Sugar and Spice!

16 weeks 4 days

I think we pretty much got the best news ever on Saturday. We're expecting a little GIRL! That's proof that 1) Shettles may be on to something, and 2) I have no maternal gut instinct whatsoever. Was totally convinced we were having a boy. It's amazing how much more I'm enjoying this pregnancy now that I know! I love saying "she" when I talk about her. It gives me this warm and fuzzy feeling. I guess I just feel incredibly blessed to get one of each. My little boy is just about the coolest kid around. And now he gets to have a baby sister. I wonder if he knows it's going to be his job to beat up boys who look at his sister the wrong way, so his daddy doesn't get arrested for doing it... Ah, well. We'll cross that bridge when we get to it... ;)

There's another reason I'm excited about having a little girl: her name. We're going to name her Neva (pronounced NEE-vuh) Katherine. Neva is my grandma's name, and I've been really looking forward to giving her a namesake. I also like that I've never met a Neva besides Grandmama, and that my son sounds super cute when he's tries to say it.

Basically, I'm on cloud 9 right now. That's all there is to it.

7 Years to Live

11 weeks 5 days

Well, I'm 33 years old now. Yep, I had a birthday this week. Turning 33 isn't exactly a milestone year. It's just a little step deeper into my 30s. But it does remind me that this ladder eventually gets to 40, and that seriously freaks me out. I was 16 when my mom turned 40. That was not very long ago. I cannot possibly ever turn 40. Ever. :)

But, anyway, I had a really fantastic birthday. Ryan took off work, and we drove down to LA. Yes, I tend to spend special occasions in LA. I can't help it. I love LA. I spent the first 12 years of my adult life (yes, 18-30) there. Most of my closest friends are there, with a couple of exceptions. But those exceptions are like me - transplanted elsewhere, but LA girls at heart. I dragged Ryan downtown to Little Tokyo so I could get the spicy champon ramen I crave all the time. There isn't a single authentic ramen place in Bakersfield. The closest we get is Pho, which is good, but not the same. Then we saw Avatar on IMAX which was awesome. I know people have mixed reviews of the movie, but I thoroughly enjoyed it - and enjoying myself was the whole point of going. :) After that, we met a few of my favorite people on the planet for dinner at Pizzeria Mozza on Highland and Melrose. Oh my goodness - so frickin' good. Seriously fantastic. Go there. But yeah, anyway, it was a perfect birthday.

In other news, I'll hit the magic 12 week mark on Saturday. Nothing really magical about it, except of course that it's the time when gals like me with morning sickness are supposed to finally get a reprieve. Mine has been waning substantially, but it'd be nice to say farewell for good. The belly is growing, and the waistline is disappearing, but I'm still not gaining weight, which rocks. But the pooch isn't exactly looking "with child" yet. It looks more "with ice cream". I do enjoy the 2nd trimester when the belly is more substantial, but isn't controlling your life yet. Looking forward to that, for sure.

So, to recap: I'm 33. My birthday was awesome. Ice cream. :)

Maybe a He

10 weeks 2 days

Intelligender has predicted that we can expect another baby boy in August. Okay. First things first. The Intelligender test is only supposed to be 82% accurate, and it's more likely to be wrong if it tells you you're having a boy than if it tells you you're having a girl. So, naturally, I'm grasping at every possible reason that it could be wrong. But I'm not writing it off completely, which is why I'm now on the baby boy name search. We have our girl name, but we're stalling a little in the boy department. Even names we've liked for a while are starting to seem less likely now. I'm compiling a whole new list to run by Ryan, in hopes of finding that perfect little brother name... just in case. But I already scheduled our appointment at Baby Sightings for the gender determination ultrasound on February 27th. So, we'll find out soon! (But it's never soon enough!)

In other news, the morning sickness is definitely starting to subside. I still have my moments, and I'm still too nervous with the motion sickness to drive over the grapevine, but I no longer feel like crap all day long. And THAT is RAD.

That's it. Short and sweet.

The Window

8 weeks 4 days
Today, we had an ultrasound of the little bug. It was rad. Not because there was anything extraordinary about the experience, but because even an ordinary ultrasound is just about the coolest thing ever. It's a window into a life that's being knit together in a woman's womb. I mean, honestly, the experience is pretty amazing. I'm looking at that teeny grape-sized person, with a strong heartbeat, all its tiny organs, and it's arms and legs wiggling away, and I am in awe. The little ultrasound picture doesn't do it justice, because you can't see the movement and pumping of the tiny heart. It's mesmerizing. I see this little person, and I love it. And I can't wait to find out if it's a boy or or a girl, so I can stop referring to my child as "it". :)

In other news, I have another little miracle right in front of me. Man, my son is cool. I'm glad I didn't give up and run for the hills when he was a non-sleeping, colicky newborn with reflux. Ha ha. None of those challenges stuck around, but the kid sure did. Every evening, Ryan and I find ourselves having the same conversation. "Man, that kid is getting fun." At 21 months, Wyatt is a mimic. He's still hard to understand, because while he knows lots of words, he has his own pronunciations and he fills in the blanks with gibberish. He makes almost everything into a game. He is imaginative, and silly and has ridiculously well-developed fine motor skills. He is still very tall for his age, and he runs full-tilt from point A to point B. Why walk, when you can run? I'm glad he's so charming. I'll have to remind myself of it over and over again when we have a newborn in the house with less, um, personality.


Yep. It's a good day. My morning sickness stuff has lightened up considerably after a few rough weeks. I still get queasy. Heck, I still toss my cookies from time to time. But it's a few waves of nausea instead of entire days of it. It's better. It's getting there.

Nesting, Phase 1

8 weeks 2 days

We interrupt this whine and moan fest for a message from our sponsors. This pregnancy is brought to you by HGTV. And TLC. And Discovery Health. And the Food Network. Yeah, it's weird. The moment all those heightened levels of HCG and Progesterone hit my blood stream, I find myself pulled to cable television channels with themes about house & home & health. Without fail, shows like "Divine Design" and "A Baby Story" find their way back into my boob tube queue. It's almost like nesting comes early, and only in theoretical watch-it-don't-do-it form. I watch cooking shows but don't try to cook the food. I watch home makeovers and don't change a thing about my own abode. I fixate on high risk deliveries all the while praying for simple and low risk.

Not really sure what the deal is. I just know it happens. After the new bug makes his or her appearance, I'll lose interest in most of these shows and channels. I'll go back to watching the news, catching prime time dramas, and praying for other things, like SLEEP.

Ungrateful. And That's Okay.

8 weeks

So, what would you prefer? Want me to be honest, or peppy and PC? If you chose the latter option, I apologize. Not gonna happen. I believe, that while optimism is an important trait, so is honesty. And I think if someone reads this, and is in her first trimester just trying to survive, the last thing she needs me to do is tell her that I'm coming up roses, thinking every second about the miracle of life! Come, sweets. Let's commiserate. I won't judge you for having a natural reaction to difficult physical conditions! So, anyway, we're off and running...

I know some women really love being pregnant. They enjoy every day of the miracle of life, and they never complain. I can admire their goodness and light and all that, and in a way, I'm jealous, but I'd be a poser and a liar if I told you that's how I feel during pregnancy. Especially the dreaded first trimester. I hate feeling queasy. I hate being scared to drive anywhere because I toss my cookies if I ride in a car. It's a finicky, sickly, exhausting, uncomfortable, not-so-exciting period in this little miracle. So, for now, I do NOT love being pregnant. I am ungrateful and grumpy and really wishing I could just go to sleep and wake up at about 12 weeks along. I'd like that. I'd like that a lot.

Now that I've gotten that part is out of my system, on to the good stuff. First, believe it or not, this pregnancy has been easier, so far, than my pregnancy with Wyatt. I spend every day queasy or nauseous, but I've only thrown up a few times. With Wyatt, it was almost every day from weeks 6-14. So while I don't feel fantastic, I'll take it. Second, I've lost weight despite the lesser pukage. Like I said, I'm not PC. I'm female. I like this. Third, I'm getting Chipotle today! And I'm pretty sure I can eat it. I'm pretty sure it will stay where I put it. I could be wrong, but at least I'll be going down swinging. Fourth, we have an ultrasound on Wednesday. I love them. I'd get one once a week if they'd let me. Seriously. And fifth, I'm ridiculously lucky to be married to the kind of man who'll take charge of things when I'm feeling off. Who'll take our son on errands and out riding and out to garage to "help" with projects. Ryan rocks it in the responsible daddy department. He adores his son, loves spending time with him, and makes runs across town to places like Chipotle, monkey in tow, on his vacation, because his wife really really really wants to try eating one of her favorite foods. I'm a lucky girl, and for that, I hope to NEVER be ungrateful.

Gag me with a Spoon!

7 weeks, 2 days

If it was a beating heart that helped me feel more secure about the outcome of this pregnancy, it's the onslaught of morning sickness that has sealed the deal. Something can always go wrong, of course, but the most common thing would be a 1st trimester miscarriage. And the odds are increasingly in favor of success with every nauseous day that passes. As much as I hate this part, morning sickness is evidence of a healthy pregnancy. That doesn't mean if you don't get sick, your pregnancy isn't healthy; you just have no evidence either way. Sickness screams it from the roof tops. So in that regard, the bug and I are passing with flying colors.

This pregnancy is definitely different from with Wyatt, though. The queasiness and milder symptoms showed up earlier this time, but the all-out morning sickness hit later. (Which is a blessing, because if I'd followed my last pattern to a t, I would have been in the midst of the worst of it over Christmas.) And of course, I have a toddler this time around. That's the funny part, actually. My son is now playing pretend with the sounds of gagging and moaning. I even saw him this morning fake puking into a toy bucket! Holy cow, kid. You're a riot. Ryan's been home a lot over the holidays, so that's been great. But when Ryan's gone, it's pure comedy. When I'm at my worst, my son runs wild while I lay pretty helplessly on the couch. Last night, he found a box of tissues that he emptied all over the living room. Luckily, the hard parts come and go, so when I feel better, I can right at least the worst of the wrongs, ha. But my son is under a little less supervision than usual...

Hello, television nanny. What's up first? Handy Manny or the Backyardigans?

A Beating Heart

For the last few weeks, I've really wanted to blog about our latest news. Wyatt's gonna be a big brother! I've wanted to write down every little thought and feeling and physical change, and share the news on the forefront of my mind. But, thanks to the confidence-rocking miscarriage experience of a year ago, I decided to bite my tongue and wait. And wait. And wait. Every day felt like a week. Our goal: To see a strong heartbeat at our first ultrasound. Well, yesterday we saw just that. A heart rate of 154. Our little bug is thriving, so we're ready to tell the world. It's still early. A lot of people would wait longer. Hit more milestones. But I'm a writer. I need to write about milestones. I need to share, because keeping it inside hurts my head. There's a tiny little being with a beating heart hanging out in there, and I think she (hopeful thinking) is here to stay... well, until August at least. Then she gets to take up residence in the rest of the world.

So, changes. I've lost 8 pounds since I got knocked up. And, no way, I'm not dieting. I think the bod's just working really frickin' hard. I actually thought maybe it was twins, because I hadn't lost weight in the beginning with Wyatt until the morning sickness began. This time, I've only had a few bouts of nausea and sickness so far, but I'm dropping weight pretty fast. Who knows? Maybe it's a girl! Maybe that's the difference. Or maybe we really are having twins, and one was just hiding behind the other one in the ultrasound, haha.

I'm not shy about the fact that I'm hoping for a girl. I know that's not very PC. And I will obviously be madly in love with a little boy, too. But we're not planning on any more pregnancies after this one, so I'd really like to complete the set. Heh. And, while we're not quite ready to share our current name options yet, I have a girl's name I would really like to use. And I want to SHOP for a girl. They're superficial reasons, of course, but reasons nonetheless. And of course, mostly, I just want to experience being the mother of a girl. I want to give my parents their first granddaughter. Yep. A definite preference. Sue me.

I think that's all for now. I hope you all have a fantastic Christmas! God bless us, every one. ;)

Word.

I recently read that at my son's age (19 1/2 mo), he's adding a new word to his vocabulary every 90 minutes. Now, I don't know if that's just waking hours, or averaged based on a 24 hour day. What I do know is that, regardless, that's a lot of new stuff to say. I think it's referred to as the "language explosion". I love hearing him say new things. The only problem is that a lot of those newbies totally throw me for a loop. It took me about a week to realize, for instance, that "awahnee" means "I want it." In case you think he's referring to the famous lodge at Yosemite. And "iman" is not the supermodel from the 80s married to David Bowie. "Iman" means "Come on". Wyattese is a tricky language, but I have a team of translators on the job day and night.

This week has been rough. Wyatt's been great, but I've had a cold. It's hard to be on top of everything when your head is in a vice grip. And so, my kid has a few more freedoms than usual right now. Hey Wyatt, climb down from that 10' ladder. If you fall down, it could take me a while to remember how to dial 9-1-1. We're making it work, though. I thought about calling in sick, but figured leaving Wyatt in his crib all day would be asking for trouble. Out of pure hunger, he'd figure out how to climb out, and then my prison tactics would go the way of the dodo bird. Can't have that.

We're also prepping for more quality one-on-one mommy-kid time. That's glass half full code for single motherhood. Ryan's leaving again for South Dakota on Friday. The good news is that Wyatt and I get to fly out to see him on Tuesday and stay for a couple days for Thanksgiving. So it's only 4 days solo bookended by 2 more days solo. Ryan should be home by next Sunday sometime. And thanks to the same generous benefactor that allows us to use the SD ranch, we'll be flying private, so I won't have to do the airport security thing with a toddler. I'll admit it seriously weirds me out that my son's first flight will be on a private jet. I may need to get pics of him next to the plane in the hanger with sunglasses on, and start calling him Vinnie Chase. (I'm not sure. Is the mommy blog reading demographic the same as the Entourage demographic? Show of hands...) So anyway, the flight should be a lot easier than a typical traveling-with-toddler scenario. But lest you think he's being raised a spoiled brat, I hasten to remind you that he has a built-in humility regulator: i.e. we're raising him in humble Bakersfield. (Apologies to Bakersfield, which is actually a rad place to live. Sadly, a lot of people won't see it that way, because their only real education about Bakersfield has come from its freeway properties and it's non-LAness.)

So, anyway, to summarize: Wyatt talks. I'm sick. South Dakota for Thanksgiving. Bakersfield is rad.

Mommy Meets Judge and Jury

And then it was Fall. I guess this blog is seasonal. So, anyway... The monkey is now almost 19 months old. He's a rascal. Adorable? Heck yeah. But a RASCAL. Ha. He climbs shelves to get to "out of reach" coffee cups. He then drinks said coffee, spilling half of it on himself and the couch. He pulls bottles of wine out of the wine fridge. He pulls outlet covers out of their plugs. Basically, if he can climb it, knock it over, throw it or snatch it, he will. He is an evil genius and an angelic whirlwind. He is a toddler. And as far as I can tell, even with all that, compared to a lot of tykes out there, he's a really good kid.

And, as it turns out, this is also the age by which parents are judged. This is where people watch you intently to see how you'll handle the latest bit of toddler terror. This is where your family is suddenly public property. Discipline is at the forefront of conversation, and even the most gray minded people you know become apostles of the black and white. Their way or the highway. It makes me mad. But I think I just need to let it go.

Here's what I know: I care about the character of my child. I don't want him to be spoiled, nor do I want him to be opressed. I'm pretty sure that it's my job to teach my son about responsibility. About community. About faith. About consequences and rewards. About real life; not bubble life. And I'm going to do that in the way my husband and I have agreed upon, even if it's not in perfect alignment with the world's latest "only way" parenting craze. Child psychology is great. Sure. But the philosophies change with every generation. One guy writes a book and suddenly last year's wisdom is thrown out the window. New is better. It's shiny. I wonder what new study will overshadow everything we know today? I guess we're all kooks to somebody. So, yes. I have strong opinions about raising MY son. I promise not to inflict them on you. Just do me a favor and give me the same respect. It's none of my business whether you use time outs or lollipops or spankings or distractions or a mix of all of the above. I'll save my concern for the truly unwanted. The truly abused. The truly neglected. I'm just glad you love your kid enough to parent. That's pretty awesome.

Thumbs up. You're doing a good job. Ignore the snide look from the know-it-all in the corner. :)