Baby Kate!

I just realized that I never put up any pictures of Baby Kate.  Yes, we actually call her "Baby Kate".  And by we, I mean everyone in this world other than Nick.  He calls her Katelyn because he thinks that she is not going to know what her real name is if we call her Kate.  The whole Baby Kate thing started because that's what I called her when speaking about her to Alexa when I was pregnant and then she was born and it just stuck.  For some reason, it's completely appropriate for her.  I don't know why.  So, anyway, here's a bunch of pictures that I took as I was trying to be a photographer.  Some of them my mom edited.  It's pretty obvious which ones those are.  There are a couple of Alexa thrown in there (obviously).  Lexi started off kind of jealous but she's turning out to be a very good big sister...most of the time.  Baby Kate is super cute, she's always happy.  Unless she's trying to sleep.  Then she screams.  A lot.  The kid hates to sleep, which is not good for my psyche.  She likes to take cat naps during the day and then she likes to wake up at least every three to four hours at night.  I haven't slept more than 4 hours straight in the past 5.5 months.  Alexa was such a champion sleeper.  By the time she was this age, she was sleeping 12 hours through the night without waking at all.  I used to think to myself that all these women saying that they are so exhausted after having a baby are nuts!  They must either be really bad at this parenting thing, or I was really good at it!  Well, that was when I had a sleeper and now that I have a non-sleeper, I would give anything for 8 straight hours of sleep.  This Q4hr wake up crap is getting really old.  I feel like I have tried everything, but if anyone has any advice on how to get a baby to sleep for a long time, I'll take it.  The lack of sleep is really starting to turn me into a not so nice person...in life.

My Tooth Story

I'm going to try to write on my blog more, which I know is something I say all the time.  But this time I'm really going to do it.  Really.  My goal is to be a full time, self employed blogger.  So somebody better start following me and writing comments on this thing!  :)  As part of all this, I tried to get past my horrible computer skills and update the look of my blog and try to figure out what different things I can do with it.  I found that I can have a heading.  A one sentence type of thing that describes me and my blog.  And so, after much deliberation, I decided on "South Florida girl moves to the 'country' where shirts, shoes and a full set of teeth are all optional."  I thought it was pretty witty and funny.  Not gonna lie, I was proud of myself.  Until I realized that I am totally starting to fit in here...I officially do not have a full set of teeth.

When I was pregnant with Kate, my body was generally against me.  In addition to the bitchiness, I had headaches, I felt exhausted all the time, Katelyn enjoyed using my kidneys as a punching bag, I randomly got the worst UTI in history and, oh yeah, my tooth fell out.  Let's all take a moment to reflect on that last statement.  OK, done.  And yes, you read it correctly.  My tooth actually fell out.  (Well, I suppose that's a slight exaggeration.  A quarter of one of my molars fell out.  But still!!!  That's a quarter of a very large tooth!)  It was like those dreams people have about loosing their teeth, except it was real.  And it sucked.  A lot.

It happened on a Saturday night.  That morning, my tooth started hurting and progressively got more annoying as the day went on.  After Alexa went to bed, I was sitting on the couch with Nick, telling him how I was probably going to make an appointment at the dentist on Monday because this crazy ache in my tooth just won't go away.  He suggested that I do a good flossing because maybe I got a piece of food stuck or something.  That sounded like a good suggestion and it made sense that it might be a piece of food because of how suddenly it came on.  We finished watching our show and got up to go to bed.  (I'm going to add in some stuff that is slightly off topic here, but I think it really highlights the ridiculousness of the whole situation)  We both walked into the bathroom.  Nick peed while I started brushing my teeth.  (Stay with me here)  He flushed the toilet (I swear, he just peed) and it started overflowing!  Poop water started spilling over the edge of the toilet seat!  He runs to get dog towels from our bedroom, comes back in and realizes that poop water is now backing up into the bathtub.  At this point, I had finished brushing my teeth and was trying to help him.  In an effort to keep me away from the strange poop juice that was coming up and also to try to alleviate my tooth pain (and my complaining), he told me to just floss and let him clean up.  So I started flossing as he ran to another bathroom to get the plunger.  It was at that moment, surrounded by the stench of feces that I tried to floss at the site of my pain and off popped a huge chunk of my tooth.  At first I didn't even know what it was.  I assumed it was the piece of food that was stuck.  Until I realized how big it was and there was no way something that big could have been stuck between my teeth.  I spit it out and looked in my mouth to a gaping hole where one of my molars should be.  It was horrific.  And I swear, I didn't even floss that hard.  The only up side was that it didn't hurt anymore.  So, of course Nick walked back into the bathroom, plunger in hand, to me standing there with my mouth open, holding my tooth, tears streaming down my face, in utter shock.  I said "my tooth fell out!" and he laughed because really, at that moment, not much else could have gone wrong.

The toilet thing ended up being a plumbing problem as opposed to a septic tank problem.  George and Carolyn happened to be up here for Antonio's birthday party, so Nick, George, Kim and Steve spent all day Sunday fixing the plumbing.  By Sunday evening, the toilet was working and there was no more poop water in my bathtub.  My tooth, on the other hand, required a bit more intervention.  I discovered that there is no emergency dentist in Tallahassee.  (apparently there are emergency dentists, just not here)  I lived with a hole in my tooth until Monday when I was able to see someone and then discovered that I had to have a root canal.  I'm still not entirely sure what that entails.  I just know that, because I was pregnant, they had to give me a different kind of numbing medication, which obviously doesn't work as well.  And of course I have super long tooth roots that curve which made the whole root canal process even longer.  And, again because of the pregnancy, I had to wait until after Kate was born to get the final crown (I think that's what it's called) made and put on.  Oh, did I mention that I despise the dentist, can not stand anyone touching my teeth and have had a (traumatic) previous experience with numbing medicine not working during a filling?  I think it's safe to say that this whole experience made my anxiety level go up exponentially.

I have decided that I'm going to leave my blog heading the way it is, knowing that as the years go on, I am becoming less out of place up here.  (At least I get my teeth fixed when they fall out)  I don't really feel like I belong in south Florida anymore either,  so maybe it's a good thing.  One thing is for sure...I will NOT develop a country accent!

Udderly Delicious!

So, I was feeling sorry for myself the other night because I had to work full time.  I like my job and I would want to work sometimes, just not full time.  I was irritated because I have to leave for work at 5:45am and I don't get home until 8 (or later) which is way after Alexa goes to bed, and sometimes after even Kate goes to bed.  I hadn't seen Alexa in more than 3 days and my only interaction with Kate was a bath and night time feed.  Anyway, I was moping around the kitchen trying to brainstorm ideas to make money from home and wishing that I had a marketable skill when I saw a Target ad on the counter advertising for a sale on all breastfeeding supplies.  (Oh yeah! I think you know where this is going now!)  So I thought to myself, 'That's what makes me (semi)unique...I produce milk!  Wouldn't it be hilarious if I sold my breast milk online.'  I walked into my bedroom still chuckling to myself and decided, just out of sheer curiosity, to try to google it.  OMG, you guys, there is a whole breast milk buying/selling world out there!  It's like the breast milk black market.  Except it's legal.  I think.  Legal or illegal, it's kind of creepy.

People post ads for their milk.  It's like the classifieds of human dairy products.  And not only are they describing (in detail) their milk, they are, in a way, selling themselves too.  And they sell it by the ounce!  Examples: "1000+ ounces of creamy fresh or frozen breast milk from healthy mother" (I want to know if the 'fresh' stuff is still warm), "Healthy, fatty milk for your little one", "Human dairy queen...", "Fit, healthy, Ivy-league educated mom selling...", and my personal favorite: "Fresh BM. Local sales only"  And that, folks, is why acronyms are generally bad.

I'm not gonna lie, I'm all about the nursing with Katelyn, more so than I was with Alexa.  But if I wasn't able to nurse her for any reason, formula it would be!  She gets 2 bottles of formula a day as it is anyway.  I mean, I understand that people want what's best for their baby.  And the people selling it are just trying to make some extra cash from their overflow (no pun intended) supplies.  Some of these women must be making thousands of dollars!  I checked, and there's about 200 ounces of milk in my freezer right now.  I might just sell off whatever Kate doesn't drink.  I could market my milk as "Udderly Delicious!"

What's For Dinner?

Disclaimer: Nick is a really good husband and father. Seriously. He feeds, bathes and puts Alexa to bed at least three times a week because I am at work or teaching and he's done a fantastic job so far when he's been at home by himself with both girls when I'm working on a weekend. He even vacuumed the house last night as I was bathing Lexi. OK, I had to put that out there first. On to my story.

I'm not a good cook. I can follow a recipe just fine but I'm definitely not one of those people who just throws stuff together to form culinary awesomeness. It's just not something that I enjoy. Dinner never falls very high on my list of priorities and, if it were just me and Alexa eating, she'd have a peanut butter sandwich, I'd have a bowl of dry cereal and everyone would be happy. Now, Nick is different when it comes to dinner. He would love to have a four course meal every night, which obviously doesn't happen in our house...ever. So, when I was pregnant with Katelyn, one of the things that just irked me to no end was Nick coming home from work (at 4:00...plenty of time left for group decision about what to eat) and asking what was for dinner. At that point, having spent my day entertaining Alexa, cleaning, getting ready for the baby (and usually sleeping), the 'what's for dinner' question just really made me want to inflict some major pain. Or hide in a closet. (Or the more likely scenario: hiding in a closet while dreaming about inflicting pain) I imagined that Nick wanted to come home to me wearing a dress, heels and an apron, preparing this fantastic meal while Alexa was quietly sitting at the table teaching herself calculus. Reality was, obviously, just about the opposite. It was a good day when I was able to even take a shower and Alexa was usually running around like a little crazy girl, and occasionally naked (Alexa, not me. It's really hard to keep clothes on that kid!).

Shortly before having the baby, I decided that I had had enough. I realized that he was just asking an innocent question, so I had to come up with a way to answer that question without getting anxious, frazzled and mad. My solution: monthly meal plans. For the past three months, I have made a calendar with dinner planned out for each day. At the beginning of the month, we have one big Publix shopping trip and we only go back to the store half way through the month to get milk and fruit. Not only do we always know what's for dinner, we have saved a lot of money by staying away from the stores. Our meal calendars are posted in the laundry room and on the inside of a kitchen cabinet so everyone knows what's for dinner all the time.
So, Nick calls me at work the other day, from home, as he is standing in front of the refrigerator and as soon as I answer the phone he says "Hey, what's for dinner tonight?". Are you serious? I can't win.

The Apocalypse

Yeah, so I haven't blogged in awhile.  Obviously.  I just haven't really felt like it.  If you didn't know (which, I'm assuming at this point that the only people who are reading my blog are people who know me, in which case you have known for about 4 months now), I'm pregnant again!  Yay!  We are super excited!  We are having another girl, which I am EXTREMELY excited about!  Mostly for three reasons: we already have 95% of what we need, Alexa will have a sister, I don't know what to do with boys.  Nick says that he didn't care either way, boy or girl, but I think that secretly he kind of wanted it to be a boy.  Oh well, that's his fault, not mine.  Anyway, my lack of blogging mostly centers around my complete lack of interest in just about anything recently.  Do you know how people have postpartum depression?  Well I have antepartum bitchiness. Seriously. I joke that I've been in a bad mood for about 27 weeks now, but it's the truth.  Just ask Nick.  Or Hayley.  Poor Hayley, I think she's been on the receiving end of a lot of my bitchiness.  Pretty much, at all times I either want to punch someone in the face or crawl into a dark (quiet) hole.  And apparently this is a real thing (well, maybe not the name "antepartum bitchiness", but the concept).  I have talked to my OB about it and he said that there's medicine I can take but I opted out of that option.  It's gradually getting better (hence the blogging) and my Dr. said that in the third trimester it should stay on that general "getting better" track.  Plus, I didn't want my unborn child to be drugged up.  I'm taking one for the team.  Although, it's the people around me who are probably suffering more than I am.  Ha!  Sucks for you!  Which is the main reason why I have also been staying away from people for the past 27 weeks.  I choose to shield you from my bitchiness.  It's not you, it's me. 

Onto the apocalypse.  Last Friday, while we were waiting for the world to end, Alexa and I dropped off Christmas presents to her teachers.  One of her teachers, Ms. Haley, works part time at a sandwich shop so we brought her present to her there.  Well, that is when part of our little world ended.  Ms. Haley told us that she got her old job back at the state (which she left 4 years ago to have her daughter) and that she's going to be leaving the day care.  We are devastated.  Well, mostly I am devastated.  Alexa hasn't been back to school without Ms. Haley and she didn't quite understand why Ms. Haley was giving her extra hugs and kisses (and crying) at the sandwich shop.  It made me cry too, I'm not gonna lie.  Haley has been one of her teachers since Alexa has been in daycare.  She was the person that Lexi formed an attachment to.  Whenever Alexa was having a bad day or not feeling well, they gave her to Ms. Haley, even if she wasn't in her room at the time.  And, not that the other teachers don't care about Alexa, but I feel like Lexi holds a special place in Haley's heart.  She is one of the few people who Lexi will eagerly leave my side to go to.  And last week, Haley told me that the new baby is going to have a lot to live up to because Alexa is perfect.  So, needless to say, we are mourning.  And there is a distinct possibility that we may become Ms. Haley stalkers (I'm already her friend on facebook). 

On a lighter note, I just spellchecked my post so far and the computer doesn't like the word "antepartum".  It's suggested fix is "underparts".  Hehehe.  Also, Alexa has a new way of getting out of her pull up or underwear.  She pulls them down to her ankles and does a forward roll out of them.  It's awesome.  I want to be just like her.

A Whole Lot of Crazy - part 2

Since Alexa has had the bumpers off of her crib, she has been having a little problem at night keeping her pacis.  She doesn't realize it, but when she's sleeping she throws them on the floor.  The phrase 'active sleeper' just doesn't even begin to describe her.  You have to see it to believe it.  So, on to my story:

I got up for work one morning and everything seemed to be how it should be.  After showering and getting dressed, I was in the kitchen making my oatmeal when I heard a whimpering noise.  It sounded just like Wolfie.  Wait.  I think I should first tell you that about two days before this happened I swear I saw Wolfie in my family room.  Alexa and I were playing in her room and when I looked out her door I know I saw him walk by the couches.  At first I assumed I was crazy, that it must have been one of the girls but then I realized that both girls were sitting right next to me.  This is not even the crazy that I'm going to talk about, either.  I swear that I see people all the time.  Like the ghost at Dance Explosion (that many people have seen) who I know is my grandpa Nettina.  Oh and another time, when I was vacuming, I was positive that I saw grandpa Natwick sitting on my couch.  And the obvious time when grandma Natwick stopped by on her way to heaven to tell me about her chair.  Are you telling me that it is a coincidence that I woke up at the exact time she passed and could think of nothing else but that chair?  OK, I'm getting off track.  Anyway, so it's 5:30 in the morning and I hear a whimpering noise.  First, I dismiss it, thinking that I'm hearing something from the microwave or something outside.  Then it happens again.  And again.  And again.  Enough times that now I know I am hearing something and that it is in the house.  Oh yeah, and it sounds EXACTLY like how Wolfie used to whimper.  Do I think that I have a small child in the other room?  No, of course not.  I immediately jump to the conclusion that my dog has come down from doggie heaven to say hello.  Trying to be sane, I turned on the lights in my room to check on the girls and make sure it wasn't them (Nick was sleeping in the guest bedroom that night - with the monitor.  But that's a whole other story that will take up much too much time).  So anyway, I turn on the lights and Glynnis and Minnie are passed out sleeping.  I'm pretty sure Minnie was snoring, and I'm positive that neither of them were whimpering.  'Great', I think, now I'm just one step closer to crazy.  So what do I do?  I go back out to the kitchen/family room and I'm sneaking around whispering Wolfie's name.  And then I hear it again.  Now I'm sure I'm crazy.  Thoughts of schitzophrenia are running through my head.  Here's the crazy girl who doesn't hear voices.  Oh no, she hears her deceased dog crying for her.  I decide that I need to go wake up Nick because he needs to have me admitted somewhere, he needs to take me to the crazy house and OH MY GOD, why won't that dog stop crying?!?!  It is at this point, when I am about five steps away from the guest room door, that I remember that I have a child.  I walk up to Alexa's door and slowly creep inside her room to find her sitting up, kind of slumped in the corner of her crib.  She looked at me, made her little Wolfie-like whimper and I silently said a small prayer of thanks for the last bit of my sanity.  Apparently, I'm not quite as crazy as I once thought.  When I walked up to Alexa and asked if she was ok, she nodded yes.  And then in a completely big girl and whimper free voice she said "paci fall on floor". 

A Whole Lot of Crazy - Part 1

Alexa has always been great going to bed (when I'm home).  She's one of those kids who you put in the bed, she picks up her paci and bunny, turns on her music, lays down and goes to sleep.  It's a big part of what makes her so incredibly awesome.  So, a few weeks ago (I know, I've been a little too distracted with other things to keep up with the blog lately) we were all doing our usual bedtime routine and for some reason Lexi wanted her paci early.  We are hopefully going to be getting rid of the paci soon, so she only gets it when she is physically in her bed.  So after lots of screaming, we finally put her in the crib, gave her the paci and said good night.  Well, she did not like that at all.  She kept on screaming that she was "all done night night" and after lots of hugs and kisses I just told her it was time to go to sleep and left her in the crib to scream by herself.  No big deal.  I assumed she would just lay down and go to sleep like she always does.  About two minutes later, as I was doing dishes, I looked up to see her door slightly open.  My first thought was 'why did Nick go in there?  She finally quieted down and she needs to just put herself to sleep.'  Then I saw a little 2.5 foot creature in her pink footie pajamas creep around the door, grab the handle and slowly pull it closed.  She turned around to look at me with an expression of equal parts awe, excitement and pure terror.  And then she said "hi".  Crazy girl had climbed out of her crib, somehow (thank God) landed on her feet and decided to come hang out with the grown ups.  We scooped her up and I read her some books as Nick took the bumpers off of her crib.  I know it's something we should have done months ago but she likes her crib so much, I never thought she'd try to climb out of it.  Plus, she's so short the side rails on the crib come up to her armpits.  Even if she used the bumpers to stand on, I thought it'd be impossible for her to actually get out.  Well apparently I have been proven wrong.  As usual.  And after laying on the floor next to her crib pretending to sleep and watching her crawl out not one but two more times that night without the help of the bumpers, I have come to the conclusion that my child has super human upper body strength.  She goes to the front right corner of her crib, grabs onto the outside of the rail and pulls herself up until she can get her right leg up onto the right side rail.  Then she uses her leg to help pull herself up so that she's laying on top of the side rail on her belly and I assume then she swings her legs around to drop and land on her feet (I 'woke up' and stopped her when she got to her belly).  I guess that its a good thing that we drilled into her head to get down from the couch or our bed feet first.  At least maybe that helped her from landing on her head.  Needless to say, we went out and got another video monitor after that night (our first one had broken months ago and we've just been using an audio monitor).  And, so far, she hasn't tried to climb out again.  Which I'm very happy about.  Alexa really does love her crib and, the way that she sleeps, I wouldn't trust her to be in a toddler bed.  Plus, I like knowing that when we put her to bed at night she has to stay there until we get her in the morning.  No night time strolls around the house or midnight play time in her room.  I'm not ready for that yet.