Random Thoughts

Here are some random things I've been thinking.

• My sister, who is a 5 hour drive away, came to help us with Wild Man while Bear was in the hospital. She was helpful to a degree, but she was also inconsistent with Wild Man and overly critical of my house. Honestly, it wasn't helpful to be told my house is cluttered and disorganized. I also didn't enjoy being told I don't have any taste.
• Pita was here last week to meet Bear, and we had a great visit. This visit reaffirms my belief that she is much easier to get a long with when she isn't with her mother, but that is a separate issue altogether.
• Bear's birth certificate finally arrived, which means we can travel out of Canada with him. We're finalizing plans for our trip to Southwest College Town.
• Wild Man moves up to a preschool room on Tuesday. He's spent the past two weeks transitioning to his new room. Some days he is excited to go, and others he would rather be in his old room.
• Bear slowly seems to be settling into a routine of sorts. He is taking lots of little naps and one long nap of about 2 hours during the day. I'm going my best to make the most of this nap by trying to get some work done on my fall classes. He is also ready to go down around 8:30 for the night, so I generally follow soon after. So far he sleeps for about 4 hours the first stretch and then wakes up about every 2 1/2 hours after that until 7:30 or so when he is up for the day. He is easier to get to sleep than Wild Man was and generally goes right back to sleep after nursing, so I'm averaging about 7 to 8 hours of sleep a night, although it is interrupted. C and I are taking turns sleeping in with Bear on the mornings he sleeps until 8 or 8:30. This gives us both a chance to hang out with Wild Man one on one.
  
• C and I are trying to find some time for us when we can. Generally this means when Bear and Wild Man are napping or after both boys have gone to sleep. It isn't ideal, but it is better than nothing.
• Wild Man is becoming more accepting of Bear's presence. He was really upset last weekend when Bear was at the hospital; in fact, he was more bothered by Bear's absence than by mine. He is still very dependent on me, but he has figured out that I can hug him while I'm nursing Bear, which is a big plus.
• Bear loves Wild Man. At almost 6 weeks, Bear completely lights up whenever he hears Wild Man. He smiles so big for Wild Man, and that makes me melt every time.
• Life with two children is harder than I expected, but it is also easier in some ways. I think I think it is easier because we know what to expect this time. I know Bear will be ok if I have to let him cry for a minute while I get Wild Man some milk. C knows that he will generally have to finish making dinner if Bear decides to nurse while I'm cooking. I've learned that my house can be a bit cluttered and disorganized and it isn't the end of the world (despite what my sister may think).
• Next week, I need to get more reading done for my fall courses and I have to start revising my job letter, which I drafted over a year ago. I don't want to get behind this fall, so I'm going to try to get as much done as possible.
• I also want to start organizing for our trip. This is the first time we'll be traveling with both boys, and I'm a bit daunted at all the stuff we have to take with us.
  

Tired

Bear and I have spent the last two nights in the hospital, and we're beginning night number three. Luckily, we're going into tonight with good news, but I'll start at the beginning.

Last Friday, Wild Man wasn't feeling well and had a slight fever. It was around 100 before dinner, so we gave him some Motrin. It went down, and he felt better within an hour. During the night it back up to 102. C gave him some more Motrin, and again, it went down. He was a little off throughout Saturday morning, but by the afternoon, he was back to himself. On Tuesday evening, I had a headache, which wouldn't go away. I had it throughout Wednesday and had decided to call the doctor by Thursday afternoon if it hadn't gone away. Starting around 10:00 or so on Thursday, we noticed Bear wasn't acting like himself. He had woken up around 7 to nurse, and he had immediately gone back to sleep. Ordinarily he would wake up in an hour or 2 and be awake for a while before going back to sleep. He slept until ten, and when he woke up, he wanted to nurse, but went right back to sleep. He was also more cranky than usual--and for him that means just crying a bit as he is a very calm baby. By 3 I was feeling bad, and I decided to take my temperature. It was 100.8. I then decided to take Bear's; his was 99.9. I called my midwife and talked to her. As we were talking, I took it again, and it had dropped to 99, which is within normal range for a newborn. She suggested we keep an eye on him, but that if it went up again we should take him straight to the emergency room. I went to lie down with Bear, and when we woke up, around 6, he still felt warm. I took his temperature again, and it was up to 100.2. C and I packed up some things, called our midwife, and headed to the ER. Our midwife informed us that we'd probably be kept at least overnight; she told us that it is just routine to keep an infant who has a fever. So we were prepared to stay.

Fast forward to today, we were admitted, and Bear has had every test imaginable. He's been poked and prodded and seen by every resident in the hospital. We got the initial results of his blood work today, and so far, everything is negative. Assuming that his tests results are still negative by tomorrow morning, we will be able to go home. The chief pediatrician met with us early this afternoon (after making us wait all morning), and he thinks Bear likely had the same virus that Wild Man and I had. He hasn't had a fever since yesterday afternoon, and today he acted very much more like himself.

It has been a rough few days. I'm happy to say that Pita was here visiting to meet Bear, and that she was wonderful. She kept Wild Man occupied and distracted all day yesterday. My sister drove up last night, and she took care of Wild Man today, as Pita had to fly home today.

So far, both boys have been in the hospital within the first year of life. I hope this means we won't have any more scares for a long, long time.

Brothers

Wild Man is still getting used to Bear's presence in our lives. For the most part, he is doing well. I wouldn't go so far to say that he is in love with Bear, but Wild Man certainly likes him. He has had a few jealous moments, most of which have occurred when he wants to snuggle with me and I'm nursing Bear. Yesterday afternoon, after he misbehaved in the bookstore and was unceremoniously carried out kicking and screaming by me, Wild Man had a bit of a meltdown. He cried the entire way home, and he was accompanied by Bear who was crying because Wild Man was crying. When we got home I told Wild Man to sit in his quiet spot until he calmed down, and I then began nursing Bear. C checked on Wild Man several times, but he didn't want anything to do with his dad. When he finally calmed down, he came over to me and said, "Mommy, I don't want Bear. Send him away. I need you." I tried really hard not to get upset, but it's hard. I feel like Wild Man resents Bear's presence and the time I have to devote to him. Then I also feel like I'm not able to give Bear the attention I gave to Wild Man when he was an infant because my attention is always split. Parenting two is definitely hard.

But then, Wild Man asks to hold Bear or asks to "nurse" him, and I realize that he does like his brother.

*This photo will disappear in a few days.

Bear

We've recently given Z a nickname, which I will be using on my blog from now on. Z has officially become Bear. Why do you ask? Well, he snorts, snuffles, grunts, and growls. He is generally mellow, but when he wants something he wants it immediately, sort of like I imagine a bear to be. C actually suggested the name based on the various noises that Bear makes. He had been calling him Squeaky, until Wild Man informed him that was not acceptable. Apparently Wild Man approves of Bear, so Bear it is.

Z's room

Here are some photos of Z's room. Please keep in mind the fact that he is a boy will necessitate some redecorating, but only in terms of bedding. For now, we're leaving the daisy quilt up because I really like it. Plus, Z's sleeping in our room, and he couldn't care less about bedding.

So not fun. . .

Um, yes, shopping for a graduation dress/outfit 3 weeks after having a baby is so not fun.

Wild Man's school

Wild Man will be moving up to a preschool room at the first of the month, and he'll begin visiting his new room next week. We found this out yesterday, and C and I are both very relieved. To make things even better, Wild Man will be moving into the same room as both T and D, and his teacher will be Michelle, who used to be his teacher in his current room. He loves Michelle, and he still goes out of his way to talk to her whenever he sees her. This will make the transition much easier on him. After talking with the directors, it seems their concerns were different than ours. They felt Wild Man was ready to move up, but they didn't want to add extra stress on him with Z just having arrived. I pointed out that Wild Man seemed a bit out of sorts without his best buddies; leaving him in a toddler room may be as stressful as moving him up. Thus far, he is adjusting well to his friends' absences, and he is even playing really well with the younger children, which makes me feel better. So it worked out for the best!

Relieved

As I type this, Z is taking his first official bottle of expressed breast milk, and he is taking it fairly easily. I've been dreading this day for a number of reasons. First, Wild Man never took to the bottle. We gave him his first bottle when he was a month old, and he took them easily for about a month. Then he just refused. By the time he started going to daycare part time at 4 months old, he would grudgingly take just enough breast milk from a bottle to stave off his hunger. Many days, I'd pick him up to be told that he'd refused to take a bottle at all. I'd nurse him as soon as we got home, and he'd often nurse for an hour to get his fill. Second, given my fall teaching schedule, I need Z to be ok with taking a bottle, at least one a day. On Thursdays, when I teach 2 classes, he may need to take 2 or 3. I'd prefer knowing he'll take a bottle easily. So far, it seems like Z likes the bottle, and I can tell from the look on C's face that he's clearly enjoying feeding our son. So now begins the cycle of pumping and storing milk, and from here out, Z will get a bottle every other day. Here's hoping he continues to take it as easily.

Z's birth story: A comedy

At 3:15 on June 22, 2009, 5 days past my due date, I had an appointment with my midwife for my 41-week check up. My midwife and I had talked in advance, and she had agreed to do a “stretch and sweep,” which is a fairly non-invasive intervention that can induce labor. Essentially a “stretch and sweep” involves a vaginal exam in which the midwife stretches her fingers in the patient’s cervix as far as possible and then runs a finger between the cervix and the bag of waters. My midwife did this twice, and at that time, I was about 3 centimeters dilated and was easily stretching to 5 centimeters. In the event that this didn’t work, we had planned an induction for June 28th, which would have put me at 41 weeks 5 days gestation with Z. I really didn’t want to wait that long for a number of reasons. I did not want to be induced, but I couldn’t bear being pregnant any longer. On top of that, my mom was scheduled to leave that day, and it was going to cost her about $400 to extend her ticket (thanks to the international fair), which neither she nor I could afford.

After my midwife appointment, C and I went home and picked up Wild Man and my mom. It was hot and humid that day, and although the temperature was much milder than anything we’d ever experienced in Southwest College Town, I was uncomfortable. We decided to take Wild Man over to the local bookstore for a while so I could rest in the air conditioning and he could play with the train sets. While C looked at the home improvement section and my mom shopped for books for Wild Man, Wild Man and I played with the trains and read books. It was nice to have some time just for the two of us. After about an hour or so, we headed home as Wild Man was getting hungry. C took Wild Man to the car while my mom and I stood in line to pay for the books she got Wild Man (as an aside, I highly recommend Margaret Atwood’s children’s books; Wild Man loves them!). As Mom paid, she looked at me and asked if I was ok. I said, “Oh, just another contraction, but this one was a bit more painful than the ones I’ve been having for the last month or so.” We left and got in the car. It was about 5 minutes after 5:00 pm then. We drove home, and Mom started reading to Wild Man while C got dinner ready. I went to the bathroom and had another strong contraction. I asked C for his ipod to keep track of the contractions (he had downloaded a labor application a few weeks earlier for us to use), and I distinctly remember thinking that I was glad I’d put chili in the crock pot earlier in the day.

For the next 20 minutes or so, I kept having strong contractions, which lasted about 90 seconds and were 5 minutes apart. Around 5:40 I told C he needed to get my bag ready and that he needed to eat dinner. At that point, I noticed he and my mom exchanged a look. I tried lying on the couch to manage the pain on my own while C tried to eat and Mom fed Wild Man. I vaguely remember C taking stuff to the car, and then I started calling for him to help me manage the pain. He rubbed my shoulders, and then I told him I had to move around. I went from the couch to the bathroom, where I sat on the toilet for a few contractions. On my way there, I stopped in the dining room to reassure Wild Man who was getting a bit concerned for me. He kept calling for me and asking what was wrong. I wasn’t in a position to talk to him, so my mom and C tried to explain things best they could. Around 5:50, I told C that he needed to call our midwife. This was a bit complicated. Our midwife is currently working with a student midwife who is finishing up her clinical rotation. Since C and I are both teachers we had no problem working with the student, whom I’ll call L. We’d be instructed to page L first so she could get practice assessing women in labor. At the time, I really just wanted to bypass L and call my midwife directly because I knew labor was progressing very quickly, but we followed my midwife’s instructions. We called L and waited 10 minutes; when she didn’t call back C asked me if I wanted him to try her again. I said, “Absolutely not! Call my midwife.” By now it was around 6, and the contractions were getting really strong. As we waited for the midwife to call back, I did something really stupid. I went up stairs to the master bathroom to brush my teeth. I got up the stairs in between contractions without C’s help, and I don’t even think he realized I was upstairs until I called for him. Why did I go upstairs (putting me on the third floor of our house)? Well at the bookstore, I had shared a frozen strawberry drink from Starbucks with Wild Man, and I could still taste it in my mouth. I remember thinking, “I cannot have this taste in my mouth the entire time I’m in labor.” Not the smartest decision on my part, but it is what I did.

I managed to brush my teeth and then went to our bedroom to make sure we had everything. At that point I was hit with a really strong contraction and I called for C. He found me leaning over our bed and demanded to know why I’d come upstairs. I looked him straight in the face and said, “I don’t care what I’ve said for the last 9 months; I want the epidural this time. Make sure you tell L and our midwife that.” He didn’t say anything, but later he told me he knew I was entering transition at that point. C managed to help me downstairs to the main floor and just as we got there my midwife called back. C explained what was going on, and he asked me if I could talk to her. I was in the middle of another contraction and trying to hug Wild Man at the time, so I think I said something not very kind to either one of them. C told her that he thought we needed to get me to the hospital quickly. She said she’d call over to the birthing center and make sure they were ready for us and then call back. She called back in about 2 minutes and said we could head over; she then asked if I wanted her to come to the house and check me there. C passed this along to me, and I said “No, I’m going to the hospital now if I have to drive myself.” I then started heading downstairs. C later told me that B, our midwife, found this amusing; she apparently laughed and said she’d meet us there.

By now it was about 6:20. The contractions were coming really quickly, and C kept telling me to keep track on the ipod. I finally told what he could do with his ipod. Wild Man followed me down the stairs and was really upset at this point. He didn’t understand what was going on, but he knew I was hurting and that bothered him. He didn’t want to leave me, and my mom realized he was going to have a major meltdown. She didn’t want him upset and she didn’t want me upset. She looked at me very quickly and said, “M, I’m going to do something you’re not going to like to distract Wild Man. I’m sorry.” She then said to Wild Man, “Let’s go have some ice cream. Would you like to have some ice cream with Nana before we take a bath?” Ordinarily I would have been displeased with using food as a bribe, but given the circumstances I didn’t care. And it worked. Wild Man kissed me and scampered upstairs. My mom kissed me good-bye, told me not to worry about Wild Man, and very sternly instructed C to take care of me. C then helped me to the car. He tried to put me in the front seat, but I went in the back so I could lean over the driver’s seat. He then told me to put my seatbelt on, and I told him to shut up and drive. Luckily we’re only 5 minutes from the hospital.

As luck would have it, C couldn’t find a close parking space, and being stubborn and in a lot of pain, I did not want him to drop me off. I told him, “I don’t care if you have to carry me; you’re not leaving me by myself.” He found a space as close as he could and we started walking to the hospital. He stuck his ticket for the lot in his pocket; we had arrived at the parking lot at 6:32 pm.

To get to the hospital from this lot, you have to walk over a sky bridge that spans the lower parking lot. As soon as we entered the sky bridge, C grabbed a wheelchair and put me in it. The floor on the sky bridge is very bumpy though, and it was not remotely comfortable. Half way across I got out of the wheelchair and walked, stopping every 30 feet or so for a contraction. We finally got to the elevators, and suddenly my labor turned into a comedy of errors. The elevators in this hospital are notoriously slow, so we waited through at least 2 contractions until one arrived that was going down. Somehow C got me on the elevator in the middle of a contraction, and we pushed our way to the back so I could lean against the wall. Now, we were surrounded by 3 nurses and at least 4 doctors. C was so focused on helping me manage the pain that he never asked for a floor, but he said he thought to himself, surely they will push 2 for the birthing center. When the elevator doors opened everyone got out, including us. We headed in the direction of the birthing center, and C said, “Oh, M. I’m so sorry. This is the first floor. We have to get back on the elevator and go up one floor.” I turned toward the elevator and literally pushed a doctor out of my way so I could lean on the wall to get through another contraction. C said the doctor didn’t even seem to notice, and by now, C was getting a bit aggravated that no one was being particularly helpful. As we waited for the elevator, an off-duty nurse saw us and brought us a wheelchair. Being me I refused again to get in it—it literally hurt to sit down at that point. Standing up was the only way I was managing the pain at all. Given that we weren’t able to sit down or even stand still, we weren’t using any relaxation techniques at all. C was trying to get me to the birthing center as quickly as possible, and I wasn’t being particularly cooperative. But as I’ve reminded him, I was in labor!

The elevator finally arrived and we were on the second floor. C demanded I get in the wheelchair, and when I told him no, he literally pushed me down by my shoulders and moved so quickly I couldn’t get out. We got to the birthing center, and he started checking me in. I got up out of the wheelchair, announced that I had to pee, and went into the bathroom. He ended up throwing my wallet at the receptionist and pulled me out of the bathroom. He was concerned I was going to start pushing, but I really just had to pee. I know now that my bag of waters was so low that it was compressing my bladder, making me feel like I had to pee. A nurse showed up then and agreed to take me to the bathroom. C gave what he thought was my health card to the receptionist, but it turned out to be Wild Man’s. So until after Z was born, Wild Man was the one who had been admitted to the hospital. Once the nurse got me to the bathroom, I took my shorts off to go to the bathroom, and then I told her I needed C. She hollered for him, and then she determined that I shouldn’t go to the bathroom. She led me to an exam room, telling C on the way there that a birthing suite was all ready for me. I refused to put my shorts back on, so she and C wrapped a gown around me and we hobbled to the exam rom. She told me to lie down on the bed. The nurse said she’d check me and then get me a gown to change into. As soon as I opened my knees for her to check me, I knew I had to push. She said the words that are the most irritating thing for a woman in labor, “Don’t push.” I squeezed C’s hand as hard as I could and somehow managed not to push. She checked me and announced, “Oh yeah, she’s ten centimeters. Do you have a doctor or a midwife?” C answered, “A midwife, and she’s on her way.” The nurse then said, “I don’t think she’s going to make it in time.” I looked at the clock on the wall and noticed it was 6:55. It had taken us almost 30 minutes to get from the car to the birthing center. Then my midwife walked in.

I started freaking out a bit at that point because the contractions felt drastically different from what I experienced with Wild Man. They were one on top of the other and coming very, very fast. I told C I was scared, and he and B were great at calming me down. The second midwife, who was there to take care of Z once he was born, showed up, and I could finally start pushing. Pushing was such a relief. Instead of being high up on a hospital bed, on my back with my legs in stirrups like I was with Wild Man, I was on a low bed, and I was able to change positions as I wanted to. The room had dim lights, and the only people there were C, the two midwives, and me. I wasn’t hooked up to any monitors, and I didn’t have an IV (although, since I had tested Strep B positive 4 weeks earlier, I was supposed to have IV antibiotics). In between pushes, S, the second midwife, checked Z’s heart rate with her portable fetal monitor, the same kind doctors use to check babies’ heart rates during office visits. For the next 35 minutes I pushed while lying on my side, with one leg stretched out and the other pulled up. I changed positions once, and ultimately I was lying on my left side, holding C’s hand while I pushed. There was no counting this time. C and B encouraged me, but B let me push as many or as few times in a row as I wanted to. I pushed between 3 and 5 times during each contraction, and the 3rd push was always the strongest. After about 20 minutes of pushing my water broke while I was pushing, which was a strange sensation. It wasn’t the big gush I remembered from when Wild Man was born and my water was broken. Instead it was a small gush and then more gushes every time I pushed after that.

By this point, I was tired and ready for the baby to be born. B told me the baby was crowning, and I pushed really hard. When she told me the head was out and to stop pushing, I just looked straight into C’s eyes to have something to focus on. C told me to look down, and because of the position I was in, I was able to see Z being born. As soon as the baby was born, B put him on my chest, and S helped C and I start cleaning him up. I saw his penis right away and looked over at C, who was looking right at me. We were both quiet for a moment, and I then I said, “Well, I guess his name will be Z.” This was the only boy’s name we both liked, and ironically, it was the only name we had agreed to before I’d gone into labor. We’d gone into the delivery room with C preferring one girl’s name and me preferring another. It seems everything turned out for the best! Still, C was a bit taken aback, and said, “You’ve got to be kidding me!” He quickly agreed that we’d name him Z though. At that point, B was so focused on me that she didn’t even realize Z was a boy, and I noticed she gave us a funny look. After she delivered my placenta, she came to the head of the bed and gave Z a good look. She said, “Oh, that’s why you named him Z. I was thinking that was an odd choice for a girl.” We all laughed, and at that moment L, whose pager had not been working properly, arrived. Remember we’d arrived at the hospital, according to the parking meter, at 6:32 pm; Z was born at 7:36 pm. He weighed 8 pounds, 5.9 ounces, and was 22 ½ inches long. He was a full pound and a half heavier and 3 inches longer than Wild Man when he was born.

In the end, I had a first degree tear, which required two stitches, and I had been in labor for about 2 ½ hours. We spent the night in the hospital and went home around 3 the next afternoon. As surprising as it was to take home a little boy, we’re thrilled with our two boys, and Wild Man, who proceeded to call Z his “baby sister” for the next week, seemed very pleased with Z.

Annoyed

C and I are both a bit annoyed with Wild Man's school today. We love everything about this school (well, except maybe the tendency to serve sugary snacks in the afternoon), so for us to have a complaint is unusual. But we have one, and C was so annoyed that he emailed the director to follow-up on the conversation he had with her this morning when he dropped Wild Man off.

A bit of background: following the Canadian system, toddler rooms (which is what Wild Man is in) have children from age 18 months to 2 1/2 years. The reason for this is that most children don't start daycare until they are 12 months old (thanks to the Canadian practice of allowing caregivers to take up to 12 months maternity leave assuming they qualify). When Wild Man started, he was one of the younger kids in his class, and although this concerned us a bit, he quickly acclimated and made some good friends. Now he is one of the oldest kids. In fact, we were told a few weeks ago that he was the next child on the schedule to move up to a pre-school class. We were excited about this for Wild Man as we knew one of his good friends was going to be moving up soon; in fact, we requested that he be moved up with another of his good friends who is only 4 days younger than he is. The director said that this shouldn't be a problem, so we didn't think too much about it.

Well, last week we learned that Wild Man's best buddy, D, was moving up this week, and we knew that was going to stress him out a bit. We talked about it this weekend and he seemed ok. We reassured him that his other good friend, T, would still be with him, although she had been out on vacation last week. This morning, C dropped Wild Man off and realized that not only was D gone, but so was T. C asked Wild Man's teachers, who explained that both T and D had moved up today. C said Wild Man looked around the room for his friends and turned to C and asked, "Daddy, where are my friends?" Wild Man can (and will) play with the other children, but they are all 3 months or more younger than he is. None of them are as verbal as he is, and none of them are quite as rambunctious as he is. C said when he left, he could tell that Wild Man was stressed out. Given all the other changes that Wild Man is dealing with, C was concerned--and a bit angry. He stopped by the director's office to ask when Wild Man would be moving up. It seems they are having a hard time finding a spot for Wild Man this summer given his "part-time" schedule. So Wild Man, who turned 2 1/2 in April, isn't being moved up because he only goes 4 days a week instead of 5. That made me angry. I understand the intricacies of the schedule and all of that, but it seems like in the 5 pre-school rooms this school has, there would be one that would work with his schedule. The director told C it would be easier to find Wild Man a spot in a pre-school room if he went full-time.

Now we're discussing sending Wild Man full-time if only to ensure that he is stimulated and happy at school. I'm really, really unhappy about this, but I'm not sure what else to do.

Random Stuff

Both Z and Wild Man are napping, and C and his mom are grocery shopping. I should be napping too, but I can't seem to turn my brain off. A lot has happened in the past two weeks, and I'm not certain I've begun to process it all. My emotions are all over the place, so I thought writing might help.

• Wild Man is doing well adjusting to his brother's presence. He's not doing so well sharing me. Saturday morning he had his first major meltdown. Z had cluster fed throughout the night, which meant I was up about every 2 hours. On top of that Wild Man had a rough night himself. He woke up once and took about 30 minutes to go back to sleep, and then he woke up for the day at 6, which is about an hour earlier than he usually wakes up. So C and I were both exhausted. When Wild Man woke up, C woke up his mom, and she watched a movie with Wild Man, so C and I could go back to sleep. At 8, Z woke up, and Wild Man heard him. He came right up the stairs to see me, and he wanted a hug. I was trying to nurse Z, so I told Wild Man to sit on the bed with us and I'd hug him while I nursed Z. Not ideal, I know, but I thought it would make Wild Man happy. I was wrong, and Wild Man had a total global meltdown. He wanted me right at that moment, and I couldn't hold him the way he wanted to be held. I felt horrible. I had to feed Z, but I really wanted to take care of Wild Man, who was clearly not feeling like himself and was exhausted. C, who is inifintely patient with newborns, has little patience for toddlers' temper tantrums, and he wasn't as helpful as he could have been. Really, Wild Man just needed to cry, but going on lack of sleep, C put him in time out. That made things worse. Thankfully Z is already an effiecient nurser, and he was done in about 15 minutes. I was able to give Z to C and comfort Wild Man, but even then it took him about 15 more minutes to calm down. He was off for the rest of the day (which, frankly, wasn't helped by the fact that Yetta insisted on having an elaborate lunch for the 4th and we didn't eat until 1:00, which means Wild Man had been up for 7 hours by the time he went down for a nap.).
• I'm tired, which seems obvious, but it isn't the same tired to the bone I experienced with Wild Man. Thus far, Z is a calmer baby than Wild Man was. He is routinely up for 2 hours in the middle of the night, but as he isn't fussy, he is easier to deal with. In fact, last night was his first real fussy night, and he was having a hard time pooping. Once he relaxed and pooped, he nursed and went right to sleep.
• I have a million things to do to get ready for the semester, and I don't want to do any of them.
• I'm anxiously waiting for Z's birth certificate to come in so we can get him a Canadian passport. Since we couldn't get an appointment at the U.S. Consulate until the end of the month, we weren't sure his U.S. passport would come in by the time of our trip to Southwest College Town in August. Thus, we've decided to get him a Canadian passport. I've been told this will only take about 3 weeks once we get the paper work in, but since the Canadian post is notoriously slow, I'm still worried.
• We have to get the car registered, which will likely be a tedious process.
• C has started installing our new kitchen cabinets (I swear the man must be occupied at all times). They look great, but frankly, I'm tired of talking about home improvement.
• Yetta is wonderful, but she isn't my mom. I miss my mom.
• Yetta hates hanging out around the house, and I'm not really feeling like getting out right now. C, however, wants to make sure his mom has a good visit, so he is giving in to her. I don't want to eat out, I don't want to go shopping, and I really don't want to leave my house except to take Wild Man to the park (which is too far for Yetta to walk to even though it is only 2 blocks away). I told C last night that I need him to remember that I just had a baby, and I'd like to lay low for a few more weeks.
• My sister is being an ass to our mom. I don't want to elaborated at this point, but I will say that my sister is using her recent diagnosis of bi-polar 2 as a means to blame every horrible thing that happened in our childhood (and for the record, we had a pretty good childhood) on our mom.
• C's sister, Pita, has made several comments about Z being a boy. C says they come across as jokes, but she is expressing her disappointment at having another nephew. So far she hasn't said anything to me, and I have already warned both Yetta and C that if she does say anything to me about Z's sex I will not be kind.
  
• I had no idea that having a second child would make me love my oldest child so much more. Despite his clinginess to me, Wild Man clearly loves his baby brother. He constantly kisses Z and tells him how much he loves him. He hates for him to cry, and he gets very upset if we let Z cry for a minute longer than Wild Man thinks is necessary.
• I still need to type up Z's birth story (which, in retrospect, was quite comedic), but I haven't managed to do that yet.
• I have a bunch of corrections to do to my dissertation, per the ubiquitous thesis office, and I have to finish those this week.
• I'm actually looking forward to this coming weekend. Yetta leaves on Wednesday, and it will be the four of us until the end of the month, when Pita comes for a visit. It will be stressful in some ways, but I also think it will be good for us to be on our own so we can start to figure these things out for ourselves.
• I want to give Z a bottle sometime this week. He's nursing great, and I don't want to wait much longer. With my teaching schedule this fall (I'll be on campus 4 days a week), I need him to take a bottle easily. Wild Man never really took the bottle, but I really need Z to be comfortable getting breast milk from a bottle.
• I figure I have another 30 minutes before Wild Man wakes up, so I'm going to try to get through some of those revisions now.
  

Yetta

Yetta got her on Wednesday night, and I'm already struck by how different our mothers are. I'll blog about it at some point, but for now I'll just say that Yetta prefers to shop for us while my mom preferred to clean for us. And I don't think she's stopped talking since she got here. . .