Today you are 34 weeks and a few days old, gestationally speaking.  34 weeks and a few days old, while technically an okay age to be born and probably have few issues, is not an acceptable age to make your appearance if it can at all be helped. Haven’t you heard that little white boys fare worst in the premature category?  You are both white and male, keep in mind.

Sure, I understand that I have given birth once before and therefore my body is softer, looser, more elastic than it was the first time.  I know this because of how easy I am able to urinate on myself at the drop of a hat.  I know this because my body is SUPER EXCITED to put on weight and has enjoyed gaining 5 pounds a month for a long time now.  AND I know this because for the past week or so walking, standing or moving in any direction that doesn’t involve staying completely still, hurts.  At this point I am pretty sure my pelvis has opened wide enough that an actual watermelon could fall out at any time and I would not be surprised.  In short, it hurts.

I don’t like it, like at all in case you care, but I get it and accept it.

However, while all of these issues are not surprises (I’m older) (my body is different), they are not excuses for you to make an early debut if that’s at all what you have in mind.  I’ve felt “weird” the last few days.  A little more sore, a little more tight, a little more uncomfortable.  Things I chalked up to working 36 hours a week and chasing your almost-three-year-old, nearly 40 pound, just under 40 inch sister around. You still move a lot though, something I both enjoy and wish you did with a little less gusto in the nether regions, so I’ve been okay with the changes.

Then today there was the garage door incident.  Our damn garage door and it’s overly sensitive motion detector that completely stops the door from closing from about 9:45am to almost 11am because the sun, THE FREAKIN’ SUN, shines on it.  You know, the exact time I leave for work and/or get around to leaving the house to run errands.  Sometimes I just lock the house door and leave the dang thing open (not without a lot of (unacceptable, DON’T CURSE) cursing) but today I took your dads advice and decided to pull the cord and manually close it since I was going to work.  He said it was easy.  It wasn’t.

I felt a twinge in my huge stomach when I pulled that stupid cord.  Being used to the lower pelvic soreness and Braxton Hicks contractions I ignored the twinge.  Then my upper abdomen started hurting.  On both sides, really bad.  I chalked it up to a muscle strain after the damn garage door tried to kill me.  And being a nurse, at work in the hospital mind you, I kept true to the stubborn nurse way and pretended nothing was wrong.

When it didn’t go away I did finally call the OB, because it was you I was worried about.  I could have blood spurting out my ears and there’s no way I’m taking off work but you’re a little more important.  The doctor agreed that yes, it does sound like it is probably just a strain but to be on the safe side she told me to go home, drink a lot of water, put my feet up and do nothing the rest of the day until my scheduled appointment tomorrow.  Right.  Because that’s so easy.

Of course to add to my misery as I was leaving, all my nurse buddies did their nursey thing and we had to check all those things we remembered from L&D.  Take your blood pressure! 145/96.  Great.  I’m pretty sure it’s just stress though.   Why don’t you weigh yourself to see if you’ve put on a huge amount of weight recently! 7 pounds in three weeks.  Great, but probably attributed to the fact I don’t watch what I eat anymore.  Pee on a stick! Trace protein.  Agh, whatev I’m going home.

Sigh.  So here we sit now, me, Avelyn and you, Baby Brudder Boy in my belly, scanning the internet and watching Olivia on DVR.  My ass already hurts and I’ve only been doing this for 2-1/2 hours.  This is boring.  This had better be something we don’t have to do after today.

So there’s my long story and with it my plea to you, Baby Brudder Boy.  STAY INSIDE.  Please.  We’ve got a few more weeks of growing planned for you.  Also we don’t have a name, anything done in your room and I can’t even find the Pack n’ Play you will sleep in when you come home.  So for real, take it easy and enjoy the end of this ride.

See you in a few,
Momma

I thought this went without saying but that clearly isn’t so, so here it is: Cat food and/or dog food is not food for little girls.  (Even the bag of cat food we’re passing off to Etta as dog food because the bag was brand new when Thumper ran away and I refused to throw out a perfectly good bag of $5 cat food.  I mean come on, that stuff is HIGH. CLASS.)

However, if you insist on consuming it, I would appreciate it if you would at least pretend to acknowledge it’s disgustingness, instead of chomp-chomp-chomping away like it’s the greatest thing you’ve put in your mouth since that time Gagi gave you Jell-O at Luby’s.

Don’t get me wrong, I kind of get while you might be intrigued by the cat food.  I mean it’s food, on the floor, easily accessible and in small, bite size form.  But I feel compelled to reiterate that IT’S CAT FOOD. DON’T EAT IT.  In the future if you’re still hungry after a meal I hope you will feel like you can come to me and say “Mother dear, I am still hungry.  Can you please provide further sustenance for my aching belly?” in which case I will more than likely respond “Yes, my child. Thank you for not eating off the floor.”

If the accessibility is not the reason you eat cat food, if it is really because you are boycotting the fact I don’t let you eat crap foods that are full of sugar, fried, carbs, beef or doused in salt then we need to have a whole other talk.  Because you should know that Mommy is a nurse, and kids as young as three have been found to have significant plaque build up in their arteries.  THREE, Avelyn, and I don’t want you to end up obese at the age of seven and unable to run on your fat little legs due to the amount of fat deposits obstructing arterial blood flow… but that’s a very scientific conversation for another day.

Anyway, don’t eat cat food.  Or dog food when we finally get around to buying it.  Thanks.

Love,
Momma

You are such a big girl these days!  You have been walking for just over a month now.  You cannot imagine how weird it is to see you change so fast, to have everyday be a “new normal”.  You took your first real steps on April 29, 2009 and by May 29th you were practically running.  Now it’s as if crawling never existed.  “Crawling!” I can almost hear you say, “Crawling is for babies, Mom.  Do I look like a baby to you?” 

No.  No you don’t.  I mean, yes you still look like, and are, a baby.  Your head is still huge in proportion to your body and your little round belly is ADORABLE.  You also still use a pacifier which I’m pretty sure means you’re still a baby.  But you’re not a baby baby anymore.  You aren’t a “kid” either so don’t rush it, okay?  You’re my little girl. 

You are sooooo close to talking and saying real words.  Most of the time you point to something and just say “uh!” but we’re working on learning to say “What’s that?”, “Who’s that?”, “More” and all those things that will make Mommy so excited she DOES NOT pee her pants.  And yes, while I know you know who I am and I’m happy that ma-ma was technically your first word I would absolutely love it if you said my name a little more and Daddy’s a little less.  Well to be fair you should keep saying da-da because it melts both our hearts but you should really just say ma-ma more often.  I’m willing to buy you a pony one day if you commit to this deal.  Let me know n’kay?

My favorite part of the day is waking up to the sound of your beautiful voice, singing yourself awake.  Sometimes I lie in bed just a little too long enjoying you and then you get upset and start yelling for someone to come pick you up.  That grin as I walk in the door is what makes life worth living.  Oh, and I love our new song that we sing in the morning.  Bob Marley rocks huh?  We’ll have to thank Mae and Elaine this summer for the cd.

Avelyn, you are such a sweet, funny little girl.  I laugh all day long at your “jokes” and the sound of your giggle.  And you’re turning into such a good little helper.  The last two weeks you have started to carry around your little pink bucket and put things in it as you find them, collecting your way around the house.  It is so sweet to see you toddling around with your bucket on your arm, sort of like a little purse. 

You love to take books off of the shelves and bring them to me or Daddy but you still will not sit still to read one.  About the only time of day we get a book read is during your nighttime bottle.  You have completely switched over to milk and don’t take anymore formula but I am so happy you still want a nighttime bottle since it’s the one time of day I can always count on you curling up on my lap, snuggling your head close against my chest and settling in for a read.  We rarely get through one book but it’s our special time.  It’s okay, most of the stories I know by heart so we don’t even worry about the books.

Oh my gosh, I almost forgot!  You danced today for the FIRST time!  I laughed so hard and Daddy and I kept trying to make you do it again.  It was the best looking white girl baby dance I’ve ever seen.  Sort of like a bopping up and down, sache side to side kind of thing but PRECIOUS.  Agh you are so cute.

I have to tell you little lady, I am overjoyed to watch you growing into who you will be, someone I am in love with, someone I am proud to know, someone I astonishingly helped create.  Your love is innocent and pure, with no strings attached and I am so lucky to be your mother.  We are having a fabulous time together, aren’t we baby girl? 

I love you with my whole heart,
Momma

I had the same grand plan when I became pregnant with Avelyn.  So okay, maybe in the past I wasn’t so good at journaling but surely now, at this most pivotal point in my life, I will find the time and the words.  Oh won’t it be special to write down this experience so I can remember EVERY SINGLE DETAIL! I thought. OF COURSE I will have time to write in this journal I said.  OF COURSE I will write this baby letters about what I’m feeling; what he/she means to me.  OF COURSE I will find the time/sanity/sentence structure to forever capture these precious moments of life once she is born!  What kind of a mother would I be if I didn’t?  What kind of a mother can’t find the time to write a few sentences about and to her child every now and then?!? 

I’ll tell you who – ME.

Life happened.  It moved so fast.  I was so busy.  I couldn’t get the “perfect” words.  It didn’t sound right.  It sounded too cheesy.  Blah, blah, blah it didn’t get done.  And now, almost a year has gone since she entered this world and I don’t have one word in any journal.  I’ve started a couple of “Dear Avelyn” posts a few times but for some reason they never get finished.  They just sit in my sad little draft folder, patiently waiting their turn.  Every now and then I check the drafts folder, just to see what’s going on in there and I think I can hear their silent squeals of anticipation, “OHHHHHHHHHHHH pick me! Pick me! Pick me!”

Well tonight sweet letters to Avelyn, I am picking you.  Some of you aren’t finished but that’s okay, I think they’ll get the gist.  Maybe I’ll find the time/sanity/sentence structure to say what I want to say about her first birthday.  Maybe I won’t. 

10/18/08

Dear Avelyn,

Hey there sweet face, it’s Momma.  You are six months old today!  You are one-half of a YEAR old!  Sometimes I feel like you’ve been with me my whole life and other days I can’t believe it’s gone so fast.  The first time I saw you, you were 34.9 mm.  3.49 cm.  1.37402 in.  0.00002 miles.  It was October 11, 2007 and you had been growing in my belly for 10 weeks and 3 days.  I can’t remember what I was thinking when you popped up on that screen but I know I was filled with such a sense of wonder and surprise.  All of a sudden you were real.  I watched you bob around in there, moving ever so slightly, your tiny heart already beating away.  Daddy couldn’t be there that day so I took a photo of you on my camera and sent your picture to him right away.  He called back in seconds asking all kinds of questions.  "When are you due?  Did you hear the heartbeat?  How big is it?"  He was so excited.  And now you’re here…

 

12/4/08

Dear Avelyn,

I can’t believe how becoming your mother has changed me so. I live, breathe and feel you with me all the time. I wonder when or if that will ever stop. It seems impossible.

You cry when I leave you now, whether to go in the kitchen or to go to school. I hate leaving you. You are better with Great Grandma Joyce than with the sitter. I am so happy you have this time to spend with her as my Great Grandma’s were so special to me.

This week I’m trying to let you play on your own a little more; sometimes I think you’re too dependent on me. It’s hard to find a balance. I want to give you so much but sometimes I feel like I’m not giving enough. I hate that my mind wanders in the day, fretting over all the work I need to do for school and how it will all get done. When I’m with you I want to focus 100%. I guess either way I’ll feel guilty about something, that seems to be the nature of things.

Oh, and you are so smart!  You know that the computer takes time away from you, so if I sit down to do some work you immediately start whining and reaching for me to come back. You usually win. I figure you can’t be spoiled yet and if so who really cares? That’s a perk of you being my kid, I make the rules. (And deal with the consequences so it’s fair)…

 

3/31/09

Dear Avelyn,

I’m having a hard time coming to terms with everything that is beginning, ending and changing right now.  You have been with us for almost one year and have completely changed my life.  I am almost finished with nursing school (who would have thought the day would ever come?) and will soon start my first real job.  And we are soon to be a family again with me, you and Daddy ALL living under one roof together.  Just the three of us, for the first time since you were born.  Can you believe it?

A few weeks ago I made a very hard decision to move you to San Antonio to live with Daddy until I finish school.  I thought my heart would break.  I cried when I gave you your last bath in our Houston apartment, and when I packed up your suitcase full of your tiny little clothes.  I cried when I made a list of all your routines so Daddy could do things like we did them.  I cried really hard when he found his own way and didn’t need mine. 

And now here we are, coming to the end of this, whatever it was.  This unconventional weirdo life you were born into.  And while I might have it another way, i.e. (painlessly) surgically attach you to my body so we were never apart, I wouldn’t trade anything about you.  You are the most beautiful and precious being I could not have imagined in my most perfect dreams. 

What a wild ride we are on, my child.  An amazing wild ride.

Love,
Momma

Eating poop is gross. I thought everyone knew that but I guess I was wrong. Also, pooping on the stairs is not acceptable behavior. Actually, all pooping inside is frowned upon. Being that you are five and a half years old you should know this by now.

For the record I’d like to take this opportunity to reiterate the disappointment I feel when I wake up in the morning, walk downstairs to greet the day and stumble into the kitchen to find old poop, pee pads and trash everywhere. I know the prednisone makes you super fat and hungry but come on! To accomplish a mess of this magnitude you had to somehow reach the trash bag, rip it open from the bottom, chew through your own dirty pee pads and poop to get to the leftover piece of meat smaller than my pinkie nail that was hiding in the trash.

You. Are. Gross.

Respectfully,
The Tall Lady

I officially laughed yesterday and again today. Are you happy? Now stop being a bitch.

Love,
Avelyn

PS – if you try to catch it on camera one more time I will stop again for another 3 months.
PPS – this is our 200th post. Is that cool, crazy or sad?

Why won’t you laugh for Momma? We all know how funny and riveting my stories are. I thought months ago you had started when I put up that video for all to see. Guess not. I just wanted you to know how your smiles light up my life. Sometimes seeing you smile is the only thing that makes the day worthwhile. After a long day of nursing or class I can’t wait to come home to you and see your face when you see mine. Everyone knows how much I loathe getting up early in the morning but I don’t mind so much when I get to wake up to you. I think a laugh would really help this too.

Is it too much to ask to hear your adorable giggle? I don’t need to hear it to know it will be adorable, that goes unsaid. Each night after your bath I dry you off on the bed. You get cold, since the house is cooling down for bedtime, and I wrap you in your towels and blow warm air all over you and make growling noises on your tummy. You love it. It’s the only time I think you might be close to a wholehearted chuckle. I think I’ve heard one once or twice and it was the most beautiful sound. I can’t wait much longer! I need to hear it on a regular basis!

Anyway, you’re kind of starting to give me a complex. Could it be that I’m not as funny as I think I am? Lord I hope not, I have so little. So pretty, pretty please with a cherry on top….? Just thought I would ask.

I love you!
Momma