The Madcap Adventures of Mama Grouch and The Creep

Home from the Hospital

We came home from the hospital on Monday and have been taking it verrry easy since then. It is amazing how capable you can feel shuffling around a hospital room ("I can make it to the bathroom by myself, I am healed!") just to find out that the world outside that little 15 x 15 space is an awful lot bigger. And has stairs.

For the most part the pain from the surgery is pretty much contained, I had them switch me from Percocet to Vicodin because I was one of the lucky few with the "rare side effect" of horrible nightmares on the Percocet. The main issue now is just the exhaustion from every day activities. The EP and the Twerp and I have been taking a walk every day, yesterday we went all the way around the block which was a huge accomplishment. I swear that by the end of the walk we were going so slow that we were practically walking backwards, and I had to take a nap when we got home, but I made it. It is frustrating because there are so many things I would rather be doing than sitting in bed but I can't. The EP has been amazing - doing all the dishes and laundry and bringing me things from downstairs (the bathroom is upstairs so the kiddo and I spend about 90% of our time up here) I am really lucky that he is able to take this time off of work to help out. Our friend Cookie has arranged for friends to bring food every other day for most of the month and it has helped out so much, we have been eating like royalty. On the plus side I got to ride around in one of those little rascal scooters at Target. It beeps when you back up.

On the way home from the Hospital we stopped by Noni and Gramp's house to have lunch with the Creep. It is bitter sweet that he is having such a great time there that there is not an itsy bitsy little part of him that wants to come home. On the one hand it has been so much easier getting adjusted to home life with just the Twerp, on the other hand what is this, don't you love your mother? What am I, chopped liver? Apparently.

He is just enchanted by the Twerp and will just stare at her for minutes on end (which is hours in toddler world). I had pumped some milk while at the hospital so he got a chance to feed her with the EP's help, though he really wanted to "do it myself". I ask him in this video "how did the baby come out" because I have heard rumors that he will say "baby sister comes out like this raspberry noise" but I wasn't able to get it on camera. I will keep trying.

As grateful as I am to Gramps for taking such good care of the Creep, I might have to limit his contact with the Twerp. He seems to be a bad influence. After less than 5 minutes hanging out with him she had already started throwing around gang signs. Shame on you Gramps, gang life is your choice, not ours.

Maggie

We are very proud to introduce all of you to our daughter Maggie Mary Florence (forever after to be known here as "The Twerp"). Her two middle names, Mary and Florence, are for her two Maternal Great-Grandmothers - two very strong and wonderful women. She has greatness in her name.

Specs:

Born July 4th, 7:21am
9lbs 3 oz (big)
20 1/2 inches long
14 inch head
Black Hair (lots)
Brown Eyes (two)
Ten Fingers
Ten Toes (very long)

She is a very sweet little girl who has been sleeping (and letting her parents sleep) the majority of the day and night. It took her a couple of hours to really give nursing a chance, but now is firmly pro-breastfeeding. She has the most adorable little dimple in one of her cheeks and loves cuddling with her papa (who I think is completely smitten).

The Creep has been so excited for "baby sister to come out" that he took us leaving for the hospital in stride. Of course it helped that he loves hanging out with Noni and Gramps, not to mention the added bonus that all four of his boy cousins were in town for the weekend also staying at Noni and Gramps (brave grandparents). I am pretty sure he hasn't really noticed that we haven't come home yet. He got to meet his "own baby sister" yesterday and held her and stroked her hair and was completely fascinated the whole time.

My water broke at around 3pm on ~~Wednesday~~ Thursday (thanks for the catch Janel), which was terrific timing because we were at Noni and Gramps house with both the Creep and the dog and the hospital bag (just in case) so we didn't have to go home and were able to go straight to the hospital (since it was a VBAC they wanted us at the hospital sooner than later) where our Doula, Leslie, was waiting for us. We walked around and around (and around) the hallways of the Maternity Ward but failed to start any real contractions. At 10pm they started me on a very low dose of pitocin and I started having regular contractions right around midnight. We labored until around 6:30am when it became unfortunately clear that baby girl was OP (just like her big brother) and over 9lbs (just like her big brother) and we were going to have to have a C-Section (just like...you guessed it...her big brother). I was disappointed but when I saw my little baby girl it stopped mattering how she came about.

If you want, there is video here of her actual birth (don't worry, it is pretty much blood and gore free and completely private parts free) if you are feeling adventurous.

I got a chance to talk to the OB that performed the surgery and she told me that she thought that my pelvis was shaped in a way that made it easier for the babies to present OP, which made me feel much better. I really did do everything I could to avoid the C-Section, including foregoing an epidural and changing positions often to try to get her to turn around. Ultimately I am trying to look on the bright side...if we have another baby I get to pick their birthday when I schedule the C-Section!

One of the greatest parts of this story: Not only was the Twerp born on the 4th of July...that is also my mom's birthday! She even looks like her grandma. Happy Birthday Mom, I got you a baby!

Due Date

Dear Baby,

Really, I can tell that you are all comfy cozy and stuff but I, strangely, am not. When you snuggle down into your little womb punching my uterus into just the right shape, I get a little testy. Especially because most of the time you are punching my very private parts from the inside and that just feels weird.

I am ready for you to come out. See:

I have pretty toes. Everyone assures me that once you get the pedicure the baby will follow. I even splurged and got cute little flowers.

Is that not enough? What about the gorgeous weather that we are having right now?

Your older brother would really like you to come out and hang, and I wouldn't mind having my own personal heater removed from my torso. You are the opposite of central A/C. I told him that you would be coming soon, maybe tomorrow, maybe next week. He said "No want the baby sister comin' next week, want her comin' tomorrow." Ditto for the rest of us.

I have even turned to substituting other objects that are your approximate size and weight:

I am obviously desperate. Help me out here.

Not to mention the multitude of people who obviously view June 30th as some sort of magic day - I have had more phone calls in the last 24 hours than I have the entire previous 9 months. I want to be able to tell them something.

Please come out.

Love,
Yer Mama
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Dear Hospital that is sending me weekly emails,

This is not funny:

Sincerely,
Mama Grouch

Papa Rocks

I have been tired, cranky, cranky and tired. I pick battles with the Creep that are not worth picking, and he and I have both been driven to tears more than once over something as minor as putting on his shoes (or the fact that he took them off 10 seconds after I had finally gotten them on him...no mean feat with a belly as big as mine).

Luckily, the EP stepped up to the plate and has been helping out so much that once or twice I have even felt like a normal person. Generally we split up kiddo duties pretty evenly, but recently EP has been the primary parent from Friday evening until Sunday afternoon, including all meals and nap/bedtime routines. I find that on Monday mornings the Creep and I get along wonderfully and I have so much more energy to deal with the little stuff. Evenings that used to be my responsibility are now often "family nights" and the EP does his own stuff after putting the kiddo to bed. Makes me tear up just thinking about how tired I would be if he wasn't helping out so much.

Father's day weekend the EP took the Creep on his very first over night camping trip (that is the picture at the top) and they had a blast. I took myself out to dinner and slept in. It was terrific.

Thanks babe.*

*Even though I know it is partially in self defense because I am a bit of a monster when I don't get a break, I still appreciate it.

The List

I am compiling a list, the hard way, of things that I will no longer do before this baby makes her debut:

1. I will no longer invite anyone over to my house. I will, with much gratitude, accept any and all invitations to playdates at other people's houses, for lunch, for trips to the park, but I will not be doing housework until this is all over so no one sets foot through my front door (unless they are holding a vacuum cleaner).

2. No critical thinking. This includes making any sort of decision about what to eat beyond a peanut butter and jelly sandwich, what to do with my day other than watching 20 episodes of Curious George, and any and all math. I will gratefully allow anyone to lead me to good food as long as I can hand them a $20 and they hand me back change (or not, I am easy).

3. No stopping to 'pick something up' on the way home. I don't care if it is a cup of coffee or some other life saving item, I just Will Not Do It.

4. No walking to Dairy Queen by myself with a toddler on a bike on a stick. Really, this one needs no explanation.

5. No getting down on my hands and knees to draw on the sidewalk with chalk Many thanks to Gwyneth for stopping me before I learned this one the hard way. I might still be down on my hands and knees.

The list is growing; every day I add something new and interesting that should Have Been Obvious but somehow Seemed Like A Good Idea At The Time. I have gone so far as to encourage the people around me to suggest items for my list when they see me About To Do Something Stupid...like Gwyneth with item #5. I actually went so far as to discuss with the EP why he didn't use much more forceful language before the Dairy Queen debacle. Really, saying "are you sure that is a good idea?" is just not enough. There needed to be something along the lines of "Are you F'ing CRAZY?" coming my way.

Stylin'

I confronted the EP yesterday on this disturbing picture of Ronald Reagan that I found on his laptop. Why? Just...why? Ronald Reagan? An anti-socialized medicine poster? Why? Why?

"Because Ronny had the best hair that ever was," says my stylin' husband.

I love my man.

Here baby, baby, baby....

As you can see, things are progressing swimmingly around here - for the given definition of:

swim·ming·ly [swim-ing-lee]: stretch marks have stretch marks, forget on average of 10 words per conversation, cries every time something is forgotten at the top of the stairs

***Warning, Squeamish Technical Terms Used in Following Post***

Last week I had my first cervical exam and began the obligatory weekly visits to the midwives. I was chipper when I went in, having been assured by my neighbor that it looked like the baby "had dropped" and I had been waddling around in a wide-hipped manner that could only mean one thing:

I was dilated to 4 centimeters and this baby was ready to go.

Never mind the fact that I still had a month before my actual due date (June 30th for those of you keeping track). Ignoring the fact that the Creep was 10 days late to the party and so even if this one decided to come early - I was probably going to be celebrating the 4th of July in a mu mu with my feet soaking in ice water. Despite all of these tremendously great reasons not to get my hopes up, my hopes were very up.

I told my midwife that I thought I was dilated. I assured her that the baby had dropped. I joked that I should be careful going to the bathroom.

She snapped on her glove, took a look around and said, "Honey, your cervix is so far up there I can't even find it."

Dammit.

She topped off that amusing little humdinger with the pronouncement that the Twerp is set to be just as big as her older brother (9lbs 11oz for those of you keeping track), which makes my fondest hope of avoiding another C-Section seem just that much farther away.

I have been in a bit of a funk this past week, mainly moping over the midwife news but more than a little bit by the swelling of my joints and cankles. Stupid pregnancy.

Until yesterday. Yesterday I once again visited my midwife with the adorable sense of humor and this time...

I am a centimeter dilated! And partially effaced! Woot! She TOUCHED the baby's HEAD (let us not dwell on visualizing this please). This means that I might actually HAVE A BABY.

Stay tuned...
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In Other News: Many thanks to my friend Ikisti for the awesome belly shot. She sat me down for a photo session the other week and I have been carrying around the gorgeous photo album she gave me and showing complete strangers my belly ever since.

Find of the Day

I am on the front page of Foundmagazine.com today! Woot!

I found this almost two years ago when walking around with little baby creep.

The First Sign of Spring

The Bobby Awards

I am proud to (very belatedly) announce that I am the winner of a 2007 Bobby Award for the Funniest Ugh Picture. I was nominated for this category by a complete stranger and was more than honored to be placed in the running for this most prestigious of awards.

Even before I found out that there was loot involved:

My favorite gift (and now the unofficial mascots of the Minneapolis/St Paul Drunken Knit Night):

And without further ado...the photo that started it all...Got Gauge?:

(because I am feeling very tired and even more pregnant I am going to be lazy and give you the excerpt straight from my Ravelry Page)

This was one of four horribly failed attempts to knit a sweater when I first started knitting years ago. Each one was unique in its horribleness, but I think "Got Gauge" is my opus of awfulness.

I have no idea what needle size I used, but looking at it now it must have been at least a size 10. This was also back in the day when I thought that $5 for a sweater sized ball of yarn was a great idea! So not only did I knit for a month to finish the #@$%#$% thing but it squeaked like crazy the whole frickin’ time.

The worst part? When I tried it on and it didn’t fit - oh the shame of the next words - I gave it to my mother for Christmas. She being a kind and loving mother smiled and thanked me and tried it on (er, kind of) and praised me for my thoughtfulness. She pulled it out this last Christmas when I was home and showed it to me, we rolled on the ground laughing until we cried.

It is still up in my closet, I don’t know what to do with it. My friends helped me take some pictures to remember it by, but I still can’t get rid of it. Maybe exposing my shame on Ravelry will help with the closure.
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By popular demand I give you: The Quadfecta (which is really a word, I looked it up)

Got Gauge?
The aforementioned gift from a bad bad daughter.

How Far Along Are You?
A hoody that is still making the rounds on the pregnancy circuit (because it was as wide as it was tall)

Indecent Exposure
An unintentional roll-bottom sweater that rolled up to right under my breasts (a la early Brittany Spears), er, knit in fuzzy denim-flecked acrylic bulky yarn.

Are Those Your Arms Or Is Your Sage Green Orangutan Just Happy To See Me?
A sweater made out of very very expensive baby alpaca made into a pattern that must have been written for mercerized cotton - needless to say it didn’t turn out Quite Right. That and I seamed the arms so tightly that I couldn’t put it on.
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In Other News: Why is the thought of posting so much more tiring than the actual act of posting??