Tommy's New Race Car

Freshly painted, I have yet to detach him from it... Next up: Kicking ass in Michigan in June.

One Fell Down and Bumped Her Head (And Her Foot)

What is it about being pregnant that makes me such a klutz? Last Friday I climbed up to bed groggy around 11:30pm, snuggled up and zonked out. Somewhere around midnight, I freaked out about a snake on the ceiling, somewhat reminiscent of the snake that Beetlejuice turns into from the stair rail (and no, I hadn't just watched the movie). Being more than just quasi-awake in my hurry to rush out of the bed and get out from beneath the snake that was going to jump on me, I probably would have realized that snakes can't be on ceilings. Yeah. Anyway, klutz-o got her foot caught in the bedspread and took a head first dive into the floor. I didn't even have time to raise my arms to catch myself. I landed right on the crown on my head, to a fun-sounding "crunch" which I can only remember saying in my head "oh, that's not good" and then my right foot landing hard into the floor. At the time, my neck was numb yet also extremely painful at the same time. Yes, I realize that doesn't make sense. I hesitated for a moment to get up, thinking whether or not I should move. I remember grabbing my neck, sort of sobbing in pain, when Tommy found me on the floor. He had been downstairs finishing up watching a basketball game, slowly realizing that it was me that probably fell after seeing that Maximus was in the same room with him sleeping. My right foot seemed frozen but was throbbing. I didn't know what was worse, sitting on the bed or attempting to lay back as Tommy held the weight of my head. His brilliant idea. My foot was just throbbing, pulsing with pain. I popped two Tylenol, which is all I can take right now being pregnant. I can't even tell you what that felt like to lean my head back to take the sip of water to take the pills. Ow! Tommy had convinced me that a 3-foot fall couldn't be that bad and there wasn't much a hospital could do, but I still kept muttering "maybe I should go to the hospital". The only comforting feeling was the Baby bumping around in my tummy. Baby seemed OK. So, I attempted to just settle in for the night. Saturday I sat on the couch all day with a heating pad on my back and ice on my foot. My back seemed a little better, but my range of motion was horrible and I was very sore. My foot was now extremely swollen and purple, still feeling frozen. By Sunday, I limped to Easter and borrowed my Aunt Vickie's bunyon stiff shoe (ok, and her cane), that helped. Though, I was walking on the outer side of my foot, sort of. I had felt a few contractions here and there but by Monday they seemed a little more frequent. I finally called up my ob/gyn and they told me to head to the ER and just get checked out. Four hours later, baby was good, I was having some contractions, no one checked my back or foot (oddly). I was yelled at more about drinking water and being dehydrated then the actual fall. So, when I had my monthly prenatal visit today, Dr. M looked at my foot, "I think you fractured it, I'm calling for an x-ray." Sure enough my right big toe is broken in two places, second toe badly bruised. Gotta see the doc again in a week to make sure it's still straight (somehow it happens to be aligned right), but if it moves I might have to have surgery. Wha, what, surgery!? And, when would that happen, after I pop the baby out??? I'll cross that bridge when we get to it.

Meanwhile, I'm going to try to stay still and keep from damaging myself any further. Sheesh!

Let It Go, Let It Flow

"Let it go, let it flow": this was the mantra of tonight's yoga practice. How much more truthful could that be? Work, family, pregnancy - all pretty stressful lately. It's what I really needed to hear - almost as if my instructor had set my intention for my practice tonight herself. Let things go, let them be as they may. No sense in getting stressed or upset. So, I strove tonight to let my day, my week go. Ok, the last few weeks go. And, I am reminded of my intention throughout the practice: Just relax, enjoy the pose - even if it's not as deep a stretch, as strong a balance, or as long an endurance as it once was or would like it to be. The end result was what I needed to be reminded of - to let it go and let it flow, to learn to reshape my reaction to what was happening around me. Hopefully, that will carry through until my next yoga practice. Or at least Friday.

Tominator Misses in Bradenton Semi-finals by 0.05 of a Second

Tommy can't win'em all but he certainly gave it his all. After qualifying as #1 all weekend, he lost in the semi-finals by .05 of a second. The hardest part will be telling Baeleigh that "Daddy didn't winned" this weekend. She popped up first thing this morning, huge smile on her face, "you know what, mommy? I think daddy winned and is bringing me a trophy." All I could say is, "oh, you do huh?" I'll leave that one for him to break to her.

To see the breakdown, go to http://www.nmraracing.com/.

I'm just glad to have him return home tonight. It's been a hard six days on my own. I don't normally sleep very well when Tommy's away: 1) because I just miss him in general, and 2) because I'm worrying that every noise I hear is someone trying to break in. I've put Baeleigh in bed with me the last five nights, mostly as a pacifier for myself that she's close. Not that it helps, I spend the whole night waking up every hour or so to flip through channels and listen to the heat kick on and off, maybe pace around a little. Once I see that daylight is approaching, I finally fall asleep - as if no one wants to break in the house at 5:30am. (I didn't say my logic made sense.) I told Baeleigh the first night, "OK, this is only for tonight. Tomorrow night you need to sleep in your own bed." Mostly, I think this was really just me saying it aloud to myself, especially when my daughter replies, "but Mommy you told me to get into bed with you." Couple that with being 22 weeks pregnant and I think you'd understand why I'm ready to just drop on the floor when I get home tonight.

Clumsy Mumsy

In addition to be the world's worst cook lately (e.g., burning bacon, brewing coffee in the filter portion of the coffeemaker, dried out dinners, etc.), I guess I need to submit to the fact that I'm also a pregnant klutz. Yesterday, although not my first trip or spill while pregnant, I fell down the stairs. Ok, half the stairs, but still a good four or five of them. I should have known better - let's see I didn't hold on to the railing, was in a hurry, arms full of bags having just come in and tromped down the stairs full force to let Mr. Maximus out of his crate. Out of nowhere it seemed like some invisible force just cut my legs out from under me. I didn't trip, or at least I don't think I did, my legs just crumpled up underneath me. As I tumbled head first towards the basement stair's first platform (thank God for a turning staircase), I could feel my shins hit the first step, then bounce down, my knees landing HARD onto the staircase platform. It was one of those moments where time seems to just stand still. You know it's happening, yet you are somewhat numb to the pain. Then, the pain hits - excruciating pain. I had tried to put my hands out to catch myself but my kneese took the brunt. Or should I say mainly my left knee. I sat there in a fetal position (ironically) for a minute or two scared to move, thinking what if I broke or sprained something. Yes, wimpy girl hurt that bad. I had my cell next to me thank goodness but with only one bar left. I decided rather than turn into "I've fallen and I can't get up" woman, I'd attempt to go back upstairs. I did and assessed the damage. I have a pretty badly bruised, blood blistered left knee that's swollen and extremely sore and some other very sore points on my shins and ankles but OK. Baby's still jumping around, so I think we're good there. I packed some ice on it yesterday, and bandaged it up...

The moral to the story: Hold on to the railing, moron.

Here's a clip from Babycenter.com about clumsiness during pregnancy: http://www.babycenter.com/0_clumsiness-during-pregnancy_224.bc.

So, I guess this means reconsidering yoga sessions as I get bigger huh? Or maybe even now.

The Food Fight

In what seems to be a futile attempt to sway Baeleigh into eating more healthful foods, Baeleigh displays above one of her infamous faces when deciding that she doesn't like something. For the past month or two, Tommy and I have tried to concentrate efforts to introduce more veggies and homecooked meals to Baeleigh. Until now, we have relied heavily upon PB&Js, lunch meats, cheese, yogurt, Chef Boyardee, etc. And, although some of this is OK in moderation, we've decided it's time that Baeleigh eats what we eat. At first read, this probably sounds like we're just plain lazy, but it is actually quite difficult to have a child eat what an adult eats. You try selling salmon with lemon and capers to a 4 year old. Baeleigh also has a quite different dinner schedule than Tommy and I have. This is the crux of the reason why she tends to eat her own separate meal, and more than likely with "G" (Tommy's mom).

Don't get me wrong, G is fantastic. She has helped us out tremendously with picking Baeleigh up after daycare since Tommy and I both work later schedules making it difficult to pick up by 6pm. But, G is also a "grandparent" - you know the ones that like to spoil your kid rotten, fill them up with candy and them sending them back home to you. G's also not so fond of my organic or at least minimally processed and low-fat philosophy for our family. She's certainly come around in the last few years but we're definitely still predominantly Lunchables, Meals-to-Go, and Hi-C drink laden. At least the McDonald's visits have been considerably reduced.

I've tried to start things off easy with Baeleigh (e.g. some carrots - like TWO baby carrots cut up) and mostly milk or water with meals, but she practically folds down epileptic on the floor on me. We've had several pick-ups from daycare now where the first thing out of her mouth is, "Mommy, am I eating carrots for dinner?...because I don't like carrots" and it continues pretty much the whole car ride home. She squirms as I cook them, winces when I set them on the table, gags as she places a small bite in her mouth until she melts down into tears, head on the table. It's a freakin' carrot, already!! I tried some Hamburger Helper Enchilada and a spoonful of corn last night. Surprise, she chooses the option of going to bed over eating ANY of it. So, here I am, being beaten by a 4 year old with our daily food fight. With her happily retiring to bed in lieu of eating what's for dinner, what's a mommy to do? I'm practically ready to pull my hair out. So, today, the lunch special was once again....dinner from last night. I figure the kid's gotta get hungry enough eventually, right? I feel like such a mean mommy, but I think it's the only way I'm gonna break her. So, today, mommy 1, Baeleigh 0. She ate it, begrudgingly and slooooooooowly, but she ate it. As a treat, she got strawberries.

Next step is convincing G to no longer feed her dinner. Or at least me trying to make something more healthful that she can heat up in the event that dinner's pushing past 7:30pm. So, that's my plan of attack. Pray for me!!

Namaste, Baby

Not so long ago, I used to LOVE going to hot yoga classes. I had asked at the time if it would be OK for me to continue going to class once I was pregnant. Sounds crazy but those classes are very addictive. A good yoga class can provide an inner peace, a general calm, a resetting of your priorities within the chaos that is often my life. If I had a realy bad day, I knew going to yoga would release all that tension and I could go home to a great night's rest. Why wouldn't I want to continue my practice?

So, you can imagine my surprise now that I am pregnant how many excuses I make as to why I can't go. So much so, that I'm now 17 weeks along and haven't been to yoga once. I'm too tired, I have too much to do, they aren't holding prenatal yoga classes, etc., etc., etc. Last night was the first night that I went. And, I decided since it had been a while that I'd try just an all-level yoga clas, not the typical hot yoga class that I had enjoyed. It was most definitely a challenge. For one, I have to modify some of my asanas because being pregnant I'm not supposed to twist or do any inversions. For two, I needed to honor and respect the fact that I was no longer at the level I once was in strength, endurance or balance. Perfect example: chaturanga. This asana requires a good amount of strength and endurance, especially during several sets in a row. Cobra is sort of an alternative to this, but your thighs should graze the floor. Imagine my surprise when I realize 1) how difficult it is for me to even muster the strength to do the push-up like move, and 2) that my belly is already uncomfortable smooching into the floor. So, I sort of had to modify it into a girlie push-up, butt in the air. I was a little bummed at that, but ultimately I submitted to the fact that I was there and doing what I could do. Just going through the process, I was still able to feel that inner peace in the end.

But my pivotal moment in the class was as I lay on my back, stretching our legs out with bands and feeling Baby start its little "bump-bump" dance. Like "Hey, Mommy, I'm here and I'm excercising too, see.....". And, as I placed my hand on my belly, this was the first time that I could feel Baby through my belly. Strong but light. That moment in itself, although hard to describe, was worth it to attend the class.

Most people find it hard to believe that I'd feel movements so early, but I do. Tommy being one of those skeptics. So, last night when I got home, laying on the couch, Baby started bumping around again. I told Tommy to quickly come over and feel the baby. I was afraid he'd miss it, but sure enough Baby thumped a few more times. His eyes just popped open, "oh, my Gosh, that's pretty hard." He just smiled. It was a really great night.