Just realized something...

I'm having a baby. Presumably in the next 5 weeks. I've been aware of this for some time now, but I just got to the point where it's starting to seem real. We're getting settled into the house, all my baby stuff is piled in the baby's room, baby clothes are still in plastic bins but easily accessible, new stuff is still in bags but where I can see it on shelves...I'm feeling pretty good. And then I realize that given how fast the last few weeks have flown by, perhaps I should organize her room. Or pack a hospital bag. Or find out exactly where the hospital is. Or book a hospital tour. Or buy nursing pads and I can't even remember what else. I was way more on top of this with Mabes.

I'm not freaking out, I'm really just amused. I mean really, even if I do nothing in the next few weeks, I have what I need. Even if I don't know where. I can put my mom to work washing and organizing clothes. It's just crazy how in my head "I'm pregnant" or "I'm having a baby" doesn't translate into "seriously, get ready to have another baby around." I have been trying to prep myself for nightwakings, though, so that counts for something, right?

And after talking to Sarah yesterday, I realized that it's pool time. I was going to do one of those ExpectNet polls, but I think I liked Sarah's spreadsheet better. Plus I think ExpectNet only lets you have one entry. So here are the rules: Up to 3 entries, email me or comment here. Guess the date, size, time, and hair color. And name, if you want (I'm still taking suggestions!). Winner will get a $5 Coldstone gift card.

Background info: I'm due January 5. Mabes was *technically* 4 days early, but according to my OB, she was 2 days late (even though an early ultrasound--the most accurate for dating purposes--matched up with my later due date). This time, OB, ultrasound, and I agree. Mabes was 9 lbs, 9 oz, and though I felt huge, I measured normally and my doctor was predicting a 7.5 to maybe 8 pounder. I had a really fast labor, so between that and Mabes' size, my doctor may induce me a week early if my body is showing signs of being ready. Oh, and feel free to guess the length of labor. With Mabes, I was in "real" labor for I guess 3 1/2 hours, but 2 of those were spent pushing the behemoth out. I'm not sure if I'm more afraid of this one being faster or slower. Mabes was born at 11 am exactly, and with dark hair. It wasn't until a month later that it fell out and grew back in blond.

It's just an old wives' tale, right?

I know old wives' tales mean nothing. For example, "they" say that if you have bad heartburn during pregnancy, your baby will have tons of hair. I had raging heartburn with Mabes, and, well...

Exhibit A:

So I keep telling myself I'm just being silly when I start to wonder if the ultrasound was wrong. I mean, "they" say children have stronger instincts and know what the pregnant mom is having. Mabes was absolutely convinced it was a boy. "They" say if you're carrying low and out front, you're having a boy. I'm carrying much lower this time; some days it looks like I'm shoplifting watermelons. I keep pushing those thoughts out of my head, but the other day at the grocery store the checker asked, "Have we discussed what you're having yet?" I said I didn't think so, but I'm having a girl. "No you're not. With the way you're carrying, that's definitely a boy."

Exhibit B:

Now, I know I should trust the sonographer more than the Harris Teeter checkout clerk. But it's still nagging at me. With Mabes, I had two ultrasounds and saw the shot from a couple of angles. Definitely girl. With this one, since I closed my eyes for the gender part, I only have one picture. One angle. Things can hide, right?

I'll be happy either way, but I'd just like to know. Especially given Mabes' reaction last time. Now that she's happy about a girl, I don't want to throw her for a loop again. And I'd like to know if I should buy a blue sleeper or two. So reassure me: it's just an old wives tale, it's full of crap, and I'm carrying lower because this is a second baby, right? Anyone? Mom? Sarah? Bueller?

My 4-year-old, the name snob.

Mabes and I were in the car today, and she was asking me how the baby was doing, if she was hungry, if it was dark in there, etc. (Mabes has been talking non-stop lately, perhaps in an attempt to avoid awkward silences. They really aren't awkward, Mabes...sometimes silence is nice.) The conversation shifted to names, as we're still working on a short list. Or any list, really. I had already vetoed Nickanot, Boyla (would you want the word "boy" in your name? she gave that one up quickly), and Airplana.

"What about Adelaide?" I asked.

"Um, mom, I don't fink dat's a real name. I fink you made dat up." Ouch. By the way Mabes, it is a real name and was before it was a city in Australia. But thanks for your input.

"What about Margaret?"

I don't love Margaret, but I love Maggie as a nickname. But I won't use a name that ends in -y or -ie as a given name, since our last name ends in -y. It just doesn't sound right. Maggie was my Grandpa's nickname for my Grandma, because her maiden name was McGee. I would love to name a kid after one of them, but given their names (Orval and Cleoma), Maggie is probably the closest I'd get. And Margaret is definitely growing on me. In part because of this ancestor on my dad's side. I mean, sure, a lot of people can say they're named for a great great grandparent. But how many can say they're named for a Countess who King Henry VIII had executed at the Tower of London? Plus, she's a slammin' hottie.

Mabes, however, was not impressed. "I fink Mar-brick is a boy's name."

"Well, what about Maggie?" I asked as I pulled into the parking spot. No answer from Mabes, so I turned around to see her faking sleep in her carseat. Okay, guess she's tired of talking about names. I helped her out of her seat, we headed into Home Depot, wandered around Christmas decorations, and I decided to revisit the topic. "So what do you think of Maggie?"

"Mom, didn't you see me sleeping in da car? I don't fink Maggie is a good name because it makes me fall asleep. I fink baby needs a name dat makes me wake up and say 'Wow! Dat's a great name!' Like Emaline. Not Maggie--it will make people sleep."

(To clarify: I haven't done the whole you're-so-boring-I'm-falling-asleep-midconversation thing in ages. I have no clue where she got that. Instinct?)

Nickanoo

In my list of random things last week, I forgot to mention the saddest: due to H1N1, our hospital has barred all visitors under the age of 18. Even siblings. So for years, I've been looking forward to having Mabes walk into the hospital room and meet her new brother or sister, and that's not going to happen. I realize that as far as sad things go, this isn't terribly serious. It ranks somewhere between missing House last week due to a delayed baseball game/Tivo error and when Dreyer's discontinued their Andes Mint flavor (it's a loss I still mourn). We'll have a great homecoming/sister meeting instead, but still. I'm bummed.

This pregnancy is flying by, we still don't have a name, and I'm alternating between feeling fantastic and hugely awkward. Just when I think the pressure is unbearable, I remember that if this kid is like Mabes, her weight will triple in the next 2-2.5 months. Yowzuhs. I sometimes find myself thinking, "I have 10 more weeks of this left?" but that's quickly followed by "holy crap, only 10 more weeks?!?!"

And I swore I wouldn't do it, but hey, this is my journal so why not? Here I am at 30 weeks. Note the change from 24 weeks--the torpedo belly is forming.
And to make up for the belly picture, here's an adorable picture of Mabes wearing the hat she made in Primary. And showing off her flower hair bow. Seriously, when did my baby turn into a little girl?

Gratitude

"I just want to say 'fank you for such a delicious dinner, mommy' again. Fank you such a delicious dinner, mommy! I hope you cook that again!" This was Mabes' "thankful" tonight. For all of her craziness and apparent sense of entitlement, Mabes is really good about expressing gratitude. I'm sure a lot of this is just her personality and I can't take credit for it, but I'd like to think that some of it comes from our nightly "thankful" time. Inspired by this talk, each night after her story and bedtime prayer, we all say at least one thing we're thankful for. Sometimes it's hard, but it's been good for us to end our day thinking about the good things. And perhaps it in some way has contributed to Mabes' ability to recognize when someone has done something nice for her.

She does still have to be prompted to say thank you when the receipt checker at Costco draws a smiley face on the receipt or the Trader Joe's employee gets her a balloon. But she consistently surprises me with the things she thinks to say thank you for--meals, washing her clothes, giving her a bath, or fun outings. It makes it much easier to deal with her running around the living room shouting "yee haw cowgirl!" 300 times when she pauses, puts her arm around me, and says "fank you for taking me for a walk this morning, mommy, it was really fun."

Oh, and the dinner tonight that was so delicious? Leftover lasagna, green beans, and salad, followed by a cookie. Yeah, it was good, but nothing special.

And I won't post pictures weekly (actually, this may be the only one, as I think the puffy-face-and-ankles stage is right around the corner), but here I am last week at 24 weeks. Had a good appointment today and my OB didn't even comment on the ridiculous amount of weight I've gained since my last appointment. I decided to tempt fate by making cookies, see post below. Oh, and now we're going to appointments every other week. Seriously?!?! This is flying by.
Mabes wanted to get in on the picture taking fun and was making me laugh. Note the bow holder in the background--I made it in, what, February? She still thanks me for it at least twice a week.

First day of school!

Okay, so I guess I should say "school." Having only one kid, I didn't feel like I could justify the cost of preschool here, so some friends from church and I formed a small preschool co-op. Mabes has more structured learning than she gets with just me, she's around other kids more, takes instructions from other adults, and I get some free time. It's great. We rotate the teaching schedule, and I'm even having fun planning my lessons--we'll see how that goes next week! Wednesday was her first day, and as you can see, she was very excited about it:

She's having a lot of fun so far, and was much better about leaving today than she was on Wednesday. ("I don't want to leave school! I want to stay at school all day!" Soon enough, kid...soon enough...) And I had fun getting my haircut and running errands by myself! I was surprised that I missed her a little, but there was no way she would have let me deliberate over plastic storage bins at Target as long as I did. Her only complaint about preschool is that she hasn't learned how to be a mermaid yet. Not sure where she got this idea, but she's quite set on it. That, and learning magic. I told her not to expect her Hogwart's owl until she's 11.


Mabes recently drew this picture of my parents, and at the risk of spoiling it, I'm going to go ahead and post it (Mom and Dad, you should be getting it today or tomorrow). Because I love it. For some reason, she's started drawing eyes and noses as huge circles, and it usually looks kind of weird. But on my dad, it looks like glasses. And next to his Mii, I think it's my favorite picture of him.


And yesterday while Mabes was trying to feel the baby kick, she observed that I always put her hand just below my belly button and asked why the baby was so low. Since she already understands epidurals and ultrasounds, I figured I'd go ahead and explain fundal height as well. I added that I was pretty sure that the baby's feet were up by my belly button and her head down low (given the odd sensations due to her hiccups the other night), and Mabes just started laughing. "You mean...she's upside down?!?!?" Yep, and hopefully she'll stay that way. "But...upside DOWN?" Yes, you were too, and that's good--especially when it's closer to the time to have the baby. "But olly bats like to be upside down! Our baby finks she's a bat!"


Perhaps Batman should be in the running. Unfortunately, now when I feel the baby kick, I just picture this in there:

(This is the best picture I have of those creepy bats at Animal Kingdom. I'm sure someone has a better one, but she still hasn't posted her Orlando pics yet...)

And it really creeps me out. Thanks a lot, Mabes.

What about Batman?

So we're sitting around discussing names, and Dave throws out Batman as a suggestion.

Uhhhhh...for a girl or boy?

A momentary pause while Dave's face falls. "Oh, right. We're having a girl. I guess that would be a boy's name."

Yes. Because the fact that we're not having a boy is the only reason we wouldn't use that name. I had an appointment today and my doctor asked Mabes if we had a name yet. Again, she responded with Nickanoo. He was amused by that, as well as Ricecake (who also got to come to this appointment), and at the end of the appointment said something about how maybe Mabes will get to tell him the name next time.

Yeah, don't count on it. At the rate we're going, it'll be a while. I'm taking suggestions, since Dave's are...less than helpful.



To clarify on Dave's behalf, though, if we did name a kid Batman, it wouldn't be pronounced BatMAN, it would be pronounced BATman. Like Bateman. Or Goldman. (There should be a GoldMAN!) It's actually kind of growing on me.

It's a...

After a pizza dinner at my parents' suite, Laura and Becca started the "Envelope! Envelope!" chant. I pulled out the envelope, handed it to Dave, and told him it was up to him and Mabes to tell us all. After briefly explaining to Mabes to look for a "g" for girl or "b" for boy, they tore open the envelope, pulled out the ultrasound picture, and looked for the tiny type. "It's a..." It took Mabes a second, and finally she saw it...

GIRL!

The family cheered, it sunk in, and she turned and buried her face in my legs and wailed, "But I wanted it to be a boy!" I felt terrible for her, but kind of expected it given her past reactions. And since it had been a long day of travel, she had been pretty wound up with everyones' arrivals, and it was an hour past her bedtime when we opened the envelope, any reaction would have been more extreme.

Sarah rushed over and told her that sisters are way better, and she doesn't want a brother because as Ainsleigh can attest, boys are stinky. This made Mabes giggle and call Dono stinky for the rest of the night. My dad pointed out that Grandma's second girl was Mabes' mom, so second girls couldn't be all bad. So Mabes quickly cheered up, we finished our evening, and then went back to our suite to get ready for bed and call Grandma Jackie and tell her the news.

She seems to be perfectly happy now. I asked her today if she wanted a boy baby, and she said "No, I want a baby sister. Maybe after you have my baby sister you can have a boy baby. She's been telling me she's excited to share her dolls and princesses with her sister.

I'll do a longer post later about the trip, but so far, we're having a blast. She loved Animal Kingdom and Medieval Times (oh my heavens watching her cheer on our knight was perhaps the funniest thing I've seen in a long time), though if you asked her how she liked the dinosaur ride she'd say "I hid my eyes in gramma's lap!" Okay, so it was kind of mean to let her go on so unsuspectingly, but she was a good sport!

Mabes drops the f-bomb

"Mommy, you're a fuss budget!"

Honeymoon's over. Okay, I know in the realm of a kid hearing something and repeating it, this is quite tame. As far as obscenities, it ranks right down there with William Thacker's use of "oopsie daisy" in Notting Hill. But still. Mabes hit a new milestone this week: name calling. I know all kids do it, and I know it will get much worse once she's in elementary school, but it's still kind of sad. (Though her choice of names was kind of funny.) Thanks a lot, George and Martha. Your hilarious hippo antics have taught my 3-year-old to call me outdated names.

Oh, and we had an ultrasound with a specialist this week. Because of my heart, my OB wanted an in-depth look to make sure baby's heart is okay. The baby was very cooperative and they were able to get all the measurements they needed, and they even got a few shots they don't usually get until later. So the perinatologist is confident that the baby's heart is perfect. Yay!

So what is it, you ask? I don't know. That information is sealed up in an envelope in my carry-on, to be opened tonight once we're officially "on bay-cation," as Mabes is calling it. I've held out all week, I can wait a few hours more, right?