Monday, August 27, 2012

Type A

Let's talk about me for a change.

I'm a bit of a type A personality. (My blood type is also A, but that's irrelevant to this post.) Don't know much about the Type A/Type B personality theory? Look it up on Wikipedia. The Wikipedia article says something about Type A people being "obsessed with time management." That's me to a T.   
Or should I say, that's me to an A.

This isn't a new thing. My mom recently recalled my neurotic, high-strung behavior as a child. Apparently, when given several days or weeks to complete a school project, I'd come home stressed about it and get the assignment done the next day. (I don't remember this, but I believe my mom.) I do know that the very first entry in my childhood diary says, essentially, that my pediatrician prescribed journal writing for me as an outlet so that maybe I wouldn't worry so much. I also know that my college roommate called me The Camp Director because I organized our friends' activities and cracked the whip a lot.

I think I do an okay job of balancing my rigid type-A neurosis with a more laid-back attitude, once the chores are done and everyone is fed. For example, I enjoy taking a different route to get to the same old place, even if it takes longer. I enjoy the impromptu stop at the park, or ice cream parlor, or friend's house along the way. I let my girl get dirty, make her own choices, and make messes. However, when it's lunch time, we need to eat. When it's nap time, we need to sleep. When I have to meet the needs of three cats, a dog, a toddler, and a newborn, as well as clean up after dinner, take out the trash, and shower before I get to go to sleep at night, my rigid Type A behavior goes into overdrive.

This part of my personality doesn't really bother me, but my husband can't stand it. Apparently I'm no fun because I'm not impulsive and don't really love surprises. He can't whisk our family away for the day without telling me exactly where we're going and what we're doing so that I can bring the proper supplies, clothing, food, etc. We don't go on dates very often because Emma goes to bed early and I don't know how she'd do with a random babysitter putting her to bed at night, and I can't always ask my mom to babysit. My poor Barry has to put up with me for the rest of forever.

Anyhow, I'm a control freak.

And now you know.

Tuesday, August 21, 2012

Here We Are Together...

...Listening to children's songs. Again.

I'm not finding much time to blog. Gee, I wonder why.

While I have a moment, let me update you on a few of the things going on around here.

We call Liam our Sleepy Beepy. He's wonderful and sleeping during the day and the night, thank goodness. The only problem we've encountered is that he wants bedtime to be a little later than Barry and I prefer.

I have learned that diapering little boys must include an extra step. I need to remember to point his little peepee downwards in the diaper, otherwise we get a lot of pee pee all over his back and bed while he's sleeping. This was, obviously, never an issue with my daughter.

Emma is dealing with the adjustments of a new baby brother rather well, but she is having her two-year-old melt downs a little more frequently than normal. That wouldn't be such a big deal if her parents weren't extra tired and therefore less patient than normal. Oh well. We're surviving.

We bought a minivan, or as Emma calls it, "A Vini Man!" I'm so excited to have a bigger vehicle! Now I will be able to leave the house when I'm babysitting instead of being trapped at home three days a week.

My recovery is going really well. My guts don't feel like they're going to rip open when I sneeze anymore and I can actually use my abs when I get out of bed or off the couch. Yay!

I need to go. Morning chores are being neglected and my girl is looking for attention...

Monday, August 6, 2012

Liam's Grand Entry

Well, folks, I have two kids now. Let me tell you how it happened...

On Wednesday we went to the hospital at 7A.M. so I could change into my lovely gown and go through a bunch of pre-surgery things, like answer questions, get an I.V., and wait. Then we waited some more. Apparently a lady who was trying a VBAC had her uterus rupture, so she got an emergency c-section and I had to wait a little longer. Ouchy.

Then my scheduled doctor got pulled away to the E.R., so I had to wait a little longer still for a different surgeon. That turned out to be fine, because the new guy was AWESOME. The doctors and nurses were accommodating and did things just a little differently than usual to avoid aggravating my itchy adhesive allergy. Everyone was super nice.

I got my spinal, became numb to all pain and heat from my chest down, and we were ready for surgery. Everything felt surreal, I didn't feel like I was about to have a baby and I wasn't really sure if I wanted to have another baby. What had we been thinking?!?! Was it too late to change my mind?

Obviously, we proceeded in spite of my sudden doubts, and I'm glad we did.
"I'm having a c-section RIGHT now!"

Surgery went beautifully from start to finish.

When Liam was delivered, he had some fluid in his lungs. That's not unusual with c-section babies because they don't go through the squeezing pressure that regularly delivered babies experience. With Emma I was terrified about this, but she only had a small amount of fluid in her lungs and coughed it out instantly. This time I didn't worry about it at all, so of course it caused a problem.

My newest love
Liam had a difficult time clearing all of the amniotic fluid from his lungs. We waited and watched. The nurse gave him additional air to breathe through an oxygen mask that would keep his airways open, and we waited. However, he just couldn't manage to clear his lungs.

I was lying on the surgery table, staring straight ahead, (because craning my neck to look at my baby made me nauseous) and praying. The nurse working with Liam said that they were probably going to take him to the NICU to continue with the air flow and do chest X-rays. I started praying harder. Then I had a sudden knowledge that Barry needed to give Liam a blessing*. He put his hand on little Liam's head, closed his eyes, and said a silent blessing while I prayed silently across the room.

A few minutes later the nurses said that Liam seemed much better and wouldn't have to go to the NICU after all. Thank Heaven.

They stitched me up and sent me off to recovery. Barry and Liam headed over to the Well Baby Nursery for a little bath and warming up time. An hour passed and I was getting a little anxious because I still hadn't held my boy, but my room was ready so they took my there to wait.

FINALLY, two hours after he was born, I got to hold my baby for the first time. He nursed like a champ and is all around an awesome guy.

Recovery went really well for me, way easier and less painful than after Emma was born. We came home from the hospital on Friday afternoon and life has been nice. I've never really been a fan of newborns, (they're so needy) but this little man is changing my outlook. He's mellow, sleepy, and so extremely cute. I think I'm a little more mellow this time around too. His crying doesn't stress me out, I'm not flipping out at the fact that he's lost a "bunch" of weight, and sleep-deprivation is already a way of life for me. I've been here and done this before.

Emma and "her" baby.
I love having two kids. Emma adores her little brother and has adjusted beautifully to him being around. When she visited in the hospital her first words were, "Mommy, can I hold my baby?" She isn't bothered by his crying and he isn't bothered by her screams, squeals, and general craziness. Life is good.

*We're members of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints and believe that worthy men can hold priesthood power that enables them to bless the lives of others in a way that Christ would bless others were he walking the earth today.