tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-79537024604326149612024-03-13T06:17:23.900-04:00Baby BednarczykChelseahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09127604185426482524noreply@blogger.comBlogger356125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7953702460432614961.post-9841033690941696722017-02-26T09:11:00.001-05:002017-02-26T09:11:10.498-05:00Can you just look at me?Yesterday was Wyatt's first birthday and it was nice and sunny outside. It was very warm, much like the day that we brought Wyatt home from the hospital, almost one year ago. I had some great photo ideas in my mind. All of my boys, smiling in the sunshine. But with three children, those ideas rarely come to fruition and I could really do well to manage my expectations a bit better. <div>So outside we go, I'm ready for photos and the boys are fussing already. Logan doesn't want to go outside, Wyatt is ready for a nap and James... well James was actually still feeling very helpful at this point. So I set Wyatt down in the grass, forgetting of course that my babies tend to hate grass the first few times they sit in it. Is that just my kids? Who knows, but we're 3 seconds in and the baby is screaming. Looking at those photos later was actually pretty funny, but I wasn't feeling so funny at the time. I pressed on, trying to get my shots. But Logan didn't want to stand by his brothers and James kept squinting, the sun was just glaring in his eyes, he claimed. </div><div>Adam suggested that we move the baby onto the porch and out of the grass and that cheered him up momentarily. But Logan still didn't want to look and James was still squinting. And then I turned into a mean mom. I was yelling, upset and overall just wanting my photos. </div><div>Mean mommy. It happens, right? We all lose it from time to time. </div><div>So inside we went. And then I cried. I cried and cried. I couldn't help it. James and I talked and made up. I was upset with him for being such a brat and he was upset at me for being demanding. It happens. But then as I sat with my biggest boy on my lap, still crying, because that's just what I do, I realized something. </div><div>I was crying because I'm scared. I'm so scared to forget exactly what my babies looked like or smelled like or felt like as I held them in my arms. I so badly want to capture every moment I can because I'm so scared that I might forget it all. I know this fear seems a bit over dramatic and knowing me, it probably is. It's not possible to remember everything and it's definitely not possible to take every picture. But we get told every day, every single day, to "enjoy every second". And that's not an easy task. You really can't enjoy all the moments, I certainly haven't enjoyed the flu were recovering from. I need to give myself a break every now and then, capture the memories in my mind and not try to force it. </div><div><br></div>Chelseahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09127604185426482524noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7953702460432614961.post-81249362948633772282016-08-30T15:40:00.002-04:002016-08-30T15:40:50.056-04:00Wyatt's birthdayOh hey! Hey there, blog reader... <br />
<br />
Wyatt Edison is 6 months old. I haven't gotten a haircut or lost all the baby weight or written a blog post, so I figured I'd knock one out...<br />
<br />
Blog post it is!<br />
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Really, I want to record my memories of the day Wyatt was born, before I totally forget. To be totally honest, I've already let a lot go that was there, so I better get this out.<br />
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February 25, 2016 started out as I expected it to. I had been off of work for a week, expecting to deliver Wyatt via C-Section on March 3, 2016. But as usual with my pregnancies, my blood pressure was starting to go up and I was gaining water weight like a champion. I was going to twice weekly monitoring appointments with the high risk OB and on Thursdays this was in the afternoon.<br />
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After a few trips to labor and delivery to check on the baby earlier in the month (and 2 days before he was born...) I had already started bringing my hospital bag with me. I went to my appointment on the 25th fully thinking I would have the baby that day. Adam went to work. Because he's Adam, that's what he does on days we have babies, he goes to work. But even before I left for the day, we had a plan in place. I made sure to eat lunch, building in 8 hours in which to make sure the boys were picked up from daycare and looked after for the evening.<br />
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So off to the doctor's appointments I went. I had a non stress test in labor and delivery and then waddled upstairs to have a bio-physical profile ultrasound and my usual check up done. These events are all kind of hazy, I remember a bit, but I was tired and huge, having gained 25 pounds alone in the final 2 weeks. My doctor (a man, worth noting in my opinion) was out on vacation, so I saw another doctor. She took one look at me and decided that I needed to have the baby. While my blood pressure wasn't terrible and I didn't have any immediate signs of pre-eclampsia, my history was enough to give her concern. Plus, I honestly think she saw how miserable I was. She let me know that Dr. Kessler was on call in labor and delivery all night and that she would be delivering the baby.<br />
<br />
So I wandered back to labor and delivery and got in bed for the long wait. It was a long wait for lots of reasons, mainly I was nervous. Being nervous causes your blood sugar to tank, so I was not feeling so well. Then the contractions started. Yes, early labor started while I was waiting for my C-Section. I'd never had any contractions before and holy crap... they were for real. Once my blood sugar started to really bottom out, we decided that I could have a ginger ale. And another ginger ale. It was a clear fluid, the doctor said. It was fine, the doctor said... It was fine until it wasn't fine and the doctor found out that we'd need to wait another hour. By then, an emergency had come in, so we waited longer. My surgery that was scheduled to happen at 8:15 finally started around 10:15 pm.<br />
<br />
Adam had arrived and was keeping me calm, I had my phone charger, a catheter and comfy pants on, so really I could have waited longer. But all of the waiting was making me nervous.<br />
<br />
Finally they wheeled me back to have the baby. The nurses and doctor were great, but then the panic set in. I'm not a fan of getting an epidural. The big needle in the spine freaks me out and I knew it was coming and I'd had 2 before and yet, I was still freaked. Then I found out that while I'd gotten an epidural for pain management (where they leave a tube in your spinal column) AND a spinal block (a shot of numbing juice) for James and Logan, I was only getting a spinal block. The change was because I was in a different hospital. So even though essentially, the same thing was happening, I still felt even more nervous. <br />
<br />
After a spinal block, you rapidly lose feeling in your legs. I had some pretty large legs at this point, so the staff scrambled to get me strapped down to the table. This left me feeling like I was falling off the table, even though I wasn't.<br />
<br />
Adam came in and sat with me. The surgery started. It feels like it took longer than with the other two, I'm not certain it was. I started to sing a song to keep myself calm. The anesthesiologist thought I had lost my mind. And then the baby came out. And then they pushed a shit ton of drugs to calm me, even though I wasn't that upset, at least in my mind. Wyatt wasn't screaming much. He wasn't silent like James, but he wasn't bellowing like Logan and that made me worry even though I was totally out of it at this point. I barely remember seeing him, although there is a picture. I was dozing in and out to the point of snoring a bit. But the baby was breathing too quickly and his blood sugar was too low (shock there, I was chugging ginger ale to make it to surgery) so off to the NICU he went.<br />
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Finishing up with me took awhile, they had to tie my tubes and put me back together. The doctor did a lovely job of tidying up my previous scar, but it took awhile. I went to recovery and spent the time worried and embarrassed. I felt a bit the way you might feel after a night of drinking. You don't quite remember it, but you know you might have done something dumb and honestly, even writing this, I still feel the same way. <br />
<br />
I was moving towards getting another pre-eclampsia diagnosis and knowing that would mean 24 hours of magnesium sulfate (aka the worst drug ever), the nurses ran another series of lab work on me. This meant another 2 hours in the recovery room, so by 3 am I was finally moved to my own room. Around 9 am that morning, Adam got to go see the baby in the NICU and found out that he'd be leaving soon. It took another 3 hours and I finally got to hold my not so little, little guy.<br />
<br />
He had very chubby cheeks and I worried that he might not be cute. He snuggled right away and was very calm and content. My heart could have exploded with happiness.<br />
<br />
February 25, 2016, 10:57 pm, 10 lbs., 10 oz, 21 1/4 inches long.<br />
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<br />Chelseahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09127604185426482524noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7953702460432614961.post-55855335020442703912016-08-30T14:26:00.000-04:002016-08-30T14:26:32.058-04:00One year agoI use an app called "Timehop" and everyday it shows you pictures and social media posts from years past. Sometimes its a happy reminder, a time I had with friends that I'd forgotten or a cute baby picture of one of the boys. Or its a reminder that things that once upset me greatly weren't that bad, like this week when I relived the entire week we spent without power 5 years ago. Sometimes they're a great reminder of exactly how much things have changed, like when I see a post from my now ex-stepfather. Funny how someone can so quickly remove himself for your life and really its almost like he was never there. In some cases that can be a good thing, I'm not sure how I would feel about it if it was someone who I really wanted in my life. <br />
Today, there was a picture of Logan, standing in his crib. One year ago, Logan was still the baby and we'd only just found out that we were expecting. One year ago, I was a nervous wreck while James had his first few days of kindergarten. And one year ago today I was pregnant, but still looking pretty thin and almost athletic.<br />
All of those things were going on one year ago, but they don't seem that far off. And the sweet picture I saw of little James' toes from 6 years ago doesn't seem that far off either. <br />
Wyatt turned 6 months last week. In the blink of an eye we're almost done with the newborn phase. The phase that really brings to light the thought that "days seem long, but years seem short".<br />
So we move along, each day bringing its new challenges, but I've learned, especially with 3 young children, that every phase is a challenge and the ones we are dealing with now are probably the easy ones.<br />
I smile every morning when I open Timehop. The boys crowd around and guess who's baby picture we're looking at. They laugh when they see mom and dad without them. Hard to believe one's parents had a life before they came along! Chelseahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09127604185426482524noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7953702460432614961.post-36206312011418358272016-02-12T05:59:00.001-05:002016-02-12T05:59:34.265-05:00SleepLast night I slept 8 non consecutive hours, 4 in bed and 4 in the recliner. I'm calling this a win. <div>Yesterday, at 36 weeks, baby measured an estimated 8 lbs, 6 oz. he could gain up to 2 more pounds in the next 3 weeks. We have a scheduled C-section on March 3, so my high risk OB seemed to thoroughly enjoy my horror, in a way that almost reminded me of my father. I'm not sure why the baby being so big seemed to terrify me, I guess it makes me think I haven't been doing a good job with my blood sugar. But it really hasn't been bad, so we'll blame genetics, Adam was mere ounces shy of 10 pounds at birth. </div><div>I took a personal day today and am planning on resting most of the day, I am in great need. </div>Chelseahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09127604185426482524noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7953702460432614961.post-34663353003708398122016-01-22T02:50:00.001-05:002016-01-22T02:50:33.970-05:00AwakeI've now been awake for over two hours. James had a nightmare and came in at 12:30 am and I've been up ever since. I spent the first thirty minutes in bed, but then migrated to the living room. <div>I'm alternating between work stress, generalized anxiety, pregnancy insomnia, heartburn and the nagging cough of last week's virus. And so, I usher in my 33rd year. </div><div>I also kind of want a snack. But I can't eat until I pee. Again. And the bathroom is upstairs and I'd hate to wake Adam. Again. Also eating may lead to more heartburn. But having something in my stomach may help the acid stay down. It's really a toss up. </div><div>My hands are numb from my bloated wrists and tapping this into my phone has made me feel a bit calmer for the moment, although slightly more hungry. Between an impending blizzard and sorting out the previously mentioned work stress, tomorrow is going to be a long day. I suppose that's part of the hilarious anxiety keeping me awake. I am anxious because I know how tired I will be. Oh Chelsea, 33 weeks pregnant and 33 years old. </div><div>Note to self: accomplish what you can at the office. Go to library to pick up held books. Go to chiropractor to sort out back. Take the liberal leave already on the table and take a damn nap. </div>Chelseahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09127604185426482524noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7953702460432614961.post-40707756042446464932016-01-12T14:27:00.001-05:002016-01-12T14:27:53.973-05:00Public Domain?This point of pregnancy is one that I look forward to (well, the almost being done part) and the one that I honestly dread the most. At this point, I am so big, there is no denying that there is a "baby on board". People really seem to think at this point that you are public domain and they can say whatever comes to mind.<br />
<br />
Examples:<br />
"Are you sure its not twins?"<br />
"Wow, you just get bigger everyday."<br />
"I bet you're peeing a lot."<br />
"Three boys? So you'll try for a girl? You really want a girl, right?"<br />
"Didn't you just lose a bunch of weight?"<br />
<br />
Look everyone, you aren't original. There is nothing entertaining about this. I am not even the kind to really care when someone rubs my tummy, because really, that tummy is out there. This tummy is serious. But I don't think you're funny. And I do give sarcastic answers.<br />
<br />
Things like,<br />
"Thank you for pointing out how big I am, I needed the reminder today."<br />
"I'm hoping one of them will be gay, that's close enough to a girl."<br />
<br />
I know, I could be nicer, people are stupid and obnoxious and don't quite realize when they've said something that is probably offensive, if not insensitive. <br />
<br />
Baby continues to grow well and my insulin need continues to go up. At this point with James and Logan, I was still doing fairly well with my blood pressure, but the next few weeks will give more hints as to how quickly this pregnancy will be ending. Either way, I'll be done by March 3rd!<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />Chelseahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09127604185426482524noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7953702460432614961.post-1778839705185025692016-01-05T08:38:00.002-05:002016-01-05T08:38:29.485-05:00It's almost time"Adam.... Adam, I just realized I haven't written a single thing about being pregnant this time..."<br />
"Well, I guess you better get on that."<br />
"I took way more pictures."<br />
Close enough, right?<br />
I didn't set out to write about being pregnant for the third time. I'd say that's a good thing, because I definitely accomplished that goal. Until now. <br />
2015 came and went. James turned 5, started school, played soccer, drove his parents a little batty, but mostly was a good kid. Logan was Logan. A little loud and a little demanding. Life with Logan seems to be a stream of antibiotics and trips to the ENT. He got glasses, turned 3 and had revision tubes placed in his ears and his adenoids removed. He was also mostly a good kid.<br />
James is so ready to be a big brother again. He loves his "job" even though most of the time Logan is really running the show. Logan is so not ready to be a big brother. He tells me nearly daily now that he doesn't want a baby and that he, in fact, is the baby. Oddly enough, he loves babies, so maybe his tune will change.<br />
Being on my third high risk pregnancy is a bit stressful. Things seem more "normal" this time and I am very used to checking my blood sugar and blood pressure. But its stressful in other ways. When I told James I had a doctor's appointment this morning, he asked if I'd be gone for 5 days. I told him that its just a check up and that the doctor would just measure my belly and listen to the baby's heartbeat. In the back of my mind, I was thinking "I hope..." I promised to try to give him as much notice as I possible could before I had to be in the hospital. He was unhappy when mom was in the hospital with Logan, this time I know it will be worse.<br />
Preparing for a third baby is pretty hilarious, I'm almost 31 weeks and we finally broke down and bought some baby things. We still have no baby clothes, as we're waiting for a hand-me-down delivery. We still don't have a solid feeding plan, we're playing it by ear to see if the little guy wants to nurse. I have no meals prepped (okay, I never prepped meals before the other two either...) and no real plans for who is watching the kids while I'm in the hospital. We'll figure it out eventually, there's probably only 6 more weeks of this madness.<br />
Good things about pregnancy this time around:<br />
1. Adam and I understand that I'm crazy, hungry, hormonal and angry. Not sure who I'm angry at, but most of the time, someone.<br />
2. I know that the time period of being exhausted is quite short. Caring for an infant is actually super easy when compared to parenting a child, even if they scream a lot and you don't sleep for a year.<br />
3. Its almost over. That's the best part. I fooled myself into thinking doing this again would be easy. Its not. I will not have these foolish notions again. I will tie my tubes and never again think of having babies. Because four? Well that is just nuts, right? Right.Chelseahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09127604185426482524noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7953702460432614961.post-8714390542748480792015-09-20T08:20:00.001-04:002016-01-05T09:10:16.341-05:00Night time cuddlesLogan is at a turning point in his young life, he's not quite a baby and not quite a big kid yet. The toddler years are fun for lots of reasons, the new words and blossoming personality make everyday interesting. And challenging. With Logan, more challenging than interesting it seems. But lately his communication has been amazing and it's easy to see how he's been less and less frustrated. Not that he doesn't still have tantrums, but much less hitting and biting.<br />
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And in many ways, he's still my baby. Last week, Logan woke up in the middle of the night. When I entered his room, I didn't close the door, just got to him and picked him up from his crib. He stood and reached for me. When I patted his bottom, I realized he was very soggy and needed a fresh diaper. So I told him he needed a change and he laid down quietly as soon as I set him on the floor (he outgrew the changing table ages ago). Then I changed him and before I could pick him back up, he'd stood up and was hugging me. I was just about to stand up so we could sit in his chair and cuddle some when he realized something was wrong. He ran over, closed his room door and then came back, now ready for his cuddle. I only held him for a few minutes then he went back to sleep and I slowly slipped back to my own bed. </div>
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As I tried to fall back to sleep, I laughed to myself. He's old enough to know he wants his door closed, but young enough to still need a cuddle to fall back to sleep. </div>
Chelseahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09127604185426482524noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7953702460432614961.post-51603480845416340762015-09-03T18:30:00.001-04:002015-09-03T18:30:25.672-04:00The first weekThe first few full days of school have come and gone and James has been adjusting pretty well. He did have an accident on the way to school on his first day, but other than that, things have been relatively uneventful. He loves his teacher and has been enjoying playing new games and meeting new people.<div>We had Back to School night on Tuesday, where we learned more about the curriculum for the year and on Wednesday we learned first hand about the behavioral chart. </div><div>The behavioral chart is a tool for discipline where the kids each have a clothes pin clipped to the chart. If you're good, you stay on blue. You can go down to green or yellow (yellow usually results in a consequence) or you can be super exceptional and move up to orange which results in a sticker and small prize. The colors make no sense to me, because they aren't in rainbow ROY G BIV order, but I'm going to get over it. Adam asked James how he did on the chart on Wednesday, who told us he was on yellow. He was warned twice for not calming down after recess. This makes total sense to me, since calming down has never been James' strong suit. We didn't get too upset with James, mainly tried to listen as he explained himself. I suppose the funniest part of all of this was that James made sure he told us that the other kid "taught him how to be bad". I'm pretty sure he needed no help, but we talked about our expectation for his behavior and today he had no problems. </div><div>We are slowly getting into the routine, James gets lunch and a snack, which eases a lot of my worry about him being hungry. Our daycare provider's <span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;">daughter has been walking him across the street to the bus on days when the older kids aren't there in the morning. Logan seems to be thoroughly enjoying being a "big kid" at daycare without his brother, but they have been much more affectionate with each other when they are together. </span></div><div><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;">Overall, it's been exhausting, especially with soccer practice mixed in, but this is an exciting time for all of us. Even if I still can't believe I have a 5 year old!</span></div><div><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-ySj0lfa2z8M/VejKAFeyRVI/AAAAAAAAKbk/s23w2w8E44k/s640/blogger-image--414199010.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-ySj0lfa2z8M/VejKAFeyRVI/AAAAAAAAKbk/s23w2w8E44k/s640/blogger-image--414199010.jpg"></a></div><br></div><br></span></div>Chelseahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09127604185426482524noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7953702460432614961.post-63252038812344580432015-08-30T08:38:00.001-04:002015-08-30T08:38:28.378-04:00First Day JittersTomorrow is the big day: James' first full day of kindergarten! His first day on the bus and the first day of the next 13 years. We went for a few hours on Friday and the parents heard from the guidance counselor and administration. James was with his class and I think he's fallen hard for his teacher. She a little and perky, but firm from what we saw and I know that my little people pleaser will do well. <div>Before we left in Friday, his teacher read a cute story, <i>First Day Jitters</i> about being nervous for school. The funny part is that the teacher is the one with the jitters! The kids had a good laugh and then received a Baggie full of "jitter glitter".</div><div>Overall, James seemed excited and not at all nervous. He's loved preschool time with Rhonda and I think he's well prepared. As parents, we're working through all kinds of things. Some of them are pretty easy, just the logistics of it all. We need to pack lunch and a snack. Sneakers on Tuesday and library books in Friday. I've been working through the idea that more and more we are giving up control of our child. This is the way of life, we know that eventually we are raising our children to be independent and strong, but I think my growing pains have been worse then theirs! Again, it's a bittersweet feeling and I'm sure I will be crying after I put my big boy on the bus!</div><div>There is a poem in with James' bag of jitter glitter, you're supposed to sprinkle it under your pillow the night before school. Maybe I need to borrow some!</div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-y0pkzf8Cs-Q/VeL5QqQnLUI/AAAAAAAAKbI/yZIMOTw5HJ0/s640/blogger-image--258941474.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-y0pkzf8Cs-Q/VeL5QqQnLUI/AAAAAAAAKbI/yZIMOTw5HJ0/s640/blogger-image--258941474.jpg"></a></div><br></div><br></div>Chelseahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09127604185426482524noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7953702460432614961.post-71167057413943254452015-08-24T12:49:00.000-04:002015-08-24T12:49:30.864-04:00Remember when?Remember when it was easy to find time to write this blog?<br />
<br />
I'm not actually sure that I do remember such a thing. It seems I'm having trouble remembering so many things lately.<br />
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For instance, James starts kindergarten next week and I can hardly remember what it was like for him to be a baby. He seems so big and independent these days and now he's leaving daycare and going to a new school for long school days where I will have even less control than I do now... Is that a run on sentence? I see his baby pictures and I can remember for a minute snuggling his little tiny self, but now I give a hug to a big, heavy boy. A big boy to tells me his thoughts and about his dreams (always about purple monsters...) A big boy who plays games with other big boys and leaves his mother totally confused about what is happening. A big boy who loves his brother and wants nothing more than Logan to follow his beck and call. Logan, on the other hand, has no time for brother's instructions.<br />
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Remember when I thought we'd have two kids and I'd get this feeling of being "done" and then we'd be done? Ha! That thought was fleeting and I never had a feeling of done. So here I am, almost 12 weeks pregnant with number 3. Even more hilarious, remember when I thought I'd never even have kids? Time has made me a liar.Chelseahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09127604185426482524noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7953702460432614961.post-51708767237582395482015-05-06T06:47:00.001-04:002015-05-06T06:47:42.781-04:00Kindergarten Registration<div><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;">Yesterday, we took James to his new school to get registered for kindergarten. We took his list of needed items (birth certificate, deed, shot record) and were in and out in less than 15 minutes. </span></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-U4SGrZs_XT0/VUnxRhSyDVI/AAAAAAAAKSw/Fh_iwhkEFuA/s640/blogger-image-404148639.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-U4SGrZs_XT0/VUnxRhSyDVI/AAAAAAAAKSw/Fh_iwhkEFuA/s640/blogger-image-404148639.jpg"></a></div><br></div><br><div>James' main concern was wanting to go play with other kids at school. When he found out that we were confined to the front lobby of the school, he was upset. But after we got some celebratory ice cream, he felt much better. </div></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-jh8syC8TtcU/VUnxTSG5qsI/AAAAAAAAKTA/kiYYNQ-4Pzs/s640/blogger-image--968104615.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-jh8syC8TtcU/VUnxTSG5qsI/AAAAAAAAKTA/kiYYNQ-4Pzs/s640/blogger-image--968104615.jpg"></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">At James' request, we went back to daycare and picked his baby brother up early. Then we came home and had a Cinco de Mayo pool party. Overall, a sucessful day. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-f5zqRTx2mxs/VUnxSXbu7aI/AAAAAAAAKS4/ADKfZ3bnZ-4/s640/blogger-image--1809821718.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-f5zqRTx2mxs/VUnxSXbu7aI/AAAAAAAAKS4/ADKfZ3bnZ-4/s640/blogger-image--1809821718.jpg"></a></div><br></div><br></div>Chelseahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09127604185426482524noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7953702460432614961.post-41818397418355213292015-05-06T06:38:00.001-04:002015-05-06T06:38:02.537-04:00On natural childbirthHaving had two c-sections with my boys and never having even approached going into labor, I was unsure what to expect when a good friend of mine opted for a 100% unmedicated birth. During the months leading up to her having the baby, we talked a lot about whether she would actually be able to not take anything. After lots of waiting and a baby that arrived almost a week late, I got the phone call. She was in labor and going to the hospital. Well, going to the hospital after going home for a few hours and a snack. Food is always a priority for pregnant women, right?<div>By the time I got to the hospital, labor was in full swing. There was bouncing on a yoga ball, a birthing tub and lots of painful moaning. </div><div>For lack of a better way to put it, that shit was crazy. </div><div>I had no idea someone could make the noises that I was hearing. Once, while my friend's husband was getting something out of the car, I got to be her fill in hand holder. She wanted a specific grip and she squeezed like hell. I happily handed her back over to her husband. </div><div>A few hours later, there were cries and screams. She was screaming for drugs and over and over again we'd remind her that she could do it. Breath through the pain and you'll be fine, we'd say. She would talk herself through the pain and occasionally curse us. At one such moment I asked her "So I shouldn't take a mid-labor selfie with you?" She flipped me the bird. </div><div>But we knew she didn't really want the meds. At one point my self appointed job was to put my hand over the toilet fixtures. Yep, you haven't lived until you've helped your friend labor on a hospital toilet. She kept flinging her head back and I figured the last thing she really needed was a concussion, so I guarded the pipes for almost an hour. </div><div>After 8 hours in the hospital, I made my way home. I had to stay home with Logan that morning and while I was upset at missing the baby's birth, I also wanted to let my friend and her husband have their moment alone. Especially since she stuck to her guns and took no medication. Baby arrived after 24 hours in labor and for every one of them I was thankful for c-sections.</div><div>Now, on the back end of things, I see the benefits of her unmedicated birth. After two days in the hospital, mom and baby were on their way home. Since I had other complications, I spent 8 days and 5 days in the hospital for James and Logan. </div><div>On another note, the boys get to meet the new baby today. James is now convinced that Logan is also a big brother. He's so excited to see the baby and so am I!</div>Chelseahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09127604185426482524noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7953702460432614961.post-69146945338390157382015-04-13T09:49:00.003-04:002015-04-13T09:50:02.057-04:00Sunscreen FailureYesterday, the weather was beautiful. We were outside as a family in the morning and afternoon and it was wonderful all around. At naptime, I got in a 4 mile run and was proud of myself for getting back into some exercise. But let's think about that, I went for a run. At noon. In the full sun. With no sunscreen.<br />
So that was a bit of a failure on my part, one that I didn't even think about until we were brushing the boys teeth before bed. Adam noticed that I was quite red on my shoulders and back and James heard him telling me how sunburned I was.<br />
After brushing his teeth, I helped James into his night clothes and as he did this, James asked, "Mom, does it hurt?"<br />
I said, "Does what hurt?"<br />
"Your sunburn."<br />
"No, it isn't too bad, I forgot to wear sunscreen."<br />
"We always wear sunscreen at the beach!"<br />
"Well yes, James, momma doesn't ever forget to put it on you guys."<br />
"Oh."<br />
I showered and Adam put some aloe on for me. The burn isn't too bad this morning, but I do have a perfect outline of a racer back tank top.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-JIUHCgCGyMc/VSvJXkt9vSI/AAAAAAAAKL0/SH01OG3XBAM/s1600/Spring%2B011.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-JIUHCgCGyMc/VSvJXkt9vSI/AAAAAAAAKL0/SH01OG3XBAM/s1600/Spring%2B011.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>The boys enjoying the sun</i></td></tr>
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<br />Chelseahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09127604185426482524noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7953702460432614961.post-64355465048830894022015-03-24T05:54:00.001-04:002015-03-24T05:54:37.091-04:00All the BearsMy Grandma Smith had a huge teddy bear collection. One thing I remember from growing up was picking a different bear to sleep with every time we stayed with her. They all had elaborate names and back stories of where she had gotten them. They littered her couch and living room. There were old bears, like the original Smokey the Bear (always a favorite in the very fire prone Northern California) and there new new bears with tutus or cowboy hats. The fact that my dad's nickname is Bear wasn't something I thought of as a kid, but now the boys call him Grandbear and its so very fitting. <div>When I was around 16, after her husband passed away, she made an effort to move the bears to one of the back bedrooms, but there were still a few favorites on the couch. </div><div>After Grandma died and items were given out to my cousins, aunt and mom, I ended up with three of the newer bears, a momma and two cubs. Being pregnant with my second son, my mom thought I would enjoy the three bears. </div><div>They have been well loved since they came to Maryland. The momma bear is now a daddy bear (don't worry, there's a smaller momma bear somewhere, I haven't been totally forgotten.)</div><div>James calls him Big Bear and he's been hanging out in our living room this week. My boys never met their Great Grandma, but I'm glad they have one last gift from her. </div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-sxfcUTKz-bI/VRE0W3K8DGI/AAAAAAAAKLc/0HDJzZUaXLI/s640/blogger-image--588737211.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-sxfcUTKz-bI/VRE0W3K8DGI/AAAAAAAAKLc/0HDJzZUaXLI/s640/blogger-image--588737211.jpg"></a></div><br></div>Chelseahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09127604185426482524noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7953702460432614961.post-22036602736861814802015-03-21T07:40:00.001-04:002015-03-21T07:40:03.095-04:00He's a pukerLogan is a puker. Since the day (almost) he was born, Logan has vomited. A lot. When he was a baby, he ate a lot, and if he didn't stop to burp often, he would puke. Sometimes an entire feeding. Looking back, he could have used some reflux medication, but hindsight is 20/20.<div>He pukes when food texture isn't what he anticipated. He pukes when he's extra snotty, and he usually is or has been due to his ear issues. Even with the tubes in his ears, he still has a strong gag reflex. Sometimes when he's crying or tantrumming puke is the result of his dramatics. This week he managed to puke on himself and Rhonda at daycare. (I have mentioned that she's a saint before, right?) </div><div>And my real favorite - Logan often forgets to chew his food, a skill you can't quite teach. And the result?<div>You guessed it. More puke. </div><div>Just this morning, we woke up to find a bed that had been puked in and then slept in. I'm not sure how he managed to sleep like that, but he was out for 12 hours. Adam striped the bed and cleaned the wall while I bathed a very stinky toddler. Divide and conquer!</div><div>As time goes on, we've gotten used to the vomit and Logan gets sick less often. </div><div>We joke that it's a good thing he's a second child, because if your first kid was a puker, you might not have a second. </div></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/-fBZjxTgtZtE/VQ1YkdUV9hI/AAAAAAAAKLM/N6iWMVDpuaY/s640/blogger-image-533713356.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/-fBZjxTgtZtE/VQ1YkdUV9hI/AAAAAAAAKLM/N6iWMVDpuaY/s640/blogger-image-533713356.jpg"></a></div>Two months old, original photo caption: I'm a puker</div>Chelseahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09127604185426482524noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7953702460432614961.post-83225361061196943132015-03-07T16:52:00.001-05:002015-03-07T16:52:29.695-05:00Choosing words carefullyToday James grabbed a toy snake and as he held it to the back of his head he asked me, "Mom, do I look like a girl?"<div>I told him that he looked like someone with long hair.</div><div>He pushed further, "But do I look more like a girl."</div><div>I said yes, if the girl has long hair. </div><div>He gave up on the conversation and ran off, not giving it a second thought. </div><div>We frequently have a similar conversation about "girl toys" and "boy toys". And we are quick to reinforce that anyone can play with any toy. </div><div>All of these questions from James lead me to wonder about many things, but mainly they remind me that it's important to choose my words well. I want to teach him tolerance and equality and love, but sometimes my admittedly more "liberal" thoughts aren't shared by everyone. This is one of the things that scares me the most about raising my boys. It especially scares me when I think about James staring school in the fall. </div><div>I once had a coworker ask me what I thought of gay marriage and what I would think if James brought home a boyfriend. When I told her I would be happy that he'd found someone to love, she seemed shocked. That was one conversation that ended quickly! </div><div>I know as the boys get older, we will have more conversations and lessons to be taught (and even more for us to learn as parents.) For now we will keep our message simple and accepting. </div>Chelseahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09127604185426482524noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7953702460432614961.post-75640813217894066382015-02-23T05:46:00.001-05:002015-02-23T13:23:37.553-05:00Logan and the moviesYesterday, I started to put a movie on for the boys and noticed that Disney's Bears was on cable. I put it on, much to James' disdain. He wanted to watch The Lego Movie for the third time this weekend and quickly went upstairs to entertain himself.<br />
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When the movie started, I realized that the narrator was a familiar voice, John C. Reilly aka Wreck-It Ralph. Apparently, Logan realized it too, because he ran to the DVD cabinet and came back holding our copy of Wreck-It Ralph. </div>
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He wouldn't leave me alone until I switched off Bears and put Ralph on. Then he happily watched the movie, dancing and cheering along. So much for watching a nice nature film. </div>
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I will be very happy when winter is over and we can play outside rather than watching so much television!</div>
Chelseahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09127604185426482524noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7953702460432614961.post-40607452566266348352015-02-22T07:37:00.001-05:002015-02-22T07:37:29.231-05:00The four year old vocabularyJames has always been a talker. He spoke early and often and that trend continues today. <div>Once he figures out a new word, he runs with it. </div><div>Last night he mentioned that he thought Penny was looking luscious. </div><div>Then this morning he grabbed his little brother for a hug and said, "Look at this luscious baby!"</div><div>I'm not sure exactly what he thinks luscious means, but apparently it's a good thing. </div>Chelseahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09127604185426482524noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7953702460432614961.post-45989332541772881122015-02-04T06:42:00.001-05:002015-02-04T06:42:24.834-05:00James and PennyJames loves his new puppy. He tells us daily. <div>This morning he walked up the penny, who was lying on the couch. He picked up her paw for a high five. He looked at me and says, "Look! She high fives me!" Then he turned to Penny and said, "Good girl Penny, you deserve a hug." </div><div>Kids and dogs, too cute. </div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-BHYfVXsfNK8/VNIFnpv-MsI/AAAAAAAAFw8/IqU1TEWZid8/s640/blogger-image-1802626000.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-BHYfVXsfNK8/VNIFnpv-MsI/AAAAAAAAFw8/IqU1TEWZid8/s640/blogger-image-1802626000.jpg"></a></div><br></div><div><br></div>Chelseahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09127604185426482524noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7953702460432614961.post-14322765669602311882015-01-13T08:01:00.001-05:002015-01-13T08:01:45.194-05:00The Makeup ArtistIn the mornings when I get ready for work, James likes to be my "helper." Usually this means holding my blush brush while I put on my other (minimal) makeup. I have a 5 minute routine, foundation, eye liner, mascara, and blush. This morning James was very keen on being my "very good little helper" because he had several time outs yesterday and he was looking to atone. He's very funny about being super helpful after he's had a bad day, so the good news is that I'm not raising a total sociopath.<br />
Anyway, this morning he was holding my blush, the brush, a mirror and a tube of mascara, demonstrating that he was so helpful that he could hold 4 items at once. I was putting on foundation with a makeup sponge when he asked what I was holding. I told him a makeup sponge. Then he asked, "Does that put black stuff on your face?"<br />
I said, "No James, nothing on my face is black." I'm pretty pale, so I always use a shade of foundation called Ivory. Or Light Ivory, depending on the brand.<br />
James quickly pointed to my large, under eye circles and said, "There momma, its black under there."<br />
I quickly said, "No James, momma is just very tired, but thanks for noticing."<br />
He laughed and laughed. At least I'm still funny, even if I'm tired.<br />
<br />Chelseahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09127604185426482524noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7953702460432614961.post-2555904354504637942015-01-11T08:41:00.001-05:002015-01-13T08:06:39.874-05:00Swim LessonsLast summer, James took his first swim lessons at our local YMCA and he loved them. He learned some basics, but his instructor, the beloved Billy, recommended that he redo the same level class the next time we signed up.<br />
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Over the fall, James played soccer and had fun doing that as well. We are making an effort to get him out and meeting new kids before kindergarten starts. We also want him to be <span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;">active, to burn off some of his never ending energy. </span></div>
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While James was in his swim lessons, it was all we could do to keep Logan out of the water, so starting next week, both boys are signed up for swimming! James is redoing his class hoping to get his legs behind him and kicking more. Logan will be doing a parent-child class to get used to the pool. After our time after beach, I know Logan will love being in the water. </div>
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Unfortunately, our first class was cancelled this morning due to an emergency with the pool. James was pretty disappointed and we had to explain that we don't always get what we want and have to be flexible. The same conversation was had when a soccer game was rained out in October. But such is life, a hard lesson for most people to learn, especially when you're four.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/-KxxR3rKsPEU/VLJ9epxHaiI/AAAAAAAAFwg/9yeJ6IIW5Xg/s640/blogger-image-1702127420.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/-KxxR3rKsPEU/VLJ9epxHaiI/AAAAAAAAFwg/9yeJ6IIW5Xg/s640/blogger-image-1702127420.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>James, at the pool over the summer</i></td></tr>
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Chelseahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09127604185426482524noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7953702460432614961.post-23033713294421354762014-12-31T10:15:00.001-05:002014-12-31T10:15:51.552-05:00Logan's wordsI'm starting a list of Logan's words so far, just to help keep track as he continues to progress with his receptive and expressive language skills. <div><br></div><div>Shoes</div><div>Socks</div><div>Kitty</div><div>Callie</div><div>Doggy</div><div>Penny</div><div>Mac/Macky</div><div>Mommy (only in the last week)</div><div>Daddy</div><div>Cheese</div><div>Cracker</div><div>Where are you</div><div>Hi</div><div>Hello</div><div>Bye</div><div>Elmo</div><div>Yes (still sounds more like Wes)</div><div>No</div><div>Thank you</div><div>Bless you</div><div>Nose</div><div>Yay</div>Chelseahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09127604185426482524noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7953702460432614961.post-3971020078811024982014-12-16T14:58:00.000-05:002014-12-16T14:59:46.471-05:00The Meatloaf DebacleAll my life, I've been known as a picky eater. I don't like tomatoes, broccoli... okay, most vegetables... or fish. I'm not into sushi, french onion soup or other "fancy" foods. Peanut butter and jelly is still a go-to meal at 31 years old. I keep it pretty basic. When I married a picky eater, I wondered what our children would possibly eat.<br />
Luckily, they both are really good eaters. They love green beans and peas and all kinds of foods that I would never touch. Usually, they both cannot eat enough. They are growing boys, after all.<br />
Last night, Adam whipped up a meatloaf. He makes wonderful meatballs and spaghetti almost every Monday, his telework day, but wanted to change things up a little bit. A very little bit, he uses the same recipe for both meals, its just a matter of a loaf or ball presentation.<br />
So we baked the meatloaf, pulled it out of the oven, and I sliced up pieces for the boys to eat. The plates went in front of the boys and the direct opposite of what I thought would happen, happened.<br />
They revolted! Logan took a bite, then immediately spat it out. He then used his fingers to get any remaining meat out of his mouth and back onto his plate. James had a similar reaction. I bit into my meatloaf and thought it tasted great, but the boys weren't having it. James was finally persuaded to eat, even though it was "terrible" but Logan flatly refused. Now, if you put a meatball in front of either of them, its instantly inhaled. We tried several times to get Logan to eat, but he wouldn't. Finally, we gave him a string cheese and called it dinner.<br />
Kids are funny creatures.Chelseahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09127604185426482524noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7953702460432614961.post-42238023254841711062014-12-08T07:47:00.000-05:002014-12-08T07:47:00.325-05:00Penny the puppyJust one day after the 6 year anniversary of bringing home our beloved Shetland Sheepdog, Adam brought home a new family member, Penny the Golden Retriever. The decision to get a puppy was one we made with relatively little fanfare. Adam wanted to get a cat, I said I'd rather have a dog and one day later Penny came home.<br />
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Adam grew up with a Golden and I know she is the dog of his dreams. They've already bonded and I can see how in love they both are. The boys have been very happy with Penny as well, she really is a sweet and lovable pup. </div>
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Mac and Sassy are adjusting, but are still a bit perturbed by their new baby sister. In time, they will adjust. For now, we are working on training and enjoying all of Penny's puppihood. </div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-b_Hp5X3jBAA/VIRMZgRk3nI/AAAAAAAAFvk/Vd5qoIGkyts/s640/blogger-image-647026112.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-b_Hp5X3jBAA/VIRMZgRk3nI/AAAAAAAAFvk/Vd5qoIGkyts/s640/blogger-image-647026112.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Penny's first night home</i></td></tr>
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Chelseahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09127604185426482524noreply@blogger.com1