Better Than A Tanning Bed

I did it. I had the baby. Just kidding.

I found a way to lay out while pregnant. A while back I blogged about how I was going to cut a hole in a lawn chair so I could tan the back of my body while pregnant. I stole some really, really old lawn chairs from my mom's house but when I got home to cut them up, I just couldn't bring myself to do it. Not because the chairs were too good looking to cut up (they were so ugly they were begging me to take the scissors to them), but because it just seemed too ghetto for even me.

But, today, I finally got bored enough and desperate enough to make it happen. I headed to my sister's house so she could watch the little ones (and her backyard is sunny, mine is shady) and while the boys played:



I cut:



I was really doing that beauty a favor by cutting it up. The only problem was that I guessed my belly would go in the center, but I really should have cut it a little more towards the top; my feet hung off the end a bit. It was still great to lay on my stomach. The baby thought it was fun too, he was going nuts kicking around.



We were laughing pretty hard once I tried it out. This is the only picture I'm posting because it's a close up. The others show too much of my white and whaleish body to be showing off to the general public. I like to keep my scariness for family and friends only.

I have to admit, while extremely white trash, it's a pretty good solution. It also makes for some good laughs. Plus, I now have another place to lay while on bedrest. I may be getting fatter and fatter, but at least it'll be a tan fat, right?

The Big Move

I wish this was a post about us moving to a new house. It's not. But it is about my little guy moving to a new bed. That's just about as exciting, right?

My goal was to have Ben in a big boy bed by the end of May. The planner in me wanted him to get used to a bed before the baby came and stole his crib. May didn't happen so I pushed it back to the end of June. It's how things roll around here. After John caught Ben swinging in and out of the crib like a monkey, we decided the sooner the better. Knowing that tonight was the night, and because I'm abnormally cheesy and sentimental these days, I had to take a picture of Ben's last morning in his crib. Plus, his hair was looking exceptionally good this morning. What can I say, he gets his bedhead from me. (That and he's about two months too late for a haircut. Gotta get on that...)



Ben's been dying to cut open the bed box for weeks (we didn't get the bed put together until June, but it's been sitting in a box in the playroom since May). He was super excited to help dad put it together, but he had even more fun taking the crib apart. The whole time he was helping he kept saying, "I'm a worker guy." He's really going through a manual labor phase right now...



After we got it all set up and the bed made, we did a little reading...



And then it was time for bed. He seemed a little nervous when we tucked him in, but he went right down.



I can't believe my little baby is in a big boy bed. It seems like such a big step to me. Plus, I'm worried that because he's not caged in anymore it'll be the end of naps. I guess we'll see tomorrow. Cross your fingers for me!

My Pity Party

Are you so sick of hearing about this pregnancy? It seems like it's all I blog about. I would say I'm just as sick of actually being pregnant, but given yesterday's news, everyday I continue to be pregnant, I'm happy.

I went to the doctor's a couple weeks ago because I'd been having some contractions. I'm crampy almost daily, which I wasn't too concerned about, but I'd had a few episodes of really distinct contractions that lasted for a couple hours so I thought I'd go in just to be safe. My doctor checked me and assured me I was fine, wasn't dilating and that the progesterone injections were and should do their job. But, because I keep having contractions, and because the injections aren't 100% guaranteed, she wanted to start fetal fibronectin tests (a test that will tell you if you have a chance of going into labor in the next two weeks) at 24 weeks.

Yesterday was my appointment and I got the test done. I haven't been nearly as crampy in the last couple weeks and I haven't had any serious contractions, so I was expecting good results. It came back positive though (which for this test is bad news) and my doctor put me on "moderate" bedrest. When I asked what things I shouldn't be doing, she pretty much named everything: cooking, cleaning, sex, walking, lifting. Sounds just like regular bedrest to me.

I've been having some major mom guilt over this. So far through this pregnancy, Ben has been my first priority. Even with cramps and contractions, I've felt like I need to take care of Ben first. He's real and alive and standing right in front of me, and I need to take care of him. I've just assumed that the baby will be fine and if I can take it, he can take it. I thought we'd just been sucking it up together. So now I'm having mom guilt over not taking better care of myself to ensure nothing would go wrong with the baby. Add to that the guilt of now not being able to take care of Ben like I feel like I should. I'm a big ball of hormonal guilt.

I'm lucky I have family nearby and so many people that love Ben; I know he'll be well taken care of for however long I'm on bedrest. But I'm his mom and I want to be the one taking care of him. Today is the first day he's been gone and I just know he's having the time of his life. And I know he'll have the best summer having playdates every single day, but I miss him. I'm selfish and I hate the thought of just sitting here doing nothing while he's out there having fun. I want to watch him have fun.

I'm sorry this sounds like such pathetic melodrama. I go back in next week and I'm hoping she'll redo the test. I'm not really sure how the test works, but I'm crossing my fingers it'll come back negative. In the meantime, John's rearranged his work schedule so he'll be home in the afternoons and I have family to watch Ben in the mornings. Plus, it's only temporary; it's just one summer. It's really not so bad. I'm just freakishly hormonal right now and I'm gonna miss not having my little buddy around.

I don't know what I'm going to do when he starts preschool. I'll just know I'll have a nervous breakdown.

Grossed Out

I got home a few minutes ago and while I was taking my sleeping boy out of the car to put him down for a nap, my neighbor came over to share some news. I could tell by the look on his face it wasn't going to be good. He said he and my other neighbor were both outside and saw something that looked like a giant squirrel run out of my backyard and across the street to where he lives. When the thing got closer to his house they both realized it wasn't a squirrel but a huge rat. This is where the story takes a dire turn. The disgusting rat then turned around and ran back into my yard, under my car and disappeared.

My skin is crawling. There is a monster-sized rodent living in my yard, possibly my garage. My yard and garage that my two-year old plays in daily. HOURLY! I'm freaking just a bit. But it's totally justifiable. When we were living in our last apartment, I woke up one night to nurse Ben (he was still little) and on my way to the couch, I felt something soft brush against my BAREFOOT, so I kicked it out the way. At first I thought I'd just missed picking up all the toys the night before. But I don't forget to pick up toys. At least not the toys I know I could step on in the dark on my way to the couch. So I turned on the light and it was a DEAD MOUSE. I screamed bloody murder, naturally. I freaked both Ben and John out and both were extremely pissed. Ben was crying because I was crying and John was freaking because he thought Ben had died during the night or something. It was pretty bad. It still gives me nightmares.

But back to today. After I put Ben down I got online asap and told John. While I was talking to him, my active imagination really started to wander to where this monster's been and where in the yard he lives. I'm sure his fat ratty body has touched all of Ben's toys. And what if he can get into our house? We all sleep in the basement! What if in a few months I get up to nurse #2 and I sit on a squirrel-sized rat?! I told John this, but unfortunately, he wasn't feeling my horror. This was his exact quote: "There is no way there are rats in our house, you're just freaking out to freak out. You love that stuff."

Pretty sure I'm freaking out because I DON'T love that stuff. It's gross.

He assured me we'd find where the little sucker lives and then take care of him and his little ratty family (where there's a mama rat, baby rats are sure to be). Then he said, "There are rats all over sugarhouse if that makes you feel any better."

Um, no, John, that doesn't make me feel better. And then to add insult to injury, and because he can't resist grossing me out, he sent me this:



Why do bad rodents always happen to good people? I'm a really clean person! This should not keep happening to me. Rodents do not have a reason or my permission to be living in or on my property!

Married to the Mann

It's John and my sixth anniversary today. Yay us! To celebrate, I'd like to share a conversation we had late, late at night.


John: Do you ever feel like that transgender man that keeps having babies is stealing your thunder?

Me: No. Why would I think that?

John: Because he's not really a man. You are a Mann having a baby.

Me: (I stop to look at him. I see that he's dead serious. I start laughing really hard-it was VERY late at night.)

John: (Pauses to think.) You're not the first Mann to ever have a baby; there was my mom, and my grandma. But you're still a real Mann having a baby.



Here's hoping we have many more conversations that make absolutely no sense like this in the future. I love you, John Mann!

Where Is My Mind?

Do you think a two year old who can change his own poopy diaper is ready to be potty trained?

Why has my uterus been acting so messed up towards me? I have a uterus that doesn't like having anything inside of it. That was the official diagnosis my doctor gave me.

Speaking of uteruses, they have these new tests you can take starting at 24 weeks that will tell you if you'll be going into preterm labor within the next two weeks. Isn't that the craziest thing you've ever heard? I start the tests at my next appointment.

You know those woman who have terrible pregnancies and are either sick to death the whole time or are on bedrest the whole time, but they keep having kids anyway because pregnancy is temporary but kids last forever? I'm not one of those woman. Pretty sure I'm done after this.

I keep having sniper dreams. I'm usually at my parent's house in the dream and my dad is usually going after the bad guy in his undies. Obviously they're nightmares for more than one reason.

It's my anniversary on Friday (the big S-I-X). This year John gave me an envelope full of cash and told me it was my year to plan. He usually takes care of things and does a mighty fine job of it. I'm horrible at planning special occasions. We're gonna end up bowling, I just know it.

I stole an old lawn lounge chair from my mom's house with the intention of cutting a hole in the middle so I can lay on my stomach to tan this summer (swear on my life I didn't come up with that idea on my own). I just don't think I can bring myself to do it. Me, the girl born and raised as white trash as they come. But how else am I suppose to tan the back of my body?

I've got the restless legs. I think it's because my hips are starting to spread. Wonderful. I need to go walk around now.

The Half Way Mark

Yay, I am finally 20 weeks! This baby is officially half cooked. We had the 20 week ultrasound today and both the nurse and doctor started laughing when they were greeted with this on the screen:



I was given a pretty good promise it's a boy. A boy more than willing to give mommy and daddy the money shot. (Sorry if you're offended by the thereness of the picture; there wasn't a more discreet one available. I also kinda think it's funny.) He was not very willing to sit still for measuring, which meant I got to chill on the bed and watch my little one wiggle on the big screen for almost an hour. It was really starting to annoy the nurse and doctor, who got a bit rough with the belly trying to get him to cooperate. He's a little on the small side, but other than that, he's just perfect.

I did my second progesterone shot the other day and it didn't hurt nearly as bad as the first one. I had it injected in my bum and I think the meatier area helps a lot. I knew that extra junk in my trunk would someday come in handy.

Since I have a total of four pictures of myself pregnant with Ben, I wanted to document the pregnancy more this time around. I'm half way done, and I've taken a whooping three pictures. Better than last time though. Here's the belly a couple of days ago:



I've decided the further back you put the camera, the better off you feel about yourself. I'll be taking all my pictures this way from now on.

There you have it. Ben gets a little buddy and I don't have to buy much. Win-win all around!

Dear 17 Alpha-Hydroxyprogesterone,

Thank you for almost making my arm fall off.

My doctor highly recommended I inject you into my body to prevent a preterm labor I may or may not have. I'm glad I have a doctor who is concerned about the condition of a past pregnancy and is taking action against possible bedrest. I like that in a doctor. I did my own research on your product, and with no bigger warnings than "pain at the injection site," thought, I'll give it a try.

I grew a little concerned when I was told I'd be given two different needle sizes, a larger one for sucking up the medicine and a smaller one for injecting the medicine. I was instructed not to use the injection needle to suck up the medicine because it was so thick it'd dull the needle (this is with using new needles for every injection).

Sounded bad, but I wasn't too worried. I'm not exactly a stranger to needles; I don't love them, but I can handle them. I think most women who have given birth can handle them, whether they want to or not. Add to giving birth a serious surgery and all the blood donating and needles that goes with it and you could say I've been poked a time or two. But nothing in my previous needle-loving history has come close to pain of this shot. It has now been four hours and I'm just barely regaining the mobility of my arm (with the help of a heating pad).

Thank you for strengthening my uterus walls so I won't again start dilating at 30 weeks. But seriously, could your oil based product be any thicker? I'll answer that for you. No, because if it was any thicker, it'd be mashed potatoes.

You hurt my heart and you hurt my arm,
Liz

Fabulous Fun Finds

I was blog stalking today and found the cutest website, Fabulous Fun Finds. I was going to send the link just to my sisters, with what I'm going to talk them into making me, but I thought I'd share it with the world instead (or the 5 of you who read this blog). There is too much cute stuff on there. A lot of it looks almost easy to try to do yourself, too. Or if you have really crafty sisters, you could see if they'd make it for you...

If this next baby is a girl, I really want this dress:


Either gender would look so cute in a knit hat like this for the winter:


And don't you think I could get away with using this handbag as a diaper bag??


There was so much other cute stuff, including pillowcase dresses and wall decals. It's a great place to get DIY ideas. For sure if you have kids, you have to check it out. Way too cute. How do people come up with this stuff?

My Favorite Little Mann

Feels like it's been a while since I did a post on Ben, so I'm doing one now. I know I've said this at every stage so far, but seriously, two year olds are my favorite. They're just the funniest little creatures.

Ben has one major passion in life. Lawn mowers. This passion began last summer when John taught him how to mow lawns at his mom's house. It's a passion that is continually being fueled by a dad who will spend hours of his free time watching youtube videos with Ben of people mowing lawns. If that isn't a patient and loving dad, I don't know what is. He also takes Ben to the Home Depot or Sears every weekend so Ben can indulge in his favorite pastime. That boy could spend every waking second next to a lawn mower. It kills me.

Thankfully, he also has some backup passions. He's really into sports, babies, motorcycles and cleaning (turns out he does have a bit of me in him after all).

I've always been one of those people who prefers to clean by myself. I'd rather the boys get lost (hence the Saturday morning lawn mowers addiction) so I can do things my way and clean in peace. But because of that I was always afraid my kids wouldn't learn how to pick up after themselves. Apparently I do enough everyday chores for Ben to catch on. He loves to help with the dishes, vacuum, dust, fold laundry and sweep. He's quite the little helper.

He likes to clean with his shirt off. It makes him feel manly.

Ben's love of sports is another passion that is fueled by John. I'm always so glad I married someone who genuinely loves being a dad. I don't know what I would do without him! I might just be forced to watch youtube or play endless rounds of catch. The horror. Just kidding. But I am so thankful for John. Last night the Cubs were playing (or so I heard, I wasn't watching) so John dressed Ben for bed accordingly. Ben added his favorite hat as a special touch.


Ben has such a soft spot for babies. He's really excited to get his own this fall. For now, he's making do with his little cousin Macy. He loves to feed her bottles or just sit and cuddle. I hope he still loves them this much when he's forced to share mommy and daddy.


I wouldn't have guessed that two year old boys care what they wear, but this one does. He has a favorite outfit that he insists on wearing. It's a sweatshirt with the sleeves pushed all the way to his elbows and snow boots that are a size too small. The snow boots he puts on himself, on the wrong feet, the sides wide open, with his pants scrunched on top. It's the ugliest outfit and he looks so homeless in it, but the boy loves it. I still cringe when he grabs for it, but I stopped fighting him on it months ago.


That Benny really is my favorite kid. He's hilarious, he's energetic, cuddly, caring. He's the very best!