Where is the mommy radar when you need it?

Just when I was thinking I had a handle on the whole mom thing... Colt has been a little under the weather all week--a low-grade fever, fussy, etc. Since his fever was never very high, and he was never really that upset, we had dismissed it all as teething or growing spurt or just still battling the cold from a week ago.

Ah, rookie mistake.

So, Saturday, while visiting my in-laws for Beau's mom's birthday, imagine my surprise when I look down and see fluid draining out of his little, precious ear! I freaked out, and took him to an urgent care place only to hear that his little eardrum had ruptured. EEK! even writing the words hurts me for him.

So we're running two different types of antibiotics, trying to keep it from crusting over, and otherwise trying to comfort the little bugger while constantly apologizing for ignoring the subtle signs of an ear infection. Now that he can sit up by himself and say "da-da-da-da-da-da" we need to teach him to pull on his ear when it hurts. Mommy promises not to miss that kind of sign.

I guess we all knew the day would come...

The other night, Beau was out of town on business, so bedtime for Bryn was less fun than usual. I was balancing Colt while reading the books and then couldn't sit and sing to her like I usually do. It was pretty lame by most accounts, but--you know what--it was the best I could do under the circumstances.

After the feeble attempt at the bedtime routine, I had barely gotten downstairs with Colt before Bryn was up and out of bed, calling me to come back up for a do-over. I ran back up stairs sans Colt to see what was the matter (and more importantly, what I could say or do to make it stop.)

Amid the "I want my Daddy"s, Bryn busted out with a first (of probably many) "I wish Colt would just go back into your tummy." I tried to explain why that was unlikely to happen, but she was pretty insistent on wishing it to be so. She really wanted him to be bigger than he is. I assured her that he was growing, but she correctly countered, "no, he's not, Mom. He's staying that size all DAY!"

I realized that my powerful analogy about how quickly hair grows was probably no match for her frustration level. So, the best I could do was just say good night and love you one more time.

After a good night's sleep, all was well again...and Bryn adores her brother as much as ever.

And baby makes four....

If there were an easy way to blog and nurse at the same time, I'd have already posted this, but alas, it sat in "draft" for a week waiting to see the light of day.

Our blessed bundle arrived on September 15, five days before his due date on record. (or three days after the first one we calculated or two days before the one estimated at the 20 week ultrasound...again, due dates are pretty imprecise. Babies come when they want to come.)

I have a separate post planned to officially chronicle his birth story, but to just hit some high points of the occasion...

1. Went to work

2. Sat through 2 rather brutal meetings.

3. Was invited to lunch with some colleagues around 1:00, but when I stood up to leave...my water broke.

4. Beau came to take me home...wanted to change clothes, gather my things...

5. Went to the hospital around 2:30 and had my arms mutilated trying to get a Heplock in place with my small veins.

6. Following an intense, drug-free labor and delivery, had a healthy baby boy at 7:08 pm.

He was smaller than his sister, by a full pound, but my, what a difference a pound makes. He looked so tiny...Beau and I just kept looking at him in disbelief that we ended up with a pixie child! (He was labeled LGA, "large for gestational age" so we, apparently, are the only ones who think 8 pounds, 15 ounces is pixie sized.)

Welcome, Colt. We're delighted that you're finally here...no one perhaps as much as your sister.

Time Flies...

Apparently, time flies both when you're having fun and when you're desperately trying to keep you head above water. I am completely shocked that it has been nearly two months since I posted anything about what all's going on around here.

Gracious. You'd think I wasn't even trying. :)

Lots of tidbits swirling around in my head...which helps no one until I sit down and write.

So... here's a little of what I've been thinking about lately.

Things I love about being pregnant (in no particular order)
1. Having kind people offer that I seem to be "all baby."
2. Being "all baby" and feeling the little bugger do flips or otherwise shift around in the middle of marathon meetings we've been having at the office.
3. Hearing my husband say that I'm beautiful.
4. Hearing my daughter say that she can't wait to be a big sister. She wants to "pat his back" every night. The other day, she pointed out that she was tired of waiting because it was really taking a long time for him to come out. Indeed, child. Truer words...truer words...
5. Having the baby "measure big" and then my doctor noting that she's not concerned because "we already know that you can push out big babies." (another time, I'll share her previous doubts on the subject...which basically turned into a dare--which I ROCKED! But, seriously, another time.)

Things I most decidedly do NOT love about being pregnant (also in no particular order)
1. Getting worried questions from random strangers about when I'm due, with the subtext screaming "Please, lady, don't have that baby in my checkout line....I'm about to go on break."

2. My wedding rings not fitting...which always makes me self-conscious in public. I technically don't care what people think, but I have a wonderful husband and father of this child, so hate to seemingly misrepresent my situation. Not that I care, of course, I'm just saying.

3. Getting unbelievably inappropriate questions from strangers. I'm immune to the "how much longer?" ones because clearly I'm pregnant and...well... see #1. I think it comes from a place of concern (if you squint). But it was the day that a woman behind the counter followed it with "So, are you getting stretch marks?" that I decided I--in fact--had a limit.

4. Being pregnant during the summer in Texas....and not for the reasons that one might think. I hate the implication that somehow 104 is hotter to me than the rest of the poor people here. That's just plain hot, folks. No matter your girth, it's hot. Let's not dwell on it. OK? Just scoot into the AC, have a tall glass of water, and be thankful that we have such options. Summer was plenty hot in Virginia withOUT central air. I've seen the other side...and I'll take this any day. Plus, I'm married to a blessed man who believes strongly that you should be comfortable in your own home. We keep our house a solid 10 degrees cooler than most people probably do.

5. Seemingly being on the verge of complications at all times. First, it was a "viability" issue because of completely imprecise due date calculation methods. Then, thyroid issues that got "hot-potatoed" for a specialist to deal with. And most recently, borderline high blood pressure. Come ON! I'd love to just ride the wave to the end without all the drama. I'm not into drama.

6. Various people offering that "there's no way you'll make it to your due date." It plants expectations, people. Natural childbirth is all about patience... not rushing things. Now, I have this little seed planted that--somehow--I'm NOT five weeks out. So, now, every week that passes, I grow more impatient when I shouldn't be starting that mess until after the imprecise due date comes and goes.

I'd say, "more later" but I doubt anyone would believe me (and I completely understand). For real, though, Bryn's been very funny lately, so I'll be posting some quotes as soon as I can.

More later...

You say Goodbye and I say Hello

Ah, blessed March. Welcome.

In our house, February is easily the craziest month of the year. It even trumps the Thanksgiving/Christmas holiday/birthday season in the fall. Growing up, we called it "busy season" because my father was a CPA--and spring tax time was always nutty for him. I'm fortunate as an adult that our family has limited that to just a month and a half in late January and most of February.

So, farewell Stock Show, farewell week-long EPA training, farewell insane project deadline, farewell pleasure-travel-alone-with-a-three-year-old-and-multiple-airplane-changes-with-only-a-2-hour-battery-life-on-the-DVD-player. It's been fun.

Also...Farewell, Pappa Gallo.

We are extremely excited to announce the sale of the first bull calf born to Rafter W. I'm sure he is going to a good home, but with four more calves coming this spring, I'm technically more interested in not having to feed him anymore. Sounds harsh probably, but we're in the business of raising cows (as Beau regularly reminds me) not bulls. So off with you.

On to the Hello's.

As mentioned. Hello, March. Hello, beautiful weather. Hello, time to work on household projects. Hello, Beau's raise and grade increase.

And hello to our newest addition to Rafter W. Check out the adorable family picture. Daddy (Coat 45) on the left, Momma (Adell) on the right, and the presently unnamed (other than the uninspired "87") heifer in the middle. Ah, aren't little baby things so cute.

And speaking of little baby things....I'm fairly confident that only people who know this already read this blog (assuming that ANYONE still reads it given how sporadically I contribute to it), Beau and I are expecting a little baby thing this fall--mid to late September to be exact. So, farewell slight-but-constant-nausea in the evenings and hello second trimester.