My baby, she's three

Children running rampant, in that awesome, chaotic, wonderful kind of way.  Adults sharing, 'catching up', and passing around the babies.  A lovely chorus of 40 voices bestowing wishes of a happy day unto the most beautiful part of my life: Rosanna.  

In short, her birthday party was perfect.  

playing under the OTP tables with cousins and friends

ready to open presents at home

who needs cake when there's frosting?

fun time at Incredible John's

mission: birthday exhaustion, complete!

Hey body...

Hey body-

Let's just feel normal tomorrow.  I have dishes to do, ironing, laundry and a bathroom that is, well...yuck.  Oh, and that clutter that's building up needs a new home.  So, whaddya say?  Truce?  I wouldn't mind getting a solid night sleep too, if that's not asking too much.  It'd make my trek out the door for a Monday morning walk a lot less difficult.

That is all.

Three wonderful things

Here are three wonderful things that happened today:

1.
At the Zoo, Rosanna's friend fell and was pretty upset for a bit.  Rosanna knew she liked the leaves that had fallen and so picked one up and gave it to her so that she, "could feel better".  I love that my daughter has a heart that thinks and acts in such a loving manner.  I couldn't be a prouder Momma.

2.
I took my second prenatal yoga class.  It's tough.  It's relaxing.  It's an hour and a half!

3.
My kiddo was a hoot at dinner.  She told all the severs at Thai Garden about the crocodile she saw today and cracked herself up each time.  She told elaborate stories and kept up with the conversation at the table.  She ate all of her curry and asked for more.  She said "please" and "thank you" without being prompted.  She's amaze-sauce.

Funny thing

I'm pregnant, so you're gonna get a pregnant blog.  Yet, I'm not really in the 'pregnant body' mind set.  My body's not messing around though.  The belly is big, the veins are gnarly, the sciatic is mean.  I make grunting noises when I get up and walking up a slight incline induces labored breathing.  I know I'm pregnant, I know what sort of allowances pregnant bodies should get and yet I don't put myself in that category.  It's time to start.
I'm dead tired at the end of the day.  I sit there and think, "What did I do today to warrant such tiredness?".  Well, duh.  My body is simply doing the impossible: growing another life.  No biggie though, carry on as usual.
Except don't!  I'm ready to accept the realities of my situation: I need a break.  I will sit down more; I will not chastise myself for the few things I accomplished in a day.  I will say to myself, "Good job!  You carried life today!".  Granted, there are a few commitments in my future that are going to require me to step it up and give it all (not like, half-marathon style).  I'll just have to muscle through those few days.  And there won't be any more added to the plate.
You hear that, self?!  No more!  Just chill, K?

Bronchioles and such

Since Monday our baby has been ill.  Temperature swings, snot and a horrendous cough.  I don't know if you know this, but the regular store doesn't have cough meds for the "under 4" group.  Every last one of them is for kids 4 and up.  However, the natural foods store has about 5 different options.  So this time, and in the past, we hit up Sunrise Natural Foods and stocked up.  But this time, unlike the past, nothing helped.

So today, day five, I called the doctor and was immediately told to come in.  The gnarly cough that interrupted our consult was enough.  And that's how we ended up spending the morning in the doctor's office.  Three breathing treatments, two chest x-rays and one oral steroid later the doc ruled out pneumonia and settled on "bronchiolitis".

Now we are home with orders to stay home for two days.  We have our own breathing treatment machine (nebulizer) with meds and an additional prescription.  We're on the breather every four hours today and every six hours tomorrow.  Phew!

Our Ro, she's a trooper.  She took this morning in stride, wearing her breathing mask like a champ and standing extra still for x-rays.  What a champ!!

The difference in her demeanor right now compared to 24 hours ago is remarkable.  The meds are definitely helping.  Her chatter factor is back in force.  I didn't realize the reprieve my ears were getting!  We should be good to go for Christmas- hip, hip hooray!

Christmas Mania

Have I told you how much I love being a Mom?  Sometimes I wonder what the heck I ever did with my time before the wee-one.  I seemed so busy, always running.  Surely the pre-kid "me" didn't have such noble duties to accomplish daily.  Yet I am more on top of my game now than I ever was with so much more free-time on my hands.  How is that possible?

This Christmas has been one of the most festive since I moved out and had to start creating my own holiday magic.  With Ro old enough to be in the Santa conversation and the idea of giving gifts one that she can now wrap her head around, it's been awesome!  We've made ornaments, she single handedly decorated our tree and she has suggestions for what we should buy for others (Uncle Chuck almost got a 'decorate it yourself' stuffed animal kit).  My Christmas spirit is through the roof!  I've made a "Merry Christmas" banner for our window, a salt dough garland for over the t.v. and transformed the shallow shelving into a snow scene with lights, snow flakes and construction paper trees.  Also, I decided that at this year's OTP Christmas party, we'd ditch the ornament decorating of the last 2 years and make gingerbread houses.  Ethan and I constructed 11 graham cracker houses last night and tonight they are being adorned with all sorts of goodies at the party.
And what about shopping for your own kid?!  Last year we didn't buy her anything.  This year I can hardly contain myself.  I know that gifts don't equal happiness, and I can't freaking wait to see her open the things we've picked out.  She's gonna LOVE it.  I even got her one more thing (I had said I was finished, you see) at the Disney store yesterday.  I think I need to be quarantined to my house.

Merry Christmas!

Shmirthday

I get asked every year what I want to do for my birthday.  Truth is, I can no more pull that answer out of my brain than spin straw into gold.  Is it the near complete giving up of myself to show up fully for my kid that as shoved the possibility of 'doing for me' out the window?  For 364 days I check out of "Mel" and into "Mom" and that's a hard habit to break.  I don't even want to talk about the unjustifiable guilt, sheesh.  If I do come up with something it's extravagant.  As in, "keep dreaming sister".  In which case I don't bother to bring it up and wave around the fact that what I really want we can't afford.
Let's just say I want a day to myself.  Well, what now?  Do I sit on my keester and watch re-runs of Top Chef?  'Cause really, a day to myself sounds like heaven in that all the dishes would be done, laundry put away, floors scrubbed, base boards wiped, windows shined, E's work shirts ironed....happy birthday to me!
I'd rather my birthday just went by without any obligations, without any guilt that E spent money on something which is really our money so it's not like some free and clear gift.
So, yeah.