Dream report

Last night I dreamt that a random group of people and I were all at a hotel dance, and would be going to a special group lunch afterwards. The hotel dance was super cool. Mike wasn't there, but I danced with a college friend who was such a good dancer he could twirl me in circles, high in the air, without me ever touching the ground. Amazing!

After the dance, it was a bit hectic trying to get everyone to load the bus to head to our group lunch. We arrived to a Mexican food restaurant that was a bit sketchy. We went in through the back entrance and were given a private room to ourselves, even though there was a line of people outside just waiting to get in.

After lunch we went in the backyard of the restaurant, which was a huge lot of sprawling grass. Plenty of room to play games. We were playing one game, but it ended in tragedy. The two participants somehow got stuck on the nearby train tracks and were killed. You would think with such a morbid twist to this dream I would have woken up at this point. Nope. Our only thought was, we probably should switch to a new game...how about kickball!!

Then I finally met up with mike, who didn't look like mike, he was actually a short Hispanic dude. But I knew it was him because he had a camera around his neck like mike does at work sometimes :)

I also had a mini dream where I was wearing a Wyoming Cowboys shirt, and someone passed me on the sidewalk and yelled, Go pokes! 

Pretty insignificant, right? Until max and I were out for a walk today and I saw a neighbors car had a UW sticker on the back. This made me remember that mini dream. 

Does that ever happen to you? Seeing something silly reminds you of a dream you had...almost like your dream knew what your day was going to be like so it catered that nights dreams to it. I'll need to spend some more time on this fascinating wonder. Let me gather some more research. Look for more posts regarding this important topic.

Welp, off to the pool again with my boys! This time, Max will get to "swim" with his sweet Sater cuzzos. Happy weekend!

I'm still a 12 year old

Remember when you were a tween and there was a sleeping baby around and all you wanted to do was wake the baby up so you could play? And the baby's mom always threatened your life if you woke the baby up?

Now that I have my own baby, I find myself still playing the role of the tween and not the threatening mom. Twice this week, I have woken up Mr Max from a marathon sleep. For a few reasons...to make sure he was still alive, and because my boobs might explode if he didn't wake up and eat, and also because I just like to snuggle him!

I had my 6 week appt today and its amazing how I feel today vs how I felt 4 weeks ago. I was in so much pain and was still a bit freaked out by the whole delivery/here is your baby/he is yours forever situation. It's amazing the clarity that time provides. Hoping for this same feeling of relief and confidence after a few weeks back at work. Stay tuned.

Today was hard.

Today was hard.

And it's just the beginning.

Mike, bless his practical heart, brought up logistics about our daily schedule with our nanny.  Like, what time will she start?  When Max is at her house, who will pick him up?  Etc.  I entertained the conversation for about 30 seconds before I just started to cry.  Six weeks ago, the reality of someone else watching my sweet boy seemed so far away.  Now, its getting closer and closer and I can't ignore it anymore.

I buried my head in a pillow on the couch and cried because I couldn't express what it is exactly that makes me the most sad.  Is it the possibility of missing some of Max's adorable "firsts"?  Is it the thought that I'll get back to work and feel like I'm so distracted that I won't be good at my job anymore, and I'll want to just give up, but I can't?  Is it the reality that I feel like I'm going to have to skip back into work with a fake smile and pretend like I'm not dying inside that someone else is spending the day with my little man?  But of all those things, I think it's that my middle child brain expects life to be fair, and because of that, I get so sad/mad that I can't think of one person in my life that is experiencing what I'm experiencing.  I can't think of one mommy-friend who is faced with (or who has conquered) going back to work full time after maternity leave.  And that makes me pissed.

After my couch cry-fest, I took Max to the nursery to change him, and I stood there and stared at him for a minute, just being a cute little stinker on the changing table.  As I started to cry again, he released one of his standard woodpecker farts that lasted for at least 10 seconds, and then smiled this freaking adorable smile, and I couldn't do anything but lay my head next to him and sob.  THIS is what I'm going to miss out on.  His silly little quirks that make him our son.

Perhaps I'm being too dramatic, and hopefully in 6 months I'll look back and think, phewww!  That really wasn't that hard!!  But, I think the scariest part is realizing that once I conquer this separation, a new one will come along.  There will come a day when he heads off to school, and my heart will break all over again.  Then, he'll (hopefully) go to college and Mike will probably have to sedate me so that I will leave Max in his dorm room.  Thennnnn, what if he graduates and wants to live in Hong Kong and  I only see him for Christmas every other year?  So this situation that I'm currently faced with is only the beginning.  And when I realize that, I freak out...what have I gotten my heart into??

4 Weeks

It was four weeks ago that I cried at my midwife appointment after learning my body had made absolutely zero progress in the quest to give birth.  At the advice of my midwife, I went straight to Sprouts and bought raspberry leaf tea and evening primrose oil, with the intention of just "seeing" if they would actually get my body moving in the right direction.  We came back home and I was feeling defeated.  I was feeling anxious, big, annoyed, annoyed at myself for being annoyed, etc.

And then, it HAPPENED.  I remember getting ready for bed that night thinking, "you know, inevitably, one of these nights I could wake up in labor".  I had no idea that TONIGHT was THAT night.

All of a sudden, we're in the car heading to the hospital.  Then, I'm getting admitted.  Then, I'm getting an IV, an epidural, taking weird naps, starting to push, and then, all of a sudden, I'm a mom.  I am holding a baby that I created with the man I love and we are suddenly a family of 3!

The past 4 weeks have been a mash-up of every emotion.  Panic.  I panic that he is so tiny and innocent and what the HECK are we doing???  Worry.  I worry that a secret germ will float into our house and into his nose and make him sick.  I worry that he will experience sadness in his life and I won't be able to fix it.  Love - incredible, heart-wrenching love.  When he is wide awake at 4am and then poops for the 90th time, I just look at him and think - my goodness, I love you so so much.

We are learning new lullabyes to sing to him.  We are perfecting techniques to soothe him with.  We are learning to survive on less sleep than ever imagined.  And when I start to question myself or freak out about going back to work or worry that I'm not doing enough and I'm being too lazy, I just remind myself - just take one day at a time.  I remind myself, you are doing it - you are parenting this little baby and you are following your instincts and if all you do today is snuggle him and feed him and keep his diaper dry, then you have succeeded.  

I love his facial expressions...sometimes he looks so annoyed and like a grumpy old man, and it just cracks me up.  I love his little dracula cry.  I love that his needs are so simple at this point. I love the funny little pictures that Mike has been capturing. Keep it up, Mike!!

So tomorrow, at 1:24pm, he will be one month old.  We probably won't do much other than what we've been doing...snuggle, sleep, eat, poop.  And that's all I want, because if the one thing I hear over and over again from friends/family/strangers, is that it goes SO FAST.  So I'm going to soak him in. And ignore the insurance paperwork that I keep putting off =)

Still here

Every morning at work, this is what I am greeted with: "Oh, you're still here, huh?"

Yup, still here!  You would think that with my eagerness and anxiety and impatience that I have past my due date.  Nope!  So technically, I need to give this little guy a break.  He still gets a few more days to stay where he's most comfortable, until I start eating habaneros and going for 25-mile walks.

My work peeps have been so great and supportive.  The nurses that I work with take my blood pressure if I'm feeling weird (or bored) and have even offered to fetch the hot towels should I want them to attempt an in-office delivery.  They tell me what I want to hear and I'm sure they wouldn't let me stay in the bathroom stall very long, if I was to get stuck in there (these stalls are not very big...its a surprise I am able to maneuver in and out of them at this point). 

I have been annoyingly anxious, and I find that when Mike doesn't give in to my pity parties, the crazier I get.  UNTIL I found this quote (on Pinterest, of course!): Have you prayed about it as much as you have talked about it?  Errrrr no, you got me...so I am trying to take that new approach.  Turn my anxious thoughts into prayers and not babble on and on about how uncomfortable I am and how ready I am for the pregnancy chapter to come to a close. 

This weekend, I plan to:

Make lemon-mint jello

Buy a hanging flower basket for my front porch

Nap

Make an audition tape for The Mindy Project (I just LOVE that show!!!!)

Not amused

A few things that did NOT amuse me this weekend:

Driving Mike's car, which is a stick...I couldn't sit close enough to comfortably reach the clutch, without my stomach pressing into the steering wheel.  So I spent an annoying afternoon driving around, jerking the car in and out of gear and slamming the shifter into place with muscles I've been trying to avoid using lately.  Needless to say, not amused.

At Target, getting a grumpy cashier who did not like the fact that I put my basket on the conveyer belt, then forgot to cash in my $4 coupon (for a completely unnecessary lipstick, but hey, it just might be the one thing that makes me feel pretty in the coming weeks!) and then acted put-off that I actually did want him to correct the transaction.  He couldn't figure out how to fix it, and then lazily waited for a manager to call another manager over to help.  Normally, I would have been so uncomfortable by the situation and the growing line behind me that I would have offered suggestions for how I could help..."Can I go to customer service instead?  Oh, don't worry, it's only $4."  NOPE.  Not this weekend.  I was hot and annoyed at his lack of brain, so I just stood there and silently stared at him while he poked around.  Once his manager helped him through the transaction and it was completely obvious where he screwed up, he still didn't get it.  I could have cashiered circles around this turd burgler.  Not amused.

This belly keeps bumping into things.  Doors.  Drinks.  Etc.  Sometimes I laugh, but if you catch me while I'm in a mood, I am not amused.  My stomach is somewhat numb these days from being stretched to the max, and my belly button is sensitive, and "bumping" into hard objects is extremely unpleasant.  Again, not amused.

Mike and I went to see Jo Koy at Comedy Works this weekend as a late anniversary present to each other. We laughed thinking it was our last date before the baby, and Jo must have overheard us, as he spent a good 20 minutes talking why you shouldn't have kids, how couples without kids are so much happier and have way better lives and more freedom, etc.  Errrrrrr...I laughed uncomfortably, hoping that Mike wasn't secretly booking a trip to Cuba on his phone under the table.

And speaking of Cuba, this set me off LIKE WHOA.  I needed to get directions to the Target on Havana that, according to their website, had the frosted outdoor lights in-stock for our backyard that I was searching for.  I had just dropped Mike off at kickball and was quickly realizing how un-fun driving his car was going to be, so I pulled over and decided to use good 'ol Siri to get directions to this Target.  I said, "Target on Havana" and in the most condescending voice EVER, Siri replied, "I'm sorry, Ashley, but I can't look up things in Cuba."  I FREAKED out and I'm pretty sure I f-bombed her.  Did I say, IN Havana, Siri?  No, I most certainly did not.  I said ON Havana, and being that you were created by the nerdiest humans alive, you should know the difference!!!   Additionally, I really don't like when people include my name in sentences like that.  I think it adds a bit of an unnecessary sting.  We are obviously already engaged in a conversation, so there is no need to say "Ashley", as though that will help me understand you're talking to me.  Not necessary.  And, not amused.

PS:  The Target on Havana did not have the frosted lights in stock.  NOT AMUSED!!!!!!

If you don't like gross things, this post is not for you

Something is happening with the ears of my family members.  Specifically, my mom, my brother, and most recently, me.  This strange phenomenon is gross but also incredibly fascinating.

Earwax balls.

A few months ago, my mom thought she had an ear infection and went to the doctor.  After a quick looksie into her ear canal, the doctor pulled out a piece of earwax the size of a bean.  (When my mom reported this to us, we all quickly replied, what KIND of bean?!?)  Sadly, no photographic evidence was taken of this earwax, but she said that years of ringing in her ear ended right that instant.  Incredible!

This week, my sister texted me a photo late at night (10:00pm is late, right??) of a kleenex with earwax buildup that she had just flushed out of Tyson's ear.  She said the pieces were about the size of a jelly bean, and that he too felt instant relief the second it flushed out.

Not to be left out of this trend, today I joined the club.  I noticed that when I was chewing, I was hearing kind of an echo-y clacking noise to the right of me.  (And lets be real, I'm snacking quite frequently these days, so I was hearing this noise a lot).  A quick prod to my ear made me realize there was something in there.  I quickly texted Britt and Tys to say, ME TOO!  HELP!  Britt is coming to see me tomorrow, so I figured she could just bring her trusty syringe and flush it out then.  Nope, no way.  This earwax wanted out, like meow.  I went for a walk after lunch, and all the movement must have brought the ball to the surface.  Another quick ear prod, and I realized this earwax was ready to emerge.  One second later I was trying to find a blank sheet of paper to lay it on so that I could text it to my siblings (see below).  I hadn't really been having any discomfort before today, so it wasn't like a huge relief when it came out, but I have inspected the mass closely and plan to do a full dissection later in the afternoon.