I DO IT!

Do you remember how I said that Patrick's favorite things/phrases were likely to change fairly quickly in the next few years? I feel like, in the three weeks it's been since he turned two, they already are changing. Some of the niceties have been replaced with pure cries for independence. Here is what we hear:

1.) Mommy, don't do it.
2.) Mommy, I do it.
3.) Mommy, don't! It's mine.
4.) Stop it. I do it.
5.) No help. I do it.
6.) Mommy, NOOOOOOO. Don't do that. I do it.

Does that sound like a toddler? At least, it sounds like mine. Very bossy and independent.

In his defense, however, he has picked up some sweet little things, such as the "Come heeeeere" as he's reaching for a hug, or the sudden desire to kiss on the nose. He asks, "Are you ok?" and he whispers "I love you" as we're laying down together. He reminds Adam and I to mind our manners. (Bedtime prayers tonight were simply this. "Dear God, please be nice to Indy, OK? Goodnight.") He's like his mother, I guess...always thinking he's right.

Goodbye (Temporarily) To My Beloved Diet Soda

It's Lent, one of my favorite times of year. Honestly, it is. Fish fries every Friday? Are you kidding me? Sign me up. At the K of C on Friday (that's Knights of Columbus for you non-Catholics...and, yes, it does get confused with KFC) for their weekly fish fry, I was greeted by the greatest selection of what I like to refer to as "cafeteria food" AND Bingo. No joke, I will be the happiest old person ever. I can't wait to eat cafeteria food to my heart's desire and play bingo with my collection of good luck charms. Sure, I eat healthy now with my organic veggies and whole grain everything, but in my heart of hearts, I'd kill for some Bisquick cobbler made with some canned fruit.

The downside of Lent is, of course, giving up something that you love. It's about the sacrifice, I heard today at Mass; the denying of temptation. Again, this year I have given up peanut butter. This makes two years in a row. Truthfully, it's much easier this year than it was last year. Last year was brutal. For that reason, I have also given up my caffeinated diet soda. This is truly terrible. Since I'm currently trying to balance work, school, and family, and am with child, I can't indulge in any super-fun vices, so Diet Coke it is. That's all I've got. And now I've taken it away...from myself. I was doing a little reasearch tonight on the dangers of diet soft drinks, as to perhaps dissuade myself from craving them so badly. I have come up with a collection of information, listed below. It's pretty interesting stuff, honestly. Does it make me want to swear it off forever? Not even close.



One of the active ingredients in Diet Coke is aspartame, better known as NutraSweet, which was approved for human consumption by the Food and Drug Administration about 20 years ago, paving the way for the diet soda boom.

In the years since, a number of people have begun to attack NutraSweet, claiming that aspartame can be broken down into three amino acid components, aspartate, phenylalanine, and methanol. All three can be broken down into smaller entities, called metabolites, which can be toxic. For example, methanol, or wood alcohol, can spontaneously become formaldehyde, while phenylalanine can decompose into diketopiperazine, which is a carcinogen.

In fact, conspiracy theorists credit NutraSweet for causing everything from multiple sclerosis to Gulf War syndrome, but say that "aspartame disease" is what hits most people. Symptoms of aspartame disease include headaches and dizziness … and about a billion other things. In February 1994, the Department of Heath released a list of 92 symptoms that occurred when people had an adverse reaction to NutraSweet, one of which was death.

The fine folks at AspartameKills.com are at the forefront of this expose. While their Website explains the horrors of aspartame in greater detail, their essential view is that Donald Rumsfeld and the NutraSweet people ignored the potential health risks to push approval of their wondrous sweetener. While some of what's on AspartameKills.com is notable and perhaps convincing, their tendency to dismiss government officials as Nazis makes them difficult to trust.

Now, according to a study by the NutraSweet folks, "the safety of aspartame and its metabolic constituents was established through extensive toxicology studies in laboratory animals, using much greater doses than people could possibly consume." Of course, as the tobacco industry has shown us, corporations with billion dollar products have trouble accepting that their products may be unhealthy. Can't trust NutraSweet either.

Some independent studies appear to show that aspartame is safe, though. The fine folks at the University of Minnesota's school of public health studied the effects of long-term, hard-core aspartame use in 108 volunteers. In the study, every day for 24 weeks, half of the subjects were given a placebo and the other half were given the same amount of aspartame found in 10 liters of Diet Coke. The Minnesotan researchers discovered no differences between the two groups.

Then again, a story from Oxygen magazine on the dangers of aspartame poisoning says that 90% of the independent studies conclude that it's dangerous. Conspiracy theorists note that the National Soft Drink Association initially opposed the approval of aspartame and say the government won't listen to their concerns.

All of this begs the question: Is it safe to be addicted to Diet Coke?

We have no idea. All we know is it tastes great with heroin.

Supermom

Who is Supermom today? I am Supermom today. Seriously...let me gloat just for a second. While Adam, my dad, and Patrick played with tractors and horses today at my dad's friend's house, I was stuck at home...for hours...by myself. In the amount of time they were gone, I managed to complete my annotated bibliography due for tomorrow, my drug cards due for next week, and about half of the drug dosage calculation problems that I wanted to accomplish. I also managed to run 30 miles on my elliptical and refresh my memory on effective antiprotozoal medications. I feel pretty good about myself tonight. So what if I never took a shower, brushed my teeth, or got out of my pajamas? Or if I ate only cereal and sugar-free pudding? We get to do it all again tomorrow, except I'll probably perform some basic hygeine before then.

How many "deep breaths" can one take in a day? For me, it's about 45-50. I do it constantly. I re-group. I never did this until I had kids, but I do it with everything. I open the car door and my bookbag falls out, spilling all of it's contents? I take a deep breath and pick everything up. Patrick (accidentally, I hope) throws a 5-pound weight at me, hitting me in the cheekbone? I take a deep breath and leave the room. (Note: This was not what I wanted to do. However, what I wanted to do would have been detrimental to us both. He was reprimanded about a minute later.) I drop a flat iron on my ankle, successfully burning both sides with a sizzle...deep breath (and maybe some explitives. I honestly can't remember.) I don't know that it makes life any easier, but it helps me to cope. Cliche, isn't it? "Take a deep breath." I hear it said all of the time. Here's a little secret: it works.

Twenty-nine weeks and I feel like a house. I don't think the abundance of sweets is helping, nor is the swelling that has moved into my feet. I'm hoping this was just a result of a long day on my feet yesterday, but we'll see. At least it's not uncomfortable. Deep breaths, deep breaths, deep breaths.

28 Week Visit

#1) I am a coward when it comes to doctors. One would think that, after growing up with a doctor parent, I'd be more comfortable. That is not the case. I'm terrified to voice any concerns and I don't want to ask for anything. It gets me nowhere.

#2) I was pleasantly, pleasantly surprised by the behavior Patrick exhibited both in the waiting room and in the exam room today. He had to be patient for almost two hours, but I could not have been more proud of him. He colored quietly, talked to everyone he ran into, didn't get wild, whiny, or out of control. The only moment of embarassment (if you can even call it that) was when Patrick very loudly said, "Mom! My face is very (berry) hot." When I looked at him, his face was bright red and I asked him what had happened. He yelled, "It's ok. I'm just pooping." That's all. That's a walk in the park for us.

The appointment went well. I did get a little queasy with that glucose solution, but it wasn't too bad. Just not how I remembered it. My weight gain is fine. I'm at a total of 16. According to me, I'm on track to gain about 25, so I'm ok with that. My belly is measuring a little on the bigger side, but not so big that the docotor is concerned. The heartbeat was fine, but sounded much slower to me. I'll listen to it myself this afternoon and see where it's registering.

Happy President's Day! (And we're snowed in. It's a wasted holiday, but a nice day to hang out at home.)

Happy Valentine's Day!

After Adam and I agreed to no gifts for Valentine's Day, he just came home with a dozen gorgeous roses, a hurricane lamp and a candle from Pier 1 (to go with our new furniture), and this card, which will promptly be placed on the fridge:

12 Weeks to Go

We have approximately 12 weeks before Baby Walden makes his/her arrival. Hooray for a fast pregnancy! The last week or so has been full of uncharactaristic paranoia (on my part), but we're heading to the doctor in the morning, so that will ease my mind. I'd really like to have another ultrasound, but I'm terrible at asking for things, so I may or may not. I'm guessing that I may not.

Here is a 28 week picture. I've grown, obviously. (And this picture was taken before 7pm. Note that I'm in my pajamas. I'm painfully tired again.) I actually had someone ask me this week if I was sure that I was not carrying two are three. Are you serious? Of course I'm sure. Furthermore, this person deserved a high-five to the face for actually saying something like that. I think I must just look like I welcome comments like that. It happens all of the time. I believe they have just started.



My glucose screening test is in the morning. My plan was to eat nothing but protein all day, as to not throw off the test results, like I did last time. Repeating the glucose screen is absolutely terrible. I wish not to. The last time I did it, I ended up vomiting on the floor in an exam room in front of Adam. My protein plan today failed, thanks to Valentine's Day goodness. I did well for breakfast and for lunch. Then came the V-Day candy. And the Paradise Bakery cookies. And the Hershey Kisses from my mom. I'm in the process of drinking 1.5 gallons of water to flush my system. Let's hope it works. I might just weigh in a little much in the morning because of the water, but so be it. I'd rather feel fat for a day than be forced into the dreaded 3-hour glucose screen. Wish me luck!

Patrick is 1 Year and 364 Days Old

On the eve of Patrick's 2nd birthday, I thought it would be good for me to record what his favorite things/phrases are at this point, especially since most of them will be changing pretty quickly in the upcoming years. They are as follows (in no particular order):

1.) Buzz Lightyear
2.) Dinosaurs
3.) "Icky" Bugs
4.) Socks
5.) Gloves
6.) Clocks (still)
7.) Trucks
8.) Mommy
9.) Daddy
10.) Indy/all puppy dogs
11.) Hearing himself talk
12.) Singing "Jingle Bells" and "Wonderpets"
13.) All sweets
14.) Wonderpets
15.) "What's that noise?"
16.) "No Crying"
17.) "No say that."
18.) "Head down in whoa bed."
19.) "That's scaaaaaary."
20.) "Bye! See ya, be ya!"

Also, we went to the pediatrician this week for the two-year well "baby" visit. Patrick officially hates Dorothy, the nurse, but as Katie pointed out, that's likely because she is the one who gives the shots. He's pretty ok with Dr. Bergstein until she actually does any assessments. This was his first visit on the big boy scale and, though he slouched a little and Dorothy could not get a good height, his weight jumped up to the 30th percentile. He's moved from the 10th, to the 15th, and now to the 30th, all in the last three visits. Dr. Berstein walked into the room and Patrick belted, "Hi, doctor!" When she asked what his name was, he very proudly said, "I'm Patrick Walden." After sitting and talking for a little while, Dr. Bergstein kind of paused a little and watched Patrick play. He showed her "upstairs" and "downstairs." He asked her if she wanted to hear his baby (the last Dr. we went to was my OB), and he showed her his new drawing board. I know I am "that" parent sometimes, but I was so proud of him. I AM so proud of him. Despite his new tantrums, he's a special little guy. Happy birthday to my sweet baby boy!

February 4th

I love February. Good things for our family have happened in February. That's pretty sappy, isn't it? It doesn't matter...we are sappy. Here are Adam's and my email exchanges from today, an anniversary of sorts:

Adam-
Four years ago today, you asked me to be your wife. Even on our worst days, I have never regretted saying yes. I love you, honey. Love.


Dear Catie,

I still cannot believe you said yes. I am lazy and smelly… What were you thinking?!! But one thing is true and will never change – I love you! We have incredible days that I don’t want to end... and we have rough days that will never end. Regardless of my occasional bad attitude, I hope you know how much I enjoy being with you. Love.

Oh, love, love, love. February makes me feel all warm and fuzzy, and I don't care too much that it's sappy. Life is good.