Updates and Idiots

I've been meaning to get back on here and post something. We moved from a laptop to the iPad and it's sometimes a little difficult to the on a screen. I'm getting better, but if you see major glaring typos that's why.

I think my life is finally getting back to normal. We had Squeaker in Sept. and it's been one thing after another since then. We had Halloween/ Samhain. Then Thanksgiving, Yule, and Christmas. Plus two really bad colds/ flus that ripped through our house. Now the Hubs is doing inventory at work. So after this weekend, everything should be finished and we can go about life as usual. Just with an added bundle of joy.

Luckily, I haven't had anymore issues with the Angel Baby and her potty training. And she's getting more used to having Squeaker around. He's discovered his tounge. It's quite cute actually. He will be chewing on his fists and suddenly he's holding his tounge with his fingers. So hilarious.

Not much new to report, really.

Except a funny / really? type of scenario that happened at work the other day.

So I work at a university. In an all graduate department. So we're not talking about some 18 year old idiot here. This idiot was at least 23 or so. Still an idiot age to many of us, granted.

Anywho, we've been offering more and more online courses. And of course, they fill up super fast. Like within a week of registration opening. This idiot decides at the last minute that he needs to get into a full online course. Now in this situation, we always refer the student to the professor. If the prof is willing to give you an override, we'll put you in. Keep in mind that it's already two weeks into the semester as well.

So this student comes to the professor teaching the course and says "I need you to drop someone from the course and put me in the class. Because I have a job and need the course for my position."

Really?!?!?!?!?

REALLY?!?!?

You have the balls to ask that the professor kick someone else out of the course. Someone that registered with enough time to get into the course. But because you have a job that somehow makes you better than them and therefore you deserve to get in the course.

Puh-lease.

The correct route would have been to just ask if the professor would allow you in the course and then give your reasoning.

I was very happy that the prof laughed at the request. Granted it was over email so the poor delusional individual was unable to see just how idiotic his request really was.

You know, just because you're the center of your Mommy and Daddy's universe doesn't mean that you are at the center of everyone's.

Idiot.

The Day from Hell

**************WARNING***************

If you can't handle stories involving little children and their issues with potty training. Or stories about cleaning up bodily fluids. Don't read any further.

Seriously.

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Last Saturday turned into the day from hell. It started off like any other day. And seemed to be one of the better days as of late. Until we got home after dance class.

Angel Baby fell asleep in the car. It happens all the time. No worries, I scooped her up, and plopped her into her own bed. She's done this many, many times before. Well, she comes downstairs about a half an hour later with an armful of clothes.

Now my little Angel Baby has turned into quite the fashionista. She will change clothes about thirty times a day if you let her. So I again, didn't think anything fond it. Until she dropped the bomb on me.

"I pooped in my pants."

Now she's learning and she still has accidents from time to time. I'm still not overly worried. We'll just clean her up and go forward.

Now I offer her lunch and tell her that she has to have a nap. So after lunch we're going to have a nap. No worries.

I get her into bed, read her a pre-nap story, ask if she has to use the bathroom, (no she doesn't), and I proceed downstairs with the Squeaker to nurse him.

I hear her rustling around upstairs. And I start to smell something horrible.

I put Squeaker aside, luckily he's now passed out in a food coma, and head upstairs.

Oh. My. God. Of all that is Holy.

My lovely little Angel Baby has pooped her pants again. And this time she tried to clean up. I know I should praise her for being Little Miss Independent. But when you come into a bathroom with shit smeared all over her, her clothes, the floor AND the walls. It's very difficult not to lose your mind.

I managed to clean her and the bathroom up. And I was very proud of myself. I didn't raise my voice. But oh my, did it take work. After getting her cleaned up. Again. We headed downstairs. She proceeded to fill her pants a few more times. She also smeared poo on the walls again. This time I caught her before she coated the entire bathroom.

And my little Angel also told me that I had to clean up her toys, not her.

Again, patience tried. And won. Whew, I'm doing well here.

She is now upstairs, hopefully passed out by now. And all I can say is, thank God, the day is almost over!!!

I think I deserve a medal for this.

*Note: I realize that she was probably not feeling very well, which probably played a big part in me not losing my cool.

Adjusting to Two

No. I'm not dead. Just learning how to juggle two children. It's been really interesting, let me tell you. The Squeaker is just as sweet as he could be. My little Snuggle Buddy. Probably the easiest baby in the world. But you add a three year old to the mix and boom. Crazy hijinks ensue. My Angel Baby has had moments of being my Devil Child. She'll act out when I'm holding Squeaker. I know it's an attention thing, but it's still hard to deal with.

But now after three and a half months with the new baby, we're finally starting to come to a sort of equilibrium. She's starting to understand that he isn't going away. And become used to the idea of sharing Mommy.

Hope you all had wonderful holidays. Samhain/Halloween, Thanksgiving, Hanukkah, Yule, Christmas, New Year's. Never really thought about it before, but there are sure a lot of holidays squished together at the end of the year.

I haven't really been on blogger much since my last post. I'm hoping to start catching up with all of you again. Now that things have settled down.

Nice to be back.

Introducing my Little Squeaker

Here's my little Squeaker. He's such a loving, bundle of snuggles. Here he is passed out on Mommy. He was born on Sept. 18th. 9.3lbs. 20 inches, blue eyes and strawberry blong hair.

Hope you are all doing well. I'm playing catch-up with all your blogs.

Updates on the Pregnancy

So, I had an ultrasound last Friday to check on the progress our Little Man is making. (I think his nickname is more likely to become "Dude".) He's measuring at 8 lbs. Give or take a pound. Yeesh. I thought he'd be smaller since I'm retaining less water with him than I did with my daughter.

Yesterday I went in for my checkup. They scheduled me for a C-section on the 22nd if he doesn't come by then. Oh boy, I hope he does. Since in the next 5 days, I have to go to the doctor's office/hospital /lab 3 times. Ugh.

Apparently, the doc and the ultrasound tech are worried about my fluid levels. Amniotic fluid for those not in the preggers vocab know. So, I had a non-stress test yesterday morning. Should have taken 10 minutes. Took an hour because my "Little Man" wouldn't stop moving. Note: He hates to have things on my belly. So I have to go to the hospital on Saturday for another non-stress test, the Ultrasound lab on Monday for another ultrasound and back to my doctor's on Tuesday for another non-stress test.

I sat down with the Dude after my appointment and told him that he needs to come, because I don't want to spend all that time running from appointment to appointment. Maybe once he realizes that every time I have to run, it's more seat belt uncomfort-ness for him, he'll get fed up and just come already.

Keep your fingers crossed.

Nearing the Finish Line

So, I'm now at 34 weeks. The little man is measuring quite large. So, in a week and a half I will be having an ultrasound to check on his size. My doc wants to see if he's really big, if I have more fluid, or if it's half and half. After that we'll decide on delivery methods.

I'm somewhat ready for him to get here. Just a few more things I have to check off my list. And we'll be good to go.

In other news, I signed up my daughter for dance. It's a tap/ballet combo and it's for 8 months. Yep. 8 Months. Luckily, if she hates it, we can drop out at no extra cost. But the funniest thing happened the other day. We were buying her ballet and tap shoes. The sales lady asked my daughter to point her toes when she had the ballet slippers on. And my daughter looked at her and pointed to her toes. It was almost like she was thinking....

"Um, my toes are right there. Why do I need to point to them?"

After a minute or so she figured out what we were trying to get her to do. Such is the mind of a two and a half year old. LOL.

And my Angel Baby finally moved into a big girl bed. She now is sleeping in a full size bed. I'm so proud, but yet sad that she's growing up. I guess this happens with all milestones. Though, to be honest, I was really excited when she got out of diapers...and started sleeping through the night.

Updates, Gripes and Pleas

Okay, so I'm alive. Everything is going well with the bun in the oven. I'm now at 32 weeks and I'm ready to have this kid already. The Hubs, Wee One and I went and visited family on the other side of the country last month. It was fun, but exhausting. Though I have to say, my daughter is a great traveler. At 2 1/2 I figured there'd be some screaming, crying, carrying on. Something. Nope. She was an angel both going and coming back. In fact, she got a lot of compliments from our seat neighbors after each flight to tell her what an angel she is/was. Relief on my part. And let me tell you. Squeezing my 7 1/2 month pregnant self and a 2 1/2 year old into an airplane lavatory. Oh my goodness! Talk about tetris-ing yourself. Having to figure out where to put her, and shimmy my way around. Ugh. Thank goodness we only did it a few times. Pull-ups are a great relief!!!

Now on to the gripes.

For Goodness sake people....don't comment on any pregnant woman's belly in the following fashion.

"You look like you're going to explode."

"You look like you've eaten way to many ____."

"Are you going to deliver any day now?"
"No. At the end of September."
"Twins? Triplets?"
"No. Just one."

Or when I say the end of September. Then you tell me there's no way I'll ever make it. And look like I'm a crazy person for not going into labor right then and there.

My doctor and I aren't worried with my progress. I realize I tend to carry everything low and in the front. So I looked like I was full term (for most average women) at 5-6 months. Every pregnant woman is different. Back the fuck off!!!!

I swear, I've been blowing it off. No rude comments back. But the next time a person decides to comment on my size, or tell me how I'm just deluded and that I'm really 11 months pregnant and why haven't the Guinness people called me yet, I'm going to fucking lose it!

Really.

In fact, the only comments that I really enjoy.

"You look adorable."

"You are so cute."

Something along those lines. I don't usually like to be called adorable or cute. But when I feel so gigantic already, then have to deal with random rudeness from idiot fucktards, I will take it.

So, a plea to all of you out there that might think to comment on a pregnant woman's belly.

99.9% of the time, you shouldn't say a single word...unless you're hoping for suicide by proxy.

.1% of the time, you compliment the pregnant woman.

And that .1% of the time should only happen when there's a woman, like me, that is so obviously pregnant that there's no way she could just be gaining weight.