Extra Little Update

With Kiddle in preschool two mornings a week, I finally had some kid-free "me" time. Or so I thought. Nope. Not lately anyway, because it seems all I do with my Tuesday and Thursday mornings is go for prenatal-related appointments. Last Thursday was a follow-up at the diabetes center. This Thursday is a regular visit to the OB. And today's thrilling appointment was for an ultrasound and a consult with the perinatalist. The ultrasound to check the size of the baby and the consult because apparently it isn't enough to have my OB and nutritionist following my gestational diabetes. I need to add more people to this kid's entourage.

But the report was good so I'll try to refrain from further complaint. Extra Little's estimated size is four pounds, four ounces, which is on target for 32 weeks. But it seems, however, they failed to mention that I'M HAVING A JACK-O-LANTERN instead of a baby:



Yikes! He must take after Mr. P's side of the family.

Two-Year-Olds Are Bizarre

Kiddle was asleep in the bed with me a few mornings ago. He started rustling around, waking up for the day, and suddenly said, full voice, "One, two, three, four, five, six, AAA, BEE, CEE, ten, eleven, twelve, thirteen, YYY, ZEEEEE!" Well, good morning to you too, little one. (And I won't even try to phonetically type his number pronunciation. Let's just say you can tell he's counting.)

***

He hasn't been a great eater for the last year, and has recently added the quirk of not wanting you to eat his food, even if he's absolutely not going to eat it.

Me: "Hmm, Kiddle, those carrots look yummy. I'm going to have a bite since you're not eating them."
Kiddle, trying to open my mouth: "MAH CARROT!! SPIH IH OW! SPIH IH OW!"
Me, showing him my empty mouth: "Sorry. All gone. Why don't you have a bite?"
Kiddle: "NOOOO! NO BIE!"

***

On Sunday, we were sitting at the table, eating dinner. Earlier in the day he had found Mr. P's bizarre dinosaur puppet. It's huge, scary looking, and something only a little boy (or a little boy in a man's body) would love. He thought it was fantastic and carried it around most of the day, even feeding it bites of his quesadilla at dinner. Mr. P and I were chatting, when I realized Kiddle was having a conversation with the dinosaur. Not unusual for most kids, but it's rare to hear him directly talking to his toys and understand what he's saying:

"OKAY DIE-SO, HODE MAH HAN." (Ok dinosaur, hold my hand.)

"HODE MAH HAN, WE GO KOSS DE STEE." (While we go across the street.)

Awww! Too cute! And it's even cuter to realize he does listen to me. Even when he's actively ignoring what I say.

Are you calling me fat?

Two more months to go and I definitely have moments when I feel as big as a house already ... mostly when I see my naked belly in the mirror. But I did feel a little better today when I picked Kiddle up from school.

His teacher saw me and said, "Wow, you're really popping out now." (Ok, so maybe it didn't start off so well.) "You've got four months left?"

"No, just two."

"Only two? Wow! You look really great!"

I'll take it where I can get it.

It's sing-along time!

We FINALLY got some video of Kiddle singing. If you want to call it singing, that is. Mangling might be a more apt description. He's expanded his repertoire a bit to include Itsy Bitsy Spider and possibly a couple of Jewish songs from preschool. I just don't have the ear to recognize those.

Here's his version of the ABCs:

And one verse of Old McDonald:

Dirty, long-haired hippie!

Yes, my son's hair is so freaking long, Ana had to use a clippie to cut it properly.

Night Night, Monster Mommy.

I've been doing a lot of ranting lately (more off-line than on, I suppose) about Kiddle's going-to-bed issues. Every single night I'm in a complete and total rage. At him for not listening to one single thing that comes out of my mouth (my god, HOW many zillion times could I possibly say "COME OVER HERE -- RIGHT NOW! -- AND PUT ON YOUR PAJAMAS"?) And at myself for turning into such a nasty, screaming monster every night.

Just to make me even crazier, he's completely oblivious to my anger. He's having a grand ol' time jumping naked on my bed. GRRR. Can't he see I'm about to lose it? That I'm THIS CLOSE to tossing him in his room for the night despite the fact he's only wearing a poopy diaper and one sock?

And I love the new step he's added to the process.

me: Do you want to rock with Mommy or Daddy tonight?
Kiddle: ROCK WIT MAMA.
We settle into the chair as Mr. P turns out the light and closes the door.
Kiddle, working up to a full standing-at-the-gate sob session: NO, NO! ROCK DE DA-YEE! ROCK DE DA-YEE! DA-YEE! DA-YEE!
A couple of times I've said, fine, Daddy will come rock with you. And we switch.
Kiddle: NO! MAMA, MAMA! ROCK WIT MAMA! ROCK MAMA!

So, I'm sure you can guess, we quickly learned not to honor that request.

***

Of course, last night he went to bed like an ANGEL.

Took a bath. Let me put on his diaper and pajamas without jumping on the bed at all. Looked at a book with me on my bed, then went into his room without protesting or running from room to room. Sat in his bed nicely while we read another book, then crawled into my lap to rock. When I said it was time to get back in his bed and for me to go, he got down on his own, got under the covers and didn't let out a single peep when I left the room. It was heaven.

WHO ARE YOU AND WHAT HAVE YOU DONE WITH KIDDLE?

***

How can this sweet sleeping face send me into such a rage?

I take it back.

Spring is most definitely NOT in the air.

We got about six inches of snow yesterday and it was about 25 degrees this afternoon. BRRRR! (But I'm not really complaining because parts of Long Island received over a foot. New York City public schools closed for the first time in five -- yes, FIVE -- years.) March absolutely came in like a lion.

On the plus side, Kiddle discovered the joys of coasting downhill on a bike. If only there wasn't a relatively busy street at the end of our sidewalk. Gulp.

Spring is in the air.

Well, a little bit anyway.

I wish I could say it was a glorious day, but I can't. Overcast and a bit damp, in fact, but it was close to 50 and a nice day to stretch our legs at the park. We've been off and on over the winter when the weather has allowed, but today was the first day we actually encountered the usual group of kids.

Joseph, Juliana, Gwen, and LK were all there. And we met a couple of fresh-on-their-feet walkers who were too little to be noticed last summer. The kids had a fantastic time chasing each other all over the place and making woodchip cakes. Banana cake, chocolate cake, birthday cake, PAN-cakes (they thought that one was hysterical). So many flavors.

This park has become my lifeline to burn some energy out of my busy little kid. The winter has been long, long, long and I can't wait to get back to our nightly park outings. I think I was giddier than the kids today!

Daddy Love: The Movie.

DA-YEE!!

It's seems we're (finally) entering a daddy phase. After, I don't know, two years of a mommy phase? Two years of Kiddle trying to close the door on Daddy when he comes home from work, sobbing at the top of the stairs if Daddy dares to put him to bed solo, and hysterically wailing when Daddy enters his room instead of Mommy.*

Now, he cries when Daddy leaves in the morning, is thrilled when he gets home in the evening and doesn't utter a peep when Daddy takes him up to bed alone. And on nights that we're both getting him ready for bed, his answer to the question, "Do you want to rock with Mommy or Daddy?" is just as often DA-YEE as it is MAMA.

I wouldn't say it's all about Daddy just yet. But we're getting there. Thank god.

Let's hope it hangs on through the birth of this next kid.

* Disclaimer: extreme examples; not everyday occurrences.

KiddleTV

Yes, he's eating blueberries while watching himself eat blueberries.

He loves to watch video of himself. (Future reality star perhaps?) WASH KIDDLE? WASH KIDDLE? as he's tapping on the screen. CAM-RA? And if that doesn't work, WASH DA-YEE?

During the latest episode of KiddleTV, he ran to the fridge and got out the carton of blueberries when he saw himself eating berries on-screen. Art imitating life? Life imitating art? Who knows.

My Little Helper

Three of my favourite of-the-moment Kiddle obsessions:

1) He is my printer assistant. No matter where he is or what he's doing, he must -- MUST -- drop everything as soon as he hears my printer start up just so he can hand me the pages as they come out. I've had to reprint things simply to avoid the meltdown.

2) He is my bathroom attendant. Flushing is his job and his job alone. Heaven forbid I pee and flush the toilet myself. But his belated dash into the bathroom combined with a look of indignant reproach is worth it. At least until I have to bodily remove him from the bathroom and lock the door from the outside.

3) He is my elevator operator. The only reason trips to the grocery store are somewhat reasonable is that we park in the garage under the store and take the elevator up. But never forget -- Kiddle must be the one to push the buttons. To the point that he refused to get on the elevator recently because Mr. P pushed the Up button. The nerve of that guy.

And just how pregnant am I?

Good question.

My mom asked me a while back how many weeks I was. No clue. And of course she said, "You would have known exactly how many weeks you were with Kiddle." Well, duh, mom. It was my first pregnancy and I had it written down on a calendar right in front of me at my desk. Be thankful this is my second pregnancy and I'm not asking you to cancel your trip to Florida that covers my due date.

So how many weeks am I? I know I was 20 weeks on Christmas day, so that means I'm ... hang on ... 28 weeks. Twelve to go.

Yikes. That seems really soon and really far away.

TMI Alert: OB Update

I survived yesterday's three-hour glucose test without passing out or falling asleep. When I took the test while pregnant with Kiddle, desperate for a quick hit of protein, I stopped by McDonald's (perhaps that makes my quest protein-like?) on the way back to the subway to get a double cheeseburger. And, of course, it was one of those times it takes at least 10 minutes to get your food. I was about to collapse into a pile of goo as I clung to the counter, willing them to put that burger in my hands. How hard is it to make a double cheeseburger? I did learn a lesson from that experience and took a peanut butter sandwich with me for yesterday's test.

I also found out that my sugar level wasn't sky high -- 144, and the cut-off is 140. So that was good news and an indication that I might make it through this test without being labeled as diabetic.

The frustrating part of the visit was that the protein level in my urine sample was too high. Way too high. No need to panic yet, but it definitely worries me because that was one of the problems I had while pregnant with Kiddle -- but much later in the pregnancy. Protein in your urine is one of the indicators of preeclampsia. But it must accompany high blood pressure, which I don't have. Yet. The only solution for preeclampsia is to deliver the baby. Not a big deal if you're past 37 weeks, but I've got quite a ways to go before delivery is an option.

However -- hopefully the protein is a sign of something else. Like an asymptomatic UTI. So the doctor is sending off more urine for analysis and took more blood to run some other tests. And I have to do a 24-hour urine collection test this weekend. (So don't drink out of the big red jug in the fridge please!)

And, to top it all off, I have a sinus infection. Very annoying; haven't had one in years and years. I started a round of antibiotics last night, so I'm just waiting for that to kick in and get rid of the pain and pressure on the left side of my face. The good news is that if I do have a UTI, the antibiotics will take care of that too.

Which reminds me ... I'm two hours late taking my pill. Gotta go!

Edited to add: I also found out that I was already exposed to fifth disease at some point, so I'm immune. Whew! One less thing to worry about.

Luck of the Irish? Or the dumbest thing ever?

Am I insane for wanting to get my almost three-year-old this toy? Does it seem less crazy if I add that he's at least 51% Irish?

10 steps to bed.

1) Aim for a 7:00 bedtime ... but always start the process a half hour too late. (Remember, people, he stopped napping. 7:00 is not ridiculously early.)

2) Wrestle Kiddle into a fresh diaper, pull-up (yes, we're layering) and pajamas while he's madly jumping on my bed and hiding under the covers. "HIDEY, Mama! HIDEY!"

3) Dose of Zyrtec, then teeth brushing.

4) Read one or two books. Much to my annoyance, this means toddler look-and-find books. He will not listen to anything story-based right now.

5) Rock in his big red chair for 10 minutes or so while listening to U2 or Led Zeppelin lullaby CD.

6) Tell him it's time to get into bed. He then pushes me backwards to try to keep me in the chair: "Nooo, no bed. Rock, Mama! ROCK!"

7) Rock for two more minutes, then insist he get into bed. Cover him with a blanket, give him a kiss, say "I love you," and hightail it out of the room as quickly as possible before he can untangle himself from the blanket and catch up with me.

8) Dash down the stairs as he flings open his door, rattles the gate, sobbing "MAMA! MAMA! MAMA!"

9) Listen to the wailing until he decides he may as well shut up and go to sleep. Hopefully only two to five minutes.

10) When I head up to bed several hours later, check to see if he's asleep at his door or if he actually made it back to his bed.

I just don't get the racing-after-me step in this process. Why waste a perfectly good sense of sleepiness when he knows I'm not coming back? I do know why though. He wants to be rocked to sleep or for me to sit there while he goes to sleep. No way, bud. I've spent too, too many hours walking, jiggling, snuggling, and rocking you to sleep in the last three years. I'm done. Time to man up and go to sleep on your own. I know you can do it. I've seen you do it. So just do it.

I failed ...

... my one-hour glucose test. Ugh.

I didn't pass it when pregnant with Kiddle either. That time I got through the long version ok, but I wouldn't be terribly surprised if I end up on the gestational diabetes route this time. Annoying, but at least it would force me to clean up my diet. I've been on a serious sugar binge the last month or so.

So it's the three-hour, multiple-blood-samples version for me this Friday (which, by the way, is the first of my every-two-weeks appointments). Good thing the phlebotomist at my OB's office rocks!

Two Cool Things

At last, Kiddle is tall enough to completely reach the pedals on his tricycle. Now he's just got to grasp the concept of steering.

***


We FINALLY have an indoor playspace near us.* And it's fantastic. The best part for Kiddle at this age is the huge jungle gym. We went this morning and he spent most of our visit climbing and sliding. It also has a bunch of imagination playrooms: a workshop, grocery store, 50s diner, beauty shop, ballet studio, and more. Kiddle's pretend play skills haven't really kicked in yet (and I'm not sure he has that gene considering he's a product of me and Mr. P), so those rooms aren't particularly interesting to him yet. Unless, of course, spinning in a circle with a grocery cart and gazing at himself on the live video feed in the High School Musical room is what you'd call "interested." But that will just give us more to explore as he gets older.

* Hello, we live in the Northeast! It's cold here! You'd think there would be a ton of places like this around us, but no. All the ones that are somewhat appropriate for a two-year-old are at least 45 minutes away. I'm always so jealous when I go to Oklahoma because it seems like there's so many more options. So I'm thrilled to have somewhere new and clean and fun.

I plead the fifth.

Kiddle might have fifth disease.

His preschool teacher brought it up today when I picked him up. She became concerned because his cheeks got really red at one point today (major symptom), she heard that a kid in another class has it, and she knows I'm pregnant.

I just don't remember this being around when I was a kid (and neither does my mom), but what do I know? So here's what I learned today:

• Also called "slapped cheek" disease because they get bright red cheeks.
• Can develop a rash on the rest of the body too.
• Usually starts as what seems like a mild cold: runny nose, low-grade fever.
• Only contagious during the "cold" period. When the rash shows up, they're no longer contagious.
• Once you've had it, you're immune to it.

Kiddle had a fresh runny nose start almost two weeks ago. He might have had a slight fever one morning, but I never could get a good thermometer read and one round of Motrin knocked it out, if it was really there at all. He definitely had some serious red cheeks and redness around the mouth starting last Monday, but he always has rosy cheeks so I didn't really think much of it. I just thought they were extra chapped from all the snot he was smearing all over his face. No rash on his body (that I noticed anyway, but that's a whole other bad-mom post). So at this point it's really impossible to tell if he's had it since his symptoms aren't blatant, unless we did blood work ... and I'm not going down that path! For an extra dash of irony, we were at the pediatrician last Monday (the first day of his red cheeks) for other reasons, and apparently it didn't cross her mind either.

But here's the kicker. You DON'T want to get it if you're pregnant. If you transmit it to your baby, especially during the first half of your pregnancy, it can cause serious anemia and be fatal for the baby. Yikes! But, there's about a 50% chance I'm already immune to it and, since I'm at six months, it's less of a worry for the baby. My OB did have me come in today for blood work, just to see what's going on. They can tell if I'm already immune or if I've been recently exposed, so I'll just have to wait for the test to come back.

Oh, the joys of childhood illnesses! I do wish I had a good picture of his neon cheeks last week. You would all be horrified. In hindsight, maybe I should have been too.

Chariots of Fire: The Toddler Years

I think I broke my kid today.

He had a playdate at our house with a preschool friend. When her mom dropped her off, I said we would just walk Mia home later because it was such a beautiful day out.

Mia doesn't live too far from us; basically just up the street a few blocks. Kiddle and Mia ended up running the entire way there. I must have said "on your mark, get set, go!" one hundred times along the way. Normally I'd take the stroller, as a backup, but didn't this time since I had both kids. Several times I mentioned to Kiddle he could walk, but his reply was always, "NO ... I RUNNING!" Alrighty then.

On the way back he was so wiped out, I wasn't sure he was going to make it home without passing out in someone's yard. Of course, he kept saying, "I KIY YOU," which translates to "I'll carry you," which means YOU carry ME.

Only on the downhills, babe. I'm six months pregnant and you weigh 30 pounds.

I did carry him for a bit and I really did think he had gone to sleep. He was so still and so snuggled into my neck. Until we passed a cat, and I heard him mutter, "LOOK, KIY CAT." Down you go, bud.

When we got home he was a complete blithering idiot. Every single interaction we had was filled with sobbing hysterics.

"Want to watch Zoboomafoo while I get lunch ready?"
"NOOO .... PINGU. PINGU!"
"No Pingu right now. If you don't want to watch Zoboomafoo, then let's have some cottage cheese."
"NO CODGE CHEESE! ZABOO. ZABOO!"
He watches TV for a bit, has a complete meltdown when I sit him at the table, until he digs into his cottage cheese with gusto. (I should probably point out that feeding him cottage cheese is not a punishment ... rather, it's the mainstay of his diet.)
"All done? Ok, time to go upstairs to rest."
"NOOO! NO UPSTAIRS! NO NA! NO RES! MO CODGE CHEESE! PINGU! NO NA!!!"
This diatribe continues as I carry his kicking, writhing body up the stairs to my room and attempt to change his diaper.
"NO DIPEY! NO DIPEY! DOWNSTAIRS! NO NA!"

Ten minutes later, he's sound asleep in my bed and takes a two hour nap for the first time in weeks. I had the hardest time not laughing at him because he was just so fried. I'm not sure that I've ever seen him that tired in the middle of the day.

Oh, and I finally checked the distance my two-year-old ran/walked/stumbled: one mile round trip. Turns out Mia's house isn't quite as close as I thought. Whoops!