Wow, it's a girl!

Well, DH and I almost fell out of our chair and exam bed, respectively, when the ultrasound tech told us it was a girl. But there the evidence was on screen, three little lines indicating a labia and not a ghost of a penis to be found.  

 

This is not so much earth-shaking, you might be thinking, as it seems to be. Isn't there a 50/50 chance? Maybe... 

 

But in our family, on DH's side, it is unusual. This is the first girl to be born into the family in four generations. There have been boys after boys after boys. Literally. DH's father had three boys, and his grandfather had two, and well - DH had one already, and so does DH's brother. I had all but assumed I had a pair of boys in my future. I was envisioning dressing the new one in the older one's adorable, hardly worn clothes. I had recently started sorting things. Little sweet labels from high and low - from Target to Petit Bateau and Le Top, I loved them all and couldn't wait to see them again. But wait! Not to be.

 

Honestly, though - the clothes really aren't that big of a deal. It's just a manifestation of this baby - imagining it in my existing clothes stock helps personify the little bumps and brushes I've been feeling.

 

As I went on with the day following the ultrasound, I thought about what this meant. Around 3pm, it occurred to me that we'd plan a wedding someday. Wow. And later, as I was diapering Garcon, I realized I wouldn't be able to wipe with reckless abandon. No more smearing the wipe to and fro, trying to remove the debris. I'd have to wipe carefully. I would have to wipe from front to back. It seems strange that these were my thoughts - near and far term, in those first few hours. Practical and frivolous. That sums me up fairly well, sometimes.

 

Attached is an image from the ultrasound. You are looking at her tiny feet, with heels at left and toes at right. I joked the first time around that I just hoped for 10 fingers and 10 toes. Everything else would work its way out. This was my was of saying (not so tritely) that I just wanted a healthy baby. Here, looking at this image, it appears that I have at least my 10 toe wish.  

...Pants on fire?

So, let me begin by stating that I'm not disputing that some mothers LOVE caring for a newborn. But for me, in my experience, it just wasn't that way. I loved my baby, but I didn't love the first three months. It was hard. I was sleep deprived. And I was unprepared for the relentless demands of nursing and learning how to care for a baby. It was just harder than I expected.

So when I received an email a friend who has a newborn, I had to ask myself if she was for real. To wit:

"I couldn't be having more fun!  It's been such an incredible 3 months.  Every moment has been so delightful and filled with joy.  You were certainly right when you said parenthood was "the best."

Hmmm...liar, liar, pants on fire?

Maybe it's been her experience. Maybe every moment has been so delightful and filled with joy. Truly, I hope it has. But I'm just a little more realistic about the challenges of the first few months. I wonder if we as mothers are honest with ourselves. I've heard this type of refrain recently from two new moms, including one (I heard through the grapevine) WASN'T having as good a go of it.

I definitely enjoyed comparing notes with a cousin, Stephanie, and a friend, Amber, who gave birth at the same time as me. We were able to say to each other, "You know? This is really facking hard." We felt comforted in being open about it. And then were able to go forward and not find it so daunting: it was a shared experience, and we could get through it knowing it wasn't hard for JUST US. It was hard for others, too.

But there were others, perhaps less familiar, to whom I'd say things like "It's great. I can't believe he's here," or "It's such an amazing time." I wasn't lying about how hard it was, but I wasn't exaggerating my happiness. I'd say these things to people who I didn't know as well or who weren't really asking for a straight answer to "How are you?"

There's definitely a stigma associated with saying motherhood is hard. Or that it was a tough adjustment. But behind closed doors, or in a personal phone call, we do talk about it.
As for my friend, I have to remember that she always has always been super-polished. She may be saying more realistic things to her confidantes.

I hope she IS having a good go of it. (And if she's not, I hope she's telling someone. Or at least on some good drugs. Mmm, drugs.)

Shopping for maternity

So, I always try to follow a sad post with a lighter one. (People, please be sure say a prayer for Evan, my former babysittee who is healing from stab wounds.)

I delivered my last baby in April, and this one will come around Labor Day. So any self-respecting mom can see this poses a problem. I'll be at my biggest at the exact wrong time of the year for my maternity clothes, and few things can be re-worn. Sweaters good for March not good for August.

It was my goal to spend about $500 for a summer maternity wardrobe that could work at work, and also give me lots of options for play. And I actually came in under budget, with a ton of options.

I already had some pants:
Maternity chinos (black, white)
Maternity jeans (2-3 pairs)

Several skirts of various waist strechiness
Maternity dresses: 2 pucci style prints, black wrap with small dot pattern,
Some random tops and tees, nothing overly coordinated.

I needed some things to pull the looks together. Last weekend, I took advantage of the Ann Taylor Loft Friends and Family discount, and dropped about $200 on a number of staples and fun pieces. This was after my 25% Ann Taylor Loft F&F discount, and after another 10% discount for breaking down an finally opening that card account. Most of my core work pieces are from Ann Taylor and ATLoft - I don't know why it took me this long. So I probably would have spent $300 sans discounts. This included:

Maternity madras skirt
Three patterned tanks for under suit jackets or just with shorts
Black short-sleeved suit jacket (non-maternity)
Maternity white jeans
Maternity brown dress pants
Darling maternity wrap dress at a HUGE steal: $3.88, I am not making this up.
Two pairs of shoes
 
The black jacket goes over anything, and makes me client meeting-ready. The white jeans are so fresh for summer, and I love wearing white to work, because you really can't wear them at home with a two-year-old. The madras skirt has a ton of colors, and will go with everything. Overall, I felt hugely victorious.

Then, I went to H&M to check out their maternity offerings. Mixed bag in the maternity line, but better luck elsewhere in the store. More on that tomorrow.

Scary news

When I was 13 or 14, I babysat for a wonderful family living down the street. Their two boys were called a handful, but they were always energetic and interesting when I sat for them. I just learned that the older one, Evan, was a victim in a stabbing on Sunday in Des Plaines. How horrible. The story is here:

http://www.chicagotribune.com/news/local/chi-northside-home-invasion-apr21,1,6739083.story

He received 8 stab wounds and his girlfriend received 5 wounds.  Evan ran after the guy, caught him and held him down. His other roommate got to Evan right away and then called the police.  The attacker was caught.

The good news is, Evan is going to live, and is already off the ventilator. He'll walk again with therapy. Unfortunately, this is too scary, and too close to home. I just feel for his mother.

Get well soon, Evan!

It never fails...

So, I've been coasting along in this second pregnancy, never worried a bit. Well - worried a bit, but compared with last pregnancy, hardly worried AT ALL.

Probably 29 of 30 days in a month are worry-free. But I always get myself worked up the day before my monthly appointment. What if something's wrong? What if they can't hear a heartbeat? What if - in the case of tomorrow's appointment - they can't see all four chambers of the heart? (More happily, I can't wait to find out if I'll be buying pink or recycling much-loved blue baby clothes.)

And of course, on this day before the 20-week ultrasound, I read something about Asperger's Syndrome. And how stress of coping with autism-related spectrum disorder it may or may not have contributed to the demise of Penelope Trunk's marriage. I religiously read PT's blog, Brazen Careerist, and relate to her drive, ambition and work ethic. So my heart broke for her, and a little for me, and maybe for this healthy (I hope) child in me, as I read her post regarding her marriage, blogging, and the New York Times article.

I'm almost positive things are going to be fine tomorrow. But I can't help get a teeny bit worked up in spite of it.

CUBS WIN! And so do we...

We took Garcon to his first (coherent) Cubs game last night. He's been before, but was about 4 months old, so it doesn't really count. It was a beautiful night, and the Cubs won 12-3 against the Reds.

Garcon was energized by the crowd and stayed awake until about 10pm. He can now say "Go Cubs" (fist in air) and "Baseball Game." His main highlights were being hand-fed bits of hot dog, putting as much nacho cheese in his mouth as possible, and riding the choo-choo (EL red line). There was yelling and clapping, a lot of people everywhere, and something about a ball, and that was okay by Garcon, too.

By the way, I'm a huge fan of the stroller check at Wrigley, available near the northeast entrance/3rd base side. What a smart idea. Truly makes it possible to walk to the game with a child, but then you don't have a wrangle a stroller through the stands. Love it!

Oops...Cindy McCain's Family Recipes

So if you follow politics, you probably know that people are twittering today about the supposed McCain family recipes. Turns out they were lifted word-for-word from The Food Network and Rachael Ray.

http://www.huffingtonpost.com/david-weiner/mccain-family-recipes-lif_b_96666.html


Now this is funny, and I'm no Cindy McCain - though I hope I look that good in my 50s - but I've done this. Lifted recipes, I mean. A few years ago, we put together a family cookbook. My mom has eight brothers and sisters, and it was a no-brainer - we all love to cook. Or at least think we do. I love to do it when I'm relaxed, have enough time, it's not 6pm on a weekday, and the baby isn't crying. But that's another post.

So I assemble the cookbook, and notice we're well-covered in the dessert and hors d'oevres section, but a little lean in the entree and vegetable sections. So, I do what any good publisher would do, and that's give the people what they want. More recipes. I went to Recipe.com, Epicurious.com, and just browsed around for things that looked good. Recipes I might want to make. Someday.

We publish the cookbook, and everyone eagerly looks through it. Mom's Red Velvet Cake, Ed's Beer-Braised Brats, all the old favorites were included. Plus the ones I tossed in there. Not a minute passes, and my dear hubby totally OUTS me. "Hey Jules - I'd love to try your famous homemade pretzels someday." Oops. BUSTED. Of course I came clean, and everyone agreed my little additions looked good, but I guess the moral of the story is don't claim a recipe if you don't want your husband to tease you about it for years. "Hey, when am I going to try your special veggie casserole?"

This cracks me up every time.

Important Statistical Information

Stuck in an elevator - true story

It's not easy being vain...

So, last time I went to the laser hair removal office, I got stuck in their elevator. No kidding. It was about 6:00pm, the office was closing down, and for some reason the elevator emergency phone wasn't working. I had no signal on the iPhone, so I banged on the door a few times and actually yelled HELP. It was a surreal experience.

After waiting a while, nothing happened so I dialed 911. Amazingly, the signal boosted and I got through immediately. Four firefighters and paramedics showed up and opened the door. (and yes, they were cute)

I got out and hustled down the stairs. Outside there were two trucks, so it was all very exciting.

Today, at my follow-up appointment, I avoided the elevator. Half way through treatment, the aesthetician asked me if I was that girl stuck in the elevator last time. I'M TOTALLY FAMOUS.

Old Navy sale and free shipping

Hot tip from my best shopper...

Old Navy maternity stuff is on sale and free shipping on orders over $50.  Use code SHOPNSHIP.

 

Happy shopping!

My baby is two!

I can't get over how capable my little guy is. Such an amazing difference between one and two. Lately, I've been awed at his developing language skills...how we're almost having "conversations" about things. In addition to the well-honed "No," he is now saying "yeah, " which enables us to have a little dialog. "Garcon, can you find your shoes?" "Yeah." I love this...

He likes to wipe up his place at the table, after eating, and then put the paper towel in the garbage.

He likes to keep his hands clean, and when he gets something on his shirt, we might hear "OH, NO!"

This "oh, no" also manifests when he wants to tell me something is amiss. He's lately been walking into a room, announcing "Oh, no!" Which is a signal for me to follow him so he can show me what's wrong. A lot of times, it's nothing at all - but I love this little indication - and that he knows he's communicating.

When we call Bruno, our dog, he also calls him: "Nu-no!"

New words are emerging every day - I can't wait to hear what the stories will be tonight. Pick-up is my most joyful time of the day. I love walking into his classroom, and the little red-headed bundle of happiness barrels toward me: "Maaaaammmeeeee!" The mother and child reunion...

Putting on Easter slippers

"Pruning" a plant

Inspecting his work...

Happy Birthday, Baby!

Holy cow, this is funny.

Courtesy Where Hot Comes to Die