Mr. Fatty Fatterson

I have a cat named Elvis... he is beautiful and we love him.  But he has a weight issue.  He actually doesn't eat that much, so I think it's actually a thyroid issue.  Do cats have thyroids?

Anyway, this is Elvis...

Isn't he pretty?  I call him Fatty Fatterson... but I call him that with all the love and affection in the world.  He is a very loveable cat!  Except he's loveable the way most cats are... on his own terms.  For instance... if you were to try to pet the top of his head, he would probably scrunch down on the floor as far as possible before fleeing the room.  Unless you're Gracie, in which case, bring it on.

He loves Gracie!  He loves her so much that Gracie has had to yell at him a few times.  Elvis loves to lay down where Gracie is playing, and as soon as she tries to move, he gets up, runs in front of where she's trying to walk and lays back down.  Gracie tries to go around him, but he keeps running in front of her and laying down directly in her path.  There have been a few times when Gracie just looks at him and goes "aaaahhhhhhh!!!!!!" I can't blame her really, she can't outrun the cat yet!  But for the most part, it's a love-love relationship.  When Gracie sees him she always runs right up, lays on top of him (she thinks it's a hug) and goes "awwwwwa."

Hugs and Snuggles for Elvis

Elvis doesn't realize he has a weight issue... he will crawl on top of things half his size and expect to lay there comfortably for hours.  He has jumped onto the back of a chair once, only to have the thing go spinning in circles and almost throw him off (don't worry, he hung on tight).  His most common feat is to try to jump onto the window ledge in our bedroom, only to bounce off the window and land back on the bed.  And one night, a couple years ago, while we were eating dinner we heard a very pathetic "mew" coming from the living room.  We went into the living room to find our cat had somehow managed to to get himself onto the curtain rod at the top of our big bay window.  Lord knows he got up there, but we knew if we didn't get him down ourselves, and quick, he would bring the whole thing down with him.  As it was, the anchors had ripped out of the wall and the rod was teetering precariously towards the floor.   I don't know what in the world made him think that was a good idea, but he has never tried it since!

Elvis and Gracie - just chillin!

Gracie made Elvis a new hat!

Elvis likes to lay on anything new.  We can drop a dirty pair of underwear on the way to the laundry and he will claim it is as his fantastic new sleeping area for the next few hours.  You name it, boxes, clothes, toys, blankets, bags, if it hasn't been on the floor before, and it is now, then Elvis will sleep on it!   Lately, since being pregnant, Elvis has taken a liking to my belly.  I don't know if it's the movement, or the fact that it's "new" too, but I will wake up in the middle of the night with this enormous pressure on my chest/belly and hear "prrrrrrrrrrrrrrr, prrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr, prrrrrrrrrrrrrr, prrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr."   If I try to roll over to get him off me, Elvis pretends he's straddling a barrel, and just like on Wipeout, takes up position on my back without ever having stepped off my body.  I don't know if you know, but having a baby sleep on your lungs makes it difficult to breathe.  Add an Elvis on top of that... oye!  And every morning when I get up Elvis is ready for me.  He races me out the bedroom door and into the kitchen, where I always go first to turn on the light, then I turn around and head to the bathroom, and this cat (who normally wouldn't move out of the way for anybody or anything) is thump, thump, thumping his way ahead of me into the bathroom.  No matter how fast I try to make it there, or how quickly I try to close the door, I always end up with company getting ready for work.

We love Elvis, he is a great source of entertainment for us adults, and a lovely companion for Gracie.  As I write this, he is laying on the couch above my head, purring away!

Here's a video for you... if you have ever owned a cat, you will truly appreciate the hilarity in this video! Make sure you turn the volume up... and enjoy! :)

I'm growing a little person, so don't make me eat you...

I'm not getting fat, I'm growing a little person.  While I was pregnant with Gracie, I had to remind myself of this sometimes.  It's hard to watch the scale go up, and up, and up, and not freak out a little.  You're always a little obsessed about the amount of weight you put on... because of course, what goes up must come down.  And the higher you go up, the harder you have to work to get it to come back down.  Let me apologize in advance to my other mommy's-to-be (namely, Allison), because I know talking about cravings, and food in general, only makes other pregnant women then want that food too! :)

I have always said that pregnancy is not an excuse to eat for two.  You're only "allowed" an extra 300 calories a day... that's equivalent to something like a banana and a small bowl of yogurt.  Yummmm.... so it's not exactly the splurge most people envision.  I really do try hard to just eat normally when I'm pregnant.  I add a little extra fibre, a little more veggies, but that's about it.  Cravings weren't an issue with Gracie.  Not really, anyway.  A few things here and there.  But there are times when eating for two is necessary... like when I freaking want to!!!  

This baby, I have discovered, is sucking the life energy from me.  And the only way to feel better sometimes is with food.  I'm exhuasted... so even though I spent the last 30 minutes making delicious (and healthy) quinoa burgers, mustard baked chicken, sweet potato fries, broiled fish, or cauliflower pancakes, what I really want is french fries.  I'm too tired to pretend to enjoy that healthy crap this time around.  So feed me my french fries gosh darn it!  I'm growing a little person after all!!

After my doctor's appointment this week, the doctor has decided to put me back on iron supplements.  I'm slightly anemic.  I'm not surprised.  I don't really eat meat when I'm pregnant.  Unless it's a big, fat, juicy steak, or unless it used to be attached to a chicken's armpit and is now fried and dipped in buffalo sauce!  So the fact that I have now been officially diagnosed anemic again just means more steak and chicken wings for me.  Well, the chicken wings might not help, but don't tell my baby that, she wants them! :)

Growing a little person is hard!  Over the past few months, I've helped this little baby grow ears, eyes, arms, legs, hair (pretty please), heart, brain, and probably a giant attitude too. I've been lugging around an extra 2 pounds, then 5, then 10, then 15, then 20.  And with 11 weeks to go, that number is just going to go up.  Carrying around that extra weight is more than enough of an excuse, every now and then, to splurge on what you really want.  So, if I want to eat my 5th can of Pringles this week, or an entire bag of Doritos, I'm gonna!!!  It's true, I will feel guilty about it.  And probably cry because I gave in... because I'm weaker this baby.  My emotions are all over the place, work is driving me crazy, the house is nowhere near ready yet (stay tuned for those posts, yeesh!), and I may kill someone, just because I can. 

So go ahead and call me the crazy pregnant lady.  Lecture me about how I don't really need all those extra snacks... how it's all in my head.  Send me articles about healthy eating while pregnant.  But get the hell out of my way, because I'm growing a little person... and I'm heading for the snack cupboard.  And, so help me, if you get in my way, I may chew off your arm - after dipping it in buffalo sauce first, of course.

Watermelon, the Zoo, and another Stellar Mommy Moment!

It's not quite summer yet... but lately, it has definitely felt like it! 

On Sunday I bought a nice juicy watermelon, Gracie's first.  She loves it!!  We put a bib on her while I fed her on the kitchen floor, but it didn't really help.  She leans over a little bit, and it all drips on the floor.  That's what paper towel is for! :) 

It was a super-juicy watermelon, and two pieces weren't quite enough for her.  She threw quite the fit when we put it away.  She loves to pick up the seeds too and crunch on them.  I think watermelon will be a summer-long treat... although maybe we'll feed it to her outside! :)

 

We've also spent a couple of days at the zoo, which Gracie absolutely adores!  She went on her first pony ride, and I thought she might freak out a little when we started moving... not at all!  Not even when the horse started neighing and jerked its head a little.  She just laughed and said "naaaaaaah." - That's neigh, in baby-speak, in case you didn't know!

She was a little disapointed I think that they only went around once... she would have loved to go round and round all day.  But we moved on to the monkeys, who haven't made a fuss yet when Gracie's around, so she doesn't care about them yet.  They're my personal favourite, and I can't wait for them to get all loud and bothered when we're around.

Graice loves to feed the animals.  We try to give her corn out of the machines, but before I get a chance, she's already picking it up off the ground.  So I figure we may as well save ourselves the quarters and let her be thrifty! :)

She doesn't even flinch when she puts her hands near their mouths.  She even had an eager little goat bite her fingers once... she just laughed!  I can tell you though, that when Gracie has a hard time differentiating between corn on the ground and rocks, the animals are not impressed!

After spending an hour or so wandering around, we decide to have a little sit-down before heading home.  Gracie chased the dogs around, and tried to pet the cats, and dad had an icecream cone.  We had some grapes for Gracie to eat, and it was around then that another of my infamous "mommy moments" snuck into our lives.  After feeding goats, and deer, did we wash Gracie's hands before letting her pop a couple of grapes into her mouth??  Ummm... yes?  That's going to be my official answer.  And please know, that I have since added soap-free hand wash to her diaper bag!

Here's our little monkey!

Counting toes, tickles, and belly laughs

Gracie is growing up.  I know that, obviously.  But sometimes, it catches me off guard.  She likes to count now... she counts her fingers, one by one, and she loves to count the birds in her books.  Obviously, she doesn't know her numbers yet, but she gets the concept of counting.  She even says, "one, one, one, six, seven."  She's said "four" before and every now and then we get a "nine."  It's not in order, it's not even close to being right, but it sure is cute!

Another thing that surprises me sometimes is how many words that little girl knows.  We always try to teach her new words, "that's a bird, Gracie.  Say bird."  But most of the time it comes out "meh?"  We bought Gracie new shoes for Easter... a pair of sandles and a pair of shoes with rubber soles (she actually wore out the last pair she had).  She loooooves shoes!  She is obsessed with her sandles and cries when we take them off her.  And now she even says, "soooes?  soooes?"  I'm pretty sure that's her equivalent of shoes.  She also says up, dog, cat, cheese, bird, ticka-ticka (tickle), and the basics too, mom, dad, nanny, poppy.  She still struggles with Grampy.  That's a hard one I think.  She also knows her baby sister's name.  But she wont tell you! :)

By the way, it's nice to write a blog that doesn't involve Gracie's attitude... but I have to say, when I was on Pinterest the other day, I found the perfect definition of Gracie.  It may go up on the wall in her new bedroom, I haven't decided yet.

Girl (n),

Sweetness with a sprinkle of attitude.

I also love the boy one... if I have a boy next, it's totally going on the wall of his room!

Boy (n),

Noise, with dirt on it.

I love them both, they are so true! :)

Here's another video of her.  She and dad were having a good time.

I love the belly laugh!  How can you not laugh when a baby is laughing?  It's impossible!  Just the sound of a baby laughing will make anyone smile and immediately improve their day!

That's all for now... until the next "sprinkle of attitude" comes along! :)

I'm a Scary Mommy!

I found this article today while "working."  Okay, so maybe I was taking a 10-minute break and was surfing the internet for things to keep me sane.  Today was the holy-crapola of all days, and I needed the break... don't judge!  Whatever the reasons, I found this article and read it, and loved it! :) 

My favourite part was where she called her son an asshole!  It made me gasp for a half a second when I first read it, but then I laughed... cause I kind of did the same thing the other day! 

I've talked a little bit about Gracie's attitude, but I haven't had the opportunity (or the balls) to update you on how bad that little girl's attitude has gotten.  There have been days in the last couple of weeks that I've seriously thought I was crazy for having another girl!  Gracie doesn't just grunt now... she struts and grunts.  She will walk away from you, grunting the whole way, and when you try to talk to her, "Gracie, come here please..." she will keep walking, swinging one arm really high, then stop, turn and look at you over one shoulder, blink her eyes very slowly, and grunt.  Now if that isn't attitude!! 

The only thing that's keeping me sane lately is convincing myself that because she can't quite communicate yet, there's no reasoning with her, so it`s not really her fault she can`t express herself.  But I know, deep down, Gracie communicates quite well.  She knows exactly what she's doing when she grunts.  She knows how bad it frustrates us when you are trying to talk to her and she closes her eyes and pretends you aren't there.  She knows how much it irritates us when she turns her back and refuses to look at us when we're talking.  She's only 14 months... and that little girl communicates exactly what she thinks!  The walk is what gets me... so much attitude in such tiny little steps!  I really have to videotape it and share it with you!

Anyway, after a particularly heinous day on Monday (I blame it on the fact that she ate junk this weekend and Grampy and Nanny went home), we finally got her down for her nap and I said to Danny, "that little girl is being such a shit head today."  I felt a little guilty about it.  But it was true!  Brat is another word I could have used... but I don't really like it.  Shit head described her behaviour perfectly. 

When I dropped her off at the sitter's yesterday, I warned her about the behaviour.  We correct Gracie's bad behaviour, and I didn't want Nancy to be caught off guard by her "angel" and let her get away with anything!  When Danny picked her up yesterday, I'm pretty sure, for the first time, Nancy was shooing her out the door... I'm not going to lie, it felt so good to hear from Nancy how bad Gracie behaved that day.  At least she doesn't save up all that attitude just for us! :)  Nancy was shocked I think, since she usually just nods and giggles at me when I describe Gracie's attitude and always tells us how good she is.  I felt vidicated.  See, I'm not the only one who thought she was acting like a shit head!  Although Nancy would never say something like that... she's a much better person than me, she would say "spirited" or "energetic" or something not so bad like that!

Anyway, you should read the article... I felt much better today after I read it.  It made me brave enought to admit that I referred to my daughter as a shit head.  And come on, admit it, you've done it too!! :)

http://today.msnbc.msn.com/id/46942778/ns/today-books/t/confessions-scary-mommy-honest-look-motherhood/

Sleeping Beauties

Danny is not a morning person.  He likes to sleep.  When life requires him to be up early, he functions quite well and can manage the early mornings.  But those mornings must be pre-planned, with plenty of warning to him.  Like work... he knows the days he has to work and is prepared to wake up early for that.  Mind you, the shift he is on now doesn't start until 11, so even work doesn't get him out of bed early anymore.  His wife gets him out of bed early.  Very rarely though.  We have an understanding, Danny and I.  I don't do late nights, he doesn't do early mornings.  This means that when new babies come along, I go to bed at 8:00 and wake up only for feedings, and he sleeps until 9 or 10 in the morning.  This works for us, because I am totally a morning person.  I jump up, wide awake, and I'm ready to go.  I'm friendly, I'm talkative, and most importantly, I'm actually awake. 

Danny is a bear in the morning.  When I do need him to get up early, I have to warn him a full 24 hours in advance, if possible.  I usually remind him once or twice before we go to bed, then in the morning I get up first, make him coffee, set it down beside him, shake him a little, whisper that it's time to get up, and back slowly out of the room.  I usually leave the bedroom door open so the noise of the house will keep him awake.  Once he's up and moving, it usually stays pretty quiet in our house for a full hour.  He doesn't talk much, doesn't interact a whole lot.  It's hard for me... cause I like to talk, and I don't understand how you can wake up cranky.  He insists he's not cranky, he's just not awake.  So I don't understand how you can wake up and not be awake.  But that's how we're different!  He doesn't understand how, on a Friday night, I'm ready to drop dead by 9:00... "but Sammy, it's Friday!!" he says.  I say, "but Danny, it's Friday!!"  Our points of view differ on energy levels on Friday nights too! :)

I have to admit, he is much, much better now that we have Gracie.  The wake-up process has been slimmed down to 15-30 minutes, tops.  About 2 months ago I got bored on Saturday mornings with just Gracie and I playing in the living room, waiting for dad to wake up at 10:00, so we made a deal that he gets up at 8:00 on Saturday mornings with me.  It's not a bad deal, since he works shift work and gets 4 days off at a time... it's not like I'm taking away one whole day of his weekend!  And we've started getting the grocery shopping and errands finished by 11:00 and we have the rest of the day to relax and play. 

I know I've mentioned this before, but it amazes me how much Gracie is like her father.  Their personalities are so much alike it's frightening... although I can't complain too much about Danny's personality, I obviously enjoy it enough to have married him! :)  The sleeping thing is another way they are very much alike! 

I don't know if you've heard, but Gracie has always been a fantastic sleeper.  The first night we brought her home from the hospital, she slept for nearly 6 hours straight (and scared the bejeezus out of me at the same time).  She continued to sleep for 6-hours stretches that very quickly turned to 8 hours, 10 hours, then 14 hours.  She's down to 12-13 hours now at night.  7:00-7:30ish.  Except during the week, when I have to leave to work by 7:20 and she needs to get up at 6:45 to get ready so I can drop her off at the sitters on my way to work.

She's a cranky little bugger when I wake her up.  She's a lot like her dad.  She grunts.  She refuses to stand up in her crib so I can pick her up.  She throws her toys.  She grunts some more.  Sometimes she very dramatically throws herself back down on the bed and and growls at me.  I'm sure she doesn't really mean to growl, but that's what it sounds like.  I eventually get her up, and she cries the whole time I change her.  It's not really crying... it's the kind of cry where you know she's faking and she's just pissed at you.  When I get her dressed she gets mad if her arm doesn't go into the arm hole perfectly the first time.  And she grunts some more. I take her to the kitchen where she has her breakfast (cheerios and milk).  And if I don't already have them laid out for her and ready to eat, she grunts and cries some more.  If people are visiting, and they try to say good morning to her, she covers her hands with her face and grunts extra loud!  And heaven forbid if I try to talk to her... "Gracie, did you sleep well?"  "urrrngh."  "Are you excited to go to Nancy's this morning?" "URRRRrrngh."  "Do you want some more cheerios?" "URRRRRRNGHHHHH."

Unless this next baby is going to turn out more like me, I guess I'll just have to accept that nobody in my household is a morning person like me.  I need to just let the sleeping beauties adjust to the daylight and come out of their shells in the morning, and let them sleep in whenever possible.  Hmmm... this is not looking too good for my Mother's Day breakfasts-in-bed!  Oh well, at least the cat is friendly in the morning! :)

Hello stranger! Would you like to touch my belly?

I actually love being pregnant... I feel great (for the most part), I don't get many aches and pain, my husband is incredibly supportive, and watching the belly grow is kinda amazing!  That being said, there are some things about pregnancy that always make me question, just for a second, what the heck women are thinking!  There are also things that happen (many more things, actually) that make me question what the heck these non-pregnant people are thinking.

I'll start with the most obvious... because I think it happens to everybody who carries a baby.  When it happened to me when I was pregnant with Gracie, I was stunned.  I didn't know what to do, I didn't know what to say.  So I'll say it now... what in the world would possess you to reach out and touch the belly of a person you don't know?  It was a Sunday morning, and I was at our Sunday School hall, and I had just finished setting up and getting ready for classes when it happened to me.  All of my teachers were in class, so there was no one to even intervene.  I know most of the kids (and their parents) by name, but this was my first time meeting this particular parent.  She introduced herself by walking over and saying "oh my gosh, look at your belly, it's so cute."  And she put her hand on it.  That was weird enough for me.  But then she started to tell me all about her two pregnancies and how difficult they were... all with her hand on my belly.  It was around a 5-minute conversation.  I backed up a couple of times, and she followed with her hand out.  At one point she said, "oh I just felt her kick."  Fantastic!  This stranger had felt the baby kick before Danny had.  I would just like to say, I mostly don't mind people touching the belly.  Especially friends and family.  Old women at grocery stores are okay too.  But for goodness sakes, boundaries people!!

My next favourite pregnancy experience... the "whoa you're huge" experience.  This one's pretty obvious.  It's when you walk into a room and people stare and point and say "whoa, you're huge!"  Really?  Huge?  I hadn't noticed.  No, seriously... I just thought my toes miraculously got 4 inches shorter... that's why I can't see them anymore, obviously!  And really, the fact that when I drop money I refuse to pick it up unless it's made of paper... that's because I'm lazy, not huge!  The fact that I sleep with 74 pillows now, instead of 2... purely comfort driven.  The fact that strange people come up and touch my belly... it's because I'm just that damn sexy!  Please believe me that every pregnant woman knows how huge they are!  You want to call me huge?  Try this one, "whoa, those boobies are huge!"  Damn straight! :)

Which leads me to my next one... the "whoa, I'm huge" experience.  That's when we catch ourselves in a mirror, or notice we've somehow picked up that waddle, or we've dropped a quarter on the floor.  We know how huge we are, but sometimes it still catches us off guard.  The other day I was in church and we have these "fantastic" new chairs instead of pews, with kneelers on them.  I realized that the next 4 months at church aren't going to be easy for me... because I don't fit on the kneeler.  There's no where for this belly to go.  That was a little "whoa" experience for me.  And 3 months ago, I used to invite Gracie over to pat my belly and show her where the baby is.  Now she walks right up, lifts up my shirt, points and says "what's that?"  Then she sticks her belly out as far it will go.  I get it Gracie, I get it!  This week I'm dealing with the expanding rib cage problem.  It was the only part of my last pregnancy that really bothered me, and it's that time again.  I'm getting "whoa" huge quickly, and the skin at the top of my belly and between my ribs feels like a constant indian burn.  I know that's not a politically correct term, but that's what it was called growing up, and the only way to describe how it really feels.  Like a fire, 24 hours a day.  Whoa!  This ever-expanding rib problem also leads me to walk around with one hand above my head, sleep sitting up, and drive with one hand on the roof of the car.  It's really fun. :)

One thing that kind of goes along with the "whoa, I'm huge experience" is the eating.  I have to admit, with Gracie I barely had a craving.  I sent Danny out once or twice, mostly because I felt I had to take advantage of that God-given right to make him go.  This time... oh my.  I want food.  I want food all the time.  I try to wait 3 days before giving into a craving, just to see if it will go away.  But if I'm still craving it by day 3, watch out!  Early on, I wanted the usual.  Pickles.  We went through 4 jars.  Then it was french fries.  Then chicken wings.  Chicken fingers.  Chicken nuggets.  Hamburgers.  Fried pepperoni.  Steak.  I began to notice a pattern.  I am, apparently, iron deficient.  I craved meat, meat, meat.  Which doesn't surprise me.  Because when I'm pregnant, I don't really eat meat in my meals.  I just don't like it, unless it's grilled at a restaurant, or cooked in a deep fryer.  Or better yet, cooked somewhere other than here, where I can't see it or smell it.  Yuck.  Then there's my fallback.  Chips.  Chips can be a problem for me, because I know I want them, I just don't know what kind.  Danny and I have had many a frustrated phone call with him standing in the chip aisle.  "Okay, I'm here.  What kind do you want?  What do you mean you don't know?  Well you have to tell me what you want.  Okay... dill pickle, salt and vinegar, roast chicken, or doritos?  That still doesn't help.  Which one?  Okay... dill pickle or roast chicken?  Well... which one?  Which one?  Which one?"  Usually around there, I scream, "oh just forget it."  And once, Danny did forget it.  He came home without any.  That was a mistake.  A big mistake.  Because then I cried, and yelled "if I can't decide, just bring them all.  I'll eat them eventually!"  Danny's a good little grasshopper, because he learned, and has never done that again!!   I also think Danny finds my cravings especially frustrating because when I give in, so does he!  I made him pick me up a burger and fries the other night and he ended up with a full meal too.  He brought them home at 11 p.m., and I ate a handful of fries and half the burger.  That was it, I was satisfied.  "How can you want something so bad, and only eat half of it?"  *sigh* Men... they just don't get it! :)

The last thing I'll mention is a near and dear issue for me... let me start by saying, I can be emotional during pregnancy.  Not crazy, angry, emotional, but teary cry-baby emotional (as I have mentioned in previous posts).  Being pregnant can cause me to feel irrational things, or say things that don't make sense.  But may I just say, right now, that it is not always horomones that make me upset.  I have this discussion with Danny often, especially during the beginning of pregnancy.  He'll say "Sammy, you're being awfully sensitive, are you hormonal today?"  And sometimes, I have to admit... yes, yes I am.  But there are times - a number of times, actually - when it is not my freaking horomones!  Sometimes, dear Husbands of pregnant people, it is NOT our horomones.  Sometimes (now brace yourselves for this), sometimes you are just being stupid.  Plain and simple.  No, I'm not hormonal.  You're just being dumb.  The minute we become pregnant, I swear, husbands and coworkers and most males in general, think they have a 9-month excuse for bad behaviour.  If they act like stupid jerks, they can just blame it on our horomones.  Even now, there is a male reading this paragraph, thinking... "oh, her poor husband, she certainly sounds hormonal." Well I take comfort in the fact that every female out there knows, it's not always my horomones.  Sometimes... it's just you!  So there.  Neener, neener, neener.

Well that's it for now... I'm hungry.  I think a want a burger... or french fries... maybe some chicken wings... mmmm....