tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-142826352024-03-23T14:18:24.416-04:00Two Pink Lines into MotherhoodThoughts, Feelings, and Ramblings of first time parents.Corinnehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00975511454126970157noreply@blogger.comBlogger455125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14282635.post-34048903295592430702007-11-09T14:41:00.000-05:002007-11-09T14:44:36.553-05:00New SiteHello everyone! I've been wanting to switch to wordpress for sometime, as it will allow me to moderate comments and actually respond to your comments via e-mail. My new site is <a href="http://thedistractablemommy.wordpress.com">The Distractable Mommy</a>. Update your bookmarks, as I'll be phasing this blog out and eventually deleting it. Thanks!Corinnehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00975511454126970157noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14282635.post-26668034117591447832007-11-08T08:57:00.000-05:002007-11-09T12:40:00.846-05:00ClarityI haven't posted for some time because things have been a tad, oh what's the word, fuzzy? around here. Life in the past few weeks has been a roller coaster of highs and lows, and writing about it just seemed like the last thing on my mind. Two weeks ago, I gave up the ghost and quit breastfeeding. Colette was still having trouble with her digestive track, and I was growing ever more frustrated with no dairy and just the process of breastfeeding with two children under 2. We switched to soy formula, and almost immediately, we saw major improvements with Colette. She's sleeping better, her bowels have no more blood in them, and she's generally happier. I, on the other hand, have regained a tad bit of sanity (not that there was much to begin with). Forrest is now able to help feed Colette, and I'm able to take some time to myself a few days a week. Even though these things are wonderful, I must admit that it was very difficult to give up breastfeeding. When I switched Shepherd to formula at 7 months, I was ready. I needed my body back to myself. I was completely spent by the end of the day, and tired of removing myself from the room if he grew hungry to feed him. This time, however, I felt I was just getting the rhythm of breastfeeding down, and we were bonding. It was the 30 minutes after feeding that killed me, with her crying and then the dirty diapers that scared me. In the end, it was best for both of us to make the switch.<br /><br />Along with that, there has been the ever increasing awareness that I haven't been able to focus as I should. Simple tasks take much longer than necessary to accomplish, and an ever growing anxiety takes over while doing such routine chores. Acknowledging this has been hard, and has spurred me to work hard on simplifying our lives and seeking help when help is needed. I have a hard time asking for help, as sometimes it feels as though I'm showing weakness. I could be alone in this, but more often than not, I find that our experiences as mothers are more alike than not. Don't get me wrong, I'm very well aware that asking for help is not weakness, and in fact shows courage and strength, but knowing that and living that out are two very different things. Often we as mothers compete with one another, and with that competition comes pretension. We fail to share with one another our weaknesses, and we miss out on the opportunity to understand that we are not alone in whatever we are going through. Our common experiences should compel us to unite, to band together, and help encourage one another through something. Blogging has helped me with that, but there are mothers out there who have no such outlet, nor do they have the close friendships with whom they feel safe to share. I am constantly reminding myself that I'm not alone in my struggles with motherhood, that it is normal to have to walk away for a minute to regain your composure, and that it is healthy to admit that sometimes, this identity as "mother" can be overwhelming and at times, feel more dutiful than joyful. There are days I daydream about working a desk job (if you knew me, you'd know that there's nothing more I hate than working a desk job) where I can get away from the kids. And I must own those moments as my own, and refuse to deny them what they are. Because more often than not, accompanying those moments are moments of clarity. Brief glimpses of why it was that we chose this path, why we chose to wreck our bodies with pregnancy and birth, why we chose to stay at home, or work outside the home, why we made this decision to become mothers in the first place. Those moments of clarity, though often short and unexpected, are like treasures to me. I live for those moments. When Shepherd snuggles into my neck before naptime and kisses me goodnight, or when Colette wakes me in the morning with a wide smile, it's more than enough to remind me that this, <span style="font-style: italic;">this</span>, is why I chose this. If it were not hard, these moments of clarity would be lost to me, and I'm thankful for the hard times, if only because they teach me the importance of the moment.Corinnehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00975511454126970157noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14282635.post-74472646589461521652007-10-30T08:50:00.001-04:002007-10-30T08:50:37.991-04:00Match Made in Heaven<style type="text/css">.flickr-photo { border: solid 2px #000000; }.flickr-yourcomment { }.flickr-frame { text-align: left; padding: 3px; }.flickr-caption { font-size: 0.8em; margin-top: 0px; }</style><div class="flickr-frame"> <a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/twopinklines/1799014400/" title="photo sharing"><img src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2185/1799014400_9a47391bb6.jpg" class="flickr-photo" alt="" /></a><br /> <span class="flickr-caption"><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/twopinklines/1799014400/">My Pregnant Nun</a>, originally uploaded by <a href="http://www.flickr.com/people/twopinklines/">meandscreech</a>.</span></div> <p class="flickr-yourcomment"> Have I mentioned lately how much I love this man and his creative genius? We hosted a halloween party this past weekend. Adults only (!!!!), costumes, food, and did I mention, no kids?! Anyways... several days before the party we were trying to figure out costume ideas, and Forrest happened upon the idea of a Priest and pregnant nun. Needless to say, I wasn't too thrilled about dressing up as a pregnant lady. Something about going through two pregnancies makes pretending to be pregnant not so much fun. So my idea was to reverse the roles. I'd be the priest, and he the pregnant nun. Perfect! <br /><br />The party was a blast. It was so much fun hanging out with our friends without distractions (i.e. toddlers!). Don't get me wrong, I love my kids dearly, but every now and then, it's a whole lot of fun to do something without them. Halfway through the evening, the guys challenged the girls to a game of Guesstures. They promised a smackdown, and boy oh boy, was it delivered... only, I don't thing the guys meant we'd beat the pants off of them. :) <br /><br />The best costume there was our friends J & T (you may remember them from my labor story... they had a son the same day Colette was born). He came as an Energizer Battery, and she a container of salt. Together, they were "a salt and battery". Speaking of costumes, I need to get some pictures of Shepherd and Colette dressed up. Be on the lookout for those pictures...</p>Corinnehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00975511454126970157noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14282635.post-65567400973329567912007-10-22T14:14:00.001-04:002007-10-22T14:14:09.202-04:00At least we know how he feels about me...<style type="text/css">.flickr-photo { border: solid 2px #000000; }.flickr-yourcomment { }.flickr-frame { text-align: left; padding: 3px; }.flickr-caption { font-size: 0.8em; margin-top: 0px; }</style><div class="flickr-frame"> <a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/twopinklines/1693425711/" title="photo sharing"><img src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2147/1693425711_2c3249d4df.jpg" class="flickr-photo" alt="" /></a><br /> <span class="flickr-caption"><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/twopinklines/1693425711/">At least we know how he feels about me</a>, originally uploaded by <a href="http://www.flickr.com/people/twopinklines/">meandscreech</a>.</span></div> <p class="flickr-yourcomment"> Let's hope this isn't a true indication of Shepherd's feelings for his mother....</p>Corinnehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00975511454126970157noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14282635.post-17771713096059578332007-10-10T15:13:00.000-04:002007-10-10T15:41:11.125-04:00Sad Goodbyes15 years ago, give or take a few months, I sat giddy as could be in the front seat of my parents Ford Taurus. We were on our way home, and cradled in the palms of my hands was this tiny orange ball of fluff. My brother and I promptly named him Garfield, after one of our favorite comic strips. Our golden retriever was so taken with him, that she'd attempt to nurse the cat, patiently waiting as the tiny powder puff attempted to tap the long dry wells. He was an outdoor/indoor cat who brought us wonderful little gifts such as yard moles and mice. He'd deposit them on our steps, proud of his days hunt. Other times, we'd find larger animals, squirrels and rabbits, much to my horror. I remember being so angry one time as he trotted across our front yard, baby rabbit in his jowls still kicking. When he wasn't outside, he was inside, curled up in the corner of the white chairs in the living room or on one of our laps. You could wake up on a cold winter's morning only to find Garfield had managed to take over your pillow, leaving you nothing but the cold hard mattress. He tolerated Maggie as a new addition to the family (our other golden retriever), and surprised us all by allowing Shepherd to occasionally pet him, even if it meant his tail was grabbed and pulled. He only smacked Shepherd once, and even then it was more warning than anything.<br /><br />This morning, around 11, I drove Garfield to the vet. As I drove, I cried. I cried for the 12 year old girl in me, whose excitement had turned to sorrow, now... 15 years later. I cried for my brother, who couldn't be there to say goodbye. I cried for Shepherd, who would wake up from his nap at my parents and race around looking for the "TAT!!" But most of all, I cried for Garfield. He'd developed a sudden onset of Glaucoma, and was in significant pain. The only option was to remove his eye, a surgery that cost way too much for a cat as old as him. Not only so, but there was a suspected thyroid condition, and his veins were next to impossible to find. I sat there, holding him as the vet administered the medication, and as his breathing slowed, the tension he'd held from the pain let go. He quietly drifted asleep, no longer in pain. I don't know if another life exists for pets, and sometimes it seems quite silly to wish for such things. I'd like to believe that he's somewhere better... free from the pain. But if not, I pray he rests in peace, beneath the wisteria in our family's flower garden...<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-W3A5O2iPC74O1h1z1WMQ7coXgDJUVib948aZREcyWTBYuXE9_FGmrmh1iiIVtMPftaG-lNhlEoPTe_muY0V_JmSsDAPUlxxa2RxlqKjunRHvVnpLbF2wTYX-1o-1OivYb6Kr/s1600-h/IMG_4495.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-W3A5O2iPC74O1h1z1WMQ7coXgDJUVib948aZREcyWTBYuXE9_FGmrmh1iiIVtMPftaG-lNhlEoPTe_muY0V_JmSsDAPUlxxa2RxlqKjunRHvVnpLbF2wTYX-1o-1OivYb6Kr/s320/IMG_4495.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5119794518057952498" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkvNtrs8JZVl2WcPCi_7NKEGDrhAtOPiBy6HmjN01QsM1XYoSNStCei-P_meHVwJN9RADy7bGupdL6N1uEVdu80C0wAGHCeDhdv8fmv9np9pjAKGdqbWexZyTxeBOIyupj4jwE/s1600-h/IMG_4351.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkvNtrs8JZVl2WcPCi_7NKEGDrhAtOPiBy6HmjN01QsM1XYoSNStCei-P_meHVwJN9RADy7bGupdL6N1uEVdu80C0wAGHCeDhdv8fmv9np9pjAKGdqbWexZyTxeBOIyupj4jwE/s320/IMG_4351.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5119794530942854402" border="0" /></a><br /><br />Goodbye Garfield... you were loved beyond measure and will be missed immensely.Corinnehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00975511454126970157noreply@blogger.com13tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14282635.post-6830076600965501222007-10-09T12:27:00.000-04:002007-10-09T12:30:31.740-04:00Me: So tonight, we were walking and he kept shouting "BOOOOOO-BIE" from the front of the stroller.<br /><br />Him: Great... we're raising a pervert.<br /><br />Me: No, we're raising a boy.Corinnehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00975511454126970157noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14282635.post-79139103259072074152007-10-08T12:14:00.001-04:002007-10-08T12:14:57.813-04:00Beauty<style type="text/css">.flickr-photo { border: solid 2px #000000; }.flickr-yourcomment { }.flickr-frame { text-align: left; padding: 3px; }.flickr-caption { font-size: 0.8em; margin-top: 0px; }</style><div class="flickr-frame"> <a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/twopinklines/1515522507/" title="photo sharing"><img src="http://farm1.static.flickr.com/246/1515522507_4e046f9a1c.jpg" class="flickr-photo" alt="" /></a><br /> <span class="flickr-caption"><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/twopinklines/1515522507/">A Half Smile</a>, originally uploaded by <a href="http://www.flickr.com/people/twopinklines/">meandscreech</a>.</span></div> <p class="flickr-yourcomment"> Things are still busy around here (when are they not?!) but we're settling into some sort of routine. Colette is more alert these days, and we have fun sitting in Shepherd's playroom and talking to her. Shepherd walks up and says "Hi baby!" and kisses her on the head. He jabbers on with her, and just this morning, asked "Baby play?" I know he can't wait until Colette is a tad older and able to run around and play with him. Until then, we have to keep him out of Colette's crib (he's figured out how to climb into the crib) and try to teach him not to pick her up (I turned my back the other day, to turn around and see him holding her, still strapped in to her swing, and pulling at her to "Hold it!" My poor daughter...<br /><br />Colette is trying to smile more and more these days. She's a very serious little girl, taking everything in. From time to time, I'll look down during a diaper change, and she's grinning ear to ear at me. She has such a beautiful smile. She's also babbling and squealing more in effort to try to communicate. She sits in her bouncy seat while I try to fix dinner, and suddenly the room is filled with grunts and squeals. I look down at her and she's half smiling, and looking around. So observant!! She's also one tall glass of water. Even though she doesn't weigh 10 lbs yet (well, she might, but last time we were at the doctors she was 9 lbs. 3 oz and that was Monday a week ago), she's outgrown all of her newborn clothes. They were supposed to last until 12 lbs!!! She's just tall and nothing could button at the crotch. I imagined she'd be a tall girl by the size of her feet, but man alive! she's growing super fast!! So fast that every moment I have to hold her, to snuggle with her, to smell her hair... I take advantage of. I want to savor this, because it passes so quickly...</p>Corinnehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00975511454126970157noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14282635.post-70029644927998447022007-10-03T16:37:00.000-04:002007-10-03T16:39:44.885-04:00How to Charm MeTilt your head to the side, smile softly, and gently say "Hi Mommy!"<br /><br />Man, this motherhood gig is awesome!!Corinnehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00975511454126970157noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14282635.post-57381153985186696602007-10-02T16:37:00.001-04:002007-10-02T17:08:09.621-04:00Going Green (or at least trying)I haven't blogged much lately, mostly because it's too crazy around here what with two kids to keep track of, huge piles of laundry to wash, floors to vacuum, tables to dust, and bathrooms to clean. With all of that, who has time to sit down and blog? As I type, Shepherd is conked out, and Colette is content in her swing, allowing me a few moments to myself. <br /><br />A few weeks back, after changing my 12th diaper for the day (I'm only counting one child here, and yes, this was before 5 pm) and tried to jam it into the overflowing Diaper Champ, I stopped a moment to think. This was the second bag of diapers that we'd filled that week (tall kitchen bags, mind you) for only one kid. I thought of those diapers headed off to our landfill only to sit there for 500+ years and never decompose. I'd thought about it before, but had been able to justify such waste (or at least ignore it) based upon convenience and lack of resources to justify an upfront purchase of cloth diapers. I'd not really thought of the total cost for one child, much less two. That evening, I sat down and did some research and figured we could save a TON of money by switching to cloth full time. Especially switching for both kids. Granted, it required a large initial investment, but within 5 months, the cloth diapers would pay for themselves.<br /><br />Not only would we save money, but we'd be able to reduce our carbon footprint and help do our little, meager part in saving the environment. We'd already switched our lightbulbs out for new, energy efficient ones, as well as to quit using warm or hot water for our laundry to cut back our power bill, so this was the logical next step. I went ahead and purchased <a href="http://www.happyheinys.com/">several</a> <a href="http://www.fuzzibunz.com/">pocket</a> <a href="http://www.bumgenius.com/">diapers</a> and some <a href="http://www.greenmountaindiapers.com/diapers.htm">prefolds</a> with <a href="http://www.greenmountaindiapers.com/covers.htm#Bummisw">covers</a>. I figure we'll use the prefolds at home during the day, and pockets for outings and for overnight.<br /><br />Yesterday, I received my first batch of diapers in the mail. Eager to try them out, I washed and dried them, and slapped them on my kids bottoms. Shepherd looked at me, puzzled as to this glorious softness on his bum. He kept grabbing his diaper, and smiling at me. Colette could care less for what i could tell (I mean, come on, she's a baby!). So far, so good... Shepherd made it overnight in one of the pocket diapers without a leak (and he's a heavy wetter at night). Colette had a poopy diaper that was completely contained by her diaper. What remains to be seen is how Shepherd's diaper holds up to his blowouts. I'm still waiting on the prefolds and covers to come in, so I'm doing laundry like mad to keep them in the cloth diapers, and hang drying them to save on energy in the meantime. Any of you have experience in cloth diapering? Tips? Favorite brands? Washing routine? <br /><br />Anywho, I've probably spent way too much energy and time researching diapers and obsessing over them (just ask Forrest), but now that they are here, I can breathe out a sigh of relief, and just sit back and smile as I watch my lil' punkin' butt run around like this (I'll get a picture of Colette up as soon as she'll let me take one of her without her screaming in the picture):<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfDrpFN_L5I4tWB_KQ59JpBoNZRVYyT6SaDtq75r7I49qOk8DlHlQcCiC7SnDJAu7xtpoQzvoJe43gkdWpycko0Xx0uUZvkWvYSpcM-OMb_uZxUESZH43LjvR6gVL8C8OVkMX5/s1600-h/DSCN4908.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfDrpFN_L5I4tWB_KQ59JpBoNZRVYyT6SaDtq75r7I49qOk8DlHlQcCiC7SnDJAu7xtpoQzvoJe43gkdWpycko0Xx0uUZvkWvYSpcM-OMb_uZxUESZH43LjvR6gVL8C8OVkMX5/s320/DSCN4908.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5116845885570294978" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjla3BSXAm_UfGsFX_wcuotiFgCHOR-WNMLXjfFGieT04ky1SMEj1RfRAieTpDnsfulCXQm2JR_vEY6gd5_IiUB4iegHar7ZIKys_fWZ0-Gg2s08fP1OF8DnrMPe6jj6QbkGPN/s1600-h/DSCN4914.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjla3BSXAm_UfGsFX_wcuotiFgCHOR-WNMLXjfFGieT04ky1SMEj1RfRAieTpDnsfulCXQm2JR_vEY6gd5_IiUB4iegHar7ZIKys_fWZ0-Gg2s08fP1OF8DnrMPe6jj6QbkGPN/s320/DSCN4914.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5116845898455196882" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjW3nQtRMUIYpu1IGEsOVRO4St1gQbCxOKslriXHecw2fQy7uA4FXY9Aps_EdfXEhUy7dovKU5GI8g9_EWanomxYnxrF312RWdDb1fJJcPQBaREhKzHiCwi1-JfNVaAdpyhdbrq/s1600-h/DSCN4915.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjW3nQtRMUIYpu1IGEsOVRO4St1gQbCxOKslriXHecw2fQy7uA4FXY9Aps_EdfXEhUy7dovKU5GI8g9_EWanomxYnxrF312RWdDb1fJJcPQBaREhKzHiCwi1-JfNVaAdpyhdbrq/s320/DSCN4915.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5116845907045131490" border="0" /></a>Corinnehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00975511454126970157noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14282635.post-58793801651987601702007-10-02T08:34:00.001-04:002007-10-02T08:34:37.552-04:00For your Viewing Pleasure<object width="425" height="350"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/G8VyVI-Lgu0"></param><param name="wmode" value="transparent"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/G8VyVI-Lgu0" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" width="425" height="350"></embed></object>Corinnehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00975511454126970157noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14282635.post-19349611228168478882007-10-02T08:19:00.000-04:002007-10-02T08:26:49.021-04:00SyntaxThe other day, as I changed Shepherd's diaper, he smiled, waved downwards, and said, "Bye-bye ni-ni!" Yes, we have our first two word sentence, but somehow, I'd hoped for something other than waving bye to his "ni-ni".<br /><br />(By the way, that's not what we're calling it... we've decided to use the <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=k1Yl0-1UDX0">proper words</a>)<br /><br />(And another note, we aren't planning on showing him that video either... that dude just plain creeps me out)<br /><span class="on" style="display: block;" id="formatbar_CreateLink" title="Link" onmouseover="ButtonHoverOn(this);" onmouseout="ButtonHoverOff(this);" onmouseup="" onmousedown="CheckFormatting(event);FormatbarButton('richeditorframe', this, 8);ButtonMouseDown(this);"></span>Corinnehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00975511454126970157noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14282635.post-87412814747547896442007-09-24T11:06:00.000-04:002007-09-24T09:57:35.899-04:00Birth Story: Part 2We arrived at Triage around 11 and were greeted by my friends J and T, walking the halls. Forrest and I went on to check in, and once we were hooked up to the monitors, found my contractions to be every 4 minutes, lasting 1 minute. I was checked, and was 1.5 cm, 60% effaced, and -2 station. Not wanting to send me home, they had me walk the hospital halls for an hour to come back and be checked again. We walked, and walked.... and walked....... I had to stop and breathe through the worst contractions, rocking side to side, holding on to the railing on the wall. After an hour, we went back, and rested. We tried to get some sleep (to no avail), and at 1:30 am, I was checked again. Thankfully, I'd made some progress. I was 3 cm, and 60%. They made me get up again and walk. This time, I was able to walk with J, while Forrest and T hung back and chatted. It was quite a joy to have my friend there, going through what I was going through. Looking back, it made the whole experience that much easier.<br /><br />I wasn't checked again until 5 am, and I was still 3 cm. The nurse assured me that they were working on getting a room for me. She then encouraged me to keep walking, as my contractions were now starting to space out, and we didn't want labor to stall. As we walked out into the hallway, another woman was being wheeled into triage. Her face was calm, collected, and a bit tired. I leaned in to Forrest and said something along the lines of, "she can't be in labor, she looks too good". We met up with J & T and continued to walk. 5 minutes into our walk, the nurses station bursts into energy with women yelling out things, and running everywhere. We stood to the side of the hallway, and suddenly, out of triage, a nurse runs out carrying a baby. J's eyes and mine meet, and we realize that the woman who'd just been wheeled in had delivered her child in triage. She'd checked in at 10 cm (how on earth she was as calm as she was, is beyond me), and delivered in 2 minutes, almost in the toilet! They wheeled her out of triage and to her room, and we continued to walk while they cleaned triage up.<br /><br />Our wait for a room was delayed even further at this point, since the triage-delivery lady had taken my room. We waited another hour, and finally, at 6 am, I was checked in to a room. At 6:30, my doctor came in, noticed my contractions spacing out (they were down to every 10 minutes apart now) and tried to convince me to start pitocin. I resisted, asking if there wasn't another method, and he suggested breaking my water. He checked me, and I was 5 cm, 70% and 0 station, so he broke my water. Forrest and tried to get some sleep, but I was too excited to sleep.<br /><br />Around 8 am, the doctor came back to check on me, and my contractions still had not picked up. He was worried that my labor was stalling, and again encouraged the pitocin. We talked at length about the pitocin, and Forrest and I talked it over. At this point, I was pretty exhausted, having not slept a wink in 24 hours. We decided that it was probably best to go ahead and at least try a very low dose of pitocin. Within 30 minutes, my contractions picked up, and around 9:30 am, I asked to see the anesthesiologist for my epidural. We had the most thorough doctor in the world, who explained all of my options for pain relief... including some I hadn't considered. I decided to go with the epidural, since I'd had a good experience the first time with it. They inserted my epidural, and all seemed to be doing well until my blood pressure suddenly dropped. I suddenly felt awful, like I was withdrawing into my body, and started throwing up. Thankfully, the doctor was right there to administer whatever medication it was that was needed to counteract the drop in pressure. He had explained the possibility of this happening to us before it happened, so it wasn't quite as surprising as it could have been. I think it helped Forrest the most, as he was able to remain calm, knowing this was a common side effect.<br /><br />Around 10:45, my doctor came back, checked me ant I was 6 cm, 90% effaced, and +1 station. I was incredibly exhausted at this point. Our family had arrived sometime that morning, and we finally sent them home at 11. We told them we'd call when I hit 10 cm, and started pushing so that they could be there shortly after the birth. Once everyone had left, Forrest and I were able to sleep. We took a good 45 minute nap (a heavy, deep nap at that) and woke up refreshed.<br /><br />At 2 pm, I was having incredibly painful pressure on my pelvis, so much so that I requested a second dose of the epidural medication. After they upped the medication, the doctor checked me and announced I was 10 cm. Shortly after, I felt this incredible urge to push. I mentioned it to the doctor who gave me strict orders not to, since they hadn't gotten everything set up. I had to breathe through 5 minutes of setup, which by far was worse than any part of the labor thus far. The doctor told me to try one push, as he wanted to get an idea of how long it'd take. He asked me how long I pushed with Shepherd, and I responded 45 minutes. He then smiled and said, okay, we're aiming for 4 minutes this time. I laughed, totally thinking he was kidding, and pushed. He stopped me on the count of 3, and turned and told the nurses to get ready. He turned back and said, okay, push again. We pushed through one 10 count push, and then to the count of 2 on the second push, and the baby's head was out. One final push and she was here. I was able to hold her immediately, and cried. Forrest looked at me and asked me what her name was (I'd been having second thoughts on the name, and just decided I'd wait to see how I felt when she was born). I cried, and immediately responded, "Colette Rachel". She was beautiful....Corinnehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00975511454126970157noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14282635.post-85002250974360906702007-09-20T11:58:00.000-04:002007-09-20T12:16:56.116-04:00Oh, Hi!!!That's right, I have a blog, don't I? And I haven't posted in quite a while, eh? So I guess some of you are wondering what the heck happened to me (or not). You see, I have a very good reason... a super great reason, actually. <br /><br />It's called being a mother to two kids who are only 18 months apart. That combined with the numerous trips to the doctor (more on that in a minute) and a serious lack of sleep have made time on the computer a rare treat, and time to blog a rarity. So please forgive my absence. I really am okay. <br /><br />As to the doctors visits, poor little Colette seems to have developed a nice little milk allergy, complete with bloody stools that have sent me climbing the walls with worry. Do you guys know how awful it feels to change your daughters diaper, and see blood, and know it's your fault because you drank dairy? Granted, I know that it's not really "my fault" because I was unaware of the allergy, but still... it still sucks. So that accompanied by her reflux (our family has a history of GERD, something Shepherd had too) has had us at the doctors quite a bit. Thankfully, both problems seem to be getting better. After only 3 days on Zantac, Colette began packing on the pounds (she'd only gained 4 oz the week before, and gained 5 oz in 3 days after Zantac). Also, in the last few days, she has begun to pass stools without blood in them, which makes me feel a million times better. I've been off dairy for almost a week now, so it looks like we're seeing some improvement. <br /><br />As to how Shepherd is doing, he seems to have hit a weird stage. He's Jekyl and Hyde.... one minute pleseant as can be, and the next, he's thrashing on the ground in a fit of rage because how dare I deny him a cookie!!!!! The world must end now!! God save us!!! *sigh* I'm chalking it up to the whole transition with the baby, even though he absolutely loves the baby and hugs her and kisses her all the livelong day. My hunch is that he's missing out on attention, and he's not quite able to pinpoint why that is (which, duh!! the baby!). Hopefully, things will settle back down.<br /><br />But despite all of that, I feel that I've been able to transition from a parent of one to a parent of two fairly easily. Yes, we have our moments, but honestly, it hasn't been that bad. I may be exhausted, but it is <span style="font-style: italic;">so</span> worth every minute of sleep that I'm not getting to have both of my children. I wouldn't trade it for anything in this world...Corinnehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00975511454126970157noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14282635.post-40085962965686886782007-09-07T14:15:00.001-04:002007-09-07T14:15:41.095-04:00Land of Nod<style type="text/css">.flickr-photo { border: solid 2px #000000; }.flickr-yourcomment { }.flickr-frame { text-align: left; padding: 3px; }.flickr-caption { font-size: 0.8em; margin-top: 0px; }</style><div class="flickr-frame"> <a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/twopinklines/1342069637/" title="photo sharing"><img src="http://farm2.static.flickr.com/1318/1342069637_1b86dbfce1.jpg" class="flickr-photo" alt="" /></a><br /> <span class="flickr-caption"><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/twopinklines/1342069637/">Land of Nod</a>, originally uploaded by <a href="http://www.flickr.com/people/twopinklines/">meandscreech</a>.</span></div> <p class="flickr-yourcomment"> because I can't get over how beautiful she is....</p>Corinnehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00975511454126970157noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14282635.post-22594148121857698792007-09-04T11:06:00.000-04:002007-09-06T11:06:13.665-04:0018 MonthsShepherd,<br /><br />You turned 18 months old last week (or rather a week and a half ago). As usual, I was behind in writing your letter, and then something unexpected happened. Your baby sister was born 2 weeks early. So here I am, almost 2 weeks late, reflecting over the last month.<br /><br />Your 18th month was hard for me, since I was GREAT with child. Your energy level had shot through the roof, and keeping up with you proved to be a big challenge. There were mornings I'd wake up crying, knowing I couldn't play all the games you wanted to play. There were nights I'd lie awake wondering how you would handle such a huge transition from being an only child, to becoming a big brother. I mourned the loss of exclusive time with you, absent of any distractions, and I mourned your loss of having our undivided attention and love. However, I was reminded time and again that this was an important step in our families lives. You would learn to share the spotlight... our hearts would grow and expand to hold all of our love for you, and for your new little sister. This was an adventure, I'd tell myself... and it will be okay.<br /><br />Then, just as you'd turned 18 months, your little world was turned upside down. One night, mommy and daddy put you to bed, not knowing it was your last night being alone with them. The next day, you woke up to find Gram and Grandaddy taking care of you. Mommy and Daddy were at the hospital, anxiously awaiting your baby sisters arrival. The next day, you came to visit Mommy and Daddy in the hospital, and met your baby sister for the first time. And since then, you have loved her, and constantly beg to "holdit". <br /><br />As far as you go, you continue to amaze us with your knowledge and how quickly you pick things up. It took only 15 minutes to teach you where your cheeks were, and you instantly were able to point out everyone else's cheeks. You're starting to put words together now... words like, "daddy shoe" or "daddy tool". You'll break out a "daddy hat" every now and then, and point to "daddy phone" when he's home. Now, if you'll notice a pattern, most of those words are about daddy. The only thing you point out as "mommy's" is the diaper bag or the van. And even then, you don't know the words for bag or van, so it's just "mommy!". <br /><br />Shepherd, I think the thing I love most about you is the tenderness in your little toddler heart. A few weeks ago, there was a humongous wasp flying around in the kitchen while we ate breakfast. I hate wasps. They sting and hurt. So I took my sandal off, and promptly squashed that sucker flat. You took all of this in, and as soon as I'd killed the wasp, you broke into the most heartbreaking cry. You looked at me in horror, and screamed as I tried to comfort you. You'd have thought I had killed a tiny little kitten, not a venemous, evil wasp! At first I chalked it up to the loud noise of my sandal hitting the window, but then days later, as a big spider scurried across the floor, I stepped on it, and produced the same reaction from you. I guess we won't be telling you that those hot dogs you love to eat are made from "moos" (cows) anytime soon. <br /><br />But by far, the best thing about this past month has been a renewed perspective of how much you really have grown. After coming home from the hospital, and holding you, I realized how much has changed in 18 months. Time has flown by, and for a moment, that first night home, time stood still as I rocked you in my arms for bed. You curled up on my chest, snuggled your face into my neck, and slowly drifted into sleep. As your breaths grew deeper, knowing you were asleep, I allowed myself a few tears... tears of joy for how much you've grown, yet tears of sorrow for how fast it has gone. I kicked myself for all those moments I had wished you'd just "grow up already!" and held you tight. I promised myself I'd try harder to enjoy each moment... to savor each and every day, because time passes so fast... and before I know it, you'll be a young man, no longer able to sit in my lap and fall asleep.<br /><br />I love you, Pumpkin... with all of my heart. <br /><br />Happy 18 months,<br /><br />MommyCorinnehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00975511454126970157noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14282635.post-25578222853378751472007-08-29T10:05:00.000-04:002007-08-29T14:30:31.761-04:00Some Photos!<div style="text-align: center;"><div style="text-align: left;">Thought I'd post some updated photos of the little girl since coming home. She's so beautiful!! Things are going super great, and Shepherd is adjusting quickly to the idea of the "bee-bee" staying here. He wants to go "night-night" with Colette in her crib, he gives her hugs, and this morning, he asked to "holg it" (seriously, Justin, he said "holg it" just like you used to!!). I'm working on the rest of the Birth Story, bear with me... it's a lot harder bloggin this time around! :)<br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7ENUNivTbDCC2ONk6QVyjuQhNm0Uh6VFaencKdLIEr1iM4WX74QyJVkN28nN9vLlwbIGLAXrEjUc909aq37eFxr39xcDbz01erKi5dCDaNQsQyh0l8EQHYBPJ2_dAVTZQqtTR/s1600-h/DSC_0026.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7ENUNivTbDCC2ONk6QVyjuQhNm0Uh6VFaencKdLIEr1iM4WX74QyJVkN28nN9vLlwbIGLAXrEjUc909aq37eFxr39xcDbz01erKi5dCDaNQsQyh0l8EQHYBPJ2_dAVTZQqtTR/s320/DSC_0026.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5104124362417601458" border="0" /></a><br /></div>Sleepyhead!!!<br /><br /><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVIg4yWa2GrtR2a1aPBJcD8CqGgLSi3qQBY2WJAQoAO9bq7vbBAOtjqdjGVLiFHhvknbFSbMOQ-7_Q7PO5HKGHO-FBu4pseohiAFXhRAUxrTwAYQ4QD6qpA0YKaCBAWhXfK1Ku/s1600-h/DSC_0031.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVIg4yWa2GrtR2a1aPBJcD8CqGgLSi3qQBY2WJAQoAO9bq7vbBAOtjqdjGVLiFHhvknbFSbMOQ-7_Q7PO5HKGHO-FBu4pseohiAFXhRAUxrTwAYQ4QD6qpA0YKaCBAWhXfK1Ku/s320/DSC_0031.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5104124375302503362" border="0" /></a><br /><div style="text-align: center;">Toes!!<br /><br /><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjs4Mf8gVv5GQmF8zq_xzJwVRgEWPdnGEroC8OfjuGg3cU6UjD2SSFlOxXavjEeumUkCyTa0204NH1aSNGiSM2HWx9suq3_FPYHS4tcAw12mO7APq9ommWWxI5PhMrzE8A6CA9t/s1600-h/DSC_0045.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjs4Mf8gVv5GQmF8zq_xzJwVRgEWPdnGEroC8OfjuGg3cU6UjD2SSFlOxXavjEeumUkCyTa0204NH1aSNGiSM2HWx9suq3_FPYHS4tcAw12mO7APq9ommWWxI5PhMrzE8A6CA9t/s320/DSC_0045.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5104124379597470674" border="0" /></a><br /><div style="text-align: center;">Baby Hair!!!<br /><br /><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBfsgv6gnA_ONX5uHkvd_398BtvmXDFOf9gOCbsl3UEZ4U02NoIi5e6pHqyfnVnezXNYslTeweAY49jgrNgC-k5Xr5-7YKVNj7BX6-mXjcKh10cE5_yabECHt31rvQBeWeZ_qk/s1600-h/DSC_0027.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBfsgv6gnA_ONX5uHkvd_398BtvmXDFOf9gOCbsl3UEZ4U02NoIi5e6pHqyfnVnezXNYslTeweAY49jgrNgC-k5Xr5-7YKVNj7BX6-mXjcKh10cE5_yabECHt31rvQBeWeZ_qk/s320/DSC_0027.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5104124392482372578" border="0" /></a><br /><div style="text-align: center;">Cutiepie!!<br /></div>Corinnehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00975511454126970157noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14282635.post-47549731586176017402007-08-28T14:54:00.000-04:002007-08-28T15:11:47.497-04:00Birth Story: Part 1It started Wednesday morning. I called my friend "J" who was due the day before to see how things were progressing for her. She said after the doctor had stripped her membranes, she'd started having some mild, irregular contractions that had continued until that morning. We planned to meet up at the mall that afternoon to walk, hoping to get her contractions regular and send her into labor. We met and walked for close to 2 hours, stopping from time to time to look around a store or two. We waddled from Sears to Macy's and back again, trying to figure out if she was having contractions (this was her first pregnancy). Finally, Shepherd had enough of the walking while being confined to a stroller, so we wrapped up our walking, and said our goodbyes. As my friend walked away, I joked, "See you at the hospital tonight!!" (Really meaning that I hoped she'd go into labor... I had no intentions of going into labor that night).<br /><br />On the drive home (around 4), I noticed some contractions, irregular, and strong. I sighed and chalked it up to false labor again. I'd already had several nights with episodes of regular strong contractions lasting several hours only to fizzle out, so I wasn't getting my hopes up. Shepherd and I got home, and started piddling around the house, playing with his toys, and getting supper ready. Around 5, I noticed that my contractions were pretty regular now, and if I guessed, I'd have to say they were about 5 minutes apart, not that I started timing them, because this? This was false labor, my friends. Forrest got home, and insisted we start timing the contractions. They were lasting a minute long, coming 3 1/2 to 4 minutes apart. Again, unconvinced that this was true labor, I waited for another hour. I checked again around 7, and they were still the same interval and length. I'd been timing the contractions for 2 hours, and with them not letting up, decided to call my friend "S" who has 4 children (all under the age of 6), and who also happens to be a nurse. She said for me to drink a ton of water, walk around the block for an hour, and then see if the contractions were still regular. My mom came over, and we walked. The walking only made the contractions come harder and last longer, so after 30 minutes, I was ready for a break. We sat in the living room, and timed them again, with them coming every 3 minutes and lasting a full minute. We timed them for 30 minutes, and then I realized I'd had regular contractions that I'd been timing for 3 hours now (non-timed, 4 hours). I called another friend who is a nurse at my OB, and told her what was happening. She suggested I go on in, as she knew that the Labor and Delivery at the hospital had been packed out lately, and beds were short in number. She said if I wanted an epidural (and boy, oh boy, was I going to want one), I needed to go on in. I hesitated. I still wasn't completely convinced that this was true labor, and even if it was, I probably would be more comfortable at home. But something in the back of my mind reminded me that I would most definitely want that epidural. I showered, packed my things, straightened up. Forrest packed the car, got ready, and we called my parents to comeback over to watch Shepherd. <br /><br />Once we got in the car, I decided to call my friend "J" to let her know that I was on my way to the hospital, and to see how she was doing. Her husband answered the phone, and let me know that they had been at the hospital since 10 (it was 10:30) and that they'd see us in a little bit. I laughed, not believing the fact that I'd be laboring with my friend. Maybe, just maybe our children would be born on the same day after all!!Corinnehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00975511454126970157noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14282635.post-70839510597091074082007-08-26T05:49:00.000-04:002007-08-26T05:59:15.579-04:00Home!We're home!!! We were discharged yesterday around 11 am, allowing us to settle in at home. Shepherd is adjusting well to the "bee-bee" and loves running up to her and rubbing her hair, saying "hay!" over and over. Last night, I knelt down beside Shepherd's high chair with Colette so that he could get a better look at her. He grabbed a piece of cheese and tried offering it to her. I smiled, thanked him, and told him Colette couldn't eat cheese yet... that she only drinks milk. He put the cheese back, grabbed his sippy cup, and tried to give it to her. It was the sweetest thing I've ever seen, and I totally lost it crying. :) <br /><br />So we're home... hopefully, I'll get cranking on the birth story soon. :) Thanks for all of your well wishes and congratulations. They truly mean the world to us.Corinnehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00975511454126970157noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14282635.post-1546636845322228112007-08-24T12:16:00.001-04:002007-08-24T13:08:31.690-04:00Happy Birthday, Colette!(This is Forrest, Corinne's husband.)<br /><br />Just wanted to let everyone know that Colette was born to two ecstatic (and very tired!) parents yesterday at 2:57 pm! She is 7 lbs. 3 oz., 20 inches long, and was born healthy and active.<br /><br />Corinne is doing wonderfully, as there were no complications, and is already up and about and taking care of the new little one. She will most likely come home sometime tomorrow.<br /><br />She's already begun writing about the incredible birth story and we have tons of pictures to upload. (Here's a quick pic to pique your appetite!) More to come in the next few days.<br /><br />Thanks to all for your thoughts and prayers!<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhn_OPLmMTaD5gKDh5pK85h9GcJbH-oIBoexiTK6hv1TAmIhFNKRvkS5YtHoM1lnvXq-2ZGJUtZ3rSN4LrMwMoX7S3wLXSzMBC0Z2QSN1tNWKuSeFHROtWhVAW__x0eFOWKQpG2/s1600-h/0824070701b.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhn_OPLmMTaD5gKDh5pK85h9GcJbH-oIBoexiTK6hv1TAmIhFNKRvkS5YtHoM1lnvXq-2ZGJUtZ3rSN4LrMwMoX7S3wLXSzMBC0Z2QSN1tNWKuSeFHROtWhVAW__x0eFOWKQpG2/s320/0824070701b.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5102313995047631778" border="0" /></a>Corinnehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00975511454126970157noreply@blogger.com13tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14282635.post-11260305492164376622007-08-23T03:06:00.000-04:002007-08-23T13:30:16.815-04:00this is it! UPDATED!!hello everyone, this is corinne's brother, justin. i'm updating you all on corinne's status, and the first thing to say is that she has been admitted at the hospital in winston-salem. last i spoke with her, she was 3 cm. dilated and 50% effaced, which means the time is most likely upon us. i'm waiting to hear word from them again, but i'm sure i'll be updating this as soon as i get word. so we're just getting ready to welcome the new baby girl into our lives!<br /><br />ok so i'm talking to corinne right now. as of 1 pm, she's 7 cm. dilated, 90% effaced, plus 1 station. the doctors started a little bit of pitocin because labor was slowing down. everyone is doing fine, and corinne says "this is a much better birthing experience than the last one, even though the last one was good."<br /><br />check back for more updates throughout the day.Corinnehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00975511454126970157noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14282635.post-3638522421867041192007-08-16T15:10:00.001-04:002007-08-16T15:17:57.430-04:0037 weeksFirst off, a hearty congrats are in order for Reesh and Devinder (and of course little Lily) over at <a href="http://2pinklines.blogspot.com">2 Pink Lines</a> on the birth of their second daughter, Nadia. I have to say, I'm awfully jealous of the name, since it was my number one pick for a girls name, but didn't sit right with Forrest. :) So congratulations to you all!<br /><br />Second off, I'm finally full term. Which means my body has kicked into high gear with all sorts of contractions. In fact, yesterday, I had a day full of semi-regular contractions. They tapered off towards the afternoon, only to ramp up again last night. The PA at my doctor's office checked me at my appointment yesterday, and said the baby was low (between -2 and -1 station), my cervix is still thick, and I'm a "fingertip" dilated. So... there's <i>some</i> progress. Today I haven't had many contractions, but the few I've had were intense and put a lot of pressure on my pelvic girdle. So, we'll see when it all happens. <br /><br />My mother-in-law and father-in-law are placing bets on when the baby will be born (not literally, yo, just for bragging rights) and I thought, why not include you guys in on the game? <br /><br />Cathy has voted for August 28th.<br /><br />Jim, for September 1. <br /><br />Bear in mind, my due date is September 7, that Shepherd was born right on time, and that there's a full moon on the 28th. That is all information they are privy too, so you now have all the information needed to make an educated guess as to the birth date.<br /><br />Hey, I may even throw in a nice little surprise... a gift card to somewhere or something like that. So, happy guessing!! And here's hoping I don't have to wait 3 more weeks in this heat to see this baby. :)Corinnehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00975511454126970157noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14282635.post-29624161868701839882007-08-07T07:26:00.000-04:002007-08-07T07:31:34.074-04:00Early RiserSo, usually I wouldn't complain about it being 7:20 am and being wide awake. If you'd asked me a month or so ago, I'd have told you it was pure heaven to sleep until 7:00. But see, the thing is, Shepherd has been sleeping in until 8 or 8:30, and some days even 9:00. I know... you hate me, right? And today, I'm really not complaining about Shepherd waking earlier, because really, that would be incredibly unfair. <br /><br />Today... I'm annoyed at the neighbors stupid burgler alarm that went off at 6:20 this morning, and didn't stop for a good 10 minutes. So I've been up since then, unable to go back to sleep... yet trying so hard, as Shepherd was still sleeping. But now, as it's 7:30, I can hear him through the monitor, talking and laughing at his toys. I know I should go get him... but would it be so bad to let him play in there until he gets cranky? Because these eyes? Just won't stay open any longer.....Corinnehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00975511454126970157noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14282635.post-57777519131830687872007-08-06T12:48:00.000-04:002007-08-06T13:04:37.930-04:00Hot and HottSo last week, while hanging out with some friends at Starbucks, I was suddenly struck by the urge to, well... you know, potty. I get up, and there in the seat is the most beautiful ass-print of sweat. I'm totally rocking the ass-sweat look these days, it's HOTT! <br /><br />I bring this up because it's a relatively new thing to me, this butt sweat thing. I've poured over my archives with my first pregnancy, and nowhere do I mention the massive amounts of sweat that pour out of my body. I'm guessing it has something to do with the fact that my 9th month being pregnant was in January, and this time around, it's smack dab in the middle of August. Not only so, but it is HOT outside. This week temperatures are supposed to soar into the upper 90's (Wednesday, 98 degrees... heat index 104) (I'm sweating right now just thinking about it). <br /><br />It's so hot, that I'm only taking cold showers now, and even those I'm dreading because I have to blow dry my hair. Yes, I have to. Otherwise, it'd be days before my hair would dry, and even then, it develops this funky smell and feel to it. So on the days that I do shower (which isn't often enough) (I know, you were just DYING to know that) my internal thermostat gets so out of whack that I can't seem to get cool. Just last week, I almost passed out at church from the heat... even though everyone else said it was rather cold in the building. The doctor checked me out Monday and said he thought it was a combination of heat, the baby not dropping and sitting in my ribcage, and sitting down that did it, so no more Sunday morning showers for me. <br />In other news, the baby seems to have dropped. We'll find out Friday if any progress is being made, but I've had some pretty rough Braxton Hicks contractions, accompanied by some wonderful pelvic pain from the baby engaging. I keep hoping that I'll be a little early, but then I realize that these last few weeks are the last weeks that Shepherd will have my full attention... so I'm trying to give him 100% attention and do as much as I can with him, which is getting harder and harder to do, being 9 months pregnant and all. <br /><br />Well, I'm going to go curl up in front of the fan on our bed and take a quick nap while the little man is down for his. I'd better enjoy the rest while I can!!Corinnehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00975511454126970157noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14282635.post-58130539410709067992007-08-02T15:22:00.000-04:002007-08-02T15:36:48.141-04:00ExpandingExhibit A: 22 weeks pregnant<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiu0MT6FV7cYaC9T6L-SkS4AQWk17zKB1P1dprLqTg98j6zLZU_CxXKLWuCveL69f7B8vI8R9Fkrgo_6BGA_SvSRfkxmu6QLMelZZdz4p7cSO1Yzj-HfMiy_B-65NcR9Nw8gThm/s1600-h/DSC_0045.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiu0MT6FV7cYaC9T6L-SkS4AQWk17zKB1P1dprLqTg98j6zLZU_CxXKLWuCveL69f7B8vI8R9Fkrgo_6BGA_SvSRfkxmu6QLMelZZdz4p7cSO1Yzj-HfMiy_B-65NcR9Nw8gThm/s320/DSC_0045.JPG" border="0"alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5094188293640783986" /></a><br /><br />Exhibit B: 27 weeks pregnant<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFI94RfpW59maQ4ZQx7QAUSP9XOrSfebstUruxnrMtuKp39ilTEgA-oa8SKX0z0y6m5NMJzqhrFrG_unfbBoxKwV-IFQ_DOJBvdjTOjr7tRoQ3xeq24u9ZtIaFbfno51u09ez8/s1600-h/DSC_0021.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFI94RfpW59maQ4ZQx7QAUSP9XOrSfebstUruxnrMtuKp39ilTEgA-oa8SKX0z0y6m5NMJzqhrFrG_unfbBoxKwV-IFQ_DOJBvdjTOjr7tRoQ3xeq24u9ZtIaFbfno51u09ez8/s320/DSC_0021.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5094188302230718594" /></a><br /><br />Exhibit C: 35 weeks pregnant<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijOQHV0i017TRCu_4ZEu7ZkzCUZKsM1JeoOs3c59C48sKsOEOFF6WJD9fvKHd9_1xGtFfUXouGUw9rGCnmjBB2WMYcQtJEMopzwNYsOx3-o6B5oQls-Pq2EPPK3GG3bf-A_VON/s1600-h/DSC_0079.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijOQHV0i017TRCu_4ZEu7ZkzCUZKsM1JeoOs3c59C48sKsOEOFF6WJD9fvKHd9_1xGtFfUXouGUw9rGCnmjBB2WMYcQtJEMopzwNYsOx3-o6B5oQls-Pq2EPPK3GG3bf-A_VON/s320/DSC_0079.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5094188310820653202" /></a>Corinnehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00975511454126970157noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14282635.post-78169392706351664672007-07-20T08:48:00.000-04:002007-07-20T11:36:35.919-04:0017 monthsShepherd,<br /><br />I sit here typing this as you sit beside me, eating your breakfast and chatting away. Some of what you say makes sense, and other words are just groups of syllables strung together that sound convincingly like a foreign language. At times, you talk about the man in the picture hanging on our dining room wall, the one of the old man with a beard praying. You used to point to him and make your sign for beard, and smile proudly. Lately, however, you've been pointing to him and signing "bear", which is comical, since I'm sure if the old man were real, he'd be quite burly and bear-like. <br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEVY1hS3WG5F3FZJjMCOCqRcm7YBxCrlCtq4gsQ2y4bzdOz2BjNYzgqmSg0eZPArZ6kqtwcU8m9PVwrhBeyefsNg2DSLnVi8pejcl5NnBt00_-P_FLq0dFat_t8A7A25H4u4we/s1600-h/DSC_0032.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEVY1hS3WG5F3FZJjMCOCqRcm7YBxCrlCtq4gsQ2y4bzdOz2BjNYzgqmSg0eZPArZ6kqtwcU8m9PVwrhBeyefsNg2DSLnVi8pejcl5NnBt00_-P_FLq0dFat_t8A7A25H4u4we/s320/DSC_0032.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5089301994745364226" /></a><br />The other day, I bought you a pair of knock-off crocs (yes, mommy is cheap and refused to pay $25 for a pair of shoes you'll outgrow in no time). You absolutely adore these shoes, and each morning, you wake up chanting "sue! sue! sue!" By the time I reach your room, and get you out of bed, you're begging to put them on. You love all shoes, quickly pointing out our shoes, and always trying to put our discarded shoes back on our feet. There is one problem, however. Your feet can get quite smelly during the course of the day. This has led to a fun game at diaper time, where I take your shoes off, smell them, and proclaim "stinky!!" You love this game, and you try so hard to put the two words together. Last week, you succeeded as you removed your shoe, smelled it, and proclaimed "stinky sue!!" <br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEji_eN7pxiJ2lcj3-aopDU-5nwaNtLkl7NrFFoalBNMvXmQ9SbYbvzhoSBo4kuS3bTPE9PPweXR3kIsM_jJo-jEKsrVIwY5WSfDW0mJOWHAYxHL2sACds3kanOZbyleRNDc0RuQ/s1600-h/DSC_0015.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEji_eN7pxiJ2lcj3-aopDU-5nwaNtLkl7NrFFoalBNMvXmQ9SbYbvzhoSBo4kuS3bTPE9PPweXR3kIsM_jJo-jEKsrVIwY5WSfDW0mJOWHAYxHL2sACds3kanOZbyleRNDc0RuQ/s320/DSC_0015.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5089301999040331538" /></a><br />Your climbing skills have accelerated so fast, that I can't keep up with you anymore. I've found you standing atop the coffee table, dancing on the kitchen table, and most recently, scaling the brick wall in our sunroom, only to perch yourself precariously on the window ledge. I beyond terrified to find you there, and it prompted numerous neurotic google searches on "when to transition from crib to bed". I'm terrified you'll climb out of your crib and fall and hurt yourself, however, you've shown no interest in climbing out of your crib, and are usually content to be in there. However, those google searches did show me that you are growing up so incredibly fast. You're one month away from being 18 months... exactly one and a half years... and I'm amazed at all that has changed.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNxFwK68737jrNTXrNb16GKmcETGjs24QgmJdsb2szxCUif8kBeOB3NWyIPCsP9Bnml0_hGGR8-WFfjJvFRN7wzcKcwtYmK3ywqxUdTh3yWxJIrCPVZREKcpeIt1d63BCsMX_O/s1600-h/DSC_0007.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNxFwK68737jrNTXrNb16GKmcETGjs24QgmJdsb2szxCUif8kBeOB3NWyIPCsP9Bnml0_hGGR8-WFfjJvFRN7wzcKcwtYmK3ywqxUdTh3yWxJIrCPVZREKcpeIt1d63BCsMX_O/s320/DSC_0007.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5089302003335298850" /></a><br />I'm so excited to be a part of this journey with you. I'm blessed to be with you daily, to watch you grow, learn, and explore the world around you. I could not have asked for anything more fulfilling than this... being your mommy. I love you little man. <br /><br />Happy 17 months!<br /><br />-"Nonny"Corinnehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00975511454126970157noreply@blogger.com2