Finding Your Voice

It took a complete stranger to lead me back here...to a place I love, my blog. I've never really had a direction for Cassandra's Corner. I'm not a fashion blog, mother's blog, or political blog. When I started this blog, I was fascinated with sharing my thoughts. My life has always been an open book, so why not share with anyone who is interested? But the more I blogged and began to follow other bloggers, I felt pressured to find a lane or niche.

Then yesterday happened. Yesterday, a person I was meeting for the first time said she loved my blog posts. I was taken off-guard. I hadn't blogged in so long I almost forgot I had one. She continued by saying which ones she particularly liked and why she enjoyed them. As I listened to her, I couldn't understand why I'd deserted blogging. Sure, life with two kids has been crazy and I think I have shared previously that I'm not balancing all that well. But if I am honest with myself, the true answer is I don't make time for it. You see I honestly felt I had nothing to say. I lost my voice. 

So, I logged in today and went to the two posts this stranger loved and I read them. I read them with open eyes and an open heart. I allowed the words to wash over me and was amazed at the story and honesty behind those words. In that moment, I realized I hadn't lost my voice. I silenced it. I fell victim to chasing the wrong the thing and abandoned what made me want to blog in the first place.  So, I don't care if I ever gain another follower and I don't care how many people read each post. I'm just here to share. Just know that my voice is unashamed, honest, vulnerable, and bold all at the same time.

Saying Goodbye to President Obama

On the eve of the inauguration of President-Elect Trump, I find myself watching interviews of the Obamas and feeling like the first time I watched the Friends series finale. I feel like an era has ended, one I knew could not last but never thought of the day when it would. He was the first time the candidate I voted for won the presidency; so, he has truly felt like my president and not just the president.

Since his speech at the DNC while still a senator, I have believed in and supported him. When I read Audacity of Hope, I knew I wanted him to be my president. I like many others felt that maybe he ran too soon in 2008 but God knew better. I watched election night on needles and felt my heart swell when it was announced he won. I watched his inauguration and was overcome with emotions I didn't know I had.

The past eight years have not been perfect but I still feel they have been great. My family and my career grew over the past eight years, and although not every moment has been ideal I have never lost hope. No matter the circumstance, rhetoric, and craziness occurring throughout our nation, the Obamas always seemed hopeful. I think this hope spread to many of us.

It has been a joy to watch both President Obama and First Lady Obama. Their warmth and love for people radiated in everything they did. I never felt so connected to a president or first lady as I did the two of them.

Now, I'm sure it's not secret I didn't vote for Trump. I actually loathe the man. I'm not fearful of him or his presidency, but I do fear the future. We, THE PEOPLE, empower a president. The problem lately is I don't trust us as a people. At some point we became mean. We stopped trying to unify and began looking out for self or preserving our self interests. It's sad to watch and as a minority frightening to think of the possibilities.

Hitler was able to do the atrocities he did because the country was in a hurtful, divided place. When he took over and demonized the Jews, the rest of the German population turned a blind eye because they were too wrapped up in self to care or realize what was happening. Many of them were frustrated with things in their country and easily bought into the propaganda that the Jews were to blame. Is Trump Hitler, no. Are we Germany circa 1930, no. But when I hear how we have demonized Muslims and immigrants in this country and the "fake news" that permeates our media, it's all too close for comfort.

So, to my Trump supporters and for those that feel I need to get on board you have to give me a moment. It was hard for me to accept that I would only see Friends through reruns and my DVDs, that there will never be a new "the one where..." episode. It will take me a while to embrace this new president, but I will because I love this country. But please believe I will not turn a blind eye to anything and he will have to earn the sentiment of my president. I didn't vote for him and I don't trust him or the parade of characters he has presented as a part of his administration. On January 20th he will become the president and I will wait, hope, and pray that he earns the title my president.

I May Have Been a Black Panther

I started this originally as a Facebook post but quickly realized I had a lot to say; so, now it's a blog post. Here goes....

I'm trying very hard not to boil over but I promise I'm simmering. With each new racial discussion that arises be it the #BlackLivesMatter or now the #Beyonce superbowl performance, I become more and more disheartened and discouraged. One thing I cannot tolerate, especially in this new found age of the internet where we have access to a wealth of information, is the perpetuation of ignorance and false information. Please stop looking at history through only one lens. Depending on your vantage point, things appear very differently. Remember,one man's terrorist is another man's savior.

So to be clear, I support and am grateful to the #BlackPantherParty and Malcom X just as much as I am to Martin Luther King, Jr., Ambassador Andrew Young, Congressman John Lewis and a host of others. If I endured the life of my grandmother, great grandmother, etc. and witnessed what they did I'm not certain whose footsteps I would've followed.

As I think about the myriad of injustices, the lynchings, the bombings and senseless cruelties and tragedies that spanned years I tremble and boil inside. As a mother of two now I think of how Rosa Parks must have felt while the KKK threw bombs into her home and burned crosses in her yard all while her children slept. My heart weeps and I ask myself if I would have been able to endure. I think I may have been a Black Panther and not the kind that actually existed but the ones America like to broad stroke paint. I think my fear for my husband and my kids would have driven me to pick up a gun and dare anyone to touch what I loved and cherished.

You see sometimes we get so caught up in being right and righteous that we forget we are human. I'm not righteous enough to say that I could watch men and women hang from a tree senselessly and watch families beg a justice system to help that refused to see them as equal. I'm not righteous enough to say that I could endure that peacefully. Why? Because my heart races and blood boils just reading about it.

Even today as I struggle with all the recent tragedies over the past years, I ask myself how do I fight this battle and how should I contribute to the narrative. No, I don't believe all cops are bad and no I don't believe all white people are either, but I also cannot ignore the systemic and historical issues that keep us divided. I can't ignore the chosen language used when it comes to my people either.

So, what do I want from White America? What I want from every one on earth...love, accountability, and respect. If I answer honestly I don't feel these things. If I answer honestly I feel like an abused and battered wife who you keep telling needs to move on because that beating is in the past and you still love me.

So when I say I may have been a Black Panther, understand that doesn't mean I want to be a terrorist, anti-American, or kill cops. It means I understand the hurt, the frustration, the fear, but most importantly the resolve to make a change for those who can't fight.

When Faith Meets Real Life

More and more I am having these moments I call when faith meets real life. We all have them. You trust and believe that God will supply all your needs. Then, your mortgage payment date is coming up but your bank account can't accommodate both what you owe to Bank of America and what you owe to the church. You trust and believe that what God has for you is for you and anything you ask in His name He will supply because He said He will give you the desires of your heart. But, you anxiously await word of whether you will get that new job or promotion. Each of these moments I feel are small in the scope of life, but they happen and some would have us believe our faith is weak or not as strong as they should be because of these moments.

Well, last night I had such a moment but this moment made me pause and question myself for a second. I'm walking down the hall of a very busy hotel. Several conventions are underway in the city and my hotel is serving as the host hotel for two major ones. One of the conventions happens to be for a national Pentecostal group. My family is Pentecostal so I am very familiar with this Christian denomination. I, of course, have my rolling laptop briefcase rolling behind me. All of a sudden I feel a jerk on my case. I quickly turn to see what's happening  when out the corner of my eye I see a woman falling. She lands roughly on her side and begins to proclaim, "It's broken. I definitely broke it".

I look down to the floor. She is twisting back and forth, the drink that was in her hand is now on the ground above her head and its contents splashed at her side. It takes me more time than it should to realize that jerk I felt was somehow connected to her fall. Partly because my mind was simultaneously trying to understand how she fell and if she were o.k. People swiftly surround us and begin assisting with pulling the woman up from the floor. Again, it took me too long to realize and state that they should not move her. Through my fog I hear my voice saying "don't move her" then a chorus of others begin to shout the same. Again, I'm in a fog and I don't know why.

Men begin lifting the table away from the scene so the fallen woman can at least lay her head down. The next thing I hear is "somebody pray". One of the young women that rushed to the scene and was holding the fallen woman immediately began praying. As I watched I questioned, "What a funny thing to request. Wouldn't you want somebody to call a doctor? This lady's leg is possibly broken. She has already fallen and injured herself so wouldn't you think call the doctor then pray?" I am literally having this moment in my head when I hear someone say "call a doctor, notify the hotel".

Something to note. I am actually not doing anything to assist the situation. I am literally just standing there having these moments in my head. Failure and Shame.

Well the other major convention at the hotel happens to be the one I'm attending, the National Medical Association Annual Meeting; so, doctors were nearby. The doctor to just happen to be passing the scene is one of the doctors I work with and know. He immediately begins assisting  and as if his presence is some type of fog remover I pull out of my haze and grab his bag so he can begin assisting the woman. All the while, people were gathering and praying. Once the EMT arrived the crowd began to disperse, giving the medic the space he needed to assist the fallen woman.

As I begin down the hall again, rolling case in tow, I realized I had yet another when faith meets real life moment. Now I'm sure all my Pentecostal family and fellow Christians are saying, yes, and you failed as a Christian. Now, of course I believe God is a healer and the first you should call. But obviously there is a disconnect with what I believe and how I react. So to add as many bible sayings as possible I will next say that yes, I understand faith without works is dead.But my fundamental, and I believe every one's fundamental struggle in their relationship with God is how to implement that faith in every day practice, in reality. In this moment surely I felt it was appropriate for them to pray but I also felt it was silly to do so before securing medical attention for the fallen woman. And yes I realize I'm the worst critic ever because I did neither, pray or call a doctor but I'm trying to share how imperfect we are as a people. This people is why I am grateful for grace, mercy, forgiveness, and the ability to learn. So what did I learn from this situation. To Act. I honestly feel God would have been o.k. with me calling the doctor then going into an intense prayer. I don't think he is o.k. with doing nothing.

Giving Up on Work-Life Balance and Blending

Lean in, lean out, work-life balance, work-life blending--all words I want to burn in a blazing bonfire surrounded by every parent that has struggled internally with pursuing their own career dreams while fulfilling the precious role of a parent.

It's funny. You spend your entire life planning for what you want to be when you grow up. We have all answered the question and depending on our age our answers have ranged from superhero to firefighter to doctor or social worker. Then at some stage in life, around age 30, we are expected to define that even more and we add titles like director, CFO, manager, or principal. But here is the funny part. Nowhere are we ever expected to address what kind of parent we want to be. What kind of home life do we want to lead.

We make these plans. These five year goals and then after we find the love of our lives, get married, add a dog, and then decide we want to grow our family all of a sudden we have to make the children fit into the plan. It's no wonder why this work-life balance thing is a challenge. It's almost designed that our children and family are an after thought or a "how can I make this work in my plans".

If I sound bitter, I may just be bitter. I want my career. I really do. Just not at the expense of my family and children and if I'm honest this balance or blending thing gets harder to juggle everyday. I find myself selfishly keeping my children up late so I can make up the time with them I spent leaving work late and in traffic. If I didn't do this, it would literally be dinner then bed. I would have NO time with them. Then after we put the kids to bed, I have the 15-20 minutes (depending on how long it takes for me to pass out) to actually talk to my husband.

I've asked other women and I've gone to all the female leadership conferences on "having it all" and "work-life blending" my stomach can take. What have I learned? That this balance/blending thing is a myth told to little girls to give them hope. The truth is there are 24 hours in a day. Sorry, only 24. For every second you give to one thing, that's a second you no longer have for something else.

I'm told that some days you will give more to your career and others your family. Honestly, I would like to see those days because they don't exist Monday through Friday. If I hated my job I guess this would all be easy. But, I don't. I actually like what I do and the people I do it with. That doesn't sound right I know, but I'm up late typing this because I blended my work and life poorly today.

One thing has become clear to me and that is sacrifices and compromises have to be made. Again, only 24 hours. So, the question I'm asking myself is do I want to be that mom at the soccer game on my Galaxy Note, tablet, or whatever typing away at emails. Do I want to have to run home from work, catch the recital, only to jump back on my laptop at night to make up for the time I spent supporting my child?

Oh and before you begin to comment and tell me all the marvelous things I can do from home, the consultant work I can undertake, or the business ventures I can start, I am not entrepreneurial. Never got that spirit. I HATE cold calling or attempting to sell people anything in any fashion even if i believe in it I like I do Jesus.

I honestly believe I shouldn't have to make those type of adjustments or leave and go to a company like Google, this magical place where people go to work but it feels like play. I mean Google can't hire everybody. Instead we have to move to some work models that resemble the days of pharaoh a little less and the days of....well, I'm not sure...Google more.

If you read this rant, please accept my sincerest apologies. It morphed from a blog post to a vent fest.

Parenting: Hoping You Get It Right

As an adult looking back on my own childhood and rearing it becomes easy to question all the events in my life and ask "what if". What if my mom and dad had stayed together and I grew up with both of them in the home? What if my mom didn't work so much? What if my dad had less children?


Then you automatically take all your perceived negatives from your life and use them to create the list of things you will never do as a parent and things you will fight heaven and hell to make sure doesn't translate into the lives of your children.

I am the product of teen parents. When I say teen, I mean teen. My parents were 15 when I was born. I'm a first generation college graduate and one of few in my family to have no children before age 20 and even fewer to have no children out of wedlock. Wedlock...do we even still use this word? To that end there are many pitfalls and environmental situations I am trying to avoid in my own life and definitely those of my children.

But it's a parenting nightmare to try to come up with a solution or anecdote so that your child doesn't fall victim to teen pregnancy, high school dropout, addiction or the myriad of other things we fear as parents.

Like anything in life you should never make decisions based on fear. I fast learned that the better route to take is to envision the life you want or the desired outcome then put the resources and people around you to make it happen. If only parenting were so easy such that we could follow a formula:

loving home + extracurricular activities + (x)income + christian values= well rounded, adjusted, model citizens 

We know this not to be the case because too often you have siblings with the same parents raised in the same environment but the sum of the formula is not the same. This is hard for us because we were taught if a=b and b=c then a=c. But in the parenting world somehow a=d and we don't even know where "d" came from.  

Does this mean as parents we throw everything to the wind and say "they're going to turn out how they're going to turn out". Of course not. That's why parenting is the most frustrating job EVER. Because there is no such thing as doing everything right. Right for whom? (Did I use that correctly. I've never understood who vs whom) What may be right for one parent and one situation is not necessarily right for another parent and situation.

So I can't leave this post hopeless because I don't feel hopeless. I'm full of hope actually. I look at my son and marvel at his stubborn spirit (he got that from me), his bold ideas, and his cautious nature (he got that from his father). With all those combined in one person I know we have a journey ahead with him. I know he will be stubborn and do things I told him not to and warned him would end badly. I know he will try outrageous things that will make me scream "What were you thinking son?!!" But I'm ready to be there for him and with him through it all. Because "getting it right" to me is being there. It's one of the few things we can control as parents.

Lessons Left to Learn

So in the past I've tried this New Year's Resolution thing....all unsuccessfully may I add. So what do slackers like me do in times like these where I know I will not commit but I don't want to be a failure again? I just don't make any and say something lame like I don't believe in New Year Resolutions.

Well, after my slacker commitment to no resolutions for 2015 I started reading one of my new books by Paulo Coelho given to me by the Husband for Christmas. It's an old one by the author that I haven't read yet (background for you...I love Paulo Coelho and I read everything I can by him).

So Warrior of Light is one of my current reads for the moment and one of the short notes reads as follows:

A Warrior of the Light knows that certain moments repeat themselves.

He often finds himself faced by the same problems and situations, and seeing these difficult situations return, he grows depressed, thinking that he is incapable of making any progress in life.

"I've been through all this before," he says to his heart.

"Yes, you have been through all this before," replies his heart. "But you have never beyond it."

Then the Warrior realizes that these repeated experiences have but one aim: to teach him what he does not want to learn.

This spoke volumes to me and where I currently am in my life spiritually, which of course impacts where I am every where else in my life. I know the lessons I don't want to learn but I think the child in my doesn't want to accept them yet. I don't know...I guess the part that wants to remain a Toys r Us kid.

I've fought these lessons because they will require a part of me to die or go away and force me to walk in a new destiny. I'm not quite sure, even as I type this, I'm ready for that path. But I am certain of one thing. I'm tired of repeating the same problems and situations!

So...this is the moment I grow up. Stay tuned. I'm sure the journey ahead will have me sharing a lot of my growing pains and laughter.

P.S. I won't leave without giving you a little flavor of 2014 and the real reason you all read my posts...my adorable cubs.

 

 

 

Breastfeeding The Second Time Around

Before I ever became pregnant I committed in heart that I would breastfeed. Well I had my first child, my delightful and very handsome baby boy and breastfeeding went nothing like I imagined and was far from the fairy tale painted in all the magazines in my OB's office. For the full journey refer to my post Breastfeeding and Humble Pie.

I felt completely defeated and like the ultimate failure that I couldn't grasp something that I thought should come natural to me. I mean literally natural to me. This only fueled my determination to breastfeed with cub # 2. And breastfeed we did. Some things I had to do based on my lessons learned from cub #1 and my journey so far with cub # 2:

• If at all possible don't supplement with formula and don't introduce the bottle too early.

With my son part of my trouble started when the doctor asked us to supplement with formula since my son dropped 10% of his birth weight while still in the hospital. Well I determined this go round that 6.5 lbs was still a good birth weight so I refused. Baby girl got back on track very quickly and we were off to a better start with breastfeeding. Here is the tricky part. I waited 6 weeks before introducing a bottle because I was too scared to mess up the good thing we had going. I was due to return to work at 8 weeks. I had so much trouble getting her to take a bottle. I will share that journey in another post.

• Don't use the breast shields.

Flat nipples or no-she will learn to latch onto what you got and will get what she needs. I had several breast shields with my first child because I was told our latching issues were due to the fact that my nipples aren't as pronounced as others (sorry to my male friend readers but if my journey can help other women I have to share). Those things only further complicated things. Didn't use them with the second child and we eventually got the hang of latching.

• Latching is a journey that I don't think you EVER master.

At least for me. Yeah nursing now at 6 months is pain free but I think this is because my nipples toughened up and not because baby girl actually learned how to properly latch. She does whatever she wants to my poor body. Which brings me to the next lesson...

• Babies don't care about you when it comes to the milk.

Bleeding, cracked, sore, raw, tender, peeling, scabbed over, and just downright mutilated they will wrap their chubby mouths around it and go for what they know. The soreness never goes away so buy stock in that lanolin stuff and keep some handy. Oh and at six months they learn the art of gnawing, biting, tugging, and digging their grabby little hands into your flesh. Yeah yeah remove them off the breast and say no. If your's is like mine they will find it funny and actually smile/laugh at you, latch back on, and do it again. Good luck!

• Producing milk is a science only understood by no one.

My milk production is all over the place. This I'm sure has a lot to do with the fact that currently my work environment challenges my ability to pump during the day when away from baby. Not that my boss and leaders aren't supportive of me pumping at works but more so because it is too difficult to fit in three pumping sessions when I have meetings scheduled all day and when I'm not in meetings I have other things I need to get done. It's difficulty to pull away to a lactation room, hook up my gear, pump for 15 minutes, clean all my gear, then return to my desk. I literally exhaust 30 minutes doing this. So most days I get in one pump. Well that royally messes up my production. I've tried it all; pumping an extra 8 minutes after she nurses, providing her bottles only when I am at work and allowing her to nurse for all the other feedings, drinking fenugreek and plenty of water, and setting aside quite time for baby and I to bond while nursing. Results....my milk production is low and I am not producing enough for baby.  It's a challenge that only leads to me stressing which I believe only makes all of it more difficult. My recent decision....pump when I can and nurse in the morning and at night. Any feedings I don't have breast milk for will be handled with formula and now solid foods as we are now introducing baby girl to solids. Oddly enough since I made this decision my production has increased by 2 ounces in only one week. We'll see what happens...

So I wrote a bunch to say this....each breastfeeding journey will be different because hey each baby is different. I'm glad that this go round I was actually able to breastfeed and dare I say it....I enjoy my little quiet moments with my bambino (except when she is gnawing and biting). I made it six months and I haven't quit the job; I've gone part-time. The biggest advise I can give on breastfeeding is do what works for you and baby.

A letter to my son

So I am definitely that mom taking tons of pictures of my little ones, saving them to Shutterfly and Snapfish, creating all types of memory books and scrapbooks. I am quite proud of the fact that my two year old son's baby book is up to date and full of loving memories of his life thus far. The other day I finally sat down in a rare moment of silence and managed to write my letter to him. My original desire was to have the letter penned before he was born but I could never settle on the words to say. After finally completing the short but what I feel to be the perfect letter, I decided the words were applicable to every one I love. So...I have decided to share it here. May you as the reader find yourself in these words.




My Dearest Antonio,

As your parents there is so much we want to say to you and so much we want for you. First and foremost we want you to know and feel that you are loved. We want a home for you filled with joy and laughter. We will endeavor to be good role models. In life there will be many things that will challenge or sadden you. It is our hope that you will be strong enough and confident enough to overcome them all. I can't promise that we will never fail you. I can't promise that you will love or agree with everything we do. What we do promise is to love you always and to give the best of who we are and what we have.

In life the bravest thing you can ever do is try. So try son. Try new things. Try to be good. Try to be loving and understanding. Do these things boldly. Trust in God and in who you are.

We love you son!

Playground Philosophy

We had an amazing weather weekend here in Atlanta and my family took full advantage. Being only five weeks postpartum I'd begun to go a little crazy from the lack of outside activity in my life. The past few weeks the only times I've left the house were to go to the doctor or to go grocery shopping. It always baffles me when I'm attacked by strangers for leaving the house and bringing my newborn out as well. Apparently, people still believe a newborn should not be brought outside until it's at least six weeks old, preferably eight weeks, despite the fact that the doctors all say it's perfectly fine for mommy and baby to get out and about. Well, with 60+ degree weather out and about is exactly what we did.

Both Saturday and Sunday we took the kiddies to the playground. To say our toddler had a ball would be an understatement. I of course still have to take it easy due to my c-section so I mainly just watched as my husband ran around the playground with our son. As I watched my son certain things began to stick out to me. Along this journey of being a parent I've learned that some of the most simplistic things we introduce to our children end up playing a key role in their development or understanding of life. For example the rattle. I always thought it was just a toy you use to entertain a baby. Apparently, that small unassuming object assists baby enhance her motor skills and  sight. As I watched the toddler I realized there are several life skills and lessons being developed on the playground.

Physical Activity

The obvious of course is physical activity. Despite the fact that I am supposed to be taking it easy I did sneak onto the playground this weekend. Let's just say I can't do half the things those kids are doing on the playground and it's not because I'm too big. I called myself climbing this spider ladder thing and my muscles are still sore. It's the best leg workout I've had in years.

Critical Thinking and Problem Solving
A lot of the play sets on the playground require kiddies to think through the best options/routes to take in order to achieve the goal. I watched my toddler as he analyzed his options and was quite proud of his problem solving skills.

Conquer Fear and Try Something New/Challenging

By far the best part was to watch him overcome his fears or to tackle something challenging. There were a couple of play sets that initially he wouldn't approach or attempt playing on because he was either afraid or it was too difficult for him to reach the top. After a while of playing I saw his confidence grow and he became very bold in his play often doing things mommy preferred he didn't.

Social Skills: Learning to Interact with Others

Up until five weeks ago my son was an only child. Additionally he just started daycare two months ago. This makes for a kid that doesn't quite play well with others because he doesn't quite understand give and take or the art of sharing. It may be genetic but he is a born socialite. He waves and says hello to all the kids big and small. He will just walk up to a group of kids and try to join in the play. Side not parents: teach your children it's impolite to tell another child you can't play with us. My son was told that this weekend and it broke my heart. Not true. It angered me and I wanted to go tell those kids a piece of my mind. Back to my observations. I watched as he appropriately waited his turn or exerted his dominance. The dominance thing is important because sometimes you have to stand up for yourself and not let the other kids run over you...literally in this case. Because he is small it is all too easy for the other kids to try to take his turn or push him to the side. What he doesn't do well yet is share his toys. In this case he exerts too much dominance as his idea of sharing his toys is him kicking the ball then commanding the other child to go fetch it and return it to him. Not sure if he is a natural born supervisor or dictator.

While the toddler was doing all this the new baby was doing this...

Good day for all I say.

 

*Disclaimer: These are the thoughts, observations, and ramblings of a mother and are not intended to be presented as scientific fact. ;)

Feeling guilty about not having mommy guilt

So, I know the title seems a bit weird and confusing. Well the gist of things is this; I miss work. I'm five weeks into my maternity leave and I miss my job. Now I read a lot of different mommy blogs and I have quite a few mommy friends on Facebook. All too often I see and read the posts about the war between stay at home moms and working moms. All too often I see this word guilt threaded throughout the discussions and debates. There is so much dialogue surrounding the guilt working mothers feel about the time they spend away from their darling children. Stay at home moms often discuss the desire to have something for themselves outside the home and the guilt they feel surrounding that desire. I have yet to see any dialogue for the third perspective in this little drama and that is of the woman that feels no guilt. Let me explain.

I love being a mom. I wouldn't trade my new role for anything in the world. I wear my mommy hat proudly. I envision myself to be a mixture of Claire Huxtable and Roseanne Arnold. Claire was always so polished and captivating. She had the career and the I can't believe you have children body. I loved her disciplining style because she never raised her voice or exhibited frustration. Roseanne's house was always a mess. She always had some crafty and unconventional way of disciplining the children that made for a good laugh. Well, I'm not always polished but I endeavour to be. I think I'm captivating  and so far I'm doing well with the whole frustration and raising of the voice thing. My house is always a mess; I take pride in this mess. The kiddies are two and under so I have some time to develop my crafty disciplining skills. I say all this to say that I take my mommy role seriously and, although I don't love every minute of it, I couldn't imagine my life any other way. But being a mommy isn't enough for me and I don't have guilt over this.

I used to think I wanted to be a stay at home mom until I had my first child. The entire time I was on maternity leave I missed work. Upon returning to work I didn't experience that gaping hole every one warned me of in which I would miss my child all day and hate the fact that I was back at work. The opposite happened. I quickly jumped back into the swing of things and found myself delving more into my work. I leave every morning glad to go to work and I don't feel guilty about it. Work fulfills something in me that I don't quite understand yet but I know that fulfillment allows me to be an even better mom. I have an extra joy because of it and I shower that joy on my family.

It took other moms probing and judging to make me question if something was wrong with me. Why don't I have that guilt that I read about of other working mothers? Then I began to question every decision and action I made since I learned I would be a mom. Why didn't I get that hysterical crying fit that pregnant women speak of? Why didn't I cry the first time I held my son and where was the overwhelming rush of love that was supposed to sweep over me? Why was I able to go on a date night with the husband six weeks after my son's birth and not have separation anxiety? Many would say I'm broken. They'd question my sanity and call me a cold and emotionless monster. Something has to be wrong because no mother should feel this way.

Much like a teenager learning to be confident in her own skin I had to learn to be secure in who I am as a mother. I had to learn that the only rule, or ingredient shall I say, to being a good mother is to love my children as Christ loved me. I also began to remember something from my marriage counseling. The priest explained to us the importance of keeping each other happy and how through our happiness our children would be happy. Of course he was speaking about the marriage but I realised this applies to the individual as well. In order for me to give joy I must possess joy. You can't give what you don't have. I understand that at this point in my life working builds me up and makes me happy. Knowing this, I walk boldly and proudly as a mom and I rest peacefully at night. No guilt at all.

Adjusting to Life with Two Children

So I did all the research I could to prepare for life with two children, a two year old and a new born. We had some major stages to address in this preparation such as potty training the toddler, transitioning the toddler from the crib to the big boy bed, and enrolling the toddler in daycare. We spoke to parents of multiples to get some on the job in the trenches advice. The most repeated advice wasn't really advice but a warning-"it's going to be hell in the beginning". Well, to everyone that said that, thank you. It has truly been hell. I am once again in awe of single parent homes and people that live away from family that can help. I feel like I have help the equivalent of celebrities and yet these past four weeks have not been a walk in the park.

First thing is breastfeeding. I unfortunately did not have the best of luck with breastfeeding my first child. You may recall an earlier blog post of mine titled Breastfeeding and Humble Pie. Well I was determined this time around. I pushed aside my arrogance and did the reading. I also harassed my lactation specialist and hooray we are successfully breastfeeding. Rewind- hooray drat we are successfully breastfeeding. Cub #2 will not take a pacifier. I am her only acceptable form for feeding and pacifying. That being said, I am exhausted. With Cub #1 the husband and the mother-in-law helped with feedings so I was able to rest and find time for myself. I've read all the suggestions to alleviate the burden, and yes I am using the word burden, of breastfeeding. Having my spouse burp the baby is not my idea of helping or alleviating the burden. I still have to wake up and nurse for 30 minutes. Five additional minutes spent burping is nothing at that point.

Moving on to sibling jealousy. We were warned that Cub #1 may begin to show signs of jealousy and act out or be mean to the baby. So far so good. He adores his little sister. He kisses on her all the time and makes it his duty to let me know when I need to go pick up the baby and care for her. Problem-my two year old is very ROUGH and has no idea of space and how he fits in it. That being said, I may need to buy my daughter a helmet. If anyone knows where to get an infant helmet please drop me a line. Also, Cub #1 wants to share everything with the baby. Basically, he doesn't understand why he can't play with the baby's things or have what she has.  He doesn't get upset when we take things or explain to him he can't play with it and we try to only restrict him from major things like the breast pump.This way we don't incite any jealousy. It's actually been quite nice watching him grow into a being a big brother and I am predicting that he will be the most protective of her.

What has been most difficult about life with two children has been keeping the normal routine going for child 1 while starting a routine with child 2. We haven't mastered this yet and I eagerly await the day we get a good flow going. The toddler is a bit of a challenge, not because of the sibling but because he is in full toddler mode. Everything is no followed by screams and high pitched shrills. He moves through the house at the speed of sonic the hedgehog with a devastation level to match. His dietary preference consists of ice cream, cookies, and Hershey kisses. Correcting the behaviour of a toddler is like teaching a dog to speak, speak not bark. I don't have anything insightful to add on this subject just yet so pray for me please.Oh and if any of you out there with multiples have any great advice on setting a routine or alleviating the breastfeeding burden shoot me a line. I go back to work in less than 4 weeks and I cannot imagine that life mixed with the current one.

Electing to Have a Second C-Section

To have the c-section  or not to have the c-section that is the question. I 'm not a hundred percent sure as to why I was so adamant about attempting to do what they call a VBAC (vaginal birth after cesarean). I unfortunately had to have an emergency c-section with my son. Most people naturally then elect to have a c-section with the second child. I on the other hand did not. My recovery from the first went very well so that was not the reason. I'm not that woman that needs to experience labor in order to feel like a woman so that was not the reason. In my mind a c-section was still surgery and carried with it all the risks of surgery. This was unsettling to me. Additionally, I still believed that the recovery from a vaginal delivery was better than that of a c-section. I was determined to attempt the VBAC.

Well at week 37 of my pregnancy the doctors were estimating that my child weighed 7 lbs 15 oz. I still had minimally 2 weeks left in my pregnancy, meaning my baby still had some growing to do. My OB felt that the baby would potentially be too big for me to attempt a VBAC with the largest concern being the possibility of my incision from the c-section rupturing. I was of course slightly disappointed but I trust my OB's judgement. The c-section was scheduled.

It's very different having a baby when you already know it's arrival date and time. There is no fanfare or nervous excitement. You literally arrive at the hospital and are escorted to your room. They begin prepping you, then at the designated time they waltz you down the hall to the operating room. This being my second c-section I was prepared for the extremely sterile and cold room. I was prepared to be strapped down to a table like Jesus on the cross. I was prepared for the blue curtain that would separate me from my baby and serve as a source of anxiety for the next several minutes. I was prepared to lose my ability to breathe the moment they began to pull the baby through the small incision. I was prepared to pass out moments after meeting my child because undoubtedly the anesthesiologist overdid it with the pain killers.

What you can never prepare for is how you will feel the moment you are first introduced to your little one. You can never prepare for that first moment you hold her in your arms or the first time you nurse her. All the steps were the same. Even the hospital was the same and yet once my daughter was here nothing was the same.

So to have the c-section or not really isn't the question. The question is how do I deliver my precious baby into the world in the safest and most peaceful way possible, because getting her here is all that truly matters.

Transitioning from At Home Care to A Daycare

It's been quite a journey transitioning the cub from being cared for by his Abuela (my mother-in-law) at home to being cared for at a daycare facility. With cub #2 on the scene we wanted to start our son in daycare before the baby was born so he wouldn't associate the change with the baby. The weeks leading up to his first day at "school" we did our best to explain it to him and get him excited about being a big boy and going to school like "Sid the Science Kid". My son loves "Sid the Science Kid" so we thought this would be a good character for him to relate to.

On his first day I was still pregnant and prohibited by Dr. Husband from driving, so we took him together. We had breakfast, took a picture to capture the moment, then headed to daycare. Of course on the first day we had some minor things to finalize so the cub played around the lobby and introduced himself to children as they walked by. This was looking promising. We took him to what would be his classroom and he immediately identified a toy he wanted to play with. Not wanting to draw things out we both said goodbye shortly after entering the room. The cub, kind of confused, said goodbye back and we left the room. We stood outside the room out of sight waiting to see if we would hear him cry. Silence--so we left. Later that day we were told he cried the entire day. This was a little painful to hear but we also expected it.

Antonio on his first day of school

 

 

Fast forward....
Over the next two weeks we experienced the following:
1. The cub had two colds and spent days out of daycare after having caught his cold at daycare. We went from having a child that was rarely sick (perhaps twice in his life so far) to a child always sick. We are constantly battling congestion, fevers, and runny noses.

2. The cub wakes up every morning and says "no school". The minute we would get him in the car he would become withdrawn and depressed.He wouldn't play at school and according to the teachers all he did was cry all day.

3. The cub became very needy and became a baby all over again. The temper tantrums and incessant crying increased. The dramatic meltdowns for attention increased.

4. The staff were not as polite and amazing as they were the day I toured and the few days I returned to the center to enroll the cub. In response to the incessant crying,  A lot of judgement was passed as to how we were parenting our child. A few of the staff members made comments to my husband and mother-in-law as to how our parenting style was affecting the cub's ability to adjust to daycare. First they told us that after two weeks most kids stop crying. I polled friends and learned that their children cried well past two weeks. I was additionally frustrated by this because prior to enrolling my cub I explained to them that my son had never been cared for by a stranger....NEVER!.  One lady decided to vent her frustration with having to deal with my crying son. Now I tend to be more confrontational than my husband and mother-in-law and I had sworn to have a meeting with the director and individuals in question if another comment was made. Well God intervened because miraculously things began to change.

Now...
1. The cub does very well at daycare and the staff are falling in love with him. He still says no school every morning but at least he is having fun now.

2. The cub's vocabulary is taking off at the speed of lightening and think this is partially due to daycare.

3. He is beginning to play with other children and even shares a little.

If your little one has never been cared for by a stranger and you are considering transitioning him to a daycare center make sure you have a talk with the director and his teachers to hash out a game plan. Pick their brains for suggestions to help with adjusting and be sure to voice your suggestions. We asked that the center allow us to bring his security blanket everyday. They agreed and it made the world of a difference. Now we are beginning to wean him off the blanket. He takes it in the car everyday but he doesn't take it into the center.

Starting Your Toddler in Daycare

I shared earlier that we are expecting our second cub, now slated to arrive any minute as today marks week 37 for us. The journey has been interesting to say the least but of course our focus has been on preparing our current cub for the transition and all the "joys" that are expected. The first joy  being daycare/childcare.

We have been very fortunate to have my mother care for our little cub while we both work. Additionally, ALL my family still resides in the metro area so I have a wealth of babysitters from which to choose. Coincidentally, my now two year old son has never been cared for by a stranger. I am sure you can imagine my anxiety surrounding the whole daycare thing and placing my cub's well-being in the hands of a stranger.
Having heard that this daycare search can be a bit of a hassle and that there are waiting lists and all other kinds of nonsense, we began the hunt for a place early this past summer. I did all the internet research and took days from work to go scout out these places. Beyond ensuring my child’s safety and providing general care I wasn’t sure as to what I really wanted in childcare. As a matter of fact, even after my internet research I wasn’t aware of half the stuff possible. With all that being said I was not properly prepared for what would happen during the daycare hunt. Here it is in a nutshell...

Start with your budget
I thought this was logical. No sense in looking at a daycare/childcare/learning center/academy that I can't afford. Well problem...No one advertises their cost/expenses. Each facility wants you to come in for a tour/consultation then discuss "tuition". By the way why is it called tuition? Moving right along. I am convinced they do this so you will come in, fall in love with the facility and staff, and enroll your child regardless of your budget. I can't lie; this almost happened to me. After visiting three locations, none of which did I know all the costs before meeting the staff and touring the facility, I felt so defeated by my options versus my budget that I almost selected the facility that was $6,480 over my budget. Seriously!!!

So maybe you should…

Start with what you want to achieve
This may be a little more logical. That way you have an idea of what items you are willing to go without and what items are must haves. When I rated the three places I visited, Daycare A was like Heaven. It was everything you wanted in a daycare for your child plus things you never knew you wanted. This was also the one $6, 480 over my budget. The next one I visited, Daycare B, felt like something on Elm Street...a complete nightmare. This was the one in my budget. They met the bare requirement; someone will watch my child and keep him alive Monday through Friday. I of course visited these two places one behind the other and felt utterly defeated. I am that type of parent that wants to give my child the moon but I couldn't afford the moon and what I could afford was a nightmare. Well on to Daycare C. This place is completely middle of the road. They definitely offered more than Daycare B but would not be ensuring my cub's slot into Princeton like Daycare A. They were a little more than what I budgeted, approximately $800, but I'm willing to forgo some hair, nail, and me day shopping to make this happen.

Some things I wasn't prepared for during the hunt

1. They have curriculums they follow for two year olds. Daycare A came with textbooks and homework. The cub is two!!!! I almost fainted once the curriculum director, don't even get me started on the fact that there is even a curriculum director, began explaining which methods they utilize at the academy. Daycare C has a curriculum they follow but no textbooks or homework.

2. They will evaluate and progress your child to ensure they are always in the proper classroom. I mean I was in the advanced classes and stuff in grade school but evaluate my child on what? Who can actually say Elmo? They are two. I just got excited the other day because my cub finally picked his own nose. I guess he won't be in the advanced toddler class huh?

3. They have rooms where you can come to the center and watch the classroom the entire day or, if you are Daycare A, log into a computer from work/home and watch the classroom. I'm told this assists in resolving conflicts or validating stories. It's also about trust. I don't know. If I need to do all this I would rather not have my child in daycare.

4. They expel children from daycare. I have no opinion on this I just wasn't aware.

So today was the first day of daycare for our cub. I will share that adventure in my next post. Stay tuned.....

Boo to Child Free Zones

So I am going through my normal routine of getting ready for work this morning when my ears are bombarded by what I can only describe as logical ignorance. Have you heard of these so called "child free zone" seats airlines are doing? Apparently for a little extra money you can purchase seats in a special zone guaranteed to be free of children and all the "headache" that comes along with flying next to one. You know the headaches:

1.                  Tantrums

2.                  Kicking of the seats

3.                  Incessant crying

4.                  Parent and/or child constantly getting up or switching seats

5.                  Food/Drink spills

I get the headaches and why people want to avoid them. As the parent of the child I want to avoid them too. I mean if you think your headache is big after dealing with any of the above imagine mine. I called this whole idea or new offering logical ignorance because as someone who has flown on a plane and as someone who has had to endure the incessant crying or tantrums I don't know anywhere on the plane you can go and avoid that. Now I believe the biggest plane I have been on was the Boeing 767-the one where each of the side aisles seat two to a row with the middle seating three to a row. I felt it to be a fairly nice size plane. Even on that plane I could hear the crying and there wasn't a child near me for rows. Children have mastered the shrill and ain’t no escaping it.

Now this is what really threw me for a loop and sent me off the deep end: the wider seats and extended leg room. I forgot to mention that earlier but apparently this zone comes with slightly wider seats and extended leg room. If anyone should need wider seats and extra leg room it would be the passengers flying with small children. I’ve flown with my toddler and I would've paid a little extra money to have both of those. It would have made for a more comfortable flight which in turn could have made for a more enjoyable toddler. Instead we were both cramped into what is already space designated for slugs. Oh and for those that do not have children do you know how much extra stuff you have to lug around with you to appease your toddler. I had so much stuff crammed under the seat in front of me I thought the person sitting there was going to lose it. Who cares if my son isn't kicking your seat when you have the mother digging under your rear end all flight to retrieve diaper bags, blankets, snacks, and movie videos.

So airlines I say to you that what would have been smart and the most logical route was to create parent safe zones. Maybe the seats could be colorful and decorated like a pediatrician's office. Maybe you give out kid friendly snacks in those zones and have special kid appropriate movies. Maybe that zone comes with blocks or little toys to entertain the kiddies instead of a pillow and blanket. I don't know because I can't speak for all parents. So why don't you survey some parents and hold some focus groups to see how you can make our flights more comfortable which in turn would make EVERYONE's flight more enjoyable. I don't know it just seems to me you are solving the wrong end of the problem.

Falling out of Love with Curious George

Don't we all just love this guy

One of PBS Kids' headliners and most loved characters is Curious George. Even those of us without kids know that banana yellow hat and that big smile that belongs to the curious adventurous little monkey lovingly called George. When my son first began to gravitate to this little guy I thought "This show is harmless, why not". We even have a Curious George story collection book that we read from at bedtime. The little cub is quite taken by him and I am sure we will have a Curious George themed birthday party this year.

Problem....I am falling out of love with Curious George. The more I watch this show with my son the more I am certain that little monkey is responsible for the mischief of my not yet two year old son as well as his affinity for making monkey like noises in response to my questions. I'm putting Curious George before the court of public opinion.

Charge # 1: Teaching Children that Mischief Leads to Rewards

I'm not sure how much of this show you have watched but in each episode George does something mischievous that he absolutely should not do. Somehow this mischief always results in something positive and the show ends with George being the hero. In real life disobedience or mischief rarely leads to something positive. Not a good real life example.

Charge# 2: Delays Children Speech

George does not use real words. Of course he doesn't; he is a monkey. Instead George makes a sound that is similar to Uh huh and Ahhh. Well now anytime I ask my son if he wants something or if he likes something he makes the EXACT same sound as Curious George. Problem here...my son used to say yes and actually use his words.

Charge# 3: Bad Example of Parenting

George is not the only one setting a bad example. That Man in the Yellow Hat leaves George alone frequently. Now I am not sure how old George is supposed to be and I do realize that he is a pet monkey so like all pets he can be left alone. My issue is they liken this monkey to a child in every other sense and he appears to be close to preschool age and unless I'm missing something preschoolers should not be left alone. Also, someone needs to child/monkey proof that house. Half the reason George can get into everything is because EVERYTHING is accessible.

What say you parents? Is Curious George a harmless, delightful, educational program for our little ones or...is he a mischief teaching, speech delaying, poor example of parenting program that well...who I am kidding. The cub loves this show. Did you catch that we are having a Curious George themed birthday party this month. Watch out for the pictures and stay curious.

 

Cub Free Weekend

I believe that somewhere along this blogging journey I have shared that I have an amazing support system. If I have not then let me say it here and now; I have an AMAZING support system. My cub is almost two years old and has never been cared for by a stranger or sitting service. Why? Because anytime the husband and I have needed some grown up time, his myriad of aunts and his loving grandparents have stepped in and cared for our wonderful boy in our absence. This is definitely something that I don't take for granted as I am well aware of the poor couples out there that rarely have a date night or a moment to exhale.

Well last week was hectic to say the least and by the middle of the week I felt overwhelmed. God immediately came through for me in the form of my awesome mother. She called me, on her own I need to stress, and said "I want Tony to come to my house and stay over this weekend". What did she just say? You don't need permission to do that. Just tell me how long to pack for. OK don't judge me. I am a four months pregnant over worked woman right now. So, the plan was for Tony to spend the ENTIRE weekend with grandma and his cousins while momma bear and papa bear did ___________. I shall fill in the blank. ABSOLUTELY NOTHING. That's right people. Our cub free weekend consisted of us:

1. Staying up late watching nonsense television (Well, the husband did this. I promptly passed out on the couch some time after 10:00 p.m. as is customary)
2. Sitting on the couch watching nonsense television.
3. Eating like college students and letting the dishes pile up like one too.
4. Sleeping past 7:00 a.m. ( I actually slept to 9:00 a.m. on both Saturday and Sunday).

Oh the absolute joy. I really did need the mini-break my mother afforded us. I can't stress enough the importance of what others call "me time". I don't really call it "me time". I prefer to think of it as time to just exist. We play so many roles throughout the day-mother, wife, friend, sister, daughter, employee, employer-that we forget to just be Cassandra. Yes Cassandra is all those things and they are just a part of me but there is also a part of me that exists that doesn't want to think, plan, execute. It simply just wants to be. It wants to lay in the bath tub surrounded by bubbles and not a care in the world. It wants to pick up a violin and strum a melody while every thought in its mind is silenced by the sweet music. It wants to paint and sip wine knowing that it doesn't matter if its understood. It  just wants to exist. So I got to do a a lot of that weekend given that football season is cranking back up. I left the husband downstairs with our college buddy and I went to my room where I did nothing but exist. It was a great cub free weekend.

Toddler Language

It's funny how the onset of a toddler forces you to realize your own little behaviours that you NEVER noticed before. For example my son will burst into a song out of nowhere and will walk around performing little tasks while humming some melody I have never heard and can only assume he invented. So I made the mistake of saying to my husband, "I don't know where he (the cub) gets this spontaneous singing from". Almost 30 minutes later I am doing something,  I can't remember what, and my husband says "Really, you don't know where he gets it from?" Apparently, at that exact moment I had burst into a random song that I'd invented based on what I was doing at the time. Thanks Husband for impolitely pointing out to me that the cub gets that behavior from me. There has been others and each time it has been very funny to realize that he does what he see us do.

Over the past months the cub has been discovering words and basically creating his own language. I mainly fault......

                   This book                                                  and                                              this man



Here are my reasons why.......

Bedtime consists of us bathing the cub, reading a book, and saying our prayers. The cub's latest favorite book is Brown Bear, Brown Ber What Do You See. This is mainly due to the fact that the husband makes animal noises for each of the animals as he reads the book. The cub LOVES this. Well, here is a list of names for the each animal according to the cub:

Bear                    Roar
Cat                      Meow
Dog                     Woof Woof
Fish                     Blurp Blurp ( it's a bubble gurgling noise that fish make in the water)


If you say the real names he understands you mean bear but anytime he sees a bear he calls it Roar. All dogs are woof woof except our dog Pancho who is lovingly called Dog by the cub. Oh and the snack food Goldfish and the movie Finding Nemo are also called blurp blurp.

Other words mysteriously formed on their own.
Blanket                              Bla
Clean                                 Wash
Bathe                                 Wash
Grandma (maternal)          Nanny    (this is only interesting because we call her Nana)
Grandma (paternal)           Mommy  (perhaps because the husband calls her this but we call her Abuela most of the time)
Mommy (me)                    My mommy

Then some words makes sense
Uncle                                Tio (spanish for uncle)
Pot Pot                              Training Potty
Light                                  Light or Luz (light in spanish)

The inspiration behind this blog happened this morning when my adorable little not yet two year old son said to me "bla wash". Well, he has learned the art of commands. So, before I left for work this morning I placed bla in the washing machine. He was right it was time for a good cleaning.

Cub #2 On Board

So I finally shared with the world the news that cub #2 is on board.

 

This delightful news was a surprise and has made for an interesting pregnancy. With Antonio the Husband and I had been trying to conceive for a while so when we learned he was on board there was immediate excitement and relief. Excitement to finally be blessed with a baby and relief from the fear of infertility.  We weren't planning this current pregnancy and we were actually trying to wait just a little longer. Our finances are not where we need them to be to start Antonio in childcare, which is necessary if we have a second child, and given my cesarean from the first pregnancy we wanted to give my body time to properly heal. We began to suspect we were pregnant while on vacation in Cali, Colombia. Then we were given reasons to believe we weren't pregnant. It stunned us both that we were a little disappointed that we weren't expecting. Funny because prior to the trip we were both adamant that we weren't ready. We got home and I took a test just to be sure and it was positive. I took another one for good measure and it too was positive. I immediately called the doctor, booked an appointment, and confirmed the good news.  I think our logical minds had suppressed the fact that emotionally we were ready even if the bank account wasn't.  This reminds me of a funny episode from Friends. I thought I'd share the video. Start at 5:07 to get straight to the point but if you  LOVE Friends like I do why not watch the whole thing.

 Now a couple things about second pregnancies and being pregnant while raising a toddler.

 

1. Each pregnancy is different is an understatement.

 This pregnancy has been NOTHING like the first. First pregnancy-no sickness, no energy in first trimester but after that I was the energizer bunny, stretching and round ligament discomfort in the second half of the pregnancy, no swelling anywhere including feet ( I still wear the same shoe size as always), no skin discoloration or bumps, no heart burn-I think you get the point. I had one of those dream pregnancies. Ummm so this pregnancy-nausea nausea nausea. I don't know how I managed to leave the house and go to work each day with all that nausea. I can't eat most foods I like and routinely eat. All I want is seafood, steak, and sushi. So judge me if you want to but I have caved and eaten sushi. Not raw sushi the fried cooked stuff. Now I am in the second trimester and the nausea did miraculously leave but I have headaches all the time. My belly ballooned out and I was visibly pregnant at like six weeks. What the heck. It's not fair to already need maternity clothes and have people tell you that there are two in there or that you are not going to make it. Oh and smell aversions! I've had to run out my office suite A LOT. I don't know what those people are heating up or eating but my goodness does it reek.

2.  An almost two year old could care less that you are pregnant.

The cub doesn't understand or seem to care that I am pregnant and therefor have no energy, am sick as a dog, uncomfortable, and fragile. This is evident because when I am lying on the couch battling nausea he insists that I get up to kick the ball with him, play Legos, pillow fight, etc. His new joy is to make me lay on the floor while he uses me as a ladder or step stool.  Have I shared that my child has an affinity for violence? Not sure why or where he is getting it but he likes to sword fight (we don't own any swords. He turns the vacuum cleaner tools and kid toy golf clubs into swords). He loves wrestling which usually includes him jumping onto you while you are laying down. He gets a kick out of this. I don't know why he is so rough. I guess boys will be boys. But the problem occurs when I tell him I can't wrestle or play that game with him. Oh he loses it. So, I have concluded that my being pregnant is far removed from my cub's cares or concerns.