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Twin Cursing Makes Me Nervous

January 16, 2010

It has been brought to my attention (thanks, Katie) that I have not posted in two months.  I think that is about right, as I am now…10+ weeks preggers with #3.  I know that I may be jinxing myself for putting it out on the web that I am with child, but since I am already sticking out of my pants and my boobs are popping out of all sides of my bra, there is not much denying it anymore.

So the past 2 months have been mostly wrought with fatigue, nausea, bitchiness, horribly disturbing dreams, moodiness, irrationality and cursing the damn skinny jeans I bought one week before I found out I was pregnant.  I am also living in fear that I am having twins.  There is no rational reason for this fear (see irrationality as a symptom of said pregnancy) other than that I already had a bump at 8 weeks, my friend says she is having twin dreams, my stepfather keeps wishing twins on me, and other people have seen me and have said something to the effect of “hmm, maybe you’re having twins.”  Oh, and my SIL had twins last year (along with a horrifying TTTS experience) and I have twin aunts.  And the nagging feeling that my pretty picture of 3 kids and NOT having to buy the freaken minivan everyone says I will need seems too gift-wrapped and perfectly bundled to come true.   And the idea of having 4 kids under the age of 4 scares the holy freaking crap out of me. Other than that, no rational reason for my fear.  Did I mention that I am sometimes a pessimist?

For the most part, I am starting to feel better (most days) as long as I stay away from things that smell like broccoli, feet, coffee or vino – mainly Tony (Bwahaha!).  And from people who tell me that I am going to have twins.

Posted in motherhood, pregnancy | 6 Comments »

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Baby, you can stay in there just a while longer

May 7, 2008

I am due in 4 days. That’s right, 4 days. I had Sacha at 37 weeks, so this is far longer than I have ever been pregnant, and I feel as though my skin just CANNOT stretch anymore. But it does. Every day I wake up, still pregnant, still having false labour, still waiting. Sacha brings me my tummy butter, reminding me that I AM still pregnant and that I’d better lather that stuff on if I want my skin to keep stretching without the stretch marks.

Still waiting

I look down at my tummy, and I feel as though it has its own gravitational force, as though it has its own mind and is clearly in charge, leading me forward like divining rods in search of ground water, only in my belly’s case, it is leading me to a place I both fear and long for.

I wake up each morning, trying to decide what to do with Sacha in case this is the last day that I am ONLY his mommy. We play at the park. We bake. We play outside in the yard. And he wants me to hold him and cuddle him most of the day. He cups my face in his hands and gives me warm kisses, then lifts up my shirt and kisses the baby, reminding me that Sacha has no idea how his life is going to change when he has to share his mommy, nor do I. And I grieve at what I will lose when that day comes.

Then, while Sacha sleeps, I peer at my tummy, wondering who this little person is, and eager to be his/her mommy, too: to hold a little baby in my arms again, to nurse again, to watch my little child grow and discover the world the way its big brother is doing, to fill my heart with imaginable love the way Sacha did when he was born. And I am overwhelmed with excitement for the day when I become a mother again.


I want to meet you, but if you want to take your time getting here, I will wait. Your brother needs me, too.

Posted in kids, motherhood, pregnancy | Tagged , | 17 Comments »

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I mega-loathe the doctor

March 27, 2008

Let me first clarify the title of this post: I do not mega-loathe my doctor specifically. In fact, he has always made himself very available to us as a family doctor, and he is a good physician.

I am at the stage of my pregnancy where I have to see him every farking week.  This is what I hate.  I cannot get a sitter for Sacha (insert long story here), so he has to tag along.  This is what loathe.  The habitual time spent in the doctor’s office each visit is 2 hours.  This is what I mega-loathe.

There are only so many things that I can do to entertain a toddler in a doctor’s office for 2 hours every week: I pack an entire backpack full of snacks, books, his favourite toys, sugar-type food things, and beyond.  You would think that this would work.  Well, not if you have a child who remembers all too well the pain of getting vaccines.  Sacha starts whimpering  as soon as we drive into the parking lot, then the full blown tears and screaming starts when we start taking off our coats and boots inside. (Yes, I did say boots.  We’ll have snow until July at this rate).  On a good day, it takes me about 30 minutes to calm him down.  Then, we’ll get called into one of the ROOMS OF TERROR examining rooms.  Insert more screaming, kicking, pulling on my arm, etc.

I hate it I hate it I hate it I hate it I hate it I hate it I hate it I hate it I hate it I hate it I hate it I hate it I hate it I hate it I hate it I hate it I hate it I hate it I hate it I hate it I hate it I hate it.

It’s reason enough for me to want this baby to come early.  Not that I really want that to happen, but at times, it seems the lesser of two evils.

Posted in health, irritants, kids, motherhood, parenting, pregnancy | 6 Comments »

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Stop saying that!

March 19, 2008

Sacha has learned some words in the past few weeks. He’s been saying Mama for a while, now, but add to the mix the following (bearing in mind that he speaks French):

  1. Caca – poop. As in he may have pooped, he is pooping, has has pooped, we need to change his diaper, Mr. Dash pooped, Mr. Dash’s litter box, Daddy.
  2. Dada – obvious, no?
  3. Papa – aka Dada
  4. Baba – aka Papa aka Dada. May also refer to play dough.
  5. Nanana – Pineapple (which, in French, is ananas). One of Sacha’s favourite fruits.

Let’s revisit #1 in a real-life context. I am 33 weeks along, and as everyone probably knows, I have wicked pregnancy gas. I wish I didn’t, but I do. I try to let them slip out quietly, but the odour usually gives me away. Picture it: I’m shopping with Sacha in a grocery store when I let one sneak out, all secret-agent style. I don’t say anything. I keep moving, going about my business. Sacha is too smart for me: he points at me and says “CACA!”

Obviously, I try to over it up by saying “Sacha a fait caca?” (Sacha went poop?), but he keeps wagging that little finger in my direction, laughing and spewing “CACA! CACA!”

Damn. I never thought I’d ever be that classy.

Posted in boys, kids, motherhood, pregnancy | 8 Comments »

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The mother of all crap birthdays

March 12, 2008

Things have gone from normal and mundane to crazy-psycho-hose-beast ridonkulous in the Mustard house, right around the time that I “celebrated” my 26th birthday. Let’s start things off on Saturday, 2 days before the birthday:

  1. I did not feel the baby move at all on Saturday, which is unusual, even for this mellow fetus, so I headed into the hospital for a non-stress test that evening. Everything is fine. The baby must have been taking an extra-long nap.
  2. Good old daylight savings time kicked us in the arse on Sunday, and we are still struggling to get Sacha used to it. And me. I cannot seem to adapt to the evenings yet. Is there such a thing as “daylight lag”?
  3. I celebrated my birthday on Monday. Well, I didn’t celebrate. Sacha woke me up from the sound of him gagging on phlegm and mucus. He was supposed to get his 18 month shots that day (killer birthday gift, I know you’re jealous), but by the time we got to the doctor, he was even more sick, and they wouldn’t give him the shots. They prescribed an antibiotic for his lungs and sent us home.
  4. That night, Sacha woke up at 9:00 pm with a fever (103 F), racing pulse (185 bpm) and rapid breathing. We brought him to the ER at 10:30 pm, where they did a chest x-ray and found that he has a touch of pneumonia in his lower left lung. He was prescribed a different antibiotic and we went home. Got home at 12:30 am, tried to sleep with him in our bed, but he woke up twice before 2:00. We shipped him to his crib, where he woke at 4:00 am from coughing and then woke again for the day at 7.
  5. He did not nap more than 30 minutes, despite having lost over 3 hours of sleep the night before. Day after my birthday sucketh just as much as birthday itself.
  6. We put our house on the market today, 2 days after my shitty birthday, as we are preparing to move across the country in July. Our first showing is tomorrow evening, right when Sacha should be heading to bed. That should be fun. Really. I mean that. If fun means sucketh a big goat testicle.
  7. Did I mention that Sacha hates his medicine? Wait, I don’t mean that. I should say he mega-loathes his medicine, meaning Col. Mustard and I have to wrestle it into him. Much screaming and kicking involved. From all three of us.

The only plus side to this wonderful series of unfortunate events: the Col. made me a black forest cake. From scratch. It was brilliant, despite the fact that he wouldn’t soak the cake in kirsch (like the recipe says) because of my knocked-up state. I mean, come on! 3 tbsp over an entire cake can’t be that bad, right??

Ooh, black forest cake from scratch...

Posted in Food, blah, family, irritants, kids, parenting, pregnancy | 11 Comments »

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Caution: Wii Pregnant

February 24, 2008

We be Wiiing.

Despite the ridiculous difficulty in obtaining a Wii in most of Canada (anywhere you look, they’re back-ordered or out-of-stock), we got one.  Last weekend.  It was a great weekend.  I whooped Col. Mustard’s ass at everything, despite my being huge with baby.

I thought this weekend would be an easy victory.  HA!  Turns out the Col. has been practicing.  A lot.  Especially at tennis, which I have actually played in real life, while he has not.   I don’t know how many best-of-fives we played last night, but they all ended after 3 matches, and never in my favour.  He can hit those balls and make them go so fast, while mine just lob over the net with a nice pregnant arc.

The Col. decided to run on the elliptical after trouncing me at tennis, but I wanted to redeem myself at something, anything.  So I decided to take up a new sport: bowling. Nice low impact, not really cardio, I thought it would be great.  And it was. I am the MASTA of bowling.  I played until I racked up my skill level to 784.  Then I noticed that my butt really hurt.  I was using muscles I didn’t know I had anymore, so I decided to call it a night.

My ass thought otherwise.

My ass and lower back ached so much that I couldn’t sleep for most of the night, on top of the regular night-time wakefulness a pregnant women suffers in her third trimester. Luckily for me, the Col. woke up with Sacha and took him to church while I tried to sleep in.

They just got back from church.  Turns out there was a pancake buffet breakfast.  I ate Cheerios at home.  Serves my heathen-wiiing-ass right, I guess.

——-

I welcome any tips on how to play Wii tennis and spike those balls so I can beat my husband,  whose advantage seems to lie in the fact that he is so clearly accustomed to playing with his.

Posted in fun, husband, pregnancy | 15 Comments »

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No title – just complaints

February 13, 2008

Sacha is in a mood today.  Oy vey.  This doesn’t happen too often, but when it does, it always puts me on edge, making me dwell on the insignificant and usually benign irritants in my life.

  1. I can’t get Sacha to give up his soother.  A few weeks ago, we took it away during the day with great success.  About 5 days later, he got a really bad cold and we gave it back to him.  Now, if he doesn’t have his soother in his mouth, he walks around with his hand on his mouth in wonderment of his precious’ whereabouts. Yesterday, it got so bad that he started dumping all the laundry hampers and taking the couch cushions off trying desperately to score some soother, screaming the entire time.  I decided to go “find” one (in my dresser) and gave it to him.  I couldn’t take it anymore.
  2. I am tired of the constant back ache with this pregnancy.  Ugh.  Cannot get comfortable sitting, standing, lying, period.  Let alone trying to put out for the Col.
  3. I wish Sacha would never have learned to scream when he has his little fits. It is seriously the most obnoxious thing I’ve ever heard.  Well, aside from Col. Mustard’s musical tastes.  But that’s a whole other story.
  4. I wish Sacha would let me leave him with a sitter.  Alas, he screams and cries the entire time I am gone.  It would be nice to be able to go and get a haircut once in a while and not be destined to look like a cherry-picker all the time.
  5. This baby is giving me the worst heartburn I’ve ever had.  Mostly from my favourite comfort foods, like pasta, pizza, meat, those types of things. I’ve had to resort to buying extra-mild salsa.  Extra-mild!  I am so ashamed.
  6. I really miss Starbucks, and I just can’t bring myself to drive 3 hours one-way just to go have have a yummy beverage.
  7. Tax time licks goat testicles, especially when one cannot look forward to receiving a refund because one has no income.
  8. I’m tired of this shit-hole town.  I cannot wait to move our asses out of here, even if it costs us a small fortune.  If it means only one kid can go to college, so be it.
  9. I’m tired of wearing glasses.  They totally throw off my groove.  Oh wait, my hair already does that.  And my big tummy.  Nevermind.
  10. I’m tired of hearing about Britney Spears.  Can we not all agree that she’s gone psycho-hose beast and get back to some real news reporting?  Like whatever happened to Chunk from the Goonies?

Posted in irritants, pregnancy, random | 9 Comments »

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