addendum

I realized that that was not really fair, what I said yesterday. I can't actually park the Subaru either.

spatial

The minivan has been a lovely addition to our lives, and we have already gotten a lot of use out of it, despite its ostensible purchase for the purpose of accommodating another child. I am still, however, not great at judging how much room its snout takes up, so parking remains an adventure. I have not actually hit anything yet, instead erring on the side of embarrassing 12-point adjustments.

Also embarrassing are the 12-point turns required to park my own self. This evening I accidentally turned on the stove burner--not just the gas, an actual flame--with my belly. In the upstairs of our house Aaron and I have to coordinate our entrances/exits from rooms so as to avoid logjams.

Dylan, on the other hand, has gotten some kind of grasp of where things are in space. They have a computer at school and she can suddenly use the mouse, leading to endless pleading to play (mind numbing) games on the Sesame Street website. They are also doing handwriting(!) practice with them. The first time she brought home a sheet full of scribbles on "a" outlines I laughed. Then the next week when she brought home one for "b" (they allow them to learn the letters even if you don't pay the extra money) I noticed she was actually starting to approximate at least a circle, if not an actual letter. Aaron thinks she will be good at D's and O's. And! Just for the sake of posting some pictures around here, I will also tell you that she can now catch a ball. Occasionally.

Mish Mash

The last thing we had to do for my rotation was read The Diving Bell and the Butterfly. I had heard of it before, and I vaguely knew it was written by a guy who could only communicate by blinking his left eye, but then you read it and the whole time you're reading it's like aaaah this was written by a guy who could only communicate by blinking his left eye. It's worth reading, although I can't recommend following it up with a discussion group with 30 medical students. The discussion tends towards the...concrete.

******

Dylan currently measures time in naps (where naps = naps OR overnight, try to stay with me). Any statement about something we have planned for any time in the future will be followed by the question, "After this nap?" It sorts of breaks down as a system once you get three naps out or so. It's fun to have her be able to look forward to stuff, although we have gotten wise about mentioning things that are too much fun too far ahead of time because it will only lead to impatience and ultimately PAIN FROM THE WHINING STOP ASKING BECAUSE THAT'S NOT HAPPENING FOR ANOTHER WEEK WHICH IS LIKE 15 NAPS.

Also, she snorts when you get her laughing. I highly recommend it.

******

I am doing that thing where when you suddenly have more time you become paralyzed by having too many options about how to spend it. The sugar issue has at least removed cookies, the baking and eating of as a choice, but it's not really helping. Stay tuned to see if I self-destruct.

1001 Posts

Remember that time when I flunked all the pregnancy glucose lab tests? And then I didn't mention it again for a month? Mysterious, I know. The glamorous truth is that even though I didn't actually get diagnosed with gestational diabetes, no one else seemed to make that differentiation and I promptly ended up at the nutritionist. I have been testing my blood sugar four times a day ever since and trying to be good about following my diet, which has now crossed over into the ridiculous realm of low-carb vegetarian. I hadn't googled that phrase until today, but for you, readers, I have now learned that there is a book by that name and any number of websites that could help me achieve my weight-loss goals by avoiding both animal products and carbohydrates.

We went out to dinner with some friends who actually thought I had inexplicably embarked on an odd diet mid-pregnancy until they saw me checking my glucose after the meal. It was tricky at first to figure out how to eat enough calories without eating too many carbs. I now know the answer: fistfuls of cheese, cashews, and avocado. And 85% dark chocolate works for my ongoing chocolate needs. Unfortunately, Aaron now has another reason to shoo me away when I try to sneak sips of his beer.

The testing stuff is all fancy and it hardly hurts at all, plus I got to make another spreadsheet. Dylan thinks it's fun watching me. She has, helpfully, been unfailingly zealous in pointing out that I don't get to eat treats. Actually, she has been quite helpful lately as I have descended into some kind of semi-functional pregnancy brainfog. She is like a little external hard drive for me. Particularly if external hard drives had moods. Moods that were limited to "cranky" for a solid month.

Last time I was pregnant we went into the hospital with a plan to reunite me with a nice beer within moments of delivery. I didn't actually want one when the time came, but it's the thought that counts, right? This time I would like a large serving of french fries on a bed of mashed potatoes, with a side of milkshake.

Done.

I finished the last of my makeup shifts yesterday. I'm not officially done with this school year until I finish the next week of lectures, but I've done all the clinical time. It would probably be bad form to say on the Internet that I have mentally checked out, so...yeah. I've managed to wear myself out entirely trying to finish up, and it's hard to catch up on rest between Dylan's failure to grasp the idea of sleeping in and my kidneys' enthusiastic nighttime performance. I remember this part from being pregnant with Dylan, where I basically feel pretty good but if I try to do too much I'm useless. I started ripping up the house to get ready for the baby a few months ago, and at the time it seemed a little silly to start so early, but now as I look at the projects that stalled out when I started these rotations it seems prescient.

For the next month I am studying for my next licensing exam and trying to catch up on research stuff. And finishing up getting the house ready. And possibly interacting with my child, dog, and husband, should they cross my path. Which they may or may not choose to do, depending on my mood. You know, with the hormones and all.

Activities

We decided to get an early start this week with the overscheduling of the child, and started her in both soccer and swimming. The swimming is to force us to give her more regular exposure to water so she won't be so scared of getting in the pool (lessons thus far: 1; times entered the pool: 0; maximum number of adults simultaneously pandering to her to get her in: 3). The soccer is because her best buddy is doing it and it sounded like fun and I have six weeks where my schedule isn't so crazy, yet I am newborn-free. I had to miss the first session because of my constant presence in the psych ED this week, but Aaron was kind enough to give us these brief, yet dizzying, glimpses into soccer for three-year-olds. She was scared of the shin guards to start with, but now she is proud of them. I like how they go to her knees. Full coverage, you know.





********

Speaking of Aaron, he offers this review of Transformers: "I think they could have cut it down from 2.5 hours without taking too much away from it."

Sorting

You know how people like to divide the world into two kinds of people? I have a new categorization. Here is a quiz for you to place yourself into this new schema.

When I cheerfully announce that I and most of my family had swine flu last week do you...

A) Express deep and heartfelt concern because oh no! You're pregnant! Are you okay?

B) Take three steps backward and suspiciously inquire as to my current temperature.

Bonus points if you ask whether I recently spent time on a farm.

*****

None of us was ever alarmingly ill. Instead we had a few days of fever, followed by a week of existential malaise. For some, this meant staying in bed much of the day. For others, writing melancholic poetry. For still others, it meant wrapping their pathetic self around my person all day, every day, including taking a nap curled up around the extensively-documented belly, all the while emitting a whine so grating that all the houseplants died, along with my eternal soul. I think we're better now though.

*****

On top of our collective malady, we were in the Hudson Valley for a wedding over the weekend (Dylan's sixth wedding by my count), plus I am compulsively trying to schedule all my makeup shifts for school in one week, possibly in one day, because I would really like to be done. I don't think we've all been this worn out or busy in a while. Aaron has nonetheless found the strength to go see the transformers movie this evening. He's a brave little soldier.

Postscript

Well. Just as I was posting this morning Dylan shot straight up off the couch, wondered why she was wearing a sweatshirt, and commenced bouncing around the living room in a highly energetic manner. It soon occurred to me that I was still feeling just the opposite of bouncy, and that the two of us were not going to mesh well, karma-wise, if left alone in the same household all day. The day (9/9/09, or 666 upside down as we like to think of it) was therefore hastily amended from Pathetic Sick Day II to First Day of Preschool.
NB: She will only accept photographs when posing, and will only pose in this manner.

It hadn't occurred to me that she might be a little bored in the room she had been in, but when I heard all the stuff they did today I realized that she was really ready for something new, even though we have opted for the Dunce Track. And we LOVE her new teacher. They moved four of her friends up with her, so it now feels like Saved by Bell: The College Years: Preschool Style. She had a great day and came home chattering about the fire drill and her haircut (they do them there, which is awesome) and her friends and then collapsed into a pile of whine as she does after daycare every day. When I came to get her the teachers were optimistically trying to get them to do puzzles, with actual interlocking pieces and such. Good for them! I will not be the one to tell you it will never work!

One other thing I have been enjoying about daycare is that Capitalist though they clearly are, Dylan is always coming home talking about how a new Friend joined the class that day. Vaguely Communist, no?

A picture of...

I woke up this morning to a faint little voice whispering, "Mommy, I so cold...so cold."

She is a generally good sleeper now, but anyone familiar with Dylan's sleeping preferences will note that the very fact of her being asleep in a place that is not her bed requires either a sedative or an illness, and I cannot for the life of me remember slipping her any benedryl. Also, going back down for a nap at 8:30am is not one of her usual practices.

Contagion

This is, or was going to be, my last week of clinical rotations for this year of medical school. I got a call from my preceptor this morning that he didn't want me to come in the rest of the week even though I am feeling better because he doesn't want me "infecting" all his "patients." It turns out that he does not actually have the authority to excuse me from a full week of the rotation, so later in the day I got an e-mail that I would have to make up all the time I am missing. I would much rather just finish this week, but I can't really argue because the CDC says healthcare workers should still stay out for a week. There is just something so unsatisfying about having to now squeeze some more clinical stuff into my schedule instead of just finishing, especially since it will probably all be evening shifts after a full day of lectures.

The psychiatric emergency department, where I will do the shifts, is at least an interesting place to be. Last time I walked in to see a patient and the first words out of his mouth were, "My wife is seven months pregnant and is driving me crazy." Then the resident came in and started into talking to him about women and their hormones. I did not throw any punches, but I was only barely able to overcome the (presumably hormonal) impulse to do so.

H: 2 N: 2 Dylan: 0

Two observations from today:

• Flu makes a child cuddly
• Packages with glass carafes should be opened carefully

H: 1 N: 1 Kate: 0

Well Kate is now out of commission, so Dylan and I went to a birthday party without her. There were many fun activities and cup cakes to be had there, including painting - which allowed Dylan to get in touch with her inner-technicolored Jackson Pollock.


And this is just her palette. It will join the barf bag in the Dylan master piece section of our house.

Your Anniversary Present: Belly Pics

I spent all week trying to capture the Essence of Belly, which is not easy. You are now the lucky recipients of the fruits of my labor, so to speak. For the last one, did anyone see the Project Runway with the maternity wear? And the pillows for the models to wear? I bet you thought it seemed a little unrealistic, but not so, apparently.

Four Years

Dylan's eye view

This is what I gave Dylan, belatedly, for her birthday. We tend to string these things out, if you hadn't noticed. I got a cool little Canon elph camera for my birthday so I wouldn't have to decide between lugging the big one around and not taking pictures. Dylan has been very gentle with it, so I let her run around taking pictures when the mood strikes. Then I forget and upload all the pictures and wonder why I was so enchanted with my shoes or why I couldn't seem to focus that day. Every so often one of the ones she takes comes out pretty cool, and when I put a bunch of them together it started to seem like it really captured her point of view. So this is a collage of a bunch of the ones I liked, which I printed into a poster and framed.

Happy Birthday Dylan

Sorry I don't have any pictures of you not looking goofy, but that's something you're going to have to work out with the camera.

More party, in words

Yes, the Cupcakes of Irony were indeed the result of instructions from the magazine swiped from the lab. I did not eat a single one, or even a piece of one, including the many constituent parts. Extra components now litter our kitchen, including bags of marshmallows (panda snouts, penguin bibs), thin chocolate cookies (penguin flippers), and mini oreos (panda ears). I have to say, the cupcakes were worth every minute of labor that I, as foreman, squeezed out of my entirely voluntary work force.

The party went really well. So well, in fact, that guests remained in my home for pushing four hours. I had not envisioned quite that measure of success, and next year may take steps to make things slightly less fun, for purposes of getting my (post-party) dinner into my cake hole a little more promptly.

Dylan was absolutely perfect during the party and had the best time. We paid for it in other ways, with 1.5 days of anxious excitement-->irritability beforehand and 2 days of exhaustion-->irritability afterwards, but we've all recovered now. Except for Aaron, who has logged about 6 evening hours this week setting up a new play kitchen for dylan and is still a little twitchy.

Party, in pictures

Part I: The Sweatshop


Part II: The Anticipation


Part III: Activities!



(Not pictured: clothing-optional tie-dying)

Part IV: Sinister Cupcake Armies



Part V: Culling of the Herd

in treatment

I have been on my psychiatry rotation for the last week, at the state mental hospital. For some reason the way it is set up is that the work room where all the doctors and social workers and other staff putter around all day is at the end of a long hallway. Not too weird, right? Yet, this long hallway is the one where the patients hang out all day long, and they're sort of bored because all the funding got cut for extra programs, so in order to get from the work station to anywhere else you have to walk the entire length of the hallway with all the patients who are mostly in various degrees of recovery from debilitating schizophrenia or bipolar disorder and have nothing better to do than try to engage you, whatever that means to each of them. It can make one...consolidate one's trips. If only because it doesn't seem very nice to be totally engaged with people during their therapy and then have to blow them off because you're getting between me and my lunch.

As part of this rotation I am required to go to an AA meeting. I did the waddling in part, then promptly scuttled on down the hall to the Al-Anon meeting after the three 50-something men looked me up and down and cheerfully suggested that that was perhaps where I ought to be headed. So family, you can be assured that I am now getting the support I need to deal with your excesses.

sugar, revisited

Ahem. About buying myself a ticket to the three-hour version of the gestational diabetes test. I seem to have managed that even without adding an extra meal mid-test, which is how over the weekend I ended up at a far-flung lab, not allowed to leave the building for three hours, during a 15-hour fast interrupted only by another sugar drink, now with double the sugar! Plus four blood draws. Rather than studying for my test during my confinement, I took the opportunity to familiarize myself with the dazzling array of magazines in the waiting room. One issue of LHJ (Ladies Home Journal, for you newbies who have not recently read the June, July, and August 2008 issues; all marriages were saved) had instructions for animal cupcakes, and since I am coincidentally planning a party for a rather short crowd that might appreciate such a treat this weekend, I was forced to abscond with that issue.

And...I managed to almost escape without consequences. Due to bad karma from my immoral actions, one of the four blood draws came back high, which is not enough for a diagnosis of gestational diabetes, but it's enough to switch to being pretty careful about what I'm eating. Which means I probably won't get to partake in the luscious cupcakes, which is just as well because they should be too pretty to eat anyway. I am also now getting up at 6am to exercise, which works for Snuffy because it gets too hot for him to exist by about 7:30 each morning.