Caleb Pics

Thanks for all the congrats on Jerry's previous post about Caleb's arrival.  I will type up his birth story soon, but for now, we're home, and both Caleb and Norah are in bed, so I just want to quick post a few pics and then go sleep some myself.

Besides, I know it's pics you really want anyway.  So, here ya go:  Caleb soon after being born, on the warming table and getting cleaned up in the delivery room.

 Jerry, Big Sister Norah and Caleb:

 Norah and Caleb:

Norah has been pretty excited, but is also going through the transition of all the changes, so she alternates between lots of feelings and reactions.  Here, she's pretty stoked to hold him:

 And lastly, one more of just Caleb:

Looks like Jess Spoke to Soon.

Jerry's 2nd Post (lets beat my record for most comments)

Apparently Caleb did want to be a May baby. Caleb was born on May 31st at 10:30 pm. He was 8lbs 3oz, and 21 inches in length at birth. So he's a good size baby, especially when you take into account the size of Jess, whose only three apples tall.

Caleb was a pretty easy birth from the Fathers point of view (Mom may disagree, probable will). But we got to the hospital about 6pm when Jess had her contractions ever 5 to 10 min apart. From there it was just waiting for the little man to be ready. Somewhere around 10 pm they said Caleb was good to go, Jess only had to push throught six contractions and she was done. So a fairly quick labor.

I'll let Jess give you guys the messy details later on. And she'll post some photos tomarrow.

Looks Like Caleb Wants to be a June Baby

Not a May baby.

I had a doctor appointment this morning, accompanied by an ultrasound, and while I am now 2 cm, instead of just a measly 1 cm, dilated, there's still not much progress, so while it is still possible for me to go into labor on my own in the next day or so, it is unlikely.  Thus, induction.  Once again.

So, the plan is that I'll go check into the hospital tomorrow evening, and they'll start me on the first stage of the induction, which is Cervidil, and then Thursday morning begins the Pitocin.  Most likely, then, he'll be born on Thursday, June 2nd.

I pretty much feel as I did when we confirmed that I'd be induced with Norah: Disappointed and frustrated that I'm not going into natural labor, but relieved that there is an end in sight.  And the one advantage of induction is knowing when I'll be headed to the hospital, which is especially nice since we have to arrange for care for Norah since my mom flies home tomorrow. 

Plus, I'll know to really savor my sleep tonight!

In other miscellaneous news: Caleb barely passed his biophysical ultrasound.  They needed him to kick or punch a certain number of times within a 30 minute timeframe, and he really didn't wanna.  I had to move around and poke my belly a ton to get him to do the bare minimum (he was either sleeping or is just an extremely lazy boy).  However, morning is not usually when he's bumping around in there -- he tends to be a "night mover" so my guess is we were disrupting his morning womb nap.  But, this just confirmed that he's too dang comfy in there!

But, his HR is great and he doesn't seem to be under any stress, so that's good for a post-date baby.  And, the u/s estimated him to be 8 lbs 5 oz (again, could be off one way or another, but the dr. said she'd estimate him right around the 8 lbs mark -- we'll see come Thursday, I guess).  As for me, my BP, pulse, weight, etc all remain steady too, so despite my mental frustration, my body is totally chill with having him go post-term.

So, that's about all I can report: Most likely headed to the hospital tomorrow night, and we're expecting a Thursday baby!

Due Date: Still Nada

Unless Caleb decides to make a dramatic 11th hour arrival today, it looks as though he's gonna let his due date come and go.

All weekend, so far, I've been barely able to contain my frustration.  I'm doing my best to be as patient and accepting as possible, but it's not easy.  I don't want to just sit around and wait, so we've been trying to keep busy with small activities relatively close to home, but while it's nice to keep busy, everywhere I go, I get asked questions and statements like, "When are you due?  How do you feel?  Wow, a full 40 weeks!  You must be really uncomfortable right now!  Oh, that baby is gonna be at least an 8 pounder!"  This is from everyone: Neighbors, the grounds/maintenance guy of our community, strangers at the pool, a waitress at a restaurant, etc. 

It makes me want to stay inside, in communicado.

Oh well, I know there is an end in sight: Even if he doesn't come on his own, by the end of the week, he's getting an eviction notice, and he'll have to move on out.  This time next weekend, I know he'll be here.  Patience, grasshopper Jess, patience.

Massage Summary

The doula center I went to for my massage was pure stereotype: Plinky-plunky music, beads in the doorways, and the faint scent of "essential oils," the massage therapist was like a real life version of Phoebe Buffay.  As much as I had to smirk and the hippie-ness of it all, it really was a great experience. 

The therapist was super friendly and took the time to talk with me for a few moments before the massage to discuss my pregnancy, and her massage was a great, relaxing experience.  I didn't even find the accupressure to be all that uncomfortable.  Granted, it was a bit tender getting squeezed on those pressure points, but I didn't think it was painful.

Afterward, she told me that I "just need to relax," so that's what I'm trying to do -- deep breaths, relax my shoulders, be patient --- ommmmmmm...We'll see what comes.

Doula-Doula

I booked a "natural labor encouragement massage" with a doula tomorrow. 

For those who don't know, doulas are like a hippie's helper before, during, and after pregnancy.  They are not nurses or midwives; they just provide a host of services for the preggo and post-preggo population.  And I joke that they're for hippies because, well, it's mostly granola types who trend toward doula services.  I don't really think of myself as such a granola type (since as a college friend of mine once said, "I'm not a hippie!  I shower everyday and I hate the smell of patchouli!" -- and that's always been my definitive definition); however, I suppose I border on hippie.  Hippie-adjacent, I guess you could say.

Anyhoo, one service they offer is a "39 week special" which is a massage that combines certain essential oils with specific pressure point focus that is supposed to naturally encourage labor to start on its own.  They boast an 85% success rate that after your massage, you'll naturally go into labor within 2-5 days.  A student initially told me about the service a few months back -- she too is a mother and she'd taken advantage of such a massage with her second pregnancy and she swore she went into labor exactly 48 hours after receiving the massage.

I was, and still am, a bit skeptical because, well, when you're at least 39 weeks pregnant, you could go into labor at any point, so the 2-5 day promise seems a bit like a given anyway.  But, I figure: Why not?  It can't hurt to try and, as Jerry argued, if nothing else, a massage would be a nice, relaxing activity which is maybe something I should take advantage of and enjoy right now anyway.  So, I booked it.  It's not cheap, but it's really no more expensive than a regular 60 minute massage, and I figure if it does work, it's worth it.

My mom arrives this afternoon, so she can stay home tomorrow morning with Norah, and I guess I'm gonna go get my doula on, yo!

Dr. Update: The Due Date Looms

I must have a really awesome uterus.

Because my kids seem to just wanna hang out in there.

I had my regular weekly dr. check up this morning (I'm 39 weeks and 2 days), and...still nothing doing.  Caleb seems to be in there like, "Hey, it's warm, I'm cozy.  I think I'll just continue to chillax and kick my mom in the ribs in here." 

I've been trying to be as patient as possible, knowing that babies come when they come (or come when modern medicine intervenes), but I'm also just plain tired of being pregnant.  So, to virtually have the same last few weeks as I did with Norah (dilated 1 cm for about a month with little/no sign of progressing), feels a bit frustrating. 

I know that my due date isn't until Sunday, so it's not as though he's officially late.  Yet.

So, after the exam, the dr. and I chatted and determined the following course of action: Wait another week, hoping that I'll naturally go into labor in that timeframe, and if I don't, then I'm scheduled to go in Wed, June 1st for an induction.  The induction would follow the same pattern of steps as it did when I was induced with Norah -- going in the evening of the 1st and beginning with the Cervidil and then following up the next morning with a cocktail of Pitocin.

Again, I hope to go into labor on my own, but again, I'm thankful to also have a back-up course of action.  Knowing that there's an end in sight is helpful; logically, I know I can't be pregnant for forever, but at this point, it kinda feels as though I will be.

Of course, if I do get induced late next week, it will mean that Caleb will entirely miss both of his Grandmas' planned visits.  Jerry's mom is planning on leaving tomorrow, and my mom arrives on Thursday, but is scheduled to fly home on Wed, the 1st, so he could miss her too.  I know that they were both very well aware that scheduling their trips as they did meant that they could miss his birth, but it still disappoints me that both their trips could be in vain.

Ah well, we'll see what happens in the next week or so.

I'm just crossing my fingers that his chill attitude in the womb (which is the same as Norah's) means that he'll have her same easy-going, laid-back personality as a newborn.  Norah was pretty much the world's easiest newborn, and if I get even a smidgen of that with Caleb, I have no reason to complain about going to or past my due date.

Still Hanging in There

That's about all I can say right now.  Every morning, Jerry asks me: "So.  You gonna go into labor today?"  And about all I can respond with is: "I don't know...I don't think so."  I'm trying to be patient, but at 39 weeks, let's face it, most pregnant women are D-O-N-E.  I'm big, I'm uncomfortable, I'm tired.  I'm ready to have this bugger.  But, the wait continues...

In the meantime, we've been keeping busy.  Today, we took Norah to the park to ride the train and the ponies again.  She felt so-so about the train, but luh-ved the horses.  Her horse this time was named Charlie, and after her ride, she kept saying, "Horses.  Riding.  Charlie."  But you have to picture how she says "Charlie"; it's so cute, it's like "CHAR-lee."  All afternoon, she kept telling us about CHAR-lee.

The park time was fun, but by 11:15, we were spent.  It was 94 degrees out there, and for me, I felt like my fingers and toes were sausages, and I had sweat through my undies -- lovely image, right?  So, we went out to lunch in lovely A/C and then we all had a gloriously long afternoon siesta.  And after our nap, we had some pool time before dinner.

As a last thought/image, I caught this cute picture of Jerry and Norah walking.  It's a good daddy-daughter pic, isn't it?

And ever notice how Norah's clothes change, but Jerry always wear the same thing?  Maybe I should just quit washing that t-shirt so I can get some variety in our pictures!

Not Amuse-ing

With my MIL here, Jerry and I got out to enjoy a date night last night.  We figured we may as well take advantage of a free babysitter and what may be our last remaining days before Caleb arrives to enjoy a night together.  So, Jerry went to all this effort to seek out a restaurant he thought would be great and secure us reservations.  It was in downtown Miami, overlooking Biscayne Bay, the menu online looked fabulous, yet affordable, and we figured a splurge on a fancier place was worthwhile since we don't often do it.  It was called Amuse.

We get there for our 8:15 pm reservation and we are the ONLY people in the place.  Uh-oh...  Granted, it was a small, intimate place with only 7 tables, so we thought, "Well, it's Miami, maybe the place won't start filling until 9."  It never filled.  We were the ONLY table the entire time!  That was our first sign.

Secondly, the moment we stepped in there, I thought the whole atmosphere was just trying too hard -- everything about the decor and the music, etc were just a strange combination of pretention and tacky-trendiness.  I mean, techno background music in a place that's billed as "the perfect place for couples"?  No.  Wrong.  And the "view of Biscayne Bay"?  Yes, the bay was out there, but you were gazing across the road at it.

The server was friendly and greeted us promptly (really, what else did she have to do?) and gave us a serving of fried plantains with salsa and guacamole, but...I quickly determined that the salsa had to be Pace Picante.  I don't eat that shit at home, why would a restaurant of supposedly high caliber serve it?  Another warning sign.  We ordered our meals, and after the server left, we made light of the Pace Picante and did our best to enjoy ourselves and chat over the annoying techno music in the background.

Our appetizers were awesome -- I had this "inside out BLT" that was truly one of the most innovative and tasty things I've ever had -- so it seemed to be looking up.  But then that was the highlight of the meal; from there, it was downhill.  Our entrees were disappointing, at best (I had a risotto that I could have made better), and I actually would have preferred to bypass the dessert entirely rather than struggle through the few bites of it that I did ingest.

So, in short, the place sucked.  And it was not cheap.

But, as we drove home laughing and criticizing the place, we reasoned that at least it made for a good story.

Ah well, you never know what a place is really like until you try it, but friends, if you travel to Miami, I do NOT recommend Amuse!

As for today, Jerry took the day off work, and he and his mom took Norah to the beach, so I have most of the day in front of me without child, husband or MIL.  Whatever shall I do with myself?  Is it weird that I think I'm gonna clean the bathrooms?

38 Weeks, 2 Days

At this point in pregnancy, it seems that all I do is go to the doctor.  The reality is that I go once a week; still, it seems like I'm there all the time.

So, yeah, today I had another doctor check up, and there's not much progress to report.  She said I'm still 1 cm dilated, but maybe a "smidgen more."  She wrote down "1+ cm" -- I think she likes me to feel good about myself ;)  There is progress in terms of my cervix's softening and shortening, but it looks as though this guy is gonna be like Norah: In NO hurry to move along a little early; he'll probably go a full 40 weeks.  That's not a bad thing, by any means, but I'm really hoping to go into labor naturally this time around, so I hope there's more progress next week so we don't have to plan another induction.  Of course, I was induced with Norah and that turned out just fine, so if that's the case, I know things will work out.

In other check-up news, I'm not sure if she gave me a pelvic exam this morning or was checking on my molars via the "long route" -- wowza!  I know that she's just trying to "help things along" by reaching up through my vagina and trying to tickle the back of my throat, but man alive, I could do without this part of preggo exams!  She said she could feel the top of Caleb's head if that gives you any indication of her reach during the exam this morning.  I wanted to ask if she could also count his toes, which are up in my ribs, but I'm never entirely sure if she gets my humor so I play it pretty straight.  Besides, there's little room for humor when you're counting ceiling tiles and sucking air through your teeth.

A few last details that I know you can't live without:

• The nurse called me "tiny" today.  Which seemed generous considering that I feel like a baby Beluga.
• Speaking of whale-ness, this was the first check up in this entire pregnancy where I didn't gain any weight.  Overall, I've gained a total of 25 lbs.  Not bad.  I think with Norah I gained about 30 lbs, but towards the end, I just stopped paying attention, so it might've been a little more or a little less, but somewhere around 30.
• My BP is still good -- 100/60 -- which is pretty much a constant number for me. 
• The dr. remarked, for about the 100th time, "You're just all baby, aren't you?"  She must forget that she keeps making the same comment, and I think she means it as a compliment since I haven't really gained weight except in my giant belly, but I wanna say, "No, there's probably about 8 lbs of baby; the rest is all me!"
• I feel very luck that: I again haven't gotten any stretch marks (*knock on wood*), my belly button did not do the gross turkey baster thingy, and I don't suffer from any swelling.

There.  Now you are COMPLETELY up-to-date on the Jess preggo status.  You can return to your normal existence and resume your interweb browsing.  And, can you believe The Terminator?  Another actor/politician with an extra-marital affair?!  Shocking, right?

Last Mommy-Daughter Day

Today was the last full day of just Norah and I -- for awhile.

Tomorrow, my MIL arrives and then in a week and a half, my own mother arrives, and hopefully, somewhere in the next two weeks, Caleb arrives.  So, today was the last day that Norah and I had just to ourselves.

We didn't do anything particularly significant -- went to the park for two hours this morning.  The park we went to has both playground equipment and a water park, and with the water, Norah could stay all day.  She wore herself out running around, and I was both proud and freaked out by some of the "big kid" playground equipment she was managing.  It seems parenthood is a constant tug and pull of emotions like that, and with a toddler, it seems that I am almost always precariously balanced between being impressed that she can do the things she can while simultaneously being scared that she's gonna hurt herself.  It takes a lot of restraint to stand back at the right times and intervene at the right times: Part of me would like to duct tape bubble wrap around her at all times, but the more rational part of me knows it's best to stand back and her let her be most of the time.

Anyway, needless to say, after so much morning activity, she took an awesome afternoon nap (as did I!), and we had a relaxing late afternoon/early evening before Jerry got home.

I'm grateful for the help that both my MIL and my mom have offered by coming to stay with us before, during, and after Caleb's due date, and I am looking forward to Caleb's arrival, but knowing that days like this, with just Norah and I, will be more rare in the upcoming future makes me a bit sad.

Ah, like I said, so many mixed emotions with motherhood!

How I'm Being Undermined

When I showed this to Jerry on Friday evening, he said: "Next time you go to the vet, you have to bring this."

Walkcident

Here's Norah before our walk this morning:

She travels light, doesn't she?  Notice fatty-fatterson down in the corner eyeballing her snack -- his eyes say FEED ME!

I've been walking with both Norah and Scooter for a week now, and Scooter hasn't gotten any more used to it, and I spend roughly the first half of the walk pulling him reluctantly behind me.  Once we get to our turn-around point, it's better walking home because he knows we're headed home and he walks better then.

Today, his neuroses were not helped by the fact that we came upon some landscapers who were trimming trees and blocking the sidewalk.  For Scooter, this is a 3-fold fear-inducer: 1. landscapers (!), 2. ladders and other equipment (!!), and 3. loud machinery (!!!).

So, needless to say, as we approached this segment of the sidewalk, he started flipping out on me, trying to get away and I had to tighten my grip on his leash and reign him in.  Meanwhile, I had to try and navigate around this mess, which meant briefly departing from the sidewalk, over the curb, into the street.  Which wouldn't be so hard without a crazy dog who thinks that passing this mess is the equivalent of waterboarding.  As I'm easing Norah and the stroller off the curb and trying to maintain my handle on Scooter, I nearly tip Norah and the stroller over (she was on one wheel for a moment there), but I was able to right the stroller without even a dropped Goldfish cracker.  Meanwhile, one of the landscaper guys was just staring at me and this circus with an expression that read both concern and befuddlement.  Ummm, a little help here, dude?  It might've been nice to have a hand over that curb.

Thankfully, the landscapers had cleared the sidewalk of tree debris by the time we returned along the same route sometime later, and while Scooter was still wary of the situation, he wasn't trying to pull my arm off to get away, so it was an easier passage the second time around.

In other exciting news, we saw not one, but TWO school buses and a firetruck!  It was pretty much the most thrilling walk we've had all week.

Tidbit Tuesday

Full-time-momming commenced on Monday, and having Norah all day is not really much harder than my school year schedule; in fact, in some ways, it's easier.  During the school year, I really feel as though I do the "leg work" of the day by having her all morning: When she goes to daycare in the afternoon, she's mostly eating lunch and taking her afternoon nap, so being at home all day with her just includes those activities.  And when she gets up from her nap, typically, we only have about an hour or hour and a half before Jerry gets home (he's home by 4:30).  So, it's not too shabby.  Of course, I realize that once Caleb is born, it will be more work, but for now, I'm enjoying nap time myself in the afternoon!

And speaking of Caleb, I had another dr. check-up this morning.  I'm currently 1 cm dilated.  Which doesn't really mean much of anything right now, but as the dr. said, "1 cm is better than 'no cm'!"  True dat.  Otherwise, there's not much to report about the dr.

Lastly, a cute thing today was that we've been talking to Norah a lot about babies lately, and since we got some newborn diapers (holy bejesus, SO tiny!  I can't fathom how small they seem when compared to Norah's current sized diapers!), we've been doing things like diapering her baby dolls and, tonight, Jerry was showing Norah his swaddling skillz.  Here are a few of her babies, swaddled up, as well as a swaddled Piglet:

Norah thought this "swaddling" business was so fun that she wanted Jerry to swaddle her, so he got out a blanket and wrapped her as well, which she quickly broke free of.

She thought it was so fun, she kept asking for "more!"  I think Jerry ended up going through about 4 rounds of swaddlement.

All this baby business has had me sentimental about Norah being a newborn, and I couldn't help but go back and swoon over her newborn pics, those few days when she too was swaddled:

She never really liked it then, and she always managed to break her arms free and then kick her legs out, so after a week or two, we abandoned trying to wrap her like a burrito.  Still, it was cute while it lasted.

Hard to believe that 21 months ago, she was just a tiny little nugget, and today, when she gets "swaddled," she not only breaks her arms and legs free, but she gets up and runs around!

Mother's Day: The Good, The Bad, The Poopy

My Mother's Day, like motherhood in general, reflected the highs, the lows and the shit that comes with being a mother.  So, the rundown:

The Good
I told Jerry, I didn't want balloons or flowers or cards or jewelry.  I just wanted to sleep in, to have an hour or two to myself at some point in the day, and I wanted to take a shower by myself.  I got all those things: balloons, flowers, cards, jewelry, sleeping in, time to myself and a glorious, lone shower.  In that regards, the day was everything I wanted it to be.

The Bad
We also decided to do a family activity, so we went to Butterfly World.  While there, I had a tour guide say: "Wow, are you due today?"  Me: "No, I'm due 3 weeks from today."  "Oh, well, you're BIG!"  Thanks, lady. 

After Butterfly World, which is all outside and it was a hot morning, we spent some time letting Norah run wild on the nearby playground, and by this time it was REALLY hot out.  The playground is partially covered, but it was still just plain ole hot out, and after 30 minutes, I was swelling a bit and I could tell that Jerry was fading fast.  See, there's 2 things you should know about Jerry:

1. He can't handle gin martinis.  If he has two, he WILL throw up, and then undress and go to bed.  Even if you have people over.  Doesn't matter.  Game is over after two drinks.
2. He can't handle the sun.  He got heat exhaustion once the first summer we lived in FL, and ever since then, he wilts quickly under the sun's glare.

So, on the way home, despite water and full-blast A/C, I could tell that Jerry wasn't feeling well and his mood was quickly dissolving.  After listening to 5 rounds of the ABC song, he was especially unpleasant when we pulled into the parking lot of our condo.  He was clearly getting frustrated with Norah's refusal to eat her lunch, so I made the executive decision to send him to bed.  I was a little peeved that he was going to nap while I re-fixed Norah a different lunch and got her ready for her nap because, well, Mother's Day is supposed to be MY day, but better to do those things myself than deal with Grumpilstilskin.

Without much protestation, he retired to bed to nap off the heat.

Later, after Norah got up from her nap, he was refreshed himself and he made it up to me by taking her out for some Daddy-Daughter time while I got to lounge around the house by myself, so it paid off in the end.

The Poopy
What's parenthood without some kind of poop story, right?  Except this wasn't kid poop, it was bird poop.

While at Butterfly World, we were in the lorikeet exhibit -- lorikeets, if you don't know, are really loud, annoying parrot-like birds that are super friendly with people, and you can pay $1 and feed them and they stand on your head and stuff.  It's cute the first time, but after being in the lorikeet exhibit a dozen times, I am pretty much immune to the charms of these birds.  Still, Norah thinks they're the bomb-diggity so we always go, pay a $1, and Jerry lets them stand on his head and Norah thinks it's awesome.

So, I'm standing off to the side, watching Norah giggle her head off at the birds' antics when an F-14 disguised as a lorikeet dive bombs me, and as it swoops over my head, it drops a deuce right. on. my. face.  Damn bird!  I had bird poo on my cheek and my neck and on the collar of my shirt.

Jerry thought it was the funniest thing he'd ever seen -- which maybe I should have kept in mind when he was later groaning about his "heat headache" -- and he said, "If you blog about anything from today, you HAVE to tell people that a bird pooped on your face!"

Free!

Last night, I had to attend my final obligation for the school year: commencement.

I was NOT excited to attend.

Typically, commencement is held in the mid-morning in the auditorium of our campus.  You still have to suffer through the long process of pomp and circumstance, but at least it's done early in the day and is conveniently located.  But this year, the college is celebrating its 50 year anniversary and the president has wanted to make a big deal of that anniversary by holding commencement in downtown Ft Lauderdale at the Convention Center -- at night.  It's what everyone wants to spend their Friday night doing, right?

I seriously thought of skipping out, and I probably would have but I was being specially recognized since I was Professor of the Year and my absence would be noted.  So, I went.  Reluctantly.

There were a lot of things about the ceremony that kinda sucked: confusion about where I was supposed to be in the processional and receiving little direction from commencement officials, sitting for 2 hours, standing on stage to receive my award and feeling absolutely Butterball-ish (in my regalia, it's indistinguishable that I am 9 months pregnant -- I just appear to be round and fat).  But, on the plus side, being recognized meant that I was in the front row, which means...yes, I was one of the first ones out!

To beat nearly 5,000 others out of the auditorium had a distinct advantage: I made a beeline for the bathroom and then for the parking garage, and I was outta there faster than I had anticipated.  So, I got home much earlier than I thought I would -- time enough to come home and still enjoy something of a Friday night with the Jer-Bear.

And now, I'm all done for the term and the year!  What a relief to have the next 14 weeks off.  There are definitley some things I'd like to get prepared around the house before Caleb's arrival, but if they didn't get done, it wouldn't matter.  Now that I'm done with work, I feel a huge weight off me: He can come anytime now and it'd be okay.  Phew!

Walkin' the Dog

Seeing as Scooter was recently declared a tubby-tubberson, I decided that for my normal walk today, I'd take him along.

Blargh.

See, normally, I take Scooter out for a short walk, return him to the house, and then Norah and I go for our long walk.  Why not take Scooter for the normal long walk?  In short, he's a pain and a half to walk.

He wants to stop and sniff, and pee on, every. single. blade. of. grass.  Not to mention, Scooter has become increasingly neurotic* over the past few years, so each time something unexpected crosses our path -- a stray leaf, for example -- he abouts jumps out of his skin and immediately wants to head home.  He was so scared of a high school kid who waits for the school bus, that one day, Scooter seriously pulled himself OUT of his collar to avoid passing this teen.

So, if I take Scooter for a long walk, I feel like I am either dragging him along the entire time or being dragged along.  Most of the time, I don't want to hassle with him, so that's why I leave him at home.  But, in light of his recent obesity diagnosis, I decided that I should begin hauling him along.  It was a pain, but he did alright, especially once we got a few blocks in and he kinda settled into the idea that he was going the distance.  Plus, it's been an overcast day, and this morning's weather was downright cool and pleasant, so I enjoyed the walk.

And, it was a successful day in terms of simply removing him from Norah while she was eating.  In fact, despite having to listen to him whine at our bedroom door while we're eating, I think it makes mealtime less stressful for me.  Before, it was beginning to feel like meals were a 3 ring circus where I felt I was either constantly reprimanding Norah for giving Scooter food or I was constantly threatening to BBQ Scooter if he wouldn't quit leaping in the air to try and take her food.

In time, I'm sure he'll just get used to having to be put away during meal and snack time and I won't have to listen to him crying in there.  But really, after listening to a child cry, I'm pretty immune to the whimpers of a dog.

*I asked the vet if Scooter's increased anxiety in the past few years could be medicated.  Actually, I specifically asked the vet if there was a "shot for Annoying."  The vet just laughed at me (he thought I was joking?) and said that he could give Scooter doggie Valium but that the effects were that it would make him lethargic.  Now, a lethargic Scooter doesn't sound entirely bad to me, but ultimately, I guess I'd rather not have him feel dopey, so I opted against the Valium prescription.

Beefcake Scooter

Tubby here weighed in at 39 lbs at the vet's today!

In the past two years, he's gained 8 lbs, which isn't much by human standards, but for his relatively small size, it's like the human equivilant of gaining about 20 lbs a year (the vet told me).  Ideally, Scooter should weigh about 30 lbs.

We feed him measured proportions of kibble and he gets regular exercise.

The big culprit is, of course, his consumption of human food via Norah.  She drops a lot of food, hands him a lot of food, and Scooter will out-right steal a lot of food from her -- he will literally snatch things right out of her hands if she's not vigilant.  The vet said that cutting back on his regular kibble or switching to diet kibble won't make much of a difference; he has to eat less (preferrably, no) human food.  So, I guess when Norah's snacking or having a meal, Scooter is gonna have to get shut away in the bedroom. 

That's my best thought -- any other suggestions?  Maybe doggie lipo?

Small Toddler; Big Baby

This week has been, and is, chock full of dr. appointments: Even Scooter has his yearly wellness exam tomorrow!  Jerry happens to be the only one in this family who somehow avoided a check up this week.  Hmmmmm....

Assuming you're not riveted by the results of Scooter fecal test, here's the low-down on Norah and I's appointments:

Norah:
Had her 21 month check up yesterday, and she is healthy and developmentally on track in every aspect.  The one interesting anecdote from the visit is that her height measurement revealed that her growth has slowed, and she only grew half an inch in the past 3 months.  No big deal, but the doctor approached the subject of her height as if he were hedging around bad news:

"She probably won't be very tall," he said.  "She's now in the 40th percentile for height and she's only estimated to be a 5'4" adult."

Me: "5'4" sounds pretty good to me!"

He kinda let out a chuckle of semi-relief (do parents really care that much how tall their kid is that they might get riled up over such a thing?) and said:  "That's good that you're realistic about it."

Me: "I don't understand genetics that well [how, for instance, has she ended up with blond hair and blue eyes?], but I do get that my genetics play a 50% role here, and not only am I short, but my whole family is short.  So, even though my husband is of average height, I never expected her to be tall."

Short of strapping her to a medeival stretching machine, height is not something we can control, so why would I concern myself with that?  I have other things on my plate, like getting her to not pinch the dog.

Now, on the other end of the spectrum, I had my 36 week check up this morning, with an accompanying ultrasound so that the dr. could get a guesstimate on Caleb's potential size.

Me:
The lowdown is that the u/s estimated Caleb's current weight to be at least 7lbs, which means if he goes to 40 weeks, they estimate his birth weight at close to 9 lbs.

Emphasis here on "estimate."  Both the dr. and the u/s tech called it more of an educated guess, and the dr. isn't concerned about him being too big for me to naturally deliver.  I'm glad she's relaxed; I thought I was gonna have to defend a recommended induction or planned c-section, but she didn't bring either subject up.  Good.

The u/s over-estimated Norah's birth weight by more than a pound, so I don't really trust it to be accurate.  I bet he's healthy and hearty in size at birth, but no more than I can handle.

The other fun u/s stuff was that we got a good look at hs face, and even in utero, he looks like a cutie!  Maybe he will even have the same chubby cheeks as Norah.  We also got re-confirmation of his boy parts -- he must like showing 'em off, cuz they were easy to spot once again.  And, she showed me the left foot of his that keeps jamming me in the rib cage.  I don't know why I was delighted by that; by feel, I can tell it's his foot, but for some reason, seeing his foot kicking me in the ribs on the u/s just seemed funny.

Anyhoo, that's all the dr. news for now.  I'm sure the vet is gonna tell me that Scooter is a fatty-fatty-two-by-four at his check up tomorrow (that chunk-la-funk is constantly stealing food from Norah -- what dog eats carrots?  Scooter.  but, only because Norah is eating them).

It's a Good Thing

I only have two days left of "real" work, meaning I just have two days of classes left to meet with this week.  Then, I just finish up my term grades, and I should be all finished by Wednesday, at the latest.  Anyway, it's good I just have a few work days left because, frankly, I'm out of clothes to wear.  I went to the mall dressed like so today:

Dignity be damned!  Comfort is my only concern right now.  Which is why having just a few remaining days left of work is such a blessing.  Starting Wednesday, the above can become my everyday uniform until Caleb is born.  Suh-weet!

As a preggo-picture aside, the above is one of my fav preggo tees.  As is demonstrated by its appearance in several photos.  A good comparison of both my growing size and the tee's stretchability can be compared with the pic below.  This was taken exactly 60 days ago:

 

That, directly above, is a good example of "cute" preggo belly.  My current state is an example of "behemoth" belly, and I don't think that tee is gonna stretch much further!