on me.

I was checked multiple times. And it was pissing me off, cause I was in enough pain without someone's hand up in me.

They brought in a birthing bar (which is a bar they attach to the hospital bed to help you while you try a squatting position) and made me squat and try to rock my hips back and forth. Because apparently, I was fully dilated except for the very very end of my cervix, which had just enough left to it that the baby's head was stuck.

I cried that I couldn't do it multiple times.

Andrew and my mom kept replying that I really really could do it.

I desperately wanted an epidural. I had been wanting one, but thought I was too far along to ask, so I hadn't asked. I should've just freakin asked.

Andrew needed to either go get the cloth cool again or go to my other side, and I was suddenly terrified he was going to leave. And I was so relieved when he was by my side again.

They lost the baby's heartbeat. So they had to bring in that probe thing to try to find it.

The baby's heart rate had dropped to 60 beats per minute. I knew that was really really bad.

Then I heard the midwife say we needed to get the doctor in there. And knew things were really bad.

I got to the point that I physically couldn't catch my breath, so they gave me the oxygen mask.

Someone, at some point, told me that just like I was getting tired and starting to not be able to labor well, the baby was also getting tired and not handling things well.

The doctor came in, and I swear, all I remember is they told me I needed to push and my baby needed me to push NOW. The doctor (I think) told me I NEEDED to push for my baby.

Some part of my brain kicked in to tell me to start pushing because I knew that if I didn't, I'd have to have an emergency cesarean in the best case scenario and worst case....well, I didn't even want to think about that.

I had at least 4 people yelling at me to push (and not, like, in a condescending way, but in an encouraging "you have to do this" kind of way). People were holding my legs up, and someone kept saying to push with my abs, not with my legs.

I yelled a lot. And screamed. The nurse to my right kept trying to tell me to use the energy coming from my mouth to push instead. I succeeded in that only part of the time.

I remember not realizing the head had come out until I felt a strange sensation that I somehow knew was the rest of the body coming out.

I remember being scared because I didn't hear crying yet, and a very distinct wave of relief when she started wailing.

And then I remember being mad because no one would hand me my baby yet. The rational part of my brain knew they had to made sure she was okay (I forgot that they to, ya know, make sure I was stable too). But the emotional part of me just kept thinking that someone needed to hand me my baby and let me hold her. They did, but it felt like it took forever.

Afterwards, my husband informed me that I kick like a mule and they had a hard time keeping my legs braced. And that it seemed like they were literally folding me into a pretzel.

The midwife let me know that they had to use a vacuum to assist the delivery. And that I was basically a unicorn. Because not only did I have a vacuum assisted delivery with no pain medication (which virtually never happens), on top of pushing nonstop (it was only for maybe 5 minutes, but I mean nonstop....like they didn't even give me time to catch my breath because it was so urgent)....I also had absolutely no tearing. Which is unheard of in a delivery like that.

Booyah.

Now, I have to admit that part of the reason I'm just now writing this blog is the fact that I'm just now able to recall all of this without feeling like I'm going to have a major panic attack.

Yes, the experience was that terrifying.

Yes, my body is having a hard time recuperating in some ways (ever heard of uterine prolapse? I hadn't until my 2-week postpartum checkup, where I learned that that's what I was experiencing. Look it up or ask me if you really wanna know).

No, I never want to experience un-medicated childbirth ever again.

But y'all. I have a beautiful baby girl to show for it.

And I still feel like a total badass.

Happy Mother's Day!

The day I became a mother (2015)

Ah, motherhood. It leaves you exhausted and emotionally drained so many days (or is that just toddlers?). Some days, I wonder if it's all worth it. I wonder why the heck I ever thought this was a good idea.

And then I have days like how this morning has been (how appropriate, since it IS Mother's Day).

I actually get a halfway decent night of sleep (hello, 4 hour stretch followed by a 3 hour stretch, with no nightmares).

Andrew makes a simple breakfast for Rin after getting her up and dressed. While I take my time waking up by myself.

I drink a nice hot cup of tea and eat my favorite easy breakfast of my childhood (hello, peanut butter toast).

And I proceed to spend the morning in my pajama's, snuggling with Rin off and on while I play games and just be generally relaxed and a little lazy.

On top of that, Rin is actually cooperating with going to the potty.

Miracles do happen.

And days like these remind me how fun and lovely motherhood can be.

I remember spending lazy Saturday and Sunday mornings with my mom, staying in my pajamas until noon. It may not have happened often, but it did happen.

So here's to you moms out there, working your butts off to do what needs to be done.

Here's to my own mom, who helped mold me into the person I am today. Who did her best to teach me time management. Who taught me how to make the house at least appear clean when company was coming over. Who (thankfully) taught me how to do laundry early on.

My mom, who encouraged me through everything I faced to stay strong. Who reminded me that I could do anything.

My mom, whom I fought with, laughed with, cried on, danced and sang in public with. Who I shared hot fries or popcorn and Cheerwine with on school day afternoons.

My mom, who has become one of the best friends I could ask for. Whose love and concern for me I can feel radiating all the way from South Africa on a daily basis.

I love you and I miss you. And I am so grateful for your love (and for not selling me on whatever the equivalent of eBay was before the internet). Happy Mother's Day.

And Happy Mother's Day to all the other special moms in my life.

Mom and I being crazy, as per usual (2013)

The More Intense Scare

As many of you know, I went to the hospital early last week for some preterm labor symptoms. Many of you also are aware that I went back later in the week, and that my experience that time was WAY more involved, and a little bit terrifying. As a head's up, I probably do not remember everything that happened. And I'm still exhausted, as I probably will be for the remainder of this pregnancy, so I sincerely apologize if anything I say here isn't the most coherent.

So here's the nitty gritty:

Thursday morning, I started having contractions again. And they were worse than the ones on Monday. Not exactly painful, except a lot of cramping in my lower back, but they were definitely there. I chugged a bottle of water and laid down for close to an hour, which is what they tell you to do to make sure they aren't Braxton Hicks contractions, and it didn't help. So, I called the hospital and they told me to come in.

At this point, it was close to lunchtime so I knew I should go ahead and feed Rin, as well as myself. I also needed to pack at least enough to entertain Rin through the evening, as well as get her pack and play in the car so she could attempt to nap in the hospital for the first little while.

Trying to get ready, of course, was a nightmare. Between phone calls and text messages and trying to focus enough to get what I needed, I ended up stressing way more than necessary. So, I've decided that by the time I go into labor next, I'm going to have a system in place of who's telling who. And a rule of "I'll tell you what I can when I can. Don't ask questions!" (For those of you who know how I am when I'm stressed or busy, this shouldn't come as a surprise.)

Anyways, I got to the hospital. By the time I got Rin set up and myself changed into one of the gowns, my blood pressure was apparently quite high. The nurse decided to assume that was because I was obviously stressed, which I definitely appreciated. Fast forward some hours. Mama and Papa Catanese came to watch Rin until we knew better what was going to happen. Andrew got there when he could. I ended up having to have my cervix checked to find out I had gone from the 1-2 cm on Monday to 3 cm that afternoon. Since I was still having regular contractions, guess what that meant?!

I got shipped off to Winston Salem. Why? Watauga Medical Center does not have a NICU. Which is definitely understandable considering how relatively small a population it serves. Winston is the closest one.

So I had to be hooked up to an IV for starters. The first two times I was stuck, they hit a valve. By the third try, I was about to pass out/throw up. They thought it was anxiety.....it was just pain. I hate being stuck with a needle more than necessary and I absolutely loathe IV needles. They also drew blood to test my liver for any other signs that something was wrong since my blood pressure was high. I also got two shots. One in the back of my right arm (I think that was for starting to try and stop contractions), one in the muscle of my left arm (the first of two steroid shots to help Amelia's lungs develop quicker in case she made her appearance early). And they did the group B strep test.

The first 2 IV attempts. I look like someone wrapped their hand around it and squeezed still.

That's definitely bruised.

I got lots and lots of fluids going in the IV, as well as antibiotics. The liver screen came back clean, and I just got the news yesterday that my group B strep test came back negative as well. Mama and Papa took Rin with them and got some things to keep her for a few days for us. I cried like a baby when they left (and then had to explain to the nurses that I was only crying because this was the first time Rin's been away from both Andrew and I overnight). Andrew arranged a ride with a friend of ours (thanks again, Ryan!) since he wasn't allowed to ride in the ambulance.

I got strapped into the gurney and taken down to the ambulance. The EMT workers were fantastic and one of my nurses rode in the back with me as well. By the time we got to Winston, though, my ribs and hips ached from having to lay flat. The EMT guy wanted to steal my super colorful owl bag....and then later my super colorful tennis shoes haha.

I honestly don't remember much about the rest of that night. I know I saw a ton of different people. They did an ultrasound after they got me into my room to see Amelia's position, which at the time, was transverse. So they had someone talk to me about C-sections. It was all fine and dandy information to have, but it's safe to say it freaked me out a bit in the long run. Plus, someone came in and took a vial of blood again (and did an awful job....I've never had blood being drawn hurt anywhere near that bad).

Saturday night. The one on the left is from the one blood draw that hurt. The one on the right is from the other 3.

This is from Monday morning. They still look really rough.

Friday, I had the most amazing nurse. I remember telling her that I assumed I wouldn't be able to get a shower, but asking if I could freshen up a little by washing my face and brushing my teeth. That was fine.

That morning was a lot of waiting, being monitored, and meeting different doctors. I got to talk to the NICU doctor, which was actually very comforting.

At some point, it got quiet enough for us to try to get some sleep. Of course, that's when all my emotions crashed down on me and I couldn't stop crying for a bit. I'd finally started calming down when a guy came in and said "Hey! I heard you were asking about taking a shower?!" in the happiest voice ever. Which immediately got my hopes up. He then proceeded to say, "Sorry, but you can't," and left. Enter a continuance of the emotional breakdown, only worse. Andrew was furious. I wish I had gotten that guy's name, because I would be calling to complain about how rude and incredibly disheartening that was.

Anyways, fast forward some. The contractions had finally slowed and become fairly irregular. I was checked again, and still hanging out at 3-3.5 cm. They decided to wheel me down to get another ultrasound, partially to check on Amelia's position, and partially to check on her development. Which meant I got to be unhooked from the IV pole and monitors for a while!

Amelia was head down in the ultrasound, developing well (already 4 lbs, 11 oz), and we got to see that she has a ton of hair. Heading back up to the room afterwards, my nurse (I'm telling you guys, she was awesome) asked me in a lowered voice if I'd still like to take a quick shower because she'd let me do that before hooking me back up to everything.

That shower felt amazing. And it made me feel human. And I'm still so grateful.

By the end of her shift (7 pm), she let me know that she was trying her best to convince the doctors to let me eat something solid. And that, as far as she was aware, they'd be coming in to give me the second steroid shot, then potentially moving me to the antepartum ward since my contractions were almost gone. If that was the case, I'd finally get to eat real food.

Sure enough, I got the second steroid shot (in the thigh this time...which is still sore), was unhooked from the IV pole, and transferred. CJ and Mama Catanese had brought Rin to visit, which made my heart soar, as well as some food, which made my tummy quite happy.

After they left, I got a little more food from the nurse's station and another shower to pass the hour I had before I knew someone would come in to check Amelia's heartbeat and give me my contraction medication. After they did that, I FINALLY got a solid chunk of sleep.

Saturday morning rolled around, and our biggest question was "When do we get to go home?" It took until 12:30/1 to get our answer. From the way the doctors and nurses were talking, it seemed I was going to have to stay another 24 hours at least for observation. Imagine our pleasant surprise when, after they checked to make sure I was still at 3.5 cm, they said we could go home! And that we didn't have to rush. We could shower, pack up, take a breather. We had the room for the rest of the day.

As you can probably imagine, we didn't take that long. I ate my lunch, was monitored one more time to make sure Amelia was happy and that I was indeed done having contractions, then we called my grandparents to come get us and take us home. I showered again while waiting (hospitals may be super clean, but they make me feel super gross), then we loaded up and headed back to Boone.

Overall, I'm glad to be still pregnant. However, I believe I had a needle poked in me 10 times in less than 36 hours (3 shots, 3 IV attempts, 4 blood draws), my cervix checked 4 times in 48 hours, and was on a liquid only diet for a little over 24 hours. I'm glad it's over. I'm tired of being touched by strangers.

The night we got home, we had a delicious dinner thanks to my grandparents (they took me to get food I had been craving). Andrew and I then spent the evening eating ice cream while watching Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them before passing out in our own bed.

Sunday morning, we went ahead and did laundry and (slowly, on my part) went grocery shopping. Miss Rin came home that afternoon and we were so happy to see her!

So, there you go! I probably missed some details, but that's the basic gist of our long and tiring, scary weekend. Thank you all for the well wishes and the prayers. It meant a lot to know we were on the minds of so many. As I said before, I'm still exhausted and trying to squeeze in as many cat naps as necessary so I can be as physically ready for Amelia to start her arrival process again.

And now, I'm going to go nap.

The Scare

Alrighty guys.

This is gonna be a fairly quick update.

The other night, I started feeling a bit nauseated. So I went to bed, thinking that I would feel better after some sleep, like I normally do. Well, I had to get up to go to the bathroom 4 times that night, as opposed to my usual one. Woke up yesterday morning still feeling nauseous, but with lower back aches added in (think "I've got to poop really bad" feeling, but without the poop). Before lunch, I started having what felt like PMS cramps.

I laid down after lunch, hoping these would go away with some rest. They did not. They got worse as the day went on and I ended up feeling contractions as well.

Soooo off to the hospital I went after we put Rin to bed last night.

They put the monitor on me to track my contractions. Sure enough, I was having one 30-45 seconds long every 3-4 minutes.

They tested my pee. It came back "crystal clear." (Doctor's words)

They checked to make sure I wasn't leaking any amniotic fluid. I wasn't.

So they checked to see if the contractions were causing any dilation.....

Uh-oh. Y'all, I apparently am dilated to between 1 and 2 centimeters. (In case you didn't know, they really don't like seeing ANY dilation at 33 weeks).

So they ran this cool test that I didn't even know existed. It's called a Fetal Fibronectin Test. Apparently, fetal fibronectin is a substance the body releases when labor is eminent (like, gonna happen in the next week or two). If the test comes back negative, it's 99.9% accurate.

Mine came back negative. Woohoo!!!

Which means, they're gonna keep an eye on things. And I'm to keep an eye on things and go get checked again if anything changes for the labor-y side of things. But I got to go home (at midnight...so I'm a lotta bit sleepy and looking forward to nap time today).

However, I am now under orders to drink lots and lots of water, to stay off of my feet as much as possible, and to lay on my left side when I can. My activities haven't necessarily been restricted, so I'm not exactly on bed rest.

So that's my fun little story. Here's to hoping and believing this baby is gonna stay corked up for at least another 3 weeks!

Learning to Breathe Again

Hello all! I'm back!

First off, you should all know that I'm still in the detox process (if you don't know what I mean, go back and read my last blog). And there's more that I've done or tried to do to help with the emotional side of it.

First off, I got a bunch of my remaining prenatal checkups (we're down to only 6 left now...8 weeks of pregnancy, give or take a bit!) switched around so I could see the midwife who delivered Rin a lot more. Which is awesome because it meant seeing someone I am comfortable voicing my concern over the emotional instability to. And saying in too many words that I felt like I needed help.

After listening to me about that approximately two weeks ago, she suggested I try an antidepressant/antianxiety medication. 

So I did. And it was awful. 

Now, I'm not here to bash these medications because I know that they can be very beneficial to people who need them.

But my experience? The first day, I took the full dose in the morning. And proceeded to puke my poor guts up. All. Day. Long. The funny part? I was feeling so mellow that I couldn't bring myself to CARE that I was so sick. I mean, I acknowledged that it was sucky, but just didn't care. 

I also noticed my jaw muscles trembling a lot. And I was crazy tired. So my midwife suggested I try to take it at night instead, and my dad suggested I only take half.

We were planning to visit home over spring break. Not wanting to risk being miserable, I decided not to take any medication until I got back. 

Yes, I had some rough moments while I was down, but they usually passed quickly, and I stopped having them for the remainder of the trip.

We got to enjoy the wonderful company and help of my best friend, CJ, and her mom, Mama Catanese (Nonni for Rin so she has a name to call her).

We got to see my brother and sister-in-law and my three silly nephews. The boys seemed ready and willing to play with Rin. And I got the chance to open up to my sister-in-law, who listened without judgement and gave me a book that helped her through these kinds of times (more on that in a bit).

And we got to see Andrew's family, minus his sister-in-law, who had to take the super puppy to training class, which is always a treat (even if I'm almost always exhausted by the time we get to visit).

By the time we got back to Boone, I was MUCH calmer. But I gave the medication one more try....

And it was worse. Threw up some more, dry mouth, the shakes, insomnia..... I decided not to take anymore. To me, those side effects, even if they DO go away eventually, are just not worth it.

I texted a friend of mine who does essential oils (actually, she does a lot more...go check her awesome blog) to see what would be pregnancy safe and beneficial for all that's going on. I already have one oil she suggested (lavender for its calming properties) and the other was super affordable (wild orange for its uplifting properties), so I'm just waiting on it to come in later this week.

I also enjoyed the rest of spring break spending time with the hubby, catching up on rest, and reading.

I already feel more relaxed because of all these things, plus reading the book I got and taking time to get back in touch with my spirituality.

The book is Jesus Calling by Sarah Young. It's a year long devotional, and each day takes maybe 5 minutes, but each day so far has provided a dose of "I needed that" that has left me feeling even more peaceful. It also has led me to want to read in my Bible at least a few minutes each day.

The last thing I've started doing is actually making an effort to look decent every morning. That means some mascara, doing something with my hair, and putting on real clothes. I even painted my nails the other day. For those of you who don't know me well, I typically don't do these kinds of things unless I'm going on a date (which is maybe once every few months). And I realized I felt so......not pretty on a regular basis. So, I'm making an effort.

So, long story short, I'm trying my darndest to remember how to breathe, and to find out what helps me keep calm and positive.

Part of that is remembering that I can't do it all, and that I need to accept (without guilt) that I simply need a lot of rest. (In fact, I told Andrew today that my priorities are keeping Rin safe, having food for us all to eat, taking care of myself, and doing just enough cleaning to keep away absolute filth.)

Thank you guys for continuing to stick with me through this journey of hormones, emotions, and mommyhood!

Time for a Detox

Hello all. I hope the weather where you are has been pleasant, as here, the days are starting to get warmer and sunnier (finally).

In my last post, I talked about the type of person I'd like to become. My first step in finding my way into that, I believe, is a detox.

Now, I know most of you probably think about a detox as a health fad diet type thing. And that may lead you to think "is that even SAFE to do while pregnant?!" And to be honest, I don't know. Because that isn't the type of detox I'm talking about.

I'm talking about an emotional detox. A social media detox. Yes, those two go hand in hand for me. The more negativity I hear and see, the more stressed and down I feel.

I'm also talking about an electronics detox.....but only partially there. I do still have to keep my phone handy and to look up recipes and (try to) keep up with this blog, along with various other things. I still enjoy winding down in the evening either watching a show or a movie on Netflix or playing Minecraft with the hubby (we know we're nerds....don't judge). And I love listening to music.

But I'm going to turn the volume all the way up on my phone and leave it in one predetermined place in the apartment. That way, I can hear if someone is trying to get in touch with me and I know where to grab it if I want to take a picture or a video.

I'm going to turn the computer on for very specific purposes, and for a set amount of time.

I'm going to stay off of Facebook, unless I write a blog and sign on to post it. I'm not sure how long I'm going to stay off...I just know it needs to happen. If you see something you think I'd enjoy, feel free to still post it to me; I just won't see it for a while. If you want me to see something right away, you can Facebook message it to me (I'll still  have that active) or email or text it to me.

I want to really enjoy this time with my family. This time while Andrew is almost done with school (only 17 days of student teaching left, if you count today). While Rin is still an only child. While I'm still able to get more than two hours of sleep at a time and aren't hearing the cries of a newborn.

I want to open my time back up, to stop being sucked into staring at a screen and watching the time disappear.

On top of all this, I want to calm my mind.

I haven't been taking care of my mental health. The result? I've been stressed, anxious, and depressed. I've been lashing out at those I love the most. I've not been able to sleep well. I've felt tightness creeping from my back to my shoulders and neck and around to my collar bones to the point that I start to feel like I can't breathe and my heart starts racing. I haven't been able to focus and I haven't been able to just relax and stop thinking so much.

I talked to Andrew about this around the same time that I read an article on the importance of doing things like meditating during pregnancy to reduce stress and worry. We talked; I told him I can't meditate because I can't get my brain to just be quiet. He suggested I find a way to calm my mind that works for me: listen to music (and really focus on it), take a bath, etc.

Yesterday, we went for a leisurely walk in the park to enjoy the sunshine and burn off some toddler energy. It wasn't until afterwards that I even realized: my brain was calm. Between the warm sun, all the people and children and dogs, the trees, the birds, the grass, and watching my husband and daughter interacting about everything she saw, my brain just went.....quiet. For the first time in months.

I found myself laughing and more willing to engage. I found myself able to focus. I was calm and happy, and stayed that way the rest of the evening.

If that is how meditation ends up making someone feel, then by all means, I'll meditate by taking walks outside as often as I need to. And I'll find some way to calm my mind when that's not an option.

So this is the start of my detox journey and my learning to calm my mind and get rid of all the stressful, worrisome, negative thoughts. And my learning to deal with normally stress-inducing thoughts (because there will always be something serious to think about) in a healthy, non-panicked way.

It's a process. I will go ahead and acknowledge that I will probably fail at this at least 50% of the time at first. Recognizing this now, though, will help me keep from getting discouraged and giving up on the days that I do fail. And slowly, I hope that number will start to fall, and I can be a less stressed, more mindful human being.

Discovering Who I Want to Be

Today's writing will be a little different. A little less family oriented, and a little more of me just thinking.

I've begun realizing the type of person I really want to be: strong, stable, and actively productive (as well as productively active).

I want to be spiritually strong, physically strong, mentally strong.

I want to be emotionally stable, which I believe will come along with the journey into strength.

I want to be able to end my days feeling fulfilled, like I've accomplished things other than simply surviving.

I want to be the type of person that either has a vegetable garden for my family, or who gets most of her produce from a farmer's market.

I want to be the type of person who can support friends and local businesses more than she does faceless corporations.

And I'm discovering that there's is a much greater depth to my need to create than I've ever known before.

I want to create a home for my family that is both aesthetically pleasing and emotionally welcoming.

I want to create dinners that have the potential to nourish the bodies and souls of my beautiful family.

I want to create dances that showcase originality and raw emotion.

I want to be on stage, giving life to a character from a script.

I want to complete creative projects. Both projects with the kids, but also projects that I've worked on by myself.

I want to be able to do all of these things, and be that type of person.

But there seems to be simply no way to accomplish this right now. Not with being pregnant. Not with a huge upcoming move. Not with the level of daily fatigue and exhaustion I'm experiencing.

Right now, I simply do not have the energy or attention span.

It's the thought that counts, though, right? I've acknowledged these wants and needs. The next step is making a plan on how I'm going to start my journey. Most of the journey will not start for at least three months, if not for longer.

But I vow to myself that I will get back to making sure I'm the type of person, wife, mom, sister, daughter, and friend that I wish to be.

Welcome, Welcome

Welcome to the third trimester! I believe in my last blog, I might've accidentally said it would start next week. I didn't realize my mistake until a few days ago, and I apologize. I reached 28 weeks of pregnancy this past Tuesday!

And that's not all that's happened these past few weeks. They've been pretty full of exciting things. The least exciting of these? I scored two nursing bras on clearance for only three bucks.

Side tangent: WHY DO THEY NOT MAKE NURSING BRAS FOR SMALL WOMEN WITH BIG BOOBS?!?!?!?!?!?!?! (Sorry if this makes anyone uncomfortable). But seriously, most of them are either for just generally large women or generally small women. How is a woman supposed to find one that supports them properly if no one makes them?! As Andrew said, maybe they do make them, but they're more on the custom order side....which means ridiculously expensive. Sigh. I hate bras.

Okay, tangent done.

So, with the welcome of the third trimester appears to be a continuance, and possibly worsening, of fatigue and the inability to sleep well.

What's the difference between fatigue and pregnancy fatigue? Well, with pregnancy fatigue, you feel the need to get more sleep at night....and then wish you could just be sleeping all day as well. Of course, starting to feel like I need a crane to help me turn over at night, and having to get up and pee constantly, doesn't help.

Today, for example. I suspected I'd sleep great last night. We went for an after-dinner walk for about an hour, which doesn't sound like much until you remember that I haven't been walking up and down hills all that often since it's been too cold or gross to be outside so I'm super out of shape...and carrying an extra load... I slept GREAT for about 5 hours, got up to go to the bathroom, and then couldn't get comfortable and felt like I couldn't breathe properly. So I tossed and turned for an hour before getting back up and getting on the couch. I dozed there until Andrew got up, got back in bed, and slept great for about twenty minutes. Add on top of that the fact that it's raining.

Long story short? I could sleep all day, waking up to eat only, and probably sleep tonight. Yawn.

The welcoming of the third trimester also means I got to take the lovely glucose test this past Monday. Somehow, I managed not to puke it up (seriously, even though this one tasted better than the one I had to drink with Rin, it's still super disgustingly sweet). But! I passed it! And my iron levels look really good! And Amelia moves a lot. And her heart rate is good.

In other news, Rin's two year checkup was yesterday and she did great. She's 34.5 inches tall (4.5 inches taller than half my height....she takes after her daddy) and 27.6 pounds. Her head is still huge, as is on par for the course for her.

Potty training is still happening, though with mixed success. It just depends on the day and how well she slept/how grumpy she is.

And in the most exciting news, Monday was Appalachian's education career fair. Andrew was offered an early contract. For those who don't know what that is:

Schools are not legally allowed to offer, and students not legally allowed to sign, a binding contract until the student has finished with student teaching and graduated, thus getting their legal license to teach. What they CAN do is offer an early, non-binding contract, that is a written agreement stating the school system's intent to hire the student as long as they graduate, and the student's intent to accept a position at that time.

Basically, it's the closest thing we can possibly have to having a guaranteed job! We know the school system (Gaston County), but don't know the school yet. There is plenty that is still up in the air and can change on us, but our plans are starting to move forward!

Well, Rin is currently watching Pooh bear and coloring on the couch, and it's snack time (even if she's not hungry, I am!), so this looks like the end of my update. I hope you're all doing well! Until next time! (And I apologize for not having any pictures this time around...I'll try to do better next time!)