Wednesday, March 28, 2012

Houston, we have contact

In addition to pique over my colleague's pregnancy and some amount of sadness over my lack of one, we do have two exciting positive developments in casa Irrational: full on running has commenced. As has constant talking. Constant, effective talking, no less.

This morning, I was awakened by "up. Up. UP. UPUPUP. BABA. BABA." and when I stumbled in to B's room, baba in hand (yeah, don't ask about breaking up with the bottle), I was greeted with "Hi. Mommy."

Then later there was "book" "shoe" and "out" (that's "let's go outside for our walk already") and "cracker" about 100 times until someone got a bunny cracker.

I feel like the crazy "my child is talking even though no one can understand him" mom, but, really, I don't think I am making this up. Really. Even my husband agrees he is actually talking, and since he usually is the one who accuses me of making sh*t up, I am actually convinced that I am not just "that mom" and that we really do have communication.

What's awesome is that it makes it so much easier to avoid frustration and (newly-arrived and not very welcome, thank you very much) tantrums. Because when he gets frustrated or whiney, we either try to lead him with a word that might be what he wants, or tell him he can ask for things by saying "help please" instead of yelling or whining. And you know what? That works! (It comes out like "hep peas" and is beyond adorable.) It doesn't keep him from getting upset when I take something away that he wants (i.e., the plug to his humidifier, which is clearly more fascinating than his room full of toys) but I think it has already cut down the frustration by more than half.

And for me? Now it's like having a real person in the room. One that knows that he should say "eat" or "apple" when he's hungry and "cup" when he wants something to drink. And it's remarkable to see what he picks up every day. The pace of change is just astounding.

I think because the walking and the talking have both really kicked in at the same time, and because he is just so big (he wears size 2T already) I feel like we have a real toddler in our house. Of course, I am now totally nostalgic for the tiny baby with his little fists and snuffly noises, but this new phase is amazing to watch and it could not be more fun.

Thursday, March 22, 2012

Stuff that bugs me

OK, this post is definitely all about being bitter, infertile, old and kind of pissed off that my IVF cycle didn't work. But with that out of the way...

My pregnant 33 y.o. coworker is bugging the living sh*t out of me. And not because she is pregnant, but because she is being ridiculous. Here's how:
- She told her whole family and some of her friends that she was pregnant right after a positive pregnancy test
- She told people in the office at 11 weeks (OK, this one isn't so bad...)
- She is fully in maternity clothes at this point. (Seriously? My view is that you get bored with your limited stock of maternity wear and so should hold off before you go all in...)
- She has stopped regular exercise and is going to prenatal yoga.
- We took the subway to a meeting and she asked someone for a seat
- Her mom bought her a crib and they set it up in the room that she now refers to as the nursery.

Yeah, yeah -- I know that I should just mind my own business and shut up, but she's 14 weeks pregnant for chrissakes. The crib is what really put me over the edge. It's just ridiculous that they already put it together. Absurd.

OK. That's all. I'm sure there will be more, but for right now that's all the cattiness I can muster.

Thursday, March 8, 2012

Distraction of sorts

Monday morning I got the news that a months worth of shots and early-ass appointments were for naught.

Monday was also the year anniversary of my grandfather's death, and he and I were very very close.

Monday at 5pm our babysitter cancelled so I had to miss a dinner out (and was therefore home solo).

Monday at 550pm I get a text from our nanny that B's pooping has, well, increased markedly, and she is worried he is sick.

Monday at 7pm right before bedtime I get vomited on. Like something out of the movies, except that the vomiter is not a scary alien but a somewhat confused but still relatively cheerful 13 month old baby. Who knew a baby could hold so much stuff? After stripping us both down and taking a shower, baby goes to bed and I begin the process of cleaning up the wreckage.

Tuesday 8am back at work. Very very busy. B is totally fine, but on bland diet and no milk.

Wednesday 128am wake up nauseous. No, not pregnant. Oh shit, it's the stomach thing. Am up hourly until 5am. Really very unhappy. DH appears to sleep through it all.

Wednesday 630am B awake. Am shivering and covered in sweat and do not move for the remainder of the day.

Thursday 645am feel human. Get call from nanny that she has been felled by the disease. Email work again. Do my best to work from home, and B accommodates by taking 2 1.5 hour naps exactly when I have conference calls. Congratulate myself on being supermom. Then promptly let him smack his head on sandbox in playground. Rescind supermom award.

Thursday 7pm. Try eating some food. Poor idea. Stomach cramps for a couple of hours. Get period for good measure.

Friday 630am. Up and at 'em! Spend morning with B, who demands breakfast upon waking since he cannot have his baba (although he yells for it all the time) and then head to work.

Friday 9am. Try eating muffin. More stomach cramps. Perhaps more chamomile tea instead.

Friday 9.30am. Get "I am 3 months pregnant" email from coworker who was worried about how long it was taking in October. Feel like I have been punched in the chest.

Friday 10.40am Decide that this week has been a bit of a sh.itshow and wish it would end soon. No tears or hysterics on anyone's part (yet), but not an awesome week.

But starting BCPs tomorrow for another round.

Monday, March 5, 2012


I'm more unhappy about this than I thought I would be.

And just annoyed at how hard this is all the f**ing time.