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Hey all~

I started writing drafts of posts a few days ago, so they will show up on the dates that I started writing instead of the day I post them. So keep looking back and you will find new stuff. Sorry if this is confusing. I will catch up with myself soon. (I hope!)

A quick picture update

The sleepy-laundry-basket-boyThe wide-eyed-awake boy

Mama and snuggly-boy losing at Skip-Bo. Oh well.

We are all doing well, and if I can find 10 minutes not in the middle of the night to sit at my computer, I will post lots more details. I have so much to say.

"How's Kindred with all this?"

So I had a baby. The 2 questions that are first to come out of people's mouths when I talk to them are 1) How are you feeling? and 2) How's Kindred with all this? The first question is another blog posting, I'll get to it later. This one is dedicated to the latter. How is Kindred feeling about a baby in the house? About being a big brother? About Mama snuggling with someone else besides him and not able to pick him up? Let's just say it's been an adventure.

The short answer is he's doing OK, as well as can be expected. His response to the baby has been pretty textbook as a nearly-19month old. He seems to be excited about the baby, and will run around in the morning calling "BAAAAAABEEEEE! BAAAAABEEEE!" He knows the baby's name is "Eeyiyas". He'll make the sign for baby, and he'll give him kisses on his head, and give him a pacifier when he is crying. (We call the pacifier a "chooch" around here, and Kindred will say "Baby chooch" and look around for Elias's chooch.) These are the good times.

The not-so-good times are much harder to deal with. Kindred has recently (pre-baby) developed a bit of a love of pinching. I'm not sure what this is about, and no matter how many times we tell him to be GENTLE and give NICE TOUCHES, he just doesn't get it. He understands "hurt" but it doesn't seem to matter much to him that he is hurting someone. I've even seen him pinching himself. So when he seems to be going gently for the baby's head or hands or feet then his little claws come out, it's really a bummer. Elias cries and turrns red (I've never seen a child's entire body turn red at the slightest upset. My child does.) and Kindred actually sometimes looks a little smug, then he makes the imitation crying face, but then goes on with his day, unfazed. I haven't known the best way to handle this behavior. I usually put my "I'm very mad!" face on and tell him he is not allowed to touch the baby if he can't touch him nicely, and move him away. Sometimes he's beautiful with Elias, so gentle and sweet, but there doesn't seem to be a pattern that I can read for when he will unleash the mean-boy.

The times that make me really emotional are when I'm holding or feeding Elias and Kindred will get aggressive and hurt me. He pinches and bites, and it's really painful on so many levels. I know it's because he wants me to pay attention to him, and to put the baby down and play with him. He isn't accustomed to having to share me in this way, obviously. But I'm not allowed to pick him up, not for another 1-2 weeks. (It's that whole you just had a baby and you aren't allowed to pick up anything heavier than the baby for 2-3 weeks annoyance. That annoyance called "healing.") So I can't put Kindred to bed without help, I can't put him in his high chair, I can't get him up to change his diaper. I can't carry him around like I could before, or like I can with the new baby. I feel terrible about this. My pregnancy was full of limits when it came to Kindred (feeling sick and pukey for 4 months and only lying on the floor to play with him, no fun, followed by getting big and unruly and unable to play and run around, etc.), and now that the pregnancy is over, more limits! My only emotional breakdown so far has been over this issue. I want Kindred to know I love him, and that my love for him hasn't changed just because Elias is here. I'm trying really hard to make sure I pay attention to him and play with him when I can. His grandparents have been here and have showered him with attention and gifts. It was easy to step back and let them have their fun. I loved that Kindred was getting interaction in ways I couldn't have provided. But he has bouts of mama-withdrawal, and I love being able to step up to those and show him love.

So all in all, we continue to learn and adjust to this new stage of life. It will continue to have its ups and downs, but what part of life doesn't?

In any case, Kindred continues to entertain us with his silly moments and his moments of sheer brilliance.




And I'm sure he's waiting to see which of the grandparents is going to take the new baby home with them so life can get back to "normal."

The labor story

In detail. (It's long.) After my midwife appointment earlier that Tuesday where I found out I was 5cm dilated, I made sure to pay attention to every squeeze and moment of pressure that might or might not be a contraction. I called my friends who live close to the birth center and asked them (if necessary) if I could come over and hang out that night just so that I could be 10 minutes away or less if I did start having harder labor. No more labor in the car like last time! I wasn't sure if I was being hyper-vigilant or just prepared. But there was no sense in ignoring it. I might as well be overprepared than caught off-guard.

At 7pm after dinner (side note about dinner: I had planned to make an Ethiopian lentil feast that night for dinner, with lots of spice and such. When I found out I was 5cm, I scrapped that plan and went for a simple stir-fry. Wasn't interested in Ethiopian food sitting in my stomach for labor. My mouth was not as happy about my decision, but every other part of my body was happy once I started labor.), I started timing what I thought were Braxton-Hicks contractions (which I found out later were actually early labor contractions because they were continuing to dilate me) and they were coming every 4-8 minutes. I called the midwife, Gazelle, and she said to not waste any time but to just come in and she'd meet us at the birth center. We wasted a little bit of time gathering stuff together and giving orders to my mother-in-law about clearing a space in my room so that the baby could have space to sleep in the bassinet, lined the car seat with trash bags (just in case) and put Kindred to bed. (I had no time to cry, but wanted to.) Our neighbor, Lindsey, was here and helped us with last minute details and gave us stuff to do at the birth center: books, travel Tetris, etc. (It was so odd to think about having time to do random stuff at the birth center before the baby came, or even after. Last time it was so frantic we didn't even have time to set anything up when we got there- music, pictures, anything calming or centering, etc. I got there and had a baby very soon after. Having time to chill seemed like a foreign, almost funny idea.)

We got in the car and headed out. We were hesitant to call friends-- what if this wasn't it? We made a few calls anyway, and ironically made it to the birth center perhaps faster than we'd ever made it even though we weren't rushing. When we got there, Gazelle met us and we all sat around and chatted and laughed for a long while, listening to music and looking at pictures I had drawn and sketched. Her favorite was this one:
She liked it so much she even ran it downstairs to where they were having a birth refresher course and showed the class!

She checked me soon after and found that I was about 7cm. It was around 10pm, so we went out to walk around in their beautiful garden and try to encourage more progress. My contractions weren't strong and they weren't coming at steady intervals, but they were lower in my back and pelvis and not easy to completely ignore. Michael and I still hadn't decided totally on a name for the child, so we talked about that for a while as we walked amidst the flowers and trees in the darkness. The stars were really bright. Lara showed up and sat outside with us for a good while. I was starting to feel a little tired, so I decided I wanted to go lie down and maybe get in the jacuzzi.

Gazelle came and checked me again and found that I hadn't really gone anywhere. It had been 2 hours or so since the last check. She mashed and mushed around up there for a minute and tried to "get things going", as she put it. Apparently it worked. I got up and went to the jacuzzi, which was lovely, while Lara left to get Michael and she some dinner. (OK, late dinner. It was about midnight.) Michael lit our big lilac candle and put it on the tub and I just relaxed. Not for long though. Suddenly, there they were. The contractions I remembered. The ones where I had to sit up and hold tightly to something and breathe and try to relax until they passed. Those lovely "transition" contractions that take you from 7cm to 10cm. I went through several of those in the tub and then got hit with one that made me cry. I knew I probably needed to get out of the tub after that one. (I was not allowed to deliver in the water.) I needed to pee, so I sat on the toilet after Gazelle and Michael dried me off. (It's funny how pregnancy and labor make you feel like you may never have any modesty again.) But then I decided sitting there was a pretty comfortable place to get through my contractions. I also (this may seem a little graphic. I'll try to make it as subtle as possible.) knew that nothing "cleans me out" quite like having a baby move down the birth canal, so I tried to empty everything before I got on the bed and started pushing. Michael was really good to me, and bent over to let me lean my head on his shoulder while I moaned and groaned my way through the waves of pain.

Then the time to push became clear. I got up and walked to the bed. I had envisioned sitting on a birthing stool and leaning over the bed, but when the birthing stool was placed on the floor in front of me, I couldn't figure out how the use it. It became completely impossible for me to visualize how I would sit and lean, such that Gazelle even had to demonstrate for me. I couldn't think straight at all, let alone think spacially! I got hit with another contraction and ended up with one foot up on the stool, which is not exactly the proper way to use it. I gave up quickly on the stool. Then I went on all fours on the bed for the next push and got a major cramp in the back of my thigh. My legs had cramped through my last labor, and I wasn't about to let them do it again, so I flipped over on my side, pushed again, and finally got to leaning against the headboard and pushing 2 more times in a reclined sitting position.

Again, I do not try to be graphic, but I think this picture that Lara took really describes well what was happening right before Elias was born. See my face, then look at Michael's.
In any other circumstance I would think that someone showing that much excitement while someone else is experiencing that much pain would be totally sadistic. This was an exception, and I don't hold it against him. (Although it's probably a good thing I didn't notice in the moment.) I believe he was thrilled to be married to such a power-woman.

Anyway, so the contractions weren't letting up much at all in between pushes, and I was just powering through them, trying to get this baby the heck out. I knew I was probably going too fast, but when you are in that place, it isn't like you comply with logic. I heard Gazelle say, "There's your baby! I see your baby!" then "Oh, and there's the bag of waters." Michael says that Elias's face was covered in this veil and Gazelle broke through it and broke my water as he was emerging. I felt this immense release of pressure then. Now here's the funny part. Gazelle didn't want me to tear, so she tried to get me to make those small grunty pushes to gently send the baby out. She did this by just yelling, "Michelle, little pushes! WAH! WAH! WAH! WAH! WAH!" I knew what she was trying to do, so I copied her, but I don't think my pushing was any lighter. Then I realized that Michael and the nurse were also going "WAH WAH WAH WAH!" I remember thinking that this was really bizarre and a little funny. (Lara said later that she was really shocked when the WAH's started and that she thought it was something we had all talked about doing before she got there!) After the chorus of WAH's, I knew Elias's head was out, but my belly was still too big for me to see him. I pushed again right away and out came his shoulders and arms, and Gazelle told me to take him. So I reached down and grabbed him and pulled him the rest of the way out of my body and flopped him up on my chest. He was covered in vernix so thick that my hands were kind of stuck to him. He screamed and cried for a minute, then he calmed down and just snuggled with me.

The nurse was sure that he was over 9lbs, but I was not convinced. He seemed too skinny. I mean, Kindred was chunky butt at birth, and this little one didn't seem to have much of a butt at all. When he got weighed about 45 minutes later, we saw he was not 9lbs. He was 8lbs 8oz, which was OK with me. (The nurse was shocked. I tried not to gloat.) I had not torn really at all, and didn't need stitches, thank goodness.

Elias was born at 1:40am, so everyone was a little worn out. Michael's parents were in the living room waiting for the big event, and my mom was, once again, on her way from Pittsburgh. (Michael's folks could be there because our wonderful neighbor, Lindsey, agreed to sleep in our apartment with Kindred while they left for a few hours.) Elias nursed and we all rested, and it was a very peaceful night.

The next day, Kindred came to meet his new brother for a few minutes and wasn't sure how to feel about him. The first time Kindred saw and touched Elias, the grandparents stood over the bed with cameras like the paparazzi, so I don't think it was quite a calm intro. But it probably didn't matter too much because after Kindred said hello, he was ready to move on and explore all the cool cabinets and doors and rolling chairs in the room. The grandparents took him back home to nap. Michael and I and Elias (and my mom) left around 3pm that afternoon. I really felt like it was the ideal time at the birth center, and the experience was what the midwives strive to provide for every woman. I didn't feel that way last time, but this time was wonderful. I felt relaxed and well cared for, and actually had no idea that, like last time, there were 4 other labor/ births going on at the same time.

That's the story. I will talk more about my healing process later. Until then, here's some post-birth pictures of friend and hero, Lara, and the grandma's with their newest boy.

Meet Elias Lewis!

I just walked in the door to home with my new lovely son, and I will give the short version of the birth story, to be expanded later.
As posted yesterday, we went to the birth center around 8:30pm. I walked peacefully around the garden with Michael and Lara for over an hour, having somewhat steady but not too intense contractions. I was around 7cm.
I got in the jacuzzi and things turned up a notch, and then several notches. I got up from the tub, used the toilet, went to transition, pushed in 5 different positions around the bed (I moved after every push), two more pushes and then the midwife was calling for me to grab my baby. He was 8lb 8oz and 21", and he actually scored a 9/9 on his Apgar. He glowed. It was 1:40am.


Michael's parents and my mom both stopped by that night and then Kindred came to meet the baby the next morning.
We had to stay the full 12 hours because if my positive GBS screen so they could moniter the baby, so we left the birth center around 3pm. We are thrilled with our son Elias, thrilled with our birth center experience, and thrilled with Lindsey, Lara and our parents who really stepped up to support us with their physical presence through this labor journey.

More to come....

We're off!

We're headed to the birth center. 8:20pm. Steady BH contractions. It feels much less frantic this way, and the midwife feels pretty good about meeting us there so early. We'll keep you posted.

News Flash

I just got back from my midwife appointment and wanted to share this.

She did an internal exam "just for fun" (my mom asked, "Who does that just for fun??"), and when she was finished she had a rather odd look on her face. Then she smiled and said, "I had to make sure I was feeling your cervix, because you are 4, almost 5 cm dilated and about 50% effaced!"

Michael and I laughed and laughed. I so don't do this birthing thing by the book.

I washed my skirt last night and got my massage this morning. I really could have this baby any minute.

I'm feeling a little overwhelmed.

Getting closer?

So here's a fun story. Michael and I wanted to take some pictures of me outdoors. We live in a house that does not have much enclosed yard space, not to mention that we have neighbors that live in front and above us. It was not an appropriate location for photos. So after some brainstorming, I remembered some friends who happen to live in a great house merely blocks from us in the city who landed a place that is tucked far back into the trees. (Seriously, you have to walk like 100 yards on a path to get to their front door.) They have a wonderful bamboo stand in their yard, and some really nice rustic stumps and such. They also have 2 small children. They didn't answer their phone when I called, so my best guess was that they were out of town. I felt like it might be safe for us to go over and take some pictures there without being disturbed. My biggest issue was that I didn't necessarily want their young son to come bounding into the yard in the middle of the photo shoot and be startled by a rather large and very pregnant naked woman standing where his seesaw used to be. Well, that didn't happen. But after we'd been there about 30 minutes, their landlady came over. This was awkward. Michael handled it rather well while I hid behind a tree. We got over 100 shots on digital and black and white film. Michael did a really good job, and we had an enjoyable afternoon. The above pictures are a "blog-friendly" sampling. The pictures below are just because this blog is getting a little me-heavy and we need some Kindred relief.


Just in terms of an update on the pregnant me, I have a midwife appointment tomorrow and I will probably ask for an internal exam to see if I'm "progressing" at all. I know those things mean little, but it just might be fun to know. I'm feeling pretty good, just tired often. My mother-in-law is here and spends a lot of time occupying Kindred and cleaning up after us blobs, so that has been really helpful. I'm trying to get some stuff done, but the progress is slow. It's pretty sad that I'm too lazy to even get the "nesting" instinct that everyone claims; the one where they're full of energy and zeal to clean and set up and prep for baby. Nope, not here.

Technically they would say I'm "due" on the 28th, but I have learned to think of a due date as a bit of a crock and think of it more like a "due period." I'm hearing my body say that this baby is going to come somewhere between the 25th and 30th. Maybe you could be like, duh, Michelle, of course you could think that. But with Kindred I was pretty sure I was going to have a February baby even though his due date was January 28th. I was right. He came the 3rd. So I don't consider myself to be that crazy. If it doesn't happen then, well, OK. But I like having a larger time frame to work with rather than focusing on one day. Maybe I'll go tonight. I'll keep you posted. (Although I just told Michael that I can't go tonight because I just got a big stain on the skirt I want to wear to the birth center, so I have to wait until it's washed. That, and I have my final prenantal massage scheduled for tomorrow morning. Don't want to miss that.)

What we've been up to

The last time I was pregnant, we took a series of black and white nude photos of me when I was about 7 months along. We wanted to try that again this time, intending to include Kindred. This is a challenge. He wasn't in a great mood, the lighting wasn't in a great mood-- the clouds kept rolling in. Kindred kept wanting to read his new Choo Choo book. But we got a few good shots. We will try it again later this week.

Last night Michael and I made my newest belly cast.

Kindred says hi, in his "dino" shirt.

Oh, and the tomatoes, they're ripening, finally. Not all at once either, which is nice. Thanks for the encouragement! (Amie, I can't say for sure about the watering technique. Maybe.)

The Mother Blessing

Instead of a baby shower again this time, I decided I wanted to do a Mother Blessing with friends-- women who are in my life that I am close to. It seems like there has been so much less of a fuss about this pregnancy and this baby than my first, and I really wanted an intentional time to celebrate who this new child is and who he will become.

It was a beautiful time, organized primarily by my friends Lara and Amber. There were 12 women who gathered, a wide circle of friends from many parts of my life. We washed our hands in rose water and circled together as we began the blessing, and committed to making the space a safe one in which we could share our hopes and fears with each other. Then everyone introduced themelves and talked about how they were connected to me and my life. The rest of the afternoon included a time of casting away fears, a time to talk about impressions they have of me as a mother and Michael and I as parents (and Kindred as a big brother), a time to connect with the baby and acknowledge his fears as well as his potential, a time of guided meditation (you are all welcome to my shell anytime!), and it ended with making quilt squares, eating yummy food and putting henna on my belly. (The pictures below are showing that process.)

I felt so peaceful when it was over, and I appreciated all who gathered with me in presence and in spirit, and I feel more ready to become a mama twice around. Love to you!

The Henna Belly!

We started by making an outline with washable marker on my belly.

The symbols we used were flowers, pomegranets, vines and trinities.

Then we covered the outline with the henna paste (which smelled wonderful!)
Then the paste had to dry and stay on my belly for 4-12 hours so that it would stain my skin. So we covered the design with medical tape so that I could walk around and sleep and not stain everything.

This morning when I woke up, I removed the tape (yowza!) and the stain will remain for up to 2 weeks. It is a light brown/ orange now, but will get darker over the next few days.

(Oh, this is kind of an aside, but for those of you who are wondering, my dad had his heart cath this morning, they found no blockages and he was on his way home when he called me this afternoon. Whew!)

How big?

How big is Kindred? So big!

How big is Mama?So big!

ps- This is my favorite maternity shirt, an it's not a maternity shirt. It's a medium. Thank you, Burlington Coat Factory!

I was doing well, like I said, and then yesterday I pulled something and I had to walk leaning back at a 45 degree angle in order to pick up my feet. I waddled. I felt 104 years old. Today is better.

And just for fun, here's a picture of Kindred's favorite new game. Pull out all the pots and pans.

The next fun game I'm going to teach him: Put them all back! Fun fun!

Drop the Toothpaste, Ma'am, and Put Your Hands on Your Head

All I have to say is that all these people who are casually accepting this idea of flying without any carry-on luggage at all have never taken a flight with a child. That's all I'm going to say for now.

In other topics, I found these 2 websites. The first is kinda fun. It's called Maternity Gallery. I think it's interesting to look at pictures of women in all shapes and sizes during different stages of their pregnancy. I also love to note that, despite popular belief, a pregnant belly is not perfectly round. Some are absolutely lopsided. (Like mine.)

The second site I found I want to put out there only because I've talked to moms who are unhappy with their body situation post-baby. Their bellies, their breasts, their butts. All this hoopla about celebrity mom-ness makes me want to puke-- these hip be-like-me women who deliver a baby and are back to "star bod" in 2 months. Let's be honest. It either took a lot of surgery or a lot of air-brushing-- nice try, Brittney. However, I want to emphasize that you should not look at this site if you are on your first pregnancy. Second, third, fourth-time moms, have a look. But first-timers, you have enough to fret about and plenty to be thrilled about than to obsess about how your body is going to recover from being over-stretched and over-weight and bruised and so on. Anyway, this site is called The Shape of a Mother, and it is meant to celebrate the bodies of mothers who have been through pregnancy and who have the scars and stretch marks and more to show for it, along with their fabulous children. Parts of it scare me, and parts of it make me feel very proud of how women can get out of bed and function beautifully every day with all the expectations thrown at us about our appearances.

Have a great weekend!

You take the good, you take the bad

This whole week has been pretty full, and this weekend the grandparents descend for a reunion with the grandson they miss so terribly. Poor Papap is missing the fun (he has to work), but Gpa Jim, Gma Carol and Grammie are all anxious to arrive.

Back to the week. We have had visitors or went visiting almost every day. Monday was the chiropractor visit, then an evening stroll took us to visit some long lost friends who happen to live right around the corner and who unbelieveably happened to be home. Rose, Lara, Lindsey, and Nora were all here on Tuesday at various and overlapping times. Wednesday back to the chiropractor, then to C & J's to hang with "Peanut" and the kitties and have dinner. Today to the grocery store then to K's for a swim if the weather holds.

So about the good and the bad. Here's the list:

The Good: Kindred was the cutest guy yesterday. He only pinched me once, and that was mostly out of excitement.

The Bad: The day before, Kindred was a tyrant. He even bit Rose. When we were outside, he came up to me with something crunching in his teeth. Yes, folks, a rock. Crunch crunch. This was when he wasn't eating dirt or chewing on the ant bait. Or throwing toys or shoes into the street. When we went inside, he was climbing up onto the table and putting salt and pepper in our water glasses, trying to pry open the tape deck on the radio, turning the fans on and off and, I would imagine, plotting to drown things in the toilet. It wasn't a good day.

The Good: My house, when Kindred isn't tearing it up, is in pretty good shape. I'm not overwhemed with laundry, I'm fairly on top of the dishes, and the living room looks OK, kinda like a small living room that is a toddler's second playroom, which I think is reasonable when you like in an apartment as tiny as ours. (We won't discuss the bedroom. I'm getting to it, OK?)

The Bad: Michael has been gone excessively this week. We miss him.

The Good: He seems to be feeling pretty good about his show on Saturday night. (7pm, Atonement Lutheran Church. See the website Yes!And... Camp for details and location, and COME TO THE SHOW! (It's free.) )

The Bad: Our stupid freezer needs to be defrosted again. Who has time for that?

The Good: I went to the midwife yesterday. I hadn't gained a single pound this week! Wee-hoo! I'm holding steady at 4 pounds over where I was this time my last pregnancy, which isn't too terrible at all. I'm also feeling pretty good. I feel like I have more energy and can actually walk. I don't know what that's about. Isn't the 2nd trimester when you get your kicks, and the boosts of energy and feelin' great before you get too big and bulky? Well, I'm too big and bulky, and turning over in bed at night is still a feat that involves grunting and groaning and heaving and shifting 3 pillows. But I'm not all that uncomfortable, except when this child starts poking around my sides or places where he just isn't supposed to be poking. What is going on?

The Bad: The midwife casually mentioned to me in the middle of our appointment, "And you know you tested positive for Group B Strep." What? ARGH! Could anything go right for me and these ridiculous medical weird things? Anyway, what this means (as far as I know) is that the infection doesn't bother me at all, but has the tiniest chance of giving the baby severe respiratory distress. (Great.) So I had to agree to get a hep lock IV of antibiotics going when I go into labor. (I won't be attached to a pole or strapped down or anything.) Here's the catch. The antibiotics should be in my system for 4-8 hours before the baby passes through the birth canal in order to be effective. And the chances of me getting to the Birth Center 4 hours before the baby shows his face? Yeah, that's what I said. The midwife seemed mostly unconcerned. She said that it is rare that the birth center mom's get there on time to get the drip fully before they give birth, and she added that she's never experienced a baby that had adverse affects from the GBS. OK. Not sure what to think about all that. Obviously, I would love to get to the birth center 4 hours before the baby comes, rather than, say, 20 minutes, which is what I think is more likely. (sigh.)

The Good: Kindred learned how to say "busssss" last night, and it was hilarious. He always only said "buh", and last night I decided it as time to add the "s". There was a process (as I'm changing his diaper and putting on his PJ's far past his bedtime) of sounding out buh- and ssss, and finally he put them together. I jumped around and clapped and "yay!"ed and gave him kisses. So today he would be trying to get my attention and he would slyly just say "bussss" and I was obliged to make a circus out of it. I also taught him "mess" instead of just "mah." Oh the accomplishments.

The Bad: Hospitalizations. Just got a call that my Dad was admitted to the VA Hospital with high blood pressure (like really high) and dizziness and such. And Gma Angie is in the hospital as a result of a completely incompetent pharmacist and nursing staff. (The doctor orders 2.5mg of a med, they give her 25mg. Dummies dummies dummies.) These hospital trips are really bad timing for all involved. Grammie might have to skip this weekend.

The Good: Michael came home after Kindred had been put to bed last night, but Kindred was still yapping away to himself quietly when Michael settled in. So he went in to rock Kindred. Kindred, despite the obstacle of the pacifier planted in his mouth, was able to smile and say, "Dad-home!" while lying in his crib when Michael walked in. Michael and he hung out for a short while, and Michael was glowing when he came back into the living room. A good ending to the day.

And there you have the facts of life.

No clever title for this one

Kindred's First Bubble Bath

Heat and disposable diapers don't work really well together. His poor bum. So we pulled out some Aveeno bubble bath and let him splash around in it in hopes that his bum would get some healing and recovery time. He had a great time. "Bub! Bub!" he would say, pointing all around. He'd never encountered so many bubbles.

He was so intrigued with the bubbles, he did lots of stuff with them. Hold them, blow on them. I even got a video of, of course, him eating them.

In Other News...

This is the part of my garden that liked the heat.

This is the part that did not.
And this was the guy that was sitting right in front of my door when I went to water last night. (Can you see him? He's big. And pointy. And hairy.)Needless to say, I decided the plants would be fine and did not attempt to cross paths with this one.

I've been given 6 hours. What do I do?

It was a long week. Hot, sweaty, oppressive, Michael wasn't home much, and everything wore on my patience. I know that this upcoming week isn't going to get any easier. It was clear to me that I needed a break. So I asked Michael to be in charge of Kindred for the day, go have some special guy time together. Michael agreed, while also demanding that I leave the house while Kindred sleeps. "3 hours out," he said. "Then when you come home Kindred and I will go run some errands for a couple of hours." Yes! So Michael got Kindred up, we went to church, came home and put Kindred to bed. I went to see a movie.

Now, I can't stand it when someone talks up a movie so much that it loses all flavor by the time you see it. So I won't say much, except that I haven't had as much fun in a movie since I saw Sideways. If it becomes an option, don't pass up the chance to see Little Miss Sunshine.

(How weird. I don't normally plug movies in my blog.)

Anyway, on the way home from the movie, I realized that I've been given this chance a few times in the past several months. This "go do whatever you want" chance. And every time I think, "Yes! Whatever I want! (pause) Um, what might that be?" My first instinct is to think "Shop!" because it's nearly impossible to shop for clothes with Kindred. He doesn't really get into it (such a man) and he doesn't behave well in the fitting rooms-- when he fits in the stroller or the cart. But the fact is, I'm done shopping. I'm about to be as big as a house, and then 5 sizes smaller quite quickly within a month or so. (OK, I hope.) There is little point in shopping for clothes. Besides, we've spent far more money than we should have this summer. So I would prefer to curb the spending.

So what's next? A movie, I guess. Anything else? A pedicure? Maybe. Still a lot of $. A coffee shop? Well, OK. I don't really drink coffee and have to research the language of a coffee shop before I go in and order or else I just stand there and ask to have everything explained to me and eventually have to server just pick what they think I would like. I feel a little deficient in a coffee shop. (But proud when I learn the contents of just one hot beverage.) (Aside: when we were in the Borders last week, I ordered (after some coaching) a Vanilla Bean Frappachino. Why on earth I couldn't have just ordered a "Vanilla milkshake" baffles me. It was one and the same. At least it tasted that way. Why does everything have to be so pretentious?)

And then what to I do when I'm given a chance to be alone at home? Clean? Laundry? Dishes? Even if I wanted to scrapbook, I would have to clean first. It's sad. I just don't know what I enjoy anymore. I don't know what to do with myself when I have free time. I'm so boring!

So that's my question to you. What do you like to do when you have some of that elusive treat called "freetime"? I seriously need some suggestions.

Topics that Matter to Perhaps No One But Me

The Weather

OK, let's be honest, this one probably matters to a lot of people. I am so glad we got some reprieve today. There was actually a cool-ish breeze every once in a while, which was nice, and the air wasn't as think as syrup. I wish the nicer weather had put me in a better mood. But Kindred and I got to spend some time outside this evening for the first time in days and days, and that was great.

Parenting, My Patience, My Kid

I'm not one who spent her whole life dreaming of having children and creating philosophies on how they would be raised. I figured when I married Michael I was off the hook since he had studied all that kid-smart stuff (early childhood development, behavior modification styles, etc.) and if we were to have kids, he would tell me what to do.

It hasn't really worked that way, nor do I still believe it should. But Kindred has been (mostly) a stellar kid and we haven't needed to use a lot of disciplinary tactics. I mean, there was the whole not eating stage, and there have been other challenges, but nothing major.

Now, however, he has started straight up ignoring me. This is a bit shocking. I guess I knew the day would come, but I always thought if I let him explore on his own enough that if I ever needed him to stop doing something that was truly dangerous, he would accept that and stop if I put my foot down firmly enough. Not so. His latest antic is running around the apartment turning fans on and off, sometimes trying to stick his fingers through the holes. Michael and I have tried every method we can come up with the stop this behavior. We have yelled, we have made loud noises, we have spoken softly, we have explained, we have pulled him away, we have signed "No touch!", we have (well, I have) smacked his hand, we have held his face close and said "No No No!" What does he do? He smiles. Nothing phases him. Then he reaches for the knob again. Arg!

I realize time-outs don't necessarily work for Kindred when he is this age. But I feel like they work for me. I have started just picking him up and putting him in his bed for 5 minutes without chooches or toys. He wails the whole time, but at least I'm not grabbing at him or yelling. I began to realize today that those methods were only effective in teaching him that it's OK to yell and grab at someone when you are mad. I know this because all morning he was hitting and pinching me when I wasn't doing what he wanted, and this is all pretty new. I know it isn't entirely my example that's leading him to behave this way, but I don't want to continue to do it when I'm telling him he shouldn't. At least I'm removing him from the situation and removing myself from him. I wish I had more patience. Sometimes I feel like a poor parent. There are some things I feel like I'm good at (and those things generally surprise me), and some things I'm improving on, and I know that learning never stops. But with the thought of another child on the way, I am getting paranoid that my patience is not going to hold up if I'm low on sleep, which might be very likely. (This is a not a call for anyone to affirm me as a parent. I am mostly venting.)

My Kid, the Smart One

When he isn't terrorizing me, Kindred is amazing me. He has started putting several words together to make sentences. Well, sort of sentences. When Michael comes in after work, Kindred says "Dad's home!" When he wants something to drink, or anything really, he'll ask for it with a "yes" at the end: "More juice yesh?" "Go go go out-din (outside) yesh? Yesh." He calls every male he sees besides his father "Uncle", and yesterday he actually said "Uncle Shhh" about our friend Shane who was visiting. When we get near the house in the car, he calls out "Home!" (He knows it from every angle. It isn't like we have a driveway.) When I get him up from sleeping, he points to and names everything he knows in the room. "Fan, light, duck, Pooh, horse, Ba-ba (lamby), bed, goose, mama, airplane, belly, shoes, etc. The best is that he's starting referring to himself: Jid-jid. "Mama, dada, jid-jid," he'll say as he points to each of us, either in person or in a picture he sees. Yep, so smart.

He turned 18 months yesterday.

My Body

After that whole speal about how I was just going to be patient and let this pregancy run its course and not be anxious.... Let's just say the pressure is building. Quite literally. There is more pressure on the front part of my abdomen, enough that I actually thought yesterday the baby might have dropped because I was having so much trouble moving. (He didn't.) I'm beginning to realize that the bigger I get, the less ability I'm going to have to be patient, especially if it stays this hot.

Speaking of bigger, I went to the midwife again on Wednesday, and I discovered that I'd only gained 2 pounds in 2 weeks! Wee-hoo! I'm pretty well on-track with weight gain. I started at 141lbs, and now I'm 168. That's, what, 27 lbs, right? I have less than 4 weeks to go, which means about 4 more pounds, so I think I'll stay on target as long as I don't binge at the end like I did with Kindred. The more unfortunate thing is that the midwife thinks that baby is at about 7lbs. (She couldn't get a really good grip on him since his bottom seems to be under my ribcage.) This means that I'm probably going to have another chunker. (This seems so unfair! There are women who can gain 100 lbs during their pregnancy and still only have a little 7.5lb full-term baby. Why am I destined to have such huge children?)

My Breasts

(Dad's may skip this part.)

On a pleasant note, I think that my breasts aren't as big this time around. My 38E bras are not fitting as well as they did last time. The bras are too big. At least there's something to be positive about.

My husband

He is a good man. He is a busy man. (Kindred has learned how to say "work" and "meeting," and has used them often in the past 4 weeks when talking about his father.) I will probably not see much of him next week, since his show is on Saturday. He works very hard, sweating and sweating, and then he comes home and makes dinner a lot of times. (Last night he made vegetarian cheese steaks.) Then he hangs out with Kindred and plays. Kindred loves to see his dada home. I do too. Good man.

My Chiropractor

Thought you might like an update. Dr. Z (in his bow tie) has been taking pretty good care of me, and Kindred too. He doesn't crack Kindred's back or anything, but he makes sure that Kindred is occupied while I'm lying face-down on the table. Dr. Z loves to dance, and he dances around the room for Kindred every time we're in there. He also gives Kindred soft rubber hammers to play with, and he calls him "Kin." When Kindred removed his shoes and threw them on the floor, Dr. Z sat down and helped him put them back on. He calls me "Mama-san." Today he asked how many days I had left to go, and I said 24. He said brightly, "That means the next time I see you, you'll only have 21 more!" Then we joked about me measuring my due date in number of visits I have left at the chiropractor. I still think he's nuts, but in a good way. (And I haven't yelled at the nun.)

Just More Questions

1) Below is a picture of our tomatoes-- 3 plants. They are nearly as tall as me. I have a few questions specifically about them. First, if they are almost as tall as me, and they have like 25 gorgeous tomatoes on them, why are they not turning red? Green, every single one of them. Isn't it about time for ripening? Second, why would someone want to weedwhack these lovely things?
2) Why do all of the jewels fall out of my nose studs within 2 weeks of putting them into my nose? When will Claire's learn that their products are deficient? (Or better yet, when will I learn to stop buying them from Claire's and find someplace that sells adequate ones?)

3) Is there a special room in Hades where people have weights strapped on the front of their bodies while they are forced to wash dishes every moment for all eternity? If so, I have arrived. (Or perhaps a better question might be, what can be learned from the experience of finding oneself spending a lot of time with hands buried in hot soapy water and repeating a circular scrubbing motion over and over again? Is there some redemption in this?)
3a) Who invented the dish wand, and how can I contact that person to thank them?

4) Why is my upstairs neighbor so childish, and sometimes downright mean? (I know the obvious answer might seem to be "She's a cop," but I'm trying to search for a deeper explanation.)

5) Why is music not a more central part of my daily life? Can one have too much NPR?

6) Can a pregnant woman ever do enough Kegels?

7) Can I please go to bed?

In our swimmies

Here's Kindred and I about to go splash in the little pool outside. I love that I can still fit in my bathing suit. Maternity suits can really be ridiculous. I haven't been able to get a picture of the actual splashing in the pool. It is just too dangerous to bring the camera anywhere near water with the boy on the loose. He loves to make anything swim, and I'm sure he'd love to find out how the camera would fare. I'm sure I would NOT love to find out. So until then, you will have to settle for inside shots of us, dry.

So the heat is on, and I am surprisingly comfortable-- as long as I'm not in the kitchen. Our apartment is really ok, with 2 very small AC window units. I try to avoid going outside-- which makes Kindred really bummed-- but gosh, it's like breathing liquid outside. Warm thick liquid. Today was supposed to feel like 108F. I'm so thankful that we haven't been plagued with any power-outages. When it storms really hard at night, I lay there in a panic. Not because I am scared of the loud boom and flashes, but because I'm terrified that the power will go out, then Kindred will wake up, and none of us will sleep and it will be sweltering. A huge tree fell right around the corner last time it stormed, and I was quite surprised that it didn't take power lines down with it. But so far we've been OK.

People keep asking if I'm ready to be done with this pregnancy and are checking in on me often, which is so kind. I am so glad I've hit the 36 week mark, and now I'm ready to start prepping for the kiddo. (Actually, we just need to get through the end of Michael's camp, Aug 12, and I will be more ready to go. Having the baby beforehand would just be a little rough.) I am allowed from this point on to have the baby at the Birth Center instead of being accompanied by my midwives to the hospital, which is a great relief. I'm not getting antsy. I'm definitely more excited now than ever about meeting this baby, but I'm not overdoing it. Kindred was 6 days late. I'm trying to not anticipate anything but just go day to day and see what happens. Expecting to go into labor at 38 weeks or even 39 feels a little sketchy to me. I remember just deciding last time at about 5 days after my due date that I just had a tumor that wiggled and had a mind of it's own but was never going away. I'm not prepared to play those kinds of games with myself this time around. I just want to be calm. Goodness knows I don't expect things to be calm once I'm in labor, so I would like to take advantage of the ability to relax while I can.

In the meantime, I hope you all are staying cool. And if you are close by, you may certainly invite yourself over to sit in the AC for a while.