I don't know how I got so deluded, but I thought that pushing my double stroller while running would add minor difficulty to a run. Ummm... no. It's a whole lot harder than I anticipated, not simply because of the additional weight (I test-ran it with almost 50 total pounds of toddler on board), but because it seems to require a change of running posture which isn't very comfortable. The handlebar has tremendous height variability, but it wasn't really comfortable in any position. Running one-handed was the best I could do (thank goodness it handles well that way and if I remember to lock the wheels next time it might help keep the kids from squirrelling off the path), but uphill and downhill require both hands, and there seem to be lots of those here in the mountain foothills.

Regardless, I'm still working my way through my running program though sans stroller for the time being. The first full run comes at the end of week five (I'm currently in the middle of week two) and I decided to see how I felt after that point and to revisit the stroller training run idea then. On race day I'm expecting to have only about 37 pounds of kids in the stroller and am hoping like crazy to be yet another 15 or more pounds lighter myself. Thirty pounds doesn't sound like a lot to me right now, though my four-year-old is 40 pounds and if I imagine carrying three quarters of him along for a race, I suspect that it will make a difference.

I've had to put a concrete limit on my intake as that's my bigest problem weight-wise: snacking, snacking, snacking. I don't necessarily snack on bad stuff (chips and the like) but I do tend to favour high-calorie stuff (nuts, trail mix, granola bars, breads of all sorts) so I decided to see how I felt at 2000 calories a day. Two thousand seemed right because I thought a reasonable diet would be about 1700 (I have since learned that 1780 is my daily limit to maintain my goal weight) and I wasn't sure if breastfeeding allowed me an additional 300 or 500 per day. It's day five and it seems to be just the right number to keep me from feeling deprived, though I do have to exercise a lot of self-control to keep from using up all my calories by mid-afternoon.

The really good news this morning was that the scale is finally budging! I stepped on and off three times just to make sure it wasn't reading 3.5 pounds lighter because of standing on it the wrong way. So seven pounds down and uh... only 75 to go. This race at the end of August is my first mini-goal; getting under 200 pounds will be a huge relief!

Labels: calories in, calories out

I ran Day 3 of Week 1 this morning and feel great, but this runners' high must be messing with my mind. I just registered for a 5.5k race for August 30th. I guess I've got to stick with this now, huh? I'll be done C25K August 14 and will need to add another 0.5k in the following two weeks.

It's a run to raise money for a women's shelter, so there's a mother/daughter team category. While I didn't officially enter that category (my girls won't be running at 22m and 4m at race day), I noted on my registration that I will be running with them in a stroller. So now I've got to find out if I can not only run that distance but with a double stroller and two kids! Maybe that's the push to drop some more weight so that I don't have to drag that around too!

Labels: calories out

So what does it really mean when you see ads that claim that so-and-so lost X number of inches? I realize that their total measurements are smaller than they were when they started, but I'm not convinced that there is a standardized total. Surely the total inches lost would look better if you include losses not only from the trunk (chest/waist/hips) but limbs (arms/thighs) as well. Wouldn't it be easier to compare apples if it were expressed as a percentage? Or is that misleading too because perhaps core and peripheral inches are lost at different rates?

I didn't think to take measurements when I started this a few weeks ago. I've always assessed my condition based upon my scale and not a measuring tape, in part because the measuring tape seems rather unreliable -- pulling it a little more snugly easily drops another half inch or so. Being stalled for a while now though, I thought to check on things to get something of a baseline.

And the award for Ms. Disproportionate goes to...

I know I carry my weight around my middle. I always have. I've never had an issue with weight accumulating on my hips and thighs and even now I don't mind the way they are. When I've tried pants to fit my butt and legs, the waistband has always cut very uncomfortably into my stomach, so I've lived in pants that are forever a bit baggy in the behind.

My measuring tape really grossed me out though. I measured my waist first to get the worst news over with, then measured my hips. So am I supposed to measure my hips with or without the apron of skin (and fat) that hangs in front? Even including it, the measurement is a half inch smaller than my waist. If I measure under it, my hips are 4" smaller than my waist. Ugh!

Labels: the shape of things

Little R and I were in a department store today while running a few quick errands; we passed a stroller going the other direction carrying an older toddler sporting a substantial mohawk. Only two steps past the stroller, he asked in a loud voice whether I had seen that the kid had a broom on his head.

Labels: Little R

I have three weeks behind me without losing a pound; not that I've actually been doing anything about it mind you, but really. Ok, doing nothing isn't entirely true; I've bought running shoes, and have had appointments with my GP to talk about weight loss options, get opinions on various diet programs, check fasting glucose, thyroid function and CBC. I also met with a behaviour counsellor hoping she might have some insight into my poor eating behaviour; unfortunately I left that appointment feeling like I'd wasted my time entirely, and have yet to get the bloodwork results from my GP. I agonized a lot about my lack of self-control regarding eating these last weeks, and was on the verge of tears as a result on at least a few occasions.

I'm still not walking as I keep promising, but today was finally Day 1 of Couch to 5K, except that the podcast I thought I had loaded onto my iPod wasn't there. I knew it was supposed to be 20 minutes of alternately walking and jogging, though I didn't have a watch on to improvise that properly either. I didn't let it stop me though and jogged/walked about 30 minutes. I was quite surprised that I was able to run more than I thought I would. It's 10 hours later and I feel perfectly fine -- not overworked or sore in any way -- so I guess I did okay.

With regard to eating, I have it in the back of my mind that I'll be going to Jenny Craig at the end of August. I'm at a point where I need someone else to control the food for me, and I did well the one other time I joined. I really need that kick-start to have incentive to continue. I'm not joining sooner because I'm registered for a two-month fitness and nutrition counselling program starting next month and if I'm really lucky that may get me doing the right things. I'll admit to being sceptical about the nutrition component helping much, as I know a fair bit about nutrition having taken enough biology courses, some kinesiology, and even nutrition courses at university.

So I'll continue to get myself back to running 5K (about 3 miles) and hope that I see the sticky digits on my scale move next week. Couch to 5K is only three sessions each week, but I'm hoping the feeling of accomplishment for having finally gone out to do it carries over, especially into my eating motivation.

Labels: calories out

Baby T was six weeks yesterday and my fantasies of being under 200 pounds at this point have vanished into the ether.

I gained only just over 4Kg (9lbs) through this pregnancy, most of it as water weight in the last weeks. I had hoped that dropping a 7.5lb baby, associated placenta, amniotic fluid, water, blood volume, etc., etc. over these weeks would have seen me dip below the second triple-digit marker, as I lost a lot of weight easily in the first two postpartum months in the past, but at my GP's a week ago I was weighed at 101Kg (222lbs), basically my transfer-day weight. Yuck!

I won't claim I've even been trying to lose weight, but gaining!? Now I really need to get to work. Off to track down that pedometer....

Labels: calories in

(originally posted May 16, 2009)

I am 38.
My birthday is in January, so I'm actually 38.33 years old. There's a point to this.

I am a capricorn.
Strong-willed to the end, I do my best to make sure it happens my way.

I am a mom.
Five weeks ago I delivered baby number last -- a beautiful girl.

I hate to cook.
Though I'm not without opinions on other people's cooking.

I procrastinate.
I'll tell you more about that later.

I love photography.
And used to love being in front of the camera too. Not so much anymore. Not for a long time.

I am fat.
Not just a little overweight, but obese (an ugly word for the ugly state of my body), with a BMI of 35.

I am now also starting the process of recovering my body. I need it back, not only to look presentable, but to be healthy so that I can keep up with my family and be there for them for many more years. 624? Those are the number of days remaining until my 40th birthday -- the day I have set as my deadline for getting myself fixed up and in as good or better shape than I was 10 years ago. I need a deadline or I continue to put things off indefinitely (you really thought I wasn't going to say more about procrastinating, did you), and here it is.

Labels: about me

My life is changing. With the healthy arrival of Baby T I'm no longer obsessing about building my family and the gory details of cycling. I'm still checking on all my friends, but am less and less motivated to post baby stuff (because that's all I have left of that life right now).

I had ducked out to start a new blog to track my new focus -- fixing up my body -- but have since decided that I don't want to maintain two blogs, so am considering boring you with it all. Perhaps I'll start by transferring those first few posts here....

Labels: More About Me

T put her first month behind her on Saturday, the same day I finally managed to snap the tail end of a little smile (blurry and badly composed, but a smile all the same).

{photo removed}

Labels: T

I love photos and really enjoy looking at what others choose to post. So in snooping through Shannon's flickr photos, one of Nick and Nora reminded me of one of my L from last fall, smooshing her face against our camper's screen door:

{photo removed}

Funny how our girls have similar curious proclivities.

Labels: L

I took baby T to the public health clinic to be weighed this afternoon. She lost about 6% of her body weight after birth, but regained it quickly, so there was no need to worry, I was just curious as she felt bigger to me today.

I should have known it would be a farce the moment I walked into the clinic and realized that I didn't bring the diaper bag in with me. Because we're in the middle of a freak spring snowstorm I also wasn't keen on dashing out to get it, so I continued, promising baby a change of diaper in the car.

I opened baby's diaper but covered her lightly with it patiently waiting and expecting a pee because she generally pees when exposed to the air (or shortly thereafter). Nothing. Thinking I was safe and noting to myself that I'd just quickly put her onto the scale, I set her down only to watch her sprinkle herself and the scale with a full bladder of urine. Nice.

After locating some paper towels (all the fixtures are automated in this place and paper towels have become scarce as a result) I proceeded to clean up the baby and the scale. I held her up against my chest while doing this and grimaced as I heard familiar spit-up sounds starting. I fully expected my shirt to get soaked and to have to drive home for a change instead of continuing the errands I had planned, but baby's aim was sharp: she bypassed my scoop-neck t-shirt (not a drop on it!) and filled my bra instead. I can't imagine what the people in the waiting room were thinking as I ran by with more paper towel, this time stuffing it frantically into my shirt.

Labels: Life with Little Ones, T

I've never been a person who really loves the newborn stage; you know: pudgy little sleepers needing endless feedings and diaperings leaving parents to muddle through in a sleep-deprived haze. Give me a kid from age one to about two-and-a-half: walking, talking, playing, exploring, and just wanting to please mama; that's the part I love.

So maybe it's because I've put no pressure whatsoever on myself this time, because it's not my first and it's not twins and weight isn't a big deal and I'm not wasting insane hours pumping and not feeding on a schedule and maybe because I'm certain that this is the last time I'll actually have a newborn, I'm truly enjoying it. I'm getting decent sleep without needing to set an alarm to wake me to feed the baby every three hours. When T is hungry, whether it's been four (and sometimes five) hours since she last fed, or whether only an hour has passed, all she has to do is stir and I'm awake. She has already mastered the 10-minute nurse in stark contrast to the marathon nursing sessions I had with Little R that lasted up to an hour and a half. She's contented and almost never cries, and when she's alert, she's a tack! I find myself trying to soak in every detail of her existence and already feel sad that some of it (like the experience of pregnancy) is gone forever. How maudlin.

Worse, I already have fears about my children becoming teens and having them reject me for the influence of their peers. I'm terrified that as much as they want to cling to me now that they'll later not even want a hug. Will I regret having them so close together then? Will the desire for another newborn well up to satisfy that craving for physical closeness with my babies? There's a lot ahead and I know that time will both plod and speed until we get there, but I can't help but let my mind explore what our family might look like a decade or so from now. I don't think I need to detail it, but suffice to say I'm a mother, and I worry.

So for now, I'm busy cherishing my little ones, while they are still little, even if my just-four-year-old is forever being mistaken for a kid almost two years his senior. I'm excited to see what kind of people they become, but at the same time don't want them to grow up in any kind of hurry. I'm hoping I'll find things to be excited about at every stage as they grow, but I always want to remember how they are now -- loving them as preschoolers, toddlers, and even infant newborns.

Labels: Life with Little Ones

The wait to see my OB was a lot longer than expected. For a variety of reasons (that changed with the hour) we didn't get into the OR until after 1:30pm. My own OB didn't even end up doing the c-section, but the doctor who did has a great reputation and also sutures the incision, so I was very happy to have her do it. My husband made a short video at my insistence because I was frustrated at not being able to see over the drape, and I'm so happy I pushed him because it's a completely non-gory short; it's just my bump, as seen from near my head, surrounded by blue-green gowned people. Where the resident was reaching in to grab baby's head, you can't even see the incision because it's hidden by my tummy. Anyhow, once they popped baby's big head out, she insisted on pushing out an arm and waving to the camera -- I'm so glad I didn't miss that!

My stay in the hospital was short -- less than 48 hours -- but there was no reason to insist on staying longer with the beautiful weather outside. I was lucky to end up in a private room with a view of the downtown which was magical to watch sparkle through the night feedings (and vitals, and meds, and other miscellaneous interruptions) and which was bathed in sunshine all morning long, but was keen to leave after a couple of night nurses (read: young and overzealous) managed to undermine my confidence in feeding my own baby. The day of my discharge, I had a wonderful 50-something woman looking after me and a similarly-aged LC came by for a consult (requested by one of those young nurses) and both shook their heads because baby had, in fact, been eating perfectly fine all along. So I left the hospital happily bouyed by the knowledge that I really did know what I was doing and with gratitude that that particular nurse was scheduled to work that morning.

So what about baby? Well, she weighed 7lbs5.4oz (3328g) at birth and measured 20" (51cm), so Cat's guess was really close. We didn't choose a name for her until just before leaving the hospital, and the one we finally chose wasn't actually one of the ones we thought we would use, but is a name we agreed suits her well. What we're going to call her on a day-to-day basis is still undecided though.

Labels: T

{photo removed}
With only 14.5 hours until my breakfast date with my OB, I thought I'd leave you with a parting photo taken just now at 39w5d. I won't have internet access at the hospital (ack!), and expect to be there a few days, so I'll be missing you guys while I'm gone.

Labels: Pregnancy 6

So I'm still pregnant, surprisingly after this past weekend because we spent a large part of Saturday at an agricultural exhibition and Sunday was Little R's birthday party. It was a small, family-only gathering as I didn't know whether I'd even be there myself. For as much as Little R claimed he didn't want to be four, he sure was happy about the party; we even managed to set off the smoke detector with the candles and sparklers on his cake, and he got especially excited about that.

I still have a feeling baby could show up at any time and after being on my feet all weekend and not drinking nearly enough, my edema has gotten worse. I really need to put up my feet for the next two and a half days, though it makes me crazy to do nothing when there is so much that I still want to do. Perhaps I'll organize a project on which to work while at the hospital....

Labels: Little R, Pregnancy 6

You ladies are brilliant! You do some incredibly interesting things; it's no wonder I love reading your blogs. Thank you guys for sharing.

So my BSc is in Psychology (Neuroscience, like Jenn), my BA is just General Studies (though I took lots of Anthropology courses). I actually started out thinking I would major in Political Science and go into the foreign service, but politics truly isn't my thing. From there I toyed with getting a Phys Ed degree, but teaching isn't for me either.

Certificates are where things get quirky; among them: registered massage therapist; lifeguard and swim instructor; national level coach (volleyball and speedskating); pilot license; business startup; and photography. And I've got piles of certificates for involvement in various activities, like volunteering at the Zoo for the last 11 years, and working as a VIP hostess during the Olympic Games (had a casual dinner with a certain heir to a small Principality back then).

But strangely, I've never really worked in any field for which I've been trained. I've had jobs ranging from Baker (though that was a short-term fill-in for a friend who was short-staffed), through a job at an oil company that had me choosing where to drill gas wells (isn't that what Geologists and Geophysicists are supposed to do?), Biomedical Researcher for a cardiologist, to Construction Site Superintendent (one of only two women in this city doing that job -- I had fun with that!).

So that's more about me. Academically and career-wise, anyhow.

As for the pee breaks, the official line is that none are allowed, but the woman supervising the exam was sympathetic (she has a two-year-old of her own) and would have let me go. I didn't actually take a break as I let myself get a bit dehydrated in anticipation of not being allowed out of the testing room.

Labels: More About Me

Furrow's questions got me to thinking that you probably don't know much about me beyond baby-related stuff, so I wrote up a long post that ended up sounding like a CV and deleted it in the end. Basically, I'm overeducated and underworked (well, at least in a 'going out to make money' sense).

I've got a couple of undergrad degrees, a few diplomas, and certificates coming out of my ears. At different times I contemplated a PhD in Ethology, medical school, and getting a Master of Architecture. My ongoing education is probably the result of my frustration at not pursuing higher education with more conviction (meaning the above graduate programs) for reasons ranging from a boyfriend who couldn't move with me to the school I needed to attend, to thinking I would be too old at graduation (32 or 33 -- ha!). Silly me.

So if you'll share with me a bit about your education and aspirations, I might fill you in on some of the very diverse things I have studied.

Oh, and I learned a good lesson about scheduling the final exam (just wrote it this afternoon) in the last weeks of pregnancy: Find out if they'll let you out for pee breaks!

Labels: More About Me

With our first child, I excitedly counted down the days to his birth, fully expecting him to arrive within a day or two of the imaginary big red circle on my calendar. I couldn't wait to meet him, see what (who!) he looked like, discover his personality, and begin my new life as a mom.

With the twins, I was similarly excited about their birth, in large part because we would have our first girl, but also because the novelty of the twin pregnancy was wearing off.

This time, I've definitely had enough of being pregnant, yet I'm in no hurry to have this one out. No, I'm not whining about her birth date again, but rather I really am happier to have her grow as long as possible where it's so easy for me to care for her versus having her on the outside where there's a pile more work required on my part. Truthfully, I'm least looking forward to losing what little sleep I'm still getting these days.

Having had a baby just under 6lbs and one over 8lbs, there's no doubt that the eight-pounder was much easier. I worried less about when and how much he ate, how much he was sleeping, and whether he was peeing and pooping enough. Another easy baby would be delightful, but I'm sure it's my turn to get a really fussy, colicky one.

So the birth date is still up in the air. I've been putting myself to bed a bit earlier than usual because it seems that most evenings bring Braxton-Hicks at 10-minute intervals, and in an effort to calm my uterus I'm really trying to stay as hydrated as I can without spending my days on the toilet. I'm working on the last assignment I have to complete for a course for which I've got to write the final exam tomorrow afternoon, so that's doing well to keep me off my feet at the moment, but we'll see what the weekend brings -- that's the hardest part of the week right now as I'm usually on my own with all the kids and not supposed to be on my feet much because of this edema.

Labels: Pregnancy 6, Rants and Shoot-Em-Up Stories

I went for my weekly OB appointment this morning and everything was clipping along as usual until he measured baby's heart rate. It was over 180bpm and they don't like it over 160 (it's typically in the mid-150s). Baby had been particularly active in the twenty minutes or so leading up to the doppler, so I wasn't surprised that her heart rate was up, but the doc was concerned.

He sent me down the hall to get hooked up for a 20-minute NST. The printout looked rather ugly and the nurse decided that she may have been picking up some placental blood flow; it hadn't helped that she put the contraction monitor right onto baby's bum, so I felt every little wiggle and set off the 'mark' alarm numerous times with the frequency of my button-pushing. So she moved the sensors and had me sit for another 20 minutes. Fortunately, baby calmed down and her rate seemed to hang in the 150s, but the OB decided I needed a biophysical profile anyhow.

I had a break before the ultrasound to have a bite of lunch and because I had been advised to have a snack to get the baby moving for the scan, picked up a little ice cream treat on the way back to the appointment (good excuse, right?).

I was actually pleased to get yet one more peek at baby and found myself surprisingly unconcerned at the unexplained tachycardia (in spite of having briefly visualized baby struggling with a cord around her neck). The ultrasound let me watch her practice breathing, flex her muscles, and generally dance around. Her heart rate was perfect at 144bpm.

If I'm to rely on the ultrasound (though I have no reason to do so -- weight estimates for my other littlies have been significantly off), baby is currently 2.8 kilos (about 6lbs2oz), and with my cervix still long and closed I'm told to expect to hang onto her for a few weeks yet. If she gains the textbook half pound each week from now until birth, she ought to be around seven and a half pounds. Anyone want to wager?

Labels: Pregnancy 6

Perhaps the lack of comment on my last post was an indication that you ladies are all too nice to call me out on my superficial, self-indulgent concerns.

I did have an 'a-ha' moment in the shower this morning. I was thinking about how much I was thinking about the days remaining until the c-section and realized that I don't have a hospital bag ready. For all my concern about delivering early and my confidence in bringing baby home, I completely skipped the part about needing to be ready to go to the hospital. Gah!

Labels: Pregnancy 6

At the most, anyhow.

I've never been as aware of every Braxton-Hicks and twinge in my abdomen as I have been lately. I've noticed a little more of my hair washing out in the shower and wonder if that means my hormones are changing enough to let this baby out soon. My increased need to pee at all hours has me concerned that she's positioning herself to fully engage.

I worry every day that this baby will come before my 39w6d c-section, the date I've chosen, and while at over 35 weeks that shouldn't be a big deal, I still worry. I don't worry for her health and I don't worry for our preparedness, I worry for disruption of my interest in having her share a birthday with her big brother.

Every day I wish myself to carry this one to that rather arbitrary date but don't feel the conviction that it'll happen and then worry that my disbelief in making it to just shy of 40 weeks will actually encourage labour (or at least prevent delaying it). You know... the strength of the mind-body connection and all.

Of course, there's nothing I can do and nothing I can reasonably ask doctors to do if I go into labour before I'd like, so for me, it's a breath-holding test: seconds stretching to fill interminable frames while the increasing pressure does the same for my discomfort.

Labels: Pregnancy 6

Yesterday's nap was the chosen start of L's move to her twin bed which has sat ready across the room from her crib for a number of weeks already. I wasn't the one to put her down to sleep and came in to hear her muffled cries behind the closed bedroom door. I was told that she had initially climbed off of the bed and clung to the crib, was returned to the bed and left to cry it out. She calmed down within a few minutes of my arrival and I expected she had likely fallen asleep on the floor behind the door as S did on a number of occasions in the first weeks after his transition.

I tiptoed to her room and gently turned the knob. As I pushed, the door resisted and I knew that she was behind. When I was able to peek inside, I discovered a heart-wrenching scene: my little mouse was huddled in the corner clutching her favourite bear tightly to her chest, shaking and with a look of betrayal in her eyes.

My heart sank. I was annoyed that nobody had monitored her more carefully or spent more time putting her down (I lay with S for a while the first few times he was in his big bed), but more than that I couldn't believe my little baby was made to feel scared and abandoned.

I scooped her up and held her close, speaking soft reassurances, then moved to the bed where I lay down with her snuggled warmly in the C formed by my body. In short order she relaxed, her breathing slowed and deepened, and she fell into what was surely the sleep of the exhausted.

The feeling I had upon discovering her and the way she looked in that dim room will never leave me. I don't want for my kids ever to feel like they're alone, unwanted, or uncared-for because the truth is so excruciatingly the opposite.

I have to add though, that she took quite contentedly to her bed last night (though I did spend a while snuggling with her) and even slept in a half hour this morning. In spite of such an awful start, I think she'll be easier to transition to her new bed than her brother.

Labels: L, Life with Little Ones

... are spent wearing pyjamas.

No kidding. It's coming up to two in the afternoon and I'm still barefoot and in my baby blue nightshirt.

I've greased door hinges, organized some other home maintenance stuff, fixed errors on my investments, changed vets, sent away for stuff ranging from specialty gear for DH to baby bottles, filled out forms for preschool re-registration, re-configured the kids' car seats, and cleared away a few things that have been on my to-do list for nearly a year!

If I could be this motivated every day, I would truly verge on dangerous. I just don't look very dangerous with my hair in a ponytail and cute hugging bears screened across my chest.

Labels: More About Me

The furniture was finally delivered Tuesday morning. There's a matching 3-drawer dresser in the closet and I made dividers so that each drawer is split exactly in half. It's actually a bit of a shame about it being in a closet because I like the soft arch of the drawer faces.

There are two of the duvet cover, though S doesn't need his just yet. The blue part has tiny yellow stars but they're much smaller than the moons. I was feeling so pleased with myself to tie that to the wall when I discovered the decals. There's a panel I had originally thought to use in the duvets, but have decided to make into a little quilt (first quilting project, though it should be quite simple).

I really enjoyed putting the decals up this morning. I thought about sticking a couple on the beds or having them run onto the ceiling even, but decided my husband likely wouldn't be impressed; there are a couple around the light switch though. That is really addictive fun! I got them on Etsy and am quite pleased.

Labels: Diva of Decorating ...Not, Life with Little Ones

This is finally feeling significant. Thirty weeks is three quarters of the way through a full pregnancy -- coming out of that last corner and heading for the home stretch. A baby born at this gestation has a pretty good chance at a perfectly normal life. An infertile/miscarrier/general worrier can start to relax and believe that there really is a baby at the end of it all (not that nothing can go wrong now, but the odds...).

With 10 weeks to go, it feels so much like the inverse of the first 10 weeks. Those early days are tenuous, risks of loss are high, anxiety is higher. Confidence is likely near the bottom of the toilet bowl that some are seeing regularly if they're lucky enough to get that awful reassurance.

It's balance of a sort. I like balance, but I'm not crazy about being on the front end of this scale. I like it much better here where I'm content with my little nesting tasks and the kicks and jabs I get as reminders that this is the happy expectant time, and likely the last time I'll be here.

I'm not sad that I may never be pregnant again. I know that I was when I faced not getting pregnant a second time, and I definitely missed feeling a living person moving inside my belly. I suppose this means that I really am done. I'm just coasting and contentedly soaking in what I can of these last weeks before my brain gets fogged by sleep-deprivation again.

Labels: Pregnancy 6

My understanding is that the true "I'm going to have a baby and must clean out all the cupboards at 3am"-type of nesting frenzy happens within a week or so of the birth, but my husband last week pointed it out to me as I was spackling some of the nicks in the wall where I installed a new baby gate (our eldest just irreparably broke the last one) and where the kids play.

"I think I have to keep you pregnant all the time to get this much done." He quipped.

I wasn't impressed. I've been trying to work through a number of the items on my household to-do list and recently that included scouring the city for a replacement cold air return cover (where the old gate used to be, I had notched the existing cover for the gate to swing properly; the new gate is in a slightly different place and I need to avoid the kids cutting themselves on the sharp edge) because actual measurements are different from brand to brand in spite of having the same nominal size, replacing a broken light switch in the kitchen which of course is wired completely differently in spite of being the same brand and style as the existing one, and scraping six-year-old contact cement off of the tile in our ensuite (the cabinet installers made the mess when they installed the toekick all those years ago and I just kept hoping it would wear off on its own).

Part of today's action included the start of the bedroom shuffle for the kids.

Until today the babies (well, toddlers now I guess) shared the nursery with cribs across the room from one another. Little R is in the bigger room down the hall. The plan was to move the boys in together in the bigger room and have the girls share the nursery. The furniture for the boys' room was supposed to come around Christmas, but was delayed and is now likely to arrive in early February. I ordered the mattresses from another store and they did arrive as requested in late December, so today I brought one up to the boys' room and dropped it on the floor against a wall, closing the open long side with a bed rail. It took a half hour of somewhat confused crying before S finally settled down to sleep tonight, but he's currently comfortably snoozing on his new mattress on the floor. If all continues well this week I'll have his crib for sale by the weekend as I need the room in the nursery to put Little R's bed in there for L so that baby can have the original crib.

On the agenda for tomorrow? Sewing duvet covers for the boys (not that S needs one just yet as his Grobag is fine) and putting screws into our dining room and living room hot air vents as I'm very tired of fishing all the kids toys out of there.

So he may be right, though it's clearly something of an extended nesting phase.

Labels: Diva of Decorating ...Not, Pregnancy 6, Twins

...that I have to come here to check my own ticker to find out how far along I am?

Labels: Pregnancy 6

Feel pregnant, I mean; perhaps it goes back to the pure run-of-the-mill nature of the past few months. Most of the time I'm completely oblivious to this two-pound human growing inside my belly. Yes, I'm pooched out (measuring three weeks ahead), yes I feel baby kicking regularly, but I don't yet feel properly pregnant. Does that make sense? Sometimes my only reminder is my maternity jeans racing for my ankles when I walk (how do you keep them up!?). Perhaps the novelty of a twin pregnancy has done this business in for me: there's no monthly ultrasound, and no awed looks after a glimpse at my huge belly.

Don't get me wrong, to quote my dad, I'm "happy as a pig in s[...]" to be having this baby, but I'm also surprised to be in the third tri and still waiting to feel pregnant.

Undoubtedly delivery day will be upon me quickly as a result.

Labels: Pregnancy 6

I went for the gestational diabetes screen yesterday and my results came back just fine. Today I went to see my OB and our visit was equally uneventful: I'm measuring on target and baby's heartrate is where it should be. I've lost a kilo (2 lbs) since my last visit four weeks ago, but even that is a non-issue. So I'm now a pound less than my transfer-day weight (not that I've been eating healthy or doing any exercise), but trust me, I still have enough to spare.

And because it was all so fun, I'll be going every two weeks from here on in.

Labels: Pregnancy 6

in a very large, extremely crowded, courtyard-style cafeteria:

- a Monegasque royal
- a pilot ex-boyfriend
- my husband
- and a rather young unknown hippie guy.

Their zeal to catch my eye led to one of them scaling the wall to reach me at a second storey window.

Yes, the crazy late pregnancy dreams have begun.

Labels: Pregnancy 6

{photo removed}
I snapped this photo less than a week ago and now our poor baby deer has his head completely buried in the snow! No doubt our Christmas will be white this year.

Happy Holidays Everyone!

Labels: Diva of Decorating ...Not

So Day 1 of our resolve to get R out of pull-ups went more-or-less as expected. He spent the morning crying and begging for his 'diapers'. I finally convinced him to put on his underwear by offering to take him with me to run errands, during which time he was even better behaved than usual and earned himself some treats along the way: some play time at a mall and a fruit smoothie while we were out. I made sure to ask him if he needed to pee every two hours and he did so without issue. It was after we got home that he decided he wasn't cooperating anymore and had three 'accidents', one of which was within half an hour of me asking him to go to the toilet.

Day 2 began with a similar, though less drawn-out challenge to get him into underwear. He had had a pull-up overnight, but awoke dry, then refused to go pee and in short order had a wet pull-up he refused to take off. He did finally put on his underwear and spent a good portion of the day with his dad, pulling the same "I don't need to pee." stunt on him that he had on me the day before. Only one peed-up underwear for the day though.

Yesterday was Day 3 and I'm pleased to say that there were no accidents. R was again reluctant to put on his underwear, and every time he went to the bathroom he would tell me in his most annoying whiny voice "I'm so sad; I don't liiiike underwear." So while he's not into it at all, he's making progress regardless.

I had anticipated this to take a lot longer. We had, after all, already attempted to get him out of pull-ups once before -- not a full year ago, I think -- and gave up (laziness on our part though I would say).

So the next question is when to take away the overnight pull-ups. I haven't been paying attention over the last month or so to whether he is consistently waking up dry, so I would say a week or two of overnight 'diapers' is fine -- he really gets excited about them now that he's not allowed to have them through the day.

He'll be getting a new mattress on Monday as he has always complained that his old one is uncomfortable (the furniture for the boys' room has been delayed though and won't get here for another month), and while I do have a waterproof mattress protector for it, I'm really loathe to spoil a new mattress potty-training. I'm afraid this will become my excuse to keep him in pull-ups overnight for a few more months. On the other hand, I could have him continue to sleep on his old mattress until he proves that he stays dry overnight while in underwear, then use the new mattress as a reward for being fully diaper-free. Hmmm.....

Labels: Life with Little Ones, Little R

Pacifier Boot Camp went so well that I'm expanding the program offerings. On for this week (starting today, actually): Pull-ups -- A 12 Step Program. Little R's preschool and music classes are done for the season, so we've got a number of weeks in which to work.

Little R has been potty-trained for solidly more than a year. He hasn't pooped in a diaper in even longer than that. He's very aware of when he needs to go, but out of sheer laziness simply pees in his pull-up, often announcing it to anyone within earshot, though refusing to change into a dry one. These deceptive underwear-like diapers are his crutch -- so incredibly convenient to not have to interrupt the very important things he does to go to the toilet.

I'll admit, they're awfully convenient for us too. There's no scrambling to find a public toilet at a moment's notice when we're out in spite of his aptitude for finding them all and insisting that he needs to pee (only in the public toilets, mind you) in spite of having been only minutes beforehand.

I talked to him about it yesterday, so he would know what to expect when nobody puts him into a pull-up this morning. He stated his outright refusal to cooperate and was advised that he'd then be stuck in wet underwear and pants. We tried this many months ago, and he just continued to pee in his underwear (hyping it didn't make it any more exciting for him), so I fully expect to have to deal with a pee-soaked child for a while.

I know this one will be tougher than the pacifiers, but I'd like at least one out of diapers before we start the next one in them in the spring.

Labels: Life with Little Ones, Little R