Check this out:
It’s a plate. But not just any plate.
It’s Brooke’s plate.
Brooke’s dinner plate.
Brooke ate everything on her plate. This hasn’t happened since…well…ever.
What was the meal that won her over tonight? The meal that made her hum in delight and exclaim, “This is delicious!” The meal that must prove what an excellent cook I am?
Sloppy Joes.
I think it’s time for me to start a cooking blog.
If you have a baby in June of 2009,
then that sweet,
innocent,
precious,
happy,
silly
baby will turn eighteen-months old in December of 2010.
Meaning, this baby –
is less of a baby,
and more of a walking,
talking
toddler, which, in turn, means –
NURSERY TIME!
Yes, December truly is a magical time of year.
Brooke was spelling “words” with her bath letters. She had the following string of letters:
When she added the flower at the top, she looked back at her “word” and said, “Look, Mom! It says ‘Walmart!'”
She’s kind of right:
***
Brooke had been wrestling with Dallas. When I saw her, her cheeks were rosy.
Me: “Brooke! You look flushed!”
Brooke (immediately indignant): “I’m not flushed! What do you mean? I’m in a potty?”
***
Brooke and I were looking at a picture of a girl standing in an intersection. She had four paths she could choose to walk down.
Brooke: “She can go this way and there’s tigers! She can go this way and there’s elephants! She can go this way and there’s zebras!”
A pause. I am impressed that so far she’s thought of three jungle animals and wonder if she can think of a fourth.
Finally –
Brooke:Â “And she can go this way and there’s Cheetos!”
Where was I? Oh yes. My itchy feet.
Several weeks ago, my feet started to itch. I didn’t really notice it much. However, the itch got progressively worse to the point where I would have to kick off my shoes every few hours to give my feet a good scratching.
I had no idea what was causing this sudden itch. I decided to turn to the trusty Internet. I supposed I had athlete’s foot, but there was no rash on my foot at all. After reading up on athlete’s foot and looking at pictures, I decided that couldn’t be the problem.
Then Dallas suggested I look up “itchy feet during pregnancy.” Itchy feet during pregnancy? Seriously? Who’s ever heard of such a thing? I know pregnancy can do weird things to your body, but a localized itch on my feet? I was doubtful.
I dutifully Googled and before long, I found myself reading on www.itchymoms.com. Turns out there is a condition in pregnancy that causes itching on your feet. Have you ever heard of this? It’s called Obstetric Cholestasis. I read in disbelief about this condition. Usually the only thing women notice is itching. However, Obstetric Cholestasis “carries an increased risk of premature labor, fetal and maternal hemorrhaging, fetal distress, and most importantly, stillbirth.”
Holy moly.
I was sure I had this. What other explanation was there? From what I understand, pregnancy taxes a woman’s liver and causes it not to function as efficiently. Consequently, bile acids can build up in her blood. I think this is what causes itching. The big problem with this is that the mother’s blood has too much bile acid in it which is then transferred to the baby. The baby’s immature system cannot handle filtering out the bile acids and this causes fetal distress.
Yikes!
I went to the doctor for a checkup and told them about my itchy feet. The doctor ordered a blood test to check my bile acid levels.
The results came back – NORMAL.
That was a relief, but my feet still itched! I asked the doctor about that. He responded that some women just get itchy during pregnancy as a result of hormones going crazy.
Remember this post? I guess my skin is just extra prone to itching.
The itch is so annoying. When you’re pregnant, it’s understandable that you will wake up in the night because you’re uncomfortable. It’s expected that you’ll wake up because you have to go to the bathroom. It’s ridiculous to wake up because your feet itch, yet night after night, that’s the scenario.
I know, I know. There are worse things I could be dealing with. I could be barfing my guts out and have to be hooked to IVs around the clock. I could be bed-ridden. My baby could have something wrong with him. I’m glad that none of these are the case.
But.
Feet that constantly itch?
It’s so irritating.
And, to make this situation worse, the itch is spreading.
Has anyone else out there had this happen to them?
Benjamin Franklin, George Vernon Hudson, and William Willett.
These three men were the first to suggest and petition the idea of Daylight Saving. They couldn’t have known, but their actions have nearly been the death of me.
I usually don’t make a big deal out of the time changes with myself or with my kids. We just act as if the new time were the old time and live our lives accordingly. No problem.
No problem, that is, until a few weeks ago. Just as I was entering the blessed second trimester of pregnancy and my tiredness was getting under control, Daylight Saving time hit.
This past time change has been HORRIBLE. Before the time change I had two angels who went to bed around 7:30 p.m. and woke up around 8:00 a.m. I realize I was spoiled with my little girls sleeping in so late, but I was ever so grateful for it. Some people can get by with five or six hours of sleep. Others need the standard eight. I’m more of a ten-hour-a-night gal (even when I’m not pregnant).
Then came November 7th. We dutifully set our clocks back an hour and went to bed. Of course our girls didn’t sleep in until 8:00 because the old 8:00 was now 7:00. However, they didn’t wake up at 7:00. No. They woke up at 6:00. Ugh. Dallas and I peeled ourselves out of bed and started our very long Sunday morning.
I wanted to scream at church every time someone mentioned how they loved the extra hour of sleep they got that morning and didn’t I love it, too? No. There was no extra hour of sleep. There was an extra two hours of entertaining children.
And it’s been that way ever since. The girls have not adjusted their wake-up time. No matter how early or how late I put them to bed, they are awake before the sun is even thinking of rising. I might be able to understand if they were waking up a mere hour earlier than they used to, but it’s more like two hours earlier! We’ve started our mornings in the five o’clock hour so many times this past month that I have lost track.
It didn’t help that in the middle of all this time-changing nonsense Caroline discovered how to turn on the bedroom light. The only place in the girls’ room for the crib is right next to the light switch. Caroline has been blissfully unaware of the power that could be hers…until lately.
Not only would the girls wake up super early in the morning, but Caroline would turn on the light in the middle of the night and wake Brooke up, who in turn would yell at Caroline and wake everyone else up.
Dallas and I got smart. We taped the light switch down. Ha! Now she couldn’t access the switch.
That lasted a few days. Caroline quickly learned how to pick the tape off and continue aggravating all of the would-be sleepers in the house.
Dallas and I got smart again. Dallas constructed a barrier so her little hands couldn’t access the switch.
That didn’t work at all. Her little hands could still access the switch.
Dallas and I got smart. We taped the sides of our new contraption so her little hands couldn’t access the switch.
Her little hands could still access the switch.
Dallas and I got desperate. We scoured the Internet for a light switch cover. Surely something had to exist; we aren’t the only ones in the world with this problem, right?!
Dallas hit the jackpot. He found a light switch cover that locks the switch in the on or off position. It was love at first sight. We bought it as fast as we could.
It’s been the best $5.50 we’ve spent all month.
FINALLY, a device that little hands don’t know how to work. At least, not this week.
Finally we were able to settle into our beds to sleep without worrying about the chaos two little hands could cause.
Finally a device that would help me and Dallas get a full night’s sleep again.
…And then my feet started to itch. But that’s a story for another day.
