Category: News

Triker Boy

Today we finally broke Liam’s tricycle out of its box.  We had originally planned to do so in the spring, but stuff happens and here we are in September just getting around to it.  He was very excited to put on his helmet and get started.  He doesn’t quite understand the concept of pushing the pedals to power the trike, but he can still scoot along at record speed and with practice I think he’ll really enjoy it.  For now his favorite part might just be the bell.  Here are some pictures we took of the big event:

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Week 38

Mother Nature is a tricky mistress.  She builds into some of us this desire to procreate.  Like lemmings we oblige.  She then makes it clear that parenthood is not an easy ride and proceeds to punish the mother-to-be (presumably for being too excited about the impending parenthood) by making her sick for an indeterminate period of time.

Next she decides to give (many of us) a break for several months.  During this time we again get excited about our procreation status.  We plan, we prepare, we dream.

Then we arrive at the end of the gestation process.  At this point, Mother Nature decides that the only way we’re going to be willing to go through what we have to go through in order to hold our little miracle is to make the last few weeks of the process nearly unbearable.  Our bodies ache too badly to sleep more than 45 minutes at a time.  We wake up multiple times each night to relieve ourselves.  We wake up at random hours of the night/morning unable to fall back to sleep.  We are completely worn down by the whole thing.

This is the only thing that makes the idea of doing something as crazy as pushing something the size of a watermelon out an opening the size of a lemon seem like a good idea.  Because we know deep down that this is the only way to make the pain stop.

I’m pretty sure that I am experiencing some form of PTSD from Liam’s birth.  I’m terrified.  I desperately don’t want to go through what I had to go through last time in order to get Baby Girl out of me.  I have options.  I’ve run them all over and over in my head dozens of times.  There just don’t seem to be any good answers.  There are assurances, but there are no guarantees.  The only thing of which I’m certain at this point is that if Baby Girl doesn’t make her entrance into this world in the very near future (and by that I basically mean during the next week, preferably several hours after Matt and I have picked Liam up from his first day of preschool on Tuesday) I’m going to complete my spiral into total madness.  Watch out folks, I’m afraid that things are about to get really ugly at The Connolly Ranch…

On with the freak show.

Week 38 in my pregnancy with Liam (I’m still jealous of the sweater, but at this point I’m certainly not jealous of the pants.  Long live the sundress!):

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Wow.

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Bonus shot (Contrary to appearances, I was not doing my very best impersonation of Britney Spears, it’s just what happens when you’re this far along in a pregnancy and you have nothing left to wear that will actually cover your body but you refuse, on principle, to spend another dime on maternity clothing.  You can all thank Matt for capturing this gem.)

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Week 38 in this pregnancy with Baby Girl (My eyes are barely visible between the puffiness that’s a result of water retention and the puffiness that’s a result of waking up every 45 minutes all night long to turn over and then waking up at 4:30 unable to go back to sleep.  It’s getting brutal and it’s showing all over my face.  Literally.):

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Also–if my belly looks smaller in this than last week’s pictures, don’t be deceived, it’s just the back-to-back contractions.  It’s the pregnant version of holding my gut in…

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Here’s to hoping that these are the last pictures of their kind and that next week’s shots include post-uterine-eviction shots of Baby Girl.  Those will be much less painful to look at…

You Know Your Brain Is No Longer Functioning When…

You’re sitting there, minding your own business and you notice something on your finger.  You assume that it’s food because you just finished breakfast.  You then attempt to pull, then scrub it off.  It starts to sting and burn.  This is when you realize that you just spent five minutes turning what was a small scrape into a welt.  Because you thought it was food.

More Awesome.

You wanna know what’s even more full of the awesome than the things I described earlier in the week?

Being 37 weeks, 5 days pregnant and waking up (on the first morning all week that does not require an alarm) at 5am to go to the bathroom only to discover that your hips are too sore to lie on them anymore and eventually resigning yourself to clipping coupons in the kitchen while sitting on a pillow.

Full.  Of.  The.  Awesome.

Out Of Control

You know that the situation has gone completely outer limits when not only do you have to learn to shave your legs with both hands because you can’t reach the outer side of your opposite leg due to the size of your abdomen but you also discover that plucking your eyebrows has become impossible because there isn’t enough room for your belly and the sink to co-exist in a way that makes it possible to actually see what it is that you’re plucking.

Sweet Release

Matt was released from jury duty just a few minutes ago, before the lunch break.

This ensures that I will either go to a full 40 weeks or to an induction date (whichever comes first), but it also ensures that Matt will be present for the birth of our second child.  I couldn’t be more relieved.

Gender Roles

Yesterday we went to Liam’s introduction to preschool (they called it a “Welcoming Tea” but that was a bit of a misnomer…certainly welcoming, but not at all “tea-like”).  His classroom is home to two different classes (one on Tuesdays and Thursdays and one Monday-Wednesday-Friday) so there were twice the number of children (plus their parents) as there will normally be and the result was an absolute zoo.  Liam didn’t seem at all phased by everything going on around him and was fascinated by the vast assortment of toys available to him.

The most interesting part of the morning to me (and I’m guessing this is the Sociology degree in me on display) was the distinct division of gender roles among the children in the classroom.  The oldest children were “young 3s” and yet even at such an early age these children had clearly picked up gender messages along the way.  The only children frequenting the dress-up station were girls happily adorned in princess costumes and hats and the boys flocked to the transportation stations full of planes, trains, and automobiles.  I didn’t observe any cues from parents that would have led the children to make any particular choice and yet there was a clear division.

I’ve always been fascinated by the nature vs. nurture argument when it comes to stereotypical gender roles but it’s an impossible thing to completely discern, because no matter what kind of environment is provided by a child’s parents, society inevitably weasels its way into the equation.

It will be really interesting to see what happens as Liam takes part in his first group childcare setting as well as learning to navigate the waters of attempting to raise a well-adjusted girl in our culture.  I hope she likes trains, because we certainly have enough of them in the house already!

I think my favorite part of this observation however, was provided by Liam.  He was carefully inspecting all the large trucks and other transportation equipment when he came across a little princess statue on the rug.  He gleefully picked it up exclaiming “Oh, Mama!  I found a princess!”  He then proceeded to help that princess drive the tar out of a big-rig all the while chattering away about how much fun she was having and what a great job she was doing.

I just hope that we can help him learn that dressing up can be fun, invite the girls in his class to play with him at the transportation stations, and hold on to the idea that princesses can drive big-rigs (and do a great job).

Oh PBS, You Clever Minx

We went to the library on Monday to do our usual return and pick up of books.  When we got into the children’s area there was a new rug on the floor, clearly provided by our friends at PBS Kids.  In case someone had failed to notice this addition to the decor, Liam ran into the area, saw the logo, and immediately began pointing and screaming “PBS Kids, PBS Kids!  Look Mama!  It’s PBS Kids!”

To the uninformed observer it may have looked like he was reading the “PBS Kids” part off the rug, as he was pointing directly to it.  Unfortunately, I know better and recognize the ridiculousness that is going to the library to get something good for his brain only to find him drawn to the logo representing what’s bad for it.

I guess it could be a whole lot worse.  Right…?

Awesome.

You know what’s full of the awesome?

Being 37 weeks, 2 days pregnant and waking up at 6am in a pool of your own sweat to find out that a tree has fallen in the night and taken with it the power lines for the block (and subsequently the air-conditioning and fan that are necessary for your survival).  Also:  going to the initial parents’ meeting at your son’s preschool and finding out that not only are you the first family to provide snacks on the rotating schedule, but that this means that you are on the hook for the day before and the day after your due date.  Also:  finding out that one child has a peanut allergy (and not knowing how severe because this parent wasn’t able to be at the meeting) and another has both dairy and egg allergies (yes, even baked into things).

Being 37 weeks, 3 days pregnant and waking up at 5:15am because your husband has to drive to Davidson, NC for a 10am meeting.  Also: spending the entire day crossing your legs and pretending that those contractions aren’t really painful while trying to have a cheery disposition for your son’s introduction to preschool.

Being 37 weeks, 4 days pregnant and waking up at (what I assume will be) 6:45am because your husband has jury duty and needs to leave by 7:15 in order to get there on time.  Also: again spending the entire day with your legs (and fingers) crossed all the while knowing that the government doesn’t give two hoots about your husband missing the birth of your child and hoping against hope that he doesn’t get chosen to serve on a jury.

But you know what’s the most full of the awesome?

Being Matt while all this is going on.