Here we go again!

The difference between Liam's birth and Declan's birth is like night and day. Don't get me wrong, Liam's birth was textbook perfect as far as a birth goes, and I was able to deliver him completely drug free like I wanted. But something was missing. I had a midwife instead of an OB, but the midwife was within an OB practice and a bit more medically focused than I would like for a process that, to me, is perfectly normal and doesn't require medical intervention in most cases. I wanted a home birth or at least to deliver in a birth center, but all the birth centers in AZ had been shut down due to politics, and our insurance at the time ruled out a homebirth. So hospital it was, and I put all my faith into my midwife to let me have the birth I wanted to have.

She let me down. Liam was healthy and the whole process went seamlessly, so I am grateful for that. But I still felt like an experience had been stolen from me, and that I had failed in some way because I ended up being held down on a bed while pushing for over an hour, despite me telling them in advance I didn't want to deliver on my back (hello, who wants to fight gravity??). My body felt broken afterwards. I was exhausted. I was bullied 24/7 by the nurses after I delivered, trying to convince me to give Liam formula because it was "easier". Trying to convince me to let the pediatrician circumcise him even though we had chosen not to. Making me feel like everything I *knew* was so right, was actually so wrong. I left that hospital feeling defeated and tired instead of pumped and elated. When we decided it was time to add another hellion to the family back in December, I was determined things would be different as soon as I got those two pink lines on the stick.

I found a birth center just across the border in SC, and immediately fell in love with my midwife. The entire pregnancy was perfect aside from some of the standard puking the first few months. We didn't find out the gender purposely; we decided it would be more fun to wonder and to have that surprise to look forward to. 2 weeks before my due date I got a phone call from my midwife. The birth center was temporarily shut down and I was not going to be able to deliver there. So here I was, about to give birth at any time and completely back at square one.

After feeling sorry for myself for a few days, I thought to myself, screw this shit. I'm going balls to the wall and doing what I wanted to do this whole time. This kid is being born at home. No more drama, no more fighting for something that should happen naturally. I'm a healthy low risk woman with a healthy baby. We're gonna do this.

I worked Thursday and Friday and damn, I worked. Our floor had been getting increasingly nutty by the week and two straight days of running around, not sitting, and doing heavy lifting wore me out. Saturday morning, September 14th, I woke up feeling kind of crampy. I chalked it up to working the last two days and maybe overdoing it. My due date was still 2 weeks away. I got up, got breakfast and sat around. The random crampiness didn't go away. In fact, it was getting more noticeable. It didn't really hurt, and I can't really describe it other than weird. I know that sounds stupid since I'd been through the labor process before, but with Liam I had no signs of anything and my water sporadically busted on the couch, followed by Mack truck contractions that didn't stop till he came out. This was nothing like that, so I thought nothing of it. I decide to take Liam to the park. We hung out for a few hours and the tightening/cramping continued. I had a couple people ask me when I was due and I was tempted to be like, "well maybe right now but I'm not sure". I texted my mom, who was with my dad camping about an hour away. I didn't want them to come back for nothing and me feel bad, but I kind of wanted to give her a heads up. On the drive home, they started getting closer together. I put Liam down for a nap around 1:30. Ate lunch, paid some bills. Liam woke up around 4 and the cramping was actually getting to a point where I had to stop what I was doing and shut my eyes. I texted the midwife:

4:45pm: "I'm having a lot of cramping, but it's sporadic so I don't know..probably false labor…"

5:22pm: "Nevermind, this shit is real"

She arrived and they were pretty intense...Liam was laughing and copying me as I moaned and swayed back and forth while leaning over whatever was near me as I paced upstairs (washer, banister, bed). Shaun texted my mom to tell her they better pack up. I told him to tell them not to rush, I figured I had at least another 5-6 hours. We joked around and played with Liam in the playroom, then when I had a contraction I would bury my face in the futon and she would quietly take notes in the corner. Every once and awhile she would check the baby's heart rate with the Doppler. Two other midwives arrived around then, and Liam was in heaven having all these people playing trains with him. Shaun went downstairs and cleaned the kitchen...guess he figured with the amount of work I was doing at the moment the least he could do was the dishes. Haha. After awhile they asked if I wanted to get in the tub. For some reason it hadn't even occurred to me even though my plan the whole pregnancy was to have a waterbirth. Into the tub I went. Liam at this point had apparently breezed through med school and had taken upon himself to be the resident OB. He stripped off his shirt and sang Spiderman songs to me while pouring water on my back during contractions. He did the Doppler (correctly!) for the midwives. He made fun of my quiet moans. The whole thing wasn't scary to him at all...I had prepared for one of the midwives and Shaun to keep him downstairs but apparently that was all for nothing.

Within about 10 minutes I was getting way too hot and both my and the baby's heart rate were jumping up. I got out and tried to cool down. I sat on the big yoga ball next to my bed and watched Liam do gymnastics on the mattress. I remember thinking to myself during a contraction that I had hours more of this so I hoped I could keep my current calm state of mind and sense of humor. Right about then I decided I had to go to the bathroom. I said it out loud and started to get up to walk to the toilet. The midwife said, "No. Come over here and grip the footboard and pop a squat for me on the floor". I looked at her like she was nuts. Um, no, I am not pooping on the floor in front of people. I said as much, and I got the look of death, lol. She convinced me to just try to attempt the position for her and she promised I wouldn't go to the bathroom on the floor. I was annoyed but did as she said.

Suddenly the urge was so unbelievably overwhelming that I wanted desperately to run to the bathroom but I was literally frozen in place. My body began to attempt to push on it's own, and I remember yelling out loud that I was "puking in reverse". Everyone laughed but I was about ready to cry, mortified that I was going to poop in front of everyone. Then the floodgates opened and my water literally exploded all over the floor. I felt like a deflated balloon. Suddenly I felt this god awful burning and before I could register what it was, Liam leaped out of Shaun's arms yelling, "My baby!! Wook!! It's my baby!! I'm a big brother now mama!!!". Then I felt this immense sensation of pressure relief and I looked down to see a face peering up at me. The midwife was fending off Liam, who was trying to get to the baby, and Shaun was just standing there with a look of shock. Holy shit. I just had a baby. And all I had wanted to do was go to the bathroom.

His cord was short so I couldn't lift him up to my chest till the placenta came out. When it did, I began to bleed quite a bit due to the short cord getting yanked at some point and tearing the placenta away from the uterine wall, causing a bit of hemorrhage. The midwife gave me some Cytotec and the bleeding let up immediately (and caused horrible god awful contractions but they were necessary to stop the bleeding). Liam cut the cord with some help from Shaun and we finally noticed we had another boy.

I took a quick shower and parked myself in bed with new baby.

At that point my parents arrived. Sorry guys, too late. By 15 minutes! The midwife had arrived at 5:30pm, and he was out at 7:19pm. He was weighed (7lbs 5oz), measured (20 in), and examined.

Shaun won the name battle and Declan received his name. We all hung out for another 4 hours (midwives wanted to make sure I didn't bleed again), ate fish tacos Shaun and my dad whipped up, and went to bed. The next day we woke up like any other day. It was perfect and comfortable and easier than I ever could have asked for. I was so comfortable in my own space that I didn't even realize I was in labor till it was almost over. What more could you ask for?

And that's the story of Declan's journey Earthside.

Pink Rubber Home Depot Frog

Product: See title.

Manufacturer: I don't know but it might as well have been Jesus himself.

Uses: Everything.

Liam found this gem on the floor of Home Depot when I was picking up some mulch. It is a very very soft rubbery pink frog about the size of a quarter that was laying in a puddle of filthy water, just waiting for some grubby small hands to snatch it up while an adult voice echoes in the background, "Noooooo! Get out of that water!!!!".

At first glance it seems to be another piece of crap that will end up on the floor of your car, in that awkward space between the counter and the fridge, or clogging up your vacuum. But no my friends. Don't judge. This small frog will make your day about as smooth as it can be with a spirited, stubborn, and determined toddler. This frog can be rolled between fingers, causing your child to actually SIT IN A CHAIR while eating breakfast. It can be used as a bribe to get on the potty and pee before leaving the house. When dangled along the driveway, it can be used to lure the child in a *gasp* timely fashion to the car. While in the car, the sunlight shining in from the window makes sparkly reflections off it's pearlescent back and onto the vehicle seat, distracting the child from kicking on the 5 minute drive to Target. While in Target, the frog fits perfectly in the fingers of the child, and hops from pack of toilet paper to pack of toilet paper, then along the wall, all throughout the store. Being so small and rubbery, it's limbs can get caught on the metal shelving, causing a leg to rip off. Instead of tears, this causes a whole new interest of trying to do toddler "surgery" to get it back on, all while riding quietly in the cart. Once back in the car, now the body and the severed limb make not one but TWO shiny spots!! At home, it can be placed on the very top of a dresser, and used to bribe the child into a nap with the promise of burying it in the sand at the park later. It also works as a bribe to take a bath, get jammies on, and get in bed because it has magically developed the ability to speak (but isn't it weird that mama's lips are moving too?). This frog trumps every $50 toy your child will ever own.

Folks, this is a quarter sized pink rubber bribe. For free. Aside from the potential biohazard of the puddle it was originally found in, and the fact that it's conveniently the size of a child's windpipe....but hey, we all have to take risks for our sanity, right?

Next time you're at Home Depot, check all the puddles that look like sewage. And if you're not quite ready to commit but may be interested in just a pink rubber frog leg, it's somewhere in the sandbox in Mint Hill, NC.

The Great Escape

Well, it finally happened. The moment I've been dreading for 2.5 years. I'm actually watching it unfold for the millionth time over the baby monitor as I type this.

He learned to climb out of his crib.

It just happened out of the blue one morning. I woke up around 8 (Liam usually wakes up between 8 and 8:30) and went out to the living room. His bedroom door was closed like it always is when he sleeps, so I didn't think a thing of it. I entered the living room and had a cross between a heart attack and a reflex to kick some arse, because some man was sitting on our couch.

Except that man was 37 inches tall, wearing firetruck pajamas, and playing some cop game on the iPad, totally ignoring me.

With no prior practice or warning, he had climbed out of his bed, shut the door behind him and gone out to play games by himself. That afternoon he climbed out of his crib 4 times and after the fourth time of me saying "No. Go to sleep." he finally gave in and took a nap. That was a month or so ago and he didn't try to climb out again after that till Saturday. Saturday he was napping as usual and a couple came by to buy a stroller I had listed on Craigslist. Liam came walking out of his room like it was no big deal, handed the guy his sock, and climbed up in the kitchen chair demanding a snack. From that day on, it has been a battle of the wills. Last night he climbed out of his crib twice at bedtime, the first time catching me eating cake and freaking out that I had kept it a secret and waited till he was in his cage to eat it. This morning I woke up in bed, opened my eyes, and noticed that I had his pillow, Elmo, and 7 cloth diapers piled on my back. Apparently the Escape Artist Fairy had visited me in my sleep before heading to the living room to catch bad guys on the iPad.

As I write this he is standing in his crib, one leg flung over the side, yelling "I WILL get out Mama! I WILL!!".

I know the solution is to buy him a big boy bed. Which we are, in a few weeks when our tax return comes through. He's getting the Kura bed from Ikea so I'm hoping the cool factor will help him stay in it. But basically my heart sinks because I know a bed is just going to increase our battles. His crib has been my haven for 2 years. A place I can put him where he can't get me. He is the most demanding, loud, intense child I have ever met, and the idea of no longer having a place where he lays down quietly and goes to sleep frightens me. Yes, I could put a gate in his doorway but he will just scream on the other side of it and that doesn't grant me any breaks. It just fries my nerves.

So to the next milestone we go. Bye Bye Crib, Hello Big Boy Bed. Transitions. It's all about transitions. This whole thing reminds me of car seats. You know the whole, "Each step forward is a step back in safety"? For us it's, "Each transition forward is a step back in my sanity."

He's not mine, I swear.

You know how when your kids get older, they want you to stay away from them in public so you don't embarrass them? I distinctly remember wanting my mom to park at the VERY end of the pick up line when I was a freshman in high school because she was always singing and dancing in the car while waiting and I was paranoid someone would see. Because obviously your life is ruined if you mom sings Hootie and the Blowfish, right? Well the more experience I have with raising a kid, the more gung ho I am about making your kids deal with your embarrassing habits and suck it up, because guess what? It is sweet sweet revenge. Revenge for the millions of times they embarrassed you in public when they were younger. Unfortunately you don't have the option of telling your two year old to go to the opposite end of the check out line so no one will know he is yours. Therefore, when he turns 16, he can't pretend you are not his.

In the last month alone I can count three times I wanted to do a combination of melting into an invisible puddle and laughing hysterically. Two instances happened today. The first was a few months ago. We were strolling through the mall and an older lady was walking towards us dressed head to toe in yellow. I'm talking BRIGHT yellow. A complete pants suit. With yellow heels and a yellow hat. She was also very, uh, sturdy, and easily towered over me. For one reason or another, she decided to say hi to Liam. Liam is usually very outgoing and will immediately put his hand on his chest and say, "Me Liam", caveman style. This time he started screaming, clinging to my leg and yelling, "Wook! Help mama! Big bad banana!!!". People were staring, because he was screaming like someone was pinching him. The Bad Banana Lady gave us the dirtiest look I've seen in awhile and stormed past us. Liam, relieved, let go of my leg and said, "Whew, all gone."

The next two were today at Costco. We were walking to get eggs when a woman on one of those motorized scooter things whizzed by us. Liam yelled very loudly, "Wook! It's the big sick lady on Wall-E!". Apparently she very much resembled one of the boneless meal drinking people on the hovercraft things on Wall-E. He would NOT stop talking about it and of course she happened to be on every aisle we needed to go down. I was very relieved when we finally got to the check out line. Liam likes to push the cart onto one side of the register while I stand on the other to pay. The woman boxing things up was talking to him and he was chattering away. Suddenly, I hear him go "Wook! HAHHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!" in his crazy little laugh. My heart sank because I know that laugh. That is the laugh of his latest and greatest joke he's picked up since potty training. I've been doing my best to ignore it in hopes he would stop and never do it in public but obviously that didn't work. I meekly peered over the register to find my son standing with his hands on his hips, front of his waistband pulled down and tucked so he was dangling out for all to see. "Wook! Peeking!!!! HAHAHAHAHA!!!!!". I silently vowed to kill Shaun for laughing the first time he ever did that, because if he hadn't, maybe this public display of two year old glory wouldn't be happening. I don't think I've ever moved around a register so fast, but I'm pretty sure he was only exposed to air for maybe 5 seconds before I grabbed him. Fortunately the bagger had two boys of her own and didn't seem too traumatized, but I'd be lying if I'm not considering making my kid wear diapers again.

Wish me luck because when he wakes up, we have to go to Target. Sigh.