I've had this blog open for the last two days just trying to get the energy and moment to write it. I feel like I haven't taken a breath since the summer started. Luckily, I know there's a light at the end of the tunnel, I just have to finish digging the tunnel.
A few weeks ago, Anni told me she wanted to wear panties now. So... we began the potty training journey.
Let's just say, five days later, we ended the potty training journey. She was willing, but her body was not (really, how do you explain how to "let go" to a 2 year old, no matter how relaxed she is?). Anyway, it was an adventure, with only one mildly successful day. The day after we called a time-out, it was obvious we had made the right decision. Her body was happier, she was happier. Apparently, we are not a "potty train in one day" family.
I'm okay with that.
I mean, we play guitars with daddies and papas and dip broccoli in yogurt.
Things can't be all that bad, right?
Some days (okay, most days), we're lucky if we both get dressed... and if we get out of the house? Well, my dears, that's pretty exciting.
This pregnancy really has been very different. I've been my fair share of sick - Anni refers to it as "coughing" and rubs my back while I, erm, hang out over the toilet. She also likes to ask me questions like, "Can I have a cookie, Mommy?" while I get sick, though my favorite was definitely the song she made up to the tune of "Are you sleeping, Brother John?" going something like this, "Mommy's coughing, here's the door, here's the door!" However; it has been nothing like my pregnancy with Anni. Then, I was sick multiple times a day and the only reason I got out of bed was to be sick. I was miserable and, having just moved a few months prior when we got married, knew no one in the area. The truth is, though we knew we wanted to add to our little family, pregnancy terrified me.
Now, I'm lucky enough to have a doctor who remembers my name (and tries his darnedest to remember Anni's) and is truly committed to both myself and our Lil' Bit as his patients. (Actually, the wonderful thing is, not only is he my OB, my Creighton trained, NFP lovin', Catholic and proud of it doctor, but he also does family practice and so also our awesome family doc.) Within days of me finding out we were expecting our second little one, he sat down with me and discussed the progesterone protocol for women who have had premature deliveries. Dude. My last doctor didn't even attempt to find out why Anni came early. She was, I'm sure, a generally competent doctor, and I honestly did like her, but having a doctor who really truly listens after asking the "How are you?" question, makes a big difference (especially when that leads to anti-nausea meds that make getting *anything* done possible). The funny thing is, I spend a heckuva lot of time at our doctor's office. Because we decided to move forward with the progesterone protocol (my dear, sweet husband has mastered the art of preparing and administering those little beauties), I not only have the once-a-month prenatal visits, but blood tests every other week and phone calls to tell me what those results mean moving forward. Seriously? I don't mind - knowing that we're doing our best to help this baby arrive full-term and keeping both of us healthy in the meantime is an amazing feeling. I can do this... the pregnancy thing, of course, not the potty-training apparently (though I can sing and sign any one of the songs off of "It's Potty Time" like a pro).
PS If I didn't mention that my husband has been amazing and supportive throughout my inability to finish basic tasks like, oh, dinner, laundry, our newsletter... let this be that mention. Husband, I love you. You are amazing!
