Category: News

I’m crying while watching The Biggest Loser.

Really?  Seriously?

[Scene:  I’m in bed still trying to will myself the energy to face the day and Liam’s sitting on the floor next to the bed playing with the back massager that I’d already told him to put down.  I was getting ready to take action when I heard the following…]

Liam:  Hmmm.  Let’s see.  How does dis work?  I don’t know, let’s find out!  Oh, crackers!  I can’t figure it out.  I think it’s broken.  It doesn’t work.  Practice and practice?  Press dis button?  Keep trying?  Oh well, it’s broken.

—————————-

Once an engineer, always an engineer (albeit with an unfortunate ‘giving up’ issue, but he can work on that…hopefully).

[Scene:  We had just arrived home from Decatur and I was pulling Liam out of the car when I realized that he was saying something under his breath.  I listened a bit more and I realized that he wasn’t talking, he was singing.  When I realized what he was singing I almost cried tears of pure joy.]

Shannon:  Let me help you out, bud.

Liam:  We go to da bible.  We go to da workout.  Lookin’ at da mountain…fountain…Closer I am to Fi-iiiinnnne, ye-ah-ah…

—————————-

He may not have all the lyrics and they may not be in order, but it’s the first time he’s tried to sing a song that wasn’t being directly taught to him.  My chest might explode I’m so happy about his choice.

I really enjoy that you’ve brought us an extra hour of daylight.  I love summer evenings that last until 9pm.  I love that the crispness of morning lasts for a bit longer.  What I’d appreciate is if you could just never switch back in the fall.  You see, all this back and forth nonsense creates quite a sleep issue for those of us with children.  Liam just doesn’t seem to understand that he still has to take a nap that begins between 1 and 1:30.  He doesn’t seem to understand that 7:45 is still a far better bedtime for his Mama and Daddy than 8:45.  I tell him, but nothing’s getting through.  As a result, he’s decided that it would be best to not take a nap.  This is especially cruel after you already took an hour of sleep from us on Saturday night.  I’m really tired and need a nap of my own, so I’d appreciate any help you could give me with this issue.

Thanks so much,

Shannon

Liam: [sees a baby on Sesame Street and points him out] Baby!

Shannon:  Would you like to have a little baby brother or sister sometime soon?

Liam:  I’d like a yogurt, please.

Shannon:  Message received.

—————————————

Shannon:  Liam, would you like to have a baby brother or sister?  [Realizing as soon as the words left my mouth that I should never give Liam the illusion of a choice when there really isn’t one.]

Liam:  Baby sister.  No brother.

Shannon:  Okay, you’d like a baby sister?

Liam:  Ummmm….nope.  I think I like a helicopter, please.

Shannon:  It’s gonna be a ton of fun in this house in about 7 months, isn’t it…

—————————

After getting kicked and punched in the chest and the gut repeatedly, I found myself prematurely (we were waiting for the 12 week NT scan) telling Liam that I’m growing a baby in my belly so he needed to be gentle.  Several days had gone by (with no indication that there was an ounce of recognition of my earlier statement) when he came out with the following:

[Snuggled up together in bed watching a TiVoed episode of Super Why]

Liam: [turns over and gently pats my tummy] Gentle, gentle.  Mama’s growing a baby in dere.  So careful.  Nice, sweet baby.  [he then leaned over and laid his head down on my tummy, stroking it gently]  I love you Mama.  I love you baby.

Shannon:  [silent, ecstatic tears]

————————–

[After just being bathed, Liam is being carried upside-down and wrapped in a towel from the bathroom to his bedroom to get ready for bed.  He always sticks his head into our room to say hi to me at this point in his routine.  Here is what he said instead.]

Liam:  Baby Sister!

[Matt and Shannon look at each other with a little bit of shock and a little bit of puzzlement.]

Shannon:  What, Liam?

Liam:  Baby Sister!

Matt [turns to me]:  Where did he come up with that?

Shannon:  I have no idea.  I’ve never said anything to him.  Whyatt on Super Why has a baby sister who he made an applesauce cake for once, but other than that I don’t think he has any idea what a sister is…yeah, Super Why, that’s it…poor kid’s gonna be in for quite a surprise when he find’s out it’s a boy.

This conversation took place on January 13, 2010.

The hormones were beginning to kick up considerably (as evidenced by my tears while watching a TiVoed makeover episode of Oprah earlier in the day–the reason: I already look worse than the “before” pictures of these women and there’s no end in sight).

We had received an estimate for continuing the hardwood flooring that was considerably higher than I’d thought it would be because I didn’t take into account that there’s no way to match wood without sanding and staining everything at the same time.  Read: we would be out of our house for about a week and a half and our bank account would be out a considerable amount of money that we need to save to buy the van that is becoming necessary so that I can put Liam in a car seat and extract myself from the vehicle without the aid of the jaws of life.  Plus there’s the: oh-my-goodness-we-are-going-to-have-two-children-and-where-are-we-going-to-put-the-carseats-in-my-Civic?

The result?

Matt and I hemmed and hawed for about 30 minutes about different options that would still open up the room and make it into usable space.  We tried to get creative.  I ended up in tears.  Here’s an excerpt from the end of the conversation:

Shannon:  I just need for the house to be settled.  I need to have a plan for what’s going to happen because I don’t have any control over whether my sensitive bits will be ripped apart, about whether I’ll be able to sit down without screaming for months on end, or whether I’ll die in childbirth and then you’ll want to have a settled house to bring home the new baby that you’ll have to raise on your own while also raising Liam.  You’ll need to have a settled house in order to do that.  I don’t want to leave you in the lurch.

Matt:  If you die in childbirth I’ll move back to Decatur and it won’t matter anyway.

Shannon:  I guess that would be okay.  Liam won’t have a mom but he’ll be able to go to an elementary school with big windows and a principal who knows everyone’s name by the end of the day.

Matt:  Principals don’t know the kids’ names by the end of the day.

Shannon:  My principal did.  What was wrong with the Winnona Park principal?

Matt:  Nothing.  That’s not something principals do.

Shannon:  Mrs. Greene did.  Our children are not allowed to go to Winnona Park where the principal doesn’t know all the kids’ names.  They must go to Clairemont.  They can only go to Clairemont.

Matt:  Didn’t they close Clairemont?

Shannon:  NO!  They closed Westchester.  They will never close Clairemont.  They can’t close my school.

[Pause to sob and try to breathe.]

Shannon:  Now I need for you to make up some graph paper so we can come up with a solution to the “bonus room” issue.  Right now.  I need graph paper and a to-scale rendition of the table and chairs immediately.

Matt:  Okay.  I’m going to make graph paper and table and chairs right now so you can brainstorm.

[About 15 minutes pass and he brings me the graph paper and to-scale table and chairs and leaves to work in the kitchen.  He comes back about 30 minutes later.]

Matt:  So what did you come up with, brainstorming-wise?

Shannon:  Nothing, yet.  I was busy writing this blog post that I can’t publish until after we’re telling people that I’m pregnant.

Matt:  Um…Yes, Dear.

Matt:  Liam, don’t eat ketchup with a spoon.

—————————

Matt:  Liam, if you don’t eat this piece of orange I am never peeling you another orange again.

—————————

[Liam breaks out in a coughing fit] Matt:  LIAM!  Don’t Drink The Bathwater!  Seriously!

—————————

Shannon:  Liam, once you’ve ripped the dog’s leg off it can’t be fixed.  It’s legless.  Forever.

This pregnancy has brought with is many more aversions and oddities than my pregnancy with Liam.  Many, many, MANY more.  Here are just a few:

—————————————

Shannon:  “I can’t even look at that dark chocolate.  I think I will vomit.  Only milk chocolate will do.”

—————————————

I found myself trying to soak the sugar off the tops of the frosted shredded mini wheats, which I purchased because previously (and by previously I mean at all other times in my life prior to this point) I couldn’t eat shredded wheat without the sugar and figured that the benefits of the shredded wheat would outweigh the negatives of the sugar.  I will now buy regular shredded wheat for breakfast for the first time in my life.

—————————————

I “pull a PJ” at almost every meal:  I get down towards the end and there might be two or three bites left and I cannot, for any amount of love or money, eat those last little bits.  Upside:  maybe I won’t be a total cow at the end of this pregnancy…

—————————————

I’ve been eating Lean Cuisines for dinner because they’re the only things I can stomach.

—————————————

Shannon:  “I can’t even think about eating a cracker.  Crackers make me want to vomit.”

—————————————

Anything with red sauce (spaghetti, pizza, etc.) is a huge no-no.  Seriously?

During my pregnancy with Liam I didn’t have any notable pregnancy dreams (that I can remember–although clearly I have forgotten more than I thought I had, or I wouldn’t be pregnant again…).  While taking Prometrium, I had the vivid dreams that I’ve heard people describe.  I’ve been saving them up for posting until after we’d told people about the pregnancy.  Here’s a recount of the dreams I remembered to write down while on the Prometrium:

————————–

I was pregnant, or at least I thought I was, but then I was told that I was actually adopting a newborn.  We named her Lola (I drink champagne and it tastes just like Coca-Cola…Lo, Lo, Lo, Lo, Lola).  When they handed her to me, I thought she was rather large and I was surprised that she didn’t look at all like me or Matt.  Then they said she was actually about 6 months old.  Then all of a sudden she was writing (in what I assume was her native tongue–I couldn’t read it but it was clearly a language and not just randomly placed characters) and when I went to see how tall she was and she was 4 feet tall.  We determined that she was actually probably five years old (I have no idea how).  Then I wanted to know how I was able to give birth to a five year old and was told that I wasn’t pregnant, just histrionic.  Then I woke up.

—————————

I dreamed that my friend Emily was/is pregnant.  For some reason this made me cry profusely (although I’m pretty sure I was very happy).  Em — do you have something to tell me?

—————————

I dreamed that I was at a potluck supper at my parents’ house.  I knew intrinsically that I was pregnant at the gathering but that no one else knew that.  I was also nauseous, but apparently still able to crave a balanced meal.  I was the last one in line and by the time I got to the serving table there was nothing left but jello salad.  I hate jello salad.  Then I discovered the second table which had one remaining serving of turkey, green beans, and homemade applesauce.  I filled my plate with the remainder of each dish and went to sit down.  I put my plate on the table and went to fill my glass with water.  When I returned I found Pok scraping what was on my plate into the trash can.  I confronted him about it, telling him that I was hungry, and he told me to get over it.  He said that everyone had finished eating and I’d missed my chance.  I wanted to cry, throw things, and vomit all at once.  Then I woke up.

—————————

I was riding (or driving, it was hard to tell) down the highway at high speed when I saw that in front of me there was a van, also driving at high speed, with a teenager holding on to the back of it.  At first glance it seemed like he was just running really fast, but it was more of a gliding movement, so maybe he had on skates or something.  Anyways, my first impression was that he was somehow keeping the van on course from the back of the vehicle, either pushing or steering.  Then he moved and started doing tricks all around the sides (miraculously never leaving his lane).  His mother was opening the door to scream something at him at random intervals.  While doing so she had her head turned completely around causing her to drive blindly for long stretches of road.  This made me nervous (although apparently the gliding/skating teenager on the freeway didn’t).  At one point she was turned around for what felt like hours.  There was a traffic jam ahead.  She turned around in time for her eyes to be as big as saucers and all I saw was a white light as she screamed and slammed on her breaks.  Then I woke up.

—————————

I was at the doctor’s office (as I had been the day before) and I had filled out a form (as I did the day before) that was given to me by the receptionist, but that wasn’t particularly applicable to my situation.  In the dream I was taken into a room with several other couples, all in different states of having blood pressure taken, blood drawn, etc.  The woman who was handling us came over to us with my form and threw it back in my face saying “this is not acceptable, you need to fill this out again.”  I was confused, but said “I wondered if it wasn’t applicable to my situation since I’m not here for an annual visit, but a pregnancy confirmation and ultrasound.”  She then snatched the paper back out of my hands and the following exchange took place:

Lady in lab coat:  Under the ‘how do you feel’ section, you wrote “crappy.”  That’s unacceptable.

Shannon:  I don’t understand, that’s a pretty accurate description of how I feel.

Lady in lab coat:  And this question?  [points to a question about a theory by some doctor which seemed to me like a question where you were supposed to intuit the answer]  Are you trying to tell me you know who Dr. So-and-so is?  Just off the top of your head?

Shannon:  No.  I just figured that since it was implied that I should be able to fill this sheet out in a short period of time, that I wouldn’t need access to reference materials.

Lady in lab coat:  Well, you figured wrong and now you’ve earned yourself some homework.  [Shakes head and says *ridiculous* in an exasperated tone under her breath.]

Shannon:  *That’s* ridiculous.  I’m not researching anything for an informational form.

Lady in lab coat:  Some people are so stupid.

Shannon:  Are you calling me stupid?  Because that’s a mistake.  I am many things, for example:  right now I’m furious, but stupid I’m not.

Lady in lab coat:  Well, I refuse to treat you while you’re being hostile.

Shannon:  Well, that works out well because I refuse to have you “treat me” in this way and if you touch me there’ll be hell to pay.

Lady in lab coat:  [Throws form up in the air and stomps out of the room.]

Friend of lady in lab coat:  [Comes over and mumbles something about taking my pulse and then promptly sticks an acupuncture needle in the back of my hand then tells me to go down the hall to another room.]

Then I walk down the hall to the other room with the needle still sticking out of the back of my hand, fuming the whole way.  I turned to Matt and said something about finding a new doctor’s office and then I woke up.

————————————–

[I had the following dream after watching entirely too much of the third season of House, which if you’re not familiar involves a drug-seeking doctor and a detective who uses many different tactics to make his point.]

I went to the drug store to refill my progesterone supplement prescription and was told that my DEA number is on hold until further notice and that they can’t help me fill my prescription.  The next thing I knew I was sitting in the office of the OB who delivered Liam (and was my doctor for 12 years before I switched things up for this pregnancy).  He was sitting at his desk with his cowboy-boot-laden feet crossed and resting on top of his desk, with his hands crossed behind his head.  He was smirking at me (which I’ve never seen him do, unless I was saying something funny, and certainly never *at* me).  When I asked why I wasn’t allowed to refill my prescription he told me that I “should have thought about that before abusing the system.”  When I countered that it wasn’t fair to the child I’m carrying to deny me medication, especially when it’s not a narcotic or anything addictive (or for that matter, when it’s something that I’m convinced makes me more nauseous and which I cannot wait to stop taking as soon as possible).  I said “how could you do this to my child?  You’ll kill her (apparently in this dream I’m having a daughter)!  How could you stand to have that on your conscience?”  He responded that the refusal to fill my prescription was the result of my actions and I had no one to blame but myself.  Then I woke up.

—————————-

I was in New York City with some people from high school (in the dream they were definitely friends, but the faceless familiar kind of friend).  We found our way to a farmer’s market.  The first thing I picked out was an apple the size of a large pumpkin.  The guy who was helping me cut it in half (with a pocket knife, somehow) because I clearly couldn’t eat the whole thing by myself (apparently 5 pounds of apple was doable while 10 pounds of apple was out of even my reach).  I then wandered around looking for pastries (and unable to find a plain cheese danish) getting more and more frustrated when I realized that the people I came with were gone and I was by myself in the middle of a farmer’s market in NYC.  I didn’t really feel panicked in my dream, but in my head I knew that I had to be panicked.  Then I woke up.

—————————-

The dreams (at least super-vivid ones like these) seem to have subsided as soon as I finished taking the Prometrium.  Hopefully they’ll stay away, they certainly feel much more real than my dreams sans Prometrium and while interesting, being awakened with a jolt isn’t much fun.

[Liam is “driving” his fire truck and giving us a play-by-play of his exploits.]

Liam:  I’m drivin’ up the driveway.  I’m drivin’ out into da road.  I’m goin’ to get dinner.

Matt:  What are you getting for dinner?

Liam:  Chicken and broccoli.

My thought:  At least that’s not as bad as if he said chicken and fries.  Right…?

[Obviously drawn from the fact that we’ve had a lot of dinners prepared by others lately (and by ‘dinners prepared by others’ I mean Publix, Mint, Galla’s, and the perennial favorite: Chick-fil-A (God bless Truett Cathy).  There have been an ungodly number of grilled chicken sandwiches, rotisserie chickens, and philly cheese steaks consumed in this house in the last couple of months.  I think that the broccoli reference is related to the fact that Mint (our delivery option for Chinese and Thai) is very fond of the broccoli.  I’m hoping to prepare my first homemade dinner since January very soon.  I’m hoping the worst is behind us…]