Happy Birthday, my love!

It's Mr. P's 40th birthday today ... and I have to admit I haven't done much about it. But I have sooo many reasons why. Ready?

One. Anything he wants, he buys. So it makes it nearly impossible to come up with a good birthday or Christmas gift for him. Especially one he doesn't know about, because 99% of what he wants is very tech-oriented, making his participation in the selection process mandatory. In the past I've gotten him tickets to various events, but this year nothing stood out as something he would enjoy.

Two. We come from two different schools of thought on birthdays. That's not to say that I need outrageous gifts or a big party on my birthday, but I do like some acknowledgement and thought-through planning. He's not into the whole birthday-celebration-thing in general, and is really not into the details (i.e., one of my first birthdays with him ... an unwrapped season of Buffy and NO CARD), which has slowly dampened my enthusiasm over the years. Otherwise known as If-He-Doesn't-Care-Why-Should-I Syndrome.

Three. That said, I did throw him a surprise party (well, ALMOST a surprise ... thanks for busting it, Mr. Weeden. Yeah, I'm talking to you, Dan.) a couple of years ago. And I did it then partially because I suspected that, by the time his 40th rolled around, we'd have two small children and I might not get my act together. Self-fulfilling prophecy, I suppose.

Four. I thought we would have moved by now. And originally I had grand ideas of flying out a couple of his best friends to wherever we might be to celebrate, or at least sending him back home for a fun boys' weekend. But we're still here. And it doesn't seem quite as exciting to send him to Long Island from New Jersey for the weekend.

Five. I'm a cheapskate. Well, not really. But I am in regards to the fact that we're still looking at an out-of-state move in the (hopefully) relatively near future. All I can think of is the stuff we'll need when we have a bigger house, and I'd much rather get him a giant TV or create him a cave/office when the time is right, instead of spending money now on something he doesn't really need.

Six. And this is the biggest reason ... I suck. I hate that I'm so disorganized and scattered and uninventive right now that I didn't get it together to do something lovely and special for his 40th birthday. Particularly because he did such a nice job of planning dinner out with my friends and taking me to a play for my birthday. Hopefully I can make it up to him before his next birthday. After all, he's 40 all year, right?

Happy Birthday Grandpa!

In a happy coincidence of events, Mr. P flew back in to LaGuardia this afternoon AND it's his dad's birthday, so I packed up the boys and met everyone in Queens for a little birthday celebration.

The not so happy part was that Kiddle fell asleep on the way over there. Normally that would be a positive thing since he still really can't handle going out to dinner without a nap. But this was one of those impossible-to-wake-up-from slumbers and, once he was finally up and relatively coherent, he was a completely grumpy-to-the-point-of-embarrassment BEAR. His immediate reaction to any and everything was "NOOOOOO!!!!" He seemed to have forgotten that he hadn't seen his dad in three days. And I had to drag him into the restaurant while he protested loudly that he wanted to stay OUTSIDE, MAMA!

Back to the positive side, at least we were at a tiny, neighborhood restaurant where Mr. P's parents are regulars (and Mr. P worked at in high school). And since we were there at 4:30 (yes, I said 4:30!), we were literally the only customers. There was absolutely no way Kiddle was going to sit at the table without a meltdown, so I finally just left him lying on floor by the front door. Eventually he got over himself and managed to join us for a bit.

I'm a firm believer that kids need to learn how to act properly in public. Although, I'll admit we've been debating if we should start bringing his little Leapster game while we're out to eat. CON: he's not gaining any dinner time skills; PRO: he's quiet, sitting in his seat, and I can actually enjoy my food. So it was more than a bit mortifying to have such an ill-behaved kid, but at that point I simply didn't care and I didn't want to turn Grandpa's birthday dinner into a major scene.

At least there weren't many witnesses.

Happy Easter!

Kiddle still has no concept of the Easter Bunny ... but he loves what the Easter Bunny brings him! We had an unfortunately-indoors-due-to-the-pouring-rain egg hunt for him and his two best buds yesterday. They were hysterical racing around to gather their eggs (so glad Kiddle and I practiced ahead of time!) and they loved opening each one to find a little treasure. He definitely gets the concept of "treats." For dinner last night, I finally put his blueberries in an egg, just so he'd stop asking for a treat. And, fortunately, it did the trick.

We spent the day today in Queens, having Easter dinner with Mr. P's family. And the birthday presents kept coming ... a new backpack, a new puzzle and some sticker books. More cake and — the best part — another round of "Happy Birthday" and candles.

The party continues ...

Today Kiddle celebrated his birthday at school. Figuring that the kiddos (and teachers) might be a bit cupcake'd out after LK's and Mabel and Liam's birthdays the last two weeks, I took tiny little ice cream cups. And the ice cream was a big hit, I think.

He's really into the singing of the birthday song now, and definitely knows it's for him. I love this clip because he had adamantly refused to put on his special birthday crown moments before — until the singing starts and he quickly changes his tune. "Oh, it's MY birthday? Quick! Where's my crown?"

Happy Birthday Kiddle!

Three years old today! It's hard to believe. (And, yes, I know I said that last year and will continue to say it every year of his life. As my mom still does about me!)

We had a birthday party for him at the house yesterday. I admit it was somewhat last minute, because eons ago I thought we might be moving before his birthday, so I had pretty much put party planning out of my head. I finally realized a few weeks before that it might be a good idea to do some celebrating, especially considering that the imminent arrival of a major life disruption is looming.

But, despite my procrastination, it all came together quite well. The theme was Old McDonald's Farm since he's still obsessed with animals. The kiddos wore cowboy hats, decorated farm-animal-shaped cookies (made from scratch by me, thankyouverymuch), sang a spirited version of "Old McDonald" complete with cow, horse, pig and duck visors, and, of course, had the staples of three-year-old birthday parties — pizza and cupcakes. I kept the guest list tiny — just LK, Jack, Mabel and Liam, plus Grandpa, Grandma and all the parents — mostly to keep the cookie decorating manageable. Kiddle had a fantastic time and really seems to be grasping the "birthday" concept.

Today has been pretty low-key. We spread out the gift opening by tying a helium balloon to a gift every couple of hours and sending him off to look for it. He got lots of puzzles, books, a giant John Deere tractor and wagon, a new backpack, a kid-size wheelbarrow and a BIKE. (Well, one of the pedal-less ones so he can learn to balance.)

So, it's been a pretty successful birthday weekend so far with still more to come: a celebration at preschool on Tuesday, then one last chance to blow out the candles with Mr. P's family at Easter dinner next weekend.

Happy birthday, my little one! I love you more than words can describe.

Three Years Ago Today: Kiddle's BIRTHday!

Wednesday. It's well after midnight and this kid is NOT coming out.

I'd been pushing since 9:00. He definitely had the cool 04/05/06 birthday at this point, but you know what would be even cooler? If he was born at 1:23 on 4/5/06. Something to aim for ... and miss, as we blew right past the time.

Finally, it was decision time. Keep going or c-section? We decided it was best just to get the kid out. He obviously wasn't going to cooperate, even after almost six hours of pushing. I was amazed at how quickly things moved once we made the decision. And at 3:24 am, Kiddle arrived into the world. All 8 1/2 pounds of him.

Happy birthday, little one!

Snow in April, just for your birthday.

And, finally, after 3 1/2 days of jaundice and low blood sugar for him, and hormonal crying jags and super swollen feet for me ... we were on our way home.

And those boxes of work stuff I shipped home to organize? They're still in my attic, untouched and, since no one came looking for the stuff, apparently unnecessary.

Three Years Ago Today: April 4th

Tuesday. The induction is underway.

We met Elizabeth at the hospital the night before. To keep the TMI level down, I'll just say the first step is a procedure to help get my pregnant parts ready to go. Fortunately it doesn't involve me doing anything; just hanging out and trying to get some sleep. Although I did start having some small contractions early in the morning, so after that, sleep was hard to come by.

I should take a moment here to say how wonderful it was working with my midwives — Barbara and Elizabeth. (An extra side note: Barbara is originally from OKC and attended Putnam City before West or North existed.) One of the main reasons I chose to go that route instead of an obstetrician was the personal care you receive throughout the labor process. And their relationship with the hospital staff came into play from the very beginning for me: I was not going to get along with my nurse. Mrs. Green.

Ah, Mrs. Green. If only I knew your first name. Old school, old school, old school. Our first clash was seconds after we walked into my room and she couldn't understand why I wanted to wear my own gown instead of a hospital gown. (Do you realize how long I could be here before I have this baby, Mrs. Green?) Then she whips out a needle to stick an IV in my arm and I had the NERVE to question her. (Barbara had specifically told me I didn't need an IV through this first stage. And once you have that IV your mobility is much more restricted.) Through gritted teeth, she agreed to hold off until Elizabeth arrived. And, of course, no IV was confirmed once she got there. Thankfully, Elizabeth was able to switch me to a different nurse. Thank you, sweet Elizabeth. I would have had a needle in my arm all night and my ass hanging out if I'd been with an OB instead of a midwife.

So other than some minor contractions, not much was happening. I was able to take a shower (no IV, thankyouverymuch) and have a bit of breakfast before the real induction started -- a pitocin drip around 10:00 that morning. But that pitocin is some powerful stuff. Over the course of the morning and early afternoon, my contractions were getting incredibly painful. I kept asking Elizabeth, "If I was laboring at home would you have sent me to the hospital yet?" And she kept answering, "No, not yet." Sweet Jesus!

My original plan had been to use the birthing center at the hospital — which means no epidural. Insanely, or perhaps ignorantly, enough I still wanted to see if I could make it through the birth drug-free. And I lasted a good long while. Even Elizabeth seemed impressed. But, I'll tell you, getting induced HURTS. Pitocin is some nasty stuff. And it got even worse after she manually broke my water. By 5:00 I couldn't take it anymore. We did one more check and found that I was still only dilated to 5cm. Bring on the drugs! NOW! And by 5:30 I was in heaven.

Epidurals are amazing. I still wish I could have avoided it, but I couldn't believe the difference. I went from incredible agony to bliss in moments. I even slept for a bit. And, around 9:00, Barbara had arrived to relieve Elizabeth, I was FINALLY dilated to 10cm, so we decided I could start pushing.

Mr. P and I had joked when we arrived at the hospital the night before that it was too bad I'd have the baby on April 4th, instead of April 5th ... it would be much cooler for his birthday to be 04-05-06.

Little did we know.

Three Years Ago Today: April 1st

Saturday. Just over two weeks until my due date.

I got up that morning feeling like a truck had run over me. I had a splitting headache. I was nauseous. And my entire abdomen was cramping in wave after excruciating wave. Surely this couldn't be labor, could it? It just didn't feel right. Then Mr. P, who had been out all night at a job site, came home. Feeling the exact same way.

Aha! Stomach flu.

I knew I should touch base with my midwife. She was at the hospital with another client and wanted me to come in just to get checked out, so we headed into Manhattan. Along the way we stopped for some orange juice, because I hadn't eaten that day and I'd heard horror stories about being urged into giving birth early because of blood counts that could have been fixed with a little food. I started drinking the juice just after we came out of the Lincoln Tunnel and by the time we pulled up to the hospital at 58th & 10th, I was barfing into a plastic bag.

Definitely the stomach flu.

TRIP COUNT: 3

Up in the maternity triage, the baby and all my vitals checked out fine, thank goodness. So they simply hooked me up to an IV for a couple of hours to make sure I didn't get dehydrated. Boy, IVs can do wonders! I felt significantly better by the time we left there. We stocked up on Gatorade and ginger ale and spent the rest of the weekend recovering.

But don't forget about poor Mr. P. He was suffering, too, and had been awake all night. But since he wasn't pregnant ... no IV for you, sir! He spent the two hours feeling like total hell and trying to sleep on the cold, hard floor next to my bed in the tiny, tiny triage bay. The next day I was all perky and raring to go, while he still wanted to curl into a ball and die.

Moral of the story? It's simple. Don't get the stomach flu two weeks before your due date. And don't get the stomach flu two weeks before your wife's due date. Neither of us recommend it.

The Story of Thomas's Birth, or How Many Prenatal Trips Can I Take into Manhattan in One Week?

In honor of Thomas's upcoming birthday, and since childbirth is on my mind and bladder, I thought I'd write down all the thrilling, and not so thrilling, details of his birth. Especially before I forget the details or start confusing them with this next kid. TMI alert! I'll apologize now for any overshare in the next few posts.

I'd had a pretty easy pregnancy. No major issues, no major cravings or aversions, not very hormonal and still moving around well. Until I had five weeks to go; then I started to fall apart. I hadn't gained a lot of weight so far, maybe 10 or 12 pounds. Then I showed up for my 35 week appointment and had gained four pounds in two weeks. Yikes. Retaining water much? From that point on, swelling definitely became more of an issue. I also started showing protein in my urine. Those are two of the indicators for preeclampsia (a serious blood pressure condition during pregnancy), but since my blood pressure was still ok, I wasn't labelled as such. Absolutely something to keep a close eye on, and the only way to solve it is to deliver the baby. Not the best option when you're still four or five weeks out from your due date.

Because of these concerns, I'd started working from home that week. But on Thursday, I had my 37 week appointment, so I also went to the office for a while — really just to pack up and ship out all the piles and piles of papers I had everywhere, so I could get organized while hanging out at home the next couple of weeks. (Or so I thought. The boxes were delivered to me on Monday just as I was leaving to go be induced.) At my appointment, my protein level was higher than it had been, so we scheduled a non-stress test at the hospital for Monday, just to make sure the baby was doing ok.

TRIP COUNT: 1

By this time, the baby appeared to be rather large. And since I had a major fear of having a 10 pound baby, preeclampsia was looming and I was into my 38th week (and past the point of having a preemie), we all agreed it was best if I could get this kid out sooner, rather than later. I had decided to try some acupuncture. Two of my good friends had been successful with acupuncture when overdue; both went into labor within 24 hours. I certainly wasn't expecting those kind of results. After all it was still two weeks before my due date, but was hopeful it could help get things moving. My first appointment was on Friday, so I headed back into the city once again.

TRIP COUNT: 2

The birthday party circuit.

Three parties, three weekends in a row. Although I know I shouldn't even slightly sound like I'm complaining, because I do know it will just get worse. After all, he only has nine kids in his preschool class (including two sets of twins) and one of those parties is his own.

Last weekend was LK's party at Kidz Village. This week we had Mabel and Liam's at MyGym. Kiddle had a great time at both, but it was a bit of an eye-opening experience for me in light of a recent conversation I had with his preschool teachers about his development. They're a little worried about him because he has a hard time focusing in a group setting, so it was interesting to see him in action during the structured vs. unstructured sections of the parties.

Unstructured ... he's fantastic. He has a blast running around, climbing and chasing his friends. Structured ... not so much. At Kelly's party, Mr. P and I had to sit by the door of the party room to keep him from heading back to the play area and he could not be bothered to join the dance party. At Mabel and Liam's party, again, he had no interest in going along with the group songs and activities. Except, of course, when they sang "Old McDonald." He was all over that, but the second the song ended? Outta there!

Happy Birthday to Me!

My favourite way to spend my birthday ... a relaxing, yummy dinner with my funny, beautiful friends. Extra birthday bonus? A certain two-year-old at home with Uncle Matty and Aunt Erin. (And if only I could have left the in vitro one behind as well. I miss alcohol! And rare tuna!)

Thanks to Belinda, Denny, Brian and Chrissy for sharing an evening with me. And thanks to Mr. P for putting it all together. You're the best!

All I want for my birthday ...

... is a damn pizza.

It's been a rather dull, bordering-on-the-depressing birthday day. OB appointment with a glucose test. Planned to go home and do some yoga before picking up Kiddle at school. But his teacher called while I was waiting to have my blood drawn and basically said he was disgustingly snotty, please come get him. Scratch the yoga.

Mr. P had to drive to Connecticut today, but thought he'd be home by 6:00. I called to check on his progress at 5:40 and learned he was up by Woodbury Commons -- a solid hour from here, longer during the evening rush. And he still has to go by the office. Scratch dinner and him putting the kid to bed.

I perked up a bit when I decided to order myself a stuffed-crust pepperoni pizza from Pizza Hut. Something I love, but rarely get because Mr. P has the typical New Yorker's disdain for chain pizza places. But then I found out they can't deliver right now. Scratch the pizza.

So I'll have to settle for a few spoonfuls of chocolate frosting right out of the jar. Yum.

***

Before you think this is the saddest birthday ever, there is some celebrating in the works. Dinner in the city tomorrow. Somewhere, with some people is all I know. I do know it's not somewhere horribly fancy because I'd hate to have to think beyond my mom clothes when I get dressed to go. (And confirmed by a friend (thank you Belinda!), because I can't totally trust Mr. P's assessment of appropriate attire.) And on Sunday, Mr. P is taking me to "The Importance of Being Earnest" at a local theater (that I haven't been to since before I moved to New York). AND he arranged all the necessary babysitting for Kiddle.

So it will be a great birthday weekend. BirthDAY, however, a bit blah.

Two Already?

How is my baby two already? I know I'll be saying this every year for the rest of his life, but really ... how is he two? Although sometimes I think it's not so much that he's two, but that I haven't been in my former career for TWO FREAKING YEARS! That means even though we worked waaaay in advance, all the programs I developed there are done and gone. My legacy is over! Damn.

Anyway, moment of mourning former life over. Back to the Kiddle.

Grammy and Ahdah came up for a week-long visit. Kiddle is totally, completely, absolutely enamored with my dad right now. I have to say having him around finally gave me a nice break. Kiddle is such a mama's boy right now that he wants me -- and only me -- no matter who else is around. But that all changed when Ahdah arrived. Woo hoo!

Still reeling from last year's 55-strong birthday blowout (who would've thought everyone would be able to come on Easter weekend?), we went low-key this year. Just us, both sets of grandparents, his uncle and future aunt. He seemed really excited about all his presents but I think the favourites right now are the sandwich set (we're offered bites of a wooden hamburger several times a day; it's important to say "yummm" after each bite), a stuffed horse named Nutley (intended to replace the very large, very hard plastic elephant he insists on taking to bed with him), and ....

bubbles!

He's always thought bubbles were pretty cool, but to get his little hands on his very own bubble blower? Awesome!




Happy 2nd Birthday Kiddle!!