First Day of School

We took Brigid to preschool for the first time this morning.

We walked into the classroom, she held onto my purse straps for 30 seconds, Steve asked her if she wanted to go play with the toys...

...and off she went. We barely got good-bye hugs out of her before she became too busy to deal with us anymore.

And just like that, she's too cool for her parents, now. It was a good (almost) three year run we had there with her, I guess.
Kids, man.

(Seriously, I am glad there was no drama in the preschool process...she went in, she loved it, we left her there for three hours. It was much less painful than I thought it would be. Of course, that didn't stop me from weeping to Steve as we got back to the car about how 'Brigid didn't know we were leaving! In ten minutes, she's going to look for us and realize we're gone and OH MY BABY!! She's going to be so upset!'

To which Steve replied, 'Honey? She knew we were leaving. She's just OK with it.'

Oh, fine. Whatever. She had fun. My ego is bruised. Everyone is happy. THE END.)

26-Week Update

I have this pregnancy tracking app on my iPhone that updates me on the baby's progress each week, while also offering 'helpful' tips each day about what I should be eating, why it's normal that I feel like I should just move into the bathroom since I spend most of my time in there anyway, and how my weight gain should be progressing. It's annoying, really, all of those shoulds, but it has a nice countdown the the due date, so I just focus on that part.

Anyway, one of those daily tips that recycles through every few weeks is the reminder that I should be tracking pregnancy memories along the way, since I will want to remember this whole experience someday in the future.

Well, you want a pregnancy memory, iPhone app? Have I got a pregnancy memory for you...

I went into the doctor's office today for my gestational diabetes bloodwork test (to make sure I don't have it, as is standard procedure), and the took belly measurements, to see where I was along the progress chart, size-wise. I will be 26 weeks along tomorrow, but today?

I MEASURED AT 30 WEEKS!!&*&%#!!

I measured ahead with Brigid, too, but the most I EVER hit was two weeks ahead. Now I'm at FOUR?!?!

No.

I even made the NP measure a second time, because COME ON. And still...30 weeks.

She said since the baby measured normal at the last ultrasound, there's really nothing to worry about, so there's that. But at this rate, by the time the end of my pregnancy comes around, someone will need to roll me from place to place, because I will be just one large ball of pregnancy belly.

That should be a good look for me, no?

Changes

I haven't exactly been completely rational about dealing with this whole growing up thing that Brigid has insisted on doing over the last (almost) three years, because I am very prone to the lovely (and extremely annoying) 'WHERE DID MY BABY GO?!?!' type of whining and hand-wringing, but lately she seems to be taking it to an entirely different level that I am having even more trouble accepting.

As of last night, she randomly stopped calling Steve 'daddy', because he is now just 'dad'. As is 'DA-ad. Come ON! Let's GO!'.

I mean, come on. She is almost three, here, not almost thirteen. Don't we deserve another couple of attitude-free years?

(When we were at preschool meet and greet this morning, though, I think she reverted back to 'daddy', so all may still be right in our world. For a few more days, anyway.)

She invents entire narratives in her head, with no input from the rest of us. She talks to herself (as she told us last night, when we tried to figure out what she was saying in the backseat on the way home from dinner), and she doesn't want to tell us what she's saying.

She knows all of the words to the 'I Feel Better' song from Doc McStuffins. I don't know all of the words to that song, and I've heard it enough that I should.

I have two (kind of loud) necklaces that are the exact same, with the exception of color. I wore the yellow one today, and I had to double check with her to see if I'd worn it last week, or if I'd worn the pink one, instead. She told me I'd worn the pink one, and she was right.

It's nice to have that kind of help, since my own memory is obviously shot right now.

She wants to play Go Fish. All. Of. The. Time. Which, you know, isn't annoying at all (insert sarcastic tone, here), and she constantly tells me she's 'kicking my butt' at it. I have plans to introduce Elf on the Shelf at Christmas time this year, as well as an Advent activity calendar, and I'm always wondering if she's going to get the story behind the elf or want to participate in the activities, but she will. Because she is this little person of her own, now, whether I think she should be or not. She has imagination and memory and creativity and opinions, and it is the most awesomely amazing thing I've ever seen develop. But it's also the most heartbreaking, because yeah...she's growing up.

I want to do nothing but hold her, and squeeze her, and kiss her cheeks, and cuddle with her on the couch for hours at a time, but she's never been a fan of that before, and she's even less ok with it now. So, I settle for whatever kisses she'll give me, whatever 'I love you mom-mom's I get as I'm leaving for work, and I'm happy with those.

And I just try to ignore the rest of this getting older thing that keeps happening whether I want it to or not.

(And, at least I can comfort myself with the fact that although she's growing up, and she's developing a little diva-ish attitude that I can't seem to fight, she's not the kid that, when asked why she wouldn't tell her new preschool teacher goodbye as we were leaving today, yelled 'BECAUSE I DON'T LIKE HER!' in front of a bunch of strangers. So, there's that...)

(Seriously, that poor mom. She was mortified. And I'm sure it didn't help that the other 7 or 8 people standing around at the time couldn't keep a straight face at the announcement, but you know...we're only human.)

School Days

Last night, Steve and I went to a parent orientation meeting for Brigid's preschool (a small class of almost three-year olds run by the church right across the street from our house).

Tomorrow, Steve, Brigid, and I are all heading to that preschool (again, small class, two teachers, a tenth of a mile away from us) for an hour of teacher/classmate meet-and-greet time.
Friday, we will be expected to drop Brigid off at that preschool (right across the street, seriously), and LEAVE HER THERE FOR THREE WHOLE HOURS WITHOUT US AND WHAT WERE WE THINKING AND OMG HOW AM I SUPPOSED TO DEAL WITH THIS?!?!?!?
You guys...

This is NOT going to be a good experience for me, is it?

Flashback

So much changes in such a short time, doesn't it?

The Bump: (almost) 25 Weeks

I've done an absolutely terrible job of documenting this pregnancy around here, what with my all-consuming desire to just get these nine months over with already, so I can move on to the sweet and squishy OMG LITTLE BABY YAY FOR BABIES!!$#*&!*%! portion of the party, but yeah...
Let me introduce you to Big Hoss, my very pronounced baby bump. BH and I aren't exactly on speaking terms at the moment. I mean, she's doing what she needs to be doing, what with all of the healthy baby growing and whatnot that's happening right now, but did we really need to get THAT BIG, THAT QUICKLY, there, buddy? I am NOT exaggerating when I say that I know three people who are due before me (INCLUDING ONE PERSON WHO IS HAVING TWINS, FOR THE LOVE OF ALL THAT IS GOOD), and I've got them ALL beat on the size of my stomach.

Fifteen weeks to go, kids. Fifteen weeks to go.

Now, who wants to start taking bets on how many times Hoss and I get stuck in our beach chair while we're off on vacation next week?

A girl and her dad...

...and their iPad.
This kid? She's better with technology than I am, and I am not exactly bad with technology. Did I ever tell you about the time she ordered a $65 set of dishes off of my phone during a bathroom break? Dishes that were final sale, no less? And matched absolutely NOTHING ELSE IN MY HOUSE?

Because, yeah. That happened.

We really, really ought to look into getting this girl a playset for the backyard, shouldn't we?

Many Faces

Brigid had a dentist appointment on Monday morning, and she was a total superstar, with only one minor breakdown when the hygienist rubbed the flouride stuff all over her teeth.

And really, if you've tasted that fake bubble gum flavored crap, you really don't blame her for that small crying jag, do you?

Anyway...what better way to celebrate a teeth cleaning than by undoing all of that hard work in the dentist's office with a trip for gummi bear topped ice cream?

I still taste that flouride. I sure wish my mom would do something to make this all go away...

GUMMI BEARS!!!! ON ICE CREAM!!! Score.

Gee, mom! You're totally the best.

I am the luckiest girl in the whole wide world. With the best mom, ever.

Wait? WHAT? I have to SHARE this ice cream with you? That's total BS, mom.

Total. BS.

Baby, The Second: Week 23

We went in for our third ultrasound today, with the added fun of a fetal echo request, because we wanted to see if we'd be facing a similar heart issue with this one that we faced with Brigid. Not that we'd be able to do anything about it if we did find a problem, but you know when the absolute worst time is to find out that there is a problem with your baby?

When you've only had that baby for 24 hours. Hospital hormones are not to be trifled with, my friends.

The good news is that, as far as they can tell from the ultrasound, we don't seem to be facing the same issues here that we faced with Brigid. And that's somewhat of a relief, anyway, even if you can never be 100% sure that everything is ok until she comes out.

(Also...she's still a she, as evidenced by the shot of her girly bits she greeted us with, clear as day, when we started the ultrasound process. So, we have that going for us, which is nice...)

The bad news is that it took us an extended period of time to get the views we needed to show that there didn't seem to be a problem, because this kid is STUBBORN. Every time the ultrasound tech had me shift so she could get a better look? This little snot shifted with me, effectively blocking whatever it was we needed to see. We had the same problem with Brigid, when they were trying to get a decent measurement on her at her second ultrasound, to the point that they made me get up off of the table and sent me to the waiting room to 'bounce around in my chair for awhile', to see if she'd shift to a more manageable position.

That's right...I raise them difficult over here.

But...things are good. All of the baby's measurements look fine, I've passed all of the bloodwork tests they've given me, and her heart appears to only have holes where it should have holes. She did measure in at 1lb 7oz, which, at this point, puts her in the 58th percentile in size, compared to her big sister, who, at an ultrasound two weeks earlier in the process, weighed in at 1lb 2oz, which put her in the 77th percentile.

If she keeps this up, my doctor might actually expect me to go at least the full forty weeks this time. I'm going to have to get back on the Oreos to beef this kid up, I think...

Baby's first...broken nose?

The day of the accident:
The day after the accident:
So, Brigid fell yesterday. Apparently, with a blanket in one hand and a toy in the other, she didn't have a free hand when she tripped over someone else, so she broke her fall with her nose. I was in the other room when it happened, and all I heard was a thump, followed by a pretty prolonged wail. By the time I got to her, a few seconds later, there was already a line of bruising across the bridge of her nose. I'm going to take it as a good sign that the bruising never progressed to her eyes, but we're still keeping a close watch on her, to make sure that when the swelling is completely gone in a day or two, nothing looks off-kilter on that cute little nose of hers. Otherwise, we're looking at a trip to the doctor to get a broken nose reset.

Let's all just hope it doesn't come to that, ok?

A few more...

(I forgot to include these in my list of current Brigid-isms yesterday. And heaven forbid I ever forget them, because then I won't be able to tease her mercilessly for them at some point in the future. And that's what parenting memories are all about, right?)

My legs not working.

Translation: I don't want to do whatever it is that you want me to do, I'd rather just roll around on the floor and whine right now. But if you offer me ice cream or a cookie? It might just fix my legs...

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Lay here with me a couple while.

Wait a couple while.

Me want to play in here a couple while.

This one is probably mostly my fault, because I think it's HILARIOUS that she combines 'a couple minutes' and 'a little while' into one phrase, and I ABSOLUTELY REFUSE TO CORRECT HER. Ever.

And really, who could blame me?

Brigid Says...

I cuddle with you, now. Cuz daddy's not home today.

Have I mentioned lately how much of a daddy's girl this kid is? I hope I have better luck winning over the second one...

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Wait for I!!

Mommy bought that for I.

Me want a snack.

Trying to explain the difference between 'me' and 'I' in various grammar situations hasn't actually been the most successful thing we've undertaken in this kid's life...

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Because me 'ike it.

The perfect answer to everything from 'why did you kiss that boy?' to 'why did you poop in your pants in the middle of the grocery store, then not tell me until you'd been rolling around in the cart for awhile?' to 'why didn't you TELL ME you needed to go potty instead of peeing all over the neighbor's carpet, you heathen?!?!?'.

Not that ANY of those questions have ever been asked of our dear, sweet angel, mind you...

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My kitty cat not happy. My kitty cat sad because he no have mommy cat.

Guess which almost three-year old DIDN'T have to fall asleep on her own, last night, because she knows how to play her mother like a fiddle and managed to con said mother into sitting with her until she fell asleep?

Who wants to tell me why I'm not the favorite, again?!?

Love

This kid, right here?

When I look at her, my heart is so full of love that it hurts.

I really am a lucky, lucky lady.

Long October

I know I've said this before, but it deserves repeating: my husband and I are BIG Halloween people.

Well, Steve is a big Halloween person. I just like any opportunity to decorate my house in crazy ways, and after several years of marriage, he finally pulled me away from the cutesy fun of Happy Halloween, Y'all! (which was the extent of my neighbors' decorating plans last year and also very nearly the end of our friendship, sadly) (ok, no, not really...but don't think we haven't considered decorating their house for them, just to keep up appearances) and into the dark and creepy side of things.

And honestly, I'm sad I'd never given in before. Because giving into a haunted house meant several husband-sanctioned shopping trips to creepify the place up all that much more. And that is ALWAYS a fun time...

But beyond our crazy obsession, Brigid was always ok with this. The creepy stuff just didn't seem to bother her, at all. I mean, this is the kid who had a Nightmare Before Christmas themed second birthday and latched on to a fake skull as something she HAD TO HAVE on a shopping trip to Target. As long as it didn't jump out at her suddenly, it was cool.

Unfortunately, I think that easy-going luck of ours may have finally and fully run out, as my poor kid began to cry HYSTERICALLY in a Hallmark store today when she caught sight of Snoopy in a Halloween mask.

Snoopy. In a Halloween mask.

Hysterical tears of fear.

This probably means she's not going to be a huge fan of the zombie farmers on our front porch come October, doesn't it?