Anyway, I guess I just wanted to celebrate this milestone and say hello to everyone reading this.  So glad you’re here and if you ever feel like de-lurking and saying hello back, I’d love to hear from you!

I won’t rehash the whole visit.  Suffice to say that the midwife was nice enough but the negatives or causes for concern far outweighed the positives.  Here are a few of the things that caused concern for me:

• A nurse did my initial intake, including reviewing paperwork, taking my blood pressure, and listening to the baby’s heartbeat via doppler.  To be honest, she’s the one that I liked best at that practice.  She was genial and supportive.  However, I am used to everything being done by the midwife so I was a little thrown by working with the RN first.  Kinda felt like a regular MD’s office rather than a midwifery practice.
• When the midwife came in she was wearing a white coat.  I haven’t met that many midwives but I’ve never met a midwife that wore a white coat.  To me, it’s one of the symbols of the “I am the professional, you are the patient” power dynamic that is antithetical to midwifery care.  It may not be a problem during prenatal care but that approach is what can lead to women being pressured into interventions that they don’t want and don’t believe are necessary while in the middle of labor.  The midwives I’ve worked with have all met with me wearing business casual or casual clothes, except during the delivery of course, then it was scrubs.  That feels to me more representative of the “We’re in this together.  Let’s work together to support your body while it does when it was meant to do” philosophy, which is what I was looking for.
• The midwife explained that she was going to do a pap smear.  When I questioned her about doing it during pregnancy when I’ve had one within the last year, she assured me it was standard practice and then started the physical.  During the pre-pap conversation I mentioned that I didn’t have much breast tenderness now since (1) my son stopped nursing and (2) the first trimester is over.  She completed the rest of the exam and then said something along the lines of, “I didn’t realize that you’re already pregnant.  You’re right; we won’t do a pap now.”  Um, I’m 25 weeks.  It’s in the chart AND I’m showing.  *Loses points for inattentiveness to important details.*
• Once the physical exam was over, she left the room so I could dress, saying that she’d be back to answer all my questions.  She did come back to answer my questions but I got the distinct impression that she had somewhere more important to be.  Her answers were short and dismissive and she didn’t really make eye contact.  When I shared my concern that my first child being big would predispose a new care provider to moving to c-section too quickly she said, “Oh, that shouldn’t be a problem.  You have a proven pelvis.”  Proven pelvis.  Hate that phrase and, to me, it is pretty telling.  If you believe in a woman’s innate ability to birth a child given the right support then all pelvises are proven until shown otherwise AND there are a relatively low number of women who will need intervention for reasons related to their pelvis.  (I should qualify this by saying that this is true for women who have had adequate nutrition over the course of their lives.  It can be far more difficult for women whose own growth is stunted or delayed due to malnutrition to birth a child vaginally without intervention or significant damage.)  That was probably the biggest red flag of all for me.

On my way home I was asking myself things like… If I ended up with a c-section would I trust that the folks in this practice had exhausted every possible option to help me have a vaginal birth instead?  How likely would I be to hear things like “failure to progress” and “let’s talk about medication” during labor if I stayed with this practice?  If something went wrong with the birth, how would I feel about my decision to stay with this practice?  I was practically in tears as I compared the experience I’d just had with the one I had with the midwives that I wanted to work with.  I was waffling back and forth between feeling like I should stay with them because they are covered by my insurance and feeling like I should do whatever I could to get back to the folks I wanted to be with.

I was still processing this when my husband got home from work.  In a few short minutes he threw my own logic back at me (“trust and the birthing process”… ya gotta have trust) and all of a sudden it was clear as day that I couldn’t stay with that practice.  The reality is that if I stayed with this practice and wasn’t able to have the kind of birth I hope for, I wouldn’t be able to trust that they’d done everything they could to help me have the birth I want.  I’d always question whether their decisions were influenced by their proximity to OBs, questions of liability, whether they’d started seeing birth as a medical process rather than a natural, normal thing that most women’s bodies can do with relatively little interference.

Last night I scrambled through our health insurance’s website and found the local midwives that do accept our insurance.  Much to my delight, I discovered that there is a small, independent birth center in PA that is only 30 minutes from our new home AND they take our insurance.  I called to ask some questions and had a much, much, much more positive experience on the phone than I did with the midwife/OB practice.  I have an initial intake appointment with them next week and am very optimistic that I may have found our next care providers.  Stay tuned!

I’ve been enjoying the second trimester.  I got my energy back, I haven’t been hindered at all in what I can do physically, I’ve been sleeping as well as the Stinkerdoodle will let me.  It’s been pretty good.  I’m starting to see, though, the third trimester coming around the corner.  I’m also starting to remember how swollen and exhausted I was in the last 4 to 6 weeks of it.  To be honest, I have more than a little trepidation about how I’m going to handle that while caring for a toddler.  We’ll work it out, I’m sure, but from here it’s a little scary.

I have a few more tools to be able to manage it this time.  First, I am a totally reformed worshipper at the altar of the nap.  After one particularly miserable day this week, I spent the next day sleeping while the Sdoodle napped and it made all the difference in my mood for the rest of the day.  It also meant that my stomach muscles weren’t nearly as sore by the end of the day.  Second, I heard about this great thing called belly binding.  There’s a wonderful article on it in the newly released Resource Guide from The Feminist Breeder.  Since I already love me some Thing-A-Ma-Slings and our family owns three of them, I’m absolutely planning on doing this later in the third trimester.

As I said to Pete, although I’m enjoying being pregnant more this time than last, I still don’t love it.  I wish I was one of those blissfully happy, glowing pregnant women who are just beside themselves with joy to be gestating (do they really exist?) but I’m not.  This week my body started reminding me what a gift forgetfulness is as I started to have some vague memories of the end of my last pregnancy.  So, for now, I’m savoring the end of the second trimester with all its features like having a little energy still, having enough room in my stomach to eat a normal sized meal (mostly), and not needing to get up every two hours at night to pee.  I’m also mustering my inner reserves for the test of fortitude that is the third trimester, especially the last 6 weeks.  Oh, did I mention that we’ll be buying our first house and moving in when I’m around 32 to 33 weeks pregnant?  Guess I’ll get to put those third trimester nesting impulses to good use!

But now?  Now he’s on a pink kick.  Yep, a boy who loves pink.  When given a choice, he will choose…

... the pink binky,

... the pink cup (did you know that dinosaurs like their milk from pink cups too?),

... and the pink diaper cover.

We don’t have a whole lot of pink in the house because (1) I’m not a big fan and, (2) well, we have a boy.  Most of his toys and clothes are gifts or hand-me-downs so there aren’t a lot of pink things among them.  To be honest, I’m totally cool with boys digging pink.  In fact, the feminist in me kind of loves it but I know that toddlers are fickle and he’ll have another favorite color soon enough.

In my contact with other families over the years I’ve met folks who would FLIP if their son was into pink.  To each their own, I guess, but I just don’t see how the color of my kid’s sippy cup or binky is predictive of his future masculinity, sexual orientation, or anything else.  Besides…

(The Stinkerdoodle at 4 months old)

What are the parenting trenches, you ask?  They are years between birth and your child’s 4th birthday, or thereabouts.  They are the years when you are your child’s whole world and they are totally dependent on you.  This applies to kids whose parents are at home, kids whose parents work, and any combination of the two.  They are the years when:

• The ability to have a complete adult conversation during daytime hours is next to impossible.  One or the other of you – or both! – is responding to requests for help or milk or attention or whatever all while trying to maintain a focused and intelligent conversation with the other one.
• Date nights are a precious commodity but often end far earlier than your decade-younger, pre-child self would deem at all suitable.  Yep, you become one of THOSE people who leaves a party by 10 or 11 because, heavens knows, your child doesn’t care how late you stayed up the night before, they’re getting up at the same crack-of-dawn time they always do!
• Spousal intimacy sometimes happens fast and furious between nighttime wakings and feedings or the beginning and the end of nap time and always with the monitor in the room… and some part of each of you chanting in your head, “Please don’t wake up.  Please don’t wake up.  Please don’t wake up.”
• Stickers on your good furniture, spills on your good couches, pointy objects jammed into DVD players and openings on your computer, water play in the toilet, and so many other fun things happen in your house… and sometimes repeatedly.
• You and your spouse/partner get to practice your spelling more often because the mention of things like p-i-z-z-a or i-c-e-c-r-e-a-m or g-r-a-p-e-s or q-u-e-s-a-d-i-l-l-a-s (wait, is that last one only us?) without being able to produce said item may very well lead to a nuclear level meltdown.
• You are so busy planning the course of events of your day to work around meal times and nap times and to avoid peak tantrum times that you forget to do things like look your spouse/partner in the eye and say, “I love you.”

You get the idea.  Kids in the 0 to 3 year range are demanding.  It’s not malicious, it’s not manipulative, it’s totally developmentally appropriate.  And it can be totally maddening.  Far more than we want, it means putting our own needs aside because we have faith that if we parent one way or another it’ll give our kids the skills to be more confident and independent as they get older and then we get to reclaim that part of our lives!

Pete and I talk about the parenting trenches fairly frequently.  Sometimes it is with a sense of grief and loss.  We were just starting to see glimmers of the end of the trenches with the Stinkerdoodle when we signed ourselves up for another three years of it starting in May.  Sometimes it is with a sense of strength.  “Hey, look at what the two of us can do together – get through the trenches and still like each other on the other side!”  Sometimes I think it’s just a way to remind ourselves that it won’t always be this hard.  No, I’m not saying that parenting is ever easy but I do think that the type of “hard” it is changes over time if you have healthy, normally developing, neurotypical kids.  I’m guessing that it becomes a little less of a physical marathon (sleep deprivation, carrying a flailing, 35-pound toddler, packing and carrying a diaper bag the size of Montana every time you go out, etc.) and more of an emotional marathon as your kids get older.  As a side note, if you’re parenting a child with special needs, your trenches may last a little – or a lot – longer and, as far as I’m concerned, you get all the props – and margaritas! – in the world for it!

When we talk about the trenches, we’re also saying to each other that there WILL be a time again when we are primary in each other’s lives.  Strong parents with a healthy marriage are far more able to raise strong and healthy kids.  To me, that’s a no brainer.  There is a time coming when we’ll be able to leave our kids with a babysitter and stay out late doing things that make us happy together.  There is a time coming when we’ll be able to have a dinner conversation with the children there because they’ll either understand the need to not interrupt or they’ll be old enough to participate in and contribute to the conversation.  There is a time coming when we might even be able to go on a quick vacation with just the two of us!  That time may not be right now but, as we say often, our 40s will be fabulous!

On the day you turned two, you woke up at 4:30 a.m. for the second day in a row.  Your mean ol’ mama wouldn’t let you get up until a more reasonable hour so you hung out in bed with her until…

you started the day at 6:30 with some Dada snuggles.  Lucky you!

 First stop for play?  Well the matchboxes, of course!!

Next stop, breakfast but first you checked out your birthday balloons and birthday banner.

 Fresh blueberries with a side of yogurt and raisins – yum!

Now it’s time to gas up the race cars!

No birthday is complete without a little streaking before getting dressed!  That might just be the cutest little belly I’ve ever seen!  (Currently sporting his BumGenius 4.0 diaper.)

Next stop?  Skyping with Grammy and Grampy!  While chatting with them, you got to open the gift that they sent you and that kept you busy for the rest of the call.  It was…

… a fun new train set!!

It’s your birthday so you got to choose our next activity – playdough!  Unfortunately, the fun ended with…

… the I’ve-been-up-since-4:30am-meltdown, seen here in its early stages.  You told Mama to put the red playdough away and then totally melted down when she did.  When she offered to take it back out again, you only got madder and sadder.  Yep, you’re definitely 2!

A quick snack of olives and some pears and off to bed with you, Snuggle bug!

I asked you what you wanted for lunch, you said “pizza,” so, of course, we had to go out!  Besides, I don’t get many lunch dates with either of my favorite guys!

In continuing our theme of “doing stuff you like to do” our next stop was the library, or iberry, as you say it.  They have cars, puzzles, books, dinosaurs, and computers.  What more can a little boy want?  Next stop was not so exciting (farmer’s market) and then it was time to head home for a little TV for you and dinner making for me.

Mmm, a little “Shaun the Sheep” and couch gymnastics while Mama cooks dinner.

Dinner, however, was not exactly a rousing success.  You were more interested in banging the balloons around than eating green beans and sausage.  Yep, you’re totally 2!

 A little silly time with Dada after dinner and it was off for…

… teeth brushing and then bed.

A few books and snuggles before bed.  You want to know how I know you had a good day?  For both nap and bedtime you were asleep within 60 seconds of when I put you down in your bed!  Happy birthday, little dude!

I found a practice that seemed like they’d be wonderful.  85% of their deliveries are home births and their c-section rate is under 5%.  More importantly, their philosophy is that they strongly believe that birth is a natural, normal process that doesn’t need medical intervention unless there is cause for concern.  They trust in women’s bodies to grow and birth children.  Although I have been very grateful for the care I received from our first midwife, this new practice was a step closer to what I think of as “pure midwifery care” and I was excited to find them.  After meeting one of the midwives I was certain that I wanted to work with them for this birth.

Turns out that there’s a hitch, though… they are out of network for most medical providers.  We did a predetermination of benefits process with our health insurance and got the response that they would reimburse for NONE of the midwives’ fees.  Cah-rap!!!  I heard this yesterday late morning, put the kiddo down for a nap, and then tried to figure out what to do.  I REALLY wanted to work with the new practice but we just can’t pay out-of-pocket their entire fee.  Okay, into crisis management mode…

I decided to call the hospital where I would have delivered to see if there are any other midwives that have privileges there.  Turns out there are; there are four midwives that are part of a practice that also includes seven obstetricians.  That immediately set up red flags because that feels like moving closer to the mainstream medical world rather than away from it.  I, being full of pregnancy hormones, went pretty quickly into a freak out, tears and all.  I posted on Facebook, got some wonderful support from some wonderful friends, and pulled myself together.  I called the new practice, asked a bunch of questions, got a few answers, and made an appointment for two weeks from now.

Now, I don’t know anything about this new practice.  I don’t have recommendations from people who have used them.  I’ve never heard of them before.  Here’s what I do know, though…

• I know that I trust my body.  If nothing else, pushing out a 10 pound, 10 ounce child for your first pregnancy will teach you that!
• I know that I trust my husband.  Pete was phenomenal through the first labor - pushing on my sacrum with every contraction for 15 hours (except for the few that our doula relieved him for), helping me slow my breathing, keeping my focused and relaxed, reminding me to drink, and so much more.  I also know that he won’t hesitate to tell people to quit offering me drugs (if they do that), he’ll ask a ton of questions before agreeing to an intervention, and that he’ll generally be my firewall.
• I know that I trust my doula.  During our first labor she was such a fabulous, calming presence.  She knew just the right way to suggest new positions for laboring and pushing, encourage me to eat and drink, bouy my spirits when they flagged, guide me through getting the most out of the stadol when I requested it, taking pictures during active labor, and so much more.

Even if these midwives are not the hippie, alternative-to-mainstream-medicine midwives that I’d originally hoped for, there’s no reason for me to assume at this point that they’ll do anything other than support our birth plan as long as medically possible.  However, I also know that I have an awesome team in my corner with my husband and our doula.  The three of us together with Acorn can make this as successful a birth as the last one, of that I’m confident.

• Parenting “experts” – What makes them experts?
• Our family’s philosophy of parenting
• How children’s personalities can vary widely, even within families – In other words, Acorn’s personality what may challenge or force us to amend what we’ve identified as our parenting philosophy
• The vulnerability of children, including their emotions, their brains, not to mention their little bodies!
• The resilience of children
• The parenting blog authors, commenters on FB, constituents of Twitter-land, and the like that condemn others for their parenting choices,  sometimes very harshly, or that advocate all parents to take adopt their philosophy  – Take this post from Baby Rabies, for example.  She got a lot of supportive comments on the blog but Facebook was another matter altogether.  Wow!  Hello, vitriol!
• The differences (and similarities!) in parenting a child of adoption and a birth child.

Out of this swirling broth of parenting stuff comes a post called “Parenting Hubris.”  It’s origin?  The vast proliferation of authors, blogs, experts, talk shows, etc. that tell parents how to parent.  There sure are a lot of resources out there that will tell us parents exactly what to do to have the most successful, competent, healthy child possible.  There are a lot of good, science-supported arguments out there about what can have a positive or negative impact on children and their development.  One of the recent examples of this that I found coming across my Facebook feed recently was this blog post from Psychology Today called “Dangers of ‘Crying It Out’.” My guess is that there are other articles out there that cite other psychological studies and that show that crying it out (CIO) is not harmful to children and that these articles are also written by experts.  So experts say two totally different things?  Yep, in sleep training (or lack thereof) and soooo many other things.  There are experts who are doctors, psychiatrists, psychologists, ministers, counselors, and just your everyday average Joe.  How on god’s green earth are we as parents fumbling our way through our first – or even subsequent – children supposed to know what is the right way to go??

Here are the things I do know:

• I am not an expert parent but I am an expert on my child.  That doesn’t mean that I won’t listen to and learn from others – experts, friends, family – but it does mean that I trust my gut to give me the right answer for my child … eventually.
• Children, especially when they are young, are so fragile and so easily shaped by their environments.  I’ve done some reading and learning about early exposure to trauma and have found it fascinating and heartbreaking.  Did you know that their little brains can actually be rewired by the experiences they have??  On the other hand, though…
• Children are incredibly resilient.  In my work in both domestic and international adoption, I have seen kids adopted into families after having gone through horrendous, horrendous prenatal and early childhood experiences.  They’ve seen and experienced things that no child their age should ever have to experience.  As a result, many of them suffered in ways that were either immediately obvious or that didn’t become apparent until later.  And yet… many of them found the strength to start learning to love and trust their new families.  Many of them went on to be successful in school and successful in relationships.  These things happened with hard work, sure, but, in many cases, it happened!
• Pete and I have chosen a parenting philosophy that makes the most sense to us and that we think has worked well so far with our first child.  There’s a very real possibility that Acorn (and any future children) will challenge what we now think is right for our family and make us adapt our way of thinking.  While I can’t imagine now that we would change our philosophy drastically, I learned a long time ago to never say never (except maybe about this :-) ).  If we end up fostering children, as we think we likely will, we fully expect that we may need to adapt some of what we do to meet their needs and to help them heal a little from their experiences.
• There is condemnation and judgment to be had for pretty much every parenting decision you make, especially if you make it public.  I feel fortunate that I’ve only had one person actually challenge some of the decisions that we’ve made and he backed off when I gave him a little pushback.  Other than that, we’ve had no outright judgment or condemnation.  (I will say, though, that some of the faces we get when we say that the Stinkerdoodle still sleeps with us are HYSTERICAL!  It’s like people have something they want to say and then swallow it, subsequently making a rather amusing, puckered-looking face.  It is the funniest. thing. ever!)  Some folks haven’t been so lucky as to avoid criticism and they fight it on a regular basis.  The internet sure seems to bring out Judgy McJudgerson in some people!!

So where does the “hubris” part of “parenting hubris” come in?  I’m finding that I do find it disagreeable when people tend to say that their style of parenting is The Way or The One that will breed successful kids.  The definition of hubris is excessive pride or self-confidence or arrogance.  I do think it is excessively arrogant to say that there is one parenting way that works for all parents and all kids and “that way is my way.”  I also know that its hard sometimes to watch other parents make decisions that are different from those that we would make.  I’ll admit to worrying about the kids and how they’re doing.  BUT, does that mean that I would challenge someone on their parenting choices as a random passerby, family member, or friend?  No.  (As a professional social worker, when I was working I did give parenting recommendations and critique as part of my job but I consider that different from my everyday personal life.)

Do I judge other parents?  Sure but only in my own head!  I’m not sure anyone can avoid the thoughts that swirl through our heads from time to time but my goal is to (a) not judge out loud and (b) try to see it from their perspective.  Who knows, maybe I’ll learn something!  I do find, though, that the folks whose decisions I struggle with most often are those that don’t appear to be making thoughtful, reasoned decisions about their parenting.  You know, the folks that go along with what everyone else is doing because, well, everyone else is doing it.  I don’t come across many of those, though.  Maybe I’m fortunate with the people I meet in my life but I find that most of the people I talk to are making thoughtful decisions out of love for their child, not out of peer pressure.

Not really sure where I’m going with this post and, apparently, I’ve reached the rambling end of it.  I guess I just wanted to put out there some of the things I’ve been thinking, many in reaction to things I’m reading on blogs, websites, and Facebook.  What it all boils down to is this I guess… There is a lot of good information out there and lots of judgment being thrown around but, when it comes down to it, we are each the experts in our own children and their needs.  If we can keep ourselves open to learning new parenting skills and ways, maybe even from unexpected places, then we’ll be that much the better for us and so will our children.

The Stinkerdoodle on the scale immediately after his birth

Most often people suspect gestational diabetes when a child is born that large and, in fact, that was one of my midwife’s first questions to me.  “Did you pass the blood sugar test?”  Yep, I did with no problems.  Admittedly, we had genetics predisposing us to big babies.  Before the birth we knew that both my brother and I were over nine pounds and Pete was seven-ish pounds but three weeks early.  Who knows how big he would have been if the pregnancy went to 40 weeks!  After the birth we learned that Pete’s grandmother, who had six boys, had four kids over nine pounds and two kids over 10 pounds.  In addition, it turns out that several of my cousins were pretty big babies too.  The Stinkerdoodle only won the award for biggest size on my side of the family by a few ounces.  Kinda wish we’d had that information ahead of time but, on the other hand, it’s probably good that we didn’t!

For Acorn’s pregnancy I kind of assumed that I was destined to have another 10+ pound baby.  Early in the pregnancy our family doctor kindly informed us that second children are typically half a pound heavier than first children.  Um, yeah, thanks for that.  That would mean an 11 pound baby for us!  Yikes!  But then a friend whose first child was over 10 pounds had a seven and a half pound baby and all of a sudden it didn’t seem so certain.  So I got to thinking… is there anything I can do to keep myself from growing another huge baby (without damaging my health or the baby’s health, obviously)?

Between Stinkerdoodle’s birth and my pregnancy with Acorn our family started eating a more primal diet.  Basically, we cut all processed foods, grains (wheat, corn, quinoa, soy, everything), legumes, sugars, and most dairy.  While I’m no expert on the primal diet (for that you can go to Mark’s Daily Apple) the basic jist of it is that you eat things that are closer to what our human ancestors ate, i.e. meat, vegetables, fruits, nuts, and seeds.  The whole idea is that our bodies haven’t really evolved to fully process grains, sugars, and the likes and eating them can actually cause inflammation in your digestive tract.  More importantly, it can also wreak havoc with your blood sugar and make your body more inclined to burning carbs rather than fat.  This means that, among other things, you don’t worry too much about the amount of fat you’re eating because once your body gets the message that that’s what it’s going to burn, it needs it!

Pete introduced me to this years ago and I was highly, highly skeptical initially.  Everything I’d ever read about nutrition was that you need lean meats, whole grains, veggies, and fruit to eat a balanced diet.  Not to mention the fact that I really couldn’t imagine giving up pasta, bread, rice, and all the other goodies that I liked.  He forged ahead and started changing the way that he ate.  I tried to support him some by changing the way I cooked but didn’t really make the full switch over.  Then came the day that we were having dinner with friends, one of whom is diabetic, and Pete started talking about this way of eating.  Our friend started talking about the similarities between primal eating and the diet recommended for diabetics; turns out that there’s a good bit of overlap!  All of a sudden, primal eating didn’t seem as “out there” to me anymore.

Then came 2011, when Pete committed himself to eating a much stricter primal diet starting in January.  Over the course of 6 months he lost 25 pounds, all without eating a low-fat diet or having much time to introduce exercise!  (Note: the primal way of eating is supposed to be accompanied by exercise but with his long commute, etc. it was hard to find time to squeeze it in.)  When I saw those results I started to take it more seriously and, in April, decided to start eating primal myself.  Within a month or two I was 10 pounds lighter and feeling great!  Sure, there’s what we call the “carb flu” when you first switch over and your body is getting used to burning fat rather than carbs.  Once that’s over, though, I found that my energy improved and I was feeling better.  I think we also discovered that I have a sensitivity to gluten because, um, let’s just say my pipes work better when I’m not ingesting any grains, wheat in particular.

In June and July I started backsliding a bit into my older ways of eating.  As anyone who’s tried to make a change to the way you eat knows, it can be tough to stick to at times.  Then came August and finding out that I was pregnant.  Obviously, weight loss was no longer desirable. Then came the results of my initial pregnancy blood tests.  My hemoglobin A1c test came back and was one measly decimal point away from classifying me as at significant risk for diabetes.  That particular test measures your blood sugar levels over the course of the last three months.  Uh oh!  Since we have several folks with diabetes on my side of the family and I’d had such a big baby the first time, I was concerned.   I got thinking.  The primal diet, when eaten correctly (remember, I’d gone off the rails in the few months prior to this test) is designed to regulate blood sugar and keep it on a more even keel.  We already know that high blood sugars and/or gestational diabetes can lead to bigger babies.  Hmm, I wondered, what would happen if I kept eating primal while pregnant?  Would Acorn end up being smaller than his big brother was?  Would that be related to my diet or chance?

At our ultrasound last week we learned that Acorn is currently 53% in size for babies his gestational age and that was at the end of the holiday season where my no-grains, no-sugar eating went totally off the rails!  If I remember correctly, his brother’s measurements ran a week big throughout the entire course of my pregnancy.  So, maybe Acorn is running a solid average size while the Stinkerdoodle tended to be bigger.  I’m hopeful that (a) that’s a trend that will continue and (b) that’s related at least in part to my current eating habits because then I can have some control over things!  Obviously, we won’t know until we meet Acorn in May but I figure that if there’s a chance that I can help keep his size to a much more reasonable 8 or 9 pounds then I’ll be one happy camper!

On Friday you will be 2 years old.  At your last birthday you weren’t even crawling yet, let alone walking!  And, yet, here you are, a walking, talking little person.  At your next birthday, you’ll be a big brother to a 8-month old little boy.  Those things alone are enough to make my head swirl!

Just after Christmas your father and I took you to your 2-year well child visit.  They confirmed what we suspected, you’re a big boy (90 – 95th percentile on height, weight, and head circumference) and that you’re very advanced verbally.  The doctor asked how many words you’re saying and we said that we’d lost count but that the longest utterance we’d heard thus far was 13 words.  Apparently, according to the developmental checklist they use to evaluate kids, you only have to have 6 intelligible words by age 2.  Um, yeah, got that covered.  As an aside, two days later you had a 17 word conversation with yourself that went something like this:  “I not sure [where] green car is.  Um, maybe [in] laundry basket.  That [where] green car is.  Mama get it!”

Helping to cook (aka scooping egg salad from one bowl to another)

The doctor also confirmed that you’re lagging ever so slightly – although not enough for concern – in the physical area (dressing self, running, etc.).  You know, one of the anxieties of parenthood that you’ve helped me let go of is the whole “Is my child developing as he should?” thing and, by extension, the tendency to compare my child’s development to other children.  You’ve helped me truly believe the “every child develops in their own way” mantra.  I, and your little brother (and any other possible future children), thank you for that!

It may look in this picture like you're actually reading but you're not, I swear! That's a bit advanced even for you!

You’ve had quite an eventful month!  Dada was home from December 23rd to January 3rd, which you loved.  You got lots of playtime with him.  Uncle Aaron, Grammy, and Grampy also came to visit for Christmas.  More people to play with, hooray!  You must have really enjoyed their visits because just a few days ago you asked me for, “More Uncle Aaron comin.’”  Sorry, kiddo, I can’t make that happen right now; Skype will have to suffice.  On top of all this fun, we went down to Grandmom and Grandpop’s house with everyone and had a Christmas Eve celebration with the Tryon side of the family.  You had a great time there, too.  All the fun, people in the house, new toys, etc. has kind of thrown you for a loop and your sleep has been pretty messed up.  It’s nothing that a week or two of getting back into your routine won’t fix, though!  At least, I certainly hope so!

Checking out the train, village, and construction site set up under Grandmom and Grandpop's Christmas tree

Over these busy couple of weeks you’ve had yet another cognitive leap.  Sheesh, kiddo!  Ya gotta slow down a little; those little brain cells must be working overtime!  You’ve been playing around with the ideas of size, specifically “teeny tiny” and “big big.”  Everything is the “teeny tiny Thomas” and the “big big Thomas” or “teeny tiny Nathan” and “big big Mama.”  It’s fun to watch you wrangle with the concept of comparative size.  At the same time, you’re working through things like using pronouns and articles appropriately.  You also are working on taking things you understand and expressing them in your own way.  For example, Dada and I have started limiting your binky use even more so that you only have it when you’re going to sleep (rather than our previous on the bed and in the car limits).  The first time we went out and you asked for it in the car I responded with, “The binky is all gone from the car, remember?”  At that point you started talking it through out loud.  You said something along the lines of “Mama said no talkin’ ’bout binky all gone from the car.    I can’t have binky.  Binky all gone.  Binky closed.”  For context, the “closed” reference refers to multiple conversations we’ve had in relation to the library being closed in the morning; that’s where you learned the concept.  A very creative use of the concept to understand the new binky rules!

Parking your tricycle (just like a car and totally without prompting) when you needed a break on one of our adventures around the parking lot

One of my favorite developments from this month is that you have totally upped your “snuggle quotient,” which is to say that you’ve really become a snuggle bug.  When you wake up in the morning, you like nothing better than snuggling in bed with Dada and I for half an hour or so.  Same thing happens when you wake up from nap on most days too.  Going to sleep we read books and then I snuggle you a while before putting you into your side car.  While we snuggle you put your head on my shoulder, your hand on my other shoulder (usually playing with my hair), and your belly to my belly.  We sing some songs, have some hugs, give kisses, and then into bed you go.  Well, in theory anyway.  In practice you usually ask for one more hug (or two or ten) and I cave to at least one more.  I mean, really, you’re getting so big so fast; who could resist a little snuggle on the lap time??

Waking Mama up from a quick snooze on the couch on Christmas Night. So sleeping when there's fun to be had, Mama!

On Friday you’ll turn two years old.  Saturday your Grandmom, Grandpop, and Great Aunt Tat will come to help you blow out the candles on your birthday cake.  On everyday your Dada and I will love you and love you and love you.

Love,

Mama

Helping around the house with one of your favorite Christmas gifts, your own vacuum cleaner!