Thanks For Giving

Turkey Day has officially come and gone, but the holiday spirit is in full force. Just today, my parents, brother, Brady and I went to breakfast and unbeknownst to us, a man sitting at a nearby table picked up our check. The waitress told us that he paid our bill and asked that we pay it forward. I won't lie: it almost brought tears to my eyes because THAT'S what this season is all about.

Center of attention and LOVING it!

The Elderton trip was lovely as always...except for one thing: I met the culprit that has stolen my baby name, Mia. I wish I could say the girl doesn't look like a Mia thereby justifying that I can still name our child that, but this little gal was the most gorgeous Mia I have EVER seen. She was truly just a little ball of Mia perfection: olive skin, emerald eyes, and thick black lashes. Therefore, we are on the hunt for the perfect name for Baby J. 2. We can't decide on a girl OR boy name, so this should be interesting!

Grandma Barb and part of her brood!

Our second stop was at Nonna and Nonno's and Brady was in heaven! He was the center of attention, the proud recipient of a new Santa cup with straw, and there was even more food there!

I couldn't pass up that bib!

Brady spent some quality time with Nonna, Nonno, Uncle Dan, and Aunt Sherry banging his make-shift drum, stacking/throwing blocks, and feasting on, among other things, Cheerios! It is true what they say: the holidays are definitely more fun with a little one!

Balancing act

He's like a dog: he'll do anything for food!

One of my favorite pics! Nonna's Little Helper!

Zach attended his annual Penn State game on Saturday, so Brady and I hung out until it was time to go to Sandy and Kevin's light-up night. We ate good food, had a white elephant exchange, and just hung out. Brady was very well-behaved, especially considering their Christmas tree was such temptation! This Sunday is our roommate Secret Santa exchange and everyone is coming to our house.

Disgusting amount of meat used to make hamburgers for the PSU game. Vomit.

Because my attempts at taking Brady's Christmas card pictures were fruitless this year, we had to give in and have them taken "professionally." I use that term loosely as the set-up at JC Penney was less than stellar. I didn't realize photographers still used the actual back drops; I thought everyone had real props, etc. I was wrong. Our boy sat on a white sheet in front of fake snowflakes, but with the coupons and gift cards I had, his pictures and all of our Christmas cards were practically free! That, coupled with the fact that when our photographer handed Brady a gold bulb to occupy him, he yelled, "BALL!" and fired it right back at her, made the trip worth it. Can't complain about the price, but I'll definitely seek something a little more innovative next year!

This is the only half decent shot I got of the boy!

It seems like Brady is learning something new every day; I can barely keep up! He's begun making song requests while riding in the car. His favorite song, "Three Jolly Fishermen," features the names of three men, and  Brady prefers the first: Abraham. In the song, his name is sung "Abra, Abra, ham, ham, ham!" and the boy echoes the "ham" each time. Unfortunately, that's the only part he knows/likes/is willing to participate in and insists that we listen to it repeatedly. I am thankful for short car rides.

Saying something...as always.

I admit it's stupid AND that I had the same fear when pregnant with Brady, but I wonder if I shouldn't be...bigger! I know, I know--toward the end of my first pregnancy, you could have mistaken me for a rhino. I get it. However, everyone I know has told me that I'll SHOW (for Trish) earlier and be bigger than with the first. I've just begun week 17 and I don't think I look it. But that's just me...

In addition to the why-aren't-I-fatter concern, I. can. not. sleep. I fall asleep just fine, but by 1 or 2 am, I'm awake until Zach's alarm goes off. It's been so bad that I gave in and downloaded something called HypnoBabies "Peaceful Sleep Now." Many pregos have raved that it's the only thing that helped them sleep. I wish I could say I was one of those women. I listen to it and then end up twisting and turning and sometimes waking Zach. There have been nights where I give up and just sleep on the couch. It's waaay too early in the pregnancy for these shenanigans and quite frankly, I'm more than irritable during the day! I want to sleep on my back or my belly which are both no-nos at this point, but because I inevitably end up in one of those positions, I freak out because I think I'm hurting the baby. I'm a real project these days. I have a check-up this Friday and I am praying that my doctor will put a sleeping spell on me until May.

So as not to end on a sour note, Zach and I would just like to take a minute and thank all of our family and friends who are so generous with Brady. Be it your time, a book out of a cereal box, or a card to wish him a happy second Thanksgiving, we appreciate all the love that you show him. He's certainly a lucky little guy to have so many amazing people in his life and we hope that we can say the same for Baby J. 2. We also hope that because I'm working from home and Brady is accustomed to amusing himself for extended amounts of time, the new baby will be a seamless transition into our lives. So, thank YOU for being so good to Brady and to us--we appreciate it all year 'round!

"Thank you!"

Brady the Dancing Machine

Our little man has moves!
(Sorry, I don't know how to rotate it so it's bigger and not sideways! Enjoy as best you can!!)

Just for Kicks...and Falls :-)

Brady was in rare form today! Please enjoy the video of him making himself dizzy, falling down, and repeating the process until he's utterly exhausted!

It's Break Time!

The Holiday Season is officially upon us! I have a four-day weekend and Zach has a 5-day break from work. We are very excited to stuff ourselves with homemade food, visit with family and friends, and put up the Christmas decorations! Okay, maybe that last one just makes me happy, but Zach doesn't have a choice so he might as well pretend he loves it :-)

The Lowers Feast of 2010 was stupendous! We missed Nonna and Nonno because they couldn't make it, but that's just a great excuse to get together and indulge again! Ever since that day, Brady has begun taking inventory of everyone in the family. Each morning during his diaper change, he'll ask where everyone is: "Deet, Pim, Mite, Pap, Mam-maw." My response is usually "They're at work," and he repeats work...then repeats everyone's name about 60 times each.

Stacking "yocks" with Pappy. He put one in his pocket for safe keeping and then later spiked it on Mam-maw and Pappy's hardwood floors...

Not much is new since my last post, except I turned 30...officially! My best gal pal, Jen, treated us to massages and then we grabbed brunch and just relaxed for a few hours. It was so lovely to just do...nothing! And the massage, by the way, was a little slice of heaven. The following Tuesday, I met my wonderful roomies at Walnut Grove at The Waterworks for dinner and some girl time. It's crazy that we met when we were just 18 years old and what seems to be only a few years later we're celebrating our 30th birthdays!

Also, Brady's "big boy" furniture has arrived, been assembled, and is now the proud recipient of a little boy. The first night he spent in his new room, I was almost sad because he's farther down the hall from us! (Must be those pregnancy hormones acting up...) He did very well, though. I think he heard Zach leave in the morning, though, because soon after the garage door closed, I heard, "Mum! Muuuummmm!" and I think Brady freaked out a bit because he wasn't in "his" room. I went in and reminded him he's in his big boy room and he fell back asleep until about 9 am. 

Not quite ready for the transition to the Big Boy Bed, but this bad boy will be a toddler bed and then a full-size bed!

Where we do our nightly reading. I'm not a fan of the decals, but the men of the house love them. Brady tries to peel them off so I doubt they last long!

My favorite piece of furniture! It's a change table/dresser/desk/book case! Notice someone has already gotten into the books...

Uncle Nevada is in town for Thanksgiving so he and Brady got to visit for a bit the other night. He hasn't seen Brady in months and was pretty entertained by his walking, talking, and other antics. Tomorrow for the real Turkey Day, we'll head to Elderton with Grandma Barb and crew, and then make our way to Spring Church with Nonna and Nonno. Our last stop of the day is my aunt's. Because Thanksgiving Day is so busy, my parents changed our family dinner to the next day, so we'll eat again with them on Friday. Among the other blessings for which I am thankful this year, I would like to add the elastic band on my maternity pants to this list!!

Making a fashion statement: Nude is In

Speaking of which, now that my baby bump is visible to the naked eye, we have been asked by a handful of nosy idiots if this pregnancy was planned!! Seriously, who is rude and/or stupid enough to verbalize that?! As a result, I would also like to add self-restraint to my list; if it weren't for that, you may have been reading about me in the Criminal Log in our local newspaper.

Gobble! Gobble!

Playing ball in the buff

Trouble Below

The other day during a diaper change, Brady began writhing around making it nearly impossible to clean him. I thought I was just taking too long and didn't think much more of it...until the next diaper change: his nether region was beet-red and he was clearly in a lot of discomfort. He kept yelling, "Hot! Hot!" when I wiped him, so I knew there was an issue. In the day of the Internet, it's entirely too easy to access information that worries a mother to the point where she can't sleep. This is what happened after I researched that "red, swollen testicles could be a sign of an internal infection that may need to be treated with emergency surgery." It was that little ditty, along with the possibility of "sterility if not treated immediately," that freaked me out. Needless to say, Brady and I made an impromptu trip to the pediatrician on Wednesday morning. Before I get into the diagnosis and treatment, I have to share a funny story...

When we got to the pediatrician's office, no one else was in the waiting room. So when we walked through the doors, we were the center of attention. Brady took this as an invitation to perform. He greeted everyone with his million-dollar-smile, a wave, and a very vocal, "Hiiiii!" Everyone, of course, ooo'ed and awww'ed and he soaked it all in. He rattled off all of the words he knows, including recent favorites such as "sunshine" and "outside." He then began pointing to and naming the colors of the floor tiles (I didn't even know the kid knew the word "purple" existed...). Every woman in the place was packed in the check-in windows to get a glimpse of Brady who, at this point, is staggering about like a drunken sailor laughing maniacally. One woman said, "Brady! You are so adorable!" He stopped what he was doing just long enough to point to his head, making sure that she was also aware of how smart he is. The kid is crazy and I love it!

Anyway, once in the exam room, he wasn't so excited. The doctor had his diaper off for literally four seconds, but he wailed the entire time. When she was through with the exam, I told Brady, "It's all done," and through tears and his sad lip, he repeated, "All done" so pathetically that I wanted to cry, too! The final prognosis: diaper BURN. I instantly felt like a horrible mother who allowed her child to sit in his own waste for hours at a time, but the doctor assured me that Brady's case is due to excessive wiping and cleaning. He had been pooing a lot, so of course he was wiped a lot. I guess too much maintenance can actually be a bad thing. The treatment was simple, but time-consuming: we had to later on a really thick paste and then cover it in powder, and rather than wipe him clean, we had to run warm water over the soiled area and pat dry. To do this required a trip to the tub for each diaper change; when the water hit the mixture of paste and powder (that we were forbidden to wipe off for three days!), we had one big gloppy mess! But, we followed the doctor's orders and I am happy to report that Brady's "boys" are all better! He thoroughly enjoyed his daily mini-baths; I personally did not.

 In other, unrelated Brady news, we went to our local hardware store last night to grab a few things to finish his big boy room (sidebar: the furniture SHOULD be delivered next week! Whoo!), and to our surprise, the owner's cat was running around! Brady was in heaven. He wanted that cat in the worst way, but it kept running from him (I can't imagine why...). He was relentless, though, and raced after it yelling, "CAT! MEEEOOOWWW!" thinking that if he spoke its language, it would surrender. He was not successful at tracking the poor kitty, but it was hilarious to watch. Every time he saw a person, he would say, "Cat" hoping that they would aid him in his search. We left the store "catless," but Brady meowed the whole way home.

My belly has officially "popped" and regular pants are quickly becoming a thing of the past. I can't help but wonder if it's the baby or my addiction to everything edible. Anyway, maternity pants are still a bit big and slide down, so nothing fits me well except sweatpants. I'd be more than happy to rock sweatpants every day, but I do have to go into public every now and again and unlike my husband, I don't think Stephanie in Her Sweatpants is suitable for the public eye. Especially because I have to wear them so low it looks like I'm in need of a diaper change myself...

Speaking of my wonderful husband, Happy Belated 32nd Birthday to Zach! I didn't post on Nov. 9th, so he didn't get any "blog love" for his big day. He actually had an in-service on the 9th so he was able to come home and eat lunch with me and the boy. We gave him his gifts then and that evening, he and I enjoyed an adults-only dinner at Hoffstadt's in Oakmont. It was beyond yummy and because it was Zach's birthday and we are expecting, our waiter/father of three gave us dessert on the house. Is there really a better birthday gift than that?! Oh carrot cake, how I love thee.

Speaking of birthdays, my 29+1 is tomorrow and Derek's big day is Monday. Not that it's in honor of us birthday kids (even though I'm kinda pretending it is!), we're all headed to Kim's parents' in Freeport for a big family feast today. Gram and Pap, Nonno and Nonna, Grandma Barb, Uncle Derek, and Kim's whole side of the family will be there. I made the orzo salad this morning, but all I can think about eating is one of my mother-in-law's famous chocolate chip cookies. If you've never had one, your life isn't complete. They're the size of my head and touched by angels or something--they're AMAZING. That was a not-so-subtle hint to Terri, a faithful blog reader :-)

"Help! I'm afraid Mom is going to eat me, too!"

Bummer Got Better and Brady Got Bigger!

I was hesitant about my check-up this past Monday because it was another meeting with the now infamous Dr. Bummer (if you remember, I officially put the man on My List the last time we met), but I have to say: I was pleasantly surprised. But I’m getting ahead of myself; let’s start at the beginning of the appointment when I fell on my nurse…

 I waited for what seemed like forever because the office was really backed up. In fact, an older couple (who arrived after me and sat patiently for maybe six minutes) left because “they were wasting their whole day at the doctor’s.” By the time I was called back to be weighed, I was half asleep. When the nurse kindly helped me onto the scale, I looked up at the numbers and then promptly tilted sideways and fell right into her. She’s a tiny woman, so I was sure I had crushed her to death. Much to my surprise, she remained steady on her feet and helped me regain my balance. I have no idea how much I weigh because sheer humiliation is all I could see. Plus, she never actually told me how much I had gained, which I take as a sign of compassion; she knew I was mortified from the fall and didn’t want to make me cry by telling me how much my chocolate binges have added to my thighs. Ick.

Anyway, my blood pressure is still great: 108/62. I did the right thing and got my flu shot, too. The last time I had one I was in college and became deathly ill as a result, so I had sworn them off for life. But I’m afraid of the swine flu now, so I figured it was the responsible thing to do to protect Baby J. 2. My grandma The-Flu-Shot-Saves-Lives-and-Even-Better-It’s-Free-Because-It’s-Covered-By-Your-Insurance Helen would be so proud! I also got to hear the baby’s heart beat for the first time today. The healthy range is between 125-175 beats per minute, and BJ2 was coming in strong at 150. That put me at ease because I keep telling Zach I shouldn’t be able to fit into my regular jeans still so, of course, something could be wrong. He normally rolls his eyes at me when I worry about things like this, which is a reasonable response. I think I’m just carrying higher than I did with Brady which accounts for my pants still buttoning, not without a waist extender on more bloated days, but nevertheless, still buttoning!

Before the appointment was over, I mentioned my desire (again…) to try for a VBAC. I was honest with ‘ole Bummer and told him I didn’t feel like he was supportive of my wishes. He said he was definitely an advocate as long as the baby and I stay healthy. When I explained that I blamed the C-section discomfort and slow recovery for ruining my chances to nurse Brady, Dr. Bummer assured me that he was in my corner, but not without some compromises, of course. For instance, my goal of walking around and letting gravity work its magic is a thing of the past; he said he highly recommends (AKA: insists) I have the epidural in the event that I’ll need another emergency C-section. He explained that if I don’t have the epidural and need the operation, I could end up under anesthesia and be unconscious for the birth of my child. No thank you. I obliged and then asked if I could at least wait for as long as possible before having the epidural so I wouldn’t be strapped to a bed for 24 hours again. Those hopes were dashed as well. Because I’m VBAC-ing, they’ll want to use constant internal monitoring to detect the (1%, rare, barely ever happens) chance of a uterine rupture. While this isn’t exactly what I had in mind, I understand that I will have to cooperate and do what’s best and safest for the baby. If that means hanging out in bed and not feeling the pain of contractions, I guess there are worse things in life.    

On to Brady’s appointment: he entertained the crowd of waiting patients with his walking skills and by yelling “Kick!” which sounds an awful lot like shit. Most people were laughing, but I know some were also judging our parenting as our child teetered about yelling obscenities. Once in the exam room, we stripped the boy down to his diaper and all was well. He enjoyed the nurse, he sat on the scale like a gentleman, he lay still while he was measured—he was a picture of perfection. That is, until his pediatrician walked in the room. Brady just burst into tears! It took Zach and I by such surprise that we just burst out laughing (more evidence of our stellar parenting). Dr. Daly offered Brady a sticker, but nothing would sooth the poor kid. He screamed while the man checked his heart beat, ears, and eyes. By the time the exam was over, Brady was all red and puffy, but at least the worse was behind him. Or so he thought. The shots really did him in today. Normally he wails for a minute and then quits, but today he was gasping for his breath and shaking because he was so tormented by the day’s events. He wasn’t, however, as bad as the child in the room next to ours who had to be held down by his father and three nurses. He kept screaming, “YOU’RE CHOKING ME! YOU’RE KILLING ME!” Zach and I also found this amusing, so maybe Brady’s outburst was karma teaching us a lesson?

At any rate, Brady is in the 25^th percentile for his weight (22 pounds, 14 ounces), the 60^th percentile for his height (31.5 inches), and the doctor predicted his height to be around 5’10. (My brother reminded me that he, too, was predicted to be a bit taller than my dad (between 5'11-6 foot); he currently stands at a manly 5’7. Guess we shouldn't get our hopes up just yet!!) Brady is hitting all of his milestones (albeit his walking is a bit late), and as always, Dr. Daly, the man of many observations, commented on his eyes: “They are really blue.”  He then said, "I've seen white kids, and I've seen really white kids; Brady falls into the really white category." Surprise, surprise.