Showing posts with label girl. Show all posts
Showing posts with label girl. Show all posts

Thursday, July 26, 2012

anticipation....

Both kids are down for their noon time naps. So what on earth is this crazy 'on the Go' Momma doing up and blogging when I should be stealing my Zzzzzzs?

After all, it could all kick-off this afternoon (and I'm not talking about the Olympic soccer heats).......

Don't I need all the pushing power I can get?

Frustratingly I was almost asleep less than ten minutes ago - I had my nose nestled against our littlest's, with our breathing in sync and I was just reaching that delicious fuzzy about to drop off the edge of the world feeling, when a squeezing sensation in my intestines woke me right back up.

Straight away my brain shifted into high gear and all the cogs started whirring around, setting my body on high alert. Is this it?

You'd think that after two pregnancies it would be easy to recognize when my primed preggo bod is under 'starters orders' - but not so the case!

A heavy dose of anticipation makes it too easy to misread the slightest tummy sensations.

The onset of labor (at least for both boys) felt very much to me like a period poop.
I know, I know - TMI right? I'm sorry, but there's just no better way I can describe it. 

So that's what I'm eagerly waiting for.

When I start to have slight period cramping in my tummy combined with a dull ache in my lower back and the urge to poop it's a fair guess that the little lady is on the move.

That wasn't quite the feeling that just woke me up, but it was close enough to get me excited. Just a bit of bladder pressure combined with a genuine urge to poop (easily mistakable).

Getting up off the bed for a potty break
 - especially without alerting baby boy to the fact that Momma is vacating the nest - is no easy fete.

I've mastered a somewhat nimble maneuver using my leg to brace my weight while I pull up to sitting. Then I can butt skooch to the edge of the bed. 
Alternatively, there's the rolling onto my hands and knees and crawling backwards off the bed option.

Either way those extra 38 pounds make it harder to keep Momma's momentum under control and each tiny shift can create an earthquake rippling effect across the family bed with the power to wake the dead (or at least the wee nipper...)

But not if I inch off ever so slowly..... and with girly pushing hard against my bursting bladder I often have to swallow some sharp and nasty blows during an already painful and painstaking process!

Once I've mastered getting off the bed, standing up is an even bigger challenge. Gravity can be such a bitch!

I don't remember having to cup my crotch before. But now, for some reason, I find it excruciating to waddle to the bathroom without holding on tight to my girly bits!

Thank God it's not an all day problem and I don't have to publicly grip my goods on my way to the ladies! Only when I first get out of bed and baby girl is sucked back down into a fully engaged position, does my hooch cry out for additional support....

Anyway, It turned out to be a false alarm of course. Just a regular everyday poop I'm afraid....

I probably should go back to bed - but I'm too damn excited.

I managed to squeeze in another prenatal check on Monday. I was hoping to be done with them weeks ago!

I even held off scheduling next week's appointment until today. I don't think I'll be needing it though....

OK, so I know even now (at 38 weeks) it's still a little premature to be expecting lady gaga to join the ranks, but I'm just so anxious to meet this bitty broad who's been bopping my bladder like crazy the last few weeks - and stretching my tummy in ways the boys never did!

She's been very generous on the stretching - until a week or so ago when a swirl pattern emerged around my belly button. My bump suddenly looks like a washing machine on full spin!

To be fair, I've been incredibly lucky on the stretch mark front - I guess I must be blessed with stretchy skin! My second baby was nice enough to give me a few battle wounds on the underside of my tummy, but those have since faded away to nearly nothing. 

Baby boy number one never left a single mark on my tum - barely any trouble at all that kid (both in and out of my belly)! 

He did, however, create strange stretch marks in a more - shall we say - unconventional place. And that was before stretching his way out of my vagina (btw I wasn't meaning my vagina....)

I remember Googling about stretch marks..  you know... in the...ahem... 'a' hole vicinity. I even plucked up courage to  ask the Doc, who you'd think would have seen everything.

Apparently not.

I remember feeling mortified when she asked somewhat aghast, 'How did you even find them?'

Oh c'mon! Doesn't everybody check themselves out in the mirror? Surely I'm not the only curious cat out there? Incidentally they seem to have disappeared altogether now... (Thank goodness for that - my porn star prospects aren't completely scuppered!) 

Which reminds me - this time around I'm hoping to watch the birth through a mirror. 


(Already rethinking this one!! A few accidental live birth image hits while searching for some (in)appropriate blog pics has this once-upon-a-time squeamish Momma quaking in my knickers!) 


I forgot to ask the Doc if they're set up for that - I could always get the hubby to hold a hand mirror if they're not...


Last week I put on a whopping 5 pounds! The Doc was very quick to reassure me that we preggos retain a lot of water in the last few weeks - nothing at all to do with the brownies then, eh? 


Baby belly was measuring spot-on though. I'm hoping she'll stay nice and tidy within the 7-8 pound region. 
My boys have made sure I'm already nice and prepped for that. 

Anything more and we'll be having to work on widening the gap..... not a pleasant thought!


The hubs has neglected to massage my perineum this time, and admittedly I'm not pushing for it. 


As intimate as the act may be, it's never been the most stimulating experience, having fingers and thumbs pull down and stretch the backside of my vagina opening - not exactly the foreplay you'd think it might be!



Instructional image showing *D.I.Y perineal massage.  

I'm not sure if the prenatal practice really does anything other than provide a hint of the sensation that is to come during crowning - and who the hell wants a taster of that? (unless of course, there's a hint of truth in that crowning orgasm legend....) 


The pinnacle burn - when baby's head finally 
pops through - is that rightful '10' on the pain scale that the nurses like to go by. It's a little tricky to provide an accurate number until the worst has happened.   

That stretch and burn - even without a rip - bites like a beeatch! 


When the hubby got out the olive oil last pregnancy I thought I'd handle the massage like a champ - I did have an experienced vagina after all. 
Who was I kidding!? And what a weeny I turned out to be! 

All the massage did was refresh my memory of the intense birthing pain that I'd buried in the deep dark depths of my mind - deep enough to make procreation only 9 months later seem like a top idea! 


This time I don't want to remember the pain until I'm thrust into the throes of it once again. That's probably why I'm not rooting for massaging my perineum and possibly why I
 declined the cervical check for the first time ever this week. 

The nurse clearly gave me an 'out' and I surprised myself when I took it. I've been given the right of refusal for the last three weeks now - and I'm really starting to get the impression that the Docs don't believe it's necessary. 


I think it has to do with this being my third baby. 


In spite of my curiosity I know the measurements don't really mean a jot. If I'm destined to leap from 5cm to 10cm and skip most of transition (like both my previous labors) I hardly think knowing whether I'm 1cm or 1.5cm will make much of a difference at this stage in the game. 


D
addy was a tad disappointed when I told him. I think he was hoping that a little 'Doctoring' would kick-start the birth. I'd rather not mess with mother nature thank you very much - although if Daddy wants to have a 'hand' in doing some agitating he's welcome to bring it on.....! 

The upshot is it could happen any time now. It would be convenient (and most considerate) if baby girl would oblige after a good 8 hours sleep, and before my sister-in-law leaves the state. 


Whenever she does finally decide to get a wiggle on, I'm sure we'll be ready for her!  

Thursday, June 14, 2012

Boy V Girl



What really is the fuss all about?

So we're having a girl next. Big deal!? Aren't boy and girl babies all the same?

The rapturous hand-clapping and delight that we receive each time we reveal our imminent baby's gender is incredibly infectious and, admittedly, I'm pretty frikkin excited about the 'new experience'.

But what 'new experience' exactly, are we in for?




What was it the smart-mouthed kid in Kindergarten Cop piped up with?

Boys have a penis and girls have a vagina!

Well yes they do, and we already know that much, but nothing too different really happens with those bits until they're teenagers, right?

Wrong.

With my two little lads - and me being a lady - I'd yet to stumble across a gender specific problem that had me bowing down to Daddy's superior knowledge, until yesterday, when our almost 3 year old woke up from his nap with his usual buddy, Mr Woody. And I'm not talking about his Toy Story pal here.

When the indie-rock band oracle Oasis wowed all us Brits back in the 90s with (What's the Story) Morning Glory? I have to fess up, I had no idea what a 'morning glory' truly was! It took me and my vanity a wee while to accept that my first real boyfriend's early morning magic trick of erecting a pole-free tent under the duvet had nothing to do with my irresistible sleep-drunk self, nor with him rousing with romantic intentions.

He quite simply needed to pee.

I recall even earlier than that, a school boy friend crudely making reference to having to do a hand-stand in the morning to 'take a pis*'. I guess it's only finally sinking in. I'm not slow - OK, well maybe a little it seems when it comes to knob knowledge. Not all knob knowledge. Don't go pitying the hubs now - this is our third baby on the way after all!  

Anyway, our almost-three-year-old has been on a dry stretch when it comes to night-time and nap-time pees - knock very hard on real wood after writing that Momma! I'm so excited about his bladder going-the-distance, that maybe I'm a little over-zealous at getting him plonked on the pot as soon as he wakes up, and unsurprisingly he's not super receptive to my preemptive potty push.

So yesterday, when I harassed Daddy to get the pot in position, after big boy emerged from his afternoon nap looking all sleep-swept, I got admonished.

"You don't understand. He can't when it's like that."

No - I don't understand. I don't have a penis.

Don't you have to try and pee a little to help the flag come down? Oh, I see! You just have to wait a few minutes for the anthem to finish....  What happens if you're not sitting pretty waiting for the moment? Can you hold your pee after the temporarily 'erected' dam finally lowers - can a three year old?


Of course I don't know these things. I'm a girl.

Foreskin retraction and cleaning has had me stumped a little in the past too - but what more could the hubs possibly know about this than me? My British roots puts me at somewhat of an advantage when it comes to willy 'hood' maintenance!

Other than these teeny-weener trials, it's all been mostly Mommy manageable, until now.

Oh wait! I forgot about Daddy's 'pull it down' lecture on potty (and hovering) penis positioning - Mummy has been known to let the hose shoot backwards, upwards and even overboard at times. And then of course there's standing up to pee. Not something I'm experienced in myself....  except after watching The Full Monty for the first time when I let curiosity get the better of me!

I'm sure, much further down the road, there'll be plenty of wet-dreams, masturbation mishaps and other male-issues that will have my once-upon-a-time Mommy's boys banishing me from their room.

I only hope Daddy will be ballsy enough - and not too 'testy' - to man-handle these penis problems. At least he's got a 'helmet' to protect him! (haha - had enough of the puns yet?)

But seriously, what about a girl?

Daddy will be putty in our little miss's hands for sure. Both boys have been breast obsessed, will our Daddy's girl be the same!?

As far as I can tell, my only bit of mindful advice thus far is to wipe from front to back. Yep right. I knew that from my own muff maintenance. OK, Got it. I'll remind Daddy.

My subconscious is chanting .....periods, pill, PENISES! over and over. Hopefully we've at LEAST a decade of dolls and tutus before all the puberty pandemonium prevails.......

Is there more? Should we be worried? What really is all the fuss about?

Monday, April 30, 2012

NOT a girl!

No, I'm not talking about the gender of baby bump (although stranger things have happened!). I've heard horror stories of closets crammed with pink clothes, tutus and bows, and nurseries all pinkified, set to welcome in a bouncing baby boy?! We don't have much to worry about on that score, with our lack of pink prep, and bags of boy clothes, if the sonogram was on the money, we'll be rearing a tomboy for sure!

I'm actually referring to our handsome toe-head number one son, who's golden locks I love so much I just can't bare to chop em... but chop em I have done! My boy's first haircut (last summer) was an attempt to even out the mullet which I heartily denied he ever sported - and it made a drastic difference! I was so heartbroken at first (I kept a lock for prosperity), but then I fell in love with the little guys new 'boy' look,
Sporting a mullet, Aug 2011

and I thought he looked EVEN prettier,  if that's possible!!

I just can't stop looking at my boys' faces - it's a bit of a safety hazard when I'm driving - they are so darn beautiful!
Birthday  'boy' cut, Sep 2011
His last two haircuts were just to tidy up his fringe (bangs) - much to Daddy's disapproval - although I'm sure Daddy would heartily disapprove of the glittery clips and such required to keep those irritating bangs out of our boys eyes while he's growing his rock star locks!


But 6 months on and our boy's hair was back to girly length, and no matter in what get-up he's clad in - the public just can't seem to accept a little boy with such a thick mop of white golden hair! Frequently now, in the check-out queue or browsing aimlessly around the Target dollar bins, so many people like to praise our girl,  "isn't she pretty?" (which I don't deny, he is very pretty). I also get the slightly less brave - more diplomatic... "Is he a ..girl?" query, which - to be honest - doesn't come off nearly as well as a blatant faux pas. C'mon people - you've a 50:50 chance of getting it right! Check out the shoes- the T-shirt... I leave enough clues to save everyone the embarrassment - but all eyes can't help but be drawn to that oh so girly thick white mane.

Goldilocks, Easter 2012

And I can't talk - my one of my most mortifying memories had me questioning a 'man's' presence in the ladies bathroom at the University Guild, only to have the He-Ra turn around and state in a clearly feminine and dead-pan tone "I'm not a man, I'm a girl." That was a sure fire moment I wished for the ground to open up and swallow me whole!

I might put my lack of gender differentiation down to being a tad bit alcoholically impaired, but still, no girl likes being called a man, and likewise no Mama likes her baby girl being called a boy (hence the recent trend of Minnie Mouse head bows)..


Anyway - today was the day I finally succumbed to public pressure and lopped his lovely white mop off.. AGAIN. And it took me forever! I'm no coiffure - and contrary to popular belief - cutting hair is not as easy as it looks. A two  - going on 3 - year old turned out (unsurprisingly) not to be a willing guinea pig for Mummy's learning curve and getting the wee manny to sit still for any length of time was a bit of a trial!

I trimmed him first off over mac 'n'cheese.... and I turned my cool cat into a choir boy.

So I trimmed his new neat 'bob' again during a NetFlix marathon of Chuck.... and I created an uneven ridge. I'd have been better using a mixing bowl......!

So I trimmed his jagged hairdo again out on the deck with a Kinder Hippo treat bribe to buy me some time.......  I wish I could say third time was a charm - it wasn't. But it was an improvement.

front 
sides

It's still a pretty shoddy job - if you look close enough - but at a glance it's not too bad at all. I'm not entirely satisfied, so I'm bound to upset the little man by touching up my handiwork again tomorrow. The last haircut took a few days until I was happy with the result. Daddy just got some beard shears, so maybe I'll try a number 2 setting on the back...



Go steady Momma! I'm not ready for my baby to get a buzz cut.. just yet.