April Was a Rough Long Month, Part I

It's really hard to believe that last year today, Chase and I were on our first trip to Thailand together. I couldn't sleep last night and was looking through the videos and pictures from our trip along with the other 5,000 or so that was on the computer. It was such a trip down memory lane for me. Her tiny, round body with sweet baby rolls all over. Those two bottom teeth that I never thought would show up. How she used to call herself "Che, Baby." I can't believe it's only been two years since she came into our lives. On April 25th, my darling baby turned 2, thus officially surrendering the "infant" status forever and now requires her own seat on an airplane. I'd been whispering into her ears for days that her birthday was coming up and never managed to not tear up a little. Her last birthday as an only child. Maybe the last birthday that she would say something as adorable as "Ma buy Chase a crane?" when I asked what she wanted for her birthday (more later on the crane). As I lay pathetically on the couch this past month, I often question my decision to get pregnant again. Didn't I know that this pregnancy would suck (remember the last time?!?)? Was our party of five not enough already? Didn't Chase deserve our love and undivided attention? Wil was more than happy with our perfect little human, whom, according to her father, broke the mold when she came into the world. How will I be able to teach her to read before the age of three when I have another baby permanently attach to my chest? Then Chase came out of her room, her arms full of dolls and stuffed animals. One by one, she gently guided them down her little slide and said "I got you!" I knew then that our second, and LAST, baby was a gift to us all. To teach me about more patience, love, and better time management. To be adored by the best father in the world and give him the kind of family he dreamed about as a child. But most of all, this is Chase's baby. When I'm on my death bed and look back on this time, I will know that it was the right decision to give my children each other to love, care for, and shoulder life's unexpected challenges together. Or that's what I will tell myself when I threat to ship them off to military school if they don't stop pushing each other down the stairs or clawing each other's eyes out again.

Even though I'm mostly at peace with the pregnancy, it's still bothering me a little that I don't yet feel a strong connection with this human parasite that is sucking the life out of me. I thought I felt a kick last week, which was probably more like gas, but I didn't get really excited about it. I'm trying to tell myself that it's because of the exhaustion and nausea and not for the lack of love or enthusiasm. I know it will come. Trust me, Baby, I won't short-change you of motherly smothering. Clearly, spending too much time on the couch this past month has not been good for my mental state.

Goal for May: puke less, sit upright and shower more often, embrace comfy maternity wear, and blog more--with pictures (you're welcome, Mom). I will attempt to catch you up on our lives in Part II of the very long April. See you soon, Peeps.

Nurse Chase

I have been feeling rotten lately. Most of the time, this ill-named morning sickness just makes me feel like I'm having the worst motion sickness all day even though I'm laying perfectly still on the couch holding my head in my hands mumbling some questionable language for a nearly-2-year-old to hear. Since last Friday I have hardly left my couch, and I think my darling baby is beginning to think that's where I belong because whenever I tried to walk around the house today, she would grab my hand and order "ma, couch!" Wil has pretty much taken over the care of Chase as soon as he steps his foot inside. Bless this very kind and patient man. I couldn't have chosen a better person to share my life and children with.

It was high time for self-pity, but Chase made sure our day was the best it could be. After ordering me to stay reclined, she would climb in next to me, attempt to put a cover over both of us, and snuggle up her little body to mine. What followed belongs in Sweet Baby Hall of Fame.

Chase: Snug bug! (snug as a bug). Papa taught it! (whenever she says that while I tuck her in, I always amusingly ask where she learn that and she would proudly tell me that her father taught her.)
Me, sniffling now: Thank you, Baby.
Chase, petting my leg: Ma feel better?
Me: Yes, Baby, you make me feel so much better already.

After a few more minutes of cuddling and Nemo, she would look at me and ask:

Chase: Momma sick?
Me: I don't feel very good. My tummy is not happy.
Chase: Chase sick?
Me: No, Baby. You are thankfully very healthy.
Chase, with both arms raised in exuberant joy: Chase healtfy!

We went on to have a conversation about what was going on and at one point she seemed satisfied with my explanation about the baby in momma's tummy. She petted my stomach and kissed it before looking at me and ask "Chase in momma's tummy?" before curling up on top of me for a few more minutes of uncomfortable snuggling.

By the time Wil came home, she had a full report for him in between pasta bites during dinner:

Chase: Momma tummy hurting. Baby in momma's tummy.
Wil: Yes! Momma is not feeling very good, but she will be ok.
Chase: Momma tummy hurting. Ma feel better. Chase healtfy!

How I love this child.

Oh, Dear...

Whenever Chase is trying to concentrate on something, sometimes I can hear her mumble to herself, "dear, dear, dear." I think it's about one of the cutest things she ever does, and I found myself mumbling an explicit version of this while trying to get dressed this afternoon (yes, I was getting dressed at 3 p.m.--don't judge).

I use the word "trying" because it was.

I'm supposedly about 6 weeks along but I feel about 12 and look about 16. Something happened last night that caused all my shirts and pants to shrink in the closet. Even Wil noticed it when he came home today. I swear I did not pig out and had a huge feast for the past 24 hours; in fact, it's been quite the opposite as I am already experiencing a moderate wave of morning sickness. I'm thinking that with my already separated stomach that never recovered from the last go round, there's really no muscle to hold down a growing baby pod? Sure I'm a bit pudgier than a few years ago, but I certainly did not have a beer gut until this morning. I was mentally prepared to be in full maternity battle gear as soon as the pregnant week hits double digit, but judging from the 2-minute struggle to button my pants and the following minute it took me to realize that there was no way I could pick up the baby AND breathe while wearing my favorite trouser jeans, I have a feeling that I'll be digging out from the basement my favorite Old Navy maternity jeans by this time tomorrow.

After this baby factory is closed, I'm going to get one of those surgery that will stitch back my stomach muscles together, but not until I have used it enough time to guilt my children with it. So very happy now that the vanity in me made me take lots of pictures of my skinny self with a flat 4-pack abs in bikinis. Have I made you feel all icky yet? Just in time to say good night! Wish me luck tomorrow so that I won't throw up on the Italian Visa person.

Or So It Appears

First of all, I blame my friend Becky for loaning me her cute baby to play with for a day. It was just long enough for me to be utterly enamored with his chubby little rolls, his baby cooing, and constant want to curl up his soft little body in my arms. Even when both Chase and Eli were crying at the same time for my attention, I laughed out loud and thought to myself that it was most definitely doable. STAY CLEAR FROM CUTE BABIES!!! THEY WILL DISTORT YOUR SOUND JUDGMENT!!!

Ok, the following paragraph will contain far too much information for some of you, but if you want to feel uncomfortably close to me, hang tight.

So here we are. I always pride myself in knowing exactly what's going on inside of my body. Apparently not this time. I completely dismissed the late (or rather, never) arrival of my certain monthly visitor with the whole wisdom teeth removal and the subsequent infection and rounds of antibiotics. I was exhausted, yes, but wasn't every parent who had to go it alone? Wil was out of town for most of this month and I just thought this drag on my body was just an accumulated result of everything that had been going on + an active 23 month old. We were on the second month of trying but thought his being out of town during most of the "window" pretty much null the effort (haha, I hope you are enjoying all the euphemism I'm coming up with instead of saying "we had sex." Yes, Dad, we slipped pass holding hands. Please don't kill the father of my two children) and was going to put a pause on our family building progress anyway since pcsing is looming large at the very end of the year or the very beginning of the next. Whad'Ya Know?!? I don't have a firm due date from an OB, whom I won't get to see probably for another 6 weeks, but according to Professor Google, I'm due anywhere around 19-24 of November. Just a month to get the baby's birth certificate, passport, and Social Security card before packing up our lives and move it across the ocean. I'm totally blocking out the whole being homeless and having to find a temp shelter while house-hunting, find somewhere to board my two big boys, and live in the said shelter with an almost 3-year-old and a newborn while my husband is too busy with his new job and will soon be sent to school for 6-weeks. And my car will still be on a big boat somewhere in the middle of the Atlantic ocean when all this happens. Yep, putting all that in a lock box and am not going to panic about it until it's time to panic about it. Panicking takes extra energy and if I got that I would be using it to nap right now.

I hate to jinx myself, but I feel surprisingly good besides the overwhelming exhaustion that comes right after I open my eyes in the morning. No morning sickness yet and no sciatica. I know I'm still way early (about 6 weeks), but it was around this time while carrying Chase that I started upchucking and upchucking I kept for the next 8 months. At about 8 weeks I started falling everywhere because of sciatica that kept me on the couch for most of the pregnancy. I saw my family practice doctor yesterday and told him about my past experience. He seemed hopeful that my joints were already loosen enough from the last go round that things would not be too painful this time. I have the glorious German spring, summer, and early fall weather on my side, and hopefully we'll be able to see much more of this beautiful country and the rest of Europe on our feet and bikes before heading back to the Motherland. I find it hilarious that I, a Thai citizen who's been living in America for half of my life, will be bringing two American children back to their country that they have never lived in before. Ok, I think that was the first time I actually acknowledged out loud that I was going to be a mother to two little people. How weird! Time to find a nanny. Mom? Grandma?

Now I'm going to have material to bitch, er, write about on the blog besides posting cute pictures of my soon-to-be Big Kid, who is still every bit of my heart. Yesterday while I was getting my blood pressure taken at the doctor's office, Chase started to get this grave concern on her face. She kept asking "Ma ok?" I assured her that it didn't hurt and I was fine. She kept saying "Ma ok, Ma fine" while petting my leg. I didn't realize until later that the only time she ever came across the blood pressure machine was during Wil's multiple hospital stay and I'm sure it brought back a lot of unpleasant memories. My heart breaks a little when I think of what she has gone through in her short life and what she has yet to conquer. I recently came across this post from CJane and was comforted by the fact that I wasn't the only mom who felt this way. Not that I won't love the new baby or that I am not excited about his/her arrival, but for now I want to lavish all my love and attention on my still only child. And the soon-to-be-neglected Husband. And the boys, who will be pegged down even lower on the totem pole. Poor things. But we're happy, happy, happy! And if I had the extra energy, I would be jumping and twirling, but you know what I said about the energy. Still happy, nonetheless :).

Here we go AGAIN!!!

For those of you who we have not yet talked to, it is official as of Uma's appointment this morning, Chase will be a big sister in about 9 months. Thats right we're pregnant and Uma is already looking at pregnancy pants and getting excited about the comfort wear. I hope all is well with everybody and Im sure she will post more later.

Pictures for Kun Yai, Again

Mom, I totally missed a very well-deserved nap for this.

And since I haven't learned how to combine pictures from two separate FB folders, you get another slide show. Isn't this your lucky day?!?

Back Soon...?

You know things are bad when my poor husband excitedly proclaimed "you cooked a great dinner and bought me Coke! Now I know you REALLY love me!" Toddlerhood is rough on momma's time management and I'm struggling to fit cooking, doing laundry, and grocery shopping around Miss Chase's standing play dates and fun things. Let's not even talk about picking up around the house. If I should wake up one day and find this place looking like Toomer's corner after a good football game (you non-Auburn folks will just have to look that up and learn a little about our kind of celebration), more than likely I would just shrug it off and ignore it along with all the other mess in the house. How does a 21-month-old's social calendar becomes so much more vibrant than mine when I was in college? Well, the sun is out and the snow is melting. Me thinks it's time to take the pups out for a walk before they start to lose muscle mass. More soon...hopefully.