all good things

Usually by the end of a week of vacation I'm about ready to get back to work.

This time around...not so much.




We had a lovely time at Hilton Head (not that you can tell from Mack's expression--he looks like he's in the final scene of "The Blair Witch Project" there) but all good things must come to an end, and now we're back. We've already booked our stay for Spring Break next year (taking a little bit of a gamble, in that I don't know precisely when Spring Break 2013 is going to be yet, but historically for the Atlanta Public School system it's the first week of April, so I guess we'll just sit on that week until there are indications that we have miscalculated). I don't think that we've had any real family time off since Thanksgiving, and it was very nice just to be in a quiet sunny place where the kids could have fun and we could just...sit. Sit and be. And poke dead jellyfish with sticks.




Anyway, we got back to Atlanta Thursday afternoon, and Friday I took the kids to Target with me to load up on Easter stuff for our third annual celebration of Easter Sunday since I decided in 2010 that we were going to start celebrating Easter Sunday in the purely sacrilegious, secular sense.  All the candy, none of the guilt and boring church bits!  And I only had to re-hide the eggs once this year!  (I thought Mack would be all into the "hunt" aspect of the Easter egg hunt, but once he figured out there was candy inside them, all he basically wanted to do was open them directly into his gullet.)








Joe's parents are with us, so we're going to have a big family dinner tonight for the holiday, in which a spiral-cut ham will play a prominent role. (I think this is traditional? For Easter? Or maybe just traditional for big family dinners. DON'T ASK ME, I'M NEW.) So I should probably head on down there to see if I can help arranging the cutlery or what have you, but I'll leave you with these past three weeks of belly shots. (Not to be confused with Jell-o shots.) Sharp-eyed readers will note that I don't have a photo for 23 weeks, but that's because I was very busy at work that week and kind of forgot to take one.

24 weeks:



25 weeks:



26 weeks:



As an added bonus, you too now know the secret for extremely cheap but marginally cute non-maternity maternity wear, which is elastic waisted skirts from Forever 21. They are awesomely easy (if not, you know, masters of cut and drape or high-quality fabric) but come on, they only cost, like, $6 each! So just get them, who cares!

spring break 2012

Apologies for the lack of updates, but it’s been a pretty busy few weeks at work leading up to Spring Break—my penultimate entry, the one about organ donation, I actually wrote in my cubicle while on call on a Sunday, killing time between OR cases. But enough of this work talk. I WANT TO LIVE AGAIN.

So…Spring Break!

We’re spending the first half of the week at a rented house on Hilton Head Island, which sharp minds will remember as the exact same place we spend Spring Break last year. But that’s the kind of people we are—it’s the same with restaurants, actually, because once I find something on the menu that I love, it’s very difficult for me not to order the same thing every time. Occasionally I think, “Self, it’s a big menu, maybe I should try something else, and I will like that other thing equally or even more!” But then I think, what if I don’t like it as much, and then I will have wasted one of my eating-outings with a meal that I know I could have enjoyed better? And the worry about that haunts me, for real, because clearly I have psychological problems. So with that, and with things in general, our motto is to stick with what works. Confession: we’ll probably be back here again next year. But maybe, if we’re feeling daring, we’ll rent the house next door. Maybe. ADVENTURE.

Anyway, here are some pictures. You may have seen some of these if you follow my Twitter or Tumblr mini blog (the mini blog is where I post a lot of my pictures on the go—-I know everyone loves them some Instagram but I like to make my own space for archival purposes). And if you’re not following me in those places, well, why the hell not?








The thing I really like about this area is that for a lot of the day, it seems like we're the only ones at the beach. It's actually a pretty busy time at Hilton Head--aside from it being Spring Break, there's also some kind of crazy golf tournament going on--but our rental house is at the end of this little appendage of land in this cove, so we're off the main beach somewhat and it feels very isolated. Which is great, because of my fear and loathing of other humans.  (Mostly fear.)







Like last year, we're here with Joe's parents, which has been really nice for the kids. It also means that they end up with twice as many beach toys as they had originally. Here they are flying their new kites. Mack highly approved of his new Angry Birds kite. (Yes, Mack is wearing 3D glasses as sunglasses for some reason, like some kid in Atomic Age America.)




Mack has this stuffed animal that he likes--a blue Baby Gund soft puppy that I think someone gifted us before Cal was born, in which Mack has started taking some moderate interest these past few months. He calls it, quite imaginatively, "Soft Puppy." I mean, he's not inseparable from it or anything, but he likes it quite a bit.  I asked him, several times, if he wanted me to pack Soft Puppy in our luggage to take to the beach house.

"No, because I don't want him to get sandy," he told me.  Sounded reasonable.  My fault for not just packing the damn dog anyway.

Our first night in, after being on the road for eight hours, Mack asked me if we could go home.  "Can we go home, get Soft Puppy, and then come right back to the beach house?"

Uh...

I explained to him that it wouldn't quite be possible to drive home just to get Soft Puppy, but that he would be safe at home and that we'd see him in a few days. Partially I blame road fatigue, but he just completely decompensated. I'm not going to say anything else about it except at one point I quite calmly told him he should probably stop screaming or one of our neighbors might call the police. Finally we managed to calm him down (luckily I had brought along a collection of his familiar books from home, as well as a cache of prickly plastic dinosaurs that he indeed decided to sleep with instead), but the next day we headed to the nearest local general store and Mack chose this new stopgap measure stuffed animal, which he has named "Sister Bear."




So now he's walking around with a pink bear and that makeup brush to his left.  He likes the feeling of the hair on his fingers, kinda like Lenny from "Of Mice and Men" with the dead mice in his pocket; I got him the makeup brush purely as an act of self-preservation because it was either the brush or having him hang onto my hair like a baby orangutan. My sensitive young man.

Speaking of sensitive young men, here is the other one, asking us sullenly if he could please go into the house and play chess already. On Spring Break. At the beach.




(To be fair, he also was requesting to play "Kung Fu Rabbit" on my iPad in addition to chess.) We quite cruelly forced him to continue playing outside to fortify his anemic humors and rachitic bones, but we're on a vacation with grandparents, so everyone's being a little indulged.




Anyway, we'll be here until Wednesday, and head back to Atlanta on Thursday. Hope you're all doing well and enjoying each other as much as we are. Meanwhile, I will continue to wear a series of increasingly inadvisable tank tops with horizontal stripes.


durable goods

I don't think I was particularly hysterical with my first pregnancy (being a Peds resident at the time helped--certainly I had a living catalogue before my eyes of all the terrible things that could happen to children, but I also developed a pretty good normative sense of what to freak out about and what else was not such a big deal) but certainly I was as susceptible to the merchandizing opportunity as any other new parent. I don't think we went overboard, but I do remember thinking that our choice of stroller was somehow critical, and also thinking it important that we had a coordinated nursery decor (down to the wallpaper trim) with crib linens to match. Of course, this was back in the days of folly when we thought Cal was going to be sleeping in his own room starting at birth. Oh Michelle of yore, YOU WERE SO YOUNG THEN.

(To be fair, our stroller got much heavier use when we lived in the essentially pedestrian-only culture of Manhattan. Mack, on the other hand, child of suburbia, sat in a stroller maybe a grand total of 20 times in his life.  The rest of the time we just lugged him around in our arms or, you know, shoved him in a duffle bag or something.)

OK, so out of no disrespect to Thing 3, one thing I told myself when we found out we were pregnant was that we were not getting a whole shitload of unecessary stuff this time. Mack was lucky enough to inherit a lot of stuff from Cal's tenure, but you'll remember that we basically liquidated all our baby gear after we moved here last Spring and so, with the exception of a few forgotten toys and some flannel receiving blankets that have since been turned into Absorbancy Rags of Unknown Origin, we're starting from scratch with the new kid. The new kid, who, despite receiving essentially no hand-me-downs from her brothers, will still be clothed in almost exclusively boys clothing for at least the first three months, simply because they were really, really, really on sale after Christmas.

However, there are a few things that I will shell out for again this time around, simply because they worked so well the first two times. Here is a partial list.

Mother's Milkmate Breast Milk Storage Rack and bottles
Sometime later, maybe when I'm actually on maternity leave and have some damn time, I'll do a more detailed post (Again? I feel like maybe I've done this already but people always ask me so maybe I haven't) about the logistics of pumping when you're working at a hospital full-time. But in any event, for those other of you who are contemplating breastfeeding your kids but need to, you know, not actually be present when your kid is eating, this little system works very well, particularly for keeping track of how much milk you have in your fridge and in what order it needs to be consumed. (Human breast milk lasts for about 8 days in the fridge, if recollection holds.) Each bottle holds 4 oz. as has both a stopper and a screw-on cap (so they're leak-proof), and ten bottles can be loaded into the rack, which dispenses from the bottom in the order in which you put them in. At full capacity (and I mean when the kids were eating like hogs but not yet slaking their appetites with solid foods) I was running two and a half to three racks, depending on pumping success. I also ordered a couple of packs of spare bottles, just to have some extras around.

The caveat is that this rack system does take up some more space in your fridge, so you essentially have to clear a shelf (whatever, half a shelf) to fit it in. But I never got into that whole plastic baggie system (something with how floppy and flimsy they were bugged me, I kept spilling stuff everywhere--also it just seemed like a tremendous amount of waste over the course of a year) and the way the rack is designed makes it much easier, I think, for whatever non-me person was feeding the baby to actually keep straight in what order the milk was to be consumed. Anyway, it worked well for the other two. We'll be getting this system again for Thing 3.

SPEAKING OF BOOBS...

Medela Symphony Breast Pump



This was the pump I used with Cal, at least for the first six months. I rented it from some lactationtrix in Manhattan who eventually moved to Westchester (necessitating the equipment return), and after that I bought the Medela Pump in Style, which I used for the rest of Cal's breastfeeding tenure (for whom I pumped for a year), and all of Mack's (for whom I pumped for 10 and a half months, because obviously I LOVE HIM LESS).

The Pump in Style was...well, it was fine. It got the job done. But in comparison, I do think the Symphony worked better. (I'm trying to phrase this in a way that won't squick out people who know me in person, but look, it just sucked out more milk, OK?) So this time around, I'll probably either rent the Symphony, or buy one and resell it afterwards. It's inadvisable, by the way to buy a used single-user pump like the Pump in Style or similar, but because the Symphony is a so-called "hospital grade pump," it's designed for multiple users and therefore is built with a closed system, meaning no human parts can mix with any of the machine parts. The downside of a hospital grade pump is that it is a tank. I know, I had to carry one back and forth to work on the subway for six months. Vertebral compression fractures, ho!

Sleeper Gowns


We had a ton of these lying around from Cal and Mack, and I think that they are great.  They're basically big long muumuu-like gowns for newborns that don't have any zippers, buttons, snaps, nothing--just an elastic band that runs along the bottom seam that keeps the baby's legs semi-bundled.  Diaper changes in the dark?  So easy.  Just pull up the bottom, and pull it back down.  Also, they are adorable.  The pair I showed above are Carter's brand, which seem to hold up the best (the quality of the cotton is very nice too), but a lot of brands make this kind of sleeper--Gerber makes the cheapest version, but they also have a cheaper fabric which means it's thinner and tends to shrink up quite a bit more.  Anyway, it really doesn't matter, the baby's going to wear them for two months max and then they will bust out of them, Hulk-style.  So by all means, get the cheap ones, just means you can have more lying around as extras for the inevitable GI spillage, above or below.

Prefold diapers
Look, I don't want to give anyone the wrong impression, because we definitely don't do the cloth diaper thing. It sounds like it would be nice, because, you know, THE EARTH, and some of those cloth diaper covers are so damn cute I could plotz--but the fact of it is that given that I work full-time I'd feel pretty guilty about essentially inflicting the work and commitment of going cloth-diapers on someone else for most of the day. So we do disposable diapers. But we do have all these cloth diapers around, even to this day, almost seven years after Cal was born. Because they're very useful.

Look, I think I pretty much summed it up here: what you really, really need with a new baby is rags. Just, like, a pile of rags. And these are good rags. First of all, they're soft and smooth, so you can actually put them on or near the baby without worrying that they're too abrasive. Secondly, they're absorbant, owing to their original function. Third, they're small and stow neatly, so you can keep them in stacks everywhere. Lie one under the baby's head when they're sleeping in the crib. Or under they're butt when they're sitting in one of those chair bouncer things that necessitate all poop to shoot up from the top of the diaper. Stow a couple in your diaper bag to use as changing pads. Keep them in a basket in the living room near where you feed the kid. Boom, it's magical, turns potentially big laundry jobs into small ones.  It's also great for cleaning regular things, like your kitchen counters and windows. Oh, and I guess maybe you could use them as diapers too, but I can't give you any advice on that, because I'm too busy killing the planet. Hats off to you cloth diaper parents out there, by the way. You're the real heros. (But! To be able to chuck that whole smelly poop diaper package away en bloc without having to scrape and rinse and soak anything! Priceless!)

How about you guys? What tried and true baby products--not necessarily expensive, but indispensable nonetheless--can you recommend?

21 - 22 weeks

Well all that medical talk was fun, but now let's get to why you guys really come here: for the pictures of me exposing myself. Spring Break!  Woo!  (Pulls up shirt.)

21 weeks:




Thar she blows. (That fine dusting of white over my lower abdomen on the profile shot looks, I know, like a weird rash--but I think it's just speckling on the mirror from Mack blowing raspberries at his own reflection.  Learning to love yourself is the greatest love of all, my son.)


22 weeks:




You know, I kind of regret starting this week-by-week pregnancy photo montage thing, because it's kind of boring, but I feel obligated to just keep it going because...inertia!  THAT'S HOW WE ROLL AROUND HERE. Anyway, compare it to the picture from 7 weeks ago and you'll see progress, kind of.  Thing 3 is measuring right on the money for dates at any rate, so that's good.

I remember when I was pregnant with Cal, around this point of gestation I was doing a rotation in the NICU.  We had a couple of micro-preemies in the unit at that time (babies that were born around 24 weeks gestation--we actually had one that was even a little shy of that, which brought up some very difficult ethical issues when the parents demanded the full court press) and it was particularly jarring to say the least at that time to see those babies in incubators and know that it was the exact same size and age as the fetus bouncing around inside me.  Anyway, if tradition holds there probably won't be anything terribly dramatic to look at externally until around, oh, say, 25 weeks or so (huh, looking at those old pictures reminds me how we never used to clean our bathroom mirrors, ever--and this was before we had messy kids to blame stuff on) but we'll just continue this little project in the spirit of following through with things I've started.

This is going to be really embarrassing at the end when I do the end-of-pregnancy picture roundup and it becomes glaringly evident that I wear scrubs, like, 85% of the time.  I mean, that's an accurate representation of my wardrobe and everything, but holy hell woman, it's like I'm a cartoon character.  Remember when Charlie Brown opened up his closet and it was just a whole row of those yellow T-shirts with the black zig-zag stripe?  That's me.