seriously slacking - 36 weeks

I'm 36 weeks pregnant today, which means 4 weeks left (if I'm lucky). I alternate between wanting to get it over with already and wanting to keep this kid in forever so nothing changes. I've become accustomed to not being able to bend over and breathe at the same time, to the unpredictable, sharp stabbing pains that occasionally shoot from my back to my hip down my leg, causing me to suddenly lurch forward like the Hunchback of Notre Dame. This random pain doesn't care if I'm at home, trying to carry a 25-pound toddler up the stairs, or merely strolling around at Target minding my own business.

What I'm no longer accustomed to is an hour of straight sleep being considered a luxury. All the various discomforts of recovering from a 40-week gestational process in which a human being ... you know, comes out of your body. The profuse sweating that ensues upon hearing a tiny little baby screaming and screaming for no reason. Thinking that your breast pump talks to you.

These days, I wake up around 3am with a strange desire to go downstairs and vacuum the kitchen floor. I often worry about how we're going to permanently ruin Olivia's life and how she's still just a baby and needs our attention.

But I'm sure that just like I did with Olivia, I'll muddle through somehow. I'll get used to not sleeping again, though hopefully it won't be a year-long stretch this time around. I'll wear the dark undereye circles as badges of honor. If nothing else, maybe people will take pity and come over bearing coffee.

21 months old: first time out

I need to start by saying that Olivia is officially 21 months old as of 11/7! I missed taking pictures last weekend, even. Along those lines, I can sort of tell that she's inching closer to being 2 years old these days. Case in point:

She had her very first (and surely not even close to the last) time out on Monday. I gave her a bowl of mac and cheese with a few peas mixed in -- this girl has GOT to learn to eat veggies! -- and after a few bites, she promptly started throwing her food everywhere: against the garage door, into her play area in the dining room, and even managed to get some from the dining room into the kitchen. I asked her to stop, I counted to three ... and she kept doing it. And laughing. And then smacked my hands away when I tried to remove the bowl of offending food. Yeah, Mommy don't play that.

I told her she was going to have a time out because we don't throw our food and it's bad manners. I turned her booster chair facing the door, set the microwave timer for a minute, and waited.

There was an acknowledgement of the wrongdoing: "Noooooooo throwing food. Noooooo."

Then the anger phase set in: "DOWN NOW! DOWN! NOW!" she screamed in a voice that sounded straight out of a scene from The Exorcist.

And finally, our first spousal disagreement about discipline. He thought I was being too hard on her and that she didn't know why she was in time out. I told him 1 minute in a chair wasn't going to kill her, and besides, maybe it was ME who needed a time out.

Halloween photos

always an adventure

We took Olivia along with us while we went shopping for a new bed. She was trying very hard to be patient and doing a good job of it for a 20-month-old, but was starting to come a bit unwound: it was close to dinner time, she'd been in her stroller for a while, and she hadn't napped that day. Yeah, our bad for even attempting a shopping excursion on a day like that.

We let her out of the stroller to run around a bit, but there's really only so much you can do to keep a toddler from climbing on all the furniture (with sticky fingers, of course) or smearing all the glass coffee tables, so we had to pick her up and hold her. The furniture salesperson sees me trying to hold my super-wiggly child and comes over to chat. It went a little something like this:

saleswoman: Hi, Olivia! What are you doing?

Olivia [ramming finger up nose and grinning]: I PICKING MY NOSE!!!

In true Olivia style, this was said at top volume, and I don't doubt that most of the store heard her jubilant exclamation. Several people nearby chortled; one customer walking past our area stopped and bent over at the waist laughing. Yep, that's my kid!

fall fun

pictures

Saying cheese (you can kind of see the chipped tooth here):

10/7/2009, 20 months old:

Her first attempt at sitting in her "OE big girl chair." The high chair, constantly in our way and the cause of a million stubbed toes, has been banished to the basement.

Who is this big girl?

20 months old (two days late)

Olivia is 20 months old! She was a dainty 24 pounds 4 ounces (40th percentile) for weight at her well-baby checkup this week, and half an inch shy of three feet tall -- 35.5" (98th percentile). I bought her some Old Navy jeans in 18-24 month size, and they fall right off. It's no wonder: they're meant for kids 33-36" tall, but also 27-34 pounds.



I have cute photos to post, but Blogger isn't cooperating. More to come ...