5:45 on Monday morning.  We’ll be leaving for the hospital in a few minutes!  Yay!  Iwent to bed early last night(complements of Ambien), and it was so worth it!  Because now I’m wide awake and really ready for today!

With my other pregnancies, I was surprized at how quickly it all went.  This time has been different.  I guess because I was so sick, and because we had so many major life changes during this pregnancy, and I had the misscarriage just last year….well, it feels like this pregnancy has lasted a long, long time.  And I’m more ready this time(I think! 🙂 ). 

Emmie woke up at somepoint last night and just wanted me to hold her.  We’ve been talking to her about the new baby, and that the new baby is coming and all that jazz.  But I think it’s just really now starting to sink in.  With my friends Jesse and Noelle here to keep her and Tucker, she knows something big is up.  In some ways I’m sad that she won’t be “the baby” anymore.  But it’ll be good for her.  And I think she’ll take well to her Big Sister role.  She’s quite the little mommy with her toys.  She even changes their diapers!  🙂   Eventhough I might not be brave enough to let a 2 year old change a diaper, it’s nice to know that she’s willing to help.  But last night, she just wanted her mommy to hold and cuddle her.  She just wanted to be the baby a little bit longer…and I wanted her to be, too, if I’m honest with myself.  So she stayed in my bed for a long time last night.  Until her breaths were slow and even, and I was sure she was sound asleep.  And as I went in to kiss her this morning, I was surprized at just how big she looks.  

Tucker…is just Tucker.  He doesn’t seem to care one way or another that there’s a new baby coming.  I think he gets it, but I think it’s a “been-there-done-that” kind of thing for him.  I hope he’ll be excited when he meets the new baby.

Well, I’m going to be late if I don’t stop typing.  The hospital doesn’t have Wi-Fi, but I hope Marshall will be able to update you all sometime today or tomorrow.  Otherwise, check facebook!  🙂

I have enough experience to know that being 1cm dialated isn’t a big deal.  But I was still pretty pumped when the doc told me that she could feel the baby’s head.  With an induction date set for Dec. 22nd, I can’t complain too much…but I sure wouldn’t mind if I went into spontaneous labor before then.  Y’all pray hard.  I’ll pray hard.  And let’s see if we can’t pray this baby out or something…

I was never a girl scout.  (Or is that the boy scout motto?  Well, I wasn’t one of those either…).  Let’s just say that even though I was never a scout of any kind, I’ve always been the girl you wanted to have around if you found yourself in need of some random item.  My purse is(and has been for a long time) crammed full of lots of crap that’s very often not needed, but turns out to be a life saver in the most random of moments.  Have a headache?  I have Tylenol, Ibuprofen and Alleve.  Paper cut?  I’ve got bandaids.  Stinky breath?  I probably have some gum and some of those little melt-on-your-tongue thingys.  Need a pony tail holder?  I have a few hundred in the bottom of my bag at all times.  Snack?  It’s really smooshed, but I do have a granola bar!  See what I mean?  Always be prepared.

But here I find myself with #3A being as unprepared as I’ve ever been.  Not mentally or physically…I’m so ready to meet him or her, and my body is more than ready to rid itself of this “parasite”.  But we still don’t have a name picked out(boy or girl).  We still have boxes completely filling the baby’s room.  (You can get to the crib, but not the glider/rocker.)  I don’t have a concrete plan set up for what’s going to happen with Tucker and Emmie while we’re at the hospital.  We also don’t have a plan for the dogs.  I haven’t packed a single thing for the hospital…for me or the rugrat.  I just don’t have it together this go ’round. 

Last night I was having some pretty significant pain…Braxton Hicks,  unfortunately, because they would never settle into a good pattern.  I’ve felt pretty crappy all day today, too.  So it’s given me plenty of opportunity to lay around and think about all the things that need to be done.  But have I actually done any of it today?  No…I did take 2 naps and watch “The Holiday” though.  Oh…and the kids and I read about 100 books this afternoon.  That has to count for something, right?

So…instead of focusing on what I haven’t done, let’s take a quick look at what I have done. 

I washed the carseat.  It was pretty gross.  Em got a kick out of trying to fit in it. 

I’ve been through the “big kids” clothes to see what was salvageable, but I’m realizing now that formula spit-up stains get very, very dark over the 2-4 years the clothes have been in storage.  If it’s a boy, we’re doing ok on clothes.  Tucker was also born in January, so there are a lot of winter 0-3 month clothes.  But if this little one ends up being a girl, she’s sunk.  Emerson was born in August.  No cold weather clothes for her in 0-3 month size!  So…if you’ve asked me if there’s anything we need, and if it happens to be a girl, then my answer is clothes. 

I’ve read/skimmed 4 baby name books, and looked online countless numbers of times…but have yet to find anything that seems to sound good together, and also sound good with Tucker and Emmie.  You have to have sibling name flow.  And First Middle Last name flow has is important, too.  I have a system of what’s acceptable sounding and what’s not…but it’s really too confusing to try to explain.  It just has to flow…

I have a plan of what to do with Tucker and Emmie if #3A comes after school is out.  But if (s)he makes her debut before the end of school, I’m floundering…

With both of my other kids, the hosptial rooms were full of our family and friends.  This hospital is much smaller(as are the rooms), and they have rules about how many people can be allowed in the room.  I’ve kind of not been thinking about this because I hate to have to pick and choose who comes in and who gets left outside.  But we need to figure this stuff out, too, and let people know what the plan is.  Of course, how often to things actually go as planned?

I need to make a “to call” list and an “email” list.  And I need to delegate people to take care of each of those.

And I need to take time, like today, to just sit back and enjoy these last few days/weeks of feeling a little one move inside me.  I need to enjoy letting Emmie be “the baby” for a little bit longer, and enjoy watching Tucker transform into a really “big kid”.  I know that once the baby comes, I won’t have as much time to listen to them play trains or “Dora” when they don’t think I’m listening, or watch “The Grinch” from start to finish with no interuptions, or hear little feet pounding all the way down the hallway and into the living room and into my room each morning…all to be greeted with crazy bed-head, stinky morning breath, and unlimited snuggles.

So yeah…I’m excited, and unprepared.  But as I write this I’m feeling better about it.  The baby won’t care about the boxes or whether or not there’s a bed in that room.  Girls can wear boys clothes.  And there will be somebody who can keep the kids, I’m sure.  And what really matters most is not all the planning and preparing of the “stuff”, but the planning and preparing of our hearts and our home(not our house) for a new little one.

If you can’t stomach gross stories or just don’t like them, please stop reading now.  Come back tomorrow.  I promise to have a more upbeat post then.  Something light, short and funny.

I think my body actually believes that if it can cause me to vomit frequently enough or violently enough, it may just be able to rid itself of that pesky little ball of cells causing so many problems. My throbbing head, aching abdomen and unsettled stomach are about to convince me that they are right.

With my other pregnancies, nausea slipped in the door quietly at about 9 weeks…and just as polietly excused itself at around 12, knowing when to make a discreet exit.  I have to admit that during that whole time(from the beginning of pregnancy #1 until now) I thought you “sickly” type preggos were drama queens.  Playing all the rest of us for the fool, just trying to gain some sympathy.  I’d roll my eyes whenever I heard things like, “I just can’t handle cleaning the toilet when I’m pregnant” or “I can’t even look at feta cheese without wanting to hurl.”  Stop your whining!  Clean the toilet and eat the cheese, I’d smugly think.  You can’t be that bad off!

And then along came #3A  Nausea marched in horns a-blaring, announcing that (s)he was here to stay.  Initially, after the miscarriage only months before, I was glad to see the nausea. It was my friend. It meant that there was actually still something there. But now…well, it’s really starting to get old! I can’t change a poopie diaper(or sometimes even a pee diaper!) without losing it. And trying to deal with the potty training?? I’d rather have my toenails ripped off slowly one by one than have to suffer through one more episode of “dump the poop in the pot from the now-stained underwear.” Poor Tucker has even gotten to the point where when he has an accident he asks, “Mommy, am I gonna make you frow up?” The child is never going to poop in the potty if he thinks I’m going to toss my cookies every time!

I’m pretty sure I reached rock bottom last week. Home alone with the kids, I thought to myself: “It might be a good idea to get ni the bathtub and relax, see if I can coax this nausea into hiding.” Oh, what a great idea it was in my head! The kids could watch TV while I left the door cracked just enough to see them from the tub. I could soak away all the aches and pains that come with constant vommiting. (Who knew you used so many muscles to throw up?) I could dip my head under the water to help relieve the tension of my now-ever-present headache. I could just do my pest to think about nothing. Nothing at all. My husband assures me that this is possible, although I’ve never actually achieved it myself! Enevitably, something always comes up. So today Em toddles into the bathroom and announces that she “tooted”. I can assure you that the girl did more than “toot”. But being the horrible(and, let me remind you, very sick at the moment) mommy that I am, I say, “Just go finish watching Wilbur, okay? Then I’ll help you.” Oh, but no. She’s persistant! I guess he had the right to be…what with poo smeared all over her butt. So she stayed in the bathroom and “chatted” with me like only a 2 year old can do.

Tucker all of a sudden realized that the book on Wilbur is no longer intriguing, and that he is missing all the fun in the bathroom. So he joins us, still in his pee-soaked overnight diaper. (See, I am a horrible parent!) 16 weeks ago I’d have never have left him sitting around in a diaper as disgusting as that! But pregnancy can change a girl!  So…he tells me that he needs to pee, and proceeds to pull the diaper off like underwear.

Now, for those of you who don’t have kids or who simply don’t ever leave your kid in a diaper for too long like I do, let me explain to you a little about diaper physics.  Inside diapers these days are these little moisture-absorbing crystals.  They’re tucked discreetly between the inner pee-catching layer and the outer pee-containing layer.  When these little suckers get wet, they swell up to something incredible like 500 times their original size.  That’s when normal parents notice that their child has a soggy bottom and, like a responsible non-vomiting adult change the diaper.  OH, but not me!  If you continue to push the absorption limit, you’ll eventually find that the diaper begins to desinigrate, leaving behind a urine-crystal covered kid.  It’s gross. Trust me.  But it’s even grosser to watch said diaper as it is rolled down the bony little legs of a 3 year old, pee-crystals flying this way and that.  I sat in the tub, watching them cascade dwon his leg and all over the bathroom floor like everything was in slow motion.  And as I tried to so hard to say “No”, I began to vomit mericlessly into my bathwater.  All over me…all in the tub…everywhere.  I started to cry, as did both of my now-completely-traumatized-and-destined-for-therapy children. 

And that’s when I realized that I truely had reached a low point in my life:  home alone with two scared and crying children, whom I can’t comfort because I’m soaking wet, completely naked, and covered in my own puke.  Welcome to mommyhood!

So…that’s my bad mommy moment of the month(hopefully it’s bad enough that we’ll be able to catch a break the next few months!)  Please don’t hate me, think I’m a truely terrible mom, leave mean comments or call DFCS.