Monthly Archives: September 2010

Can I tell you, I’m kinda getting a little freaked out….

So, we know we’re expecting another little buddy around Christmas time. I “get” to schedule his birthday, probably around mid-December.

Anyway, that’s, like, three months away.

Only three months away.

Less than 100 days.

I know that once Little Brother is here, after a few weeks, it will seem like he’s always been here. I know that. I’m banking on that. Because, yes, while Ollie will be about two when Little Brother is born, his delays and challenges make him feel younger.

A lot younger.

Like some days, he feels like he’s less than a year and I never wanted my children to be that close in age. Think of how hard it would be, [I thought] with both kids needing so much from parents.

Yeah, that’s how it is. Ollie needs – and gets – a lot from us.

Kid doesn’t even feed himself.

He has yet to find his independent streak.

I’m not mad at Ollie; far from it. I’m proud as a peacock of him and his success. But we really need to get crackin’ on these delays, dude.

Walking….walking would be nice. While it’s cute as hell to see him doing his butt-scoot to get places, somehow that doesn’t seem like the recommended method of traversing the driveway to get to the car. While I’m carrying his little brother. In December. In Wisconsin. I would much rather picture us hand-in-hand walking to the car, carrying Little Brother in his infant carrier. Not struggling to set up and maneuver a double stroller, not fighting the slush in the tires of said double stroller, not wondering if this is how parents of twins usually feel.

I think about how much easier life will be when he is walking, and I can’t help but feel a bit woe-is-me about it. I’m so ready for him to be caught up.

And eating. Oh, eating.

I was at the Y yesterday, giving him a lunchtime bottle of milk and this sweet (looking) elderly lady gave me a queer look and asked: “he does get food, right?” shortly followed by, “does he ever hold his bottle?”

Thanks lady, with two mind-yer-own-business questions, you found my Achilles heel and took me down in record time. Thanks for pointing out the things that my kid doesn’t do. The things that I feel pretty sensitive about, and exposing them for your own precious curiosity to be satisfied.

I hate hate people like that. Those were the ones who stared when Ollie still had the oxygen tube in his nose. All I want from you, Kind Stranger, is to tell me my kid is cute. That’s it. That’s where our conversation should end. If I want to get into why he’s not holding a bottle or not walking, that’s my prerogative, but I don’t like defending my child to complete strangers. It’s really nunya-bidness whether he’s eating, walking, crawling, standing, reading the dictionary, doing equations or working out the solution to world peace in his free time. All that matters to you is that he’s cute.

End of rant.

So, yeah, he doesn’t feed himself. Which, when we have a newborn who, coincidentally, also won’t feed himself, it’ll be a challenge to get everyone on a schedule that we can all live with. Thankfully Matty and I can both bring a fork to our mouths, chew, and swallow without looking like I just put velvet on his tongue and told him to swallow.

And sleeping. Ollie is back to being a great sleeper. I’m not going to complain about that. But he still has issues getting himself to sleep. We can’t plop him in his crib and three minutes later, find a sleeping child in his spot. No siree, not Ollie! (And I know this is our fault) He requires snuggles to settle him down after a full day of doing what we’ve done. I really, really kind of love that he’s a snuggle-up-a-gus. I do. I will miss that when he is able to settle himself down for the night.

But it just doesn’t seem like the best thing to be encouraging, when there’s a tiny version of him brewing up right now. Another little dude who’ll likely enjoy the snuggles of a parent just as much to get to sleep. How will anyone ever nap when there’s two children that need snuggling, but only one mama around to do it?

So, yeah, I might be freaking out a little bit. Because people have kids that are two years apart all the time, but their Number One is perfectly on track developmentally, and it’s still knock-your-socks-off hard.

Because Ollie is absolutely awesome just the way he is. You can tell how proud I am of him from every other post on here about him. He is amazing and a blessing and perfect. But sometimes the happy hides, the pride is eclipsed by milestone envy, and the worry sets in about what we’re about to take on. And it freaks me out. But I know with every milestone that he conquers, he is finding his independent streak. And I’m going to be all woe-is-me about that.

I just hope that he doesn’t have to learn how to walk from his Little Brother.


Posted by on September 10, 2010 in Uncategorized


And, he’s apparently exceptionally tall.

Being a high-risk pregnant mama makes you busy.

It also gives you a fun little window to peek through every month or so.

Not only do I have the standard once-every-four-week appointments with the baby doctor group, but each appointment is longer and more involved than that same appointment with Oliver. And, add to it that I’m a Stay-at-homer, I have to wrestle with my mom’s busy schedule to make sure that she is available to watch the Ollie-gator while I’m tested and poked and prodded and listened to and whatnot.

Like, my last appointment, my 24-week appointment. With Ollie, it lasted maybe 20 minutes. Had he not been so dramatic in his appearance, I would probably be able to bring him along for all these doctor visits. Blood pressure taken, Doctor found the heartbeat, I was asked if I had any questions, and I’d be on my way. Easy-peasy.

With Little Brother here, I was gone for 2 1/2 hours. Yeah, no way I’m bringing Ollie along for a marathon appointment like that. I don’t want to make all the soon-to-be-moms in the waiting room wonder what they’ve gotten themselves into.

But I kinda love that, the detail work that’s happening this time.

Starting with this last appointment, we are getting into that scary time when things starting going downhill for Ollie, and my doctor group really wants to keep a close eye on my insides to make sure we’re not heading down any slippery slopes.

So I get an ultrasound every four weeks. They check for growth patterns and blood flow and movement and fluid levels all the things that Little Brother should be doing.

And he’s passing all his tasks wonderfully.

And he still has his boy-parts.

And, he’s apparently exceptionally tall.

While the ultrasound tech was measuring him, she asked where he landed on the size charts last time. He was either at the 49th percentile or the 51st percentile, I couldn’t remember. But she’s looking at his head and hmmmm’s, and then she measured his belly and hmmmmm’d some more, and then she measured his femur bone length and finally asked:

“Is there anyone in the family who is exceptionally tall?”

I guffawed so hard, Little Brother danced around on the screen.

Uh, yeah. His dad is 6′ 7″.

“ooooooohhhhhh! (laughs) That explains it, then!”

She was concerned about Little Brother’s size, he’s measuring about a week-and-a-half ahead. At 23-nearly-24 weeks, he’s measuring at a 25-weeker. And in the 91st percentile for size. And, so much for being “Little Brother,” at 1 pound, 11 ounces, his weight is already estimated to be more than Ollie at birth.

It’s hard to imagine a baby being 1 pound, 11 ounces and that’s bigger than Ollie.

Big doesn’t equal bad, though. At least not yet. It could be that, with my blood thinners and everything in good working order, I just grow big babies, or it could be that we caught him in the middle of a growth spurt and next time he’ll be back in the middle percentile. Next appointment, I get tested for gestational diabetes, which would suck to have developed, but that can be a reason for a baby’s bigness.

Either way, I may have been here before in terms of weeks-along, but I’ve never carried a baby this size before. We’re in our no-man’s-land again; I feel like a first timer.

Hard to believe that I’m already as far along as I am. And every appointment is so reassuring that I can grow healthy babies, I just need a little help. As we get further along into the pregnancy, my fears of having another micro-preemie are starting to fade and are being replaced by excitement to meet Little Brother.

At the end of 40 weeks, though, he may be the size of a toddler.


Posted by on September 9, 2010 in Uncategorized