Eating:
Remember my Food Wars post? I realized recently that I never really gave any follow up to that, which is really kind of typical of me. First of all, thanks to everyone who took the time to give me advice and suggestions, or just to commiserate with me. Seems like picky eating is a toddler epidemic.
Having said that...dare I mention that things have improved in the eating department? (I'm currently knocking on wood 5,000 times.) And all I did differently was change my attitude. I started giving Camden a plate of whatever we happened to be eating for dinner, and then turned my attention to Matt, or anything other than Camden's plate. Pretty much? I spent the first five or ten minutes of dinner totally ignoring my toddler. (Previously, this time would be spent negotiating with Camden: "Take one bite of broccoli and I'll turn on Mickey" or trying to make eating into a game: "Daddy's going to take a bite at the same time as Camden!" Rarely did any of these tricks actually work.)
Guess what? Ignoring him worked. I'd watch out of the corner of my eye as he stared at his plate and pushed the food around a little bit. After a few minutes, he'd almost always try one bite, which usually would lead to several more. That's not to say that there aren't nights when he still flat out boycotts dinner, because there are (just way, way less often). On those nights, I simply take him out of his chair and finish my dinner. When I'm done, I'll offer him yogurt or a banana, which he gladly accepts.
I think it's safe to say that, for now, we've come to a peace agreement in our Food Wars.
Sleep:
Sleep has been interesting around here lately. For the past several weeks, Camden has pushed his bedtime back later and later. It's not unusual for him to fall asleep anywhere between 9:45-10:30 every night. Considering his regular bedtime used to be 8:30ish, I wasn't exactly pleased with this latest development.
The first thing I considered was that maybe he wasn't needing as much sleep anymore. He's approaching 2 and a half, and I know that sleep needs change with age. So, I tried cutting out his nap one afternoon a few weeks back. He powered through the afternoon with no problem but was a hot mess of meltdowns around dinner time. But? He fell asleep very easily that night by 8pm.
So, I decided to just follow his lead when it comes to naps. If he looks tired in the afternoon (and most afternoons, he still does), I attempt a nap. On the days that he naps, he goes to bed later than I'd like but sleeps later the next morning too (usually until 9ish). Occasionally, he'll have a day (like today) when he's still wide eyed in the late afternoon and I let him skip a nap. He was in bed by 8 tonight. I figure this will just be a gradual, trial and error process while he's phasing out his nap, and I'm just going to roll with it.
Speech:
Camden continues to go to speech therapy twice per week and his speech continues to grow by leaps and bounds. He currently uses 3 and 4 word sentences regularly and will even toss a 5 word sentence in here and there sometimes. I have no problem understanding about 75% of what he says, which I think is age appropriate.
His sentences don't exactly flow yet-- they are very choppy. For example, tonight he wanted to say, "The Easter Bunny is going to bring Daddy & me Reese's Pieces." What he said was, "Daddy, Me, Eah Bunny, Rees." So, he clearly makes his point, but it's not a perfectly flowing sentence, and sometimes he'll get his words out of order. Instead of saying, "Daddy has dirty shoes", he might say, "Dir-tay, Daddy, soooos."
We're primarily using Kaufman cards with him now in speech therapy and he continues to respond well. We are beyond thankful for his progress. It's so wonderful to know what's on his little mind, and he certainly doesn't hesitate to share with us!
Preggers:
I'm heading into week 14-- the beginning of the second trimester. There are days when I wake up feeling perfectly normal and days when I still run straight to the bathroom with my hand clasped firmly over my mouth. I remember this being the case during my pregnancy with Camden too-- the "morning" (ha-- all day) sickness gradually wore off over a period of weeks. It wasn't like a switch that flipped off at the start of the second trimester, as much as I was hoping for that. I'm starting to get a relatively normal appetite back, though the thought (and smell) of chicken still turns my stomach. Such an odd aversion, and one that makes preparing dinner tricky on many nights.
Once again, my parents rented a doppler for me (through Stork Radio-- highly recommend them, for anyone in the doppler market). It's so wonderful for daily reassurance, considering I haven't had an ultrasound since 6.5 weeks and won't until I'm 18 weeks along. With the exception of a couple of times early on, I've been able to find the heartbeat easily and quickly every day. Camden really enjoys listening to the baby too. I even caught him holding the video monitor to his bare stomach one afternoon, attempting to listen to his own baby. I didn't break it to him that not every electronic device is capable of listening to the inside of our bodies. I also didn't break it to him that he is not pregnant.
Wednesday, February 29, 2012
Sunday, February 26, 2012
Can't believe it's time for these again!
How far along? 13 weeks, 2 days
Total weight gain: Up 3 lbs so far. Don't think I was up any at this point with Camden. Uh oh.
Maternity clothes: Nope, but I moved up a jeans size. I'm in that awkward stage where I don't look clearly pregnant but I do look like I've been partaking in too many six packs. And donuts.
Sleep: Not too shabby (yet). A couple of pee breaks, but nothing excessive.
Best moment this week: I had a couple of days where I wasn't nauseous and thought perhaps the morning sickness phase was over. Not so much-- it has returned. But, those couple of days were glorious.
Movement: Not yet.
Gender: I haven't a clue. Although I kind of can't imagine anything other than a boy, since I have a son and 3 nephews.
Labor signs: No, thank you.
Belly button in or out: Still in so far.
What I miss: Cold deli meat!!!! And red wine.
What I am looking forward to: My next doctor's appointment in 2 weeks.
Milestones: This is my last week in the first trimester! Woohoo!
Total weight gain: Up 3 lbs so far. Don't think I was up any at this point with Camden. Uh oh.
Maternity clothes: Nope, but I moved up a jeans size. I'm in that awkward stage where I don't look clearly pregnant but I do look like I've been partaking in too many six packs. And donuts.
Sleep: Not too shabby (yet). A couple of pee breaks, but nothing excessive.
Best moment this week: I had a couple of days where I wasn't nauseous and thought perhaps the morning sickness phase was over. Not so much-- it has returned. But, those couple of days were glorious.
Movement: Not yet.
Gender: I haven't a clue. Although I kind of can't imagine anything other than a boy, since I have a son and 3 nephews.
Labor signs: No, thank you.
Belly button in or out: Still in so far.
What I miss: Cold deli meat!!!! And red wine.
What I am looking forward to: My next doctor's appointment in 2 weeks.
Milestones: This is my last week in the first trimester! Woohoo!
Photographic evidence of awkward chub phase:
Wednesday, February 22, 2012
And then the drama began.
After letting our families in on our happy news, I decided to email my RE and let him know too. Even though I wasn't pregnant due to a fertility treatment, I was still technically under his care, as I had medication ordered and was getting ready to begin another treatment cycle when this happened. So, I emailed him and filled him in and secretly hoped that he'd want me to come in and do bloodwork because I really couldn't imagine waiting until I was 8 weeks along to go to my OB's office for a first visit, like "normal" pregnant people do.
I was in luck. Dr. P. emailed me back right away and congratulated me, and then said that he would definitely still like to monitor me. He asked that I come in for bloodwork the next day.
Long time readers of my blog might recall that I didn't have the best experience with early pregnancy bloodwork when pregnant with Camden. That might be a bit of an understatement. To give a super brief summary, my hCG levels did not double as they're supposed to with Camden, and my RE had a suspicion that the pregnancy might be ectopic. And all I could do was wait until I was far enough along to have an ultrasound. I am a terrible waiter. Obviously (and thankfully) it all worked out in the end and I have a beautiful little 2 year old to show for it. But, man- those were some tough days in the beginning. You can read the full story here.
So, you can probably understand that, while I was glad to be having bloodwork done, I was also quite nervous. I went in the next day and a nurse called only a couple of hours later with the results. My hCG level was great-- sky high, in fact. I breathed a sigh of relief. Then, I heard it: "But..." There was a freakin' but. I braced myself.
"But," she continued, "Your progesterone level is low....it's a 6.8. That's quite a bit lower than we like to see...." She mentioned that Dr. P wanted me to start taking progesterone suppositories ASAP and I kind of tuned the rest of the conversation out. As soon as we hung up, I consulted Dr. Google about low progesterone. Big mistake. It's not a pretty Google search. Every site screamed out to me that low progesterone is often a strong predictor of early miscarriage. Most doctors like your level to be at least a 10, but prefer it to be over 20. In an effort to be reasonable and not believe everything I read just because it's on the internet (imagine that), I emailed Dr. P about my test results and asked for his opinion. He wrote back almost immediately (love that about him) and confirmed my online research: low progesterone is, in fact, a red flag for early miscarriage. "Time will tell", he wrote. And I knew he was right. There was nothing I could do but wait a few more days and go back in for some more bloodwork. Have I mentioned how much I hate waiting?
When I got the call about my bloodwork results a few days later, I couldn't even bring myself to answer my phone. I knew it would go to voicemail, and I knew they would leave a message with the results. I had given them permission. I'd rather listen than talk, I decided. When I called into my voicemail and heard Dr. P's voice talking to me (instead of a nurse), I knew the news wasn't great. And I listened cautiously as he told me that my progesterone had improved a bit....BUT. There it was again-- the dreaded "but". "But your hCG levels didn't double. So, that leaves the status of this pregnancy in question..." He continued on to tell me that the pregnancy might be a) normal b) an unhealthy pregnancy that was going to miscarry or c) ectopic. I immediately flashed back to the beginning of my pregnancy with Camden. Dr. P ended the voicemail by telling me, once again, that only time would tell and we'd have to wait a week until I was far enough along to do an ultrasound. Let me tell you: that week felt like an eternity.
When we arrived for my ultrasound a week later, another doctor in the practice greeted us and asked me about the date of my last period. She then determined that I was 6 weeks along, and switched on the ultrasound machine. "Okay," she said, "What I'm seeing here is a very early pregnancy. There's a gestational sac, and there's a yolk sac." And that was it. She switched off the screen and printed out a picture for us.
I felt confused. "When should we see the fetal pole? Or the heartbeat?"
She was very matter-of-fact: "If you really are 6 weeks along, we should've seen the fetal pole today."
She mentioned that I could have ovulated late, my cycles could be different than what's "average", that at least the pregnancy was in my uterus and wasn't ectopic, that the worst thing that could happen now was that it wouldn't progress, and on and on.
"Come back in a week," she told us, "And we'll know more." Yep-- I had to wait another week to know if I was really and truly pregnant once again.
This time, I didn't even get upset. I was pretty numb. I was so unbelievably sick of waiting around. To me, waiting is worse than knowing, even if the news is bad. All I wanted was to know something so that I could allow myself to process what was happening and start to move forward, one way or another. But all I could do was wait.
It was around this time that the spotting began. First, just a few pink spots, then a little heavier. Sometimes I'd go an entire day without spotting; sometimes, I'd spot all day for days in a row. You can imagine what I believed about the status of the pregnancy by this point. Still, I didn't call my RE's office, because I knew there was nothing further they could do.
The day before my next ultrasound, I had my heaviest spotting of all. I told Matt, my mom, and my sister that I would be genuinely surprised if this pregnancy was viable. Matt remained optimistic (as always) as we headed into our appointment the next day.
Yet another doctor in the practice bounded into the ultrasound room and yelled, "Congratulations!" as a greeting. I thanked him hesitantly and then went over my history with him a bit. "Oh," he said sheepishly, "I guess I should've read your entire file before I walked in. I just saw 'pregnant' and came in the room." Um, yeah.
So, he began the ultrasound and pointed out the same things we had seen before: gestational sac and yolk sac. I braced myself as he turned the screen towards me a bit more. "And there," he said, "is the little heartbeat." I couldn't help it-- I started crying. Out of disbelief, out of relief, out of happiness, out of gratitude. I reached out for Matt's hand and we listened excitedly for our due date: August 23rd (later changed to August 29th).
And there you have it: our dramatic beginning of pregnancy. Seems like my children have a knack for stressing their mama out in their early in-utero days! Hopefully this means they'll be keeping the drama to a minimum as teenagers.
I was in luck. Dr. P. emailed me back right away and congratulated me, and then said that he would definitely still like to monitor me. He asked that I come in for bloodwork the next day.
Long time readers of my blog might recall that I didn't have the best experience with early pregnancy bloodwork when pregnant with Camden. That might be a bit of an understatement. To give a super brief summary, my hCG levels did not double as they're supposed to with Camden, and my RE had a suspicion that the pregnancy might be ectopic. And all I could do was wait until I was far enough along to have an ultrasound. I am a terrible waiter. Obviously (and thankfully) it all worked out in the end and I have a beautiful little 2 year old to show for it. But, man- those were some tough days in the beginning. You can read the full story here.
So, you can probably understand that, while I was glad to be having bloodwork done, I was also quite nervous. I went in the next day and a nurse called only a couple of hours later with the results. My hCG level was great-- sky high, in fact. I breathed a sigh of relief. Then, I heard it: "But..." There was a freakin' but. I braced myself.
"But," she continued, "Your progesterone level is low....it's a 6.8. That's quite a bit lower than we like to see...." She mentioned that Dr. P wanted me to start taking progesterone suppositories ASAP and I kind of tuned the rest of the conversation out. As soon as we hung up, I consulted Dr. Google about low progesterone. Big mistake. It's not a pretty Google search. Every site screamed out to me that low progesterone is often a strong predictor of early miscarriage. Most doctors like your level to be at least a 10, but prefer it to be over 20. In an effort to be reasonable and not believe everything I read just because it's on the internet (imagine that), I emailed Dr. P about my test results and asked for his opinion. He wrote back almost immediately (love that about him) and confirmed my online research: low progesterone is, in fact, a red flag for early miscarriage. "Time will tell", he wrote. And I knew he was right. There was nothing I could do but wait a few more days and go back in for some more bloodwork. Have I mentioned how much I hate waiting?
When I got the call about my bloodwork results a few days later, I couldn't even bring myself to answer my phone. I knew it would go to voicemail, and I knew they would leave a message with the results. I had given them permission. I'd rather listen than talk, I decided. When I called into my voicemail and heard Dr. P's voice talking to me (instead of a nurse), I knew the news wasn't great. And I listened cautiously as he told me that my progesterone had improved a bit....BUT. There it was again-- the dreaded "but". "But your hCG levels didn't double. So, that leaves the status of this pregnancy in question..." He continued on to tell me that the pregnancy might be a) normal b) an unhealthy pregnancy that was going to miscarry or c) ectopic. I immediately flashed back to the beginning of my pregnancy with Camden. Dr. P ended the voicemail by telling me, once again, that only time would tell and we'd have to wait a week until I was far enough along to do an ultrasound. Let me tell you: that week felt like an eternity.
When we arrived for my ultrasound a week later, another doctor in the practice greeted us and asked me about the date of my last period. She then determined that I was 6 weeks along, and switched on the ultrasound machine. "Okay," she said, "What I'm seeing here is a very early pregnancy. There's a gestational sac, and there's a yolk sac." And that was it. She switched off the screen and printed out a picture for us.
I felt confused. "When should we see the fetal pole? Or the heartbeat?"
She was very matter-of-fact: "If you really are 6 weeks along, we should've seen the fetal pole today."
She mentioned that I could have ovulated late, my cycles could be different than what's "average", that at least the pregnancy was in my uterus and wasn't ectopic, that the worst thing that could happen now was that it wouldn't progress, and on and on.
"Come back in a week," she told us, "And we'll know more." Yep-- I had to wait another week to know if I was really and truly pregnant once again.
This time, I didn't even get upset. I was pretty numb. I was so unbelievably sick of waiting around. To me, waiting is worse than knowing, even if the news is bad. All I wanted was to know something so that I could allow myself to process what was happening and start to move forward, one way or another. But all I could do was wait.
It was around this time that the spotting began. First, just a few pink spots, then a little heavier. Sometimes I'd go an entire day without spotting; sometimes, I'd spot all day for days in a row. You can imagine what I believed about the status of the pregnancy by this point. Still, I didn't call my RE's office, because I knew there was nothing further they could do.
The day before my next ultrasound, I had my heaviest spotting of all. I told Matt, my mom, and my sister that I would be genuinely surprised if this pregnancy was viable. Matt remained optimistic (as always) as we headed into our appointment the next day.
Yet another doctor in the practice bounded into the ultrasound room and yelled, "Congratulations!" as a greeting. I thanked him hesitantly and then went over my history with him a bit. "Oh," he said sheepishly, "I guess I should've read your entire file before I walked in. I just saw 'pregnant' and came in the room." Um, yeah.
So, he began the ultrasound and pointed out the same things we had seen before: gestational sac and yolk sac. I braced myself as he turned the screen towards me a bit more. "And there," he said, "is the little heartbeat." I couldn't help it-- I started crying. Out of disbelief, out of relief, out of happiness, out of gratitude. I reached out for Matt's hand and we listened excitedly for our due date: August 23rd (later changed to August 29th).
And there you have it: our dramatic beginning of pregnancy. Seems like my children have a knack for stressing their mama out in their early in-utero days! Hopefully this means they'll be keeping the drama to a minimum as teenagers.
Saturday, February 18, 2012
How it happened.
It's funny because when a "normal" person becomes pregnant, you never wonder for a second, "How did that happen?!". Because, well, the answer is fairly obvious. And you probably don't want the play by play details.
When a person who has previously dealt with infertility becomes pregnant, though, I think it's fairly natural to wonder, "How did it happen?!" And, so, here's how it happened this time around.
We decided to start the fertility treatment process again back in September. For us, fertility treatments entail a combination of oral (Femara) and injectable (Gonal-F) medications combined with IUI. (You might recall that our fertility "issue" is endometriosis on my part.) So, we did an IUI in September. On paper, everything looked perfect that cycle. And still, the IUI resulted in a back fat nothing. We made the decision to take the month of October off from treatments, as I was heading out of town for a friend's bridal shower and bachelorette party and the last thing I wanted to deal with was excusing myself from catching up with old friends to go inject myself in the bathroom at a party. Not really appealing. We resumed treatments in November, and once again, our cycle was ideal in theory. And, once again, nothing came of it. With two failed IUIs under our belt, Matt and I took the month of December off from fertility treatments to go to the same friend's wedding out of town.
On our road trip, we talked about our failed IUIs and what would come next. Since Camden was conceived on our very first IUI attempt a couple of years ago (granted, I had just had surgery to remove my endometriosis), we hadn't really considered the "what ifs" that might be involved this time around. What if IUI didn't work? What would our next step be? Or would there be a next step?
We both agreed during that car ride that we wouldn't do anything more extensive (or expensive) than a few more IUIs. Camden would always be enough for us, we agreed, even though ideally we'd love to add another child to our family. More than anything, we really didn't want Camden to miss out on having a sibling, since neither Matt nor I could imagine our childhoods (and our lives) without our siblings. So, even though it felt a little sad to potentially not have another child, we felt beyond grateful for Camden and were okay with being a family of three if our IUIs weren't successful.
Fast forward three weeks. It was a few days before Christmas, and my period was late. The first and second days it was late, I didn't allow myself to feel an inkling of hope. After all, it wasn't totally abnormal for my cycle to be off by a day or two. But when four days passed and there was still nothing, I could feel myself starting to hope. I didn't tell Matt, because I had this dream of giving him a positive pregnancy test all wrapped up on Christmas morning. I also daydreamed about how I would tell my parents and even sketched out a draft of a little poem I might give to them for Christmas. And yes- I did all of these things before I'd even taken a pregnancy test.
I did finally allow myself to buy a pregnancy test but kept putting off taking it. I was so afraid I was wrong, so afraid to see that one sad little pink line I'd grown accustomed to repeatedly seeing years ago. Then I woke up at 2am on Christmas Eve and I couldn't stand it anymore. I snuck into the bathroom and forced myself to pee on that pesky little stick that had been calling out to me for days. My hands were shaking as I waited for the verdict. And then, a minute later, the verdict was in: Pregnant. During the cycle we took off. After our two failed IUIs. After I was told that we had a 5% chance of conceiving without treatment. I was pregnant.
I think I went back to sleep for a couple of hours but I can't be entirely sure. When Camden woke up the next morning, we wrapped the pregnancy test together. And on the morning of Christmas Eve, I had Camden wake Matt up and hand him his gift. It was perfect.
That night, we headed to my parents' house for Christmas Eve dinner and I typed up two rough drafts of the poem that I had written hopefully several days before. It was a lighthearted poem written from Camden's perspective, and it ended with "There's something important that you need to hear/I'm going to be a big brother next year!" I handed sealed envelopes to my parents and instructed them to open them while we were all sitting at the table before dinner. Their reactions were priceless: my dad finished reading first and threw his arms up in the air victoriously; my mom seemed to reread the last line over and over again before looking up at me with tears in her eyes and saying, "What?! Really?!" Once again, it was perfect.
But oh, it wasn't that simple. I didn't know it then, but we were in store for some pregnancy drama over the next two weeks. More on that later.
When a person who has previously dealt with infertility becomes pregnant, though, I think it's fairly natural to wonder, "How did it happen?!" And, so, here's how it happened this time around.
We decided to start the fertility treatment process again back in September. For us, fertility treatments entail a combination of oral (Femara) and injectable (Gonal-F) medications combined with IUI. (You might recall that our fertility "issue" is endometriosis on my part.) So, we did an IUI in September. On paper, everything looked perfect that cycle. And still, the IUI resulted in a back fat nothing. We made the decision to take the month of October off from treatments, as I was heading out of town for a friend's bridal shower and bachelorette party and the last thing I wanted to deal with was excusing myself from catching up with old friends to go inject myself in the bathroom at a party. Not really appealing. We resumed treatments in November, and once again, our cycle was ideal in theory. And, once again, nothing came of it. With two failed IUIs under our belt, Matt and I took the month of December off from fertility treatments to go to the same friend's wedding out of town.
On our road trip, we talked about our failed IUIs and what would come next. Since Camden was conceived on our very first IUI attempt a couple of years ago (granted, I had just had surgery to remove my endometriosis), we hadn't really considered the "what ifs" that might be involved this time around. What if IUI didn't work? What would our next step be? Or would there be a next step?
We both agreed during that car ride that we wouldn't do anything more extensive (or expensive) than a few more IUIs. Camden would always be enough for us, we agreed, even though ideally we'd love to add another child to our family. More than anything, we really didn't want Camden to miss out on having a sibling, since neither Matt nor I could imagine our childhoods (and our lives) without our siblings. So, even though it felt a little sad to potentially not have another child, we felt beyond grateful for Camden and were okay with being a family of three if our IUIs weren't successful.
Fast forward three weeks. It was a few days before Christmas, and my period was late. The first and second days it was late, I didn't allow myself to feel an inkling of hope. After all, it wasn't totally abnormal for my cycle to be off by a day or two. But when four days passed and there was still nothing, I could feel myself starting to hope. I didn't tell Matt, because I had this dream of giving him a positive pregnancy test all wrapped up on Christmas morning. I also daydreamed about how I would tell my parents and even sketched out a draft of a little poem I might give to them for Christmas. And yes- I did all of these things before I'd even taken a pregnancy test.
I did finally allow myself to buy a pregnancy test but kept putting off taking it. I was so afraid I was wrong, so afraid to see that one sad little pink line I'd grown accustomed to repeatedly seeing years ago. Then I woke up at 2am on Christmas Eve and I couldn't stand it anymore. I snuck into the bathroom and forced myself to pee on that pesky little stick that had been calling out to me for days. My hands were shaking as I waited for the verdict. And then, a minute later, the verdict was in: Pregnant. During the cycle we took off. After our two failed IUIs. After I was told that we had a 5% chance of conceiving without treatment. I was pregnant.
I think I went back to sleep for a couple of hours but I can't be entirely sure. When Camden woke up the next morning, we wrapped the pregnancy test together. And on the morning of Christmas Eve, I had Camden wake Matt up and hand him his gift. It was perfect.
That night, we headed to my parents' house for Christmas Eve dinner and I typed up two rough drafts of the poem that I had written hopefully several days before. It was a lighthearted poem written from Camden's perspective, and it ended with "There's something important that you need to hear/I'm going to be a big brother next year!" I handed sealed envelopes to my parents and instructed them to open them while we were all sitting at the table before dinner. Their reactions were priceless: my dad finished reading first and threw his arms up in the air victoriously; my mom seemed to reread the last line over and over again before looking up at me with tears in her eyes and saying, "What?! Really?!" Once again, it was perfect.
But oh, it wasn't that simple. I didn't know it then, but we were in store for some pregnancy drama over the next two weeks. More on that later.
Thursday, February 16, 2012
Camden's Big Announcement!
We've got big news to share 'round these parts. Please reference Camden's shirt below.
That's right-- Camden is going to have a little brother or sister (or, if you ask him, a little baby Easter bunny) in late August! More details to follow.
(If we happen to be Facebook buddies, I'm not making this announcement there right now, so no comments on my page yet, please and thank you.)
Saturday, February 11, 2012
Lately.
I don't know about the rest of you, but I feel like the winter months after the holidays have passed are so pointless. More often than not, they're dreary and cold, and if you live in the south like we do, the chances of being consoled with even the occasional snow day are slim to none (my neighbor, Tricia, told me that we jinxed the chances of having snow this year by buying Camden some snow boots back in August. Apparently you don't do that in the south. It's not good luck. Next year, I promise not to be prepared for snow).
Lately, we've been busy with speech sessions (two mornings a week), trips to Nan & Pop's house (conveniently, their house is only a few miles from Camden's speech therapist, so we usually head that way for the day after speech each week), play dates with cousins and neighbors, sneaking outside whenever it's not bitterly cold, and doing indoor crafts whenever it is too cold to be outside. I've gotten a few fun toddler craft ideas from Pinterest, but mostly, I just kind of wing it. A couple of days ago, Camden and I went on a scavenger hunt for pinecones and rocks, gathered them all in a bag, and then took them home and painted them out back. That was a (messy) hit.
Lately, we've also been talking about the Easter Bunny quite a bit. I introduced the concept of Easter to Camden about a week ago and have showed him countless You Tube Easter Bunny videos (by request) since then. Matt and I hear "Eah Bunny!" at least 7,000 times a day now. A huge benefit is that whenever Camden is exercising his toddler defiant streak, a simple "Do I need to call the Easter Bunny?" is all it takes for him to rethink his rebellion. I'll milk that for as long as I can!
So, here's what we've been doing lately..
Lately, we've been busy with speech sessions (two mornings a week), trips to Nan & Pop's house (conveniently, their house is only a few miles from Camden's speech therapist, so we usually head that way for the day after speech each week), play dates with cousins and neighbors, sneaking outside whenever it's not bitterly cold, and doing indoor crafts whenever it is too cold to be outside. I've gotten a few fun toddler craft ideas from Pinterest, but mostly, I just kind of wing it. A couple of days ago, Camden and I went on a scavenger hunt for pinecones and rocks, gathered them all in a bag, and then took them home and painted them out back. That was a (messy) hit.
Lately, we've also been talking about the Easter Bunny quite a bit. I introduced the concept of Easter to Camden about a week ago and have showed him countless You Tube Easter Bunny videos (by request) since then. Matt and I hear "Eah Bunny!" at least 7,000 times a day now. A huge benefit is that whenever Camden is exercising his toddler defiant streak, a simple "Do I need to call the Easter Bunny?" is all it takes for him to rethink his rebellion. I'll milk that for as long as I can!
So, here's what we've been doing lately..
Spending some QT with Daddy. I love that genuine smile.
Matt tried to replace the "diapers as hats" phase with legitimate hats. It worked for about a night.
We met up with my blogger friend, Amy, and her twins at the local children's museum again.
We spent an unseasonably warm (nearly 70 degree!) day at Nan & Pop's lakehouse. We must've thrown hundreds of rocks into the water.
Nan & Pop's deck is perfect for racing...
...pretty sure Camden has this race in the bag.
We transitioned Camden to a toddler bed months ago when he started climbing out of his crib on the regular. It's gone okay. He'll sleep about half of the night in his bed (sometimes more, sometimes less) and then come find Mommy. Doesn't bother me, so I'm not going to do anything to fix it right now. Prior to last week, he was sleeping in a Disney Cars bed, but due to his choo choo obsession, Nan & Pop bought him this train bed and took his old bed to their house for sleepovers. Camden loves to talk about his "blue choo choo!"
The aforementioned art project. It's so much to clean up, but still entirely worth it. The kid loves anything artsy or crafty.
Know what else he loves? Teeth brushing. Seriously. It used to be all I could do to pry his mouth open and brush his teeth for 10 seconds; now, it's hard to take the toothbrush away from him when we're done. Like father, like son. Matt has an obsession with teeth brushing and oral hygiene in general (not a bad thing to be obsessed with, I know).
Friday, February 3, 2012
Cousins are built in BFFs
Have I mentioned before that my older sister lives right down the street from us? I'm sure I have, and you probably thought it was weird and a little cult-ish (and honestly, I'm not going to disagree with you there) but it's wonderful for us and, more importantly, it's wonderful for Camden. Having a cousin that's only 5 months younger than him who lives just a few houses down from him? Well, it means he has a built in best buddy. And we take full advantage of that.
Their relationship has evolved many times over the past couple of years, but the past couple of months have been particularly entertaining for my sister and me. Even though Camden is the older cousin, he copies everything Will does. Like, everything. If Will wants a snack, so does Camden. If Will is teething & has his fingers shoved in his mouth, you will surely look over to find Camden chewing on his hand too. If Will falls down, Camden fakes a fall. If Will has a cough, Camden does an impressive cough imitation. I told my sister that if this copying stuff continues as they get older, I better cross my fingers that Will's a good influence!
But anyway, here are the BFFs. Can't you just feel the love?
Their relationship has evolved many times over the past couple of years, but the past couple of months have been particularly entertaining for my sister and me. Even though Camden is the older cousin, he copies everything Will does. Like, everything. If Will wants a snack, so does Camden. If Will is teething & has his fingers shoved in his mouth, you will surely look over to find Camden chewing on his hand too. If Will falls down, Camden fakes a fall. If Will has a cough, Camden does an impressive cough imitation. I told my sister that if this copying stuff continues as they get older, I better cross my fingers that Will's a good influence!
But anyway, here are the BFFs. Can't you just feel the love?
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