Happy Barfday Gigi!

Subtitled: WORST BIRTHDAY EVER!

We had all of these grand plans to get up this morning, head over to Gigi's, go down to the beach and walk and throw rocks and have a grand old time, and then after nap time, head back for a dinner party with dinner by Grizz, ice cream cake and brownies and you know, partying. We were going to treat Gigi right.

Instead, Ellie woke up at 6am and when Tim went in to see if he could coax her back to sleep, she said "clean the barf out of my hair!" HOORAY BARF! And by that I mean, I love showering and starting laundry at 6:30am. At first I was hoping it was a toddler version of the ol' boot and rally - that if we gave Ellie a bland breakfast she'd recover, because it was just a one off belly ache. Yeah... I caught a lot of regurgitated bland toast in my hands today. It's a bug.

We're hoping it's just a 24 hour thing, but it meant that we couldn't get out. Gigi did stop by briefly so we were able to say happy birthday and give her the birthday cards we'd decorated, but overall, we spent most of the day moping, napping and watching TV. We did throw her in the stroller at 7:30pm for a quick walk around the block and some fresh air, and she has thus far kept down the peanut butter toast we served her for dinner. Fingers crossed that it's over in the morning... and that there's still some canned whipped cream at Gigi's house to eat tomorrow.

In the meanwhile, I'm sorry that Gigi's birthday turned out this way. She is the most excellent of Gigi's. She provides reading time:

And musical entertainment

On Friday night we had a lot of family band time. I think my favorite moment was seeing the family band in the kitchen - Gigi was singing, Ellie was dancing, and Grizz was playing the triangle. He got real mad when I tried to take his picture.

Also, thanks to Gigi, my front yard looks like this:

My favorite flowers, planted by my favorite lady. Happy Birthday!

Sleepytime.

A lot of times, when I have to go get Ellie from her nap, I find myself stopping to take a picture before waking her up, because she's definitely not in the same place I left her.

Like this.

Or this. A prime example of why we employ the bed rail.

It's funny to see her crammed into the corner or against the wall, because this is the kid who got moved out of her crib at 8 months old because if she bumped the railings, she'd wake up crying and be unable to get back to sleep.

And this is a prime example of why Tim and I don't cosleep with our human children. Sure, you may think it's just some before bed reading, but that's where Lulu has been sleeping for weeks now. When she's not awake and trying to eat my hair.

Trash Day.

The sound on this video is terrible - you can't really hear Ellie, just me and the noise of the trash truck. So I'd advise watching it on mute, or with the volume really low.

Ellie's delight at the trash truck kills me every time. And between our house and Grizz's house (sorry, Gigi's house, as she would have you know) there are two fabulous days a week that she gets to run up and down the street, dancing for joy.

When I'm having a crabby day, I sometimes imagine being the garbage collector. You sit in your car, use the robotic arm, and get waved at by kids throughout the neighborhood. Except when their moms come outside and shake their fists at you for being too loud and cutting a nap short (to which I say, the trash truck comes at almost the same time every week, perhaps it's time to change your kid's nap time.)

Last night as we were talking before bed time, I told Ellie that today was a going to preschool day. She informed me that she was going to cry, and cry she did at drop off. But when I came back for pick up, she was sitting in one of the little chairs, happily eating her lunch. Someone else's little angel was busily screaming his head off instead. Of course, the second Ellie caught sight of me, she burst into tears, but then she also told me she didn't want to go home. I think we're all going to survive! And learn! And thrive!

Hello Everybody, So Glad to See You!

Another good week at music class! Today I brought my little camera and tried to get some videos of Ellie and Lexi, acting like their usual happy, foolish selves. Sadly, they did not do their usual slow dance/snuggle fest during the lullaby song at the end, but they did get plenty of good dancing in.

Yes, Ellie is wearing a sticker on her forehead. We went to Trader Joes in the morning.

I am feeling like a pretty big jerk though. On our walk from the play ground to music class, Ellie was walking on this low rock wall, like usual. She slipped, and I basically watched her in slow mo hit the wall, then fall all the way to the ground. It was only a foot and she thankfully didn't smash her face or anything, but the way she fell, she tore up her inner/back thigh on the edge of the rocks. Poor little chunky legs! And I just sort of stood there, because I thought she was about to catch herself, and didn't grab her when I had the chance. UGH. Feeling like mother of the year. The good news is it doesn't seem to bother her much, except for when I insisted that she let me wipe it and then put Neosporin on it before her nap. We'll be wearing long pants for the rest of the week though.

Big Sister and Little Brother.

I had my 36 week check up this morning, and got what is probably my final ultrasound for this pregnancy. This time, both Ellie and Eileen got to come with me (usually I just do them alone - I made Tim come to the two most important ones, but otherwise, it's just me and the tech staring at the baby.)

I thought Ellie would be more excited about it than she was. Mostly, she was concerned with the ultrasound gel that they squeezed all over my big fat stomach, as you can see:

(excuse the lighting. And the blurriness. I can't really tell what they're looking at either.)

And here she is, listening to his heart beat drum away. It's funny because her big obsession with visiting the doctors office is listening to someone's heart. She wants them to listen to my heart, and hers, and sometimes Smelly Cat's. I get it - it's a common thing for little kids to do when trying to play doctor. Lots of times, she'll press her hand against my chest (or my throat, she is terrible with anatomy) and tell me "first, I'll listen to your heart."

All is well with Lambeau. They're estimating him over six and a half pounds, so odds are, he'll be around his sister's size at birth if I go until my due date (she was 8lbs, 6oz.) Everything looks great in my insides, so he's got a nice home to hang out in until then.

Here's his foot. It's about the only decent picture they got:

Then Eileen and Ellie went over to the mall while I had my check up with the doctor, and went and got some blood work done for my endocrinologist. The doctor spent a total of about two minutes with me, because we're at the stage now where everything looks good, the baby is big enough that if he decides to come out, he can come out, and other than that, there's not really anything more to say. Obviously, I am monitoring my blood pressure at home, keeping track of the baby's movements, and taking care of myself. But in terms of predicting labor or anything like that, there's nothing they can do. It's sort of funny - all of this fancy technology allows me to know so much more about my unborn children than my mom or grandma ever knew (I mean, forget just knowing the gender - I've seen the blood pumping through my unborn child's four chambered heart and looked at all of his major internal organs) but the rest of it is hit or miss. The weight ultrasounds are just estimates and he could be a pound more or less when he comes out. There's no test they can do to predict when labor is going to start. So we're waiting, just like generations of preggos before me.

In the meanwhile, I really need another burst of nesting energy so that I can get all Lambeau's clothes washed. Otherwise, in addition to swooping in to take care of Ellie, I am going to have to beg Mimi or Gigi to do a couple loads of tiny laundry while I'm in the hospital.

Babymoon and Preschool

We've had quite the relaxed few days, Tim and I. Meanwhile, Mimi and Pa were nearly run ragged by their little granddaughter. They have discovered that she basically has two speeds - running, and still. It goes along with her two volumes - talking, and asleep.

It was really wonderful on our end though! Mimi and Pa generously let us drop Ellie off Friday night, even though we had nowhere to be. Just to be able to wake up on Saturday and not have to get her fed and dressed and off to Yorba Linda made the day seem so much more relaxed. Friday night I drove home in traffic, listening to MY music instead of Raffi or Miss Elena songs, and then we had dinner out and rented a movie. Then Saturday we grabbed brunch and drove down to our hotel. We'd talked about all of the stuff we might do in San Diego, but after walking around for awhile in the 80 degree weather, I turned into a pregnant, swollen pumpkin and had to suck down a bunch of ice water in order to wrench my jewelry off my fat, fat fingers. And that night my flats felt too tight, just walking to and from dinner! That's what I get for bragging about how much better I feel than I did at the end with Ellie. In the end though, it was just what Tim and I needed. We lounged in our very nice hotel room, watched TV, chatted about the baby and just relaxed, knowing we won't be able to waste time like that for yeeeeeeeeears to come (but we'll have two beautiful children, so we can't really complain.) We had a very nice dinner out and then had cocktails (mocktails for me) in the hotel bar, listening to live music. And then we slept in!

I did a lot of sleeping. Sunday morning we got up late, had breakfast, and then I slept the entire drive home from San Diego, said hi to the cats and climbed into our bed for a two hour nap. I guess I'm trying to stuff in all the REM while I still can. The cats were frantic about us being gone - there was a lot of yeowling, some revenge peeing on the carpet, and just generally being butts. They are crotchety old animals, not like the young 'uns we used to ditch probably two weekends out of the month with an extra bowl of food and an admonition to behave.

Meanwhile, Ellie, Mimi and Pa had many adventures:

Making breakfast!

And lunch as well! Peeling oranges that she picked right from Mimi and Pa's tree

Going to the lake to feed the ducks

Plus some excellent fun in the wading pool!

She was happy to see us when we arrived, but when we tried to take her home she informed us that she wanted to stay at Mimi and Pa's FOREVER! But, they made us take her home.

This morning was our first real day of preschool. We got up with enough time to hang around the house for a bit, had a good breakfast, and then I took Ellie to school, arriving just as they were getting ready to go out to the play ground. I gave her a hug and a kiss, told her I'd be back, and let Miss Laurie pry E's hands from my neck. I just went to the gym, because it needed to be done, and it's only 5 minutes away, so I figured if they needed me, it'd be easy to get back to school. I kept checking my phone, but no emergency calls came. I came home and ate and showered, and then went back at 11:30, figuring that if she was happy, I'd go grab a coffee and come back at pick up time, but she was standing at the door to the play ground crying, and they suggested I take her home with me, which I was fine with. Rome wasn't built in a day. The teachers said she'd done well once she got engaged and that they thought she could stay through lunch next time. When I asked Ellie what she'd done, she told me that she'd cried, she fell outside, and she didn't like preschool. NICE WORK, NEGATIVE NANCY! While I don't doubt that she did indeed cry and fall, I will choose to believe the adults that she did not have a miserable time.

Ch-ch-changes!

We were told that the rabbits we adopted were both boys, and NOW look what's happened!

It's officially March, and tomorrow I'll be 36 weeks pregnant. So while we're hoping to hold out until April, if our little guy decides to come, he's officially far enough along that the doctors will welcome him into the world (and so will we.)

In the meanwhile, we're trying to get our lives ready for our new little life. This week it's meant having Ellie go to preschool for a "visit." We picked a Montessori close to our house, and on Tim's way to work. She'll be going two days a week for the morning session, which will give the baby and I some alone time to bond and explore and live life, and if he decides to spend Ellie's preschool hours napping, it'll give me a few hours of quiet sanity a week. Oh, and I think it'll be good for Ellie too! I feel very lucky that she's had nearly two and a half years of my constant attention, and the love and attention of her wonderful grandparents and aunt and uncle, but it'll be good for her to have to be more independent. To live by the rules of the teacher, and to learn how to get along with other students, without her mommy always there for support. Thursday morning we went in, and I introduced her around and then left. Within five minutes, they'd called me and asked me to come back. So I sat with a tearful Ellie and her teacher, and we played with blocks and books for about an hour. I talked to the teacher about what to do better, to help Ellie ease into things, and she suggested I come back today, since Fridays the classroom has less children, and so she and her co-teacher would be able to devote more one on one time to Ellie. This morning we once again packed her lunch (this time with a photo of her family tucked inside) and headed off. She started crying about as soon as we walked in, and they had to actually pry her little arms from my neck, as my heart quietly broke.

BUT during the hour I was gone, she went outside, got interested in the play ground equipment and the ducks, and enjoyed looking at pictures of animals in the classroom. When I got back an hour later she was crying again, but they assured me that she'd been fine in the interim. Both teachers remarked on how smart and verbal she is, which made me feel good, and assured me that they think she'll be fine in a few days. Monday is her first "full" day of preschool (three hours) so hopefully that will go well. Either way, she's going. Last night I was feeling like a real grade A a-hole about the whole thing, but Tim reminded me that we can't give up because she had one bad hour at preschool. We've got to really give her the chance to adjust, and trust that soon enough she'll be pushing us out of the way to get to her teachers and her activities. And if she's still miserable in a few months, then she doesn't have to go. But I think it's in everyone's best interest that she attend preschool during the first few weeks of her brother's life. It's either that or she can sit at home in front of the TV for hours, while I cry in the back ground.

It's just a lot, and I am having a lot of emotions about everything. If one can have a feeling about something, trust me, I do. IT'S HORMONE CITY UP IN HERE! I'm excited about the baby, I'm terrified to have another newborn, I'm looking forward to meeting him, I'm dreading the exhaustion and the physical strain of the first few weeks, I'm ready to have two little car seats in the car, I'm sad that we have to turn Ellie around in order to fit Tim in the car with her, I'm so ready to see her as a big sister, I feel so guilty that she won't get my undivided attention anymore... There's a lot of bursts of weeping in my house, as you can tell.

In the meanwhile, Tim and I are taking a weekend away to hang out together and enjoy some quiet time before the new baby arrives. Ellie will stay with Mimi (who she continues to tell me takes such good care of her and holds her all the time) and Pa, and Tim and I will relax in San Diego. Hopefully the weeping will be minor, for everyone.