Birth Plan for The Boy

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If babies were known to arrive on their due date then I have twenty-nine days to go until protégé number two arrives. We still don’t have a name for him. Well, we did have one but because neither of us were completely in love with the name we’re reexamining the name list…again. I do however have a birth plan. It’s a little more relaxed than the one I had with Sophia though some parts of it are exactly the same. With the second child, I realize how silly it is to orchestrate a “birth experience”, not that my first birth plan was that crazy. I’ve seen worse…like my first draft, which was cobbled together from template birth plans of a bunch of home birth sites.

The Birth Plan

ATTENDANTS
I only want the required doctors, nurses, and Kurt in the room. I didn’t have an audience while conceiving the child and I certainly don’t want that many witnesses to Kurt’s execution when I’m pushing out baby melon-head.

LABOR

  • I wish to be able to move around and change position at will throughout labor
  • I do not want time limits on laboring and prefer labor not to be augmented unless medically necessary
  • I’d like a nurse to support my legs when I push
  • I’d like to be able to try any position comfortable during pushing
  • Please do not hand the baby to me until he’s been cleaned up / wrapped in a blanket

ANESTHESIA – PAIN MEDICATION

  • Forget the “natural” childbirth mantra – pretending as if pain is something beautiful and worth treasuring isn’t for me. I really don’t foresee any regrets in not experiencing pain in it’s full on glory. Keep the pain; I’ll just take the baby. If it were the early 1800′s I would be screaming for my laudanum. I don’t want to feel a thing! I want an epidural! I’d like to wait until dilated to 6 centimeters.

EPISIOTOMY

  • I would rather risk some tearing than to have an episiotomy

CAESAREAN SECTION

  • I am deathly afraid of any sort of surgery. If it becomes necessary just let Kurt know and then knock me out completely and without my knowledge. Seriously, my blood pressure goes through the roof just thinking about it.

IMMEDIATELY AFTER DELIVERY

  • Kurt does not want to catch the baby, cut the cord, play with the placenta, or anything else that may involve blood, guts, gore (what the crap is that white stuff that comes out anyway?), and other such squishy things. – Please don’t even ask him unless you’re prepared to catch a fainting 6’ 4” man.
  • I would like the baby evaluation done in my presence.

POSTPARTUM

  • I would like to have the baby near me at all times.
  • If it’s possible, I would like to donate the baby’s umbilical cord blood.
  • I would prefer to breastfeed exclusively and I would like to feed by his needs/demand. If for some odd reason I am unable to breastfeed – plain water and/or formula are ok.

CIRCUMCISION
We’ve been informed that I’m delivering a boy so I’m including a no snip clause. Please keep him the way he came out unless there is some deformity that will cause pain / medical problems later on.

November, 30 posts in 30 days nablopomo.com

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Fear of Pumpkin Waffle Change

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A few months ago I came across a carrot pancake recipe from Weelicious. I didn’t use her exact recipe. Actually, I didn’t use her recipe at all. I used my own pancake recipe and just added the nuts, carrots, and cinnamon from hers. Well, I guess I didn’t warn Kurt that I was going to make that change because when he saw the carrot in his pancakes he started to say something about it. With eyes wide open I stared at him from the kitchen and then looked in Sophia’s direction to indicate I was trying to pull a fast one on the child. Gee I wonder where she gets her lack of food adventure.

Sophia did notice the shredded carrot but she must have eaten enough of it to realize that it wasn’t all evil. She didn’t try to pick out the carrot or eat around it like she does when I make blueberry pancakes, which is good because I put so much in there either task would be quite an undertaking. They have both has since eaten carrot pancakes several times and both are doing well.

More recently, I wanted a recipe that would use up leftover pumpkin puree, so I went into the Weelicious archives and found Pumpkin Waffles. This time I warned Kurt about the extreme act of deception I was about to orchestrate for the mornings breakfast. You should have seen the look of horror on his face. “Pumpkin puree in the waffle iron, won’t that ruin it?” He actually asked with a straight face.

Sometimes I wonder if my life would be easier if perhaps his degree were in chemistry and not engineering. Maybe I should look and see if Atlon Brown has a recipe for pumpkin waffles so that I can show the video to Kurt. Does Alton have any upcoming lectures on the science of how squishy fruits and veggies can be mixed in with bread recipes and it still turns out bready because you simply use less water, milk, or oil? Ruin the waffle iron, really? It’s not like I was just going to smear straight up pumpkin puree on it and call it a waffle.

By the way like all other recipes I find I never make them exactly the same. I always have to tweak something, so here are the changes I made to the Weelicious pumpkin waffle recipe ingredient list…

1 1/3 + ½ Cups All-Purpose Flour
2/3 Cup Whole Wheat Flour
1/3 Cup Light Brown Sugar
2 ½ tsp Baking Powder
1 tsp Baking Soda
½ tsp Salt
2 tsp Ground Cinnamon
½ tsp Ground Ginger
4 Eggs
1 Cup Milk (I used 2% milk)
1 Cup Buttermilk (I used low fat)
1 Cup Pumpkin Puree

I read somewhere that with most if not all quick bread (any bread not using yeast to rise) recipes 1/3 of the all-purpose flour can be substituted with whole-wheat flour. I only used half the amount of ginger, I used 2% milk (not rice “milk”), and I completely omitted the SIX tablespoons of butter. I didn’t even make a substitution and it turned out better than just fine.

November, 30 posts in 30 days nablopomo.com

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Chainsaw Massacre versus Fairy Princess

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Two weeks before Halloween, we went to the Halloween store trying to get costume ideas. Sophia was completely enthralled in the mechanical scary things. They had a mechanical Freddy Krueger, Pin Head, and some other character. All three were behind cages and rigged with a button to push in order to set them off. Sophia cycled between the three characters pushing the buttons for at least an hour. She seemed intrigued, almost as if she were analyzing their mechanical and electrical workings. It made me smile. That’s my girl!

At some point a woman in her mid-twenties passed by the same characters right in front of Sophia and told her companion that those mechanical dolls my three year old was watching with curiosity scared her. *blink* *blink* Really? It’s broad daylight.

A week later, we went to the costume store, again to seek ideas. Kurt pulled out a Super Girl costume and Sophia seemed interested in it. It was one costume where no headgear was required and it wasn’t some bulky suit that was so clearly not like clothing, so it could have worked for her. Unfortunately, we couldn’t find it in Sophia’s size.

Sophia wandered off to another isle where they had a mechanical guy raising up from the dead up on the top shelf. I don’t know if it was Sophia or Kurt that found the toy on the bottom shelf behind their viewing point of dude raising from the dead, but either way I was quickly summoned by Kurt to see my daughter just melt my heart. I rounded the corner to see Sophia wilding a battery operated chainsaw complete with fake blood splatter and laughing maniacally. Kurt grabbed another chainsaw and the two of them had a chainsaw sword fight in the isle as passersby laughed at the idea of such a cute little girl being a chainsaw murderer. Now THAT is my girl! Brings a tear to the eye. *sniff*

That is how we got out costume ideas. Kurt decided to be Jason wielding an axe, I was either going to be a victim covered in blood or a crazed pregnant lady covered in blood wielding a butcher knife, and Sophia would wear last year’s Wednesday Addams outfit and carry the chainsaw.

The next day we all went grocery shopping and the lady at checkout asked Sophia what she was going to be for Halloween. Kurt piped up and told her Sophia was going to be a chainsaw murderer. The lady laughed and then asked Sophia, “Are you going to be a fairy princess?” Sophia gave her a look of, “are you kidding me?” Oh she is so my girl.

Halloween didn’t work out quite as planned. Sophia wore her Old Navy Linus shirt with the Great Pumpkin on it, had her blanket and of course sucked her thumb. She didn’t want anything to do with trick or treating. Kurt and I still had fun visiting with friends and watching their kids run amuck gathering candy from strangers. At one point our friends’ daughter who is the same age as Sophia adopted Kurt and had him lead her around for trick or treating. It was adorable to watch.

November, 30 posts in 30 days nablopomo.com

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Wading through the deep end seemingly alone

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The day didn’t start well, but that’s not always the end all indicator of things to come. I’m on my toes and walking on egg shells almost all the time. Will this set her off? Will that?

Last week Sophia started swimming class at the preschooler level. She did really well especially considering she hasn’t ever met this particular instructor. She made Kurt hang out at the edge of the pool for the first half of the session, but then he left and sat by me on the bench closest to her. Sophia actually participated a little. She even let the teacher take her and swim around a little. Sophia seemed a little confused about the teacher being in charge and not me telling her what to do next. After each little song or activity Sophia would climb out of the pool and coming up to us for reassurance. We had to keep telling her to go listen to the teacher so she would know what was coming next, but I was happy. I think she took to the change very well.

It wasn’t the same yesterday. She didn’t want to get her swimsuit on before leaving for class. She didn’t want to get dressed, eat, put her shoes on, or get in the car. Each step was another struggle. We frequently have these mornings and there is always a chance the testy beginning won’t continue throughout the day. This was not one of those lucky days.

Once we arrived at the pool Sophia happily took off her clothes and waited for class to start, but then she didn’t want to go in the pool. Kurt and I had agreed the night before that after her swimming class we would go to IHOP as we did the week before, so I told Sophia, “If you get in and swim with the teacher you can have chocolate milk.”

“Choket miwk.” She said with a huge smile on her face. She turned and practically ran to the pool, but then stopped abruptly. Kurt finally somehow coxed her into the pool and then we again had the chore of trying to get her to stay there with the teacher. Each time it was her turn to kick around the pool the teacher would extend the offer and Sophia would refuse and climb out again. It was getting close to the end of class and Kurt asked the instructor to take Sophia for a short swim on her turn instead of waiting for her to warm up. That did not go well. She began crying and immediately climbed out of the pool.

We went to her and told her how great she did swimming with the teacher but she continued crying as if we weren’t even there. It’s all very normal for her to cry as if she’s in a whole other world apart from the rest of us. She doesn’t seek comfort from us at all when she’s in this state. All we can do is wait for it to be over.

We went to IHOP and Sophia not only got her chocolate milk but a large size one just like mom’s. Last week it took a lot of convincing that there was actually chocolate milk in the kid cup just like in mom’s glass, so we thought it would be easier if we just ordered the same thing for both of us. As usual, we were wrong. Nothing goes over smoothly not even treats. It’s really irritating and exhausting. Sophia began waving her hands and saying, “All done. Ready go now.”

After a while she calmed down and just sat there. Our food arrived; we offered her pancakes anything we knew she would eat. She didn’t want any of it. She mumbled something that we just couldn’t decode and as usual the harder we tried the more upset she became. I heard the word “wed” meaning “red” in one of her responses and thought maybe she was referring to the red crayon she was given with the kids coloring placemat. That wasn’t it. I followed her eyes and looked across the table from her at the only other red item. The ketchup, the condiments. You’ve got to be kidding me! Every single time we go out to eat she wants to arrange the condiments on the table, but she couldn’t reach them this time. I placed the ketchup, bowl of sugar packets, and the salt and pepper shakers in front of her. She arranged them all along with her crayons and folded place mat in her own specific order in front of her and then she could drink her chocolate milk. The chocolate milk meant as a fun and special treat.

Kurt and I exchanged looks and I just wanted to cry. I think I was perpetually holding back tears all day. You can’t tell me this is normal behavior for a three year old. I know everyone is different. Don’t fucking tell me we’re all different. I’m fine with different and even difficult. I don’t even mind a challenge but jesusfuckingchritalready this is so far beyond that. I’m perpetually on eggshells! I’ve only given a tiny appetizer of her quirks.

I have no worries that when she grows up she’ll be able to find a significant other that will love her quirks and all. She’ll have kids if she wants and if she chooses, a fantastic career in some heavily mathematical, science, engineering, or computer programming type field. But right now she’s driving me absolutely crazy!

chocolate milk at IHOP

Picture take 10/20/2010.

November, 30 posts in 30 days nablopomo.com

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Sometimes Slow to Process

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I don’t remember when I started making my own sauces from scratch but I know it’s been over a year. After making a few batches of enchilada sauce and mole negro with a blender I finally figured out why so many people keep a blender and a food processor in their kitchen. Not that I know a lot of people making their own sauces from scratch but in doing so myself I figured out each machine has its strengths and weaknesses.

So I set out to find a good food processor. Once I found on that I liked I could have simply bought it. It wasn’t a budget crasher for us, but instead I simply added it to my Amazon universal Christmas wish list. I never received it, and I never bothered to buy it myself. I simply dealt with the blender. Now the model I chose a year ago isn’t sold at the store I found it in anymore, so a week ago I found another one I liked at Costco (Cuisinart® PowerPrep Plus® 14 Cup Food Processor) and pointed out to Kurt how useful it would be to have it. This one has a much higher capacity, which is an important factor for me since I make my sauces in large batches and freeze them in dinner size portions. He made the joke that he just bought me a house so I get nothing this year. I should really consider having him sign something after each time he makes statements like that. It’ll make for a much smoother divorce. The new house is so mine!

Yesterday I carved up the pumpkin that Sophia and I picked out last week at a playgroup field trip to the pumpkin patch. It was specifically selected as a pie pumpkin, so I cut it into sections, put it in the oven, and scooped out the pulp. Knowing that my blender would not function properly for the task of turning pulp into puree I then went through the arduous process of pressing it through a strainer. It took forever. I did most of it before Kurt came home but kept taking breaks to do laundry. When Kurt came home from work and saw my pumpkin puree process he said, “You know, I think that’s what people use food processors for.” He’s a genius.

“You know, if I had a food processor I would use it.”

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Boob fun for everyone

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It may have been because Sophia was approaching the age in which kids begin to notice or point out differences in the bodies of boys and girls or the difference between themselves and mom and/or dad. If that’s the case it also happened to coincide with the part of my first trimester in which I actually have boobs and they temporarily stick out further than my belly. Sophia was obsessed with them. Ok, not really obsessed, but anytime she saw me come out of the shower she had to poke at them. “That’s mom’s boob.” I would tell her, or “boobs”, if she happened to point or poke at both.

One day as I showered with the bathroom door open I heard her and peeked around the curtain. “boobies, boobies, boobies!” She shouted as she ran circles up and around the bed carrying my bra. Lovely.
She also began trying to pull down my shirt, apparently to see if they were still there. I later learned that she was doing this to the neighbor who watches her for a few hours once a week. Once I was privy to that info I began telling Sophia not to push or poke mom’s boobs because they belong to mom.

A few days ago, Sophia was begging Kurt for, “ah jump da bed”. She likes to stand on the foot-board of our bed while one of us stands on the floor on the other side with our hands placed on the foot-board on either side of her. Sophia will push off our shoulders to land flat on her back on the bed or she’ll have us lightly push her. This particular time she wanted Kurt to push her, so he did. She then tells him, “No push bobbies!” Kurt was shocked and could not stop laughing. Boy is she going to be a disappointed teen when she discovers that she mostly likely has my boobless-except-during-pregnancy-or-breastfeeding genes.

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California Detangling Baby Fine Hair

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Sophia used to love having her hair brushed and on our trip to Hawaii she even started letting us put her hair up in ponytails. I don’t remember when she stopped, but she did. We weren’t even able to comb it for months. I kept the snags out by making sure we washed her hair so that things like oatmeal and pancake syrup didn’t accumulate, but then we noticed huge snarls of hair forming near her ears. It began to look like an 80’s doo got completely awry. It started to become embarrassing to take her to the park with the dog-ear like tufts that poked out from otherwise healthy hair. She began to look as if her parents didn’t take care of her and the fact that she insists on picking her own mismatched clothes wasn’t helping at all.

I asked a few friends to recommend a good detangler for fine hair as was about to seek out one of their recommendations when I saw that my favorite brand of kid hair products had an option of their own. My order arrived in the mail and I set up my hair detangling shop right then. I told Sophia that this stuff would make it so that it didn’t hurt to brush her hair and surprisingly she complied and allowed me to begin working on those tufts of hair. I sprayed a lot of the detangler in her hair and started the very slow process. Each time a tugged on her even a little, Sophia would grab the bottle sitting beside me, hand it to me, and then point to where it needed to be applied. We used half a bottle of California Baby hair detangler on the child, but as soon as we were able to smooth out one side the tuft would be back again in days.

The detangler didn’t work with the ease that I expected, and I faulted it for not smoothing out her hair enough to keep the snarls from forming again and so quickly. Remembering my grandmother saving my hair from clippers by combing out tree sap with peanut butter, I gave that a try. It was a no go, and if we couldn’t get the snags out and keep them out we were going to have to trim her long locks…crew-cut style right before her birthday.

Kurt kept insisting that the quick return of the hair tufts must be from maple syrup and that we need to force her to tie her hair back before she eats pancakes, but that couldn’t be it. I finally figured out the cause of the snarls after vacuuming her room one day. Because she likes to sleep on the floor by her bedroom door, she was getting her hair caught in the spring like doorstop. There was the lock of hair wound up in the spring proving my case.

We’ve since taped up the doorstop and started using California Baby conditioner to comb though the snarls. I didn’t realize that their conditioner was a leave-in or washout type and it works like a charm as a detangler. I have become a hair detangler pro and Sophia now comes to us to have her hair brushed almost nightly. Of course, now she also insists that we use a lot of “shampoo” in her hair while we comb through it.

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More than a Fair Day

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Over the weekend of amazement we went to the state fair. We saw the pony ride and knowing that she probably wouldn’t go for it I asked Sophia if she wanted to ride on the ponies. She shook her head as I knew she would and we just stood there and watched for a little while. I was admittedly disappointed though not at all surprised. In another area they had a cute “Farmer for a Day” area for the little kids right before the petting area. The activity they had set up was right up Sophia’s OCD-putting-things-into-containers alley but because we were in public, there were no guarantees that she would take to it. It took a little encouragement, but not much.

The first part was to pick out a basket, take it to the hen house and pick an egg, then to the apple tree for an apple, and finally to the sandbox to dig up a potato. There was also a cow milking area where she waited her turn for a while, but ultimately she skipped that. Once the little basket was full, it was time to take it to market and separate her things into the market’s baskets. She then received a stamp on her hand with the animal and color of her choosing. She picked an orange horse.

Picking an apple from the treeWaiting her turn at the milking stationDigging up a potatoPicking up her potatoPotatoAt the Grocer

Directly after that area there was the entrance to the petting area. She showed interest in the animals but didn’t want to touch them at first. She began to take my hand but then switched and chose Kurt to lead around the pen of baby farm animals.

Lately she’s been a little Nazi with her demands for which parent she wants to do whatever task for her like reading her bedtime story. “Momma’s turn, “she’ll say. We accommodate sometimes, but if it was predetermined by the parental units that momma has the night off then it’s tough shit. On this occasion it was, “Daddy’s turn”, which I just thought was great. Kurt later decided that the child figured if anyone could protect her from a rouge baby goat it would be daddy. If that’s the case she would be quite shocked as to what the otherwise animal loving “momma bear” can and would do if her young were attacked. I’m just sayin’.

Controlling little Nazi child took her dad’s arm in both her hands and used it to pet the goats until she was comfortable doing so herself. She also pet the calf, but the chickens and pigs she only looked at.

Once we done with the petting area we went out to wash our hands and then retrieve the stroller, which was waiting for us at the entrance of the “Farmer for a Day” area. Upon seeing the baskets, OCD child had to go through the maze again. I had to go to the bathroom, so Kurt wound up going through there with Sophia another seven times. On their way out Sophia spotted something through another vendor and indicated she wanted to go there. I’m not sure if she said anything since I was still waiting in line for the ladies room, but I know she wouldn’t have had a word for what she wanted other than maybe horse. She wanted to ride the carousel. Kurt was shocked and when I found out, I was stunned. Kurt bought the tickets and Sophia kept pointing at the horses she wanted no ride. Wow, she really wants to do this. On the horse she was so happy, she sat waiting for the ride to begin and pointed to her horse smiling. Kurt’s horse was much smaller, and it made his 6’ 4” figure look hilarious. The carousel began to turn and each time around Kurt pointed me out to Sophia who flashed huge smiles at me. The biggest smiles I received were when the camera was down but I still got a good shot. Unlike her camp photo, no tickling was required for these. I cannot tell you how happy it made us for her to have a normal kid reaction to normal kid fun. There are just no words to express it.

Waiting for the carousel to startbear on a tricyclenormal kid reaction to normal kid fun

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Captain Literal Laundry Basket

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On laundry days, Sophia loved to steal the smallest of my three baskets, the one I use to haul clothes up and down the stairs. This basket allows her to partake in her all-time favorite activity, putting things into containers. Sometimes she really loads up, taking toys off her shelves to put in the basket, and other times she only stows the favorites, Bear, Moose, and “Friend”. After an incident of stair tumbling I’ve since taught her to ask for help in hauling her basket of loot down the stairs. Sometimes she still thinks she can do it on her own, but generally, she’s pretty good about the rule.

I was sleeping in on one recent weekend day. Moose, Bear, and “Friend” were loaded into the basket and Sophia had indicated that she wanted the load to go downstairs. “Do you need help taking that down stairs?” Kurt asked, “Ok, hand me the basket.” Sophia then proceeded to take Moose, Bear, and “Friend” out of the basket and hand The Basket to Kurt. She then carries the three favored toys down the stairs herself. Kurt tossed the basket back up the half flight of stairs and Sophia gave him a look of, “Why the hell did you ask me for the basket if you didn’t want it?”

Kurt believes her literal interpretation of things is a sign we have a lawyer in the making.

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Camp Is So Great, They Give Us Chocolate Cake!

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The last day of camp I managed to convince Sophia to leave “friend” in the car, but again when I had to put her down to sign her into camp she began crying. Today her buddy didn’t even try to have me put the camp shirt on Sophia. She does eventually wear the shirt each day, but only after I’m long gone.

The snack for this day is about as unimpressive as the Nilla Wafer mini-burger day. The kids will be making their own chocolate cup cake. On the healthy side, there will also be a yogurt shake with bananas and strawberries. Sophia loves yogurt and bananas, but she does not recognize it in a liquid shake form and therefore won’t eat it.

Friday:
Today…
I made a…Picture Frame
I ate a… Cupcake (What a shock, really? She ate sugar? And the healthy part, the shake? She didn’t even touch it.)
I liked…Playground

My day was… (in this part of the form the buddy circles one of three choices: fabulous, good, ok) Sophia’s buddy circled fabulous.

Under comments she wrote, “I’m going to miss seeing Sophia every day! Camp was so much fun! Her giggle and smile make me smile! Have a great rest of summer!”

Camp photo and the frame Sophia made

Sophia had the same buddy each day of camp, it’s part of what makes this camp special. The buddies are high school students who volunteer and are teamed up with one child for the week. In general, that one on one interaction is supposed to help the kids boost their skills because it’s all about catering to the child, but not in the same ways that mom and dad might. Other moms who bring their kids to Sophia’s playgroup that had already sent their kids to camp in previous weeks talked about how much their kid loved their buddy. One mom said that her son, who is two months older than Sophia, takes the camp picture and sleeps with it at night. Except for the one Occupational Therapist that Sophia sees weekly at one of her classes, she seems rather indifferent to the various staff members and her buddy.

I have the pictures and frame from camp up on the mantel. I brought them down so that I could take a picture of it for this post. Sophia was interested in the frame, but only because she wanted to take the stickers back off it. “Do you remember your buddy from camp?” I ask. No answer. “Did you like your buddy?” No answer. “Did you have fun with your buddy at camp?” Nothing.

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