29 Weeks


Only 11 more weeks to go. Which doesn’t sound like a lot but when I’m walking around or trying to switch sides while trying to get back to sleep after waking up to pee (again!), I imagine adding another 11 or so pounds and I don’t know how that’s possible. Obviously it is, but I’m not looking forward to hauling that extra weight around. The other night I actually said to Wes, “Do you think it’s possible I could have been pregnant without knowing for three months and that I’ll deliver any day now?”


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18 Months

Last week Stella turned 18 months old and I know that this is a common thing for parents to say, but this is the best age yet. While we were at the mall a few weeks ago I looked at Wes, carrying Stella on his shoulders and thought back to our first trip to the mall when Stella was still a wee little thing of three months and I said to Wes, “She’s like a little person.” Which, duh, but also so amazing considering what she was at three months. Amazing how much she changed in a year.


We had her 18-month check up, where she weighed in at 22 pounds 4 ounces and 32 1/4 inches long. She still has a giant head, which is evident every time we try to put a shirt over her head, and makes shopping difficult since the rest of her body is relatively small. Buttons have become our best friend.


On our way out of the doctor’s office she started twirling while waiting for the elevator. I have no idea where she saw this, but she’s a twirling machine. It’s part of her dance moves and her go to movement when we’re playing. Last night Wes counted seven twirls in a row. Just watching her makes me dizzy but the smile she gets on her face keeps me watching.

She is repeating so many words lately, which means I’m constantly reminding friends and family (even Wes) to watch their language in front of her. The other night at dinner she asked for her sunglasses, put them on and then said, “Boom.” For the last few months she’s been putting her sunglasses on herself and when she gets them on correctly I tell her, “Boom! Good job!” and clearly that stuck in her head. She whispers words the first few times she says them, testing them out on her tongue, and thank you seems to be the one sign that she doesn’t want to give up. This morning, though, a peacock showed up on the television and she shouted out “Peacock!” We’ve been going to the zoo a lot lately and they have peacocks running around there, but this was the first time she said the name.

Watching her brain at work, trying to figure out her surroundings and learn new things is maybe the best part of the day. Everything is so exciting for her and I love watching her do something simple like put trash in the trash can because she is so proud of herself and so excited to be helping out. She helps empty and load the dishwasher and even though it adds about five minutes to the process, it’s worth it because it keeps her from crying or getting into trouble. A lot of what we do lately takes twice as long because she likes to do it herself, like clasp the buckle on her car seat.

She’ll start talking a lot more in the next few months and the nonsense babbling that she spouts now will fade and become just a memory, like so many other things, so I’m trying to keep it all locked in my memory.


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A Sunday Weekend

I’m not sure that Saturday counts as the weekend any longer, now that Wes is working full days, but if it does then our weekend started rocky. Stella refused to nap for some inexplicable reason. It was too hot (it was really hot)? We didn’t have enough activities planned? Whatever it was, she did not want to sleep and I live for those naps. It gives us both a chance to hit reset and go into the latter half of the day with gusto. It gives me time to clean or make dinner or check those items off of my To Do List. Yes, some days I just sit on the couch and don’t do anything, but most days I take advantage of nap time to get stuff done and come up with a fun plan for the afternoon that doesn’t leave us sitting in the house waiting for cabin fever to set in and Dad to come home. Because when that happens, whoa. Poor Wes walks in from his 14-hour day to grumpy mom and whiny, clingy baby because we just couldn’t get our act together. I try not to have too many of those days. Once a week is my limit and I’m working on eliminating even that one day.

So Saturday I sent Wes a text message asking him when he was coming home because our baby wasn’t napping, the implication being that I was about to break. And when he did come home, way early than I thought he would be able to, the day didn’t seem to get any better. Stella was tired, I was tired, Wes was tired. Tsunami, however, was not tired. And then Stella refused to go to sleep and we finally had to put her in her crib and let her cry for a few minutes before finally giving in, laying down, and falling fast asleep. I should have gone to bed then, too, but I didn’t. I chose to have a Conversation instead and that’s where it all got worse. I won’t bore you with the details but I did realize something Saturday night that I’m not proud of: on those days that seem incredibly long and everything seems to go wrong and I just want to lay in bed and cry, when Wes comes home I don’t greet him with a happy smile or relief in my face. I greet him icily because he’s 15 minutes late in my mind. I spend a lot of time trying to convince him (and myself) that my days are harder than his, and to some extent, he does that as well, but not like I do. I’m not proud of it, and honestly didn’t realize I was doing it. But I am and that’s not fair because our days are both hard: I can’t leave my job behind but his jobs seem to never end, either.

We keep telling each other that this year is going to be rough. Right around the time his hours become less crazy, we’ll add a newborn to our family and the craziness and exhaustion will start up again. I tell myself this on a daily basis but when a rough day happens it does not make it any easier to handle. I’m working on fixing my attitude surrounding my bad days because I can’t keep this up for the next five or six years. Our days are long; I just need to make them as fun as possible.

So it was with that mindset that I woke up on Sunday morning. I took a few items off of Wes’ To Do List and added them to mine because I at least have a few hours a day while Stella’s sleeping to do them, while Wes would have to stay late or go in early to handle them. No big deal. And then we started our day with swim lessons, where Stella was amazing and loved having her dad there to watch her kick and swim and float. Her smile when she popped up and saw him is pretty awesome, and then she would wave like Dad, did you see what I just did? and it was wonderful. After swim lessons we headed over to Kailua for breakfast with some friends and then some beach time. Usually when Wes comes home from work, Stella is already cranky and winding down for bath and bed time so he doesn’t get a lot of play time with her. We’re trying to make up for that on Sundays, and yesterday was no exception. We played in the water and in the sand and Wes built her towers just so she could collapse them and her snuggled up in a towel on his chest is something that I’ll never forget. Unfortunately, no pictures because I forget to charge cameras and our hands were to wet and sandy to take our phones out. We might only get one full day as a family of three, but we’re making the most of it.

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Filed under Family, Hawaii, Relationships are hard, Stella, Wes

21 Weeks

IMG_5969I’m officially 21 weeks today and the single most asked question is: How do you feel this time around. The short answer is that it’s complicated. I hate being pregnant. The baby’s health is fine, as was Stella, and I have no emergency hospital visits or complications, for which I am incredibly thankful. But still, being pregnant is kind of the worst, in my opinion. I don’t throw up as much as I did with Stella and I’m not living on a steady diet of zofran to keep me from throwing up every hour, but I want to throw up and that’s sometimes just as bad as actually doing it. Not all the time, but sometimes. I feel the worst in the evenings, which sucks because that’s the time I get to spend with Wes and instead of enjoying it I’m wondering what I can eat or drink that will possibly make me feel less queasy until I finally decide that just going to bed will be my best course of action. During the day time I try to keep busy so that Stella doesn’t fall into a grumpy mood, which she does if we spend too much time indoors, and that helps to keep my mind off of throwing up.

Pregnancy still seems to be dragging by, yet Stella is growing and changing quickly. I know that the next 19 weeks will fly by, if only because that’s how life works when you’re watching your child grow up. One minute she has no idea what food is and the next she’s asking for blueberries and milk and granola bars. It happens fast.

I finally had to go out and by some maternity clothes. I lost a lot of weight after Stella was born (Gestational Diabetes FTW!) so most of my non-maternity clothes were baggy enough that they fit until last week. Unfortunately, my maternity clothes from Stella are still all too big. So I bought a bunch of maxi skirts (since maternity pants are also the worst) and tank tops because I feel less frumpy and more glowingly pregnant in shirts that accentuate my baby bump instead of leaving people to question whether I’m still just holding on to some holiday weight.

I started to feel this baby move a couple of weeks ago and it really doesn’t get old. Well, it hasn’t yet, anyway. I’m sure by the time week 36 rolls around and he’s running out of room I’ll be more annoyed at the kicking and punching, but right now I love that reminder that there’s a healthy baby in there. Wes is starting to be able to feel a few of the kicks as well and every once in a while I can see my belly move. It will be interesting to see how Stella reacts to the kicks when she can start to feel and see them.


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Oh, Hey, Fancy Seeing You Here

Yes, I still have a blog. It’s just that growing a baby while keeping another one alive is exhausting work. Especially when you’re still throwing up semi-regularly. Not every day, but once a week maybe. This morning I actually had to pull the car over so that I could throw up, which is something that I was hoping to avoid with this pregnancy.

I’m 20 weeks into this, which hopefully means I’m over half way (if Stella’s arrival is any indication, and though I know it’s not I’m still hoping for an early delivery). In some ways it’s gone a lot faster than my first pregnancy but in others it’s just dragging on. But that’s pregnancy for you. This is my last one so I know I should be looking for ways to enjoy it but mostly I’m just counting down the days until I will never be pregnant again.

Because I had gestational diabetes with Stella I had to take the glucose test at 11 weeks. I took three tests last time (one 1-hour and two 3-hour) and after getting one sip of that horrible drink (which isn’t so horrible if you only have to drink it once), I would be lying if I said that a failing test would have upset me. At least then I wouldn’t have to continue taking that test. I passed, though, and not just barely, either. Not that that’s given me license to go hog wild with my diet. No, sugar makes me sick (unless it’s in fruit, thankfully) so I’m constantly scanning nutritional information to see what I can eat and how much. Even sugar free things (like this delicious dark chocolate) are lies because they use sugar alcohols, which are only slightly better than sugar. So all those Baby Center notices I get telling me to indulge in ice cream because it’s full of calcium and the baby needs that just add more salt (or, in this case, sugar) to the wound. I eat a lot of fruit and drink a lot of milk and that seems to sate and sweet tooth I may have had. I don’t even care for milk usually but this pregnancy I can’t seem to get enough of it.

We found out a few weeks ago that we’re having a boy, which shocked us both, though I don’t know why. I know that children are different, even when they’re the same gender (take a look at our nieces), but if we were having another girl I could have easily convinced myself that she would sleep/eat/behave just as well as Stella has. Having a boy means that I’m forced to face the fact that babies are different and he could be a horrible sleeper/eater who cries all the time and that scares the heck out of me. So what I’m doing now is taking credit for a lot of Stella’s personality that may have nothing to do with our parenting at all, but at least this way I can stop worrying and tell myself that I will teach this boy how to be awesome in those areas. All you parents of more than one kid, hush yourself. I need to believe this to get through the next five months.

We have boxes and boxes of girl clothing that I need to go through and sort and decide what goes to which of my friends (and maybe family) having girls. I’m keeping one box for my brother for when he might some day have a baby girl (mostly those adorable and expensive dresses my mom bought ) and the rest will get divided among the new baby girls we know. Right now our closet is just boxes full of clothes and I’m looking forward to having these out of our house. We are running short on space so every bit of storage counts.

We still haven’t decided on sleeping arrangements, though for the time being everything is staying the same and the baby will go in our room while we have my parents and then Wes’ mom with us after he’s born. This is also something that I think about daily and is stressing me out. When we moved to Hawaii four years ago we thought we’d be here for 2 1/2 – 3 years; that we’d maybe bring an infant home here but no way would we have two. And we have no idea of how much longer we’ll be here.

So that’s what’s going on in my brain. I can’t nap anymore because it makes sleeping through the night impossible, so hopefully I’ll get back here to regale you with more fun stories of baby clothes and storage issues.

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Mustache Monday


Oh, you guys. This is what’s happening on my husband’s face while I’m trying not to freeze in New York. I do not remember it getting so full last year. At least by the time I see him again, he’ll only have a few more days of Movember. If you want to donate , there’s still time.

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Filed under Movember, Wes

Mustache Monday

Having a weekly post that’s dependent on your husband sending in photos is proving to be a little difficult. Luckily he let me take four silly pictures last night. IMG_5416

So here we are, 11 days into Movember and the mustache is starting to fill in. Last week it was still looking a little beardy so when I made an appointment to have our photos taken this Sunday, I didn’t think about his facial hair at all. I think if he doesn’t shave this week then by Sunday it might be beard-like and not so mustachy. We’ll see.


There’s still time to donate. He’s got 50% of his goal amount met and we’re not even half way through the month. Keep those pennies coming, folks!IMG_5418

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Filed under Movember, Wes