Thursday, December 25, 2008
Merry Christmas!
Happy Holidays from Oklahoma!
We arrived late last night after an already busy week of celebrating.
Monday: Mr. P's family came over for dinner and to exchange gifts. Kiddle doesn't yet grasp the concept of Christmas, but he certainly got into the idea of opening presents.
Tuesday: Kiddle's Hanukkah party at preschool. Shockingly he actually tried a potato latke, even though he was mostly interested in sucking the applesauce off it.
Wednesday morning: Santa came a day early to our house. Kiddle came down the stairs and saw all his gifts laid out: "Wow. Wow. Wow." Too cute. He also thought getting gifts out of his stocking was pretty cool. One item was a tiny Slinky in a box. He pulled it out and said, "Oooh, a box. A box." It's the simple things at that age, isn't it?
Wednesday afternoon: I finally packed and we headed out to brave the crowds at Newark airport. And it was a total disaster, as expected. We totally thought we were in the clear for our 3:00 flight -- unlike everyone else in the terminal, snicker, snicker -- until they announced at 2:15 that our plane hadn't yet left Halifax. Um, you didn't know that a little earlier? We finally got out of there sometime after 7:00. Six hours in an ultra-crowded airport with a two-year-old? So much Christmas cheer.
Needless to say we were thrilled to finally get here. We had our traditional white-trash Christmas morning breakfast of monkey bread, bacon wraps and sausage balls -- yum! And Kiddle and Cooper opened one million more presents. It's hard to say, but I think his favourite gift might just be his Cars Mack truck/race car launcher. Pretty cool.
We arrived late last night after an already busy week of celebrating.
Monday: Mr. P's family came over for dinner and to exchange gifts. Kiddle doesn't yet grasp the concept of Christmas, but he certainly got into the idea of opening presents.
Tuesday: Kiddle's Hanukkah party at preschool. Shockingly he actually tried a potato latke, even though he was mostly interested in sucking the applesauce off it.
Wednesday morning: Santa came a day early to our house. Kiddle came down the stairs and saw all his gifts laid out: "Wow. Wow. Wow." Too cute. He also thought getting gifts out of his stocking was pretty cool. One item was a tiny Slinky in a box. He pulled it out and said, "Oooh, a box. A box." It's the simple things at that age, isn't it?
Wednesday afternoon: I finally packed and we headed out to brave the crowds at Newark airport. And it was a total disaster, as expected. We totally thought we were in the clear for our 3:00 flight -- unlike everyone else in the terminal, snicker, snicker -- until they announced at 2:15 that our plane hadn't yet left Halifax. Um, you didn't know that a little earlier? We finally got out of there sometime after 7:00. Six hours in an ultra-crowded airport with a two-year-old? So much Christmas cheer.
Needless to say we were thrilled to finally get here. We had our traditional white-trash Christmas morning breakfast of monkey bread, bacon wraps and sausage balls -- yum! And Kiddle and Cooper opened one million more presents. It's hard to say, but I think his favourite gift might just be his Cars Mack truck/race car launcher. Pretty cool.
Monday, December 22, 2008
And introducing ...
... the newest, extra-little kiddle.
19 weeks and 4 days. Right on target, size-wise. And has all his fingers, toes and body parts. We couldn't have asked for a better report.
And that's right ... I said HIS. Kiddle's getting a baby brother. I'll admit there's a tiny twinge of oh-I-won't-ever-have-a-girl-itis, but mostly I'm somewhat relieved.
And my favourite part of this ultrasound? I had to schedule my appointment on a day the doctor would be there, because I'm of "advanced maternal age." Lovely.
19 weeks and 4 days. Right on target, size-wise. And has all his fingers, toes and body parts. We couldn't have asked for a better report.And that's right ... I said HIS. Kiddle's getting a baby brother. I'll admit there's a tiny twinge of oh-I-won't-ever-have-a-girl-itis, but mostly I'm somewhat relieved.
And my favourite part of this ultrasound? I had to schedule my appointment on a day the doctor would be there, because I'm of "advanced maternal age." Lovely.
Saturday, December 20, 2008
What are you doing? Are you PEEING?
Remember how fascinated with the Christmas tree I said Kiddle was? Apparently he felt the need to mark his territory.
Friday, December 19, 2008
Oh Christmas Tree ...
Finally got the tree up today. I seriously thought about doing it Thanksgiving weekend, so of course here we are on December 19th. It turned out to be the perfect day to do it though. We we're absolutely slammed by a snow storm this morning. I went to the mall just as it was starting to snow and when I came out 45 minutes later there were already several inches on the ground. It took an hour and a half to make the 10 minute drive home. Crazy! So we took Kiddle's babysitter home early and snugged in for the afternoon to get the tree up.
Kiddle was fascinated by the whole process and did a great job hanging ornaments. The battle this year isn't going to be over taking ornaments off and on; it's about turning the lights off and on. I see a zillion time-outs in his near future.
Kiddle was fascinated by the whole process and did a great job hanging ornaments. The battle this year isn't going to be over taking ornaments off and on; it's about turning the lights off and on. I see a zillion time-outs in his near future.
Thursday, December 18, 2008
Boy or girl? Yes!
Next Monday is my full anatomy ultrasound, and hopefully we'll be able to find out the sex of this new kiddo. Although I'm not certain "we" will find out because I'm not sure if Mr. P wants to know.* But I definitely do ... I'm too much of a planner to let it be a surprise.
My sister asked me the other day if I had a feeling one way or the other. If I base it on comparing the two pregnancies, I'd say boy. This pregnancy is exactly like my first one so far, but I'm also smart enough to know that doesn't mean squat. (We were so convinced my friend Chrissy was having a girl the second time that I went out and bought her girl clothes. Nope. An even bigger boy than the first one.) But I find myself mentally referring to the baby as "her" -- and with Kiddle it was always "him."
I guess I don't really have any strong preferences one way or the other. Before Kiddle I only saw myself having girls, but now I find myself waffling.
GIRL PROS: much cuter clothes, the relationship with a girl is just totally different than with a boy, my parents would have a granddaughter instead of only grandsons.
GIRL CONS: the teenage years, it seems scarier to raise a girl in this day and age than it does a boy, and, oh God, will I have to play house and dress-up and dolls?
BOY PROS: I already have all the clothes, I'm used to boys now, Kiddle will have a brother -- and I so appreciate that I have a sister.
BOY CONS: I won't ever have a daughter. Or the cute clothes that go with her.
Of course, the baby has to actually cooperate at the ultrasound. Kiddle was all legs splayed, check me out, look at my boy stuff. So no doubt there. We'll see if this one is as open or plays it a little coy.
* Funny story actually. With Kiddle, Mr. P wasn't sure if he wanted to know so we decided he would leave the room during that portion of the ultrasound. Now, we never really thought we'd make it four more months without him finding out, but that it would be fun to see how long we could go.
As it turns out -- four days.
Mr. P's sister got married that weekend and during dinner one of his relatives asked me if we had decided on a name. "Oh yes," I replied, "it's (insert obvious boy name here)," with so much certainty that I couldn't even cover by adding "if it's a boy and Blah Blah if it's a girl." The table got deathly quiet as everyone realized what I had done. And Mr. P got the biggest smile on his face. More from glee that I had busted myself so quickly, I think, than from happiness that it was a boy. And I promptly burst into tears.
Now, as a pregnant chick, I wasn't particularly hormonal. I didn't cry every day, or over tiny things, like some of my friends have. But if I got started crying, I simply couldn't stop. Mr. P finally had to lead me by the hand, blindly blubbering, out of the reception. And it took a good 20 minutes for me to stop sobbing. In the end though I was glad he found out from me, rather than from one of the 8 trillion people who already knew. I would have missed seeing the look on his face if someone else had slipped up. But, damn that glass of wine at dinner! Four days? That's all it took?
My sister asked me the other day if I had a feeling one way or the other. If I base it on comparing the two pregnancies, I'd say boy. This pregnancy is exactly like my first one so far, but I'm also smart enough to know that doesn't mean squat. (We were so convinced my friend Chrissy was having a girl the second time that I went out and bought her girl clothes. Nope. An even bigger boy than the first one.) But I find myself mentally referring to the baby as "her" -- and with Kiddle it was always "him."
I guess I don't really have any strong preferences one way or the other. Before Kiddle I only saw myself having girls, but now I find myself waffling.
GIRL PROS: much cuter clothes, the relationship with a girl is just totally different than with a boy, my parents would have a granddaughter instead of only grandsons.
GIRL CONS: the teenage years, it seems scarier to raise a girl in this day and age than it does a boy, and, oh God, will I have to play house and dress-up and dolls?
BOY PROS: I already have all the clothes, I'm used to boys now, Kiddle will have a brother -- and I so appreciate that I have a sister.
BOY CONS: I won't ever have a daughter. Or the cute clothes that go with her.
Of course, the baby has to actually cooperate at the ultrasound. Kiddle was all legs splayed, check me out, look at my boy stuff. So no doubt there. We'll see if this one is as open or plays it a little coy.
* Funny story actually. With Kiddle, Mr. P wasn't sure if he wanted to know so we decided he would leave the room during that portion of the ultrasound. Now, we never really thought we'd make it four more months without him finding out, but that it would be fun to see how long we could go.
As it turns out -- four days.
Mr. P's sister got married that weekend and during dinner one of his relatives asked me if we had decided on a name. "Oh yes," I replied, "it's (insert obvious boy name here)," with so much certainty that I couldn't even cover by adding "if it's a boy and Blah Blah if it's a girl." The table got deathly quiet as everyone realized what I had done. And Mr. P got the biggest smile on his face. More from glee that I had busted myself so quickly, I think, than from happiness that it was a boy. And I promptly burst into tears.
Now, as a pregnant chick, I wasn't particularly hormonal. I didn't cry every day, or over tiny things, like some of my friends have. But if I got started crying, I simply couldn't stop. Mr. P finally had to lead me by the hand, blindly blubbering, out of the reception. And it took a good 20 minutes for me to stop sobbing. In the end though I was glad he found out from me, rather than from one of the 8 trillion people who already knew. I would have missed seeing the look on his face if someone else had slipped up. But, damn that glass of wine at dinner! Four days? That's all it took?
Wednesday, December 17, 2008
First snow of the year
Well, the first one that (kind of) amounted to anything anyway. And, if you believe the weather forecasters, it sounds like we're in for it later this week.
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