another weekend in ny

We spent the weekend in NY visiting the handyman’s family. Although we did get two beautiful mornings on the beach playing in the sand and watching a group of surfers which made the handyman nostalgic for his high school summers, the majority of time we sat around ‘visiting’ as they say. I was looking forward to T spending time with her cousin Addie who is 2.5 yrs but after her folks drove 2 hours from Connecticut she complained of being tired and it turned out she had a temperature of 102 F so they had to turn around and head home. This also canceled out our ‘Mother’s Day’ plans of driving the next day to Connecticut (2 hours of traffic each way so I wasn’t terribly disappointed) so we ended up with a delightful day at the beach (just the 3 of us) followed by dinner at a local pub a block from my mother-in-law’s enjoying an early start to the evening’s entertainment of karaoke.

T was introduced to all sorts of new foods (Goldfish crackers, pretzels, English muffins, Fig Neutons–see below to see her cramming one gleefully into her mouth) which was fine and I am sure she is sad to be returning to her regular program of Kashi cereal and granola for snacks upon our return.

The flight home was delayed so we spent about 4 hours with a restless toddler hanging out in NY LaGuardia. This will be the last opportunity to fly as ‘infant in lap’ and I must admit I’m relieved as she was a squirm machine the entire flight home.

Mmmmmm….fig neutons!

to vbac or to not to vbac

T was born via Caesarean section. I guess you would call it an ‘emergency’ one since my water broke naturally and I labored for 9 hours. But was it a medical necessity? I honestly don’t know. My OB (who has given birth naturally twice and by c-section once herself) would say it was. But T’s birth story reads almost verbatim from the section on ‘Pitocin’ in Dr. William Sears Birth Book. And when my prenatal yoga instructor (who is also a L&D nurse) stopped by to see how I was doing and I told her I was disappointed about the c-section she responded that by choosing to birth in the hospital (instead of the birthing center with a midwife) I was basically accepting that unless my labor went by the textbook (like arriving 8 cm dilated and delivering an hour later) I was probably going to end up with a medically assisted birth. And you know what? She was right. Would I go back and change it if I could? Again, I honestly don’t know. I don’t really have any friends in town and definitely not any who have given birth. I wasn’t able to find an available doula and the handyman was (to be mild) pretty nervous about everything (for example if I tell him I’m cramping now with this pregnancy his immediate response is “should you go to the hospital?”). The c-section recovery went pretty smoothly. I didn’t realize that you had to ask for the pain meds in the hospital so the first night I actually let them wear off but I didn’t even finish half the ones that were sent home. And I was walking at the dog park a week before my 6 week post-partum okay.

But the question now for me is whether or not to try a VBAC with NB. My OB asked me at my first visit what I wanted to do (I actually think she said “Do you just want to schedule another c-section?”). I told her no; that I was undecided and wanted to just wait and see how things go which she said was fine by her. I have, of course, done some reading on the subject (both pro and con) and I have talked with two women who attempted VBACs both of which I met in my prenatal yoga class, are over 35 and I respect immensely as we have similar parenting and life styles. The first woman I talked with is European and hired a midwife, a doula and had her best friend (an absolute gorgeous Brazilian woman I might add) on hand. She labored a very long time during which she squatted, used the birthing bar, had massage, did meditation and finally when she was physically exhausted her doula had to call it and she ended up with a second c-section. When I asked her opinion she was adamant in her advice: Have a c-section. She blames the long labor and strain from pushing for her incredibly slow and painful recovery. A year later she still feels like she is not back to normal and cannot walk for more than 30 minutes or so without having to sit down and take a break. The second woman I talked to actually had a successful VBAC with a midwife at home. She also labored a long time. Her advice? Have a c-section. She too blames the birth on her very slow and painful recovery. She also feels like a year later she is not back to normal. Don’t get me wrong. She also goes on and on about the birth of her second daughter being the ‘most amazing physical experience of her life’ and recommended that I ‘try to give birth vaginally’ but also thinks if the birth is not progressing quickly I should opt for the knife.

I guess the fact that I am now thinking about the birth of NB is a good thing since it means I have finally come to terms with the fact that I am actually going to give birth to another baby. Still, I don’t know. One thing I am pretty sure about is that I want to go into labor naturally. And maybe I’ll be lucky this time. My water will break and by the time I arrive at the hospital I will be 9 cm dilated and NB will slide easily with a few quick pushes into the world.

nb

I haven’t been posting much and I suppose it is because it is hard to write about your life when you are not writing about the sort of big news in your life which is that I’m having a new baby (NB) due August 1st. Part of my hesitation for talking about it is that it was somewhat of a surprise (I went to my OB last fall about something unrelated and talked to her about my chances of getting pregnant again—which is something both the handyman and I wanted—and she asked how much I was nursing which was 4-5 times a day at that time and declared that I should probably try this spring to get pregnant since I had about an 8% chance considering but I was actually pregnant while I was in her office talking to her about getting pregnant). And then once I passed the relatively safe 12 week mark and was ready to talk about it my QUAD screen came back 1/16 chance for Down’s so we had an amnio and had to wait the full two weeks as there were not enough cells for the 48 hour FISH prelim results which was a very difficult time for me emotionally. Which came back normal but by then I was so used to not talking about it (and finally feeling somewhat better from an exhausting first trimester) that I just didn’t talk about it.

But now I am in that great stage of pregnancy. I can feel all the reassuring kicks, I’m rounding out but not too big (like I can still ride my bike at the dog park!), my blood pressure was a healthy 102/60 and NB’s heartbeat sounded steady and strong this morning at my 26 week visit.

I swing from excitement (there was a 4 day old baby at the OB this morning that was a complete heartbreaker) to massive amounts of concern about how I am going to handle two of these monkeys especially considering T is still a baby herself.

biker girl

A woman I work with gave us this bike seat for T last week and she LOVES it (so do I).  I might actually start liking Pearl again if we can go riding a lot this spring.  I am free of school and ready to have some actual fun!

muck

Finals are approaching and I have been mired in the grading of lab reports and other actual *work* this week. Pearl is acting crazy as she needs to run, run, run and we only made it over to dog park once this week. Remind me never again to get any type of spaniel even the long-legged variety. Right now she is currently panting in my face as I type plus on Wednesday she pooped in the baby’s room (only room with carpet) and then a couple of hours later I was letting T air out and she pooped in her room. So, make that a dog and baby poop clean up day for me. And last night after EarthFest (which was fun to hang outside and I ran into a lot of people I knew from my pre-baby life when I worked in enviro ed) at midnight T woke up and had vomited an adult amount all over the bed. Poor girl. So, I am mired in yuck as well this week plus finishing up work so there it is.

business in the front…

After a month or so of referring to T as ’sheepdog’ (and her refusal to wear a barrette for even a half a second as shown below) I finally broke down and cut her bangs. And I just realized now that I think I gave my baby a mullet.

on sheds and paternalism

In an effort to not appear quite so white trash we decided to have this old shed moved from next to our deck to the back corner of the yard where it could blend in and be engulfed by the overgrown vegetation on the fence. This was not a job the handyman could do with his 2WD Ford pick-up so I asked my mom if she knew anyone and she said “I’ll check with Wes; he owes me a favor.” Wes is my mom’s actual handyman and he is one of those guys that lives close to the mountains in a cabin he built himself who comes into town but can hardly mask his contempt for the suburbanites that he services. He seems like a nice guy but every time I have dealt with him he does have this kind of ‘know it all attitude’ reminiscent of certain snobby hippie types I knew in Oregon but he is definitely more e. TN redneck than hippie so to speak.

Anyway, I asked about cost and my mom again said “Oh, he owes me a favor so don’t worry about it.” When I asked why he owed her a favor (I think I said “Why what did you do?” thinking maybe she loaned him money or gave him something of value) she replied “It is not what I did, it is what he did” but wouldn’t explain. So, for about a week we played phone tag with Wes as he would leave a message on my phone saying “This is Wes, call me tonight at 7:00 pm” so I would tell the handyman to call him and of course he would call a little after 7:00 but Wes never answered so he just ended up leaving a message but always with his cell phone number explaining that I didn’t want to deal with the shed issue so Wes should call him. Except Wes just kept calling me. Eventually they talked and set up a time to move the shed and the handyman met with him to explain where we wanted it and Wes planned to come over the next night after work to move it (the handyman planned to help).

So, after dealing with a feverish, fussy baby all day yesterday I finally got her down for a nap and then the doorbell rings and there stands Wes on my front porch an hour early saying “I’m here to move the shed.” Tess is crying now from the doorbell and I get her and sequester the dogs and then about 20 minutes later look out and the shed has been squired to the back fence but is angled at about 45 degrees because there is a drop off in the yard (we had planned for the shed to be moved not flat against the fence but several yards forward to an even surface and the handyman had planned to be home so he could determine the best placement). I call the handyman and he says “Don’t worry I told him to level it” and I decide to not think about it anymore and get ready for work. Several hours later I return home and go inspect the shed and realize that he didn’t move it forward to level it but just piled wood underneath the back end. And apparently I am some kind of hysterical female for worrying that 1. the wood is going to start to rot (it rains a LOT here) and the shed will go sliding backwards killing one of my dogs or my neighbors behind 2. the soil on the hill may erode from said rain thus sending the shed sliding backwards killing my dogs or my neighbors behind. And it is the perfect height for a child to want to play under so next summer I can add the sled sliding backwards and killing T to my list of worries. But because the wood is ‘treated’ and the soil is ‘red clay’ and Wes says ‘I do this all the time’ I am supposed to be fine with it. Which really I’m not.

So, after a long day with a sick baby, a major fall from a rocking chair backwards onto the wood floor because the springs broke (hitting my head hard because I had to hold on to T instead of using my arms to break the fall), a broken copier at work (and a pissed off full time faculty member basically being rude as hell to me over this) making me late to give my unit 4 test, no lunch and now a somewhat precarious shed situation I end the evening squabbling with the handyman and pissing off my dad who called to see if I liked the new location by asking him ‘what the hell was wrong with Wes?’ (my dad hung up on me).

But I really don’t think I’m crazy (see below and notice the wood in the back corner does not extend the entire rear of the shed but is only about 2 feet long–the other corner has a similar pile):

strawberries

On Saturday T and I were doing some shopping at the local health food supermarket and they had strawberry samples.  I gave her one and she devoured it so I gave her another and then I put a carton of them next to her in the shopping cart and she happily munched them down as we perused the store.  Honestly, if I could have any video to remember her first baby days it would be this scene of her munching strawberries.  So, maybe the fruit and veggie strike is passing.  Last night she was grumpy and I checked her temp and 103.8.  It was a long night and a trip to the pediatrician this a.m. to make sure she is ear infection free (she is) and her temp is still over a 101 right now so we are stuck inside on this (yet again) gorgeous Monday morning.

I wish I had something interesting to post about these days but just don’t it seems.  I really that I have d.s.a.d (daily seasonal affective disorder) meaning my attitude is 180 degrees when the sun is out that is for sure.

suburban dreamin’

Finally some nice weather and it is just gorgeous today.  Our exciting news is that there was an honest to god crystal meth lab bust down the street from us!  As a science person I like to think that I have some pretty decent observational skills but I was oblivious to this house (on a very, very busy street corner that I drive by on a daily basis) and its goings on.  The handyman mentioned that the owners must be crazy to rent to a ‘bunch of guys’ and the owners are probably hurting right now since they are responsible for the clean-up.  The thing is the guys must have been using crystal meth to put a meth lab on that corner in our neighborhood where nosy old bobs (like my mother) notice EVERYthing and gossip.  I hung my cloth diaper clothes line out on our front stoop and had the neighborhood association on my ass in less than a week.  Oh, and it isn’t a real suburban neighborhood association just a self-appointed busy body one.  So, take that all my hip friends who have been giving me crap lately for living the safe ‘burb life.

baby daze

Lately it seems that I can’t get my head out from under it all. The little destroyer just found my school file and within about a minute has distributed the notes & old exams & hard copies of my gradebook for my entire semester course throughout the house. I don’t rely on a lot of notes anymore since I have been essentially lecturing on the same information for 8 years but I had pulled the file to review the plant hormone information that I am to lecture on Tuesday. Plant systems is my least favorite topic anyway (I heart me some plant taxonomy and ecology but an entire lecture on ‘vascular systems of the plant’ just does not get my juices flowing). Lately, my work has not been very satisfying. I was thrilled that I was given 2 online courses and 1 night lecture this semester as it requires no child care but the online teaching takes away the part of teaching that I love (talking about science! and interacting with students face to face) so I am left with mostly grading and emailing. Plus, because I don’t have childcare I end up working at night when I am tired or on the weekends when I want to be having fun. And lately it bothers me how few students are understanding the content in my online class. I just graded the genetics unit and a pretty basic sex linkage problem was missed or misunderstood much more than in the traditional classroom. I realize that just because I love biology not everyone does but just the level of comprehension in this course (a college course at that) is a little disappointing. Plus, if they are not older students I know that they had (or should have had) a lot of this information in high school (and middle school). I guess what bothers me the most is that I find this general lack of knowledge surfacing when I read discussions on my local momblog and thus it makes me feel like I am a failure as a science educator in a sense.

So, the house is a pit (seriously) and my hayfever is driving me insane since I can’t take all those pharmaceuticals being pushed daily as the miracle cure on the TV so I rely on pouring salt solutions up my nose (I really do need a neti pot) and dumping gallons of water on my face when the sneezing start. Today at the dog park I think I sneezed about 30 times in a row. Should I be blaming gibberillins for flowering or ethylene for stimulating flower opening or should I be focusing on the hormone that stimulates pollen production instead? I guess I should find those notes.