A Whiney Post

Oh my freaking heck!  That's right, I'm Mormon and I say "Oh my freaking heck!".

Anyway, I finally coordinated a nap time, an actual nap time, where all my little monkey's are sleeping.  I'm so exhausted, I ran into a wall.  I'm officially a level 9 tired (10 being the walking dead).

So, I'm drifting off to sweet, sweet sleep when I hear, "Bang! Bang! Bang!" on the front door.  I know what it is.  It's the neighbor girl.  So...I ignore it.  Wipe the drool off my face and yawn, turn over and try to go back to sleep.  "Bang! Bang! Bang!" 

What tha...go away!

"BANG BANG BANG BANG BANG BANG BANG BANG!" 

Just ignore it...just ignore it...

And then, "Can them come play!" being yelled in through my window.  Oh my freaking heck!  Just ignore it!!

"Can them come and play!!"

Are you FREAKING kidding me?

So I open the door, stomp my way to the front door, and surprisingly in a calm voice a little bit shaky with the insanity that's now leaking through, explain, "We are napping.  If we don't answer the door, you need to stop knocking.  Do NOT yell in our window." 

She just stands there.  "Go home."

SERIOUSLY?  Now I'm too awake to go back to sleep.  My heart is pounding, I'm livid.  And can I just say, if Brett complains even once today that he's tired, he's gonna lose a limb.  He got a three hour nap yesterday.   

Now give me some cheese with my whine. 

Kelly Off to Cry

It's Been...Interesting

I forget about some things that come along with beautiful newborns.

Okay, I didn't forget forget,  I was simply in placenta denial.  Anything would be better than having contractions every few minutes.

I am tuhiiiiiiiired.  My sweet angel with the sharp elbows wakes up every hour to eat.  And somehow I manage to be happy and smile every time.  She's got me wrapped around her long, skinny fingers.  I'm in love.  (Brett's OBSESSED, but that's an entirely separate post, I'm not even kidding.)

Cohen started Kindergarten today, pictures and complete emotional breakdown to follow.

Kembry is reacting...I don't want to say negatively, just...differently...since little tyke came home.  I'm going to try and be more positive and kind and loving with her.  Pray for me.  Pray hard. 

I haven't died.  I'm just simply in a I-haven't-slept-in-two-weeks-and-my-oldest-is-leaving-me coma.  I walk around with wet spots over my milk bags.  I just took my first shower in a week.  I don't remember what it's like to wear makeup.  But I'm perfectly happy. 

Ask me in another month and we'll see how perfectly "happy" I'll be then...

Kelly Off to Bed (for at least an hour...)

Dear Kimberly,

Once upon a bed rest, I googled "irritable uterus", and your hilarious blog popped up.

You made  me laugh, you made me cry, you became a beacon of sarcasm through the darkness of seriousness that was my life for 20 some odd weeks.

But now my sympathetic suffering has taken on a new meaning.  I've broken out in three different rashes.

Now, they're nothing like your horrible, weeping, wailing, disgusting (sorry) horror of a rash.  But seriously, three different rashes? 

How did you deal, sister?  We are bound by more than our angry baby bags now.  I itch with you, my friend.  I think of you with each satisfyingly painful scratch.  Give me guidance!

Love,

Me

Rough Night

And not because of the baby.  Entirely.

Brett decided he wasn't tired and played his guitar until 1:30 A.M. when I booted him out of the bedroom.

Then Chloe woke up every hour to eat.  Which is FABULOUS, considering the more she eats, the more she poops, the more bilirubin she gets out of her little system, the sooner I can smother her with my kisses and never put her down.

*Yawn*  But I am tuhiiiiiired this morning.  Morning?  Well, practically morning...at least for another half hour.  I wish I could abuse caffeine right now...smack it around a little bit...show it whose boss...

Anyone wanna go get me a fountain coke and three hundred donuts?

The kids, thank heavens, are blissfully playing out in the new sandbox my dear plays-his-guitar-at-all-hours-of-the-morning husband built for them.  Though, I'm not enjoying the bucket loads of sand I'm finding all over the house.  Anyone have any ideas how to avoid that little side effect?  Hose 'em down before they come in?  Sick the blower on 'em?  Vacuum them?  Everything is all grainy...

Kelly *YAWN* Out

Oweeeeeeee

I. Tore. My. Episiotomy.

Ouch.

Ice has never been a better friend to me.  And this is saying something after 7 years with a herniated disc.

It's going to take twice as long to heal.

But, the good news is, I got a way cute little baby out of it.  Now where did I put her?....

Placenta Brain

I totally love having three children.

Well, Chloe doesn't do much.  Mostly just lays in her tanning bed looking cute, squawking, smelling like a cute little baby and squirming.

But Cohen and Kembry absolutely melt my heart with all the kisses they give their new little sister.  How excited they are to show their friends.  How they always ask where she is, when is she going to wake up, can we hold her, pllllleeeeeasssse.

Yes, I love having three children.

And thanks to placenta brain, I may soon forget the pregnancy, and want a fourth...but let's make sure Chloe survives first.  And then we'll have to figure out a way to convince my uterus and Brett...probably a long way off.

Kelly Out

Princess: The Sequel

Having had a pregnancy with "complications" (stupid uterus), there were a lot of warnings thrown at us about "what could happen" if the ol' uterus kicked her out early.

And they had us properly scared.  For the most part, Chloe was one pampered fetus.

Even as I was pushing, my masked doctor was spouting out possible problems.

"She may only weigh in the 5 pound range."

"She may need oxygen."

"She may have problems regulating her temperature."

"She may be a democrat*."

I mean, I wanted to suck her back in...I was horrified.

But then I hear the gasp from three different people, and the "Whoa, she's huge!"

Weighing in at a whopping 6 pounds 13 ounces, and 20 inches, Chloe is our biggest baby yet.

But our biggest baby has jaundice.

So sad.

So, she's in Mexico gettin' a sweet tan while I sit and pine because I can't hold her every second of the day.

Poor baby.  (I mean me.)

Kelly Out

*Actually, even though Brett and I are not registered democrats, we have no problems with the ol' demo's.  We agree with a lot of their points of view, and think that a bi-partisan government is a big waste of time, energy, and resources.  Then again, Brett's a Libra and I literally can't make up my mind about anything...so...

Totally worth it.

Hail the Conquering Hero!

So...I totally had a baby last night!

Sweeeeet.

Chloe Susan
6 lb 13 oz
20 in
7:13 p.m.

Pictures to come...

Thanks for all your love and support and prayers and sarcasm, all of which without I would've been super miserable the last 20 weeks =)

Kelly OUT!

My Poor Baby

Not the girl, the other one.  The boy.

My kids are never sick.  Never, ever, never. 

On Wednesday, I had a wicked headache and a fever.  It passed by the next day.  The next day, Kembry had a fever and was throwing up.  It passed by the next day.

Today, I should've known, but how could I?  He never gets sick.

He didn't want to go to Primary.  That should've been my first clue.

He came home and slept for two hours.  That should've been my second clue.

He didn't want to play when we got to Papa's house.  I should've phoned in the ambulance at this point.  Instead, I gave him some drugs (the legal kind, calm down) and he seemed to be doing better. 

Until 7 o'clock tonight.  My poor baby had a 103.5 fever and a really bad headache.  And probably the worst mom in the world.  So we took him to the urgent care, and there doesn't seem to be anything wrong with him, aside from the severe fever and wicked headache.  How do you people do it?  Sick kids every other month?  Ear infections, runny noses, poopies, sore throats...I've been too spoiled.  Having a baby again might just put me into shock.

Amoxicillin, you had better fix my baby.  Or I'm coming after you, Yellowstone Mama Bear Style.

Kelly Out

Legit

37 weeks baby!  Woo hoo!

Too legit, too legit to quit!

Sorry, the nurse at Brett's ENT office said, "Oh, you're almost 37 weeks.  So you're almost legit."  Cracked me up.  Anyway, this is how I celebrate.  By posting.  On blogger.  At 30 minutes to the midnight hour.  When I should be in bed.

I have issues.

Love you all!

Kelly Out

Back in the Saddle Again

Seeing as how I'm "officially" off bedrest tomorrow, I've put on a few of those hats I had hung up for the bedrest beast.

Today, I mowed the lawn.  It was fantabulous.  I love mowing our lawn.  Well, first, we have a riding lawn mower.  Second, we have a HUGE and BEAUTIFUL yard.  Mowing our lawn is probably one of the fastest ways to get instant gratification.  Not to mention it smells like heaven.

Last night I did a ton of laundry, cleaned the kids room (I deserve a medal just for that) including cleaning the carpets.  I also scrubbed, that's right, scrubbed the bathroom from top to bottom.  Well, from 5'2" top to bottom. 

I did four loads of blanket laundry at the nifty laundromat (when did going to the laundromat become exciting and fun, almost vacation-like?  Oh yeah, when I had two kids and a washer and dryer in the basement...)

AND STILL NO FREAKING BABY!  All this bedrest for nothing, I say.  Even though I've been having contractions since about 1 a.m. coming every 2 to 3 minutes apart...I just don't feel they're doin' it for me or my cervix.  C'mon, pick it up uterus.  Now's your chance to get back at me for whatever offense you imagine I've made...

Kelly OUT!  Woo hoooooooooo!

(I literally sang "Back in the Saddle Again" while I was mowing the lawn, in between contractions.  It was very exciting.  As you can see, I'm easily pleased.  I have SO missed mowing my lawn!!)

Tough Life

Watching my husband clean is like watching a toddler take on the worlds easiest Easter egg hunt.  "There's something you can put away!"  "Where?"  "Right there!"  Looks around cluelessly.  "Where?!"

Or watching a puppy play with the shiny light on the wall (have you ever done that?  It's hilarious!)  He scans the room about six hundred times, trying to decide where to start.  Or, trying to avoid where to start.

Or a teenager being punished.  Lots of loud sighs.

And for some reason, a phenomenon I know is linked to more men than just my husband, he thinks vacuuming ends the cleaning.  Even if the cleaning isn't done, if the vacuum has been used, cleaning is done. 

I think I'm just going to mow the lawn first next time and say all the yard work is done.

Or set the table and say dinner is done.

Or go to sleep and say...you know what...is done.

But seriously, he's a good man to at least try.  After many down-on-my-knees tears-in-my-eyes pleadings.  Still, at least he's doing it.  While I sit on the couch and supervise (blog).  It's important to maintain a look of, "I asked you a long time ago to do this.  Don't try getting out of it.  Don't give me that look." 

AND the kids are napping.  He doesn't know how easy he's got it!

Kelly Down

S.A.H.M.

My cousin made a valid point concerning the occupation of stay-at-home-mom.

It's hard work, but one of the many perks is the occasional lazy day.  Though, as any s.a.h.m. knows, that which you don't do today multiplies exponentially and turns into a giant of green goo with toys stuck all over it and stinky kids orbiting around it.

Times that by 4 months and you'll get a pretty good idea of what my house looks like.

I've done the bathroom, and can barely breathe.  I had to take a break before finishing the kids, uh, well, technically "room", though "trash hole" sounds more accurate.  I'm just throwing in the towel and taking the wash to the Laundromat.  (Get it, throwing in the towel, hahaha...oh man, I really need a vacation...)

Love you all.  If I don't make it out by next week...wait longer...

Kelly Down

A Dialogue

It's summer.  I'm 36 weeks and 4 days pregnant.  It's summer.  The kids were being...kids.  Bless their annoying little hearts.

Me: Why don't you go outside and play?

Kembry: Because, we'll be alone.

Me: You do realize you're both human, and when you're together, you're not alone?

Cohen: When Kembry and me are together, we're still alone. (We're working on the grammar.)

A deep stare.  Silence.

Me: Um, did you check in the kitchen for that toy you were looking for?  (I.E. please leave me alone for a minute.)

Cohen: No. 

Me: How come?

Cohen: Because you're wrong. 

Silence.  Deep glare.  They're now in the kitchen helping daddy.  Bless him.

Kelly Down

Feeling It

I have a few fun sewing projects I want to get off the ground but...to be honest...I'm just not feeling up to it!

I'm loving these contractions now because I can tell they're doing something: I feel a tiny head grinding down my cervix with each hard push.  Sometime last night I became resigned to holding onto baby girl a little while longer.  Perhaps it was finding out that two Senior Missionaries are returning to our ward and will be speaking on Sunday, and I really want to be there.  Or it could be that I'm feeling the stubborn spirit inside me will come when she's ready, and no amount of walking, lunging, or yoga ball bouncing will convince her otherwise.  Though the yoga ball bouncing was actually really comfortable.  I may have to invest in one of those...

The nice thing about the forced delay (what delay?  I'm only 36 weeks pregnant!  I know, I know...) is that I've been able to get a lot of nesting done.  Last night Brett and I went through the kids toys.  When we were done, Brett rubbed his fingers together and grimaced.  "My fingers feel yucky."  Haha, yeah, their toys were kinda gross.  And I'd be happy happy to never own another Happy Meal toy again.  Psht, like that'll happen!

Brett and I are going to the temple tonight for a date.  We're even having dinner there, which gets me super excited, because I love LOVE the cafeteria food at the temple.  I'm easy to please.  I have a feeling this may be our last date night for awhile...but that's okay!  That's one thing about life, it keeps going on.  Babies are born, and then they turn into toddlers and then pretty soon they're starting kindergarten, but we won't talk about that because I can't stand crying anymore.  I can't believe my baby, MY FIRST BORN, will be officially snipping the proverbial umbilical cord and leaving me half a day everyday.  Traitor.

But maybe...

Kelly Down

PostIt Note Tuesday: Conclusions

In Honor of Monday

To get from my front door to my couch, you will need to trip over the following:

A pair of high heels that failed to put me into labor yesterday at church.
A satin vampire cape.
A giant turkey roasted (in box).
A bill.  An unopened bill.  My favorite kind.
A big blue IKEA bag containing everything from our mini-van. 

In order to sit on my couch, you'll need to move the following:

A collection of O'Henry short stories.
A pair of black gaucho's.
"Scarlett"
Better Homes and Gardens New Garden Book
A play ironing board.
A pair of 4T shorts.
My scriptures.
And last but not least, a play ironing board.  Oh, did I already mention that? (Seriously, why is it out here?!).

In order to wake me up from this afternoons nap, you'll risk:
Every working limb on your body.
Your beating heart.
One or both of your eyes, depending on how good my aim is.

G'Night New York!

Kelly OUT!

A few things I learned in church today:

• Get rid of fear and faith will flourish.
• You may go with a small cup, but you can ask for a bigger cup while you're there.  I did, and it worked.
• Pushing through the pain (physical, emotional, mental, whatev) is worth it.
• 3 hours is not enough.  Bring the Spirit home.
• The best way for your children to learn is by example.  I absolutely know this.
• Relief Society women make me feel beautiful.  On the outside especially, which is where it really counts.  (I kid.  I kid.)

I love what our Stake President said in Relief Society (it was Ward Conf. today).   He said he saw a direct correlation to a drop in sacrament meeting attendance with that of Relief Society attendance.  When women don't come to church, neither do their families.  That's right ladies.  We already knew it, but we're the rock.  We're the foundation.  We're the get-up-and-go that our husbands need, otherwise they would never go to church.  And our children would look like rocks caked in mud and dirt and would wear white socks with their black church shoes.  Yuck.

But he also said that our Heavenly Father knows us personally, as if we were his only child.  I...don't know what to say.  I know how much I know and love my own daughter, who is not my only child.  I know how I would do anything for her, how I love to teach her and see her grow.  Just knowing how much I love Kembry, in my mortal, temporal way, helps me know just how much my Heavenly Father knows and loves me and how he wants the best for me, just like I do for Kembry. 

And He knows you too, as if you were his only child.

Kelly Down

The Dreams Have Begun

You know those pregnancy dreams? The crazy ones with helium filled floating babies and infants born with tails?

I've managed to avoid them this whole pregnancy.  My mind powers are incredible.  Okay, I've just been lucky.

Last night I had some crazy wicked contractions which would wake me up mid-dream making it oh-so-convenient to remember them all.

Baby girl had teeth and creepy freaky eyes.

Baby girl weighed about 50 pounds.

Baby girl was born, and I couldn't find her, and they wouldn't bring her to me.

Baby girl could WALK two minutes after being born.  For some reason, this was freakiest.

I had to find baby girl so I could nurse, but I couldn't find her, so all my milk dried up and I was sure she was going to die from starvation.  Obviously this wasn't the 50 pound baby girl.

Anyway, hope you all had a less eventful, psycho dream filled night.

Kelly Down

Antoine Dodson

I don't normally hop on the YouTube band wagon and share funny videos and what not. In fact, that ranks right up there with, "Wanna see cute pictures of the ceramic kitten figurine I found at the swap meet?" Um, no, thanks. But this was hilarious. The first is the "real" news story, the second is...well...a must watch. I found this on Confessions of a Working Mom (which, for some reason, I can't add the link, but she's on my blog roll.) Enjoy.

Pitocin Please?

On my journey to induce labor, I'm realizing how much my uterus really hates me.

I used to give it a bad look, it would contract.  Kiss my husband, contract.  Read a book, contract.  Eat a brownie (mmmm, brownie) contract.

Today I walked to my BF's house: NOTHIN'!  C'mon...I think my uterus is secretly laughing at me right now.

Good news (there's always some!) I lost four pounds in one week!  That's generally a sign that labor is in sight.  And considering how much I've been eating, and man, I've been eeeeating, I'll take it as a sign.  I'll take anything.  I can't wait to meet and kiss those little knees that are sliding along inside of me right now!  So cute!

Kelly Down

I Need Duct Tape

Cohen went on his first adventure without us.  Or without telling us.  Or without permission.

You get my drift?

The little slug took off with his partner-in-crime, the little girl who lives next door, to go to the little girls older sisters school.  Catch all that?

To sum up, they took off and we were all frantic.  For a good 45 minutes, which is just under the time it would take to put me into labor due to stress and worry.  Shoot.

So now we have to decide: how to punish the little troll?

We took away his t.v., video games, and computer games.  That's right, our five year old dabbles in all media.  We're no respecter or time wasters.

But he had plans to go to a baseball game tomorrow night with his Papa.  I'm wondering, should we let him go?  Do we punish the old man for Cohen's big naughty?  Cohen's pretty shaken up, but he's not acting really sombre (Brett had a talk with him.  "You need to act sad, like you feel bad for what you've done."  Obviously we don't care if he really feels bad, as long as he tricks us into thinking he does!)

Anywho, what would you do, aside from duct taping him to his bed for the next 20 years?

Kelly Down

No News Is...Boring

Bed rest = extremely boring life = infrequent and/or boring posts.

Better nothing than boring, right?  Am I right, people?  Yes, I'm right.

Nothing much goes on in my my life glued to the couch.  Although, I did sneak away and see a movie with the BF (that's "best friend" mom, not "boyfriend").  We saw Knight and Day.  It was pretty funny, especially considering her husband is just like the hero.  Freaking hilarious.

I am being very naughty (Abbie, get ready with that twitchy eye) and have decided that I'm just going to let nature take it's course at this point.  No more drugs.  No more sitting for 10 to 12 hours a day.  Just, let it happen.  I'm at a breaking point.  18 weeks on bed rest is just not as fun as you would think.  I'm not going out of my way to get the show on the road, although I did wear high heels to church on Sunday.  I don't know what that means, but it felt like some sort of labor induction.

Plus, I really, really, really hate that terbutaline.  The twitching was comical for awhile, but now it's just annoying.  And the constant headache that came with it got old after a few weeks. 

So, that's where I am.  I'm here, on the couch, watching bad daytime t.v. missing my babies and enjoying the last few *fingers crossed* days of baby wiggles in an angry uterus.  I honestly think Baby Girl is okay with this decision.  I mean, imagine if your one bedroom apartment constantly compressed, squishing you down into a bony, small, hole every few minutes.  Pretty crappy, right?

I'm getting pretty good and justification and rationalization.  I should teach a seminar to the delusional after this =)

Kelly Down