Holiday stuff.

Happy Holidays, to all! Jeff has actually had these past two weeks off, and consequently, I haven't had as much free time on my hands, so my blogging has been seriously lacking. (He's been adamant about us catching up on shows, watching movies, and playing new games that we received for Christmas). Sorry to all five of my readers. In addition to that, I've had family in town and I've been contacted by a half-sibling that I'd never met before. (FYI, it's going really well, and I'm thankful for this opportunity). So suffice it to say, it's been a busy week and a half. (Also, Jeff and Riley and Cole have been sick...take that with the constant demand of a newborn, and it makes for me being busy even during lazy days). Anyway, despite severe sleep deprivation, I am posting. I hope you all appreciate my efforts, will forgive any massive typos due to lack of functioning brain cells, and you haven't forgotten about me.
Let's see, Christmas Eve was busy for my little family. That's the day we do our visiting. I have told my family this for the last six years, however, they still seem surprised to know that this system is still in place. I THINK it's finally sinking in, though.
We visited my Dad and Teresa, first. They had gifts for the kids, and also offered us treats, so all in all a definite score. :) They both did well with picking out things they thought Riley and Cole would like. For the rest of the day, wherever we went both kids begged to let them bring their new toys. Sadly, because I'm a mean and cruel mother I always said no. One day they will appreciate how terrible I am, though. I'm sure. I'm hoping...
Next we stopped at Muff and Chris's house. She'd taken photos of Sydney and got them in early for me so I could pass them out to family. She totally hooks me up, and I'm always amazed at her talent, and the way her loving husband helps her. Also, they're sooo good to my kiddies. When she gives me the photos she's taken with the copyrights on them, I'll upload them onto my blog.
Our next stop was Bob and Maida's house. I'm bummed to say that I didn't take any pictures...and it's not that I don't WANT pictures, it's just that Jeff's family isn't like mine, in that we are always reminded to take photos. Someone always has a camera out, and then I remember to do it, too. Now, I'm also totally going to blame Kelli for my lack of Anderson photos, as well. She's the one that does take pictures, and she didn't remind me this time. Also, I feel justified in blaming her, because the whole time we were visiting the Anderson's she accused me of being a total raunch. And I must live up to that.
Lastly we went to my grandparents, where my Mom and Scott and my Aunt Sharon were staying. One thing that I WILL say about my babies having a lot of grandparents, is that they totally clean house on the holidays. Riley and Cole got to open gifts from my mom and grandparents and they enjoyed every second of it. They were totally taken care of. It was a nice day, and then we went home, opened our family presents to each other, and went to bed, anticipating Santa Claus's visit. (Oh, and I feel like I need to tell Amy that when we got home, I noticed that her and Kory's gift was under our tree instead of under Bob and Maida's tree, where all the other gifts that we took to others should have been. It turned out that Riley saw it and thought it was to us, instead of from us and put it under our tree...so Amy, if you're reading this and hopefully not hating me right now, Jeff will take your gift-nothing overly exciting, I'm sad to say-to Kory during racquetball this week. And sorry for totally sucking).
On a more personal note, I have another cold sore and a story that goes with it. You can't really see it in the above photo, however, I posted a picture of the offending grossness last time around, and I'm sure it was memorable enough that you all can still see it burned into your brains. Though I love the holidays, there is so much stress that comes with them, and for some reason, all the stress I feel manifests itself right on my face, for everyone to see. As we went to visit family on Christmas Eve, my cold sore was slowly getting out of the "just red" stage, and growing into the warty-pussy grossness phase. Ahh....fabulous. I'm sure everyone that I hadn't seen for a while enjoyed it just as much as I did.
Anyway, this leads me to my sad, sad story. Christmas Day, for our little family, was enjoyed immensely. We opened presents, got to nap, ate lots of chocolate, and stayed in our pajamas all day. Is that the definition of awesomeness? I think so. Our family got a Wii from Santa this year, and it took the majority of our day to make our little "Mii's" and just enjoy playing games and figuring stuff out. While Riley and Jeff were playing, I told Cole that he needed to sit with me at the table, and he needed to write in his Holiday journal. This is something his teacher sent home for him to do to work on his writing skills. He was to draw a picture and then write sentences describing what the picture portrayed. Anyway, all day he'd been playing with his new toys, trying out the Wii, and organizing his stuff--he and I hadn't had a lot of time to talk. He sat down and drew his picture then looked up at me while asking what he should write about his Chrismas Day, and stopped mid-sentence as he looked straight at me. "Mom", he said, "you got something kinda gross on your lip." I told him that I knew that, and he asked me what it was. I noticed that he couldn't make eye contact with my cold sore, and that he'd turned a greenish color. I told him I had a sore on my lip, and not to worry about it. He sat there for a few minutes and wouldn't look at me. I asked if he was okay, and he said that he just wanted to write his sentence and then go play--all the while not looking at me. I started to laugh, and he looked like he was going to start crying, so I told him he could go play, and we'd finish his sentences later. He then said, "Thanks Mom", without looking at me, and ran upstairs. The next day they were both playing the wii and Cole asked me to come down stairs to make him some eggs. So I went and started brunch when Riley asked me a question and I went into the living room to answer. Without looking at me Cole asked if I was done talking to Riley and asked me to please go back into the kitchen. Apparently I was still grotesque to look at but I still had to make him his eggs. For the next day and a half whenever he'd walk by me, he'd be very focused on the floor and just mumble "Hi mom, I love you". Yesterday morning I caught him looking at me, and he goes, "Your lip isn't puffy, mom." From then on, he didn't have to avoid looking at my face, and he loved me again.
I just thought I'd share. Like I said, limited functioning brain cells, so give me a break on this post.

As told to me by Jeff....

So Jeff told me another Cole story, which I will in turn, share with you. But let me give you some background, first. Feeding Sydney was a bit of a scary thing for me...I mean, we try to maintain some type of privacy here in our home, but that's usually because we can actually lock the door to the bathroom while it's in use. Anyway, back to feeding Sydney. Cole is a curious kid...and he has a gigantic gag reflex, and things weird him out. Nursing weirds ME out. I mean, I know it's natural, but that doesn't mean I'm going to feel comfortable nursing in front of people. I just don't. Yes, this is my third child, but I still feel just as strongly about this as I did with Riley. I don't have a problem with other's decisions, but as far as I'm concerned, this is where I stand on nursing my children: It's to be done in private. Riley knows where baby milk comes from, she remembers what I did when Cole was a baby. But Cole was pretty clueless. In fact, at first, I'd decided he just didn't need to know...and quickly realized that that wasn't the healthiest way to approach this subject, either.
Soon after we brought Sydney home, Cole asked me the dreaded question..."Mom, what DOES Sydney eat? Where is the milk? Where does it come from?" I answered as honestly as I could. I said, "Well, you know why women have breasts?" He goes, "what's breasts?" I said, "Well, breasts are boobs. That's another name for them." Riley was there, and she added, "yeah, ladies have boobs and they fill with milk for the babies, and that's what the babies eat." He seemed to handle that just fine. I thought he'd completely be disgusted and refuse to let all of us talk about it. But apparently that made perfect sense to him. Anyway, when I do feed Sydney now, and I'm covered up, he'll say things like, "I knew she was hungry", and just be on his way. He has no weirdness about it at all, and this makes life a lot easier.
But apparently, he DOES think about it, occasionally. Last night while I was cleaning the kitchen, Cole went into his and Riley's room, while Jeff was in there, too. Apparently he was wearing one of my bras. I don't know where he got it, it must have been in the dirty laundry or something. Anyway, he goes into the room, ignores Jeff, and says, "Look at me, Riley. I look like Mom, so Sydney was trying to bite me."
My son cracks me up.

It's true love.

Helloooo! I've been hearing from people that I have sucked at getting posts up, lately. Excuse me, but giving birth, and then actually taking care of the infant, is hard work. Plus, when I do have extra time, I find that I am holding Sydney...just cause she'll only smell like this for so long, she'll only have her baby orangutan hair for so long, she'll only be nine pounds for so long...you get the picture. Because I know for certain that this baby is the last, I find that everything she does is that much more enchanting. (It makes for boring blog posts, I know...but either you totally know where I'm coming from, or you will, eventually). I had forgotten how hard this is. I forget how hard, EVERY time, but it's well worth it. I've been carefully monitoring Riley and Cole around Sydney...and honestly, I don't think that they could love anyone more. Even when she stinks...and cries, and burps and farts...Riley and Cole are there to kiss her, and somehow translate each sigh and grunt into what she needs at that exact second. Then, of course, they relay the message to me, and it's MY job to alleviate her any annoyance in the timeliest manner, possible.
Sydney is making huge progress. She's a strong little girl. I'm posting one of those really boring "parent videos", in which my child does something that just isn't very interesting or original, however, because I think it's the cutest thing ever, I'm pretending that you'll think so, as well. So you can watch it, or not. You'd think that I would be over that sort of thing...but actually I'm just annoyed that the digital revolution wasn't around the first couple of times I had kids. It's just so sad that I won't have as many memories of Riley and Cole, simply because we couldn't afford the toys that we have now, then.

We've all had a hard/fun time adjusting to our new schedules. Riley and Cole got to stay home that first week that we brought Sydney home, and now they are back to school. (Luckily for them, it's only this week, and then they have two weeks off for Christmas break). Unfortunately for me, the kids have gone back to school and so in addition to not having their help, which was greatly appreciated by me, they will also be bringing every type of cold and flu virus...just in time for us to stew in all of it over the holiday break. Yay...
Riley has surprised me most with Syd. She said she was excited for her to get here, and she was excited to see what Syd would look like, but other than that, she wasn't overly interested in the whole pregnancy process. I guess being that I was a bigger, meaner, more tired version of me, it makes a bit of sense. Anyway, these days she wakes up early on her own to "help" with Sydney. Or when I'm changing Syd or she's mad cause I'm trying to get her fed but going about it too slowly, she's offering to help with distracting her sister for as long as I need, I am really lucky that our new little one is loved so much.
Cole is pretty chill about the whole arrival of Syd. He loves her, and he gives her hugs and kisses, but my son has a very weak stomach...the kind where he will just heave chunks if you even start talking about something gross. (Note: never mention zombies in his presence). Seriously though, he will start vomiting for no reason, only that you have officially triggered his gag reflex. If it didn't piss me off so much, I'd probably be amazed at his talent. Since Sydney is a newborn...and they are all equipped with the terrifying "Umbilical stump", Cole had to disappear each time I would change Sydney's diaper or clothing. Also, when she was bundled up nice and neat, he'd be compelled to talk to her and encourage her to play. If I were to expose her stomach in any way, he'd be out of there. And then he'd call to me from about two rooms away about when I'd be done, and when he could come back in. I didn't realize this was what was bugging him until Riley told me about it. I then confronted him, and asked if that were the reason he jets every time....I was answered when he started to dry heave and told me, "I just don't want to talk about it".
I do have an exciting announcement, however. Last night Sydney's umbilical stump came off. I think that's such a scary name for it...however, fitting. So now I don't have that extra stress, and this makes me happy. Also, scary belly button aside, we've noticed that Noony has been strategically placed wherever Sydney is. This is positive proof that Cole is smitten with his baby sister. I mean, I had pretty high hopes, but this goes way above and beyond him tolerating her and all the time she takes. That's pretty much it for now. I don't have a lot of news, as we are kind of home-bound lately. But it's been nice. So, I promise my posts will get better, eventually. Right now we're all a bit star-struck, and all my free time goes into holding Syd...just watching her.
Oh, and for those of you that are wondering, yes, Jeff does spend time with Syd, as well. I just need to get better about taking pictures. Right now she and Jeff take their evening bath together...and for the sake of my readers, I haven't got any of those precious moments on my digital devices. But as soon as I get a good one, you'll be the first to know.

Not really sure what happened...

Hello everyone. The end part of last week was a busy and eventful one for this family...so it's kind of still surreal to be here. On Wednesday, December 3rd, I turned 31. However, in my mind, I'm still like, 27...so that's how old I'll refer to myself as, from now on. It's just more logical to me, this way. Besides, I can only handle so much reality, so you'll all be the ones forced to deal. Anyway, on December 3rd, I got a text from my sister-in-law saying that she'd been in labor a while, and they were going to break her water. I was happy for her, as I knew what she'd been going through, believe me, I knew. But at the same time I was overly jealous, as well. She was due a week later than I...and here she was going into labor, about to be done. Sometimes I am a terrible, terrible person.
Anyway, my birthday was good. I was still pregnant, true, but for Sydney's sake, I didn't want her to have to share birthdays with me. Jeff and I took the kids to school, and then went to the mall, just to hopefully put me into labor, and buy me some stuff from Bath and Body Works.
Have I mentioned how great buying stuff for me is? Well, it is. However, I'm sure you're more interested in the next part of the story. I made Jeff and the kids take me to the Training Table for dinner...where I can order and eat an entire plateful of french fries covered in cheddar cheese. It. Was. Awesome. After our dinner, I wasn't feeling that great. Massive stomachache, and issues from overeating fries and cheese...and the worst cramps ever. So, I took castor oil again...just to maybe get things started, or other things stopped. Anyway, all grossness aside, I started to have contractions. And after a while, Jeff went to sleep, and I kept feeling them. I decided that I would take myself to the hospital after two hours of feeling them, about two minutes apart, each. (They were tiny, and I knew there was no way my body was moving anything with those, but Sydney'd kind of stopped moving for a long time, and I thought I'd just go get everything checked out, and make sure there was no stress on her behalf. I woke Jeff up about 2ish, and told him that I was driving myself to the hospital, and he asked if I wanted him to take me. I told him no, because I didn't want to be embarrassed, when they sent me home, and I didn't want Kelli to come over to be with the kids for a few hours, and then have to tell everyone about my false alarm. He mumbled "okay", and laid back down.
I got to the hospital, and checked myself in. They took me to a room equipped with a bed and all the hookups. I got into one of those ridiculous gowns and just waited for the nurse to tell me that things weren't progressing, and that I was going to have to wait until the next day, when I'd have been a week overdue, and my doctor would induce me. So an hour went by and they watched my and Sydney's progression, which wasn't that intense, however, my contractions got harder...and fewer. So the nurse went to call my Doctor, came back, and told me that my doctor, the same man that made me go home two hours early of an exact week when I had Cole, said I could be admitted. I called Jeff, he showed up at about 5:30, they gave me pitocin, things progressed, and they broke my water. (The HARDEST and quickest labor I've ever had ensued, and) at 10:46 am, on December 4th of this year, Sydney Joy was born. She was encased in the waxy stuff the nurse referred to as "cheese", weighed 9lbs. 1 oz., and was 21 in. long. Cheese aside, she was beautiful. I was so happy to see her...and as you can see, I had no reservations about having my picture taken with my now larger family...however, seeing my hair right now, tells me I should have taken the proper precautions, first.
Anyway, she was healthy, and strong, and I'm so grateful, still. Seeing her little face, hearing her sighs, and feeling her weight makes me so happy. Even worth the saggy tummy and excess fat that will take forever to lose. I hate being pregnant...but I love my babies. I was so scared to have another one, because it's hard to imagine loving something the way I love Jeff, Riley, and Cole. But as soon as I saw her little face, she just made her way into the same category as them.
My sister-in-law ended up having her baby on my birthday. Story Grace, 8lbs. 7oz.I'm excited, and I've vowed to be a better "Aunt Twin" than the one I had while growing up. My Aunt "Bambi" had the same b-day as me, too...but she was completely whacked. She had three inch long nails, wore blue eyeshadow, huge hair, and had a huge gap between her front teeth that she'd stick her tongue in when she'd laugh at one of her own dirty jokes. (Also, she would sporadically remind me that we were a type of kindred spirits, and our birthday was a reason why we were so much alike). So, I have had the example to learn about what NOT to be like. I promise that I will be less trashy than Bambi, no matter what. Also, Sydney and Story will be the best of friends, I'm totally sure of it. Look at them, they're pretty tight already, so it's all planned out. My sister-in-law ended up having a c-section, so even though I went into labor later, I got to leave the hospital sooner. But besides some uncomfort for obvious reasons, she and Story are doing well, and as you can see, her daughter is beautiful. A big thanks to all visitors, callers, etc. Everything is going great, and we are all happy. Right now, I'm a bit out of it...lack of sleep and all, so please know that we appreciate all of you and all the attention. We're truly blessed. Love to all.

Dr. Appt.

As of right now, there is no "new" news. After an ENTIRE night of contractions, and finally being released from them at 5:00 am this morning, NOTHING happened except for a bit of softening of my cervix. So, the castor oil was for nothing, really. I drank it, and proceeded to puke everything back up, and now I'm thinking I'm not even gonna be cleaned out. Oh well. I guess it's just more poop for my doctor to put with. Hey, I tried to be thoughtful.
I had to get some anti-nausea medication, because I've been throwing everything up, and for some reason, I have a huge bruise all around my belly button, but other than that, I guess I'm okay. As long as Sydney is fine, I'm pretty good with everything. There was more protein in my urine, but my blood pressure looked fine, so no inducing yet. It may be another week or so before I get to hold my little squish. Jeff and I kind of have bets going on how big she'll be, and we both agree that she'll way over ten pounds. Luckily I didn't gain anymore weight...I attribute this to my recent bulimia...excellent.
Anyhoo, that's all for now. This was just my appt. update for those of you that keep checking in. I'll let you know more when I find out more. I'm going to be lying low for a while, as I know that my days of laziness are numbered and I'm trying to cash in on every extra wink I can get. So, until next time ladies and gents.

Last minute thoughts

My posts are always about my new dilemma and "how will I make it?" But when it comes down to the end game, I seem to get through just by the skin of my teeth. Someone, a lot of someones, always look out for me, and I am really grateful. I still complain about EVERYTHING, as you all know, but I do want to state that for the record, I DO feel the love. Tonight I took castor oil. I have taken it while pregnant with Riley and Cole, and it didn't do anything, but clean me out....and that is actually its own reward. My third child, and I know how it goes down in the delivery room--how after that first really hard contraction, you really could care less who is staring at your lady business, you're just trying to get that baby out. And so, I know that there's a big chance that I could be pooping all over those people that are standing/watching/staring from that vantage point. That being said, I still do what I can to try to avoid it, you know? Not that I really know whether or not I have, and in my own mind, I like to think that in no way is it a possibility. But that's all I have, so I'm trying to take the proper precautions.
It's weird to think that this time next week, no matter what, Sydney will be home with us. Tomorrow at 2:00 is my next appt. and from there we will be able to kind of see where things will go as far as getting her out. I've been feeling like maybe my blood pressure is spiking again. Just a lot of headaches, nausea, and peppery vision--those black dots and such, you know? So maybe my Doctor will say we're just going to go ahead and take her. Wishful thinking, anyway. I'll let everyone know, in any case. Anyway, just keeping you up to date. Sydney's been a good listener so far, and stayed where she's needed to be. Now that it's all clear, lets see if we can get her out.

Thankful Tag on Thanksgiving

I've been tagged by Shauna, and I kind of put it off--just cause I've actually been busy since I've been off bed rest. Not TOO busy, mind you, but busy enough that I haven't been online all day long. Anyway, I'm here now, being a big girl, figuratively with making my own turkey, and literally with Sydney residing in my midsection. I'm going to stop rambling and let you know what I'm thankful for, using the letters of my name.

R: Riley, Cole, Jeff, and Sydney. I wouldn't be here if it weren't for them, seriously. I say it a lot, but it's hard for me to truly comprehend and express how much my little family means to me. Sometimes I catch fleeting glimpses, as I see Riley sketching or when I fix her hair, or watch her walk into school, and I see how beautiful she is. How it amazes me that at one time, she was where Sydney is, now. I watch Cole as he talks to me, learning how to read, and takes a great interest in letters and sounds and how they all work together. My heart swells and I can't imagine life without my baby boy. And Sydney keeps me up at night, and while I wish she'd just settle down and go to sleep, I'm satisfied to feel her moving; to know first hand that she's strong, and I get overly excited to meet her. Lastly, there's Jeff, and he's my absolute best friend. There's isn't anything I can't tell him, and above all, he makes me feel loved, and protected and cherished, and he does the same for the kids.

A: Abilities. I'm able to get up and walk, talk, bend, comprehend, read, love, listen, argue, and the list goes on and on. I'm so grateful for these things that I take for granted everyday. It would be cool to have a super power, or something that sets me apart from everyone else...but on the other hand, I see others that may not have every ability that I do right now, and I wonder at their strength and perseverance. I believe we all have our own challenges, and that some of us are stronger than others, as far as that's concerned. But I'm grateful for the abilities that I do have, that I can care for my babies and my husband.

I: Insecurities. I know this is an odd thing to be thankful for. But my insecurities keep me more open, I believe. Thankfully, they aren't as prominent as they were in my teenage years, and yes, they're still annoying and cliche a lot of the time, but in other ways, they help me. I want to be a great mom...not just for everyone else to say I am, but for my kids to look back and know that I really tried. I want to be a good wife. I want to keep a clean house and a loving home. I want to be attractive and fun to be around. I never want to be offensive, or hurtful. These are things I worry about daily. But they also keep me in line, in a way. My insecurities keep me from being too sure of myself, and too set in my own ways. I know that's a skewed way to look at it, but it's how I feel.

N: Nearness of friends and family through technology. I'm thankful that I can call, or text, or email, or visit most of who I need or want to. I believe that technology is a fabulous thing...I love my toys: Ipod, laptop, Cell phone, Camera, Media Players, etc. All these things help me stay "nearer" to my loved ones. Also, I'm more of a writer than a talker. (It's true--for those of you rolling your eyes). Texting and email are two things I don't think I could do without--or blogging. I appreciate being able to reach out to friends and family through my toys. If I had to depend solely on traveling, I'd never get to stay in touch with anyone.

E: Eating. This time of year, especially. But honestly, food is a celebration for me. I also have those "emotional eating" problems, but you gotta take the good with the bad. I love that my belly is always full, and so are the bellies of my children. How it would be to not be able to provide that for me and mine, is something I've never had to face, and I'm truly grateful for that. Also, my favorite get-togethers always involve food, and the companionship and happiness that go with it.

Y: Yes--the word. I'm thankful when I hear it, this means things are going well and working out. This means questions I've asked have been answered and things are set in motion. This means my thoughts are agreed with, or validated. This means someone has confided in me, and thinks of me as a worthwhile friend. This means my kids and my husband are okay and happy. Though all this isn't the true meaning of the word yes, this is how it affects me.

Anyway, I am thankful for all these things and so much more, I'm just limited by some letters. I'm thankful for today, and the meal I'll be sharing with Muff and Chris and my family, and for the happiness they all bring to my life. I hope all you have a very happy Thanksgiving, and know that my thoughts and well wishes are with you. May your bellies be full, and your conversation be captivating. Happy Thanksgiving!

skewed frames of reference

I wanted to have this post done earlier, but so much happened yesterday, that I had to go to bed, as I was literally exhausted. So I apologize to all those that I may have thrown off schedule. (I know know this schedule thing to be true, because last week, as soon as I woke, even though I was confined to my bed, I checked email and blogs and continued to do so each hour. My situation may have been a bit extreme, but rest assured, I'm thinking of you all).
Anyway, if there were some sort of blog drum roll, this, for me, would be an occasion to use it.
Sydney is still packed very tightly away, and will be for the next um...6 days, at least. At my checkup, I hadn't dilated at all, which was good news, however, over the weekend I had some pretty painful contractions that didn't speed up or go anywhere, so I thought at least my body would recognize that hard work for what it was--exercises for cervix softening. But, no. Not at all. It looks like there's one thing I can honestly say about all my children that is the same; they just aren't going to come on their own. They prefer to have the proper budge, or they'll just stay where they are for the rest of their lives.
Now, if anyone would have told me this like, in the beginning or during this pregnancy, that I would be happy at the end to keep her right where she is, I would have laughed in their faces, and then posted about them, telling all that would listen how wrong and moronic they were. (And then probably about how I cried about it as well, because that's a huge staple in my day to day right now).
My appointment went like this....I went in, telling myself that I would NOT cry while the doctor was examining me. Not only was Jeff with me this time, but that just makes this uncomfortable situation worse, and I know this from previous experience. But I wasn't weepy or anything, because I'd just talked to the nurse and despite having sausage fingers and the occasional swelling over the weekend, my blood pressure was okay. She said that yeah, it was elevated, but at this stage of pregnancy, that's relatively normal, and not at scary levels, by any means. (Also, I had lost one pound. When I told Jeff this, he was "pleasantly surprised" for me, because he wanted me to be happy during the exam and such, but it was a sort of: "Well, yay, hon. Good for you", type response. What he didn't know was that I'd been reading about the pre-eclampsia stuff and another sign of it, besides everything else I've mentioned, is gaining about 2 or three pounds a week because your body keeps retaining water). Am I boring you yet? Get used to it. I'm sharing real life experience.
So, the doctor comes in and checks me. Says that the baby's still high, check. Says that I'm only dilated to a one, check. Says that my weight and blood pressure look good, and I asked about my urine, because last week he said that if the protein progressed to a two, he'd have to take Sydney this week. He looked at the chart and said that no protein was found this time. Jeff and I were so relieved. I'm a pretty pessimistic person. This news was my "best case scenario", completely. I asked about bed rest, and he said that yes, I can get up and do things--but that doesn't mean ANY heavy lifting, or marathon walks. I can pick my home up, though, and with the kids help, do laundry and wipe off counters and all the little things I complain about daily, but couldn't do for an entire week. And I seriously missed them.
Breaking it all down. I'm not on bed rest anymore. This really had me glowing yesterday, and strutting my pregnant stuff. I can do little things, but enough to do most of Thanksgiving dinner, and actually enjoy it. No DATS for me, but at this point, I'm okay with it--and, though he's a bit bummed, I'm sending Jeff. Sydney is still moving like she's going to rip her way out of me somehow, and I get the feeling she really is a big kid. Some of her stretches literally make me stop and gasp. But she's moving, and that's all I can ask for. I still have to "take it easy" whatever that means, until Sunday night. I told Jeff that Sunday, after 9:00pm, I'm going through this house like a whirlwind, cleaning and lifting and drinking as many Dt. Mt. Dews as I want. And if she doesn't come Sunday evening, which I am betting is the case, I have my next appt. Monday, at 2. So I'll definitely let you all know what's up.
I just have to thank people that came by...I won't mention all the names, because there are so many, and even ones that haven't physically come by, I've felt really taken care of by everyone's thoughts and calls and emails and everything. Though I've pouted and felt sorry for myself, I've been blessed with a great family, and great friends, and I want to take the time to own up to that. I've received offers and cards and texts and ice cream, and gifts and meals...Delicious meals that I just don't have the time or patience to make when I'm feeling my best. And it's all been a bit overwhelming, but not in a bad way, at all. Just emotionally. Sometimes it's hard to remember how much others love you, and will take care of you. Sometimes it's hard to accept those offers without feelings of guilt for putting them out, or maybe taking advantage. But either way, you all did so much for me and my family. So thank you. I love you, too. In a way, I now kind of feel guilty about not being on bed rest anymore. But sooo happy that I'm not. Anyway, like I said, at this point in time, usually I'm at my most miserable. But this last week showed me what it's like to experience something even worse--being scared. And I'm actually grateful for this experience, as sometimes I really lose sight of important stuff. The biggest lesson learned? That despite the difficulties others are having, whether it be with themselves or their families, or finances, or whatever, they still made time for me and mine. I'm truly grateful, and appreciative of the sacrifice of all your time and thoughts and acts of family love and friendship. Again, thanks so much.

The "keeping you posted" post.

First of all, I am technically OK, I think. I appreciate all the emails and calls and texts and well-wishes and offers of food, taking my children off my hands, and sympathy...cause you know I'm a total sucker for that. I will take all the offers very seriously...and if I need you, I will totally call. Right now I'm trying not to be a total wuss. I hate putting people out. But your thoughts and expressions were really heartfelt, and I wanted to say thank you all.

Jeff asked his HR rep. about the possibility of finagling some type of "getting insurance to kick in sooner" episode. (And not that I'm not naive or anything, but she DID say something about it to Jeff when he started his new job, so it's always been a hope--on the other hand, she also lost his W2 for over a month....so I had my doubts). No dice. I have to keep Sydney in me until December first, NO earlier, or we get nada. We've paid for her up to this point...the tests, the exams, the "how do you feels, and baby sounds healthys", and now it's a waiting game...to hopefully get her to stay put until at least two Sundays from now, at midnight. Keep your fingers crossed for me. Until that time, I'll be bed bound. And seeing as this is my second day, I know that I'm not going to handle this well. Bed rest is boring. Not drinking my daily Diet Mountain Dew is maddening, and missing out on all these things that I've seriously been looking forward to for the last month, is killing me. Plus, there's the fact that I'm even grouchier than usual because I'm feeling sorry for myself, and my kiddos deserve better. I'm going to try to be better, just for them, but I'm whining, too. A tiger can't change its stripes, right? Anyway, that's that for now. Just thought I'd fill you in.

Hope all is well in your lives...because stress and the crap that goes along with it, sucks. I know that a lot of you are dealing with stuff like this, and worse...and honestly, my heart goes out to you. So please just take my whining with a grain of salt, as I know that I'm a weak woman in the sense that when it's something out of the ordinary, I panic. But for those of you that deal daily with hardships and tears, I am thinking about you. You are in my prayers, and please know that though I'm lazy right now, I won't always be...and if help is needed, I'd be happy to oblige. If I were a better person, I wouldn't have to tell anyone that I was willing to help with stuff...but I know that because of my complaining, I have effectively created a picture of me being selfish and crass...and I'm not ALWAYS like that. Anyway, thanks again, and people, work on your blogs. I've got a lot of time with just me and my computer....and if you want to be extra nice to me, give me stuff to stalk--and comment on. Later dudes.

It's in the urine.

Okay. So I went to the doctor's office today. This post may get a little unsavory. So for my readers that are grossed out by my usual frankness, you may want to skip this one.
I've been feeling crappier than usual. This isn't too surprising to me, seeing as how I always feel crappy during pregnancy. I'm also a hypochondriac, so anything that seems out of the ordinary, to me, is dire straits. I mean, I can handle pain. I don't have a problem with needles or being poked and prodded, or tests or cuts, or really any of that stuff. (Also, I know I complain about the pain of exams, but that is all really in my head, and I know this...it's emotionally painful to me to know that someone that I really don't know is digging around in an area that I'm pretty protective of...and looking for signs of life. It's more of a "please don't look at me" feeling, rather than actual pain). I am, however, very concerned about the unknown...and symptoms that may match negative outcomes. It's a conundrum, I know, but I've told you before--not a lot about me is rational.
Anyway, lately I've been having what I thought were possible little contractions. Not that I would know, because I've never had one that hasn't been given to me, by Pitocin. Contractions, and labor, though they hurt, I know that this is what's expected to get the baby out, and so I deal. However, it's completely different to me when I'm in my bed, at night, worrying about the possibility of needing to go to the hospital, exactly two weeks before our insurance kicks in. This makes for some nasty nightmares.
So, while I've been having some unusual pain, I have been quite stoic, and just dealt with it; rationalizing that perhaps this is normal stuff, and I wouldn't know just cause it's never happened before. Also, these little so-called contractions, if that's what they were, would help to soften and open my cervix. Maybe making labor more of a natural issue for me, rather than one that has to be planned down to the last second, as with Riley and Cole.
Anyway, today I find out that despite my trying to be a "big girl" about the uncertainty, and the dizziness, and the overall fatigue that I get from EVERYTHING, I'm actually in the early stage of Preeclampsia. According to my urine test, I have a plus one in protein...and should it get any higher, the doctor told me he'll have to "take the baby" next week. By C-section? By just inducing? I don't know and he didn't say. He DID say to come into his office IMMEDIATELY should I feel rotten (and hello, I always do), have a persistent headache (this is something that happens continually throughout), or start to see spots in my vision (which has been happening daily for the last eight weeks). You don't tell a hypochondriac this information...it just gives us too many possibilities. So right now, Jeff has confined me to bed rest. Also, he's banned all soda/caffeine. (And this, I assure you, will be the death of me). The problem is, though bed rest sounds great...I have two other kids that need to be taken to and from school. And helped with homework, and fed, and played with, and I already feel like a completely negligent mother. Also, I'm seriously going to go out of my mind.
So, Jeff is going to check with his HR rep. tomorrow. Hopefully, there may be a string that can be pulled or something....something that will establish his being there for three months, (which he has), and in some way get our insurance to kick in a few days sooner. If not, it's bed rest for me, which is really sad, because this means that Book club, and my weekend movie retreat that I have be PLANNING on for so long, looking forward to for so long, will have to go on without me. And then next week, I'll miss DATS...my heart hurts just thinking about it. While all are going on...I'll be in bed. Miserable and angry.
So I'm asking for some positive vibes to be sent this way. I'm hoping that some miracle will happen with the whole insurance process...and this way, I don't have to worry about my blood pressure spiking just because of worrying about this whole situation. Anyway, that is the update for now. Apparently peeing into a cup each time does do something--too bad it's biting me in the butt. I'll keep you informed.

6th picture tag...thanks to Kelli.

So this is what I found in my sixth picture folder, picture # 6. Though it's hard to see, it is Riley squinting out of one of the Prairie Dog holes at the Hogle Zoo. I remember I went ahead and walked out of that little cave with the bats and scorpions and spiders because it smelled like serious poo, and I was still in the throes of morning sickness. So I took pictures of Jeff, Riley and Cole being Prairie Dogs, and waited in the 100 degree weather for them to come out.
It was good day for all of us, we went later in the day, not a lot of people were there, and the zoo had the misters going in full force. I also got to see the pregnant elephant that is one of their bragging rites, and felt a certain kinship.

Varying Degrees of Humiliation

Hmm. This week can and will be categorized in my "let's just forget it ever happened" life's experiences. Okay, AFTER I post about it, anyway. I guess I have to keep some sort of record; just to look out for my children, and when they wonder why their mother is overcome with anxiety and odd neurosis. I'm hoping that maybe I can just say, "There's surely some explanation in my blog records that I've kept and printed and bound for each of you, in anticipation of this exact circumstance". Or maybe I won't say exactly that, but you get the gist of what may happen one day. And also? Quit judging me.
So, this week and my humiliations. Well, where to start. How about Tuesday? Seeing as how Jeff had Monday off, I didn't really do much but take the kids to school, sleep, and watch some Reno 911s. There's a certain safety in that routine that I just can't complain about. However, Tuesday is when it went terribly wrong. I again got the kids to school, then had to rush to Orem, as I had my official first weekly appointment. But I was a little early, so I went to my favorite place-Target-to just kill about forty-five minutes. Mmmkay, you know when you're walking into a store, and someone is right behind you? You really only have two choices. Either stop to the side of the doors, and let them go in, because obviously they are in more of a hurry then you are. Or, you can quickly set the pace, and get in, and veer to the carts section. This is helpful because if they need a cart, they can go to one of the five rows of waiting ones, and be on their way. Or, if they're just there for a quick something, they'll simply bypass the carts, and you have again avoided ruining their quick in and out experience. I know this through years of practice. I do all of our grocery shopping--with the occasional exception of when Jeff will do it, and return with some ice cream and cookies that supposedly will last a family of four for the entire week. But that's beside the point.
So as I was approaching the doors into Target, I saw the "I'm in a real hurry" guy behind me, and I opted for the hurry-in-and-get-to-the-carts choice. However, my faith in the electronic opening doors was in vain. The doors at Target open inward, inviting all to come inside, out of the cold, and check out their amazing clearance selections in every department. I hurried towards those doors, and watched as they began to open for me. The man behind was still very much in a hurry, so slowing wasn't an option. However, just as I was going through the doors, they decided to stop....and me, being a lot larger than I realize sometimes, effectively got stuck...inside the doors. So I am struggling in between two doors that won't budge. My belly is about through, and my hips can't follow. I kind of panicked, and struggled at bit, only to notice that I really couldn't move at all, and it was effectively tightening the doors around me. "Hurry Guy" waited for me for like, two seconds, and rolled his eyes while huffing, effectively letting me know that I was in more than one way a huge inconvenience, and opted for the manual doors. Embarrassed, I quit struggling, forced myself not to start bawling, and took a deep breath. Apparently, the lack of motion allowed the doors to open from squeezing my unborn child, and I was able to get through. From there I went to the restroom to hide for about five minutes, assuring myself that whomever had the boring job of watching the security tapes of people coming in and out, got an eyeful, and at least they'll have something worthy to talk about at break time.
After assuring myself that the people that had witnessed the entire event had maybe made their way to the produce section or something, I went out, got myself a cart and did some unnecessary shopping--something that always makes me feel better.
At my appointment I didn't have to be checked. YAY! I hate that part, I really do. Not that it's fun for the doctors, by any means...but it's painful and humiliating, and leads you to think about the more painful and humiliating things to come...and it's just an overall downer. My doctor gave me some Prilosec to help me deal with heartburn that had me puking up stomach acid, and I was then on my way out. (Side note: Prilosec for heartburn is FABULOUS. My sisters had tried to convince me, and I don't get it often, except for when I'm pregnant. But if you need any relief in that area, go for it).
I made the short trek to the front desk to schedule my next exam, and then waited behind a young guy that was being scheduled for some heart tests because he has a murmur--not very big on the privacy practice at my doctor's office, apparently. Anyway, I notice that he looked at my stomach...something that happens regularly. But instead of looking away, he just kind of stared for longer than comfortable. I looked down after wondering what was there, to see the bottom of my bare belly hanging out of my shirt. Apparently after the doctor had measured me, I didn't do a good enough job of pulling my maternity pants up and my shirt down, effectively leaving like four inches of tummy hanging out for the world to see. Remember the Friends episodes where Rachel is pregnant, and she's so fashionable and cute that she can wear belly shirts and tank tops and such? I'm the opposite of that. My belly looks like a beer gut that you have to lift up to button the tops of your pants...and really, what it feels like, too. I just hope I didn't add any extra stress to that kid's heart problems. But that's what he gets for looking.
Lastly, because Tuesday had so many prime examples and this post will be too long if I admit them all, was me going to a meeting for the parents of Kindergartners at Cole's school. First off, I was kind of pissed that it was supposed to last for an entire hour and a half. I mean, it was a "mandatory" seminar for all parents to help our kids learn how to read. And Jeff or I read with Cole every night. He reads to us his little school books, or we read stories he wants to hear, so I thought we were on the right track. Also, I really didn't have a clue as to what we'd be expected to do in that long of time. But I found out that it would be as humiliating as possible. We all got little activity booklets that we need to do with our kindergartners daily for "obvious success" which was just fine. What wasn't fine, however, was that we were then expected to pair up with other parents there, (now the pairing up thing? Seriously one of the best parts of NOT being in school anymore. I hated it then, and not surprisingly, I still hate it now), and go through EVERY activity in the book. The first lesson for us was "praising" your kindergartner's accomplishments. So I had to listen to my partner read, and inject in a very excited voice, "good job!" or "That's Right!" or "Wow, you're such a great reader!" While she read me: John and his blue car sat on the side walk.
Sometimes I think I'm really funny...and when I'm in an uncomfortable situation, I try to loosen things up. So my partner and I started to giggle about how ridiculous we felt about the whole thing...when a little old lady came over and explained that she taught kids everyday that can't read, and that they aren't praised in a correct way, and that it's so sad to her that parents don't take this sort of thing seriously. Uuuuh. After that, I knew it was possible to feel even dumber during this activity.
From there, I decided to take the whole ordeal seriously, and try to be better, and went through most of the book without incident. Until we got to the rhyming part...where we were supposed to introduce "phonetical agents" into our reading regimes. My partner was supposed to say a line from a poem, and I was supposed to fill in the blank because according to phonetic balance, I could just "hear" what would be coming. So my partner goes: Jack and Jill went up the hill to fetch a pail of ______ " And I said "water." She praised me appropriately, and then said: "Jack fell down and broke his______" to which I answered, "neck?" Just cause I'm a tard, okay? I thought it would be funny....and something that Cole would say. We kind of laughed, and that little old lady came over again and asked me if I'd ever read nursery rhymes with my child, and I replied yes, and she said that she hopes I took it more seriously than I did here, because phonetic balance is so important, and she hopes that I try to ensure as much understanding as I can to my child. Embarrassed yet again, I went off to my partner about how I'm glad that lady wasn't Cole's teacher, and what's she doing teaching? She's ancient and smells weird, and all the kids are probably afraid of her because she looks like a gremlin. My partner politely smiled and gave me a pity laugh, and then informed me that that old lady was HER son's teacher.
And that was my Tuesday. This is why I much prefer to be lazy and take naps and watch TV than go out in public, wear regular clothing, and interact with people. Hopefully after I'm pregnant, most of this will go away. I'll still stick my foot in my mouth, because I always do that. But the embarrassing uncontrollable body parts? I'm SO ready to be done with those.

The final countdown

Okay. I officially have three weeks left. This is fantabulous news...and yet, I'm kind of panicking--trying to convince myself that I will be okay, that I won't have to have an emergency c-section, (which, through reading I found out that they cut you vertically, instead of horizontally. And so, not only do you deal with the trauma of scary baby issues, but you are also scarred in a way that is irreversible), that my water won't break in an inconvenient place or time, and, most importantly, the baby will be healthy. However, not TOO healthy....because Cole was a big boy, and if Sydney continues at the going rate of both my previous babies, that would put her close to twelve pounds. And that's terrifying. Anyone that says differently can trade places with me during her birth. (Also, this post is really only for the voyeuristic...it's going to be more like a journal entry than anything else, and because this is my blog, I can do that).
I've got everything I need. I've been lucky enough to have people look out for me and make sure that we are ready for this kid that we weren't planning on. However, it's still scary. Baby number three, and it's still scary. Not wake-me-up-in-the-middle-of-the-night-knowing-I-can-never-go-back scary like having Riley was, but until Sydney is in my arms with all ten fingers and toes and healthy, I'll just be worried and stressed. Anyway, I'm torn all day long, each day between wanting this baby OUT, to hoping she stays as long as possible, and is getting all the extras she needs to be ready. I know, boring for the average reader, but certainly makes for serious, and continuous, hormone fluctuations.
Also, the guilt is already getting to me. Until I actually became a mother, I had no idea what guilt was. And, hello, I'm Mormon. Everything is about guilt. I didn't give up my caffeine addiction throughout my pregnancy. I tried, but I couldn't. So I hope I didn't completely ruin my unborn child's nervous system. If I did, I'm going to feel REALLY bad, and Jeff's going to be really upset with me. I console myself a little by my addiction not being crack, however, if anything is wrong at all...I'll just KNOW it's because of all the Diet Mountain Dews.
Jeff and I have been watching seasons of Reno 911 each night, and this has actually helped me turn my attention to other things--in a "it could always be worse" way. (BTW, very funny show...but not for the easily offended). It kind of makes me think about how the Buffalo, WY police department would be...if it were more culturally diverse. I have a severe love for trashy people; they make me feel right at home. So while watching these episodes, I've felt more calm and serene...and occasionally grossed out. It's a lot like South Park to me, in that it's so wrong, that they get it right.
Anyway, I know I go off on how terrible pregnancy is, and how much I hate it. And all the negatives that go along with getting continually fatter and grosser and slower and more tired, but I'm finally at the stage where I can say, "It's really worth it". Yes, I still have severe heartburn and yes, I still wish I could sleep without peeing twelve times a night, and yes, I seriously dream about being able to breathe without feeling like I'm going to vomit at the same time. BUT, I wouldn't change having kids for anything. Family life suits me perfectly. I can't imagine life without my babies, and I can't wait for Sydney--even though I'm scared to death. I mean, she can't be any worse than what I already have to put up with, right? I'm holding to that thought.

What Cole said.

Jeff and I aren't political people. I'm sure you've all assumed as much. I haven't really talked about it with either Riley or Cole, because I want their lives to be fun. Anyway, today I took them voting with me. I told them who I was going to vote for, they asked why and I answered. After I was all done, we were on our way home, and Cole said something I really didn't listen to, as I was in my own little world. I was knocked out of my reverie by him saying, "MOM! Did you hear what I said?" I told him no, and asked him to repeat it. He goes, "I saaaiiid, do you know who DOESN'T vote for Obama? I said, who? He goes: "Satan. Because he's EEEEVOOOL." I laughed and said, "you think so, huh?" As I watched him in my rearview mirror, he said with the most serious face he has, "I really do, mom. I really do".

My "Low Key" baby shower.

First off, I need to thank my Mother-in-law, Maida for the outfits she surprised me with, and the Christmas stocking she made for Sydney. I was way excited to see this amongst my baby gifts...this is a tradition she's started for all her kids, kids that have married her kids, and their kids. Does it keep her busy? She's only got fifteen spouses for her fifteen children and then their kabillion kids and so on....so you do the math. However, she does it each and every time, and always makes them unique. Jeff and I and Riley and Cole each have one, and now it really feels that Sydney will be prepared for this family and this Christmas. (A side note: two days before Jeff and I got married, I got into a car accident and my lovely little escort was totaled. I had Christmas gifts in it, and a lot were so smooshed and trashed, that they were unsaveable...not to mention I was in shock, so I overlooked a lot. The stocking that Maida had made for me was among those items, and I didn't remember it until everything had been tossed. I was completely heartbroken and embarrassed that I was so careless with something that had taken so much time and thought. So a few months later, she made me a new one. It was just as beautiful and perfect. If it would have been me, I would have grudgingly threw something together for my son's "flighty girlfriend that didn't really deserve him, anyway" just to be nice. And let me say that she never said that or has never made me feel that way, however, when Cole gets married, I think that's the kind of mother-in-law I'll be. I'm just being honest. But as usual, she put thought and love in every stitch.
So my sister-in-law Amy offered to throw me a baby shower. I was excited about it, because I've seen how much detail and effort she puts into her parties. However, after thinking more on it, I really thought that maybe it would be too much work for everyone, and regretfully declined her offer. I knew she was throwing my other sister-in-law that's due at the same time, Kass, a shower as well. I decided that this is my THIRD kid, and this should be old hat for me. I told Amy that I knew she'd do a great job, but we should concentrate on Kass, and though I was super flattered, I'm sure that Amy was in no way needing more things to fit into her busy schedule (she's always doing stuff; crafts, callings, her jobs, and watching her own nieces and nephews, etc. Just the thought of her life wears me out)..and for once, I let go of one of my most favorite things in the world--the limelight. In a way I thought, "good for me". And yeah, this shows how petty and self-absorbed I really am when I congratulate myself on putting someone else before me, but lets try to overlook that small detail.
Anyway, a little while later, I found out that my mother-in-law and sisters-in-law actually got together and decided that I needed a shower, regardless of the many selfless speeches I fed to everyone. (How do they know me so well)? I guess it was supposed to be a surprise, but I found out like nosy people often do, and I was told it would be a small dinner with a few people. Gifts and dinner? I was SO there.
It turned out to be a LOT of people. Many of which I don't often see, and it was really humbling to me to see all these people come out to support me and Sydney. I'm not even sure if humbling is the right word, but for the sake of not embarrassing myself with really mushy stuff, it's the one I'll use. Let's just say I was emotionally moved, if you will. I was also flattered by all the undeserved attention. And it was totally great to get a free dinner at my favorite, Bajio Grill.
Anyway, looking back, I should have taken pictures. But seeing how there were tons of different conversations going on, and I have a really hard time taking pictures while people aren't posing, I didn't take any. Also, I was REALLY enjoying my ensalada fresca. It was beautiful. (Thanks Maida! and thanks to Kass for inviting everyone.) This little cover-up was from Shauna. Sooo adorable. She said that I could even use it if I had a boy...to which I replied, "THIS IS MY LAST ONE! I'M SERIOUS THIS TIME!" But in any case, Sydney's going to wear it like, everyday this winter.
Anyway, I've been showing all my stuff throughout this post, but I also need to give credit to the ladies that gave it to Sydney. There are a lot of names, and references as to how who is related to me, so it may be confusing, but I'm trying to break it down into the easiest form. Also, I just need to show you all my stuff. Cause it's awesome. I used my rocking chair in Sydney's room as a felt board to display all the gifties. Genius? I like to think so. Even though I didn't get this at the shower, this is my crib. I have to show it because it's beautiful. My Mommy, Larraine, bought it for Sydney, and this is where tons of Sydney life will be going down. (Hopefully). The crib that supported Riley's last year of cribdom and Cole's entire babyhood, was completely trashed. So my mom totally went above and beyond and bought me a brand new one, complete with sliding underdrawer and mattress. (The even more fabulous part? It converts into a toddler bed and a headboard for a twin size after Sydney gets big. So basically, she's set for life, as far as I'm concerned). I thought it only right to display my sister-in-law Nancy's gift, as it will be used as the crib's blanket and she included the little sleeper, as well. Nancy hand crocheted the edges, and if you've ever tried doing that, which I have, it takes FOREVER. And to make it look as nice as Sydney's little blanket does, that takes even longer. My sister -in -law Alison, sent me the bib that pretty much sums up Jeff and the little onsie with matching barrettes, from her home in California--she's always thoughtful. Amy's gifts are posted up by were I previously mentioned her. She made the cover for when I'm nursing, and I'm way grateful. I know that breastfeeding is natural, but there's something that's still disturbing to me about letting my boobs out in public. Or seeing someone else's. I realize that some people don't think this way, but I'm of the mind that privates are privates. There's a lot of natural stuff that occurs that you just don't share visually with everyone else. And then she also decorated the little onesies and made matching hair barrettes for each one. (Like I said before, she's crafty). The "I still live with my parents" onesie and little shoes were from Kass, the mom-to-be. I got her boring diapers. And then I forgot to bring them to her babyshower. Does this mean she'll probably be a better mother than I am, despite me already having two more kiddies than she? Most definitely. The little white knit dress, and though you can't see it, a brown beanie, was from my sister-in-law Kim and her daughters. Wendy supplied me with a gift card and because it would be in poor taste to tell you the amount, I wont....but let me just say this: WHOOO-HOOO! I'm going to be shopping up a storm. Kelli gave Sydney two little summer outfits. I'm excited for summer this time around, hopefully I can find some cute stuff to wear, too...instead of my last four months of sweatshorts. Also, I hope to be doing a lot more swimming this summer, too. This gives me great incentive to get back down to pre-Sydney weight. Not that that is anything to brag about, however, at this point....what I wouldn't give. The hats and jumpers and not shown, baby lotion and baby bath were from Sarah. She's my niece and Kim's daughter-in-law. Being a memeber of the Anderson family I have nieces and nephews that are actually older than I am. Sarah isn't one of them, FYI, but it's taken some getting used to. Yet another one of those large family dynamics that are sometimes difficult for me to comprehend. Another niece, Ashley, gave Sydney a little robe and a "Horton hears a who" onesie, and two more neices, Keri Ann, and Kelli gave us some cute shoes and sleepers.
So as you can see, in no way was this baby shower, low-key. I got so much great stuff that it makes me wish I could just throw a party for myself, and let everyone bring me gifts, instead of the baby. However, I did that last year on my birthday, so I guess I can't really ask for more. Thanks to all of you that came, and that visited, it was really great to see you. I'm so lucky to be a part of the Anderson family, regardless of how much I complain. And I complain about the quirks of the Andersons quite regularly....which really helps me forget about all my very consciously hidden quirks and the fact that I'm nutso. Anyway, I really loved all the attention, the support, the conversation, and food. Everything's adorable, and I'm so excited for Sydney to be able to enjoy it all!