Owen will have a SISTER. Everything looked great, the baby measured right where she (that still sounds weird to me) should be. The due date is the same, July 1.
I must admit, I am feeling a little apprehensive to have a girl. Actually, I am feeling the same feelings that I felt when they said Owen was a boy, now it is just opposite. There is also a part of me that is feeling a little scared, wondering how could I possibly love a second baby as much as Owen. I have heard the stories... your love multiplies. I believe it. I don't think I know many people that actually love one of their children more than another, except my mother who may put Emilee at the front. HA HA HA HA - JUST KIDDING MOM.
I know these thoughts are irrational and crazy, just pre-2nd baby jitters. Actually, even more than the fact that I know I am nuts.....I also know in my heart the baby will fit right it and I will instantly wonder how we ever lived without her.
Friday, January 30, 2009
Thursday, January 29, 2009
How can I sleep at a time like this?
No, my lack of ability to sleep is not the result of my pending ultrasound tomorrow. No, it is not the hours and hours of work I have to do. It is not even the horrible pain in my elbow that makes me question whether the pins holding it together have ceased to work.
The cause of my growing anxiety is the fact that OWL's EYE FELL OUT. Owen threw Owl off a very high ledge tonight - just something to do when you are three. He hit the hard floor and pop, the eye broke from its hinges and fell out. We were ready for bed and snuggled together when I glanced down at owl. It was at that time I almost stopped breathing. I screamed "OH NO". Owen looked down and came close to hyperventilating. He started crying. I grabbed the little guy (owl, not Owen) and raced him upstairs to locate the missing eye. There it was lying on the ground. I took the half blind owl and after studying how to repair the eye, I reluctantly used gorilla glue to fasten the poor thing back in.
We returned to a wet faced child - owl was as good as new, or as good as I could make him. We snuggled back together with the smell of gorilla glue lingering in the air as we prepared to drift off to sleep. Owen looked at his little friend and in such a soft tender voice, he said, "I am sorry owl".
He looked at me and said, "We will have to get a new eye." I expected that he would say he wanted to get a new owl. He doesn't want a new owl. He has a spare upstairs - the one he bought my dad for Christmas. He wants his owl. I want his owl.
I looked up how to fix an eye on a stuffed animal. I ran across a webpage I won't be returning to which said something along the lines of this... take the stuffed animal, unstitch the back, remove the stuffing, put the eye in and attach, sew back up. I almost stopped breathing when I saw our little friend with ONE eye, can you imagine, me, cutting him open, performing brain surgery. I just can't do it. He is one of us.
So....I looked up and emailed the only option. Teddy Bear Hospital. I think the minimum price is $65.00. (a new owl cost $14.00). I will await their response and in the meantime pray that the glued eye stays in until I have a solution to this utmost problem of all problems.
The cause of my growing anxiety is the fact that OWL's EYE FELL OUT. Owen threw Owl off a very high ledge tonight - just something to do when you are three. He hit the hard floor and pop, the eye broke from its hinges and fell out. We were ready for bed and snuggled together when I glanced down at owl. It was at that time I almost stopped breathing. I screamed "OH NO". Owen looked down and came close to hyperventilating. He started crying. I grabbed the little guy (owl, not Owen) and raced him upstairs to locate the missing eye. There it was lying on the ground. I took the half blind owl and after studying how to repair the eye, I reluctantly used gorilla glue to fasten the poor thing back in.
We returned to a wet faced child - owl was as good as new, or as good as I could make him. We snuggled back together with the smell of gorilla glue lingering in the air as we prepared to drift off to sleep. Owen looked at his little friend and in such a soft tender voice, he said, "I am sorry owl".
He looked at me and said, "We will have to get a new eye." I expected that he would say he wanted to get a new owl. He doesn't want a new owl. He has a spare upstairs - the one he bought my dad for Christmas. He wants his owl. I want his owl.
I looked up how to fix an eye on a stuffed animal. I ran across a webpage I won't be returning to which said something along the lines of this... take the stuffed animal, unstitch the back, remove the stuffing, put the eye in and attach, sew back up. I almost stopped breathing when I saw our little friend with ONE eye, can you imagine, me, cutting him open, performing brain surgery. I just can't do it. He is one of us.
So....I looked up and emailed the only option. Teddy Bear Hospital. I think the minimum price is $65.00. (a new owl cost $14.00). I will await their response and in the meantime pray that the glued eye stays in until I have a solution to this utmost problem of all problems.
Saturday, January 17, 2009
The Constant in My Life
When life gets stressful and I don't know what to expect next, there is one thing I can count on..... the white owl.
Tuesday, January 13, 2009
Too Much to Do
I am up against some horrible deadlines. I have 2 hours and 14 minutes to finish more work than I can possibly get done. I am sitting here trying to work and this is the conversation going on next to me....
O: "Daddy, I want to climb in your shirt!"
Greg: "I don't want you to climb in my shirt"
O: "Yes!! I want to climb in your shirt and then you will say, Mommy, help me there is a baby in my tummy"
Greg: "No, I don't want to do that"
O: "But we are best friends and best friends like to have me climb in their shirt"
Nothing Greg can do to stop it, Owen climbs in his shirt.
Greg: "Mommy, look at this baby in my tummy, oh, now he is coming out"
O: "Mommy, say "Ohhh, a baby""
Jen: "Ohhhh, a baby, how cute"
Owen climbs back in the shirt and who knows what goes on in there and I really don't want to know, but Greg says he is now uncomfortable and they are done.
O: "Please daddy, just let me get back in your shirt, I won't touch your thing, I won't touch your thing inside your shirt".
Oh heavens, my child is weird.
Now I have 2 hours and 7 minutes to finish too much work.
O: "Daddy, I want to climb in your shirt!"
Greg: "I don't want you to climb in my shirt"
O: "Yes!! I want to climb in your shirt and then you will say, Mommy, help me there is a baby in my tummy"
Greg: "No, I don't want to do that"
O: "But we are best friends and best friends like to have me climb in their shirt"
Nothing Greg can do to stop it, Owen climbs in his shirt.
Greg: "Mommy, look at this baby in my tummy, oh, now he is coming out"
O: "Mommy, say "Ohhh, a baby""
Jen: "Ohhhh, a baby, how cute"
Owen climbs back in the shirt and who knows what goes on in there and I really don't want to know, but Greg says he is now uncomfortable and they are done.
O: "Please daddy, just let me get back in your shirt, I won't touch your thing, I won't touch your thing inside your shirt".
Oh heavens, my child is weird.
Now I have 2 hours and 7 minutes to finish too much work.
Thursday, January 1, 2009
The Moment I Have Been Waiting For !! ??
He is getting big. He is getting old.
Owen's New Year's Resolution: transition from diapers to underwear. He informed me yesterday that tomorrow (which is now today) he would go in the potty. "Hooray", I replied.
He woke up today and asked me to change his diaper. Actually he said, "Mom, you really need to get me a new diaper because there is so much pee in this one."
I got the pee diaper off and it was off to the bathroom for some early morning trying to stay positive not loving being pregnant throwing up.
He strolls in with his pants on, and we haven't talked about the diaper all day. He is wearing underwear and quite content with it. Every time we have asked him to wear underwear, he protests and says he loves his diaper. Suddenly, I am profounding aware, that I love his diaper.
Growing up is hard, mostly for the mom.
Owen's New Year's Resolution: transition from diapers to underwear. He informed me yesterday that tomorrow (which is now today) he would go in the potty. "Hooray", I replied.
He woke up today and asked me to change his diaper. Actually he said, "Mom, you really need to get me a new diaper because there is so much pee in this one."
I got the pee diaper off and it was off to the bathroom for some early morning trying to stay positive not loving being pregnant throwing up.
He strolls in with his pants on, and we haven't talked about the diaper all day. He is wearing underwear and quite content with it. Every time we have asked him to wear underwear, he protests and says he loves his diaper. Suddenly, I am profounding aware, that I love his diaper.
Growing up is hard, mostly for the mom.
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