Dutch Tanner, 9 months

Dear Dutch, 

You are 9 months old and I felt like I should write you a letter.  You, my son, are a dear sweet little boy.  You are very active and very happy.  

As of right now, you love two things in this mortal existence.  1.  Your mom and everything that that entails.  and 2. your sippy cup or bottle of water.  With either of those two things in your grasp, you are a happy boy.  

You like your sister, particularly when she shares her water bottle with you and when she leads you into dangerous situations which you know will get mom's goat.  You recognize and acknowledge your daddy.  Dad is almost always good for a laugh, and sometimes great to cuddle with when mom is otherwise occupied.  

You hate being put to bed.  I can't think of a time past 1 month of age when you were laid down to bed, still awake, that you did not protest.  You have also given me very few full nights of sleep.  But I love you anyway and I do secretly treasure our 3am breastfeeding and cuddle fest.  

You have two bottom teeth, which has contributed to making you have a very very soggy neckline.  

You crawl like a champ, you're going on your third month on those hands and knees of yours.  You have also (almost) mastered a bear crawl when out on unfriendly ground (grass and concrete).  You love cruising and you are going to be a toddler any minute now.    Too soon my son, too soon.

We call you Dutchy-boy most of the time.  You like it.  You're also our little Dutcharoo, you love to jump jump jump.

We love you and we are so glad you joined our family.  

Modest is hottest, and a new detest for The Today Show

While getting ready this morning at the gym, The Today Show was on the TV., the topic peeked my interest as they were talking about  N.J. Middle School Principal is not allowing girls to wear strapless dresses to their annual 8th grade dance.  The headline was "No Straps, No Dance" he says that the strapless dresses are not appropriate for young girls and are distracting to the hormonal boys.
My thought was WOW Good for him!! How refreshing to hear that someone is standing up for modesty in some way.  In a world that is drastically declining in morals, it's always nice to hear that someone is trying to keep kids a little more pure and innocent.  I do not look forward to the battle that I will be facing when teaching my little girl to dress modestly despite of fashions, trends, what her friends are wearing, etc...In fact I hope that my daughter is easier on me than I was on my parents.
Well, Hoda and Kathie Lee did not share my same sentiments, Hoda first very sarcastically questioned how it would be any better to be strapless than have some itsy tiny piece of fabric going over the shoulders, and Kathie Lee said something to the effect that she has noticed how very short formal dresses have become and what the kids should do is cut their dress off so that it barely covers their bottoms and use that fabric to cover their shoulders.
Seriously ladies?  You really think it's better to encourage girls to go out clothed in as little as possible? They even dared to declare that among the same styles (strapless, short) that there's a difference between classy and trashy.  My question is how?  What or when is it different?  The amount of sparkles? Buttons? The shoes that accompany the dress? Hairstyle?
Well, I guess everyone is entitled to their opinion, and I have mine, and my daughter will not where strapless dress, or shirts for that matter, ever (not with my permission at least) because the bottom line is that it's not modest and I want her to learn to respect herself and know that she doesn't have to look sexy to be beautiful.
Again, I applaud you Mr. Principal for trying to defend modesty in some way (if that's what you were doing, at least let me at least imagine that was your motive).

taking advantage

We all have been guilty of milking sympathy when a wound isn't so bad.  

Children especially seem to like to keep crying when it doesn't really hurt anymore just because they're getting some attention. 

But I'll admit, that sometimes when Gracie gets hurt and she comes crying to me, I'll be the one who's milking it just so that she'll keep cuddling with me, even though she and I both know she's not hurt anymore.  I just want more snuggles.  

I think I just accidently admitted that I like it when my daughter gets (mildly) hurt. 

ready stop!

There's a little trend going on Facebook that I find incredibly obnoxious.  Sorry (but not really sorry) if you do or have done this...
Person asks a question (ie where's the best place to get a haircut?) and ends with.. "Ready, GO!"
As if we're all just chomping at the bit, scraping at the start line, begging for you to ask your question so that we can all race to be the first one to answer.

It's pretentious
It's annoying
Please stop.

No one likes to be rushed into anything, and no one likes to be told what to do, especially when it's something they would already do on their own, I think that's why I find this trend so distasteful.  I'll answer your question if I have an answer, but when I'm told to hurry up and GO, then I tend to think you're full of yourself and I'm no longer interested in helping.

Maybe it's just me and maybe I'm about to lose some friends because I just told you that you're bugging me. Either way, please stop.


Grievance aired.

no love lost

We've all read those posts from parents saying that their sweet child told mommy that she looked pretty, or she's a princess, or so cute, beautiful etc..

here's a little conversation I had with my daughter...

While coming home from the gym we ran into our mail lady who commented, Sabrina you look really good.  (thanks mail lady :) )  

When we came in the house Gracie said, "mommy, she say you look cute?"  

Mom-  Yes Gracie, she said i look cute

Gracie - (eye roll) "Eghh.."

thanks for being honest dear daughter. 

Teaching failure.

In church today I was trying to teach Gracie to (at least) whisper if she was going to talk.  We had this conversation:

Gracie:  Mommy Mommy blah blah blah
Me:  Gracie please whisper
Gracie: No - blah blah blah
Me: Gracie, look around the room, all the people are being quiet and they only whisper when they talk because we're trying to be reverent and listen to that lady up front. Do you see her talking up at the front?
Gracie: Yes, blah blah
Me: Well, we need to be quiet and reverent so everyone can listen to her, ok?
Gracie:  RUFF RUFF RUFF, Mommy I'm RUFFING!  Ruff Ruff Ruff Ruff

This week

We took Gracie to the ER for the 2nd time this month.  Luckily we have a children's hospital close enough that we go there, and they know how to work with kids and calm her down enough to do what they need to.    Can't complain about that.
1st time, Sprained ankle.
2nd time Croup - when they told us she had croup we rejoiced, not the usual reaction from most parents but it's better than asthma which is what we were afraid she might have.

Gracie has started a new game that I do not love, she calls it Grasshopper and she jumps over her brother when he's lying on the floor.  I don't know when she's ever seen or learned about a grasshopper, but I think that part is cute, the jumping over her brother is scary and I try to stop her every time.

I found some icky stuff in Dutch's mouth.  He has figured out that he can suck on his toes. The icky in his mouth was the lint from his socks.  When you suck on toes, sometimes you get the jam too.  Toe-Jam, yum.

Looks like I'm going to have to get Gracie a jump rope, another thing that I don't know how or where she learned, but she started trying to use our power cords as jump ropes (and she knew to call it a jump rope).  Power cords, not the safest toy.

At Dutch's 4 month appointment we discovered that he's not the chubster that we thought he was, he's dropped from the 50th percentile in weight and height to the 25th, his head was always 25th, and still is.  He's perfectly proportionate, but on the small side.  Baby boy doesn't like to finish his cream.

reminder to myself

The snow storm kept me from going anywhere today.
This mostly means that I couldn't go to the gym which is where I generally collect my sanity.  I decided that I would dust off an old workout DVD so I could still sweat out the bad in me so that I'll be nice to my kids the rest of the day. 
When I brought up the stepper and weights Gracie got all excited, "exercise exercise! yay" and I thought maybe this will be fun, she'll exercise along like a little mini me.  The first 5 minutes was fun.  She tried to follow along with the warm up and stretches, it was really cute watching her balance and tap her little toe.  Then she got her toys to come exercise with us, and my already cramped space became even more cramped and Gracie was no longer exercising with me, she was playing at my feet, pushing me, pulling me, climbing on me, and yelling at me. No longer fun.  
I kept trying to tough it out and just work around her, and her toys, while constantly kicking them out of the way... this went on for 37 minutes until I was no longer being productive and Gracie and I were just mad at each other.
Also, I got bored with the DVD, it's hard to be motivated to work hard in your own living room when there's more fun things to do, like make the baby boy smile. 

A nice reminder that it's worth it to pay too much to go to a gym with classes and a child care.   

(and just a little icing on the cake, after I gave up the endeavor, Gracie said, "Mommy, can we go to the gym?")

Snow, Please Go Away.
 

sick stats

Last night Gracie went through 4 pairs of pajamas, got her bed changed 3 times and took 2 baths.  

The great thing about Gracie being sick is that she is super cuddly and affectionate. 
The bad thing about Gracie being sick is that she is super cuddly and affectionate. 

As much as I love the hugs, kisses and snuggles, I'd rather not have them paired up with a face covered in snot and throw-up breath. 

Good thing I have a she-lion of an immune system and rarely does anything get past.

some woes of a breastfeeding mother

I've got a list a mile long of things I need or want to do to prepare for Christmas,
A sick and stressed out husband trying hard to prepare for his last final for the semester,
An extremely head strong stubborn (and also slightly sick) two year old who wants to only eat pancakes, ice cream and cereal,
A sick coughing, stuffy nosed baby who just wants his mommy to hold him,
And a mail lady who lectures me about my parenting - that I should lay my baby down and let him cry by himself and I am not eating healthy enough - which is why he's sick.

I'm just going to smile to myself and laugh a little.

Also, if you were wondering why you 're not getting a Christmas card, it's not because I don't eat enough vitamin C.  Just sayin'.

keeping a two year old busy

Gracie did this all by herself.  I figure it beats letting her watch cartoons. And at least baby brother didn't get thrown in the middle of the room, she generously let him stay in the swing.

cowkids

Here's Cowgirl Jesse

And Cowboy Woody

They're both pretty cute.

3 weeks

Dutch Tanner is 3 weeks old today.  And I ran 3 miles to celebrate.  Yay for both of us. 
He's also gained almost 3 lbs.  ok, not really, but as of 3 days ago he weighed 9 lbs, he's quite the little chubster.  We love to kiss him.

look at those cheeks!

Daddy and sister celebrated with fireworks!

look how strong he is, he really is good at holding his head up high

Dutch Tanner de Jong, 9/17/2012 - 6:55am

I gave birth to a beautiful baby boy.

The war story happened like this:
Sunday night, September 16th, I was admitted to the hospital, 41 weeks pregnant, to be induced a little before 9:00pm.  Around 9:45 they inserted a cervical catheter balloon thing because I wasn't dilated enough, because he still hadn't dropped - the kid was still in my ribs.  They also started a low dosage of pitocin at that time.  I spent an hour standing and rocking myself, or sitting and rocking on the birthing ball.  We entertained ourselves by watching Seinfeld episodes (perfect labor entertainment).
At 11:00pm the nurse checked my cervical balloon and it came right out, which meant I was at a 3-4cm and received a higher dosage of pitocin, which started some serious painful cramps.  After a few more hours of standing, marching, rocking and bouncing, I couldn't stand it anymore and got an epidural around 3:45am (I was then dilated to a 6).  I got about 15 minutes of sleep, then my blood pressure monitor kept beeping every 15 minutes because my blood pressure was about 2 points too low (so annoying!).  A little before 6:00am my nurse came in to check me and I was mostly dilated, but he was face up so she put me in different positions to try to get him to turn around.  At 6:30am she checked me again and I was fully dilated, but Dutch was still up in my ribs.  The nurse said to go ahead and start pushing him down.  At that point I was worried that it would be a long morning of pushing, and I was exhausted from a sleepless night.  The epidural had largely worn off and I hurt.  I pushed my guts out to get that kid out!  When he started crowning they told me he had hair, which made me smile.  When he moved down a little more the doctor said, "Oh, he's going to be a big one" (I have no idea how they can tell that so soon, because his head doesn't look very large to me).  When his head came out, they told me to stop pushing because his umbilical cord was wrapped tightly around his neck.  He was completely blue in the face and they had to cut the cord immediately right there.  After they cut the cord, two more pushes and he was out at 6:55am.  25 minutes total pushing time.  I must say, I was pretty darn proud of myself, especially for having had to push him all the way down, plus being a larger baby - and, by the way, I don't remember it hurting that much with Gracie, I'll admit there was a bit of yelling and demanding water between pushes.  8 lbs, 20.25 inches.  And, best of all, I didn't tear, no stitches!  Yay! 
Dutch came out looking pretty purple, but still beautiful.  We love him so much and are so grateful that he has finally joined our family. 
I felt really well in the hospital and they let me go home a day early, which was great.  But now, every muscle is sore and I feel like I got hit by a train. 
But, on the bright side, I really love having my bladder back. 

First Family photo

Just a couple minutes old

Love at first sight

My handsome guys

In other news, just because I don't want to forget this bit of cuteness:
Gracie has taken to talking and giggling herself to sleep.  I enjoy sitting outside her door and listening to her play in the dark.  I love that girl. 

Get out of my belly!

We've checked into the hospital for my scheduled induction.  Little boy is 1 week late, more according to our preference.
They started the pitocin  around 9:45pm. 
We're hoping this goes quickly. 

Due date Schmoo date

In school and work we learn the importance of due dates, don't turn your work in on time by the due date, you get in trouble.
But those due dates deal with things we can actually control.
Why do we put a magical date telling a baby that he's supposed to now emerge from mama's comfy belly.
Babies know how to eat, eliminate, sleep, cry and let's also say cuddle (because everyone knows they're good at it even if they don't mean to be).
So here's a phrase that super bothers me.  "your baby will come when he's ready."  Really?  My baby knows when he's done cookin'?  How about we just admit that we can't control nature and leave it at that.  I guess it just sounds cuter, or more motherly?
Because here's the deal, if my baby is still kicking my ribs and punching my bladder just because he hasn't decided to come out of hiding, then that kid is in big trouble and will be getting a spanking* when he does man up and decide to show his face (that's right buddy, you better be scared, because mama's getting mad).


Induction scheduled for Sunday night the 16th, expected delivery to be Monday September 17th, so stop asking if he's come yet, trust me, I'll be joyfully advertising if I actually go into labor by myself.



*don't worry, I won't punish my newborn child for being late, please refrain from preemptively calling Child Protective Services.

huge

It's a good thing that I really like being pregnant.
I like my big belly, and I feel pretty good, for the most part (mostly when I'm sitting comfortably)
If I didn't enjoy this time in life then I may be offended by the comments that people loving give, such as:

Stranger:  You're due any day now, right? 
Me: No, I have 3 more months
Stranger:  Oh, so you're having twins?
Or
Stranger: Let me guess, your due date was yesterday.
Me: No, I have another month.
Stranger: Oh wow, (yells to her friend - "she has another month!")  Must be a big baby then!

 I have a general rule for myself- I never ask someone about their apparently pregnant belly unless they bring the topic up themselves. 
Which also reminds me of a funny comment, that was overheard by a friend at our local water park (quick background info - pregnant women are not allowed on water slides, I disregard that rule when I feel like I can get away with it).   Skylar and I went down a water slide, then our friends behind us overheard this conversation between the lifegaurds:
Wait, was she pregnant?
I don't know, but it's not like you can ask, that's just rude.
Right, it could be some kind of tumor or something.


 So here's me with my tumor or something at 36 weeks:
(I don't know why I chose to take my picture right after a workout, let's blame pregnant brain on that one)

Belly looks like it should just fall down doesn't it?

And a close up of the gianormity

OMPB

[Oh my Pregnant Brain!] 

Pregnant Brain - The condition in which a women fat with child can no longer remember or think clearly.
 
I can't completely deny that I had PB with my first child,  but I do remember being skeptical when women blamed their blunders on their supposed pregnant brain (even after their child was 3 years old in some cases).  puh-leeeze, just admit you're a ditz...
When I mention to my husband that I don't think I had PB with our daughter, he usually mumbles something barely audible, or gives me a pity smirk - not very reassuring. 
However, with this boy that I'm carrying around in my belly, I definitely feel like my brain has turned to straw. I can never remember a time when I was so forgetful, but that probably doesn't say much since I can't remember anything, or think clearly.
I mentioned on FB a while ago that I forgot to get dressed for a while after the shower, I blame that one partly on the summer heat, good thing no one came to the door - I like to think I would have realized my current condition. 
One morning my husband told me that he was fasting that day, something I can't currently do (without complaint).  While actively thinking about my husband's fast, I simultaneously started making him scrambled eggs and a smoothie.   See what I mean?  This brain is lame.
 I sure hope the fuzziness comes into focus again after I give birth, I'm going to need to be even sharper than before with two babes. 
However, despite the fact that I get annoyed with myself for not having a brain anymore, I am lucky in the way that I don't get very sick while pregnant, my baby isn't pressing on any crazy painful nerves, I can still taste food normally, I (used to) still have enough energy to workout, I haven't started retaining water in a ridiculous way, and I'm sure the list goes on but I can't think of anymore right now - for the most part, I feel healthy and normal(ish) minus the giant beach ball under my skin and the constant jabs from the alien life-form invading that beach ball belly.

We've been going swimming a lot lately...

So I've just got a question, do any of you still pee in the pool?

 Here's an anonymous survey link where you can answer instead of leaving me a comment (unless you're brave - but I will post anonymous responses if they're entertaining enough, I'll also give the final verdict)
or copy paste this:  http://www.surveymonkey.com/s/GWXNYDR

Ever heard the myth of the dye in a swimming pool that makes the surrounding water purple when urine hits it, so that everyone knows who the culprit is, thus embarrassing them enough to never going swimming again?  Yea, I don't think that exists.  But I'll tell you what does exist, very very bright yellow tinkle in shallow waters does not get camouflaged.  If you're going to leak in the public waters, please make sure that your peepee is diluted enough so that no one else knows what you're doing, or take your business to deeper waters.
Thanks.

And PS - my answer would be yes, I never grew up I guess- and I still think it's funny.

love

I wasn't going to buy Gracie the little doggy she found at the yard sale, but she was carrying it around everywhere, then she started reading books to the little doggy, then she found a little shopping cart and pushed the little doggy around, and I couldn't help myself any longer.  Hopefully when I put batteries in it, it will walk and bark, but I don't think that's going to matter.  Gracie hugged that puppy the whole way home, singing to it "cute cute puppy, I love you, cute puppy cute puppy I love you."
When we got home she found her dalmatian puppy and made the two snuggle together.  Then she put her new puppy down for nigh night after giving it a bottle.

Having a (almost) 2 year old is so fun and cute (most of the time)

Excited about her new puppy!