Names, Names, Names...

The baby naming process is a frustrating one. We have our boy names still...they've changed just a smidge, but are essentially the same few names that we've liked for a while. Girl names, however, have been brutal. Every time we find one, two, three that we like, something changes our minds. There is one name in particular that I love, but I just don't think that we'll use it. For that reason, it was back to the drawing board...or to Half-Price Books to peruse the baby name books, in our case. From one particular book, we were happily reminded of a name that was on our list ages ago and somehow got forgotten. Who is to say that it won't change next week; it likely will.

Here is my problem: I don't care much for the long, ultra-feminine, flowery names. There is nothing wrong with them, it's just a personal thing. Some fairly feminine names, I do like. Mostly, what I love falls in the "no-frills" or "boyish" categories. Adam tends to lean more toward the semi-feminine names, so we're in a pickle. In the baby name book that we ended up buying (one which had categories such as 'no frills' and 'boyish'), I found the following poem. I thought it was cute, so I'm sharing.

Now I wonder what would please her,
Charlotte, Julia, or Louisa?
Ann and Mary, they're too common;
Joan's too formal for a woman;
Jane's a prettier name beside:
But we had a Jane who died.
They would say, if 'twas Rebecca,
That she was a little Quaker,
Edith's pretty, but that looks
Better in old English books.
Ellen's left off long ago;
Blanche is out of fashion now.
None that I have named as yet
Are so good as Margaret.
Emily is neat and fine.
What do you think of Caroline?

-Charles Lamb

Ultrasound Picture

Since our scanner is broken, here is really the only decent picture of the newest little one; an obvious picture-of-a-picture, but it at least gives an idea. From the looks of it (and from other views), the baby seems to resemble my sister, which is kind of BS. Two kids; one looks like my husband's little clone and the other, my sister? Pure crap. (I'm kidding...sort of.)

So Excited, Amigo!

Adam got home yesterday. There was a lot leading up to that day, but I'll get there. The highlight of this week was that Daddy came home. As we were driving to the airport and I told Patrick that we were going to get Daddy, Patrick very appropriately exclaimed, "I get to see Daddy?! Oh, I'm so excited, amigo!" I was, too.

Patrick and I had a great week. We really did. We bonded and are ultimately much closer again. He goes back and forth with his "favorite" parent and, although he's super-excited to have Daddy back, I've slid into the #1 slot again. Hooray!

In a pattern I have now learned to expect, our little string of bad luck in Adam's absence continued. His response to the week's events was, "What the hell happens when I leave?" I wish I knew...

It was a pretty light week as far as school was concerned, but we started injections and I wanted the chance to practice without Patrick being around, so my very helpful mother-in-law offered to take Patrick for the evening on St. Patty's Day. They went to the park and all was well until some much older kid sat on Patrick's leg while trying to cut in front of him in line for the slide. The angle of Patrick's leg and the right pressure from the other little boy meant for a spiral fracture all the way up Patrick's tibia. The night it happened, I thought maybe he had a sprain. No bruising, no swelling. After about 12 hours, Patrick still refused to walk and would immediately start to cry if I touched his leg, so we went in for an x-ray. As soon as I saw the image on the screen, my heart sank.

He's casted up to the middle of his thigh, and will be for the next 3.5 weeks. He's completely immobile, at least for a little while. It's like having a baby all over again, but a really heavy one. I'm re-learning how to manage with a child who needs constant care. It's an adjustment, for sure. For one, Patrick will have to sleep in our bed for the next few weeks. He can't put pressure on his leg and I can't risk him trying to get out of his own bed unsupervised, although his first attempt to walk on his cast may have scared him enough to stop him. Still, I don't want to risk him injuring himself further, at least not yet. We just gave our first bath, which was a two-man job. Adam had to get into the tub with Patrick, we double-bagged his cast in plastic grocery bags and Adam held it above water level while I washed as fast as possible. Overall, it wasn't too bad...just not something we can do single-handedly. He's going to be a dirtier-than-usual little kid.

To be honest, and at the risk of sounding like a really selfish mother, it's really not too bad having a temporarily immobile child. Granted, I'm already carrying around an extra 20 lbs with one child in utero and have to add another 26 to that. It makes me tired. On the other hand, though, my house stays picked up. Patrick has his little spot on the couch and he really doesn't even try to move. He's so calm and quiet. He doesn't seem to mind the cast much, and is even kind of proud of it. We get a lot (A LOT) of snuggle time, and though Patrick has learned to be very bossy (trying to stop that before it gets out of hand), he's insanely loving. He needs his mom. It's a cheap way to get some loving from my only child, but I'll take it.

For now, I only have pics from my phone. Colleen should be sending me some actual ones from her camera, and I wish that I could get the xray images, but I doubt that's going to happen. Spiral fractures are actually pretty interesting to see (and are exactly what the name implies. Google it.) Please see below:

Orlando, Days 2-3

Whoa. Big difference. We are so much better at being a little family of two this time around. Adam has now been gone three days, and we are doing superbly. Honestly. Patrick has been minding, no acting out, very loving (to everyone except Aunt Leeney all of a sudden...no idea why), and I am getting things done. Amen for that. Granted, our nights are a little packed. Work out, do homework, dinner, laundry, pick up, get our things ready for the next day, etc. It's all normal stuff, really. However, staying busy keeps us current. We're not falling behind this time around. We're going to make this work. (That sounds so pitiful, but I'm determined.)

Yesterday was my ultrasound appointment. The baby is doing great, is proportional, about 4.5 pounds, measuring about a week ahead of schedule (so did Patrick; it means nothing), and bore a strange resemblance to my sister from the very few photos that we were able to get. As it turns out, I am no longer able to lay on my back. I found that out the hard way as I passed out in the middle of the ultrasound. Awesome. Apparently, however, it happens all of the time. I came to, got some water, mopped the sweat off my face and we tried to do it again. About 5 minutes in, I called it quits. I just couldn't do it. I started to see stars and knew that it was lights out for me again if I didn't sit up. The ultrasound was over.

I'm honestly a little disappointed, but for no good reason. Everything looks great. I just wanted a few more moments to see our new little one. Soon enough, I guess. My wooziness has not really subsided, much to my dismay. I started seeing stars in the shower this morning and twice again during lab today. Standing in a stationery position isn't working, either. The baby must be laying in a position that is cutting off blood flow. That's about the only conclusion that I can come up with. No complaints, though. Overall, things are really good.

Pictures to be posted soon.

Orlando, Day #1

It's Day 1 of Adam's Orlando trip and things are going smoothly thus far. Despite being under the weather still (I'm very much over that part), and Patrick getting a little upset this morning to find out that Daddy wasn't here, we are doing fabulously. Patrick's down for his nap, we're trying out a no-diaper day, minus any outings and naps. We had one successful trip to the bathroom, rewarded with some "lippies," or lip gloss. Adam might have something to say about that, but whatever works, right?

On today's agenda: looking for curtains for the nursery again. I found some that I love, but that are a little pricey, so I'm on a mission to find something else that will work. After that, it's church and then dinner with the Hatcher family at the Rusty Bucket. Here's to a great Sunday, or a good Sunday, rather. There is a little empty spot where Adam should be, but we're going to make it. We can do this.

I admit it; sometimes, I'm a bad mom. Sometimes, I feel like a terrible mom. Overally, I'd like to think that I'm doing a pretty good job, but there are days...and sometimes those days happen a few at a time, which makes for a major blow to the ego. For example:

Adam left for Tuscon last week, which meant that I was a single mom for 7 whole days. Kudos to those who can pull it off, but I just can't. I cannot do it. I hate admitting it, but I'm helpless without my "other half." I guess it's a good lesson to learn how much a team effort is required, but it's also very humbling. In the week that Adam was gone, I felt like I lost control. Suddenly, I could not get any housework or laundry done. My studies suffered. Patrick started acting out, and I felt helpless. The whole week culminated as my sweet baby Patrick (written with a bit of sarcasm) locked himself in my car...with it running...and while strapped into his car seat.

I had already had a crappy day. I had had kind of a crappy week, and that day, Patrick was in a mood, too. We left work about six and nobody else was there. As I walked out, my hands were full, as usual. My bag, Patrick's bag, my water, a blanket, Buzz Lightyear, Woody and a set of car keys were about all that I could hold. Before I strapped Patrick into his seat, I tossed everything into the front seat, including the keys (the car had already been started, via remote start.) As I did it, I knew it wasn't a good idea, but it wasn't the first time I've done that and Patrick didn't know where the lock button was. I was wrong.

As I closed the door, I heard the "switch" sound of all four doors locking. I didn't even realize what had happened until I walked around to my door and tried to get in. Shoot. Locked. No big deal. I walked back around the car and tried to get Patrick to unlock it. I thought that, certainly, he could do it. He wasn't strong enough. He got frustrated and started saying, "No, Mommy. YOU do it!!" I called my parents; there was nothing they could do. I called my sister-in-law, who had been there once before, too. She suggested calling the police. I did.

Within minutes (barely plural...it was very fast), two police cars slid in our tiny street, lights going but no siren....thank God. At this point, Patrick had been in the car about 20 minutes. I had cracked. I was sobbing so hard that I had given myself a bloody nose. And I didn't realize it. Picture me crying, ruddy-faced, with a blood smear up my cheek, because that's exactly what I looked like.

The cops were great. The firemen came, in two full-sized trucks, sirens AND lights going. People came out to watch. I was mortified. Patrick thought it was great. Firetrucks are awesome! He was waving at the cops and taunting the firemen. They couldn't get the car open. Another 20-25 minutes later, they finally succeeded, but not before they had to swarm in on all four doors, which really freaked Patrick out. As they popped the passenger-side door, four of them were in my car in a second, pulling Patrick out of the car seat, offering him a sucker, playing with him, showing him the cool trucks and the lights. He loved it. LOVED it.

By the end of the ordeal, maybe a total of 40-45 minutes, I felt better. I had finally gotten ahold of Adam. He was having a massage. I almost screamed. He asked if the car got scratched. I almost hung up the phone.

Adam came home on Saturday night. I was beyond happy to see him, but it seems as though it took Patrick and I a few extra days to get back to normal...just in time for Adam to leave again this weekend. I'm bracing myself. Coincidentally, my 30th birthday falls during the time that Adam is gone. I'm hoping it's a happy one. Maybe, with one week under our belt, we'll do better this time around. If not, there is a third trip to Montreal planned the first week in April. By then, we should be pros, right?

And my lesson...a very important one...is that I'm not superwoman. I can't do everything. I'd like to think that I can, but I can't. I need Adam. I need his help and I need Patrick's cooperation. We're a good little team when we're all together. When we're not, we're hopeless. I know for sure now. Please see pics below. I wish I had a wide-angled lens to really capture it, but you'll get the picture.

The helpful heroes as they were arriving:


Checking out the kid in the car:




The view looking to the right of the car. An identical view was featured on the left:




Patrick starting to get a little nervous after aboout 40 minutes or so...

I'm TWWWOOOOOO!

Do you want to see some fabulous children's photos? My sister-in-law (also an insanely close friend of mine), Katie Marsh, took some pictures of Patrick this weekend. She's incredibly talented. One of the perks of having a photographer in the family is the abundance of fantastic photo memories. I can't say enough good things about her. Check out the photos if you get a second.

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Photos By Katie Marsh

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30 Week Appointment

Who got an ultrasound scheduled today? I did, and I didn't even have to ask for it. Boo-yah!

Aside from that, everything looks great. The baby's heart sounded good (I asked this time if it sounded normal). I'm 30 weeks...10 more to go. My ultrasound is on the 15th (Ides of March what?). Adam will be out of town, so I'll be going by myself, but it might be nice to have that little moment alone. I feel like the later ultrasounds take my breath away. I'm happy that I get a chance to have another one. I can't wait.

Weight gain: 18 lbs. (I post that for accountability reasons. If it gets out of control, you'll know because there will no longer be any numbers posted.)