Gratitude

I had a sick day again yesterday. This time it wasn't me; the baby is sick. She was fine on Monday, slightly congested Monday night, then when I woke her up yesterday morning her nose was all crusted over and her poor little eye was matted shut! I used a warm washcloth to free her face while I called the pediatrician's nurse, who wanted her seen right away. Turns out she has infection in both ears and her eye. But we caught it before it got TOO terribly bad. Anyway, yesterday was spent as it should be: snuggled up on the couch with my babygirl. Older babygirl was at her grandparents' house but we exchanged phone calls/texts all day. She knew Sophie was sick first thing, since she called me as I was getting my phone to call the nurse, and wanted me to call her right away after the visit. "I want to know EVERY detail." Such a caring big sister! She even offered to cut her visit short and come home early - even though beloved Aunt Shirley flew in yesterday. I love my girls.

I used a quiet opportunity yesterday to make another entry in my gratitude journal. I discovered something awful, though - it won't save if I list more than five things! So I had to cut a few lines from the list. I believe that it still needs to get "out there" somehow, so here is my full list from yesterday:

* Understanding boss
* Great healthcare providers
* Health insurance (picked up 4 prescriptions yesterday. Total cost: $0)
* Medicine to heal my babygirl
* She likes her antibiotic!! No struggles to get the medicine down her throat
* Happy babies (no crankiness or fussiness all day)
* It wasn't quite as hot yesterday.
* Fans - one fan kept our house 9 degrees cooler all day yesterday.
* Caring older daughter
* Diaper Genie (you really don't want to know the details there...)

And of course, as usual, my husband, my daughters, my family, my friends. I don't know how I would get through this life without them.

What's cooking?

So I decided to make Sophie's baby food instead of buying it. Not only is it healthier, it's a lot cheaper, too! I did get discouraged in the beginning because I couldn't get my baby food maker to work properly and bought a couple packages of Gerber, but after some time to calm down, an email and a phone call to customer service, I am cooking up a storm!

A couple months ago I got the First Years' BabyPro All-in-one baby food maker. It is a little unit with a steamer and food processor. It is not very big, and doesn't take up much counter space. Since I do not have a real food processor, don't know where to get one or what in the world I'd do with it other than make baby food, and have no idea how to steam foods on the stove, I figured it was a sound investment. And we have a small kitchen - the size and having everything in one unit was a huge plus.

I started out with squash. The babysitter has a garden and had given me four HUGE yellow squash. Huge is more of an understatement - these things were monsters. I cut up part of one for the steamer, cooked the rest for our dinner, and had leftovers. Then apples, avocado (not steamed), and peaches. I made cherries and banana next. Today I went grocery shopping and picked up frozen peas, and fresh pears, plums, sweet potatoes, and butternut squash. This baby will be eating good the next few months!

My husband seems a bit surprised by all this. He is fully behind it, but can't figure out where the food-processing bug came from. Honestly, I don't either. I am NOT this domesticated. I cook from mixes, not from scratch. I much prefer the fast, easy way to cook. But I just can't make myself buy all this jarred babyfood!

At least I know without a doubt what will be going in her little stomach. And we won't have to worry about any recalls, either.

So hard to say goodbye

So my goal of writing every day has already hit a snag! I DID remember, but it was after midnight and I knew if I turned on my computer it wouldn't be just to write something. The allure of the internet is just too strong!

In my defense, yesterday was a REALLY bad day. My 12 yr old has been sick since Thursday, the baby had a fever off and on over the weekend, and I woke up on Sunday sick also. Yesterday felt worse. Also, I had a feeling my cat was getting another UTI since I found dark brown pee from her on Sunday and sure enough, when we got up yesterday morning she was sick also. So I took a sick day so Em and I could recover and I could take the cat to the vet for some antibiotics.

When we got there, the diagnosis wasn't what I had expected at all. It was not a UTI but a recurring infection (she had it in January also but made a full recovery). Her little body would attack its own red blood cells suddenly (that was the dark brown urine) and this time she just couldn't fight it off. The only treatment was a blood transfusion, but that itself would probably have been too much stress on her sick little body. I called my husband to discuss it with him, when suddenly the vet said "I need a decision NOW because she's dying on the table." So after 13 years of life, my poor kitty left us. It was so hard on us all. She and her sister were our "practice babies." We got them as 6 month old kittens when we were pregnant with Emma. These two animals have trained us well. Sure, we gave Ocoee the nickname "Pita" (Pain in the a**) but loved her dearly. She loved nothing more than to get in a lap and be the center of attention.

Chris came home from work early and buried her. I picked out a spot under the dogwood tree at the edge of our yard. The vet's office did provide a burial box for her, which was very nice. Her sister Charla seems to know something is different - she has been very clingy since we got home yesterday morning.

So that's why I didn't write anything yesterday. I was sick and heartbroken. That's also all I can write about it today because if I don't stop now, I'll start crying again and I'm back at work today. Can't have that. It was hard enough finding her fur all over one of my bags. She had slept on it most of Saturday when she wasn't trying to steal my seat at the dinner table or stealing the bacon left unattened for a few minutes.

I'm going to miss that little bugger...

Mamas, I need your help!

I realized I am guilty of doing something I have always been opposed to doing.

I don't know how to change.

I had this realization when I was browsing a local website for moms, www.knoxmoms.com (BTW if you live in Knoxville area and have kids, check out this site. Bookmark it. Seriously.) Anyway, there is a group titled KnoxMoms for Comprehensive Sexual Education. My first thought is "Excellent!" I really think kids should be taught about sex - their body parts, what they do, how to protect themselves, and how to communicate about their feeling. I really do!

However - ask me how many times I've discussed this with my own 12 year old daughter. Or better yet, don't ask me! I can't answer that! When she was 8, she asked me what a period was and I gave her a basic, bare-bones discussion of what happens, reproduction-wise, but no real details. With my pregnancy, she learned all about baby developement and how babies are actually born. She has had a class at school, but I don't even know what was covered! She says the teacher never actually got around to the "sex" part of the sex-education class. I dont' even know for sure how much she actually knows!

This is not healthy at all. I was (intentionally or not) raised thinking sex was bad, not discussed at all, forbidden. When my mom tried to have "the talk" with me I was so freaked out I wouldn't let her speak. I still can't discuss things like that with her! I'm married with two kids so obviously she's aware I'm not a virgin, but I still can't have that conversation. When I think of having a similar discussion with Emma, I have the same awkward freak-out in my head and just put it off again. I just can't get the words out!

On one hand, I am afraid of "spoiling her innocence" - exposing her to this foreign, scary world that she doesn't need to think about at her age. On the other hand, I am well aware of what other kids her age are doing and think she probably knows some of it already. Is some misinformation? Probably. But I'm too afraid to broach the subject with her to find out.

How do I get over this?

House and home

(I am trying to get back in the habit of blogging regularly again. I have really slacked off since Sophie was born! I guess that is a good reason, but still... For me, the writing habit is of the "use it or lose it" variety. I apologize in advance if I am a bit random or rambling.)

Today is cleaning day. My first couple weeks back at work I was really good about keeping the house picked up and laundry kept up. That, unfortunately, didn't last long. So, today is cleaning day. I am really trying to stick to one room at a time but I keep getting so distracted! I have a ring sling, though, that helps me get more done when Sophie is awake and wanting Mommy instead of Daddy or big sister.

Thursday, we had a new roof put on our house. The week before I went back to work, Emma was on Spring Break and showed me some spots on her ceiling. Yep, water damage. We could have just had the spots repaired, but in a couple years would need a new roof entirely, so we just had that done all at once.

Not only was the roof old and deteriorating, our gutters were in horrid condition! Neither the roof nor the gutters were built properly when the house was built, so we are dealing with that damage now. Today we are getting all new gutters and soffit. We are also getting a leaf guard put in, so no more climbing to the roof to clean out the gutters.

It is so nice to have repairs done to the house. I have not been feeling the love for it lately. I joke about wanting the contractor from Holmes on Homes to visit, but really would prefer Extreme Makeover Home Edition. Eleven years in, we are finding out just how poorly our house was built 32 years ago, and it is wearing on the soul, that's for sure. I know "home" is what you make it, but when our house seems to be revolting against us... the home feeling just isn't as strong. We are slowly but surely getting the repairs done, and I hope soon we can work on improvements.

In the meantime, while the workers are working on the outside of the house, I'll work on the inside, making it once again "home."

No more...

Two weeks ago, I had a procedure done that has made me sterile. Same principle as having my tubes tied, but non-invasive and not painful. It was a simple, quick, and easy procedure. (I even got to watch the screen along with the doctor!) This is definitely what I wanted, and I have no second thoughts or regrets.

However, for some reason I am a little sad. Sophie is the last baby in the house. There is no reason to hang on to her adorable little outfits once she outgrows them. The heirloom baby cradle will never be used by our little family unit again, until Emma is grown and has a little one of her own.

And for the life of me, I don't know why this makes me sad! I truly do not want to have more children. I am happy with our family the way it is. And honestly, financially and spatially we can't have another. We can't afford for me not to work, and childcare for three, one after school and two full-time, would be impossible. We'd need a larger house if we had another, also. Bigger house = bigger mortgage. Again, not possible.

Is this some innate biological feeling? Some ancient instinct saying "females must be able to produce!"?? A biological clock I never knew I had?? I mean, logically and rationally (and even 95% emotionally) I know without a doubt this was the right direction. But that tiny, hidden part of me thinks "what have I done?"

Who is your daughter's role model?

Ok, our family has four shows we watch together, as a family, and never miss (thank goodness for DVR). Bones, House, Chuck, and Big Bang Theory. Last night it was just us girls, my husband had a business dinner, so Emma and I watched this week's episode of Chuck again. (If you are not familiar with this show, a brief summary: everyday, average guy gets CIA super-spy stuff in his head and gets two handlers to make him a spy. Handlers are Adam Baldwin [by far the best Baldwin] and a beautiful strong blonde, Sarah.) As the episode was finishing, I took Sophie to her room to change her diaper and soon Emma was at my side, excited at the ending. She was jumping around in the way wound up kids do, and our dogs were in the doorway getting all excited, too. She starts playing with our Pointer, and I heard "I'm going to go all Chuck on you! Nevermind, I'm going to go all SARAH on you! Hiiiiiii-yah!" She kept jumping around, fake kung-fu fighting the dog, and kept repeating "See? I'm all Sarah on you! You can't get me!"

I love that she loves this show, and Sarah's character. The main character, Chuck, likes the spy world. He has worked at a dead-end retail job since being unfairly expelled from Stanford where he was top in his class. But, he refuses to carry a real gun, kill people, or let the assignments take away from his life with his family and friends. Oh, and still gets the girl :) But also, the female leads are both wonderful for her to see - Chuck's sister, a brilliant doctor, and Sarah, who kicks butt regularly. Neither one defer to their male counterparts but treat themselves (and hence are treated by others) as equals.

So Emma's playing around last night, combined with a tweet I received this morning, really got me to thinking about the new female role models and who I want my daughter to look up to. I mentioned Bones as one of our can't miss shows - the main character there, Temperance Brennan, is on that list. Genius scientist AND bestselling author? Yes, please!

Here are a few others I like:

Mellody Hobson, financial contributor on Good Morning America

Sandra Bullock, Oscar winner, adoptive mom, handles things with class. Oh, and doesn't party like crazy and show her undies (or lack of)

Robin Roberts, Good Morning America anchor. She's tall, smart, athletic, and relatable.

Selena Gomez - Emma's already a fan. Cute, sweet, Disney star. Acts, sings, designer, philanthropist, dog rescuer.

Emma Watson - Hermione! Also scholar, humanitarian, and model.

Danica McKellar - Remember Winnie from The Wonder Years? Yeah, she's a math genius. She has also authored two books to encourage girls with math.

Then there's the "real-life" role models: moms, teachers, local business owners, pastors, the women in our community who aren't afraid to take charge and make a change for the better.

So who do you want your daughters to look up to and admire?

Music to (in) our ears

Maybe I'm getting old, or am just becoming more aware of what my daughter hears, but I've really started paying attention to the lyrics of songs lately as Emma and I listen to the radio in the car. It really started a few years ago with that horribly annoying song about "Superman" but not the superhero - the really gross, disgusting thing apparently young men like to do to their partners in bed. Remember that song? Soulja Boy was the artist. It was everywhere, even played at Emma's school at an outdoor PTO event. Here are the lyrics. Yeah, my daughter's elementary school was playing this for the kids.

Recently, I've seen a lot of criticism of Lady Gaga's work. I know we live in the Bible Belt, and am myself a practicing Christian, albeit a more liberal one. I'm more of the "live and let live and let's all love each other and get along" mindset than the "my way is the only way, change your way or you're going to Hell" mindset. I know many people of the second persuasion, though. A couple weeks ago someone on my Facebook friends list whom I went to school with posted a rant about her music, mainly her videos. Granted, they are out there. These aren't your standard pre-reality show MTV 3-minute bubblegum videos. Her videos tend to follow the Thriller-esque, mini-movie productions, but more avant garde. This person's complaints were that the videos were available online and his kids could find them and watch them and be exposed to a naked female body (I'm sure his daughter knows what girl parts look like) and that Lady Gaga has admitted that she likes both girls and boys. You know what? Elton John is gay, too, and no one criticizes his music. But that's another topic all together...

I have Lady Gaga's first CD, and most of the songs from the second. I love them. Emma loves them. And you know what? She can listen to them all she wants! I've listened to them, I've read the lyrics in the CD liner. Nothing is objectionable. Lady Gaga has said that some songs have different meanings, but there is no way to get that from the songs themselves. And as for the online availability? Someone apparently needs to teach his children rules for the computer and know how to check out where they visit while in Internetland. And does he really think that's the worst thing out there?? Then he really needs to get out more.

On the other hand, there is Rihanna. I like her music, too. It's catchy, it's fun to sing along with, and she's just adorable. And after the Chris Brown incident last year, the whole country is in love with her. Sunday her song "Rude Boy" came on the radio as Emma and I were going to my parents' house for Easter dinner. Here is what we heard: Come here rude boy, can you get it up? Come here rude boy, are you big enough?

Like that's subtle. I'm sure most parents really don't want to hear "What is she talking about?" and have to answer that.

My point isn't even that these songs are out there, really. Like I said, I'm pretty liberal about a lot of things. And I like Rihanna, that's not the point either. It's the perception, I guess, that gets to me. People are shocked by the performance and assume the music is just as provocative, or remember the vulnerability of last year and assume the music is innocent. It's the judgments that get to me, I guess.

Just pay a bit more attention to what is put in our kids' heads. And if you don't agree with something they listen to, talk to them about why. But PLEASE have a better reason than "I don't like the video" or "that person is homosexual." Be a bigger person than that.

Milestone missed

So in my previous post I mentioned being afraid of missing some of Sophie's "firsts" that I experienced with Emma. First crawling, first steps, first words, things like that. Those will be the beginnings of a lifetime of "firsts" - first boyfriend, first kiss, first time driving, first job - milestones that mark our babies' growth into adults.

Emma recently had another first, and one that she chose NOT to share with me: she had her first period. Wanna know how I found out? I found a wrapper in the garbage and knew it wasn't mine and asked her about it. She still wouldn't even admit to knowing what I was talking about until I asked her point-blank if she had started her period. I was floored when she said yes! I mean, it's still two weeks until she turns 12. I was not ready for this (emotionally, I mean. She's been "ready" for a couple years now and knew what would happen and what to do). But, I never in my wildest dreams thought she just wouldn't say anything about it at all.

And to be honest, it kind of hurt. Ok, it really hurt. I don't expect her to come to me when she has her first kiss. Most of her upcoming "firsts" she'll go running to her friends with before she ever gets around to us. That is a normal part of growing up, I know. But this one - I'm her MOM! I'm SUPPOSED to be the first to know about this, right?

We've always had a very good relationship. I've tried to make her feel like she can come to me with anything at all. And she has - until now. So now I worry about things that may not even be real: if she didn't tell me this, what else is she not telling me?? My imagination has been working overtime.

I have to trust in her, though. We're raising her, I hope, to know right from wrong and how to behave. And she is still young - it's not like she's a teenager yet with the freedoms of movement (transportation) that allows. She and her friends still have to rely on parents to go anywhere or do anything. She doesn't spend a lot of time at friends' houses right now, either. Her friends group has changed with the new school and the parents haven't caught up yet. So it's not like I really have to worry yet.

I have realized one thing, though. I am terrified of her becoming a teenager. I am losing my baby girl to the grownup world!

Almost time to rejoin the "real world"

I have two weeks left of my maternity leave. Sophie will be ten weeks old when I go back to work. I know that is four weeks later than many other moms have to leave their babies, but it still seems way too early to me! With Emma, I didn't go to work until she was sixteen months old. I was there for her first word, her first steps, first solid food, first everything. I am so afraid of missing one of these milestones with Sophie! I also worry about how she will be taken care of (not at first, my amazingly wonderful mother has offered to stay with her for several weeks until she is a bit older). No matter how good a babysitter might be, or how long we've known her, no one can care for a baby like her parent (or grandparent).

Oddly enough, when Emma was smaller I never wanted to be a stay at home mom. She was always Daddy's girl - she loved me, too, but unless she was hungry (nursing) she wanted her Daddy. That didn't change for many years, either. She just didn't seem to NEED me as much. She loved her daycare and was even a bit spoiled there. When she started school, homework night was one of the two nights a week I was working so she didn't need me for that, either.

Once she moved into middle school, though, things changed. Homework is harder and more involved. I can no longer trust she finishes it at the babysitter's house. By the time we get home from work and picking her up, it's dinner time, then bath and bedtime for her. We don't have time during the week to just catch up, relax, enjoy each others' company. I miss that.

Now we have Sophie. The past eight weeks have been wonderful. I have time with her during the day, time for myself when she naps, then time with Emma in the afternoons. I help her with her homework, we talk, we play, we do things together. She has time to go outside and play. We're more relaxed. We eat better meals, and earlier so we have time for family time after dinner.

Don't get me wrong - I love my job and will enjoy being back at work. It is challenging, and interesting, and I work with a lot of wonderful people who I miss interacting with. But I also have a financial obligation to my family to go to work. We just can't do without my salary in the mix.

But if one of us came across a winning lottery ticket, guess where I'll be...

She's here! And the rollercoaster began...

What an emotional week this has been!

Tuesday was the day for my scheduled induction of Sophie. Turns out she had other plans. At around 6:45 Sunday morning, I woke up having strange pains. I wondered if I was having contractions, but it didn't "fit" - felt different than when I was in labour with Emma, and running through the checklist from the doctor (belly tightening, gets worse, can't talk or walk through the pain) didn't really help. My husband woke up at 730 and asked if I was ok. I honestly answered, "I don't know!" I had him start keeping track of the timing just in case, and when I realized it was happening every three minutes (which puts me in the "10 an hour" range for the doctor) I had him call the office.

The on-call doctor said I should come to the hospital to get checked out, just in case. So my husband woke up Emma, she salted the front steps, he tried to shovel the ice off (unsuccessfully) and showered, I finished packing, and we got ready to leave. Thinking that we'd probably be sent back home, I didn't hurry, and we both thought we had hours. Finally around 930 I was putting on my shoes to leave when my water broke.

I changed clothes, and we headed to the hospital. We arrived at the door at 10:20. Emma ran in to get a wheelchair because by then, I REALLY couldn't walk. I was rolled up to a room, put in a gown, and examined. The nurse said I was between 4 & 5 cm and had someone call my doctor at home to let him know I was there. The anesthesiologist came in and tried to put in an epidural, which was difficult because apparently Sophie wouldn't tolerate me being in certain positions and her heart rate would drop. He finally got it inserted, and less than 5 minutes later at 11:18, she was here! My doctor walked in as I was being cleaned up. He told me that from the time the nurse called to say I was at 5 cm until she called back to say I was delivering was only 15 minutes.

A pediatrician came in and checked her out right away, and seemed surprised to find her in such good condition. He explained that many times a birth that is too fast is just as dangerous as one that is too long and puts the baby in distress. She was perfect, though, and passed all her screenings with flying colors!

Oh - for those who want to know she was 9 lbs 2 oz, 21 inches long, 39 weeks along, and has blue eyes and hair that looks both red and blonde, depending on the light.

Monday night we were discharged and went home. I was moving around pretty well, she was in excellent condition, and there was no reason to stay another night. We left the hospital at 6:30 and took our girls home. It was a sleepless night, but a normal one. The usual several feedings, and just her getting used to life on the outside.

Tuesday morning Chris took Emma to school and came back home. Around 8 I noticed Sophie's right arm was jerking a bit. I thought it was strange, but really didn't know what to make of it. I thought it was probably her hiccuping and her arm was just positioned the right way to be moved by the hiccups. I filed it away in my head just in case, though.

Then an hour later it happened again, but her eyes and mouth joined in. I called to make the appointment for her first checkup with the pediatrician, but since I had to change the information for her birthdate and all I forgot to ask for a nurse to ask about it. Then, another hour later, it happened yet again, and this time her right leg was involved. I called the office back and spoke to a nurse, who wanted to check with one of the nurse practitioners and call me back. She called back within a few minutes and wanted us to bring her in at 2 instead of Thursday, appointment day.

It happened again at 11, then three times at 12. We went to the doctor's office and tried to explain what was going on but having a hard time of it. Then, while the NP was out of the room, it began again. I had Chris get them right away, and all the practitioners came in to see. Phone calls were made to the head doctor, to Children's Hospital, and I think one other place. The verdict was they did not feel qualified to take care of this, with her being only two days old, and the doctor at Childrens Hospital wanted us brought in immediately by ambulance as a precaution. Sophie and I rode to the hospital, Chris picked up Emma from school and followed.

In the ER we were shown into a room right away, and testing began on her immediately. Seizures in a two day old are taken VERY seriously. She had an IV line inserted, blood drawn, urine drawn, and eventually a spinal tap. If you want to know what true torture is, sit with your two day old infant as she has all this done to her. I hope none of you ever have to go through that. She had another seizure while we were in the ER, and that was her biggest one yet. The others only lasted 20-30 seconds and that one was two full minutes. She was given Ativan to stop the seizure, and then phenobarbital to keep her from having any others. She was sent for a CT scan, and after the medicines were finished we were taken to our room.

We've seen a neurologist, an infectious disease specialist, and several pediatricians. She had an EEG on Wednesday, another spinal tap, several cultures taken, and blood for labs every morning. The infectious disease specialist was leaning toward a viral infection, which is what the second spinal tap was sent out for. Even though she didn't feel comfortable saying "probably" or anything definite, that is the most dangerous out of all the possiblilites. The neurologist read her CT and EEG and was positive her only problem was bleeding on the left side of her brain, which is actually common in vaginal births but does not usually affect the baby. He wanted to wait 48 hours and have another EEG to compare. If it was the bleeding, it would resolve itself.

Yesterday morning we had the second EEG and he read it and talked to us before we even left the room to come back to ours. It was perfect! She is 100% fine, and now that the combination of anti-seizure medicines have worked their way out of her tiny body she is awake and alert now. (Everyone wishes their newborn would sleep a lot. Trust me, you don't. It's unnatural and scary and nervewracking.) Unfortunately, even though the neurologist has cleared her and said there is no reason for us to stay, he is not her admitting doctor and she doesn't feel comfortable releasing us until the second spinal tap test returns, clearing her of the viral infection. I understand it's just a precaution, but we all want to be home so badly.

Today was a quiet day. Since we're just waiting for the last test to be returned nothing else is going on. One of the doctors came to check in today and our nurse checks in frequently, but that's it. Chris did our laundry and he and Emma came for a visit and brought clean clothes back. Sadly, though, Emma began feeling sick so they are back at home tonight. Hopefully she will be better tomorrow and they can come back.

I must say, though, that I have been overwhelmingly touched by the huge outpouring of love and support we've received this week. This is the first time I've been able to be on a computer all week, but I can check Facebook and Twitter on my phone and am amazed at how many comments and messages we've received about Sophie. Several friends have even posted about her on their own profiles asking for prayers for her. Gladly the prayers have worked and she is healthy and seizure-free again! The people in our church have been amazing, also. Emma has been staying with a family at church so Chris could be here with me. There have been so many phone calls and emails checking in on us every day. I am just amazed. And touched. And overwhelmed. It will take weeks to respond to everyone once we are able to return home! So, if any of those wonderful friends and family members read this, thank you from the bottom of my heart for your care and support. It has meant so much to us and really helped us get through this week of ups and downs and joy and tears.

Holy crap this is going to be OUR child!

Ok, maybe I'm a little late in this revelation. Maybe VERY late, considering she's coming in three days. But this entire pregnancy, even though I can feel Sophie moving around, have seen her ultrasound pictures, and have been preparing like crazy for this little person to come, it's felt almost like a visitor was coming, someone else's child. Especially since we know what day she's going to be born. (Which, by the way, I LOVE since we have Emma and the dogs to plan for.)

Then yesterday, I was thinking about the shelves in her room. When Emma was born, I had lots of pretties to put on the shelves. There was a music box doll I had as a small child, flowers I got as a gift in the hospital, a couple figurines, things like that. Nearly 12 years later, they are all still in Emma's room. I tried to think of something I could put up in Sophie's room, but found myself thinking "That's personal, though." Then it hit me - what is more personal than our baby??

Logically, I understand the whole concept. We are about to have two children. Emma is going to have a sister. She will genetically be just as much a part of us as Emma is. But I have such a hard time wrapping my head around it! I have never lived in a family with more than one child. I'm an only child, my mom is an only child. My dad has 9 siblings, but we live too far away from any of them for me to have seen any kind of day-to-day interaction. Besides, they were all adults. The whole idea of multiple kids, of siblings, of that whole relationship, is so foreign to me!

I am not worried about this - I know once she is born it will all "click" and I'll be just fine, but for right now, it still seems like a very strange idea.

The countdown

This is a mixed-up week. On one side, today was my 36 week baby checkup. She's still a she!! I am very relieved at that. Also, she is definitely a big baby like Emma was, so we scheduled my induction. She will be born on February 2, less than 3 weeks away. I am so relieved to have a set date for her arrival, since now I also have to worry about Emma - if she's in school, if she will need picking up, if I go into labor in the middle of the night... I need to have a set date. Also, I'm a planner. I like to know exactly when things will happen and be ready.

On the other side, we're having a crisis with my kitty. If you are on my Facebook or Twitter lists, then you're aware of what is going on. Sunday night we came home from a visit with my parents to find Ocoee, my nearly 13 year old cat, seriously ill. She couldn't sit up, she wouldn't eat, and she was having small seizures every few minutes. After a sleepless night I took her to the vet first thing Monday morning. She is still there. One problem was a massive UTI, but the neurological problems have had her vet stumped. Yesterday she combed through Ocoee's chart (we've taken our animals there for 10 years now) and realized she's lost 2 lbs in only a few months. That is 1/4 her total body weight! Cats just don't do that unless something is wrong. Right now we're waiting for some blood test results, checking for less common feline viruses. If it is not a virus, then we're likely facing a brain tumor. Unfortunately, chances are higher that she has a terminal issue than a curable one, and I'm having a very hard time with that. We've had her and her twin sister since they were six month old kittens. I was 3 months pregnant with Emma when we got them, so they've always been our "first babies."

So right now we have two countdowns going on - one we are super excited about and one that devastates me. I am trying to focus on the good, though: a strong healthy baby, and a well-loved companion who has had a long pampered life. This week has been such an emotional rollercoaster but I am finally at peace with it.

Techno-what?

I've always thought of myself not so much as a technophobe, but as someone who didn't really need or want a lot of technological things. I much prefer the TV off, phone off, cozied up with a good book kind of day than one spent with 200 channels, four cell phones, three laptops, and a video game system kind of day. Sure, these things come in handy, but I could take them or leave them.

Then yesterday, I realized what I was doing: Sitting on the couch, using my Blackberry to read an article listing the "best of" from the CES show in Las Vegas last week and telling my husband all about the cool things I wanted!

Wow. I was amazed at myself! Granted, I've been immersed in this world for 10 or 11 years now with my husband's job, but I even surprised him this time. Usually he is telling me all about the CES show (their company usually attends) and I'm trying to follow what he says with a glazed-over expression on my face.

I was thinking even more, though, about how our lives have been forever changed by technology in the past decade. In 2000, we were buying CDs in stores, sending some email but lots of letters still, using a land line with an answering machine (cell phones were a luxury and actually turned off at times!), and using paper maps to find our way when lost away from home.

Now, we are in the age of Facebook and Twitter, satellite radio, and GPS. More and more homes have no land line (remember when it was the "poor folks" who had no home phone?) but rely on cell phones. We have Blackberries, iPhones, and the new Droid things. And - music sales are no longer tracked with CD sales but iTunes downloads. Even my 93 year old grandmother has email access now!

So, is all this stuff good or bad? Eh, I am not getting into all that. I am just enjoying getting to know long distance family members on Facebook, new friends on Twitter, and playing with the cool toys =)

(Aroma)Therapy

In around one more month, Sophie will be here. I am uncomfortable much of the time, and run out of energy way too quickly for my to-do lists (I am NOT one who can sit back and let things be). But, I am calm. I am peaceful. I am ready.

A while back, I decided Sophie's room didn't smell "baby" enough yet. It smelled like paint and new flooring. So I picked up a scented oil plug-in at the store, and chose a lavender vanilla scent to go in it. I am not a fan of straight-up lavender (the artificial scent, anyway) but was pleasantly surprised with this one. It is peaceful. Calm. Relaxing.

Sometimes, in the evening when the house is still and quiet, the scent will drift down the hall. I smell it, and feel happy. Some mornings, when I am rushing around the house, getting ready for work, I will open the door, step inside the room, and smell. I relax. Sophie isn't even here, yet, and I can smell her. It is the scent of her bedding, her clothes, even the Boppy pillow. I smell her room, and I think "soon."

When I am tired, when I am frustrated at something else I can't do, when I just flat out need a hug and no one is home, I breathe in her scent. And all is well again.