Family of 4

I'm writing this before I can post it because I don't want to forget. And I want to share it all with you. If it were public knowledge I would be writing about this baby all the time but until we tell everyone I'll have to keep drafts and you'll have to pretend it's a flashback.

Blink again, it won't help. I said baby. Surprise! Baby #2 is on his/her way! Actually not so much of a surprise. We tried for another baby for almost a year with no luck. I eventually sought out help from my OB/GYN who referred me to an infertility specialist.

It was devastating to me to think that I actually needed infertility treatment. I never thought that would be me. But, because of my PCOS and despite the metformin I take I still don't ovulate. I'm just not able to get pregnant on my own, which is painful to admit. I'm a woman, my job is to repopulate the earth and I can't.

I am not in the business of playing God. I believe that God makes babies, not doctors. So right from the beginning Brian and I decided that we would not do any form of in vitro fertilization. But I also believe that it's my job to take care of the body God gave me and make sure it's working properly. We decided to go ahead with fertility medication to make me ovulate. All this did was get my body and my hormones back in working order and then we still had to get pregnant the old fashioned way. (TMI? I don't care) God still created this little gummy bear inside me.

It was a slow process and the first cycle of medication didn't work. I got impatient as we neared a full year of trying for a baby. The anxiety of every late period and the pain of every negative test started to wear me down. We started talking about adoption thinking that this wasn't going to happen for us, and still I tried to be patient and remind myself that God has His own timing. This is not easy for a person who likes control and thought out plans. I had a plan too! I had to remind myself daily that my plan didn't matter.

But God did have a plan and He has blessed us with our little bean and we couldn't be more excited. So you're going to be blombarded (blog + bombarded, get it?) with baby posts until we catch up to the present state of my gestation. And then it'll ease off. Or not. Pregnant women love to talk about their pregnancies....

This One Time...

I tell bad stories.

Usually I don't know enough details to form complete thoughts, or rather I've forgotten the details. The result is usually a tangled rambling of "Shoot, what was her name? I forget what she bought but... Actually I don't even know why she was there. Maybe it was George" In the end you've got less than half a story with no point and your brain feels like it's had a good go around with a salad spinner.

If that's not the case I have too many details. If I remember everything, I will tell you everything, and then some. It'll take me 12 minutes to tell you I bought Coke on sale because they story will start with my neighbors dog barking at 4am. Trust me, the two are related.

So, really, when I start telling a story just tune out and smile at me every once in a while so I think you're listening. It's probably best this way.

Credit Card Emergency!

I recently used my Victoria's Secret credit card that I hadn't used in a while. I couldn't remember if I opted out of paper statements or not. I didn't want to forget about paying the bill or pay it late so I called the number on the back of the card for the balance.

I got the automated system "Welcome to your Victoria's Secret VIP Angels account. Please tell us how we can help you." I hate these things. I pressed 1 for account information. Then I pressed 1 for balance. I waited. A man answered the phone and the following conversation took place:

Me: Hi I'd like to get my account balance and the due date, please.

Man: Excuse me?

Me: I'd like to get my billing information, balance and due date.

Man: Ma'am, you'll have to call your credit card company for that, this is 9-1-1.

*WHAT*

I apologized profusely and explained that I DID call the number on the back of the card, I was even connected to the credit card company. I pressed 1 and then he picked up.

Actually, I dialed the card number, which ended in 9. Then I dialed the appropriate numbers for my selections 1, and 1. Apparently even if you're already connected and you dial the sequence 9-1-1 your call will be interrupted and a dispatcher will pick up. I bet they hate that.

Adults Need Nutrition Education

I stopped at Subway today between a meeting and my shift at the hospital. The lady in front of me blew my mind.

I noticed her when I walked in the door because the 2 year old she was with was very proud to show me his "chips." They were cheetos. She was clearly the grandma, but still. You're going to give your 2 year old grandson a whole bag of cheetos for lunch? Shut your mouth, Kelly, it's not your kid.

She sat him down in a booth behind the long line with his orange fingers and told him to sit quietly. Has she ever been around a 2 year old before? She turned her back to him to order and never looked back. He, of course, was pacing the booth seat and jumping up and down.

She ordered him the kids meal which is a tiny little 3 inch sub, a snack and a drink. When asked what kind of dressing she said mayo "on both sides of the bread." They globbed the mayo on one side of the sub and the other side with meat, because it was already on the sandwich. "Well, I wanted it on the bread but thats ok." The worker scraped it off and put another glob on the other side of the bread.

When asked if she wanted apple slices or a cookie she couldn't decide so she asked the little boy, who was now at her side jumping up and down. Of course he said cookie. What did you think he was going to say? And chocolate milk to drink.

This is why our kids are fat, America. It's because people like her let 2 year olds have cheetos, chocolate milk, mayo with some bread, and a cookie for lunch.

Now I'm not saying my son's grandparents don't give him cookies every now and then. They're grandparents. And I am not a perfect mother. Maybe that child never gets chocolate milk and this was a special treat. Ok. But then at least get him the apple slices.

She seemed completely oblivious to the choices that she was making and I think that's what frustrated me the most. Maybe it's just her generation, though. My step mom thinks fruit snacks count as a serving a fruit because they are made with real fruit juice, that fried mozzarella sticks are healthy because it's cheese and that's protein, and that baked potato chips are good for you because they don't have any trans-fats.

sigh

More Recent Happenings

Just before Easter my in-laws came into town to visit. They stayed with us for a week. I love my husband's parents, I really do. I couldn't ask for better in-laws. In all the years we were dating they treated me like family and they have always been supportive. But having house guests for a week, no matter who it is, gets a little taxing.

First, the cleaning. I deep cleaned the house before they got here. Things I don't do on a regular basis (but maybe should) like scrub the grout on the counter and shampoo the carpets at 11:00pm. And when they leave, the cleaning. Because after a week with two extra people in the house there are messes in places I forgot about.

Second, it's exhausting. We did something everyday. We went to the zoo, we went to Seaport Village, Easter at my step-brother's house, we went out to dinner, out for ice cream, shopping, and on and on. Plus we were up late every night chatting and playing cards. I still had to work two of those days and I didn't get much sleep.

It really was a lot of fun, though, and Papa spoiled Caleb like crazy. He got so many new toys and more treats and snacks than we normally would have given him. Caleb got to ride a train for the first time, too. We decided to take the trolly to Seaport Village and he had a blast.

It was really nice having them here but at the same time I'm glad to get back to our normal routines and have my house back.

He Is Risen. With Candy.

It’s been a while, I know. I’m not dead. Just busy which, at the end of the day, makes me feel dead. What’s new since we last met? A lot. A lot. I’ll break it down and not bore you with it all at one time. I’m sure it’s not all as edge-of-your-seat-gripping to you as it is to me. And honestly, not all of it is that thrilling to me either. I’m talking myself out of followers, aren’t I? I’m sure you’re really excited to keep reading, let alone come back tomorrow. Clearly, I’m awesome at blogging.

I’ll start with Easter since it’s fresh. Caleb had so much fun this year, including 4 different egg hunts. Yes, four. He had one at school with all his friends which was organized chaos and hilarious to watch. I reused those eggs and their contents for our own hunt Easter morning in our yard. Saving dimes ladies and gentlemen. We also went to Seaport Village (cute little pedestrian area of shops and eateries right on the bay) for their annual egg hunt. There were 8,000 eggs and I swear 3 million kids. Since it’s sponsored by a local radio station some of the eggs had great prizes in them like Disneyland tickets. We didn’t score any of those. In fact, Caleb only got about 7 eggs. Seriously, out of 8,000 reported eggs he got 7. It really wasn’t very well organized. Hunt #4 was at my sister-in-law’s house before the family dinner. Hot dogs, by the way. Because we’re classy.

Caleb also planted jelly beans the night before Easter. After his bath we checked and saw that they were growing! I replaced them with whoppers eggs which everyone seems to hate but I actually love. Proven by the fact that I hate the entire bag minus the 9 I put in the pot for him to see. Then in the morning he checked and saw that they had grown into suckers. He was in awe. “Pwease eat?!”

We didn’t do pictures with the Easter bunny because, lets face it, he’s terrifying. Caleb thinks so, too, and I don’t blame the kid for being scared of a 6 foot rabbit wearing an ugly vest with a creepy smile and a head bigger than his 3 year old self. At least Santa still looks like a human and talks to him.

So Easter was fun and over as quickly as it came. Caleb had so much sugar from the “treasure” inside his eggs and cookies and cupcakes at the family dinner that he didn’t sleep well at all. The lack of sleep didn’t bother him because for the next 4 days all I heard was “Pwease candy?”