Somehow we went from thinking about trying for a sibling for the MB to actually deciding to go for it. Not really sure when or where that happened but it apparently did. Well, I suppose “apparently” is not the right term when you put down an $18k deposit on your treatment protocol and schedule an HSG to make sure your insides are still in one piece, right?
That’s what we did…$18k (half the total cost this time) to reserve our place for a cycle to happen in 2013. This is yet another step in the Crazy Town life that we apparently live. We have a home renovation that is not complete, jobs that we hate and yet here we are…trying for another child.
Just my luck, I’ll end up with more than one sibling for the MB and have mondo babies this time around. But, to quote our pal Dr. Seuss, “it will all work out all right you see.”
Now that the MB is closer to two than not, the questions have really begun in earnest. You know which ones…”are you having another?” I still have not figured out how that is anyone’s business but ours and yet the universe, aprticularly the work universe, feels that it is an acceptable conversation topic. Now I barely know where all the people in my hallway live so why on earth would they feel that they can ask me questions about my reproductive plans? I used to try and be polite when people asked inappropriate questions but I could really give a crap anymore.
I had someone ask today; someone who I have spoken to maybe 10 times in as many months. My answer, “MB took 4 years and $55k to have.” One would think that this was a conversation ending statement. One would, in fact, be incorrect.
The conversation continued, “circumstances are all different but I have heard that it can be easier to have another child once you have already had one.” I tried, yet again, to end this line of questioning with “trust me, that is never, ever going to be the case.” Did it end there friends and neighbors? No.
We had to continue with the “really? are you sure?” I am not sure what she wanted but I don’t think standing on the table and screaming that “yes, I am quite sure that I did not spend $55k to have a child because I thought it would be fun and yes I am certain that I will not have another one without intervention because my bits and parts are fairly well busted.”
I guess it’s all part of the lack of a filter on most of the human race. The universe comments on everything anonymously so why be civil in actual, real life right? I think I’ll ask the next questioner where they got their experience as a reproductive endocrinologist since they seem to know more than the other 4 that I went to over 4 years to get the MB. Think that will end the chatter?
After an uneventful first 18 months with barely any sickness, the MB was hit by his second illness since the June barf bonanza. This one was Hib which presents with ear infections and, wait for it, conjunctivitis. Yes, ladies and gentlemen, we had pink eye in the house. The MB made it to the pediatrician before the ears were really impacted and we were able to nip the ole pink eye before it got too terrible..yay for Peanut.
Unfortunately both the husband and I were left battling nasty colds and, you guessed it, pink eye after the MB was well on the mend. Never having experienced the ick of conjunctivitis before, I was not terribly impressed by the yellow yuck that kept coming out of my eyes. Poor little Peanut had to go to daycare over the Columbus weekend and we never made out way out of town as we had planned. At least we’re mostly mended now!
Hard to believe the MB is 21 months old…how is that even possible? His vocabulary has positively exploded and he is using appropriate words, or his version, more often than not. This means that not everything is a “car” any longer and we can actually have something resembling a conversation. I took him shopping for jeans yesterday, for me not him, and the child has opinions. I would grab a pair and get an emphatic “NO” before I even tried and lo and behold…those jeans looked like crappola. Fashionable and smart too.
How did it get to be the end of August already? It was just the beginning of the summer when I get to enjoy the slightly lighter commuter traffic. Now Labor Day is around the corner and all those other drivers will be back on the roads clogging up my already dreadful commute. The MB will need to be ready to head out the door by 7:35 again for me to have any chance of getting to work by 9. That doesn’t sound unreasonable until you understand that our new favorite word is, of course, “no.”
Me: Do you want some water?
Me: Do you want to take a bath?
Me: Do you want to jump up and down and run screaming down the hall naked?
MB: No (and then he runs down the hall…)
I guess this is the beginning of real toddler behavior. Mr. MB is fabulous – now over three feet tall and 35 pounds in all of his 19 month old glory. I am shocked by the size of the clothes we need to buy – 3T and sometimes 4T on the bottom and almost all 4T on the top. We bought new shoes (again!) on Friday and needed size 8w as he measured right at about a 7.5w. That means his current shoes just fit now and we are about ready for the bigger size. Since I already had a pair of size 8 sneaks in the house, I bought another pair for reserve in an 8.5. I was not prepared that over a size 8 means you are shopping in the “pre-school” section of the store not the “baby” section any longer.
While I love that the MB is becoming a little person, I can’t help but mourn the loss of my little Peanut. Now I have a toddler who is starting to find his own identity and exert some independence. That is a wonderful, scary scenario which will be exciting to watch unfold!
I know all parents think their children are brilliant so why should I be any different. TMB is not the most verbal toddler on the block but he has some serious comprehension vocabulary. I keep thinking that when he decides to talk more, yes I do mean to say “when he decides,” that it will be in sentences.
He is following complex instructions like, “remember what happens when we stand in the tub?” at which point he sits back down. I did not tell him to sit, I only asked him to remember what happens when we stand…it means we leave the tub so he sat back down. He looks at his books and then matches up the pictures in the book with real items from his substantial toy collection. So that means, car photo/drawing with toy car and seahorse photo with stuffed toy. It seems like a higher level of thinking from just pointing and holding out items. But perhaps that is just the boastful parent speaking!
We went from a 9 1/2 month old with one lone tooth to a 16 month old with a dozen. Boy was it an eventful 7 months.
TMB had his first (and second) ear infection at Christmas. Poor little guy was miserable as can be dealing with the pain. And as we learned throughout the teething process…the little man does not handle pain well at all. I think we need stock in baby ibuprofin. Thankfully the antibiotics did the trick for the ear infection but poor munchkin also ended up with a lovely diaper rash and impetigo thanks to the meds killing the ear infection. Poor guy was swallowing his meds plus dealing with not one but two different ointments for different skin ailments. He was a trooper though.
We made the trek to Orlando for my Disney half marathon on TMB’s first birthday. Little man got ear infection number two thanks to the flight. Again he was a trooper and handled the meds well with the infection clearing by the time we made it home. THe good news is that Mama finished the half – albeit in super slow fashion – so I have that memory for his first birthday.
I never thought I would be one of those militant breastfeeding mothers yet here I am. I have a giant 9 month old who still wants to cuddle and nurse throughout the day and night. How can I possibly think about stopping?
The extra exciting part is that I, apparently, am a dairy cow. I produce so much more milk than TMB needs, I have donated three times. The first two donations were without incident. DH met the recipients in a parking lot to swap out the milk. Recipient number one was kind enough to provide me with milk storage bags. Recipient number two gave DH goat milk kefir and goat meat. Both of these donations were facilitated through milkshare.com. Great website and great result.
The third donation was a little more casual…met someone at a consignment sale and started chatting. We talked about nursing and when I mentioned having donated milk, she asked if I would give her some. Ok, donation done, right? Not so much. Recipient number three keeps sending text messages about how her daughter doesn’t want the milk. Not sure what I am supposed to do about that. Frankly, you took the milk, deal with it. If you want to throw it away, just throw it away and don’t tell me about it since it was my time, money and love for my own child in those bags.
No good deed goes unpunished, right?