23 Months

In just one short month I'll be posting about my baby turning TWO.  Insane.

I've wanted to devote an entire post to the things Baby Girl is saying.  Let me just say that she's talking.  A lot.  She's forming sentences (minus "the", "a", "an"), asking questions (usually minus "what" and "where", such as "Daddy doing?"), using contractions, using pronouns (not necessarily successfully, of course...), singing, counting to 15, and repeating everything that comes out of our mouths...which could be dangerous.

The singing is the best thing, if you ask me.  She can sing all of Twinkle Twinkle Little Star and Jesus Loves Me.  She also sings a good chunk of quite a few other songs.  I love her sweet little voice singing with me.  We finally got a recording of her singing Carmen Ohio with me--so sweet!

Baby Girl officially has 13 teeth.  She has the eight front teeth, top and bottom, her first set of molars, and cut her bottom right eye tooth awhile ago.  No real signs of any other eye teeth yet, though.  She is drooling and chewing still, though, so I'm guessing the bottom left one will cut through sooner than later.  I check for it every night when we brush her teeth.

She's wearing size 2T or 24 months in many clothes now, but many pants are still falling off of her and some capris are too long.  If we had more shorts and capris in 18M, we'd have her wear those.  She must have a longer torso, though, because 18M shirts are too short.

We're still struggling mightily with bedtime.  I can't bring myself to shorten our bedtime routine, as I really cherish that time we get together.  I love reading books with her, praying with her, and singing with her.  She's still crying when I leave, but isn't crying as much when we have a later (not going upstairs until 8:00) bedtime.  I honestly think she's tired before then, but if it cuts down on the crying and she's waking up okay on weekdays, I'm okay with a later bedtime, I suppose.  It does give us time to do more things, like go paint pottery, cook dinner, and still get to have bathtime, like we did last night.  Maybe my kid will stop being dirty all the time now :)

I can't even begin to express what a sweet kid Baby Girl is.  She's quick with a hug and a kiss.  She now has an imagination and loves to play with her baby dolls, diapering them, feeding them, and putting them to bed.  She typically eats like a champ, although her favorite foods are any fruit (besides melon) and anything she can dip in some sort of sauce.  She is drinking a lot more milk than she used to (some days 3 sippy cups full, which is A LOT for her).

Baby Girl is still working on potty training.  She'll go whenever we ask (and typically has some pee to put in the potty), but tells us she has to pee as she's doing it.  We'll get her to the potty (typically after running there) and she'll have a warm diaper.  We'll still let her try, but we explain to her that she already peed.  She's really proud of herself when she does it, though, which we love.  And she's also finally peeing at the sitter's house.  Previously she'd just try and then want down immediately.  She's even trying to poop there.  Woo!

Her favorite phrase is "birdie eat it".  We've created a monster.  When we were eating dinner outside regularly, if she'd drop something, we'd tell her a birdie would eat it because she'd worry about it through the rest of the meal otherwise.  Now she's telling us that birdies are going to eat everything she drops, inside, in the car, outside...everywhere.  And now she's throwing things down specifically FOR the birdies.  We're going to have some fat birdies around our house!

Screw you, mommy

Seriously.  No matter how much time I spend trying to put Baby Girl to bed at night, I feel like she gives me a big ol' Fuck You every single night.  She cries and yells every night.  She's not winding down well, no matter how long we spend trying to have quiet time.  I sing and sing.  We sit in silence.  We read books.  She drinks milk.  We snuggle.  It doesn't matter what I do, she cries.  And it's gotten to the point where I wonder why I bother trying and don't just throw her in her crib, blow her a kiss, and walk out the door.

Argh.

And the worst part?  She's worse for her daddy than she is for me. 

Tooth #13

I'd meant to post this earlier.  Baby Girl is starting to cut her eye teeth now.  From what I understand, they're pretty painful and while she's handling it really well, she does seem to be bothered a little bit.  Saturday, June 11th we were able to confirm that her lower right eye tooth has broken through.  The spots for the others haven't even started to swell, but we know that doesn't necessarily mean anything (some teeth gave us no warning and just cut through without any swelling).

Once she's done with these, all she'll have left for awhile (I think) are her two-year molars.  Never thought my kid would be behind the curve on getting her teeth--my orthodontist told me I was the youngest patient he'd had with wisdom teeth.  (and no, before you think it, I am absolutely NOT worried about her teeth!)

Weight Loss Update: 216ish

I'll tell you a secret...I only weigh myself in the morning, before my shower, after I go Number Two.  If I don't need to go Number Two, I won't weigh myself that morning.  Last week was rough--I only had to go TWICE last week.  I think my body is saying, "No!  Please don't go, food!  We'll find a place for you!"

Anyway, I weighed myself this morning (the goal was to weigh myself Monday or Tuesday morning) and the first time I got 216.2.  I wasn't really centered on the scale, though, and thought the number should probably be higher so I tried again.  Honestly, I do it multiple times because my scale isn't particularly consistent.  The second time, I got 215.4.  Being the geek that I am, I knew I needed to find out which was closer to right, so I stepped back on the scale--215.4.

I'm calling it 216ish.  I'd last weighed myself and was 220, so this means I actually lose a point this week.  And if I were going to meetings, we'd celebrate "New Numbers!" (meaning I'm not in the 220's and am now in the 210's).

Hoping to see the 200's soon and I cannot wait to see a 1 in the front of that.  Onederland is a good place to be.  Of course, by the time that happens, I'll probably be trying to get pregnant again... 

I'm averaging 1.5 pounds per week, which is pretty good for me.  It's not Biggest Loser fast, but I'm able to be happy with what I'm eating and splurge a bit sometimes, too.  Of course, I haven't seen the results of this past weekend yet (that usually doesn't happen until Tuesday or Wednesday for me).  I was really, really good on Saturday, but Sunday ate a few too many sweets and then Outback Steakhouse for dinner.  Oh well--all I can do is move on.  Today is a new day!

My huge milestone

(I apologize for any cursing in this post beforehand.  In real life, I have a potty mouth and it really comes out when I'm feeling a strong emotion.)

I cannot believe it.  This 220 pound, size 16W woman did it.  I just jogged for 20 minutes without stopping. 

I fucking did it.

Even in the best shape of my life, I don't think I ever jogged more than 1/4 mile without stopping.  And tonight I jogged 1.3 miles.  Without stopping to walk.  Without succumbing to the cramp in my calf.  Without catching my breath.

Wow.  Totally shocked.

Something I did discover?  It's my brain that was holding me back all those years ago.  If I can do it now, I definitely could've done it then.  And I'm so damned happy I found that inside me today.

I think we're going to try the run again soon (technically the program says we should do more running and walking for week 6 day 1), only we're going to try to push the pace a little.  4 mph is really slow--some people can walk that fast.  But you know what?  I DID IT. 

Weekends are going to kill me

I find myself really struggling with my weight loss over the weekends.  I do really well during the week but we've been incredibly busy during the weekends and have either been away from home or too exhausted to cook.

Take this past weekend, for instance.  On Saturday my parents came up and we went out to lunch. But then we got to the evening and didn't have dinner plans (we thought we would be doing something for dinner Saturday that then got switched to Sunday), so we ran out.  Sunday The Hubby's parents were at our house and they brought bologna salad and chips for lunch.  There were donuts for breakfast.  There were cookies around.  We had pizza for dinner because everyone was exhausted from working.

I made the best choices I could in bad situations--I had half a cookie.  I only had a few chips.  Used my light bread for my bologna salad sandwich.  Got a salad and a light lunch on Saturday.  Worked out on Saturday.

I just have a feeling, though, that it isn't going to do any good.  I do my best during the weekend but still feel like I need to put forth more effort.  This coming weekend we'll be back at the in-laws' house for the whole weekend again and I'll have little control.  Again.

I'm doing the best I can, but how can everyone else splurge on the weekends and hover at slightly pudgy or overweight while I'm in the obese category and analyzing every damn bite?  I guess I end up feeling sorry for myself sometimes.  Why do *I* have to work so damned hard at this?

The Test

I've been experiencing some symptoms recently. I had written it off to feeling weird after being sick, but when they went away and came back, I started considering it could be something else.  I have been nauseous, had headaches, been dizzy, and been utterly exhausted.  After describing them to The Hubby, I realized that those symptoms sounded a little...familiar.

Trust me when I say that me being pregnant is EXTREMELY unlikely.  Between preventative measures and not much...action, there is a VERY low chance of pregnancy in this house.  But I bought a test last night anyway.  I stressed about whether to get the two-pack or just one and got the two-pack so I'd have them for when we actually start trying (note to self--go ahead and invest in the internet cheapies or at least some of the Dollar Store tests!).

I tried to take it after getting home from the grocery and even after a large mug of water and sitting around for three hours, I didn't have enough pee to run the test.  So I stuck the test in my pocket and planned to try the next morning, not knowing if a test would work again (no control line or anything).  I don't know why I felt so secretive, but I didn't mention it to The Hubby.

In the morning I peed.  I sat.  I stared.  I wasn't even sure how I was feeling.  Part of me was hopeful that it would be positive.  I kept looking at it over and over again, sort of hoping to see that second line.  But I didn't.  I wasn't exactly sad, but I wasn't exactly relieved either. 

I think I could be okay with getting pregnant, but still don't think I'm ready to start trying again.  I'm not ready to give up my indepedence and controlling my own body.  I'm not ready to get on that TTC roller coaster yet, either.  I think the part of me that would have been happy to be pregnant was the part that doesn't want to go through the testing, the thinking, the actual trying of it all.  It wouldn't be all bad to have a happy surprise.

Hi! Again.

Last year when we took our vacation (Baby Girl was just over a year old), Baby Girl's favorite word was "hi!"  She'd say it to everyone we passed.

She's doing it again.  And she's relentless.  Even if they say hi back, she keeps saying it over and over again.  It's nice because I used to say "can you say hi?" and she'd wave a little wave.  Now she yells "HI!!"

It's pretty cute, but sort of embarrassing sometimes, like when she's screaming at some delivery men while we take a walk.

The first time I wasn't so sure I want to have a girl

When we found out we were pregnant, I was hoping so much for a girl.  I love being a girl most of the time.  I love the versatility of it--I can be athletic, get dirty, but also wear dresses and makeup.  So when we found out we were having a girl, I was relieved and excited and have really enjoyed it so far. 

Recently, though, the smallest bit of doubt entered my mind.  Can I really handle all that raising a girl entails?  How do I make sure she grows up being confident and loving herself, no matter what she looks like?  How do I help her through body image issues that have plagued me my entire life? 

You see, Baby Girl picked up my makeup brush and started to try to apply makeup to herself like she's seen me do many times.  How do I explain makeup?  How do I explain that Mommy wears it to cover up all her imperfections and to help her feel more attractive?  How do I tell her that she doesn't ever *need* makeup?  I wear it almost every day and I know that action will make a bigger impression than telling her that we don't need makeup to be beautiful. 

How do I let my actions speak to her and let her know that she's beautiful, no matter what?  How do I tell her, with my own actions, that her size doesn't matter, that she can embrace curves and love her body, no matter what size it is?  I'm not comfortable in my own skin and I fear that she'll realize that.  I'm taking steps to take care of my body, but will I ever be happy with it?  And even if I'm not, how I make sure Baby Girl loves her own body and face?

Potty Training Update

Potty training is still going on.  We're at the point where Baby Girl is peeing on the potty at least once a day.  This past weekend it was 4 times on Saturday and 3 on Sunday.  She hasn't really been asking to go, but will typically try when we ask her.  If she says no, we drop it.

When she does go, though, we have a reward system (that we aren't great about adhering to, but it still works).  We give a sticker for trying and money for putting pee in the potty.  She typically gets five pennies for peeing, which she then gets to count out and put into her piggy bank.  If we're around my parents, they'll give her some bigger money (my dad recently gave her a $5 bill!) for going potty, too. 

Our sitter says that next week when she's down to four kids on her busiest days (Tuesday through Thursday--Monday she'll have three and Friday just two) she's going to focus more on working on potty training with Baby Girl.  She says she thinks she can have it done in three days.  More power to her :)  If it doesn't happen, though, I won't be horribly upset--it is still really early.

Smarty McSmartyPants

Time to brag about my baby...if you don't want to hear it, move along :)

This weekend we were spending time with The Hubby's family and Baby Girl was coloring with The Hubby's cousin's kids (ages 3-6).  One little boy, who is starting kindergarten in August, was trying to sing his ABC's.  He kept getting stuck after E.  It was obvious he knew the phrases, but just kept mixing them up.  I felt a little sad, honestly, because I know his parents don't work on it with him at all.

And then Baby Girl did something that made me so excited and proud.  After he'd say "E", she started singing "F-G-H-I-J-K-L-(some noise that was supposed to sound like M-N-O)-P".  Atta girl!

Couch to 5K Update

Even though we've been doing this for three or four months now, we've just moved onto week #5.  Since The Hubby and I are doing this together, we also need to take Baby Girl with us, which means the weather has to be okay and she needs to not be too cranky.  And it has to be before her bedtime (it would be nice to be able to go running around 8 or 9 now that Central Ohio has turned on Summer, but she's in bed at that point).

We're taking it slow, but this run was a HUGE ramp-up from Week #4 Day #3 (there are 3 running days per week).  You can see the whole plan here.

We went from jogging for no longer than 3 minutes (alternating with 90 second jogs) to jogging for three separate 5 minute stretches!  For someone who has never been good at or liked running, that's a big difference.

But you know what?  I finished it.  And I'm really damn proud of myself for it.  I posted it on Facebook and was so excited by the comments I got (including a "like" from the guy I dated before The Hubby who loved to run and I think always wanted me to run with him).  It also reminded me, though, of how much I've changed since college.  I can't really explain it, but I could feel the judging non-comments from some of my college Facebook friends who I participated in athletic activities with and who used to judge me for being bigger at that point and it made me self-conscious about how much weight I've gained (and lost and gained and lost and gained....) since then. 

And then I stopped feeling that way and realized that I'm living my life the way that makes me happy now.  And I'm doing something that good for me and I should be proud!  So I am.  Who cares where I came from or how I got here--I'm here and I'm trying to make myself better.  So you know what?  Go me!

22 Months

On May 29th Baby Girl turned 22 months old and I want to briefly update about her development.

It's much harder to describe the changes that she's going through at this point--it was much easier when she was walking, rolling, and sitting.

Our sitter claims Baby Girl has had a language explosion but I think The Hubby and I would say it happened closer to 21 months.  She's definitely using phrases and sentences a lot more and rarely communicates with only one word.

My favorite thing (I think) that she's doing right now is singing.  Just tonight, for instance, she sang almost all of the ABCs with me.  She didn't get all the individual letters right, but said something for each of them.  She sings Mary Had a Little Lamb and says all the repeating lines.  She also sings pieces of Itsy Bitsy Spider and Wheels on the Bus, complete with hand motions for both.  She still insists on If You're Happy and You Know It in the can, but has started playing tricks on Mommy and not actually doing the actions you're supposed to do.  The silence after I say "Shout 'Hooray!'" cracks her up and she will laugh for about 5 minutes afterwards.

Speaking of the car....we still battle the car regularly.  Baby Girl always claims that her "buckle hurts" and wants to get up.  She always wants entertainment from one of us as well--either singing, reading a good, holding a finger, playing "Hide Seek" (covering her eyes and saying "I can't find her anywhere!")...you get the idea.

The major thing that can keep her occupied in the car, though, is looking for buses or big trucks.  She loves them.  I'm actually pretty nervous about car rides now that school is out and we won't be seeing too many "big yellow bus" anymore.

Baby Girl's eating has gotten worse.  I'm not sure if she's just not as hungry or if she's getting pickier.  She just recently started refusing broccoli, which was one of her favorites for awhile.  She also seems to be starving on the way home from the sitter's so we give her her afternoon snack that she didn't finish and we're wondering if this is filling her up enough that she's not hungry for dinner.  We're hoping she isn't getting too picky--we've always been really pleased with how many different things she would eat.

We're pretty much at status quo for pottying.  She's peeing in the potty about once a day, but we typically have to ask her if she wants to try.  Sometimes she'll try and sometimes she'll refuse.  We don't push.  We've been giving stickers as a reward for trying and money (typically five pennies) as a reward for actually peeing in the potty.  The sitter will have almost half as many kids in a week, so she plans to focus on potty training at that point with her, which we really appreciate.  I hope Baby Girl is ready. 

Baby Girl is still refusing Daddy a lot.  We have to reason with her and tell her that there are two parts to bedtime--changing diaper/pjs and the everything we do upstairs--and that Mommy will do one and Daddy will do one.  We typically have a tantrum (which is fairly mild compared to what I hear from other parents of kids her age) before she gives in and lets Daddy change her diaper and pjs.  Her refusal of Daddy makes both of us incredibly sad.

Baby Girl is definitely discovering her will and opinions, for better or for worse.  A lot of the parts of this age are sweet.  She's loving, still snuggly, curious, adorable (seriously--you need to hear this kid say "okee-dokee"), and fun.  But she's also very opinionated and strong-willed and because of that we butt heads a lot.  I am typically exhausted by the end of the day, especially when she fights bedtime every.single.night.  But I love her truly and deeply and only want the best for her.  Only two more months until she's two.  Wow.

Edited to add some things I forgot:

Baby Girl is now navigating stairs entirely standing really well.  We still try to spot her sometimes, but she does a really good job.

Baby Girl is still technically wearing 18 month stuff, but we didn't buy any summer 18 month stuff, so we're having to use safety pins on some of her 24 month/2T bottoms.  The tops are fine and the dresses seem fine but the pants are long and pretty big in the waist.

Ear Tubes

When we went to the pediatrician on May 16th as a follow-up to Baby Girl's EIGHTH ear infection, we knew what we would probably leave the appointment with.  A referral to an ENT.

While this ended up being true, it didn't come readily.  Our pediatrician is pretty conservative and let us make the decision about whether to move onto the ENT or not.  He said that it was possible that Baby Girl would grow out of needing tubes (most kids don't need them after the age of 2) and because we were getting into the summer months, it was likely she wouldn't have as many colds as well.  We decided, though, that since she'd had two ear infections (both double, I think) within three weeks and STILL had fluid in her ears from the last one, we should go talk to the ENT.  Our pediatrician assured us that the ENT wouldn't push for tubes if Baby Girl didn't really need them (I was worried that if we visited with a specialist he would push to do his specialty).

I called for the appointment and we were able to get in just a few days later, on May 19th.  We met with the doctor, who was incredibly nice and great with Baby Girl, and after hearing our history and looking at her he told us that he'd like to put tubes in.  We asked him our questions about him being sure this was the best course of action and everything and he assured us that she'll be a lot happier and healthier with the tubes.  We talked about her vocabulary already being ahead for her age and he said, "But how much better could it be?"  The biggest selling point to me was that we could then treat any future infections with drops applied directly to her ears rather than systemic oral medications that she can build up a resistance to.

We were given the option of a surgery date of May 31st or June 14th (the doctor only does surgeries on Tuesdays and would be out of town on the 7th) and we chose May 31st.  Better to get it done as soon as possible.

I submitted information about Baby Girl's medical history.  About 5 days before the surgery was scheduled, Baby Girl's nose started running and a cough started.  I called the ENT's office, fearful that the surgery would be cancelled due to her cold.  They told us that generally a cold won't be a problem but that the anesthesiologist would look her over when we got checked on to be sure.  We got the call on Thursday the 23rd that we were set for a 7:45 surgery, which meant a 6:45 arrival time.  Early, but good since Baby Girl couldn't eat or drink after midnight. 

Monday night.  Insert sickness for Mommy.  Blech.  I was determined to be there for the surgery, though.

The Hubby and I got up around 5:30.  We needed to be on the road by 6:15 and were planning to just wake Baby Girl and walk her directly out to the car.  I went out to get the car running and The Hubby got her up--she looked awake and happy enough as he walked her out the car.  Thank goodness!

We drove to the center without any drama and got there and registered.  We filled out a little bit of paperwork and sat down.  I still wasn't feeling great, so I sat and watched some TV while The Hubby took Baby Girl to the play area.  He tried to change her diaper, but as has been the trend recently, she wanted "Mommy DO IT!"  So I did. 

By the time I emerged with a diapered child, the nurse was ready to take us back.  We walked into a room with 6 partitioned spaces--two of which had a hospital-type crib.  We sat Baby Girl up in the crib and talked to the nurse (who was fabulous with Baby Girl).  After just another minute, the anesthesiologist came in to talk to us and to take a look at Baby Girl.  She said she sounded good and that her cold was still just in her throat and therefore wouldn't cause any problems with going forward with the surgery (thank goodness).  She asked for a snack a few times and we just told her we couldn't give her anything and she returned to whatever she was doing (thank goodness--this was the biggest anxiety-producer for both of us that morning--we thought we would have a tantruming toddler on our hands when we couldn't give her food).  A nurse returned and asked how Baby Girl was at taking medicine and we told her that she typically takes it really well.  She handed me a large syringe with a red medicine that turned out to be a sedative (I knew it was coming, but wasn't sure that this was it) and Baby Girl sucked it down--I didn't even need to push on the plunger.

We sat Baby Girl in the crib and waited for her to get loopy.  We didn't have to wait long.  The first sign we saw was that she couldn't quite sit up.  Then her eyes started getting glassy and she started getting the stares.  It was really amusing, actually.  Not long after, a nurse returned to take her to surgery.  She went easily to the nurse and we headed back to the waiting room.  We had to pass Baby Girl and the nurse on the way out and I started to tear up, but we didn't let her see us.  We sat down and read the post-operative care booklet, talked for a bit, watched some TV, and then I went to pee.  By the time I was done, they'd come to get us.

We walked back toward the room where we'd first taken Baby Girl, but were told to turn another direction.  We were meeting with Dr. K.  He told us that they found a double ear infection while they were in there (the way he started to talk, it seemed like he was going to give us bad news...I felt my heart skip a beat as he started) and that we would need to give her ear drops to help clear that up.  I asked if everything was okay otherwise and he said she did great.  He confirmed that she can swim in the ocean (we're currently trying to decide what to do for a vacation and this was a concern we had) and gave us some instructions about what things we need to do to care for her ears while she has the tubes.  Then we were sent back to wait for awhile longer.

We talked to another couple, who was actually someone I'd gone to high school and played in band with--what a small world, as neither of us lives in the same town that we went to high school in!  They were called back while we were sitting there and we just watched a little more TV.  We probably waited about 5-10 minutes before they called us back and said she was just starting to wake up.

When we walked back to the room with all the partitions, I saw her laying in a blonde nurse's arms, just starting to stir--so sweet.  I was so glad someone was holding her--they didn't move that bed at all, actually.  I took her from the nurse and sat in the rocking chair with her.  As a nurse started to talk to us (I honestly don't remember what she said), Baby Girl was waking up and fighting to get down onto the floor.  She could barely hold her head up, so I knew I couldn't let her try to sit or walk on her own yet and she didn't seem to understand that she didn't have control of her body.  We eventually got her down on the floor with The Hubby, but she still wanted to walk.  She fell over two times from a sitting position and her head hit the floor both times--ouch!  She still wanted to walk and wouldn't let us help her ("SELF!!!"), but we knew we had to.  This lead to a really big battle.  We finally got her to sit still by giving her something to drink.  She couldn't hold the cup up to her mouth well, but refused any help I offered, so we just watched her struggle.  She eventually got it, though, and guzzled about eight ounces of apple juice pretty quickly.  She said she wanted a snack so we gave her some Cheerios (which she also struggled to get into her mouth, much to the amusement of her daddy and me) and some pieces of cereal bar. 

She drained what apple juice we'd brought her, so I went to get her something else to drink.  They had juice available, so I put more into her cup.  And then she got sick.  Poor kiddo.  The nurse was in there with us and helped us get her cleaned up and was so sweet to her.  My kid, though, had no idea what had happened.  She just wanted to get up and go some more (puke and rally, as my husband would say....).  Can't keep this kid down!  The nurse told us that if we felt comfortable taking her home, we could, so The Hubby went to pull the car around.  Baby Girl and I went walking since she was really restless and another nurse offered her a Thomas sticker.  Since Baby Girl was topless at this point, the nurse was putting her sticker on the teddy bear they gave us when she vomited again.  It mostly got on the floor, but I took her back to where we were...and then she got sick again.  Ugh.  This can't be good.

The nurse went and told The Hubby that he should just park and we wouldn't be leaving yet and then went to talk to the anesthesiologist.  She gave her a suppository for the nausea (ugh...not an experience I want to remember).  We were just trying to keep Baby Girl contained, but she REALLY wanted to peek at the other kids in the room.  One was someone that sounded younger than her and had a baby in a carrier with him ("Baby!  Baby!") and the other was a bigger girl who she did successfully intrude upon.  The nurse saw what a struggle we were having and, knowing we were going to have to hang out for awhile longer, put us into a room with a TV. It also had a couple of trucks that Baby Girl played with on the floor and we watched Mickey Mouse Clubhouse (one of her favorite shows).  We got in there right around 9:00, at the start of the show.  When we entered the TV room, she still couldn't walk well, but by the end, at 9:30, she was doing the Hot Dog Dance with pretty good balance.

We had cleaned up a poopy diaper (which used our last diaper...) and watched half of another Mickey when they told us that we could go.  The Hubby got the car and a nurse walked us out.  Everyone we dealt with was WONDERFUL--they were all so incredibly good with Baby Girl and told us how sweet and adorable she was. 

The drive home was uneventful.  I sat with Baby Girl in the back and we called my mom and we sang Mary Had a Little Lamb (Baby Girl will say the parts that repeat like "little lamb little lamb" in time), The Wheels on the Bus, and The Itsy Bitsy Spider.  She was totally normal by the time we got home. 

It was a good day.  It wasn't as easy as many people had led me to believe (we waited longer than most people told us we would, it seems), but it wasn't bad at all.  So thankful for the great people who helped us out.  And now we know not to let Baby Girl drink so much after anesthesia :)

Mother's Day

(Another stupid post that didn't publish when scheduled...)

A choppy rendition of my Mother's Day (I'm guessing when I first wrote it I'd intended to just write all the events out, then edit, then publish...which obviously didn't happen)
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Got to sleep in.

As I was getting up, heard the garage door go up and The Hubby and Baby Girl brought me a yogurt parfait and half a hash brown (or the whole thing if I'd wanted it) from McD's.  I was given a card and told that they were going to do the laundry and grocery shopping for me.  The laundry wasn't that far from being done, so that part made me laugh.

The weather was looking nice, so we packed up and headed to the zoo.

Drove up there and found there was an event for Mother's Day with some freebies.  The zoo was busier than it had been when we'd gone before, but not horrible (we got there less than a half hour after open and normally go during the week). 

Saw elephants (twice), all sorts of monkey, kangaroos (with Baby Girl hopping like them down the path and asking each of them to hop for her), lorakeets, koala, and some people dressed as animals.  She was willing to blow them kisses, but not give high fives and definitely not hugs.  We rode the carousel twice--the first time she was the only one riding.  We had to convince her that the playground was too big for her. She got out of the stroller for awhile and walked and did pretty well staying close to us.  We had a hot dog (she ate a whole one and The Hubby and I split one) before we left.  The Hubby read to her in the backseat so she wouldn't fall asleep.
Got home and had a little fussing before naptime (NO NAP!!!), but I got her put down a little after 1:30 and then The Hubby and I had leftovers from the night before (Montgomery Inn ribs and Saratoga Chips).  We sat and watched silly TV and just relaxed, thinking this nap would be short like all the others for the last few weeks.  Instead, she slept until 3:55.  Well over a 2 hour nap--guess she needed it!  We went outside and played on the new (to us) swingset--The Hubby pushed her in the swing for at least a half hour while we listened to Pandora on his iPhone.  Baby Girl started singing Jesse's Girl along with us and I even got her making some of the noises from Bad Romance.  Adorable!  We packed up the car for a "picnic" and went to Sonic.  We parked near some grass so Baby Girl could get out and run.  She devoured her corn dog (first one ever) and some of her apples while sitting in the big chair in the middle row.  She loves sitting there and throws a bit of a fit whenever we have to put her in her carseat. 

We drove home and had a "treat" of banana cream pudding that I'd made the day prior for Daddy's birthday.  She ate it up and we played for a bit longer before it was bedtime.  She let Daddy take her upstairs to try to potty and put on her pjs.  I thought she was going to finally let him do all of bedtime, so I started making a grocery list, but then heard "mommy" and knew I needed to go put her down.  Not the worst thing in the world :)

I ended up having to do my grocery planning and shopping by myself (although, as I explained to The Hubby, I don't mind the shopping if I'm by myself...it's the planning and then juggling a toddler and coupons).  The laundry didn't get done.  But I had the best day I could've imagined, which was something I needed desperately.

More sickness

I've been debating about how to relay this and have decided to make it its own blog post rather than combining with Memorial Day (which may or may not get written...) and with Baby Girl's surgery post (which will come very soon).

If you don't want to hear some TMI stuff about bodily functions, stop reading now.  You've been warned.

To get to my parents' house we take a very windy, hilly road and I may or may not have been going a little fast on it this past Saturday.  You see, there is typically a semi or some other slowpoke in front of me, preventing me from even going 55 mph, so when I get the chance to cruise, I typically take it.  We were driving along, having a nice car ride, when Baby Girl got sick.  The Hubby was riding in the passenger seat and leaned back to comfort her while I found a good place to pull over.  We stopped and got her cleaned up and as we were stopped we realized there was a State Highway Patrollman (woman) about 100 feet away with someone pulled over.  As we were consoling Baby Girl and letting her walk a little bit, the patrol-person came over to see if we were okay.  We assured her we were as she ran our plates, probably checking to be sure we hadn't stolen this little girl :)  After she confirmed that we hadn't, she gave me the best route (or, rather, I technically asked her if X would be the best route) back to a smoother road.  We loaded up a naked baby, headed back to that road and the rest of the weekend went smoothly.  Baby Girl didn't eat as well as she typically does but I just rationalized that it was a toddler-ism, not that she was sick.  I figured she had gotten sick because of the car or maybe from the snot in her belly (yes...another cold....), not any sort of stomach virus.

Fast forward to Monday night.  Around dinner time I started to feel nauseous.  I ate my dinner but had to force down the second piece of corn on the cob (it was really good corn for late May!).  As the evening went on, I felt increasingly sick.  Around the time The Hubby and I went to bed, I was feeling much worse and ended up getting sick.  I came out of the bathroom and told him he'd better go sleep somewhere else.  He'd had no idea that I'd gotten sick...so I guess that's good.  I didn't get sick again but was up throughout the night feeling nauseous and going to the bathroom, if you know what I mean.  Whenever I was awake I was just praying that I'd feel good enough to go to Baby Girl's surgery--I was NOT missing it.  It was pretty bad but I did get to sleep from 2:30 to 5:15, which was when The Hubby woke me up to head to the surgery center.  I took some Kaopectate (that stuff works seriously well--I'll never take Immodium again) and we left.  I felt nauseous all day and didn't really eat a whole lot, but didn't get sick or anything anymore (thank goodness).  I did end up falling asleep with Baby Girl sitting with me on the couch and then napped while she napped.  I was awake long enough to hang out with her a bit and try to eat some dinner and then went upstairs after not feeling well after dinner.  I ended up laying down and slept from about 7 until the alarm went off this morning at 6:30.  Wow.  I woke up intermittently, of course, to say goodnight to Baby Girl, to talk to The Hubby, and to feel nauseous (but never had to get out of bed).  I still feel exhausted and somewhat nauseous, but am finally getting some water and food into my system and am back at work today. 

Ugh.  And now I'm just praying that The Hubby doesn't get it.  It's not as bad as it could be, but it's not fun, either.  We're heading out of town this weekend and I know the after-effects would last that long if he gets it now.  Can we please be done with sickness?  Seriously.  It's June.