I think I should have waited until after lunch to give Harvey his bath...
Thursday, September 23, 2010
Wednesday, September 22, 2010
Amazement.
I wonder how Harvey can have Cheerios and Puffs on his high chair tray for breakfast, and come dinner I'm still finding random O's and Puffs scattered around the house; yet when he has mashed potatoes with lunch, not a soft, creamy little piece comes off his tray.
Simply amazing.
Simply amazing.
Things Harvey Does That Makes My Heart Happy (part one...)
He's bound and determined to get his snack:
He pretends he is Daddy:
He doesn't eat until he does it his way (off Mommy's plate):
He doesn't mind when we play "dress up":
He pretends he is Daddy:
He doesn't eat until he does it his way (off Mommy's plate):
He doesn't mind when we play "dress up":
My Little Man
I. Am. Exhausted.
I went to bed around eleven o'clock last night, but I was up for most of it.
Harvey's nose started running around four o'clock yesterday afternoon, so I figured he was getting a cold. (No thanks to Daddy not covering him properly in the cool weather, I thought.) Plus, after talking to my mom, I learned that Harvey's Uncle Crash also had a runny nose.
Then around bedtime, I felt inside his mouth and could feel one of his top teeth coming through.
*sigh*
Not Daddy's fault after all...
Harvey went to bed fine, but by the time I went to bed, he was already having trouble breathing. He sleeps with a pacifier in practically all night, so that made it even more difficult.
It seemed like every ten minutes I was going into his room and rubbing his back, trying to quiet him down. I managed to get a couple hours of solid sleep, though.
After hitting my snooze for the fifth time this morning, I decided I needed to grab the suction bulb and clean Harvey's little nose out, which meant I was waking him up at 7:09. Now the very first time I tried this back in June when his bottom teeth popped up, he would giggle to no end. Apparently it's super funny to have Mommy suction out your nose!
Not this time.
Poor little guy was thrashing around as if I were trying to hurt him! :0( But finally, I was able to get most of the passage way clean and viola! He could breathe again!!!
Of course, when something like teething and congestion happen, much more has to as well...Harvey had soaked through his diaper, and five minutes after that he stunk up the entire room and got poo all over his [fresh, clean] pajamas, so I had to change him again, much to his dismay.
We finally settled down for the morning and he's been acting like his normal self, except for the watery eyes and runny nose. He crawls to the balcony window, stands up, and waves to traffic driving by. :0)
If only we could all be so friendly while sick.
I went to bed around eleven o'clock last night, but I was up for most of it.
Harvey's nose started running around four o'clock yesterday afternoon, so I figured he was getting a cold. (No thanks to Daddy not covering him properly in the cool weather, I thought.) Plus, after talking to my mom, I learned that Harvey's Uncle Crash also had a runny nose.
Then around bedtime, I felt inside his mouth and could feel one of his top teeth coming through.
*sigh*
Not Daddy's fault after all...
Harvey went to bed fine, but by the time I went to bed, he was already having trouble breathing. He sleeps with a pacifier in practically all night, so that made it even more difficult.
It seemed like every ten minutes I was going into his room and rubbing his back, trying to quiet him down. I managed to get a couple hours of solid sleep, though.
After hitting my snooze for the fifth time this morning, I decided I needed to grab the suction bulb and clean Harvey's little nose out, which meant I was waking him up at 7:09. Now the very first time I tried this back in June when his bottom teeth popped up, he would giggle to no end. Apparently it's super funny to have Mommy suction out your nose!
Not this time.
Poor little guy was thrashing around as if I were trying to hurt him! :0( But finally, I was able to get most of the passage way clean and viola! He could breathe again!!!
Of course, when something like teething and congestion happen, much more has to as well...Harvey had soaked through his diaper, and five minutes after that he stunk up the entire room and got poo all over his [fresh, clean] pajamas, so I had to change him again, much to his dismay.
We finally settled down for the morning and he's been acting like his normal self, except for the watery eyes and runny nose. He crawls to the balcony window, stands up, and waves to traffic driving by. :0)
If only we could all be so friendly while sick.
Monday, September 20, 2010
Holy Procrastination, Batman!
I am officially procrastinating to the utmost extent right now.
I need to be shampooing carpet and/or cleaning out the fridge.
Instead, I am sitting at the computer, Facebooking, emailing, blogging....all while hoping I have the ingredients to make chocolate cheesecake brownies. But I'm even too lazy at this moment to check the recipe.
Part of it is I'm exhausted...went to bed later than I wanted to last night and woke up at 6am to see my husband off as he heads out of town for another week.
The weather today isn't helping, either...overcast and gloomy...59 degrees....slight drizzle....windy.
Thankfully, Harvey went down for a nap at 2:00 as he was super tired, too...maybe I will take a nap.
Or go shampoo some carpet.
I need to be shampooing carpet and/or cleaning out the fridge.
Instead, I am sitting at the computer, Facebooking, emailing, blogging....all while hoping I have the ingredients to make chocolate cheesecake brownies. But I'm even too lazy at this moment to check the recipe.
Part of it is I'm exhausted...went to bed later than I wanted to last night and woke up at 6am to see my husband off as he heads out of town for another week.
The weather today isn't helping, either...overcast and gloomy...59 degrees....slight drizzle....windy.
Thankfully, Harvey went down for a nap at 2:00 as he was super tired, too...maybe I will take a nap.
Or go shampoo some carpet.
Friday, September 17, 2010
For The Love Of My Unborn Child
A few years ago, I thought when the time came and I was pregnant, I would be overjoyed and love every moment of it, complete with the "glow" and all. After all, there is a life inside me that is growing, a separate soul that is it's very own person, making it's own decisions on when to kick or move...it would be amazing.
However, I didn't think about the morning sickness, the complete exhaustion, how annoying the hiccups would be, or how frustrating it would be trying to fall asleep while the little stinker is performing a gymnastics routine in the womb. Or, my absolute favorite -heavy sarcasm here- heartburn. With Harvey, I remember having to go to sleep sitting up, tears running down my cheeks, because it hurt so bad and all I wanted to do was rest! Seriously, all I had to do was drink water and I had heartburn. It was awful. Oh, and shopping for clothing that would fit me was depressing as all heck. It was a chore, even when my best friend took me out on a shopping spree.
So needless to say, I unfortunately became one of those pregnant mothers who complained all the time and was uncomfortable and hated being pregnant. All the thoughts, dreams, and hopes I had about being pregnant were dead wrong.
It's been a similar experience with this pregnancy. I'm trying not to complain as much and just endure it all, and especially trying to have a different mindset this time around. I mean, there are so many women who can't get pregnant, and would give anything to have morning sickness, feel their baby move within them, or go on pregnancy clothes shopping sprees...
The change in my mindset came crashing into my heart and soul yesterday. I've been reading this really enlightening book, Unprotected: A Campus Psychiatrist Reveals How Political Correctness in Her Profession Endangers Every Student by Miriam Grossman, M.D. Chapter six is about abortion, the aftermath of the procedure, how PASS (post abortion stress syndrome) is denied by most medical professionals, and it all gets pretty graphic.
I wanted to cry as I read, ironically in the OB waiting room at my last appointment, how women are told it's a totally safe procedure and you'll feel relieved afterward; how one woman described the emotional aftercare that isn't provided after having an abortion; or the most sickening, how women described having to dispose of the fetus themselves after, in the privacy of their home, they pass the child, and can see the head, eyes, nose, arms, fingers...none had been told of that possibility. None had any safe place to bury it. Most ended up flushing it down the toilet.
There was anger, too, as I read about the Japanese and how abortion is just a total acceptance in their culture to control the population. The Buddhist folklore believe the soul of the fetus goes to a kind of purgatory, but this soul can be saved through a mizuko kuyo, a memorial of sorts. During this ceremony, there are verses that are recited. Cultural differences and religious practices aside, these lines infuriate me: "During the time that I was continuing to grow, I had requested the kindness of my parents, I disobeyed that kindness, So I was brought out by the midwife with the body lost..." Disobeyed? In the womb? I know this is a cultural difference/issue, but it still upset me to read it.
All of this is heartbreaking to say the least. So many women get depressed and suicidal after having an abortion. There is slight hope, though, as a post-abortion Web site was created called afterabortion.com that serves to help women dealing with PASS. I went to it, and while I didn't register, I was able to read a few messages...I wanted to cry.
I have a friend who had an abortion, and we had talked about it on the three-year anniversary. While it was still hard for her, she had accepted what she did, forgiven herself and her boyfriend, and had asked both God, and her unborn little boy, whom she named Andrew, for forgiveness. She had gone to a support Web site, similar if not the same as the one mentioned above, where she was able to find the help she needed. I am so thankful for that help she received. She is comforted by her knowledge that one day, after she dies, she will finally be able to hold her eldest child. I pray she does, too.
While chapter six was exhausting to read, it made me love the little baby inside me even more. (And the little Harvey that is currently tearing apart a magazine...I'm such an awesome mom...) It makes me so grateful for the upbringing I had.
Unlike so many others, I will never have to mourn the loss of my child because of a choice I made; instead, I get to cherish the 3:30am cuddles with Harvey, and the constant gold-medal-winning gymnastic routines of my unborn child.
However, I didn't think about the morning sickness, the complete exhaustion, how annoying the hiccups would be, or how frustrating it would be trying to fall asleep while the little stinker is performing a gymnastics routine in the womb. Or, my absolute favorite -heavy sarcasm here- heartburn. With Harvey, I remember having to go to sleep sitting up, tears running down my cheeks, because it hurt so bad and all I wanted to do was rest! Seriously, all I had to do was drink water and I had heartburn. It was awful. Oh, and shopping for clothing that would fit me was depressing as all heck. It was a chore, even when my best friend took me out on a shopping spree.
So needless to say, I unfortunately became one of those pregnant mothers who complained all the time and was uncomfortable and hated being pregnant. All the thoughts, dreams, and hopes I had about being pregnant were dead wrong.
It's been a similar experience with this pregnancy. I'm trying not to complain as much and just endure it all, and especially trying to have a different mindset this time around. I mean, there are so many women who can't get pregnant, and would give anything to have morning sickness, feel their baby move within them, or go on pregnancy clothes shopping sprees...
The change in my mindset came crashing into my heart and soul yesterday. I've been reading this really enlightening book, Unprotected: A Campus Psychiatrist Reveals How Political Correctness in Her Profession Endangers Every Student by Miriam Grossman, M.D. Chapter six is about abortion, the aftermath of the procedure, how PASS (post abortion stress syndrome) is denied by most medical professionals, and it all gets pretty graphic.
I wanted to cry as I read, ironically in the OB waiting room at my last appointment, how women are told it's a totally safe procedure and you'll feel relieved afterward; how one woman described the emotional aftercare that isn't provided after having an abortion; or the most sickening, how women described having to dispose of the fetus themselves after, in the privacy of their home, they pass the child, and can see the head, eyes, nose, arms, fingers...none had been told of that possibility. None had any safe place to bury it. Most ended up flushing it down the toilet.
There was anger, too, as I read about the Japanese and how abortion is just a total acceptance in their culture to control the population. The Buddhist folklore believe the soul of the fetus goes to a kind of purgatory, but this soul can be saved through a mizuko kuyo, a memorial of sorts. During this ceremony, there are verses that are recited. Cultural differences and religious practices aside, these lines infuriate me: "During the time that I was continuing to grow, I had requested the kindness of my parents, I disobeyed that kindness, So I was brought out by the midwife with the body lost..." Disobeyed? In the womb? I know this is a cultural difference/issue, but it still upset me to read it.
All of this is heartbreaking to say the least. So many women get depressed and suicidal after having an abortion. There is slight hope, though, as a post-abortion Web site was created called afterabortion.com that serves to help women dealing with PASS. I went to it, and while I didn't register, I was able to read a few messages...I wanted to cry.
I have a friend who had an abortion, and we had talked about it on the three-year anniversary. While it was still hard for her, she had accepted what she did, forgiven herself and her boyfriend, and had asked both God, and her unborn little boy, whom she named Andrew, for forgiveness. She had gone to a support Web site, similar if not the same as the one mentioned above, where she was able to find the help she needed. I am so thankful for that help she received. She is comforted by her knowledge that one day, after she dies, she will finally be able to hold her eldest child. I pray she does, too.
While chapter six was exhausting to read, it made me love the little baby inside me even more. (And the little Harvey that is currently tearing apart a magazine...I'm such an awesome mom...) It makes me so grateful for the upbringing I had.
Unlike so many others, I will never have to mourn the loss of my child because of a choice I made; instead, I get to cherish the 3:30am cuddles with Harvey, and the constant gold-medal-winning gymnastic routines of my unborn child.
Wednesday, September 15, 2010
Moving....what a headache
I remember when I was a little girl and my family would move. I LOVED it. Packing all my stuff, going to a new place, unpacking...
Fifteen/twenty-some years later, I. HATE. IT.
What a headache! (Literally...I have a headache right now that I can only contribute to actually getting a lot of packing done today.)
No wonder there are professional movers. If I had the money, I would hire them to do all the work.
However, it is fun to watch Harvey "help" me...
Just this morning he would take out every travel mug I put in a box, examine it, then put it on the floor. It's fun for him, but lots of work for me. I'm taking it all in, though, because before I know it, he'll be the one moving out. :0(
I don't think it would be such a big deal if we were moving from our apartment to a home...but alas, we're going from one apartment to another apartment for an undetermined amount of time. Part of me wants to stash all our stuff in a garage and wait to unpack it, mostly because I don't want to go through this packing/unpacking thing once again.
Anyway, my next headache is scheduled for next weekend, when we actually move. Being six months pregnant, I'm not sure I will be much help to my husband and my father-in-law (who is going to be "helping" us.) Thankfully, my dad is on hand to help if need be, and Mom will be watching Harvey for the day so we don't have to juggle him as well.
Let's just pray all goes well, and no one hurts themselves...
Fifteen/twenty-some years later, I. HATE. IT.
What a headache! (Literally...I have a headache right now that I can only contribute to actually getting a lot of packing done today.)
No wonder there are professional movers. If I had the money, I would hire them to do all the work.
However, it is fun to watch Harvey "help" me...
I don't think it would be such a big deal if we were moving from our apartment to a home...but alas, we're going from one apartment to another apartment for an undetermined amount of time. Part of me wants to stash all our stuff in a garage and wait to unpack it, mostly because I don't want to go through this packing/unpacking thing once again.
Anyway, my next headache is scheduled for next weekend, when we actually move. Being six months pregnant, I'm not sure I will be much help to my husband and my father-in-law (who is going to be "helping" us.) Thankfully, my dad is on hand to help if need be, and Mom will be watching Harvey for the day so we don't have to juggle him as well.
Let's just pray all goes well, and no one hurts themselves...
Friday, September 10, 2010
Golf in the house
I recently realized my husband is a child.
Ok, so not real recently. I've known this from early on in our relationship.
But the reality of the notion came crashing down when I walked in the [messy-because-we're-packing-to-move] apartment to see Harvey in his high chair, and Daddy was nowhere in sight. (After a recent choking incident, I'm neurotic about sitting next to him for the entirety of his meal...)
"Hello?" I asked, and just then I heard a little smack, saw Harvey make a face, and heard a wiffle golf ball hit the wall behind my son, and land in a stack of totes.
"Yes!" Came from the living room.
It was actually sightly humorous, but only because it wasn't an actual golf ball sailing toward Harvey's head, and John wasn't aiming for him...just the totes that lay a couple feet beyond him.
Ok, so not real recently. I've known this from early on in our relationship.
But the reality of the notion came crashing down when I walked in the [messy-because-we're-packing-to-move] apartment to see Harvey in his high chair, and Daddy was nowhere in sight. (After a recent choking incident, I'm neurotic about sitting next to him for the entirety of his meal...)
"Hello?" I asked, and just then I heard a little smack, saw Harvey make a face, and heard a wiffle golf ball hit the wall behind my son, and land in a stack of totes.
"Yes!" Came from the living room.
It was actually sightly humorous, but only because it wasn't an actual golf ball sailing toward Harvey's head, and John wasn't aiming for him...just the totes that lay a couple feet beyond him.
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