We got the sicks.

Oh.  My.  God.

Make it stop!  We are so sick here and it's driving me nuts.

I am such a baby when I'm sick.  All I want to do is lay in bed all day.  But with 2 small kiddos, that really isn't an option.  So I usually mope around feeling sorry for myself.  But last week when Brevin, Isla, and myself got sick, I was screwed.  There was no time for moping.  My step-mom texted me and said, "This is when you get your super mom powers."  And it's totally true.  I have no clue how I got through last week, but I managed.  Yesterday when we all still woke up sick I decided we needed to get seen by a doctor, especially little Brevin.  I knew I had a sinus infection from all of my years in dealing with them.  This was one of the worst I've had though...it didn't respond to anything OTC.  Thank goodness I got a prescription...it's already working like a charm.  Brev's meds for his ear infection seem to have kicked in a little...but he's still a mess.  I'm waiting on a call back from the nurse regarding some grunting he has been having before and after his coughing fits.  Isla's cough seems to be getting a little less deep and frequent.  Maybe we'll all be healthy by the end of the week?? 

I'd give anything to be able to take this little man's cold away.  He has been a trooper, but I just feel so bad for him.  He loves hanging out in the Ergo and getting extra snuggles from his mama :)

And no, my boobs are not size 36Z.  The cleavage in this picture is somewhat alarming.  But I'm too lazy to censor it :)

Sleep

I'm not sure which is more dangerous.  The 2 comforters we are sleeping with, the pillows, or the drool and morning breath coming out of my [wide open] mouth.  Good God can't I just breathe like a normal person?!

I'm not a fan of co-sleeping, but I am a fan of squeezing in an extra 30 minutes of sleep.  And on this morning, sleep was more important than moving Brev back into his Rock n Play after his bottle.  No way I was risking waking him up.

Plus, look how cozy and content he looks. 

Brevin is a great sleeper but he has bad sleeping habits.  He hasn't even spent a night in his crib yet!  Yikes.  His spit up issues have made the Rock n Play our best option.  I know I have to just bite the bullet and get him sleeping in his crib or pack-n-play soon...but I'm not ready for that war.  And he still can't sleep without being swaddled.  Ugh.  Completely the opposite of Isla.  She was in her crib and in her own room the day she was home from the hospital!  The thought of having Brevin sleep in his own room makes me sad! 

Plus, who wouldn't love waking up to this every morning??

He melts my heart.  And his unusually loud morning farts have become my new alarm clock.  I just can't let go of my little man!  I'm amazed at how much my parenting has changed.  2009 Betsy wouldn't dare co-sleep and certainly wouldn't even think of having Isla sleep in the room with her in fear of starting bad sleep habits. 

Hmmm.  So right before I sat down to blog I had swaddled Brevin and put him in his crib awake to see if he'd nap.  He was a little fussy so I figured why not?  At the very least he'd be entertained by his Dream Screen for 20 minutes.  But he just fell asleep!  Unfortunately he spit up a TON prior to falling asleep, but he had the good sense to move his head away from the enormous wet spot.  So maybe the transition will be easier than I thought?  I was sort of hoping he wouldn't fall asleep so I could keep him in the room with me...

Crap. 

Two is Better than One.

When I was pregnant with Isla, I had many women share with me how difficult the transition from one kid to two kids was for them.  Seriously almost everyone had a story about how tough the adjustment was.  I didn't think too much of this.  I mean, obviously adding another kid to our family meant more work.  2 kids to feed, bathe, clothe, play with, snuggle, love...you know...keep alive.  Clearly there would be some sort of adjustment period.  I was a little worried about how I'd handle it all.  Isla and I had fallen into a lovely little routine, and I really had no idea how throwing a baby into the mix would effect our day to day stuff.

Enter Brevin:

He is seriously the most amazing little guy.  He has been nothing but an easy baby.  Well, his spit up issue is slowly killing me, but whatevs.  His easy-goingness totally surprised me.  I considered Isla an easy baby, but in comparison to Brevin, she could be considered a high needs baby.  Seriously!  She never cried, was a great sleeper, never spit up, and was generally just a super happy kid.  BUT she need constant stimulation.  She wouldn't sit in her swing or bouncer for more than 10 minutes.  She always needed a change in scenery.  She didn't love being held for long periods of time, but she didn't like being on her own either.  She was a tricky little thing to figure out. 

Brevin is chill.  He will sit in his bouncer or swing for long periods of time.  I bring him into the bathroom with me in the mornings and he hangs out while I shower, shave, AND dry my hair!  He is perfectly content in his bouncer.   Glorious. 

Anyway.  I have found that having two kids is easier than one.  There are lots of reasons, but it basically boils down to this:

1.  I am obviously experienced this time around.  I know what to expect.  And I'm a far more relaxed mom.  I'm not obsessing over routines and schedules.  I'm not googling every little worry I have about Brevin to see if it's "normal" or not.  I just go with the flow.

2.  Having two kids makes me less lazy.  Back when it was just me and Isla, I got a little too comfortable in my lifestyle.  We would watch tv together in the mornings, she would play while I'd read blogs/email/facebook, then we'd both take naps every afternoon.  I'd squeeze in some cleaning while Isla played, or some days I'd forgo a nap and do a deep clean.  Now that I have two kids I don't have the luxury of napping.  Actually, I find it quite hilarious that I was obsessed with squeezing in a nap every. single. day.  Now I'm much more strategic about planning my day.  I still don't have a routine, but each day requires a lot of thought.  If we are running errands, I need to get myself ready first, then Isla, then feed Brevin and immediately leave so I have 3 hours where I can be out of the house before the next feeding.  I have to figure out when I can clean the house.  Instead of lounging on the couch a lot of the day, I actually get stuff done.  Shocking concept.  Both kids are content and playing?  I will clean the kitchen!  Both kids are napping?  I will probably blog and catch up on my DVR...but I first do 1 chore before I have my "me" time.  I will admit I am a far more productive person now that I have 2 kids.  I totally have my lazy days where nothing gets done, but I try much harder to stay on top of things. 

Back when I only had Isla, I would dread running errrands with her.  Even a quick Target run had me panicky.  I had a babysitter each Wednesday for 3 hours so I could run errands without dragging a toddler along.  It was glorious, but a little silly looking back on it.  Now I don't hesitate bringing both kids with me.  It's just how I have to do things!  Sure it would be easier alone, but it's really not much harder lugging Brevin around too.  Plus getting out of the house is nice (and necessary for survival). 

I got lucky having two easy kids.  Really, really lucky.  My life has only changed for the better.  Sure not everything is easier with two kiddos, ie: getting out of the house on time, but it has certainly made me a better mama and a better person. 

This is the only picture I have with both kiddos.  Yikes.  Really shows off my lovely post-partum glow. 

I know I had said earlier that Brevin is my last kid.  But he totally isn't.  I'm shooting for one more.  And I'm hoping that three will be better than two...??  We'll see. 

Sick Day.

Being a stay at home mom is tough.  The worst part of the job is having no sick days.  Normally Andy would stay home and attempt to work while watching the kiddos, but he had so many meetings yesterday that he absolutely could not stay home.  Ugh. 

Anyway, this is how my day started out:



 

Oh God.  I know.  Horrifying.  My lovely husband snapped this photo after attempting to wake me up multiple times.  Once I was awake, I stumbled downstairs and went through the motions of being a mom.  Both kids had new diapers and were fed.  Thank GOD Brevin fell asleep around 11 and took a 3 hour nap!  Sadly, Isla fell asleep at 1:50 leaving me 10 minutes of alone time before my little man woke up.  Grrr.  Those damn kids.  I swear they planned it. 

Anyway, this is what a sick day looks like at my house:

Take it all in.  The TV is on.  My enormous bra is on the floor, the kids jammies are on the floor, and Isla has pulled out almost every single toy in the entire house.



My child has no clothes on.  Her lunch is in that purple cup (A cheese stick, breakfast bar, and pretzels.  Fancy and nutritious!)  If you look closely you will see 3 empty juice boxes on the couch.  But there were freaking 5 juice boxes laying around our living room.  5!!  She normally gets 1 a day.  I was so lazy I just left the box of juice boxes on the counter and she'd go grab one when she was thirsty.   Bad parenting at its finest.

Anyway.  We all survived yesterday.  I'm just happy no one called CPS. 

I will shout it from the rooftops if I have to...

Gah.  I'm a terrible blogger.  I don't have much free time on my hands...and if I do I'm either catching up on my DVR, cleaning, or Facebooking.  The only thing that could break me out of my blogging funk is sharing my life changing experience with pelvic floor therapy.

Yep.  Pelvic floor therapy.  (This is another TMI post.)

As I'm sure you remember, Brevin's birth left me with a Frankencrotch.  I had a tear on the outside (partial 3rd degree) and a lot of internal tearing.  When the stitches finally healed I was left with a good amount of painful scar tissue.  The majority of pain was internal.  My OBGYN immediately suggested I make an appointment with the pelvic floor therapist at the local hospital.  He wrote me a referral and I stuffed it in my purse, agreeing to make an appointment  (although I hadn't really planned on it).  Who the heck does pelvic therapy?!   He assured me she would not only help with my post baby pain, but the painful intercourse problems I had been experiencing for years.  (Back story: Both of my kiddos were conceived with the help of lidocaine gel, which basically numbed the area to make sex less painful.  We could never have sex without it.  So romantic!  Because of the pain I experienced, we only had sex if we were trying to make a baby, or if I was drunk.  Poor Andy.) 

Anyway, being the procrastinator that I am, I left the referral at the bottom of my purse for a few weeks.  Then I got my period and tampons had suddenly become my biggest enemy.  They literally felt like they were made of sandpaper.  They irritated my scar tissue and caused so much pain that I couldn't wear them.  I was back to wearing pads.  This is when I knew I had a problem.  I was willing to deal with painful intercourse forever, but pad wearing is where I draw the line. 

So I finally got up the nerve to call and schedule my appointments.  I had no idea what I was getting myself into and the thought of actually going to these appointments was rather nerve wracking. 

The big day finally arrived and it was less painful/awkward than I imagined.  My therapist is amazingly kind and we managed to carry on a conversation just fine while she massaged my scar tissue.  I wasn't a huge fan of the rectal massage, but thank GOD that was a one time deal.  Basically, during each of my 45 minute sessions, she massages and stretches the internal scar tissue.  She also helps me with Kegels and has me focus on various relaxation techniques to keep my muscles from tightening.  She discovered my vaginal muscles were much tighter than normal and that was most likely the cause of my painful intercourse problems.  Not only does she work with the scar tissue, but she teaches me stretches and exercises to do at home to improve the strength in my pelvic floor.  I also have homework. 

After 6 sessions of therapy it was time to have sex (gasp!)  I was freaking terrified.  But Andy was one jump away from doing a back flip when he heard this joyous news, so I pretended to be happy.

Anyway.  I begrudgingly obeyed my therapist and seduced Andy on a bed full of rose petals.  Actually, it was a bed full of laundry while my Brevin was on the floor in his bouncer watching Yo Gabba Gabba.  Whatevs.  Close enough.   Nothing like having sex while DJ Lance is bouncing around in the background.  Anyway, imagine my surprise when it didn't hurt.  Not one freaking bit!  I don't even have the words to describe how incredible it is to go from pain to NOTHING in a matter of a few weeks.  My life has been completely changed.  I feel normal!  We hadn't had sex without lidocaine since early 2008.  Super exciting!  I can also wear tampons again without any feeling any pain at all. 

I feel the need to tell everyone I know that pelvic floor therapy changed my life.  I have heard far too many women complain about incontinence and pain after childbirth.  Most women just deal with it because they have never heard of pelvic floor therapy.  My former OBGYN never once suggested pelvic PT.  He told me I'd have to deal with the pain and gave me a prescription for the lidocane gel.  I resorted to having a crappy sex life because I didn't know better.  I am incredibly thankful to my current OBGYN for the referral and my therapist for her amazing work. 

So yeah.  Pass the info on to a friend.  I have no problem sharing my story in hopes that it will help someone else!

And now I promise I'll stop blogging about my vagina.  Seriously this time.

I'm getting OLD.

Last Wednesday I went back to my old high school for my sister's induction into National Honors Society.  First off, am I the only one who thinks this group is some sort of cult?  Anyway.  I was sitting in the remodeled school's indoor courtyard (it used to be an outside courtyard when I attended York) and I had some crazy flashbacks to my high school days.  I could picture myself walking through the courtyard in between classes just to feel the sun on my face for a whole 35 seconds.  Then I did some quick calculations and realized I was a freshman 16 freaking years ago!  Holy CRAP!  I remember it like it was yesterday.  For a good 20 minutes I started panicking.  Where has the time gone?!  What have I done with my life?!  Why am I so fat now?  Why am I soooo old?!  I instantly wanted to be transported back to high school, and relive my carefree days.  But then I remembered my adorable kids at home, and decided that I am one lucky mama.  I'd still give anything to be a size 2 again though.  Ohhhh a girl can dream, right?!

17 year old Betsy.

Then last night we hit up my old favorite bar, Docs.  I have had some of my very favorite (crazy, drunken) nights at Docs.  I was excited to go back and make some more crazy memories.  But instead I had 3 drinks (in 5 hours), yawned the entire time, got annoyed that I had to scream over the music to have conversations, and ended up leaving by 12:30.  It was a nice evening...I liked hanging out with my friends and siblings, but I seriously kept looking at my phone thinking...Brevin is going to be up in 5 hours.  4 hours.  3 hours.  OH GOD I'M SO TIRED!  There was no dancing.  No shots.  No trying to score free drinks (hahaha as if I really could in my current condition!).  No crazy pictures.  No falls.  No plans to find something to do after hours.  All I wanted to do was SLEEP!  Yeah.  Childless Betsy would sleep until 12 or later after a night at the bar.  Current Betsy does not have that luxury.  Damn those kids of mine for needing me in the mornings ;)

Carefree Betsy after a night at Docs.  Ohhhh to be young again!

So yeah.  I'm starting to feel old.  I even woke up with a headache this morning from 3 drinks.  Pathetic.  I told myself 30 was going to be the best year ever.  So maybe I should try to at least squeeze 1 crazy drunken night in before I turn 31...just to prove that I'm not that old...

We'll see. 

Old Betsy. 

Breastfeeding Bust.

Ohhh man.  Poor Brevin was only breastfed for a week before I gave up.  Have I mentioned that I hate breastfeeding?  Oh yeah.  I did. 

Prior to giving birth, I really wanted to make breastfeeding work.  I was even *gasp* excited for it.  But the minute my little man was latched on to my boob, I remembered how much I disliked it.  I toughed through that first week, supplementing a little formula here and there, mainly to keep me sane...and then I gave up.  I pumped a few times a day for the following week to give my little man a few ounces of boob milk, but made a clean cut after my bought of mastitis cleared up.  I was DONE.  The minute I switched over to bottles I had a huge sense of relief.  Freedom!  I had felt like such a prisoner...always breastfeeding or pumping.  Ugh.  I hated it. 

I feel a bit guilty for giving up so quickly...I mean...I at least made it to 5 weeks with Isla (along with supplementing formula)!  But whatevs. 

Happy mama = happy baby. 

And he is seriously one happy baby!