New baby means no time for anything

And I don't miss that aspect of it. I love her immensely, she's a sweet baby and very alert when she's awake. Well she does have two speeds - hungry and asleep. That will change eventually but I'm struggling to adjust. And she's a gassy lil bugger. She is definitely her father's child in that regard. She's still a NASCAR baby in that she goes from zero to sixty in no time flat.
She was born a week and a half before big brother's birthday. A board buddy on another site was due the first week of October, and because of some health related issues, she was induced the same day I was. So Thumper has a birthday buddy born a short time after she arrived.

Because I'm rather tied up with tending a baby, the other kids are a mixed bag of helpfulness and annoyance. The teenagers are taking advantage of things and I won't go into detail but I am hopping mad about one particular instance involving someone snooping in my drawers. I should hide other things in there that would shock that person, or require brain bleach. Later, karma will come back and say hi, they can rest assured about that. Then there are times when my time doesn't equal a child's timeframe...and THAT is enough to make lumps on heads a reality. Meanwhile Clone is having a hard time with my time and attention being directed at the baby. She's only getting slightly less attention than when she was the only girl and the baby of the household, but now my attention is directed at someone very loud and demanding and isn't easily quieted...well except via constant attachment to my person. We're getting more attitude and defiance from Clone and it's not typical for her unless she's overly tired. She's not overly tired so much as mad that someone has invaded her territory as the baby, and let's just add insult to injury and include that this someone has moved into her bedroom to boot.

I'm thankful Thumper has developed some semblance of a routine. It's not a concrete routine but more what you could call "guidelines". Eventually that pregnancy ticker at the top of the blog will get removed or changed to something else.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

On a funny note: Last week, as I was driving Beast home from his football game, Thumper was squawking full force the entire drive home. Thankfully it was all of 5 minutes away but she still vehemently protested the delay of a meal. We got into the driveway and as we were getting out of the mom-bus, Beast said "ohh stick a boob in it!"
He's weirded out by my nursing Thumper, but he still maintains his sense of humor about it.

Now, if I could get him to maintain a sense of time.....

And the adventure begins....

After my last post, I went to bed, woke up a few hours later and called the hospital to make sure they were available for the induction and some freak force hadn't sent 30 other women to the hospital in the throes of labor. All systems were go, and I was on my way to evict a baby. I am just going to post a "reader's digest" version for now, other details may appear later as time permits.
I got to the hospital, was put into a room, with one of those *lovely* gowns that are too big for me, even that pregnant. Can we raid pediatrics for a gown more my size?
The doctor broke my water at 8, pitocin was started at 9 after several attempts to get the darn IV to not pinch me. I finally asked that it be redone because there was no "unpinching" of the first.
By 11 I was not having a party by any means.
By 12 I was a sniveling baby.
By 12:30 I was fighting the contractions and whining about an epidural.
At 12:50 I asked for the epidural.
The nurse called the anesthesiologist, stepped into the hallway for the epidural cart and brought it in, turned around to do something w/ the monitor and
At 12:51 I had to push - no time for epidural now because the baby exit was completely ready for the baby to leave the nest.
At 12:56 the baby was out - yelling that she was cold and did not appreciate having landed on the end of the bed. She only landed there because things moved so fast the bed didn't get broken down, and the doctor had to pause to unwrap the cord from the baby's neck.
The doctor almost didn't get to the room in time, barely got her hands into gloves and had to change clothes when she was done. It was a war zone for a few minutes. We were the talk of the maternity unit, and the OB's office.

My hips are still bothering me, and I think I broke my tailbone again. I need to go see a chiropractor for a realignment. It's been a busy week, and looking busier as time goes forward.

Her name means "peace-maker", she has a lot of hair, very functional lungs and a huge appetite.
For the sake of the blog...I might keep her name as Thumper, or change it to something like Torpedo. Heck, I might even go with Nascar for her - she goes from zero to sixty in no time flat.

And in other news....

HAPPY BIRTHDAY BEAST! Sorry, I didn't get you much for your birthday but I did get you a little sister ;) Yea, I know...I suck at this mom thing apparently.

moving right along

At this point, I was due according to the ultrasound 9/21. The charts and calculators said 9/23. The little wheelie thing said 9/25. It's officially 9/28. Either my due date was a miscalculated one because biology doesn't always have a calendar, or I'm just that overdue. I've never been overdue. My other kids were on time. The boys came 2 days before their due date, and Clone was making her way to the exit on her due date, but technically came 5+ hours late.

I went for step 1 of the induction process Sunday. Step 2 is Monday. I'm too tired and uncomfortable right now to go into details, and I still have a bunch of crap to finish before heading to bed. So, just keeping it short and simple this go round. Prayers for us would be lovely.

Anyone smell smoke?

Dad scared us with some elderly electrolyte losses that were looking like a stroke...Older sis called me saying she was worried about dad...nevermind our youngest sister LIVES THERE with him. SO I had to dispatch 2 youngest kids to check on dad and get him back in shape. Lord knows I'm in no condition to go running across town to rescue him. Meanwhile I called the Oldest Sis who's having some minor surgery in the morning, and left a message for her...gah, I hope she doesn't stress out about him when she really needs to be taking care of herself. It turns out Dad was volunteering, as his usual Thursday fun, at the bread mission today in the heat. Then his cheapskate self refuses to turn on any ceiling fans or the window AC units so he can save electricity, so his house was NINTEY freaking degrees INSIDE when it was 83 degrees on the OUTSIDE. He claims it's comfortable. Stubborn ass mule. I call BS! He's had "three gallons" of water, and enough food, but he's old and his potassium, sodium etc were out of whack and Aunt R the nurse helped us get him squared away. She was fairly spot on that his electrolyte balance was anything but balanced. She said that too much water actually flushes out the electrolytes, and dad is just too much a cheapskate to buy gatorade. And he's drinking too much coffee.
I swear if it's not my 16 year old son stressing me out, it's my 82 year old father. Attention whores. Can't let me be the focus just a few months? Geeez.

The oven is still baking a baby, but it's baking past the due date. Shouldn't there be some kind of alarm that sounds when something overbakes? I mean when I use the oven and something's been in there too long, there is a smell of smoke, and then a noisy alarm sounds to tell me I got stupid and distracted, and I need to go take the stuff out of the oven. Baby-bakers don't come with such equipment in the womb.

Well if she's not done baking by the weekend, she's getting evicted from the oven Monday. The heat source is needed for other things too and she just can't be hogging it for herself. I finished my last round of service calls for the time being, and walked all week (yay for hips popping back into place last month!) in hopes of helping Thumper find the exit. We'll see if it helps.

God's just teaching me patience. It doesn't take rocket surgery to know that.

Shopping and Still Baking

Thumper has made herself very cozy in there, and has shown no interest in leaving.
Went to my 40 week appointment and no change, still baking a baby, nothing exciting. She does have an eviction notice for the 28th if she's not out by then. She's apparently got a self imposed lockdown for herself but there's an end date in sight. Plus I have 6 service calls and a reset, and Devildog has inventory at work this week. Noooo, there's nothing going on that makes us too busy to be worrying about having a baby or anything. None. What. So. Ever.

My camera has impeccable timing and it crapped out on me a few weeks ago. I borrowed my sister's for the time being but it's 3 megapixels, my old one was 6. It's better than nothing so I accepted her generosity. I have my eye slated on a Nikon model that is in budget and has the SD memory card and AA battery requirements I need. Don't roll your eyes about the battery thing...I have a bunch of AA rechargables, and if I absolutely have to, I can get AA batteries at the dollar store in a pinch as needed. I'm not tied to a certain charger cord or a computer to charge the thing. When you have 4 kids, and at least one who inevitably move your belongings, a charger cord is one less thing for them to move on you. AA batteries ... common stuff and kids can't get all evil genius on you and hide EVERY last AA battery on earth from your reach or sight.

The end is near, yet out of reach

I am now at that 39 week point. If you've had children, you may relate or even remember...the waiting game. I feel like I did 4 years ago when Mom was on her deathbed and it was a matter of time. Except instead of running to say goodbye to someone, I'll be running to beat an unknown time on the clock to get to a baby-catcher before the baby makes her escape. I'm really really uncomfortable almost 24 hours a day. The physics seem to defy logic and explanation, but I will simply leave it at "stick a fork in me, I'm so done".
I've been an unwilling participant losing the game of Fetal Tetris.
My bladder crapped out on me back in May and has continuously been saying "piss on ya" since then.
This baby has successfully made me stupider than I was before. I'm just thankful I had a larger than average number of active and functioning brain cells when I started my family 16 years ago-well 17 years when you count the conception and gestation. I just hope that as dumb as I've become, this baby girl is an absolute genius stemming from her unadulterated theft of my cognition.
I'm moody, whiny, sullen, mean, evol, cranky, and otherwise like any other teenager in the world - especially when things don't go the way I expect or want. I've actually taken to hiding in my room to avoid spilling my vile mood on others. It doesn't work, because others seek me out and dare enter my room where the vile drips from the bed and stains the carpet. Watch your step in there, I can't get you up off the floor if you slip. I need a forklift myself as it is.

Last week at my doctor's appointment, she asked my sentiments about induction. I told her that I wasn't opposed to it, but felt it was unnecessary in my case and I'd like to wait. She said they don't like to do it till 39 weeks and prefer to see some kind of sign that mom's body is amenable to getting a baby out of her person.
I wagered a guess bout my progress of the baby-exit region, and the doctor confirmed my guess. She then said "we'd like to see more progress than that if we decide to induce you anyway."
At my next appointment the conversation will be revisited and I'm inclined to asking in return "Is NOW a good time for you?"

I did a LOT of walking at work, and shopping this past week. I hope that provided some gains in getting Thumper to exit. I scored some good deals and those are some of the highlights for me. At church Sunday, someone anonymously left me a BIG stack of diapers. It wasn't so much the tangible gift that made my weekend, as the fact that there are people who just love me and want to share with me. It's rather humbling.

I whine and moan way too much. I know that, and make no excuses for it. I try to find humor in things because otherwise I'd whine and moan just that much more anyway. I may as well entertain people out of my unpleasant happenings and experiences. So I guess my entertainment endears me to others or something and as a result, we've been blessed to not have to buy much of anything for Thumper. It was like that for Clone's arrival too. Most of the money out of pocket I've spent during this pregnancy has been for me on maternity and nursing stuff. With both girls, I've not had to buy much of anything. Friends and relatives have blessed me with what was needed, and my girl clothing purchases have been minimal. I'm sure we'll make up for this in their teen years, but by then their big brothers will be adults. And as I keep trying to look forward and count my blessings while painting silver on my thorns, I can't help but keep thinking and saying...

Just stick a fork in me, I'm done. Done waddling, sharing my person, making pit stops every 4 minutes, sleeping in a nest of pillows, being on a first name basis with Tums, and wondering just what exactly is leaking from where.

Anniversary during Open Season

I'm still here. I'm still pregnant. I'm sadly absolutely useless to my friend Persnickety when she really needs help, and I forever feel guilty about that because I owe her some favors like big time.
And from what I can tell, being pregnant makes it open season to lots of people.
Apparently some people were COMPLETELY unaware that I was growing a human. Those that know me, know my kids have all been hiders and sit on my back till they run out of room and have no choice but to make their presence known to the rest of the viewing public. I bet you're asking how that is even possible considering the expanding form (my facebook friends can see the progression since January). Well the thing is, at work, if I can use the fart cart I do. If any store has it, I use it. So me sitting on a cart kind of hides the already hide-y baby belly that is there.
What? You mean just growing a human can't possibly be that arduous? I even got asked by an old man at the grocery store "what's your disability that you have to use the cart?" I told him that I was growing a human and she was doing things to my body he couldn't imagine and walking was damn near impossible for me right now. He then moved on to questioning why I was buying whole milk instead of just a box of powdered and putting water in it because it was just the same. He's lucky my dad is his age and I understand the history of these Depression Era thinkers, and I didn't snap his hairy ears off his head. Thanks Dad for teaching me to respect my elders, too bad the lesson wasn't reciprocative for the elders to respect the youngers.
For the past month and a half or so, walking has been not only difficult or at times impossible, but just moving was painful. After talking to a couple other preggos on my online board for other September due dates, I diagnosed myself with this thing called SPD or symphasis pubis dysfunction. Short story of it all, given my history of pelvic girdle injuries and the associated misalignment, plus the weight of a parasitic human and her warm, watery habitat, plus preggo hormone relaxin, equals one really over-stretched ligament/tendon between my pubic bones.
So that pretty much explains the horrid sciatic pain that prevented me from moving. I had some days better than others, but there were plenty of days I just wanted to cry from it - the pain and the frustration. One of my OBs suggested compression on my hips and I consider her a total God-send for suggesting it. While it didn't make the pain go away, it helped tremendously. It helped push the bones closer so the overstretched ligament wasn't getting away with shearing off the bone. The general recommendation that came from the other OB (who I prefer not to see but that's another rant elsewhere) was for physical therapy. I can only guess this guy thinks chiropractors are quacks or something. Not even going there, just praying that if I don't change providers this far into the human growth process, that this particular scientifically degreed individual does not do the baby catching. However, I disagree with him and started calling chiros on my insurance. The ones I called and that came recommended by others were hesitant to take me on as a patient this far into the game without my having prior chiro care. Understandable and I'm not going to fault them. I get it. I knew the problem I was having was due to misalignment, and I could FEEL as much when I moved certain ways in my attempts to alleviate things myself. I will just go to a chiro postpartum and get myself realigned as the case merits. I must have moved in a good way a couple weeks ago because after stretching a direction I hadn't tried before, something in the pelvic region moved and popped a bit. The next morning I was rolling over to get out of bed and somehow managed to get my hips to pop (and it was not painful- it was actually relieving!) and I have been able to walk again relatively pain free since. I do have to mind how I move, and how long I'm on my feet etc. However it's been a much welcomed break from the literal pain in my butt I had for many weeks. I prayed daily to St Gianna for help getting through that agony.

My nesting energy has been spent working, so I have been completely useless at home. The house has puked on itself as we try to get ready for Thumper's arrival. Devildog is the one that got the Clone's bedroom ready to accommodate another human of sisterly kind. Persnickety and another friend gave me enough clothing and linens that this baby is dressed till Kindergarten and I am NOT exaggerating. At that point we still have Clone's stuff, and I'm sure others will pass on the wealth later as needed. Here I was giving stuff to Clone's old daycare, the women's shelter thrift shop, and others I knew personally that could make use of things as Clone no longer needed or used them. Silly me, should've known another human would appear huh?

"When are you due?"
-September.

"WHAT? No way! You don't look that far along/that pregnant/pregnant at all"
-um, thanks? I sure as hell FEEL every bit as pregnant as I really am. Waddling since May, Devildog called me ducky. It's now my answer when someone asks "how are you?" They're not paying attention and think I say "yucky". Here's a q-tip, clear the wax.

"Don't you know what causes that?"
- YES! We're good at it, and we've had 17 years of practice! (Happy Anniversary of our First Date, my baby daddy!)

"How many is this?"
-This is baby #4, girl #2. Teams are tied.

"How old are your other kids?"
-RW is 16, Beast will be 15 two weeks after I'm due, and Clone is 7.

"Oh WOW, you spaced them apart didn't you?"
-Well they were all surprises and we didn't expect the timing or spacing, but the bonus is built in babysitters and helpers, and the older ones are self-sufficient enough that if I am unable to do something, any of them can do it.
(and yes, even the Clone can do her own laundry, take a shower, dress herself, get her own PB&J sandwich, salad, yogurt, drink or almost any number of things. I am big on kids learning basic life skills so I can go back to being a slacker mom. I robbed myself of my adolescent years having RW in high school and Beast right after I graduated.)

"Well are you or your husband going to get fixed?"
-I didn't realize anything was broken, nor did I realize Devildog and I were of canine variety. Can someone hand me a towel, my tongue is bleeding from biting it so I don't ask people if they're going to get the rectal craniotomy reversed.

Prayers for the Bonny Blue House

Mary Ellen's son went missing from a father/son camping trip. As it turned out, he apparently had a seizure and fell into the creek where he was standing near, and was later found downstream. Please keep the family in your prayers.
http://maryellenb.typepad.com/tales_from_the_bonny_blue/2009/08/urgent-prayers.html

All hoped up and nothing accomplished

I swear I had blog fodder. It's written in my datebook, on the pages of the calendar from about 2 weeks ago. I'd hoped to have it regurgitated to you by now. I may have lost the mo required to post it, but we'll see soon enough.
It's at that point I'm going to lose my ever loving mind. Near-end of this pregnancy. End of summer. School isn't in session yet. Resets are about to start at work. I don't know if my boss has someone to cover the stores I've asked to be taken out of as I reduce my workload before Thumper arrives. Devildog works this crazy stupidity-inducing shift. Kids are stir crazy. Devildog finds something to do away from home on every one of his days off because quite honestly even I don't want to be here. The house has vomited all over itself. Between a friend BL and Persnickety, Thumper will need for nothing, and be well dressed to boot. I mean I even have a big bag of shoes for Pete's sake.
I hoped to make progress with this mess of a shoebox before mid-August, so I could just focus on the next few weeks at work, and getting the kids ready for school. So like a full on ADD brain, I start hopping around from project to project and never finishing any of them. Start working in Clone's room, fizzle out because I want the crib assembled so I can put baby stuff in it to get it out of the way for now. Well...do we use Clone's Crib4Life, or do we take someone up on their offer to give us their crib they no longer need? Since I have this butt load of baby stuff, I need to sort it by size, wash it, and wait...
Where are we going to put the baby's clothes, because cardboard boxes just are not going to work even though I have TONS of them. I have this dresser I scored from the curb, and Clone staked her claim on it, down to the wood stain color she wanted, so Thumper can use the shorter longer dresser (which comes in very handy as a changing station with one of those contoured pad things on it. This was all her idea, so I'm just going to let her think that she came up with it first. I'd already been thinking about it but was trying to tread carefully for fear of catching Clone on a "Thumper-can-just-sleep-in-the-living-room-on-the-futon" kind of days. Anyway, Devildog tossed out the last spitfull of paint remover some time ago (against my better judgement) and I lack the proper scraping or sanding tools to get through 8 layers of paint still in the nooks and crannies of this dresser. I'm mangling woodwork at this point with a razor blade, but I also don't care anymore. I just need this crap done. I can't do this work in the house, it's too cramped and makes a huge mess with the Ryobi rotary tool (think "dremel"), and sandpaper, and scraping of paint. I have almost all of it done but this project was easier when it was still cold outside versus the "hades on your doorstep" temperatures we get in August. As soon as I can stain that dresser, it's getting done, come hell or high water (please Lord, not BROKEN water-yet at least..or contractions either).
I've pulled out more work for myself than I can manage in a short time, and at this point, I just don't care anymore. Except, I still need a place to put this human who likes to party under my ribcage at varying hours of the day and night - most notably 1 and 2 in the morning. Oh yes, and she has a penchant for giving me heartburn at the most *opportune* times too. She's gotta stay put a little longer though, and hopefully in the time I have left before she exits the oven, I can make a sizable dent in the mess. I can deal with laundry later. However, right now, I need to get the stuff my house puked on itself cleaned up without losing my mind. My August calendar is chock full of other things that are going to physically wear me out as it is.
I'm not even going to start on the eminent danger the computer is in of dying for lack of sufficient RAM (working on that), the annoyance of the children and Devildog's schedule, and the other family drama of sheer stupidity that is swirling around me. Nor will I whack my head on the brick wall that is Devildog refusing to even look at baby clothes because he just isn't ready. Can you see my eyeroll? It's so far back that I really can see what the kids are doing behind me. God love my husband, he's apparently STILL shocked some near 30 weeks later, despite the visible evidence of another human's presence inside my own.
So, all I've accomplished is a bigger mess, a lot of grand plans of marvelous theory, and annoying my ENTIRE household with my insane ADD nesting. This is nothing like I'd hoped it would be at this point in time. nothing.

Now...if you'll excuse me, I *KNOW* I saw a waiter somewhere around here with a tray of cheese. I saw some that would go wonderfully with my whine....

Mouth of babe moment

The other day there was some foolishness between the teenagers or something. I honestly do not know or remember what prompted things to get to this point, but it happened. It will always happen.

Clone to Thumper-in-belleh: "Thumper, do not EVER learn anything from our brothers. They're just no good!"

This from the same child who declared more than once that Thumper can sleep in the living room, even suggesting one time she could sleep on the futon.

For Christmas, can you just give me shares of stock in Garnier? I'm REALLY going to need it.