Letdown

Poor Brigid. Last year, Steve and I went all in on her birthday theme of Nightmare Before Christmas, with awesome invitations, an elaborate cake, more-than-was-actually-needed food (including a hot dog bar, with NBC themed food cards), and an entire set of plush NBC characters to sit around the kitchen.

This year, all of her little friends have incredibly recently born siblings, her ballet theme request has been less than easy for me to follow through on, and everybody will be lucky to get an email from me, with the party information included.
With no exaggeration on my part, I feel pretty confident in saying that she's getting this...
...and some pink and white balloons. And that's about it.

And you know what? She won't even care. She'll have sugar to eat and presents to unwrap, and she will be perfectly fine with just these two things to keep her happy.

So, why am I all upset about my lack of creativity/preparation this year, again?

Fresh Start

After all of the drama of last week, I think our family needed something fun to kind of reset the mindset around the house. And what better way to do that than to eat a LOT of apple pie?

I mean, uh, go apple picking?

(THEN eat a lot of apple pie. And apple fritters. And drink apple cider.)
I don't think we're entirely all back to normal, yet (at least, I kind of HOPE we're not all back to normal, yet, because if Brigid's new normal is asking for daddy nonstop when daddy is not available, and crying when she realizes that she can't see him, then I foresee A LOT of stress in my future...), but I think we're getting closer.

And, if not?

Well, then at least I have pie.

(And vanilla ice cream and caramel sauce, of course. Stress requires the big guns, after all...)

Week 29 Update

Hey! I'm still pregnant! And I'm still ridiculously uncomfortable! And I'm still generating gasps and giggles from people who haven't seen me pregnant before and don't know to expect that I will be extremely large when this whole process is over.

And don't remember that they report to me and that I am responsible for their annual reviews, OBVIOUSLY.

(Moral of the story? Don't laugh at your largely pregnant boss, mkay? Pregnancy hormones are not your friend.)

And do you know who else needs to watch herself around me right now? That almost three-year old living in my house and keeping me awake all night with her fevers and croup and no sleeping and steroid fueled rages against the injustices of being handed milk that SHE ASKED FOR 30 SECONDS EARLIER.

Oh, I'm sorry. Have I not mentioned this new development?

Brigid had a fever last weekend, which I did mention. But right about the time that fever broke, and we thought things would be getting back to normal, she developed a cough. And she coughed herself physically ill one night during bedtime. Then she woke up, and nearly coughed herself sick again that night. THEN she woke at 6AM, struggling to breathe through all of that coughing. And that, right there? It freaked me the hell out.

(Also, it should be noted, she'd woken me up at 4:45AM the day before, then didn't go to sleep that previous night, and woke me up again at 1:30. And I'm pregnant. Pregnant and sleep-deprived people are not rational people. So, please do not judge me when I admit that I thought she had whooping cough. Because...I did.)

Steve had to be in Charlotte that day, so he left around 7AM. I had Brigid to the doctor at 8:45AM, and she displayed absolutely no symptoms of having anything wrong with her (because kids are sneaky like that) until the doctor pulled out the tongue depressor, at which point I had to physically restrain my daughter while she started coughing and wheezing again.

And the doctor, without hesitation, diagnosed croup. And put my kid on a small amount of steroids to reduce the airway inflammation so she could breathe. And warned me that the medicine might make my kid just a little more irritable than normal.

And here is where I tell you that that night? When Steve wouldn't be home from Charlotte until close to 10PM?

That was the night when Brigid decided around 5:30PM that she NEEDED TO SEE HER DADDY RIGHT THEN AND HER MOTHER WAS THE WORST OF ALL EVIL AND GET AWAY FROM ME YOU PSYCHO WOMAN HOW DARE YOU ASK ME WHAT KIND OF SNACK I WANT WHEN I ASK FOR A SNACK READ MY MIND AND BRING IT TO ME RIGHT NOW.

At one point, I called Steve, and without saying anything, held out the phone so he could properly hear Brigid screaming for him at the top of her lungs. He mentioned he might decide to stay overnight somewhere between Charlotte and Atlanta, after that call. Not that I would have blamed him...

I also took a small, thirty second video of my dear, sweet girl rolling around on the bathroom floor after her bath, screaming baby obscenities at me because I had the audacity to get her out of the bathtub when the bath was over, so he would have an even better idea of how awesome our evening had been. Because I am a giver like that. And you'd better believe I would post that here in a heartbeat...

...except that she was nekkid as a jay-bird in that video. And I do have some lines that I don't cross.

But it was pleasant.

Finally, last night, Brigid was asleep by 8PM. Today, Brigid woke up at a normal time. And she seemed fine. And she went to preschool, where she cried for Steve when he left her, until they gave her a toy to play with, and she moved on. She didn't drop her night-night the entire time, except when she ate lunch. But she stayed for the full four hours. And she was just one slight cough among the sea of disgusting kid-germs that is her preschool class right now, according to the teachers.

So...I can't wait to do this all again next week, I guess.

And my youth wept...

I have a confession to make...

My husband and I? We are officially minivan people.

I don't know how it happened, or when I became my mother, but there you have it. I own a minivan.

(Side note: There is nothing wrong with being my mother, I swear, because she is exceptionally awesome, and I love her very much, but it's still a very jarring moment when you realize that you are officially the adult in your own life, and apparently, getting a job, buying a house, and having a kid didn't do that for me. It was the freaking minivan that pushed me over the edge. I am a slow learner, it seems.)

The saddest part about all of this? The minivan might be the coolest car Steve and I will ever own. It has navigation and a back-up camera and an air-conditioned snackbox and an entertainment system and voice controlled EVERYTHING and more buttons than a spaceship. And I love every inch of it.

And I'm jealous that it's Steve's car to drive for the next few months, because we traded in his car to get it.

See, my mother-in-law (who will be watching Brigid and child-to-be-named-later three days a week) has the same small, two-door car that won't accomodate two car seats as I do, so Steve and I will apparently be a three car family, come next spring. I have my car to drive to work, we will look into getting a smaller car for Steve to drive to work in early 2013, and then we will have the minivan that stays with whoever is responsible for the kids on any given day. It all makes my head hurt, really, but the bottom line is what it is...

I own a minivan. And I couldn't be happier about it.

(Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm going to go console my 22-year old self while she does shots of vodka and weeps about what an old lady she's become...)

Baby's First Fireworks

We were supposed to have fireworks for our town's birthday about a month ago, but it got called due to rain. So, when we had our 'Taste Of' festival this weekend, they decided to do the fireworks then, instead. And Brigid LOVED them...
For about the first minute and a half, anyway, then she got bored and wanted to spend the rest of the time running up and down the sidewalk instead of watching the sky.

But that minute and a half was TOTALLY worth it...

The Little Sneak

On Monday, Brigid went to preschool, and she was fine.

On Wednesday, Brigid went to preschool, and my mother-in-law was called, an hour and a half into a four hour session, to come pick her up because she was crying and complaining about being tired.

Today, Brigid went to preschool, with her night-night in her bag for emergency consolation, if things got bad again. Steve told her it would be in her bag, and it should stay in her bag unless she ABSOLUTELY needed it.

According to Brigid's teacher, Brigid spent all day asking for daddy while carrying her night-night around with her, although she was still participating in class, and the teachers weren't concerned about her behavior. And then, as the parents started arriving for pick-up, she put her night-night away, so Steve wouldn't see that it had been out. Her teacher said she is an excellent actress.

This is gateway behavior for putting on make-up and slutty clothes in the high school bathroom, isn't it?

Week 28 Update

I don't remember having too many problems when I was pregnant with Brigid, and when she came out, she was just as laid-back and easy (or as laid-back and easy as a baby can be) out in the world as she was when I was carrying her.

Which is what has me terrified of the kid I'm carrying this time around. There is more movement, which I am, in my infinite pregnancy logic, taking to mean that this second child will not sleep for more than 30 minutes at a time. And I don't know if it's the fact that I know what kind of awesomeness waiting for me now, when I didn't before, but this pregnancy seems to be twice as long as the first one. And since I already HAVE Brigid at home, there is much less time for sitting on the couch and relaxing, and between that and the increased responsibilities at work now, I. AM. TIRED.

And then.

THEN this kid decided to give me indigestion so terrible last night, I really thought I was going to be sick. Which meant that even when I should have and could have been sleeping, I was not actually doing anything of the sort.

I mean, I know that we're not supposed to play favorites with our kids, or anything, so I'm not...

 

(But Brigid is totally winning right now...)

Step Back

So, Brigid is three for three on uneventful preschool drop-offs! She has no problem just turning her back on whichever one of us is leaving her there for the morning, to go play with whatever awesome toy or awesome new friend catches her eye first! So easy! No drama! A lot of ego bruising, sure. But no drama!

This was the conversation I had with my mother-in-law at 9:15 this morning, after she'd said goodbye to Brigid and left her to her four hours of schooling. Easy as pie, right?

Oh, hello there, Smug Sally...you might want to hold off on that conversation next time...

UNTIL YOU'RE SURE YOUR KID CAN MAKE IT THROUGH THE ENTIRE FOUR HOURS, FIRST.

Guess whose mother-in-law got a phone call an hour and a half into the day, to come pick up a toddler who wouldn't stop sobbing, 'I tired'? Oh, right, that would be mine.

Poor kid. She's really going to have to start getting herself to sleep before 10PM, now isn't she?

Vacation 'Memories'

On the trip back to Atlanta from Florida, Steve asked Brigid what her favorite part of the ocean was, and Brigid, adorable little scamp that she is, told us it was going potty in it. Because that, apparently, is what she remembers most of the six days we were at the beach...

Me teaching her that she could go potty in the ocean if it meant that my pregnant self did not have to walk her back to the beach house every time she needed to go.

(So, who is holding onto my mother of the year trophy for me, again?)

And that, my friends, is how my darling husband ended up spending our first two days back at home trying to brainwash our daughter into thinking her favorite part of our trip was 'finding seashells', because we weren't sure what the preschool teacher would think of us teaching our kid to go potty in the ocean, in the event she happened to ask Brigid the very specific 'what was your favorite part of the ocean?' question.





It did not come up in conversation when I picked Brigid up this afternoon, so I'm just going to assume that our little secret is safe for now. Because, obviously, the preschool teacher that I've met all of three times now would absolutely call me out on Brigid peeing in public if it had come up at any point today, right?

Right.

(Wrong. Still, I don't think it would have come up. So, we're fine...for now. I wouldn't put it past Brigid to bring it up completely out of the blue a month from now, though. She's sneaky like that...)