Dear Little Baby Jeffery

Hello my darling child!  I have lots of exciting things to tell you…but I’ll start off with how freaking cute you are!  We had our first appointment last week, and got to see you for the first time!  This is what you look like: 

 

Look how cute you are!  Your big ol’ head with your tiny nose and mouth and eyes and your little arms and legs…I cannot wait to squeeze and cuddle the crap out of you. 

More good news:  You are now 12 weeks old, which not only means the risk of us losing you has dropped considerably, but Mommy is entering the glorious 2nd trimester, during which there is no nausea, enough energy to make it through a busy day, and the return of the desire for things that happen in the bedroom that I will tell you about when you are older.  Yay 2nd Trimester! 

We’ve also decided that the entire family will be going home this summer.  Fair warning, expect a lot of strange hands to be rubbing Mommy’s tummy…Daddy has a BIG family and we will be visiting all of them.  They’re all nice, I promise. 

And now, I have a favor to ask you.  Little Baby Jeffery, your Daddy really wants a son, and I don’t know if he’s going to want to have another kid after this.  Most of that is my fault; your Mommy has become a huge bitch this pregnancy, and considering I spent Piper’s pregnancy crying over every little thing, I’m not sure which is worse…and I’m sure Daddy doesn’t want to go through either again. It’s not fun. 

I know it’s already been decided and it’s completely Daddy’s fault if you are a little girl, but if you have any say-so whatsoever, could you please be a little boy?  For Daddy?  Of course we will love you either way, and I personally will be thrilled to have another manicure partner, but Daddy really needs someone to do yucky boy things like paintballing and fishing and playing bloody video games with. 

So anyway, I asked, and this way Daddy can’t be mad if you aren’t a boy.  Not that he’ll be mad if you’re a girl, but you know what I mean. 

I love you, Little Baby Jeffery, and am counting down the months until I get to hold you.

A list of things that have always annoyed me, but doubly so now that I’m growing a baby.

1.  The fact that my basement is a freezer, the main floor is perfect, and the top floor is a sauna…and I can’t do a damn thing to change it. 

2.  The dog owners down the street who think it’s okay to let their HUGE dog (who, by the way, makes a habit of jumping over the fence and roaming the neighborhood until they decide to round him up again) BARK and BARK and BARK for hours on end every morning, noon, and dinnertime. 

3.  On the subject of animals, my cat’s incessant meowing as she tries to trip me down the stairs every.single.morning.  Look, Phoebe, I know you’re hungry.  I know your food bowl is empty.  I also know that you know that the first thing I do every.single.morning is fill your bowl with food.  Calm.the.fuck.down. 

4.  The fact that Piper STILL isn’t potty trained, and has, for some reason, completely undone any progress we had made over these past six months. 

5.  Never-ending chores like dishes and laundry. 

6.  Cooking what I think is a great dinner, only to have my daughter and husband-who-is-pickier-than-Piper only eat the starch. 

7.  My mom sends my daughter a package that’s either filled with crap from the dollar store or things that I should buy her as her mother (the latter occurs mostly around holidays, and some examples include pajamas for Christmas Eve, and, more recently, a chocolate easter bunny which just so happens to be the exact bunny The Easter Bunny is bringing Piper on Sunday.)  I know she means well, but if she’d open a savings account for Piper and dump all the money she spends on things that end up in the garbage within a couple weeks, she could buy Piper’s first car. 

8.  Parents who don’t discipline their children. 

9.  Parents who don’t watch their children when at a birthday party and leave the three seperate chewed up carrots he has spit onto my living room, kitchen, and dining room floor for me to clean up. 

10.  The fact that by the time my husband gets home from work I’m so tired and stressed from dealing with the devil-toddler that has replaced my daughter that the last thing I want to think about is fooling around.  I miss fooling around so regularly it was all I could think about the second I saw him. 

11.  Previously mentioned devil-toddler that expects me to call her Piper.  Where did my child go?? 

12.  Max and Ruby, and the fact that they don’t have parents but do have a Grandma who lives far away.  It’s just…weird.

13.  That no matter how many times I vacuum and/or pick up Piper’s toys in the living room, the house is still a mess by the time Brandon gets home.

14.  I can’t stay out all day anymore.  I was EXHAUSTED yesterday after a trip to Michaels, lunch at Red Robin, and an hour at the mall.  Ridiculous. 

15.  My sister still doesn’t have a job, and doesn’t understand why this is a big deal for more people than just her. 

16.  My mom and I have all but switched roles. 

17.  The sheer lack of courteous drivers in Anchorage.

18.  The sheer lack of customer service in Alaska.  Example:  Last night, after waiting 45 minutes for Brandon to be done with work, Piper was crying about being hungry (it was 6:45, and we were stuck in a car.  Couldn’t blame her.) I pulled into Burger King across the street and ordered Brandon and Piper dinner…it was 99 cent kids meals when you buy a value meal and I wasn’t hungry for fast food.  The chick said my total was $8.48, which is wrong.  When I got to the window, again, she said, “$8.48″, so I said, “Isn’t the kids meal 99 cents?”  She said, “Yeah.”  Long pause, during which she’s still holding out her hand for my debit card.  I said, “Then it’s not $8.48.”  She ROLLED HER EYES and said, “I haven’t changed it yet.”   Like it’s my fault there are five signs that say, “99 cent Kid’s Meals!” between the entrance of the drive-thru and her window.  So I handed her my card and said, “You don’t have to be a bitch about it.”  Needless to say, she did NOT say, “Have a good night” as I pulled away. 

 

Okay I’m done.  Maybe tomorrow I’ll make a list of things that make me smile. 

Hello little grape-sized baby…

You are 9 weeks old now…in the womb, at least.  Why don’t we count our age from the moment of conception?  You are alive…and honestly it felt weird to tell people your sister was only a few days old when in fact I had known her for 37 weeks.  Anyway……….I’m rambling.

You are about one inch tall right now.  You have arms and legs, and a rather large head.  Your heart is working, your little boy/girl parts are forming…you even have nipples!  You should start moving soon, but I can’t feel it yet.  Should be soon though…I felt Piper moving around 15 weeks and I’m told I’ll feel you even sooner than that. 

I definately look pregnant, and can’t button my jeans anymore.  Most of that is because I’m starting this pregnancy heavier than I should be, but honestly it’s like my uterus said, “HEY!  I remember being pregnant!” and promptly started growing and stretching to accomodate a 4 month old fetus.  I’m excited though; waiting to show with Piper was frustrating, and I feel like I look pregnant rather than just fat.

Wanna know just how crazy your momma is?  I ate half a bagel with cream cheese, two small pickles, and a brown sugar cinnamon pop tart for dinner last night.  Oh and a glass of chocolate milk.  You defintately have me eating some crazy things…I NEVER eat pickles, but haven’t been able to get enough these past couple days.  I’ve also been dying to get my hands on a Royal burger from Red Robin…so much so that Piper and I are probably going tomorrow for lunch. 

We get to see you for the first time in a couple weeks; our first appt is April 15th.  It seems so far away still…we were supposed to be seen next week but daddy has an exercise so we rescheduled. 

Daddy’s doing very well, by the way.  He was chosen as Airman of the Quarter for his squadron, and was moved to the Readiness warehouse…which he is very excited about.  He’ll be there until July, then he hopes to move to the dining facility as their Storeroom Supervisor.  It should work out; everyone wants him to work for them.   Your daddy is so awesome…I’m so proud of him and cannot wait for you to meet him.  I hope you are a boy, for him.  He needs someone to rough house with. 

I love you, Little Bean, and hope you are happy and healthy bouncing around in my uterus. 

Let me know when you want more pickles.

Traded a dog for three fish

We found a new home for our black lab, Buddy, this weekend….and I couldn’t be happier.  Is that horrible?  I miss the guy…but GOD it is so nice to have a carpet that still looks vacuumed two days later and to not have to guard my daughter’s lunch while she goes potty and to not have to wrestle with him everytime someone comes to the door. 

I put an ad up on craig’s list and a super nice family responded; they live in Eagle River and have about an acre of land AND another dog for him to play with; it’s really better off for Buddy. 

Piper misses him.  She was really sad when they left with him…so I totally took her to the store and got her some goldfish. 

I heart goldfish. 

They’re fun to watch, and most importantly, their mess is contained. 

I think we may have too small of an aquarium though…cause GOD are they messy.  I might be purchasing a 10 gallon tank tomorrow…5 gallons just doesn’t seem to be cutting it.

I’m back

So much for M-F updates, huh? 

Sorry about the absence….I promise I have had every intention of sitting down and writing a new post, but I tend to get distracted easily.  The biggest distraction lately is the couch; I’m not ashamed to admit I’ve taken a nap almost every day for the past two weeks.  And I fully intend to continue this habit as long as I can use the “I’m pregnant” excuse. 

I just looked out the window; it’s snowing.  Again. 

I’ve been complaining about the fact that my world is covered in white at least once a day for the past MONTH…and still, the first thing out of my mouth was, “Piper!!  It’s snowing!!!”  Not even in a sarcastic, annoyed, or pissed off tone.  I was genuinely excited for about three seconds.  For about three seconds, I was a toddler again…thrilled at the sight of snow falling from the sky. 

When did I get to the point where I could only handle three seconds of snow-fall excitement?  When did snow become something to be loathed…something to take the blame for my freezing hands or my slippery walks through parking lots?  When did it no longer mean sledding and snowmen and snowangels and forts and snowball fights?   Probably when I  moved to Alaska, where there is snow on the ground six-eight months out of the year.  I’ll bet you anything I can manage to slip and fall in the parking lot more times than I can manage to go sledding or build a snowman. 

I took Piper for a walk the other day.  We were bored, the sun was out, and it had gotten up to about 20 degrees that day.  We bundled up and still had bright red noses and cheeks when we got to the Shoppette.  After we grabbed a few snacks, we headed home…and Piper walked through the snow the whole time.  You’d think she’d just met Dora the Explorer for real, she was so thrilled.  She sunk in past her knees a couple times, she fell flat on her face more than a few times, she tried (unsucessfully) to make snowballs and throw them at me…and by the time I got her home and stripped out of her wet clothes, her little legs were bright red and freezing and I had to wrap her up like a little toddler burrito with three blankets to get her warm again….but she was still absolutely thrilled. 

Yesterday in the car, she said, “Mommy, remember when we went for a walk? And I played in the snow?”  And I said, “Yes, I remember that!  It was cold, huh?”  She said, “Yeah, it was so funny!” 

Oh to be a kid again.

Dear Little Bean~

We’ve waited so long for you, Little Bean, and I absolutely cannot wait to hold you in my arms.  Fingers crossed these next eight months just fly by, because I have already waited 15 months for you. 

You’ve been growing for five weeks now, and are about the size of a sesame seed.  I’m definately feeling pregnant…I actually just woke up from a 2.5 hour nap, during which I didn’t even hear the phone ring.  Luckily your sister, Piper, is such a good kid; she played with her puzzles and toys and watched cartoons while I slept. 

You’re going to love Piper.  She’s a sweetheart, and she’ll teach you everything you ever wanted to know, and probably the things you didn’t want to know either.  I can already imagine the two of you running and hiding together when Daddy gets home from work…I can hear the giggles in the bathtub…even the arguments in your bedroom. 

We’re so ready for you to join our family, Little Bean.  I don’t even care if you are a boy or a girl…just come home to us healthy, happy, and ready to be loved like crazy. 

Because I already love every little, tiny bit of your sesame-seed-sized self.

BFP!!!

YAY!!!

ohmygodi’msoexcitedicanhardlystanditohmygodohmygodohmygodi’mgonnahaveanotherbaby!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I changed my mind about ClearBlue Digital pregnancy tests, by the way. 

Seeing “Pregnant” is much more rewarding than seeing two lines.

NotPregnant

My husband and I have been trying to get pregnant again for 15 months exactly tomorrow.  15 months.  Granted, we haven’t gone as far as taking a BBT daily, and I have had a significantly difficult time having regular periods, let alone ovulating (still trying to figure that one out)…but it hurts.

Especially on afternoons like today…when a seemingly innocent trip to the library turns into me staring longingly at the miracle of life displayed all around me in all stages. 

I’m not exaggerating in the least:  First, a woman about 5-6 months along sat next to us with her son and did a couple puzzles with Piper.  Then, a woman who looked ready to BURST walked by us…and the first mother and I shared sympathetic looks.  After the first mother left, (Piper really likes to do puzzles..we were there for a while) a woman, carting four small children, mind you, looked to be in the beginning stages of yet another baby. Although, to be honest, that might just be what one’s tummy looks like after popping out four small children so close together.

Then, just when I thought I was surrounded by enough reminders of my empty womb, yet another woman was getting cozy with her brand-new-adorable-bundle-of-love on one of the reclining chairs meant for reading, not showing off tiny little newborns. 

I want another baby…more now that it’s taken so long for us to get pregnant already.  We got preggers with Piper so quickly, I just assumed it would work the same way with baby #2.  And now that it hasn’t…I feel like I’m in a fight to the death against my uterus. 

On a lighter side, (somewhat) I did have a regular, non-drug-induced period in January, take a total of 500 mg of Clomid (per my doc, of course), and perfectly timed intercourse with hubby…and still no period.  If I were to have another regular period, it would come any day now. 

Piper and I stopped at Walmart on the way home to purchase a box of pregnancy tests.  I opted for the ClearBlue Digital…since a pack of FIVE was only $20.  5 tests!  Yay!  I took one when we got home; maybe it was all the pregnancy hormones I absorbed for two hours, but I was feeling pretty damned hopeful. 

The first one had an error…apparently I am peeing-on-a-sick impaired.  The second, a couple hours later, read NotPregnant.  

Kinda harsh.

I don’t think I’ll buy this brand again.  Somehow seeing the words NotPregnant hurts more than seeing only one line or seeing one line and one mostly opacent line. 

So now, I’m left to deal with body-crippling fatigue and appetite-killing nausea, both of which, unfortunately, could mean I’m pregnant OR expecting the blood to start flowing any day now.

I hate my body.

“Look mommy!”

So I’ve been a mother for going on three years now, and I think I’ve pretty much got it down.  Granted, the job changes and evolves faster than my creatures on Spore do, but that’s okay; I like change.  I get pretty bored when things don’t change. 

That being said, I’m not a big fan of this new stage of motherhood…the stage where my almost-three-year-old can make my face turn a brighter shade of red than the period stain on my chair in a student goverment meeting freshman year in High School.  

Twice in one day my lovely, adorable, sweetheart of a daughter managed to embarass the living shit out of me. 

The first incident happened at Target.  Target holds a special place in my heart.  Simply put, I love everything about that store.  Imagine my dismay when, after using the handy Store Locater dealy, I found out there was no Target in Anchorage, Alaska,  and, subsequently, my elation upon finding out after moving here they are indeed building a Target! 

Piper, fortunately, shares my love for all things Target, although I suspect this has more to do with their massive toy selection and less to do with the fantastic home decor and purses.  We probably visit Target a few times a month…Piper gets to play with toys for a while, and I get to dream about the day when I can afford to decorate my house the way I want it decorated.  On this particular visit, we grabbed a cart and kept walking straight, with the women’s clothes on the right and the purses on the left.  Piper was having fun pointing out the different colored purses as we strolled by, and I humored her while scanning the swimsuits and clearance clothes. 

Then, it happened. 

She grabbed my hand, tugged a little, pointed with her free hand, and yelled in the loudest voice she could muster, “Look, Mommy!  BOOBS!!” 

You see, we had made it further into the store…and while I was still glancing over clothes racks, Piper was noticing the bras. 

I’m not sure how many people heard her, but there were two employees walking towards us, and one of them chuckled as he made his way past us. 

The second most embarassing moment of my life happened in the public bathroom at Best Buy.  We were picking out our new laptop, and I had to go potty, so, to save my husband the hassle of comparing features of laptops while trying to entertain a two year old, I took Piper with me. 

Turns out I had to go number two.  Which is cool, whatever…I’ve never been weird about going number two in a public place.  A toilet is a toilet, right? 

So I finish my business, and I’m wiping, and I brought the tissue in front of me so I could fold it over and use it again (I have an odd fear of clogging public toilets and tend to use as little tissue as possible), and my darling daughter, once again in the loudest voice she can muster, yells, “EWWW!!! You pooped!” 

Once again, I was rewarded with chuckles from the other bathroom attendees, while I quietly whispered to Piper, “DON’T SAY THAT!!!” 

Ahhhh….motherhood.

No, it’s not a typo.

I’m sure some of you who’ve somehow made their way to my humble little blog are wondering about that extra little “M” in my domain.  Yes, I know it’s there.  It stands for Military, because I am more than just a SAHM, I am a Stay at Home Military Mom.  My husband is in the United States Air Force, and I am damn proud of it. 

 Don’t worry; I’m not going to spend every post bragging about how sexy my husband looks in his uniform or complaining about the weeks he works 60+ hours or writing sob stories about how much I miss him when he’s deployed.  I love my husband, and I love the man he’s become since joining the Air Force.

 It takes a strong woman to be a military wife, and an even stronger woman to be a military mother.  I can’t tell you how many times I’ve felt like a single mom, and my husband’s only been in for a year and a half!  I’ve often wondered why it is I can hack it; why I can handle the long hours, the stress, the weeks without sex because of the stress.  I think it’s because this is the life I grew up with; my dad served 24 years in the Air Force. 

 My mother, even when we weren’t on the best of terms, was the constant in my life.  She was home everyday when my sister and I came home from school.  She made us dinner every night.  She packed our lunches every day, until the day we became too cool to tote a brown-paper-bag lunch, and she made sure we had cash or a lunch ticket.  She yelled at us to clean our rooms, do the dishes, and finish our homework.  When my dad was deployed, she took us shopping and to the movies to cheer us up.  When my dad was home, she planned weekend trips so we could experience the culture of  world surrounding us.  She was my girl scout troop leader.  She was my Odyssey of the Mind’s team coach.  She picked me up from soccer practice M-F.  She never once complained about my dad, my dad’s job, my dad’s responsibilities that would come before her more often than not.  She never complained about the fact that we made it back to the USA to visit her family an average of once every seven years.  She found a way to bring in extra cash on the side without having to put us in daycare by first starting her own cake-decorating business, and then by selling her beautifully made country crafts.  And even when I hated everything about her, I appreciated her…and I learned from her. 

 My hope is that one day, my daughter will be able to say the same thing.