33 weeks

I should make this post all about vomiting, but for all of your sakes I won't. Suffice it to say, I was sick Saturday night, took Sunday to recover, but then still felt really lousy and run down Monday and Tuesday. I was beginning to worry maybe pre-e had reared its head again, or I was having some other pregnancy complication as yet undiagnosed; until I spent all night Tuesday night throwing up again. Good times! So I either just hadn't really rid myself of the stomach bug, or caught it a second time, or caught a different one, or was just run down. Who knows? Fortunately B has not been sick again (knock wood!) and after taking the day to just lie in bed all day yesterday (it wasn't easy, but we pulled it off), I actually feel normal today for the first time in about a week. Or, normal for being eight months pregnant, anyway!

I have my midwife appointment later today, and fingers crossed all still looks good. I'm now 33 weeks, the point at which a lot of my pre-term friends started delivering. I'm pleased I've made it this far - but am also exasperated that even at 38 weeks this baby could be not fully developed, could still have respiratory issues, etc. It's still a long slog before it's really safe to have this baby. But still, I'm delighted by the following: with only seven weeks left, other than this stupid stomach flu, I am still able to operate at full capacity, which is more than I'd expected at this point; still no signs of pre-e (yay); I got my medical card so I think it's safe to say I may just not have a bankruptcy-inducing birth this time thanks to the ACA; and my weight will probably remain manageable at this point (I am up about 26 lbs, and can put on 7 more probably, but at least I'm not looking at huge gains from now on). 

The biggest things on my mind right now other than all of us staying healthy are getting my event launched Feb 1, my shower coming up this Sunday, and preparing for taxes at the end of Feb. I am cutting it so close with the money this year, it's a little frightening - I am having to put off all my debt payments until after Feb 1 (not a problem since they're not due until then, but I'm one of those people who prefers to pay bills the minute I get them), and am not even sure I'll have enough in the bank to pay my mortgage. I am counting on a big opening night like last year, but experience has taught me that results can be all over the place - one year I got one person signing up on opening night! This year unfortunately a couple of other events have decided to make their opening night the same as mine (or the night before, etc), so that may affect me negatively. I also haven't been able to announce my instructors because they've been giving me an unprecedented runaround, which makes the event look unprepared. But man, I need to make a lot of money, and fast. It's going to be a real nail biter this time.

Stomach flu, part II

I'm sad to report that B's vomiting episode Weds night was no fluke. I started to feel queasy Saturday and threw up all night. It was just awful. As another blogger posted about her recent bout with this nasty bug, I discovered much to my chagrin that throwing up this far along in pregnancy also means simultaneously wetting your pants. Good times, huh?

Thankfully B was not sick when I was - but I did have to deal with a spectacularly poopy diaper, making breakfast, and entertaining him while still feeling like I should be hovering over the toilet. It was pretty awful. Thankfully it was Sunday and I already had B booked for the Baby Kennel so I could go to an SMC meeting (which I of course had to miss), so I was able to drag our butts over there, drop him off, and spend the day lying in bed recovering. 

I'm still not 100%. I went to a meetup today that involved a child-friendly restaurant, but I just couldn't manage any food. I hope B doesn't get it from me and we just keep trading it back and forth. Two episodes of stomach flu in two months is a bit more than I can bear, really. 

Right now I'm in the middle of three loads of laundry and have about four trips up and down my front stairs to take out the mass quantities of garbage. No rest for the weary, eh? 

32 weeks

I am officially eight months pregnant...even though I technically have two months left to go. I'm pleased to announce that unlike earlier in the pregnancy, I have almost zero fear about the birth; it's so inevitable now that there's no point in being scared of it. It's better to just get geared up and prepared. I also do really believe now that this one will be different/aka better. And even if it's not - I never have to do it again! So there's that.

I've stayed off all week because I kind of wanted to see how my "Wake Training" would go before giving a full report - but it's kind of been all over the place. I did the hallway thing for two days, and it went ok - minimal crying, and at least I didn't start our long day together angry and flustered. But then late one night as I lay in bed I heard B wake up and start throwing up; considering how many people I know who are making their way through their second stomach flu of the season, I braced myself for a long night. Thankfully it was a one time thing, but I let him in my room to cuddle the next morning, and have ever since, and it's been ok. No hitting or throwing of things. Instead he now comes in and dumps his stuffed animals all over my bed and crawls in next to me to cuddle. Has he somehow figured out this is a better way to get mom's attention in the morning that smacking her in the head with a remote? Is this just a fluke? Who the hell knows. But I'll take it. 

I have been making more of an effort to be "present". Even though I'm with him 24/7, I figured it wouldn't hurt to play with him a little more, sit him on my lap facing me and sing a little more, etc. It's hard to remember these little beings really need us, especially when they only seem to want to run away from us all the time, and my main objective in life is to encourage him to be independent of me. Well, if it stopped the hitting, great. Whatever it takes, really. Because I couldn't take one more minute of that BS.

I broke down and put him on the waiting list for the preschool that is part of the baby kennel. I don't know why I didn't do this before; I guess I didn't realize they would have a waiting list. As it is I'll be lucky to get him in by summer - but I thought it couldn't hurt just to have his name down. It's not expensive but it's not cheap. I could never afford it right now - but in six months? Maybe. And the best thing about it is he knows and likes the place (I'm taking him there in about an hour) so I would think the difficulty transitioning would be minimal. 

We are in a weird spot with both of our health insurance where our old policies have been canceled but we've gotten zero confirmation on a new policy. I called Kaiser and they said mine was "in processing" but B is through MediCal now technically and I have not gotten a word from them. I will call Monday, but it sure is nerve wracking. What if we have an emergency? This thought crossed my mind the night he threw up; with his policy canceled technically dating back to Jan 1, I have no medical card for him and no idea even where to go. This whole insurance thing I'm sure will all get ironed out for us and end up way better than what I had before, but right now it's a bit of a mess. Just stay healthy and accident-free, Bumpus, is all I ask!

Wake Training

Today I met with my doula. Wow, these ladies really want you to have an unmedicated birth. I did not have the balls to point out how manipulative I thought her paperwork was; I was honestly too distracted and exhausted to care (see reasons later in this post). But she did want to warn me about all of the dangers of epidurals again, despite my stated preferences, and at one point said the one thing she feels really strongly about is the introduction of narcotics in labor and told me all the horror stories around that - until I pointed out I'd had morphine during my labor, nothing bad happened, and it helped me survive what turned out to be two more miserable days of excruciating induced labor that, had I not had any pain relief, would have absolutely resulted in a c-section. See, you just can't tell a second-timer that kind of stuff and get away with it. Anyway. Believe it or not despite all this I do not feel the need to find someone else. I think we understood each other that I know what I want and I will not be swayed. 

It brings me back to a question I posed before having B, though - why do women consider natural childbirth a "goal"? Why is "seeing how far you can get without an epidural" considered something to strive for? I mean, man, that pain is unreal, and can go on for hours, even days. In the old days women had no choice but to suffer. Why on earth would anyone choose that if they had an alternative, unless their head was full of those one in a million bad reactions? I just don't get it.

But anyway, back to me being exhausted and distracted. As always my mind is full of B, and especially how our home life, and particularly my life, has deteriorated to absolute shit over the last few weeks, and is getting worse and worse by the day. Why? Because B won't stop hitting me or chucking things at my head. That's why. 

He's not even doing it to be a brat. He doesn't do these things when angry, tired, or frustrated. He does them when we are having a nice time together playing and he gets all riled up and wants to have more fun. It is maddening. Yesterday I attempted to take him up to the playroom in the afternoon after I'd run myself ragged at a playground all morning and just couldn't face running around chasing him at yet another playground all afternoon, too. Did he play with any of his toys up there? Nope. He just kept climbing on to the daybed and hitting me. Or throwing toys in my face. I kept telling him no, no hitting, no throwing, and dunking him on the floor, sometimes explaining why, sometimes not. He would cry for half a second, not liking being on the floor, and then climb back on the bed and immediately start hitting me again like nothing just happened. This went on for hours. I finally just stood up and put my face out of the skylight to breathe, completely fed up and not knowing what the hell to do in the hours still left before dinner. I took us downstairs and sat in the kitchen staring into space, since we can't go into the living room anymore because he no longer listens to me when I tell him to stop touching things, and again just climbs onto the couch or chair with me and starts hitting me. 

So I stared into space for two hours just waiting for time to pass while he played around me. Then this morning it all started all over again - comes into my bedroom at 6:30 (after I've had about four hours' sleep), climbs on the bed, and starts hitting me. I try to redirect. I tell him no a thousand times. I dunk him on the floor. I explain over and over why he's being put on the floor. He cries. Then climbs on the bed and hits me. When he chucked both heavy TV remotes right at my head, I just snapped. 

I just put him out of the room and shut the door, so he would only have access to the safe hallway and his room, also safe. But not my room. And he cried. And I didn't care. Not one bit. I laid down and for the first time in weeks didn't have to worry if he was about to get hurt, hurt me, or destroy something. I was so tired I just didn't give a shit about anything. 

When I went out to get him later, he was asleep on the carpet. I woke him up and took him in for breakfast and it was like nothing ever happened. He was his usual jolly self. 

And you know what? I might try this again tomorrow. Anything on earth is better than being beaten up by your child for hours while you are eight months pregnant, horribly sleep deprived, and facing another day of chasing him around playgrounds all day just so he can get out his energy. 

So I'll change his sodden diaper. I'll dress him and give him snacks and drinks. I'll give him tons of safe toys. I'll give him hugs and kisses. But I will not give him the opportunity to throw things in my face and hit me again and again. Short of beating the crap out of him, which I refuse to do and which will no doubt not accomplish anything anyway, this is what I need to do to survive. In the mornings he just has to be somewhere else. And I really don't care if he likes it or not. I'm over it. It's either this or pop out of bed at six AM, immediately get us up and fed and dressed, and immediately get out of the house so he can run around all day from 7 AM until 5 PM. No, and no. And especially no when there's a new baby!!!

If I cared about his comfort level we would still be co-sleeping and he would still be keeping me up all night nursing every hour on the hour. Disbelieve all you want - I have a friend with a two-year-old who is in just this situation. It can happen very easily if you don't put your foot down.

So I am going to call this Wake Training. I have no idea if I will be successful in any way. But I have to do something or I will literally lose my mind. And this kind of thing - Bumpus rough housing around and being dangerous - is going to have major ramifications when there is a fragile newborn in the house. 

Just in case you're wondering I have done extensive googling on this issue, and much to my mixed pleasure/disappointment, this issue is very common. And it always is right at this age - just shy of two - and often has nothing to do with being frustrated because they can't communicate, or need attention, etcetera. They are usually just playing and pushing boundaries. So he's not a sociopath or a bad kid; he's completely normal. And it's almost always something that only happens at home when he's bored. And guess what - pretty much all of the anecdotal evidence I've read about this phase says there's really nothing you can do about it. Say no, of course. Distract, remove, all of that. But most women have found, like me, that nothing works. It's just something you have to power through, and can drag on for months. So for now I need to just limit the situations where it can happen. And be glad that right now I am his only target. 

I hate the toddler phase with the heat of a thousand suns. 

Commisery

Lately I've been feeling a lot less alone in my general exhaustion/exasperation with the whole "toddler thing". I guess I've reached out enough in real life and on this blog to feel like I'm not alone in my feelings. Sometimes when I read everyone's happy stories about their cute babies and all their new milestones I wonder what the heck is wrong with me - why aren't I enjoying this more? Why am I not only not grateful that I get to be my children's full time caretaker, but actually find myself longing for a job, even a shitty one, just so I can have an escape? I think the answer is most people feel this way, just few care to talk about it. And that's everyone's personal preference how open they want to be about the dark side of parenting small children. But you know me - bring it on!

I actually admitted to a friend last night that I find myself looking forward to the hours (or days) spent birthing this baby in the hospital because it means I get to have a frigging break! I felt insane saying this at the time, only to have her tell me when she was having her second child she felt the same way!

I have come to realize being at home alone with a toddler all day really sucks. I don't know how women have done this for centuries...maybe they had more easily accessible community than we do now; maybe they were so delighted to have survived childbirth that they didn't care what came after! I feel like all I do all day long is try to kill time. I spend an inordinate amount of time driving, sometimes to get B to nap, sometimes because being at home and pulling his hands off of things and trying to keep him from climbing on top of the piano is just too much for me to handle. It's all just to make it to bedtime so I can get out my paperwork and get to work, an area where I feel completely competent and in control, as opposed to parenting, where I feel largely incompetent and out of control. 

As I drive around I think of how many people like me are in those cars - sleep deprived new parents, parents of toddlers who have stopped napping and this is their one shot at it for the day. How many people are in that Starbucks drive thru line just killing time so their children will sleep. I don't even want the damned latte. I just want to kill an hour and Bumpus to sleep.

I have been thinking of using the baby kennel every weekend whether I need it or not. I have only ever used it when I had appointments on weekends or to see movies...but I think as the pregnancy progresses and once the baby is here, I might just book it every weekend so I have a few hours to myself to get things done around the house, or even, dare I say it, sleep? It's sort of a way of getting a pseudo-preschool; not really committing to anything, just getting him in the habit of being somewhere and socializing with other kids. We already go so often that he loves it now - runs away from me and doesn't even look back. When I ask him if he had fun when I pick him up he always enthusiastically says, "yeah!" I don't have much on the schedule for Feb or March for obvious reasons that I need sitters for - but I think I will give myself the gift of a little weekly break. It's going to feel weird but I think I really need it for my soul. 

In the meantime I am going to check out free indoor play areas at malls and other public places - and maybe try to set some kind of schedule for us so we have places to go and things to do. You know, like on this day we go to the nice little park in South Pas, this day we have a play date with so-and-so, this day we do the drum circle, this day we go to that coffee shop with the play area in the afternoon, etc. I know a routine would be beneficial for both of us. As mentioned, I'm sure we're both a lot more pleasant to be around when we've had a fun, full day!

31 weeks

I'm pleased to announce all still looked good at my OB appointment today. Still just "trace" protein in the urine. I'm fairly confident that at this stage last time I was at at least +1 and had been watched for some time. So much of my better attitude about the upcoming birth is based on a) continuing good health reports and b) being seemingly so close. Sometimes two months feels like an eternity; sometimes it feels like it's all happening too fast. As the weeks pass my fear of pre-term labor dissipates as well. If T were to be born now, it wouldn't be ideal, but he would most likely survive, and with little to no lasting health issues. A couple more weeks and we're really doing well. So. That's all good.

As to B's behavior. Thanks for all the helpful comments. I learned a lot from them. For now we've had a couple of very enjoyable days, because of two things: keeping us out nearly the entire day, and whenever he starts up with anything quickly re-directing. It works like a charm. I think I will keep doing this until he realizes slapping me and continuing to touch things after I've said "no" is not a fun game we're playing together. 

That's the problem - he does these things full of joy and laughter. He's not mad or being bratty. He genuinely thinks it's fun. And those couple of miserable days have shown me no matter how serious I make my face and voice, no matter how much I say no and don't touch or don't hit, no matter how much I put him down or walk away, he does not get it. And then I just get infuriated and try to come up with these awful "punishments" that he also doesn't understand or make any logical connection to. The time may come to institute a time out system - but I truly believe in my gut he's not going to understand. And I simply cannot face days or weeks of screaming, crying, and my own anger escalating, just to have him keep up with the shitty behavior anyway. My heart can't handle it - and neither can the skin on my face! If we were in public and he was doing something I didn't like I would swiftly pick him up and get him occupied with something else. So I've been doing that at home. It sucks to have to be so on top of him to make sure he doesn't mess with the faucets or oven burners or appliances...but it's manageable. Especially when we just stay out all frigging day. He's much more pleasant to be around when we've done active things all day rather than sitting home for even part of it. 

I'm so glad no matter how shitty our day was it always ends with hugs and kisses and I love yous. I love that he always hands me his tooth brush with such confidence once I've tucked him in, and I love how cute he looks under his little blanket all happy and ready for a new day's adventures. It's times like those when I feel more confident that we'll get through this.

Started off horribly...

So...after last night's parenting debacle, today started off like this: Bumpus comes into my room at 6:45 (after I've had four hours of sleep thanks to awesome pregnancy insomnia), climbs on the bed...and proceeds to laugh and playfully yell "no!"...and then smack me in the face so hard I saw stars and could still feel the sting of it an hour later. 

I grabbed both hands and said no, we don't hit, that hurts, etc etc, while he laughed, again thinking we were playing. Finally I said, "that's it - you're off the bed," and plunked him on the floor. Which made him cry, but didn't stop him from periodically climbing on the bed and smacking/kicking me until finally I just always held his hands so he would just stop hurting me. It's awful when you can't even trust your child to get close to you, cuddle with you or want to sit on your lap because they're always going to haul off and smack your face!!!

It made me so angry that I again thought about how horrid it would be if I ever did hit him - and that thought made me so distraught that I just broke down and sobbed. Sobbed like my heart was breaking. I just can't stand this. I knew toddlerhood was going to be really awful - and so far, it has not disappointed-!

Finally I had to haul my carcass out of bed and do our elaborate breakfast/showering/kitchen cleaning routine. Then I took him to the less busy playground, and that turned out to be a fairly pleasant morning. Nice people and not too many kids. Now I have to figure out how to keep us out of the house until dinner time. There's no way in hell I'm spending even a minute in the living room with him today. No way.

It occurred today that some of this may be related to the new baby coming - a woman at our music class explained to me recently that her two-year-old daughter had started pushing and being aggressive around the time she was a couple of months short of having her new baby. Just a theory. 

I think I will bring back the re-directing - I had dropped this tactic for the most part when he showed me that all I had to do was say "no no" and "don't touch" to get him to stop whatever he was doing - and this has worked for the last six months. But now that that's all shot to hell, it may be time to bring back the ol' "hey, look at this!" routine. Certainly a lot more pleasant and positive than barking orders (that are completely ignored anyway). 

Believe me, I don't want to be scary, angry mommy. But I still don't know how to let these kids know you mean business without at least using authority in your voice and physically making them face you and pay attention. Considering how much this, and everything else that happened last night, failed, I don't think there's much else to do at this point other than distract/remove. So for today we're going to just stay out all day and I'n going to keep my face out of range of being smacked. I'm exhausted and emotionally raw and that's all I can handle today. 

Four more hours 'til bed time. Sigh.