My Opposite of Maybe

I just got back from spending five nights in Charleston, SC with my sister and four week-old nephew. I had a great time in an awesome city with some of my favorite people. It went by way too fast as days tend to do with newborns.  It takes time to get out of the house, the days revolve around feedings, and then you look at the clock and it is already 4:00. The greater majority of the last five years of my life have been filled with days like these. And I have loved every second of it (well, maybe not while I was in the moment all the time), but I can honestly say now that those days are behind me.

I’ve said it before, but this week pretty much solidified it… This baby shop is closed for business. Not only does my sister have all of my baby stuff, but I’m just not interested in going back to the newborn phase. Been there, done that, bought the frumpy maternity clothes… And now I know I’m done.

Don’t get me wrong… I loved the snuggling and baby time. I loved his smell and soft skin and his sweet little face while he slept. But, I also loved that I could give him back. I’ve heard it a million times, but now I get it. And it’s the first time I’ve ever felt that way. I’m far enough from that phase that I can look back on it fondly without any sort of longing for just one more. I’m good with what I am so lucky to have. I’ll encourage my friends and family to keep popping them out so I can get a little fix from time to time, but that’s pretty much it. I’m excited for the next phase of my life.

At the same time I’m so excited as my sister starts this new phase of her life. It’s so fun to watch her and she is doing awesome with a baby who is a little more fussy than most. She’s totally keeping it all in perspective – something I was totally incapable of doing with my first newborn.  And I’ll keep cheering her on… from my next phase of life with a cocktail in my hand.

This post was inspired by the novel  The Opposite of Maybe by Maddie Dawson. At the age of 44, Rosie finds herself suddenly single and pregnant. She tries to hide in her grandmother’s home, but meets two men that will change her life forever. Join From Left to Write on April 8 we discuss The Opposite of Maybe. As a member, I received a copy of the book for review purposes.

How to Support Friends Through Infertility

If you think you don't have friends struggling with fertility, you just don't know the truth... because, trust me, you do. I've had a number of friends face fertility challenges, including a couple of my most favorite people. It sucks, no matter what the issue may be. Some just took longer than they thought to get pregnant, a couple were lucky after taking some drugs to kick start their efforts, and then there are a few who have gone down the road of IVF and more. Some have been successful, others have not. And as my friends struggled I had three healthy pregnancies, one even that was a huge surprise.

I feel the void that they feel as our family has rapidly grown with very little effort. It's incredibly unfair. It makes me sick that it's just luck. Dumb luck. And I'd by lying if I didn't think "why couldn't it be them?" when I found out I was pregnant with A. Seriously.

I've cried when reading text messages about miscarriage and unsuccessful attempts from a friend I know couldn't bear to have to speak the news to me. It's heart breaking. All of it.

People, you never know who might be dealing with fertility issues. So, do me a favor and keep your mouth shut. Don't ask people when they're going to have children (I'm looking at you, nosy old ladies) or go overboard in telling them how amazing it is to have children (trust me, they know).

So, while those are some pretty obvious things that you should not do. Here is a list of ways you can be supportive of friends dealing with infertility:

1. Don't Make Assumptions: It's really easy to make assumptions about what friends who are struggling with fertility issues will and will not want to do with your family. Don't jump to conclusions. An invitation to your child's first birthday party may feel like the worst thing you can subject them to, but extend the invitation with the understanding that you get it if they choose to pass.

2. It's Not About You. Your friends pass on your child's birthday party invitation? Don't want to come to your house for trick-or-treating? Seem a little distant? Get over it. It's not about you.

3. Don't Ask. Don't text every month to check in around ovulation time. Don't ask for an update every time you see her. If they want to discuss it, trust me, it will come up. Ask "how is everything," which is a good way to allow them to talk about the awesome soup they made for dinner last night or pull out a box of tissues and sit down for a heart to heart. You open the door, it's their choice to walk in or close it.

4. Do Tell. You're pregnant? Give them a call and let them know. Find a way to discuss with them before you invite them to the dinner with your 20 closest friends to make a grand announcement. Or just don't do that. I bet your friendship is more important in the long run. And do tell them about things going on with your kids. They're interested in your life and your kids, because they're your friend. Not talking about your own kids is like an elephant walking into the room. Just be thoughtful in how you approach it.

5. Be Positive. Don't ask what they're going to do if they don't end up delivering a child. As long as they are on this road, you're on it too. Let them determine the alternative routes. They already are a family, the same as you... Just minus the minis... for now. They don't need your opinion on their next steps. Unless they ask for it.

I'm no expert. I have no certification. But, I think I'm a pretty good friend and one of my strengths lies in my ability to read people and what they need. So, take my advice or leave it. And, better yet, comment with your own advice.

And, to my friends who have struggled and continue to struggle with fertility, I've never wanted anything as much as I've wanted you to be successful, because I know it's important to you. I hope I'm not a huge idiot in giving advice to others. I hope I've been a good friend to you. And I'm so honored you've held me in confidence and friendship on your journeys.

This post was inspired by The Blossom Method’s You Never Know campaign. My participation is voluntary and I have not received any financial compensation. All thoughts and opinions are my own. The Blossom Method is a therapy practice offering support, community, comfort and hope to women and couples experiencing issues related to infertility, pregnancy loss, genetic complications, pelvic disorders, NICU preemies and postpartum depression. 

Phone: 312.854.0061, email: info@blossommethod.com, website: www.blossommethod.com

Welcome Baby Amelia

It's been quiet around here, I know. I lost all energy or motivation to post in the last couple of months. Things would happen and I would think "I need to blog about this..." But then I wouldn't. However, something happened and I must blog about it.... We're now a family of FIVE.

Our male domimated household has received a 7 pound shot of estrogen.

Her name is Amelia. And we are insanely in love with this sweet girl.

Tricky #3

I've been having contractions since Saturday. Monday night we even made a false alarm trip to the hospital. The L&D nurse came in and asked me what number baby this was for me. When I told her it was #3, she laughed and said, "Ahhh... Tricky #3!" Apparently "go-time" is harder to determine with a third. It would have been nice if someone warned me about this.

I could have sworn it was time, but as soon as they hooked me up to the monitor, it became obvious that I wasn't quite there. So, they said I could walk around for a couple of hours and then start pitocin. But, honestly, I didn't need to have this baby bad enough on Monday night and there were too many loose strings to tie up and I told  them I wanted to go home. So, we did. I kept my feet up all day yesterday and guess what happened... The contractions stopped late in the afternoon and I woke up today feeling like a million bucks.

I saw the doctor today and she thinks I'll go in the next 48 hours. So, consider Baby Watch 2012 to be on.

It's Baby Month and I'm Tired

It's October. It's the month we've been looking toward for months in anticipation of the arrival of Baby #3. Man, we got here really fast. And suddenly I'm putting together a massive to-do list for these last three weeks. You can probably call this nesting, where only half of the items on the list really have to get done, the rest (like "touch up paint in the dining room") can wait.

But, looking at the three weeks we have left until our due date really means THREE WEEKENDS. That's three weekends to get an incredible amount of stuff done. Not to mention there are swimming lessons, naps, grocery shopping, laundry, meals, and the like thrown in every weekend, which leaves us with a few precious hours to actually get stuff done.

And we're trying to do fun stuff with the boys and enjoy these last few weeks as a foursome before we're outnumbered and have to request a much-harder-to-score table for five everywhere we go.

There's a lot to do and not a lot of energy to put toward it. Seriously, these last few weeks have got me tired.

Wish us luck.

Just Another Morning With Two Working Parents & A Surprise

Today should have been one of those days that fell into place. I stayed up late last night and marinated chicken and chopped veggies for a Greek salad for tonight's dinner. I woke up a half hour early this morning to make lunches for Matt and me and make sure I could get showered and dressed early enough to help W with his new morning routine (make bed, go to the bathroom, brush teeth). I put on an outfit I liked, put on makeup, and then went in to wake up W. He likes to take his time getting out of bed and - though I always do - it feels wrong to rush him in the morning. So, I gave him extra time this morning and didn't turn on the light to get him moving as I usually do.

We got into the bathroom, started brushing his teeth, and in the light I realized that his eye was swollen. Like really swollen. I asked W if he fell at preschool or remembered anything hitting him in the eye. He said no. And then I remembered that the evening before, as our nanny was getting ready to leave, W called us into his room to show us something (can't remember what it was) and ended up pulling a curtain rod down on his head... with his mom and nanny watching. At first we were concerned, but he yelled out: "Take that curtain to someone else's house. It's bad!" So, we ended up laughing and he didn't seem hurt. He ate a really good dinner, had a bath, played, and acted totally normal after the rod incident. But, that had to be source of the swollen eye. I touched the side of his head where I suspected a bruise was forming and the rod had hit him, he confirmed it hurt. Bingo.

One of the more unspoken moments of two working parents is deciding who stays home. Matt and I usually stare at each other for a minute, mentally review our day and the other's stress level, and then one of us offers to stay home. It had to be me today. Matt took one for the team when I was traveling a couple weeks ago and B spiked a fever. So, with my bag packed, all dressed and ready to go, I jumped on my computer to see what would have to be moved on my calendar and emailed my understanding bosses (how they are still understanding, I don't know) that I would have to work from home.

Our nanny arrived as I was sending the email and B ran to me and held on tight, clearly freaked out by the excitement in our house. I decided to drive Matt to the train. Matt gave W a hug good bye and a complete breakdown followed. Full on tears, open mouth crying, snot... Clearly the kid was in pain and dad leaving was the trigger. So, I told him that if he stopped crying he could come with me to the train station, which worked. Until B figured out what was going on (the kid understands everything, but says very little) and got hysterical as well, which made W hysterical and insist that we couldn't leave B at home. So, there Matt and I stood, defeated by a swollen eye or curtain rod or whatever triggered this morning. By now Matt had missed our normal train, so we each grabbed a kid and headed for the train station. Meanwhile, our nanny was left to hang out with Howie. Poor thing.

Anyway, it all worked out fine. I called the doctor as soon as they opened, scored a late morning appointment, headed down to my basement office and crossed a couple of things off my to-do list. I took W to the doctor who mentioned he might have a black eye when he wakes up tomorrow and confirmed he seemed fine otherwise. I even managed to hold him down long enough to get a flu shot. I stopped and had a special lunch on the way home with him, capped off with a special cookie (flu shot bribery). Then the boys spent the afternoon with our nanny at the park and I got back to work. Our nanny stayed a little late so I could catch up. I entertained the boys, started dinner (much easier given the prep work), and then strapped the boys in the car to pick up Matt from the train station. I felt like I had somehow found a balance. I made both my mom and work responsibilities happen today only because I work for and with people who are understanding and value my work.

But I'd be lying if there wasn't a voice in the back of my head that kept repeating what Matt said on the way to the train station: "How are we going to juggle all of this with three?"

My Mom Voice Won Over My Reader Voice

I've been a member of the From Left To Write Book Club for a while. It has consistently been one of my favorite online communities and has inspired what I feel are some of my best posts on this blog. And, oh yeah, we get to read a great list of diverse books... Except I didn't read this one. The point of the book club is not to write reviews of books, but to allow the book to inspire a post. And though I didn't read January First by Michael Shofield, it inspired this post.

Being a mom changes something in you. Every four year old is as innocent as your own. Difficult stories, diagnoses, painful experiences all take on a new layer of severity. It could be your child. What would you do if it were? How would you survive? These thoughts now touch me deeply. They reach deep down to a place of emotion I didn't even know was there before I became a mom.

I don't like to get emotional. I'd rather keep my emotions at bay and avoid crying as much as possible. I find myself avoiding sad movies. I skim over articles about victimized children. I refrain from reading blogs about tragedy. I try to keep myself safe.

I signed up to read January First with some hesitance. The story begs me to read it. But, I was conflicted about whether it would be good timing with being as pregnant as I am these days. Take this line from the cover, for instance: A Child's Descent Into Madness and Her Father's Struggle to Save Her... Might not be in the best interest of my emotions to read that book right now, said my inner mom voice.

But, my reader voice encouraged me to open it and give it a chance. Go read the description of the book. Looks fascinating, right? But, should I read a father's memoir about his young daughter's struggle with severe schizophrenia? I received the book, turned it over, read the back and was torn. Then I talked to my BFF, who knows me all too well, and encouraged me to put the book aside and read it later.

I was torn. I was dying to read the story, but it scared the hell out of me. And, ultimately, I decided to skip the book and protect myself. I made a choice as a mom and a reader. I love reading. I treasure books. Being a reader is a big part of who I am, but I allowed my mom voice to speak a little louder to me this time.

One day I'll read this book. But, for now it's going to sit on my bookshelf waiting for me to get through the next seven weeks of pregnancy and those first few emotional weeks of having an infant. Then my reader voice will be heard.

How far would you go to advocate for your child? In January First, father Michael Shofield and his family struggle to find the right treatment for his daughter Jani, who was diagnosed with schizophrenia at six years old. Join From Left to Write on September as we discuss the Shofield's memoir January First. As a member, I received a copy of the book for review purposes.

Lessons From The Dailey Method

I've been going to classes at The Dailey Method for the last few weeks. It's been really great for me. Not only has it given me time for myself, but it's also been a good reminder that pregnant ladies need to get their exercise on.

Here are five things I've learned from working out at The Dailey Method:

1. The Dailey Method (like so many other types of exercise) is a practice... You have to work at it, sometimes you're just a mess and other days you're in the zone. There are hundreds of things that affect you each day, so don't stress if you're not "on." Practicing is a step in the right direction.

2. You look and feel better when you're working out in nice gym clothes. Yes, lululemon and Lucy and Athletica might be a little expensive, but worth getting some good basics. You're going to watch yourself in a mirror, splurge a little and feel good about what you see.

3. Little movements make big differences. Just go to a class and you'll understand.

4. Pregnant women can work out and will feel better if they do. Yeah, sometimes you have to modify an exercise or stop for water more often... But, all in all, even a tough work out - like The Dailey Method - is doable.

5. Mom needs some time. The women who own this location are moms, most of the teachers have been moms. They get it. Remember the failed attempt at keeping the boy's in the kid's room? No one judged me for leaving my kids in there in the first place... Instead, they apologized that I wasn't able to use the hour of time I had carved out for myself. I knew they understood.

I've loved these classes. Loved clearing my head, feeling good afterward, and feeling strong. So, moms, whether it's The Dailey Method or something else, find your outlet.

Full disclosure: I received an unlimited month of classes at The Dailey Method North Shore location. All opinions are my own.

Howie Is Sick, But It's All About Me

Remember our dog, Howie? Yeah, we have a dog. A dog that has dropped far to the bottom of the list. I've written about Howie on occasion. Not enough, clearly. Howie just isn't my thing anymore. He is Matt's responsibility and that's how it should be, because my plate is overflowing. And sometimes I get a little resentful when he gets in the way. Clearly I am not the poster dog parent these days.
The other day I was working from home and on a call when I started to smell... something. I thought to myself, "No way. This dog never has accidents." I investigated and found the source. I'll spare you the details, but let's just say that clean up was not pretty and it was in the worst possible location in the house... The only room with carpeting and right in the middle of where the kids play.

I considered that he might be sick for a split second and then decided that it was must be a behavior thing... And by behavior I mean: he was punishing me personally. I kept him outside for the rest of the day and grumbled to myself about how mad I was, but thankful that I was working from home and the kids weren't here when I found it. I have no idea how our nanny would have handled it had she been here.

The next morning I'm sleeping until I hear Matt come into the bedroom, "Howie did it again. How should I clean this up?" It wasn't even 6 am yet. Good morning!

Anger launched me out of bed and I told him I would take care of it. Scrubbing dog poop out of your carpet is not something I would recommend while seven months pregnant and/or before coffee. I became convinced it was behavioral. Matt had taken Howie out at 3 am and then again before he got in the shower and Howie struck again. Matt's manager and his assistant were out last week, so working from home wasn't an option for him, which meant I had to work from home and continue with Howie duty.

I turned to the vet (who now thinks I'm totally crazy). I described what was going on to her and her response was: colitis. Here is a picture of our conversation:

Me: "Are you sure? Because I kind of think it's behavioral."

Vet: "No, this doesn't seem behavioral. It can be stress-induced, though."

Me: "Yeah, but, he's given every opportunity to go out and he only does it when I'm home."

Vet: "I think it's an urgency issue and you just happen to be home at the wrong times."

Me: "OK, but, he's choosing to do it in the middle of the kid's play area. I feel like he's choosing the worst possible place on purpose."

Vet: "How about we try some treatment and see how it goes. If this continues we can talk more about it."

Me: "So, you're sure this isn't behavioral? It just feels really personal. I mean, he is fine otherwise."

I think the vet wanted to scream: "Hey lady, this isn't about YOU!" But she remained patient and let me get all neurotic and crazy.

And she was right. Now that Howie has been on special food and is taking medication, he's much better and it's clear the poor dog has colitis. Yeah, I'm pretty much a monster. But, here's the thing: My plate is full. I have two kids under three and am almost seven months pregnant. I work full time, have spent the greater part of the last month working on our house each night, just hired a new nanny...  Right now anything that doesn't go according to plan or is an additional thing for me to deal with is beyond what I can handle without it feeling personal.

Sorry, Howie... But, in the back of my mind I still think you were torturing me.

New Nanny, Frustrating Reference

After kind of freaking when our nanny quit last month, I switched gears and put a ton of time into trying to find a replacement. I interviewed seven candidates and instantly felt comfortable with the woman I chose. She is warm, sweet, trusting, smart, and her references were really solid.

So, now we have Nanny C working with us. The transition has been more difficult that I anticipated. W is pushing limits. He isn't listening well and I've caught him taking a surprising tone with her. I know he'll get more comfortable with her in time, but it's hard to see him act this way. It's hard to go to work and just hope he listens. I'm just not feeling confident.

Maybe it has something to do with on a comment that one of her references made that is eating at me... In response to a question I asked about thoughts on Nanny C's ability to take a 4 year old, 18 month old, and infant to a park, the reference responded with something like this: "I think that would be difficult for anyone. Are you sure you're comfortable with someone else doing that with your kids?"

My response was something like: "Well, I don't think I have a choice but to trust someone."

This conversation has played over and over again in my head... It felt judgmental, because really it was none of her business. She wasn't answering my question about Nanny C's capabilities, she was questioning my choices. The whole situation struck me a as strange. I chalked it up to the fact that she was a new mother of a 15 month old and was still getting comfortable having other people watch her son.

Then Nanny C mentioned to me that the other mother she works with (who happened to be said reference) doesn't work. And it pissed me off. Because, seriously, this woman has no idea what I'm facing in hiring a nanny for my (soon-to-be) three children. Her reasons for having a nanny and my reasons are very different. Working moms question their decisions enough, as does everyone else.

A word of advice if you are ever a reference check for a nanny: The referral is for the specific candidate, not whether you think they should hire a nanny or not.

Carving Out Time For Myself

Who starts exercising when they're six months pregnant? That would be me! And I'm getting mad that I didn't focus some time on myself six months ago or a year ago or four years ago for that matter. Coulda, woulda, shoulda, right? But, seriously, you forget how good it feels to have time to exercise and focus your brain on your body and actually feel your muscles and be reminded that your body is capable of more than having kids and then serving as their stomping ground. I mean, that's all pretty amazing, but pushing yourself and then feeling sore muscles for a few days is a good reminder that our bodies have a lot more going on...

My exercise routine for the last four years has been terrible. I have relied on our treadmill or workouts on video. While it's better than nothing, I rarely make it through them, because there are two little people who know what I'm up to and it's hard to not hear them or for the timing of their nap to work out just right. It's annoying and is why I maintain that the only way I will ever be able to get back in shape will be to exercise outside of my house.

I've stuck with my classes at The Dailey Method. I've left the boys at home and found time for classes twice this week (woo hoo!). It's a really good hour for myself. It's not easy. There is a lot of shuffling that goes into finding time between having a full time job and two kids and the things that life continues to throw at you. You never think it will be that hard to find time for yourself until it is and then having time for yourself becomes a distant memory. In this case it's a far, far memory.

I might as well stick with it while I can... Because some October it won't get any easier.

Disclosure: I received a one-month unlimited package to The Dailey Method Kenilworth. All opinions are my own.

The Dailey Method: My Kids Hijacked My Workout

Have you tried The Dailey Method? It's a pretty kick ass work out. I was taking classes for a while when they first opened their North Shore location and then life got in the way and I stopped carving that time out for myself. So, I'm giving it another go.

I scheduled a visit. I signed the boys up for their children's room, because it looks really fun, clean, and W loves new toys. I figured B would follow his brother's lead and it would be fun for both of them.

Excited may not even begin to tell you how I was feeling... This is the first time I have carved out time for myself to work out in a long, long time. And I knew I was in for a really good work out. The staff was terrific, assured me it was a great exercise for pregnant ladies, and were sweet with the boys. I brought them into the play room and they seemed ok. I stepped out and thought I heard some crying. I figured it was B, but that it would subside over time.

The class started. I was just getting into it, feeling good... Until a staff member stepped in and gave me an apologetic wave. "I'm sorry, but they're both really upset and it's not getting any better."

"Both of them?!?" I asked.

"Yes, I think W is upset because B is so upset."

I looked into the room and there were my two boys sobbing and snotty and totally inconsolable. So, I walked in, sat on the ground, and they pounced. I calmed them down, but there was still plenty of jagged breathing as W explained that B needed me and I should stay in there for B. Uh huh.

The woman explained to me that B got really upset when I left, but W was too consumed with the toys to notice, but then he started to get scared as B continued to cry harder and longer... And pretty soon both of them were a mess. She apologized that she wasn't able to fix it and they had to come get me, knowing that it was my limited time for myself. I can't tell you how much I wanted to give her a hug. The fact that she got that instead of assuming I was just dropping them in her lap made me want to kiss her.

I sat with the boys for a while, trying to distance myself to gauge whether there would be an opportunity for me to slip out, but they were onto me. It wasn't happening. Before I knew it, the hour was coming to an end. We'd read a few books, they showed me some cool trucks, I enjoyed a nice conversation with the woman in the kid's room (and kept myself from any of the hugging or kissing that I wanted to share with her), and then I decided it was time to go. I scooped up the boys and we headed home as the class was letting out.

I didn't mind. It was their first drop off experience like this. I never even stopped to think that there would be an issue. That was my fault. B is a mama's boy. He doesn't like when I leave him to go to the next room in our house, let alone in a strange room. W would have been fine, but he is very introspective and emotional, so probably started to freak himself out because of B.

Ok, so I was bummed I only got 15 minutes of class time in, but it's better than nothing! I've already scheduled my next class, but I didn't schedule child care this time. If I do that again it will be for W only and for now I'm going to make it my time in every way I can.

Disclosure: I received a one-month unlimited package to The Dailey Method Kenilworth. All opinions are my own.

We're Sleeping In Separate Rooms

It's been two weeks since Matt and I have slept in the same room. Normally that might be concerning for a married couple and - trust me - I'm concerned... Just not in that way. We've been staying with my parents while our kitchen is being renovated. I'm concerned we will never go home.
What we thought would be a four or five day stay has turned into WEEKS. Since the boys each have their own bed times and routines, they sleep in separate rooms while we're at my parents. Matt sleeps in the room with W and I sleep in the room with B. If you have ever had to share a bed with a three year old before you know it does not make for a restful night, so I feel like I'm actually getting a good deal here.

We see each other for an hour in the morning while we're running around to get ourselves and the boys ready. Matt goes directly to our house after work to refinish our cabinets and usually returns around midnight. I can't help with any of this because of the whole being pregnant thing, but I feel obligated to wait up for Matt and my mom (bless her for helping us!) who wearily walk in and update me on their progress. We talk for about 15 minutes and then say good night. We each go into a room where one of our boys already sleeps, close the door, and will wake up to start it again the next morning.

There is a light at the end of the tunnel, but it's been a long, exhausting, and somehow kind of lonely tunnel. I'm ready to get back to our routine of me complaining that he's too loud for me to sleep and him complaining that I move around too much.

A Working Mom's Worst Nightmare: When Your Beloved Nanny Quits

Three kids seems to be the magic number that makes people get all serious and ask: "What are you going to do?" They seem to look at our life (two parents working full-time and three kids under four) and figure it isn't sustainable or sane.

Up until last week I would look right back at everyone and say, "We'll be fine!"

Then our nanny quit. And now I just don't know.

I haven't written a ton about Nanny K on here. She is amazing and perfect and in the almost year she has been with us I completely fell in love with her and the relationship she developed with my kids. She never once turned on the tv, enforced boundaries, taught W to put on his own shoes, took the boys to museums and the zoo, keeps her cell phone in her purse, makes sure the kids have hats on, packs lunches and finds free parking even when I give her cash... She is everything I never knew I wanted in a nanny. And now she's leaving us. I'm happy for her, because she has a job that she worked really hard to secure, but I'm devastated for us.

When she told us I started crying. My hormones are totally out of control thanks to pregnancy and I hadn't even prepared myself for the possibility that we could lose her before 2013. But, here we are... Starting a search to replace an irreplaceable nanny in just over a week. After she told us last week I sat on the train all teary-eyed and pregnant and starting reaching out to my network. I started to feel confident that I would quickly find someone just as wonderful. Yes, my well-meaning Twitter pals and their positive vibes really made me believe everything would be fine, but my enthusiasm is melting.

I've set up a number of interviews and already met one candidate (big NO) and had another cancel on me. It was when I made my list of interview questions that I realized we are going to have to find someone really, really, extraordinary. This was the question that freaked me out: You'll have to take our oldest to preschool every morning. How will you manage this with a 4 year old, 20 month old, and an infant?

Who is going to be able to do this and - beyond that - who can give me an answer that will convince me that they can handle this? Because I'm having trouble figuring out how it's going to work.

This is the absolute worst part of being a working mom. I know we'll work it out deep down inside. But, in the mean time, I'm kinda freaking out.

Gender Bender: Should We Find Out?

For those of you who (like me) cannot read an ultrasound... this is the profile.

Today was our 20 week appointment. We decided not find out the gender and let it be a surprise when the baby comes in October. And I've been ok with that decision... until this morning. Suddenly the 20 weeks ahead of me loomed. I know how fast the pregnancy time flies, especially after your first pregnancy. But, do I want to wait 20 more weeks? I'm just not sure.
I've gone back and forth all day and here's the deal: I want to know if it's a girl. I don't want to know if it's a boy.

Now, before you judge and start with the "all babies are wonderful" stuff please give me a chance to explain. I don't really care what I'm having. I love having boys and I know I'm a good mom for boys. They've broken me in and I appreciate boys for their dirt and craziness and energy and bug-loving selves. We know boys and we have all the stuff. Boys make sense to us.

I look at little girls and, though I know my days might be more mellow, I can't imagine having to fasten hair bows and puts on tights. I'm not into accessories or pink or bows. I know that all girls aren't into these things, but I just can't imagine having to be. But, yes, there is a part of me that really wants a girl for all the obvious reasons. I won't go into all of them since you can list them as well as I can. And W has said he wanted a sister since the day we told him he would be a big brother again.

But, here is the real reason... Ever since I became noticeably pregnant people seem to be rooting for me to have a girl. My grandmother told me that she is praying for me... Really?!?! (Pray for people who can't feel their children or are facing sickness. Don't pray for a baby's gender that has already been decided.) Strangers seem to really be concerned that it might be another boy.

When I was pregnant with B and told people it was a boy 90% of the time I received this response: "Oh, you'll have to go for #3 to get your girl." And I even said it to Matt when we realized it was a boy. I'm not immune to that reaction. But, I don't need to spend the next 20 weeks trying to convince strangers in line at the grocery store that I'm just fine having three boys.

And, yes, I know I can find out and not tell anyone, but that would be really hard for me. Have you ever seen me try to lie? I struggle to cover a sly smile and practically burst out laughing.

So, what did we decide? We didn't find out... for now. But, we're keeping our options open and if we want to find out, we can. And that's enough for now. It's not always information that I need, it's access to information that's most important. And a healthy baby... boy or girl.

L'Occitane's Angelica Instant Hydration Mask Works With My Easy Skin Routine

I am all about easy when it comes to just about everything, especially my beauty routines. If it's not fast and simple, I just can't be bothered. I wash my face and put on moisturizer. But, when I had the opportunity to take part in the campaign for the L'OCCITANE Angelica Instant Hydration Mask, I was willing to add a few minutes to my routine. And that's all it took. 3 minutes.
I haven't done a mask in about 20 years. And when I think of them I think of the crazy colored, strong scented, turn into cement masks that my friends and I experimented with at junior high sleepovers... Yuck, right? But this mask is totally, totally different.

Here is my little vlog telling you all about it. (Note: The boys were sleeping in close proximity to our bathroom, which might explain what comes across as low energy...)


See other videos on the L'OCCITANE Facebook page here. Disclosure: I received a tube of L'OCCITANE Angelica Hydration Mask for review and a basket of L'OCCITANE products for my time. All opinions are my own.

Bump Club And Beyond: Best Resources For All Moms and Moms-To-Be

When you have your first child you research products to find what's safest and has the highest ratings, labor over decisions about what will be best, and get a ton of stuff. Then as you continue to add children you kind of stick with what you have and worked the first time.

I've realized this to be especially true lately as my friends who have their first babies have asked me whether I have used a specific product and I realize I haven't even seen it before. It's not that you give up on getting the best for your kids... You just have your stuff and your way of doing things and stick with it. I definitely did this with B and know it will be harder to justify buying stuff for what I'm pretty sure will be our last little addition to the family. But looking at new baby products is fun and just because I have a ton of stuff doesn't mean I shouldn't educate myself and stay hip with the trends. Right?

So, that being said, I'll be at The Best of Bump Club and Beyond: A Day Filled With the Best Resources For All Moms and Moms-To-Be on Sunday, June 3rd at the Peggy Notebaert Nature Museum. I'll be checking out the latest in baby gear, have the opportunity to attend sessions on stuff like feeding and sleeping, and an overstuffed gift bag. I'm especially excited about the seminars on healthy feeding and when to transition a toddler to a big bed (because it's going to happen a lot sooner with B than it did with W).

All tickets include lunch from Protein Bar, afternoon snacks from Sprinkles, KIND and the chance to win $15,000+ in giveaways including strollers, high chairs, crib mattresses, bedding, and more. Galt Baby will also be on site with a special pop-up shop selling all of the products exhibited at the event and offering special discounts. It will be a good opportunity for me to check out some new products, get a little refresher on hot subjects, and enjoy something to eat without two little guys trying to steal a bite.

And since it's a weekend and I hate being away for too long, Matt is going to take the boys to the Lincoln Park Zoo (which is practically next door) while mom does some mom stuff.

Will I see you there?

Disclosure: I received one complimentary ticket to The Best of Bump Club and Beyond. All views in this post are my own.

Yes, I'm Pregnant and Had My Appendix Removed

As you may know I had my appendix removed three weeks ago. What most people didn't know at the time was that I was pregnant. Of course I knew this and my doctors knew this, but I hadn't made it Facebook official or anything... So when I did reveal that I was, in fact, 15 weeks pregnant I received a lot of surprised reactions. So, allow me to take a few minutes to clear the air with some FAQ's.


Were you scared that there was something wrong with the baby?
I woke up in the middle of the night feeling very nauseous and had a terrible stomach ache. I spent a few hours throwing up and being miserable and then wallowed in pain for a while... And the question I get the most has been whether I was scared that something was wrong with the baby. Here is the answer: I wasn't concerned that it was something related to being a pregnant lady. Never.

How did you know it was appendicitis?
My mom showed up to take care of the boys when Matt was leaving for work. I called her into my room where I was wallowing and told her I had the most painful stomach ache ever and I couldn't move. My dad and sister had both had their appendix removed and she very clearly pointed out that I had appendicitis and had to go to the hospital.

It should be mentioned that I also had appendicitis once before (about five years ago), but it was not nearly as bad as this time. It was a crazy busy time at work (like 80 hour work weeks) and I didn't feel like I could take time off, so I convinced my doctors to give me antibiotics and watch me over night. If they re-tested me in the morning and tests were still the same, my appendix could go. And guess who beat appendicitis? Me. But, guess who learned that you can never truly beat appendicitis? This girl.

Were you scared to have surgery?
Not really. First off, I knew what I was in for... I took a shower, dried my hair, and asked my mom to pack my laptop. I knew when I was leaving the house that I would not be coming back for a while. I walked into the ER and told them I had appendicitis. I was prepared. And, seriously, it wasn't as if I had a choice. It had to come out.

I'm also a big believer in trusting that if something happens, it's meant to. This control freak accepted that the entire situation was out of my hands. I also do not allow my mind to go to scared places, which helps. But, when I was on the operating table and moment I let myself think about the boys (in a "what if I don't wake up?" kind of way) for a moment, which I very purposefully did right as they were putting me under. I had my second to freak out and then was happily asleep. This is not a coincidence.

How did it go?
It went pretty well. I had my 16 week appointment and the baby's heart rate sounded good. I have my 20 week appointment next week, which I'm excited about.

Recovery has sucked ass. I've been tired beyond what I thought possible and am still experiencing a considerable amount of discomfort. I went to see my doctor for my follow up and he said it's nerve damage. I'm basically only comfortable when sitting in a reclined position or while standing. Bending over and doing anything that puts stress on my core muscles is kind of like being stabbed by a burning knife. Matt made me laugh so hard twice this weekend while we were driving, which quickly turned into tears and me demanding that he pulled over, so I could stand up. I cannot begin to describe the feeling, just that it's intense, deep, raw, and feels totally overwhelming. My doctor said it can last up to two months. Then I made the mistake of googling, which is never a good idea, so now I'm a little freaked about how long this is going to last.

So, there you have it... My FAQ's of having an appendix removed when pregnant. Did I answer your question? If not, leave it and I will (well, if it's appropriate...).

Good Deeds 2012: Week 20 Paid Maternity Leave For All U.S. Women

Good Deed: Signed the change.org petition to encourage Congress to ensure paid maternity leave for all women. 

Most of my friends haven't been able to take a paid maternity leave. I receive six weeks fully paid and then use vacation, sick, and personal time to make up the additional six weeks. Compared to most people, this is generous. (Matt doesn't receive a single day of paid paternity leave, might I add.)

Many people rely on Family Medical Leave Act (FMLA) to just ensure they can take 12 weeks off and still have a job, but this doesn't guarantee any pay. I used to think that everyone was covered by FMLA, but that's not the case... There are tons of loop holes. Many women face losing their jobs for wanting to take time off after they have their baby.

Compared to just about every other country, the U.S. does not value working families or protect and and/or provide for working mothers. It's true. And it's terrible. Do yourself a favor and read this blog post. It's worth EVERY word. It's well written, personal, packed with information, and totally awesome. Just read it.

Then sign the petition.

What was your good deed this week?

Happy Mother's Day Times... THREE

Today was my fourth Mother's Day and it was gorgeous. We didn't get to do a ton of fun stuff because recovery from my appendectomy has been more difficult lately and I was really sore today. I've probably been pushing myself too much, but it's hard not to when you have two kids and a full-time job.

Anyway... I had a great time with Matt and the boys. And what made today even more amazing... Not only am I a mom of two awesome boys, but come late October I'll be a mom to THREE. Yes, I am 16 weeks pregnant. Things are about to get a lot more crazy around here!

So, while he's still our baby, here's a photo of B looking all sweet for you to gush over...