Dapo and I switched from TMobile to Verizon Wireless this week. Our new phones arrive tomorrow and I presume I won't be able to use my SIM card with the new phone. As such, I am going through my phone and weeding out numbers I no longer use and the likes.
I just had to share with cyberspace this adorable text message that I have saved on my phone. I am a little sad it has to evaporate tomorrow (if anyone knows how to avoid this, let me know!)because it is just so special to me! But anyhow, here it is, as sent on 02/13/08 (Before the Primaries for 08 Election):
Ok. U are the most wonderful wife in the whole world. If I was running 4 president, u will be my running mate (get it?) Love u.
From: Dapo
10:11 am. 02/13/08
My husband is so charming and clever!
Tuesday, December 29, 2009
Wednesday, August 5, 2009
Writing About Writing
Years ago while living in Salt Lake City, my pastor interrupted his own sermon to say, "You know, if you find yourself thinking that SOMEBODY needs to do SOMETHING about a particular thing...THAT SOMEBODY IS YOU!" I don't know if that is something he uses in his day to day activities or if that was hot off the presses of Heaven, but it resonated with me.
Why else go to church, really, unless you are going to hear from God? Those words were tailor-made word for my life, and I believe Pastor Craig McCune said them just for me. They work whether it is "Somebody should help that lady in the door. Why isn't anyone helping her?" (why don't YOU help her?) to "Somebody should make a suitcase with wheels on it" (YOU could have, and been millions richer as a result).
Dapo and I were married in 2005 and made our first home in a student apartment I not-so-lovingly referred to as Cellblock 642. I called it such, because it was as though we lived in prison, with strict regulations on how many holes in the CINDER BLOCK walls we could make without being docked rent when we moved out. Honest, I am not making this up. The only consolation of living in CB 642 was that it was dirt cheap and included cable and utilities.
Shortly after we married, I sat at our built-in formica computer desk and surfed the web. I ran across a very intriguing story on a news site. As I read the story, I thought, "SOMEBODY should make a movie about this." You know what this means!
After we moved to Huntsville, Alabama, we found a church we absolutely adore. Pastor Mark Garver attended the same Bible school as our pastor in SLC, but that is the only thing about them that they have in common. Wouldn't you know it, one day Pastor Mark interrupted his own sermon and said, "Somebody's going to do it, it might as well be you." I had to laugh.
Not because it is funny, really; but because of how my father God taught me a lesson. I learned in SLC that if somebody SHOULD do it, it SHOULD be me. I learned that I'm the somebody, the noun in the sentence. But now, I have learned that somebody IS GOING to do it. It is no longer IF, it is WHEN. And since somebody is GOING to do it, I might as well be that somebody. Especially when that SOMETHING is a million (or multi-million) dollar idea. Think about it...someone is going to do it, so it might as well be you.
I had only the introduction plus an outline of the story written when I began to work on the screenplay again in late 2007. I sporadically worked on it throughout 2008. I was praying one day in June of this year about miracles, which is defined as "an EXTRAORDINARY event manifesting divine intervention in human affairs". I determined to finish this long project at that time, knowing that I had divine intervention at my disposal. When I wrote the conclusion to my story yesterday, I think I had already done all of my rejoicing and shouting, as I was just relieved to be done.
I am so thankful that God enabled me to write, and to finish the screenplay. I'd like to thank Him for the idea, inspiration and grace to do it. I'd like to thank my husband, Dapo, for being so supportive of me; giving up time on the weekends and weeknights to watch the kids while I wrote and finally, my kids for taking long naps and being my driving force.
Wait a minute, this sounds like an acceptance speech. I'm not at the Acadamy Awards...yet.
Why else go to church, really, unless you are going to hear from God? Those words were tailor-made word for my life, and I believe Pastor Craig McCune said them just for me. They work whether it is "Somebody should help that lady in the door. Why isn't anyone helping her?" (why don't YOU help her?) to "Somebody should make a suitcase with wheels on it" (YOU could have, and been millions richer as a result).
Dapo and I were married in 2005 and made our first home in a student apartment I not-so-lovingly referred to as Cellblock 642. I called it such, because it was as though we lived in prison, with strict regulations on how many holes in the CINDER BLOCK walls we could make without being docked rent when we moved out. Honest, I am not making this up. The only consolation of living in CB 642 was that it was dirt cheap and included cable and utilities.
Shortly after we married, I sat at our built-in formica computer desk and surfed the web. I ran across a very intriguing story on a news site. As I read the story, I thought, "SOMEBODY should make a movie about this." You know what this means!
After we moved to Huntsville, Alabama, we found a church we absolutely adore. Pastor Mark Garver attended the same Bible school as our pastor in SLC, but that is the only thing about them that they have in common. Wouldn't you know it, one day Pastor Mark interrupted his own sermon and said, "Somebody's going to do it, it might as well be you." I had to laugh.
Not because it is funny, really; but because of how my father God taught me a lesson. I learned in SLC that if somebody SHOULD do it, it SHOULD be me. I learned that I'm the somebody, the noun in the sentence. But now, I have learned that somebody IS GOING to do it. It is no longer IF, it is WHEN. And since somebody is GOING to do it, I might as well be that somebody. Especially when that SOMETHING is a million (or multi-million) dollar idea. Think about it...someone is going to do it, so it might as well be you.
I had only the introduction plus an outline of the story written when I began to work on the screenplay again in late 2007. I sporadically worked on it throughout 2008. I was praying one day in June of this year about miracles, which is defined as "an EXTRAORDINARY event manifesting divine intervention in human affairs". I determined to finish this long project at that time, knowing that I had divine intervention at my disposal. When I wrote the conclusion to my story yesterday, I think I had already done all of my rejoicing and shouting, as I was just relieved to be done.
I am so thankful that God enabled me to write, and to finish the screenplay. I'd like to thank Him for the idea, inspiration and grace to do it. I'd like to thank my husband, Dapo, for being so supportive of me; giving up time on the weekends and weeknights to watch the kids while I wrote and finally, my kids for taking long naps and being my driving force.
Wait a minute, this sounds like an acceptance speech. I'm not at the Acadamy Awards...yet.
Wednesday, July 8, 2009
Bonk Bed
I am up for the umpteenth time in a row at four in the morning. Okay, I am exaggerating. It’s 3:45. Why am I up, you ask? Allow me to explain.
It all started on June 18th. My son, Jimi (who turns two on Monday!), thought it would be fun to spill Mylicon drops all over his sister’s room. NOT the dye-free kind. His blanket, aka blankie, happened to be in the way of the Mylicon and was splattered with pink. It had to go into the wash immediately, along with some other things that got in the way of his…er, creativity.
That day was a slow wash day. If you don’t know what I mean by that, it is when you aren’t in any hurry to “do” laundry. IF you remember you are doing laundry you switch it over. Nap time came and went and he didn’t even so much as ask for the blanket. I was so relieved, because it was still in the washer. The day got away from me and before I knew it, it was time for bed. Oops. Blankie not dry yet. I took the other clothes out of the drier to hopefully try to expedite the drying process. We did our normal bedtime routine and he went to sleep without even asking for the blankie. WOW!
Of course this was a clear indication he was done with the blankie, right?? You and me, both. The next day he was crying for it at regular intervals. My son has a very strong will and doesn’t take no for an answer. But, we made it the next two days. Unfortunately, Dapo didn’t know the whereabouts of the blanket due to my negligence to tell him. I was doing laundry that weekend and asked him to help me switch the clothes over. Jimi walked around the corner as he was pulling the blanket out of the dryer. Back to square one.
It is hard to believe it has “only” been two and a half weeks. But, to literally add insult to injury, Jimi has been banging his head on his crib at night. This was happening before the blanket was taken away. It started around Easter when we took his binky away. At bed time we would put him in the crib, and then suddenly he’s hungry, needs to potty, blankie, read, pray, Daddy, Mommy, Elmo…anything to get out.
We put our proverbial foot down, making sure he had all of those things before bed and then firmly telling him it was night time. None of that seemed to matter, because he didn’t want to go to bed. He therefore began pounding his head on the crib. Not just dully knocking, forcefully throwing. Check out my All Things Eso photo album on facebook, you can see early pictures of the damages, which don't really do it justice.
If you are a mother, or a person who is not void of a soul, then you will realize this is a very hard thing to watch and/or know is occurring in the next room. It would make me want to cry and/or cry, night after night. He would get such a look on his face when I would put him down in the crib that it made me feel like I was abandoning him. I could tell that’s how he felt, too. But, I was just in the next room. It’s not like I was dropping him off somewhere to go smoke crack. Just going to go do the dishes! Nonetheless, he looked at me with what seemed to be such terror and begging me not to do this to him. I still see that look from one night in particular very vividly.
So, I thought he felt trapped, like I was sending him to prison. Since he has a convertible crib, I asked Dapo if he would take the front rail off so we could convert to a “big boy bed”. Dapo did, and we did, but he didn’t. He still had three other sides to hit his head on, and let us know about it. Plus, now he could get out. It was constant up and “get back into bed” for a good two-three hours every night time AND nap time. All you math wizards out there know this was at least a fourth of my day. My time is being stolen, and I need that time!
On June 16th, I had been talking to the Lord about a project that has been on my heart to do for several years. The word that God spoke to our church at the turn of this year was that it would be an extraordinary year. A year of miracles, signs and wonders. Harvest time. It’s my season; my time. So this project, you see, is extraordinary. It requires some extraordinary resources. I devoted myself to Him to actually do this project and walk it out by faith on that same day. I find it to be no coincidence that I consecrated myself to use my time wisely (hence the facebook hiatus) when this time-stealing behavior began. I realize I had my hand in it, unbeknownst to myself, but this is important in understanding the magnitude of my frustration with the situation.
So these get-back-into-bed sessions were starting around 8 at bedtime, and lasting until 10:30 or 11. It was putting a strain on both of us, because we were then not able to get to bed until around midnight or one. Then because he was going to bed upset, he would wake up in the middle of the night and crawl into bed with us. We started locking our door, which he bangs with his head, of course. We are also waking up around 5 every day with Lorin. Jimi usually hears Lorin and gets up with her.
Alright, he must be scared of falling off, right? So, let’s move the mattress onto the floor. That was Friday, so it has been four nights since then. Still nothing. These last two weeks, I have taken several approaches to it. I’ve tried picking him up and placing him in the bed; sending him back to bed; switching him back to bed; yelling him back to bed; singing him back to bed; praying him back to bed; laying hands on him back to bed; and so on. I suppose it goes without saying (well, I guess not, since I’m saying it) that Dapo’s and my relationship has taken a bit more stress on because we aren’t having time to spend with each other after the kids go to bed. On the nights that Jimi helps himself to our bed, our sleep is interrupted by that as well.
Further exacerbating the problem is that I began to come off of Zoloft (an anti-depressant for PPD) on June 11th. Thank God for that! My dreams had gone beyond vivid, and my doctor said it was attributed to that drug. My doctor decreased my dosage on the 11th, and on the 25th took me off of it entirely. The point here is that I was a little wobbly emotionally, like after you take the training wheels off of your bike.
Another extenuating circumstance is that I have not been able to go to the gym these last few weeks, because he is also only getting about seven hours of sleep a DAY. He tends to have greater trouble listening and gets rowdy and frenetic when he is tired.
The first Sunday of the month we have Saturation Meetings at church. Usually my pastor lays hand on everyone who wants hands laid on them. I had determined on Friday that I was going to have pastor lay hands on Jimi and me for this, because I have had enough! I am seeking God’s wisdom on what will work for my boy, because my heart aches for him and my body longs for sleep. I was determined this was going to end this weekend. If you were at this service, you may have seen me expressing some victory. If you weren’t at the service, think Chris Farley in Tommy Boy when he is attacked by bees; with a Bible.
So I now have a new attitude, more grace, and hope for an end. I can really feel it getting better, but I am still working out my salvation. He is only resisting bed time and nap time for an hour now, and the Holy Spirit is constantly showing me things I can do to diffuse the situation. I am looking to my inner man to receive advice from the Great Counselor, with each situation.
Obviously, he is still waking up in the middle of the night, but going back to bed within the hour it took me to write this (less all the up and down).
God is faithful, His way is perfect and His word is proven. He is a shield to all who trust in Him!
It all started on June 18th. My son, Jimi (who turns two on Monday!), thought it would be fun to spill Mylicon drops all over his sister’s room. NOT the dye-free kind. His blanket, aka blankie, happened to be in the way of the Mylicon and was splattered with pink. It had to go into the wash immediately, along with some other things that got in the way of his…er, creativity.
That day was a slow wash day. If you don’t know what I mean by that, it is when you aren’t in any hurry to “do” laundry. IF you remember you are doing laundry you switch it over. Nap time came and went and he didn’t even so much as ask for the blanket. I was so relieved, because it was still in the washer. The day got away from me and before I knew it, it was time for bed. Oops. Blankie not dry yet. I took the other clothes out of the drier to hopefully try to expedite the drying process. We did our normal bedtime routine and he went to sleep without even asking for the blankie. WOW!
Of course this was a clear indication he was done with the blankie, right?? You and me, both. The next day he was crying for it at regular intervals. My son has a very strong will and doesn’t take no for an answer. But, we made it the next two days. Unfortunately, Dapo didn’t know the whereabouts of the blanket due to my negligence to tell him. I was doing laundry that weekend and asked him to help me switch the clothes over. Jimi walked around the corner as he was pulling the blanket out of the dryer. Back to square one.
It is hard to believe it has “only” been two and a half weeks. But, to literally add insult to injury, Jimi has been banging his head on his crib at night. This was happening before the blanket was taken away. It started around Easter when we took his binky away. At bed time we would put him in the crib, and then suddenly he’s hungry, needs to potty, blankie, read, pray, Daddy, Mommy, Elmo…anything to get out.
We put our proverbial foot down, making sure he had all of those things before bed and then firmly telling him it was night time. None of that seemed to matter, because he didn’t want to go to bed. He therefore began pounding his head on the crib. Not just dully knocking, forcefully throwing. Check out my All Things Eso photo album on facebook, you can see early pictures of the damages, which don't really do it justice.
If you are a mother, or a person who is not void of a soul, then you will realize this is a very hard thing to watch and/or know is occurring in the next room. It would make me want to cry and/or cry, night after night. He would get such a look on his face when I would put him down in the crib that it made me feel like I was abandoning him. I could tell that’s how he felt, too. But, I was just in the next room. It’s not like I was dropping him off somewhere to go smoke crack. Just going to go do the dishes! Nonetheless, he looked at me with what seemed to be such terror and begging me not to do this to him. I still see that look from one night in particular very vividly.
So, I thought he felt trapped, like I was sending him to prison. Since he has a convertible crib, I asked Dapo if he would take the front rail off so we could convert to a “big boy bed”. Dapo did, and we did, but he didn’t. He still had three other sides to hit his head on, and let us know about it. Plus, now he could get out. It was constant up and “get back into bed” for a good two-three hours every night time AND nap time. All you math wizards out there know this was at least a fourth of my day. My time is being stolen, and I need that time!
On June 16th, I had been talking to the Lord about a project that has been on my heart to do for several years. The word that God spoke to our church at the turn of this year was that it would be an extraordinary year. A year of miracles, signs and wonders. Harvest time. It’s my season; my time. So this project, you see, is extraordinary. It requires some extraordinary resources. I devoted myself to Him to actually do this project and walk it out by faith on that same day. I find it to be no coincidence that I consecrated myself to use my time wisely (hence the facebook hiatus) when this time-stealing behavior began. I realize I had my hand in it, unbeknownst to myself, but this is important in understanding the magnitude of my frustration with the situation.
So these get-back-into-bed sessions were starting around 8 at bedtime, and lasting until 10:30 or 11. It was putting a strain on both of us, because we were then not able to get to bed until around midnight or one. Then because he was going to bed upset, he would wake up in the middle of the night and crawl into bed with us. We started locking our door, which he bangs with his head, of course. We are also waking up around 5 every day with Lorin. Jimi usually hears Lorin and gets up with her.
Alright, he must be scared of falling off, right? So, let’s move the mattress onto the floor. That was Friday, so it has been four nights since then. Still nothing. These last two weeks, I have taken several approaches to it. I’ve tried picking him up and placing him in the bed; sending him back to bed; switching him back to bed; yelling him back to bed; singing him back to bed; praying him back to bed; laying hands on him back to bed; and so on. I suppose it goes without saying (well, I guess not, since I’m saying it) that Dapo’s and my relationship has taken a bit more stress on because we aren’t having time to spend with each other after the kids go to bed. On the nights that Jimi helps himself to our bed, our sleep is interrupted by that as well.
Further exacerbating the problem is that I began to come off of Zoloft (an anti-depressant for PPD) on June 11th. Thank God for that! My dreams had gone beyond vivid, and my doctor said it was attributed to that drug. My doctor decreased my dosage on the 11th, and on the 25th took me off of it entirely. The point here is that I was a little wobbly emotionally, like after you take the training wheels off of your bike.
Another extenuating circumstance is that I have not been able to go to the gym these last few weeks, because he is also only getting about seven hours of sleep a DAY. He tends to have greater trouble listening and gets rowdy and frenetic when he is tired.
The first Sunday of the month we have Saturation Meetings at church. Usually my pastor lays hand on everyone who wants hands laid on them. I had determined on Friday that I was going to have pastor lay hands on Jimi and me for this, because I have had enough! I am seeking God’s wisdom on what will work for my boy, because my heart aches for him and my body longs for sleep. I was determined this was going to end this weekend. If you were at this service, you may have seen me expressing some victory. If you weren’t at the service, think Chris Farley in Tommy Boy when he is attacked by bees; with a Bible.
So I now have a new attitude, more grace, and hope for an end. I can really feel it getting better, but I am still working out my salvation. He is only resisting bed time and nap time for an hour now, and the Holy Spirit is constantly showing me things I can do to diffuse the situation. I am looking to my inner man to receive advice from the Great Counselor, with each situation.
Obviously, he is still waking up in the middle of the night, but going back to bed within the hour it took me to write this (less all the up and down).
God is faithful, His way is perfect and His word is proven. He is a shield to all who trust in Him!
Saturday, May 9, 2009
Mighty Protector
When Dapo graduated from the U of Utah and got the job offer here in Huntsville, we came here on a home finding trip. Our realtor drove us around looking at houses. At one point in time she referred to “The Tornado” (I later learned she was talking about the Airport Road tornado). “Tornado?!!” I said. I was surprised to hear that tornadoes were a regular occurrence around this area. Here I thought my biggest hurdle to overcome was going to be bugs! She then assuaged me by going into great depth about the technology that the local weather stations have and how the stations compete with each other to give the best coverage. Tornadoes were not mentioned anywhere in our relocation packet!
We knew this was the right place for us to be. It took me a long time to adjust to the thought of hundred-mile-an-hour twisting winds a la Wizard of Oz and Twister. In fact, I have averaged a tornado dream about once every week or two since moving here. There were times when I was pregnant with both kids that I would have week long stretches of tornado dreams.
Tuesday night I had a dream that a tornado was coming for the house. It was a tight, skinny one and there was no time to waste! I yelled at Dapo to grab one of the babies and go. He just sat there sleeping! I yelled at him again, Dapo grab one of the babies, to which he finally woke up and just sat there. I yelled a third time GRAB ONE OF THE BABIES! And woke myself up out of my dream.
I guess it didn’t help that the weather radio had been going off at hourly intervals throughout the night. They were for severe thunderstorm watch, then warning, then flood watch, then warning, etc. At 5 am it went off again and I asked Dapo to go get it. When he returned to bed, I asked what it was for. He told me he didn’t stay to read it or listen. I didn’t give it any thought, and went back to sleep.
On Wednesdays I have Physical Therapy in Madison at 9 am. For those of you who live here, it is by Bender’s Gym on Hughes and Mill Rd. I live just off of Wall Triana, and so I take it all the way to Mill to get to PT. I was right by West Madison Elementary when I heard the tornado sirens going off. I had no idea there was severe weather, so that caught me by surprise. I rolled down my window to make sure that’s what I was hearing. I know that the sirens are county-wide, so I wasn’t too concerned and I turned off my CD to listen to the local station. They had said that there was the tightest rotation they had seen all day near 565/Hwy 20 and County Line road, moving east at 35 mph. EEK! I kept driving knowing that I was only about 5 minutes from PT and also knowing that I only had about 5 minutes to run for cover.
I knew I was right in its general direction, and put the pedal to the metal. I called Dapo, who was meeting me at PT, thinking if it was on Hwy 20 and moving east it was going to be headed towards him. I was on Mill and Wall Triana when the atmosphere changed, it started getting very ominous and windy and rainy. I thought about ducking into the church but decided against it, and drove to PT. I got there shortly after 9, and ran quickly inside with the kids.
It was not until my appointment had ended and I was driving home that I realized it was not Dapo who had been in danger! I had no idea how close I had been to that EF-2 tornado. One of the people from the apartment that lost its roof said she heard the sirens and when the sirens stopped was when it hit. And, I was just driving by! I was amazed to see such huge OLD trees snapped in half, uprooted, like it was nothing.
The greatest part of the story is that when I was getting ready, I had wanted to spend a few more minutes on my hair and I just decided that if I could get the kids ready first and still had time I would, but otherwise this would have to do. By the time I got them ready it was 8:38 and I knew I didn’t have any more time. I shudder to think of what might’ve happened had I not listened to the still, small voice inside of me and continued to style my hair.
God be praised, for under His wings I take refuge! As Psalm 71:7,8 says, “My success-at which so many stand amazed-is because you are my mighty protector. All day long I’ll praise and honor you, O God, for all that you have done for me”. (TLB)
A tree and fence on Mill Road
Mill Road Tree - the root bulb was as tall as the fence!
Mill Road House
Mill Road House
Mill Road House - it was amazing to see amongst all the damage it was like the tornado skipped over houses and to take out fences and trees.
Mill Road House
Above the Miller Lite truck is a billboard on County Line as seen from Mill Rd
Browns Ferry Rd...above my side mirror you can see the trees that were snapped off and are falling
Browns Ferry Rd
Browns Ferry Rd
This is a house on Wall Triana Hwy by W Madison Elementary
We knew this was the right place for us to be. It took me a long time to adjust to the thought of hundred-mile-an-hour twisting winds a la Wizard of Oz and Twister. In fact, I have averaged a tornado dream about once every week or two since moving here. There were times when I was pregnant with both kids that I would have week long stretches of tornado dreams.
Tuesday night I had a dream that a tornado was coming for the house. It was a tight, skinny one and there was no time to waste! I yelled at Dapo to grab one of the babies and go. He just sat there sleeping! I yelled at him again, Dapo grab one of the babies, to which he finally woke up and just sat there. I yelled a third time GRAB ONE OF THE BABIES! And woke myself up out of my dream.
I guess it didn’t help that the weather radio had been going off at hourly intervals throughout the night. They were for severe thunderstorm watch, then warning, then flood watch, then warning, etc. At 5 am it went off again and I asked Dapo to go get it. When he returned to bed, I asked what it was for. He told me he didn’t stay to read it or listen. I didn’t give it any thought, and went back to sleep.
On Wednesdays I have Physical Therapy in Madison at 9 am. For those of you who live here, it is by Bender’s Gym on Hughes and Mill Rd. I live just off of Wall Triana, and so I take it all the way to Mill to get to PT. I was right by West Madison Elementary when I heard the tornado sirens going off. I had no idea there was severe weather, so that caught me by surprise. I rolled down my window to make sure that’s what I was hearing. I know that the sirens are county-wide, so I wasn’t too concerned and I turned off my CD to listen to the local station. They had said that there was the tightest rotation they had seen all day near 565/Hwy 20 and County Line road, moving east at 35 mph. EEK! I kept driving knowing that I was only about 5 minutes from PT and also knowing that I only had about 5 minutes to run for cover.
I knew I was right in its general direction, and put the pedal to the metal. I called Dapo, who was meeting me at PT, thinking if it was on Hwy 20 and moving east it was going to be headed towards him. I was on Mill and Wall Triana when the atmosphere changed, it started getting very ominous and windy and rainy. I thought about ducking into the church but decided against it, and drove to PT. I got there shortly after 9, and ran quickly inside with the kids.
It was not until my appointment had ended and I was driving home that I realized it was not Dapo who had been in danger! I had no idea how close I had been to that EF-2 tornado. One of the people from the apartment that lost its roof said she heard the sirens and when the sirens stopped was when it hit. And, I was just driving by! I was amazed to see such huge OLD trees snapped in half, uprooted, like it was nothing.
The greatest part of the story is that when I was getting ready, I had wanted to spend a few more minutes on my hair and I just decided that if I could get the kids ready first and still had time I would, but otherwise this would have to do. By the time I got them ready it was 8:38 and I knew I didn’t have any more time. I shudder to think of what might’ve happened had I not listened to the still, small voice inside of me and continued to style my hair.
God be praised, for under His wings I take refuge! As Psalm 71:7,8 says, “My success-at which so many stand amazed-is because you are my mighty protector. All day long I’ll praise and honor you, O God, for all that you have done for me”. (TLB)
A tree and fence on Mill Road
Mill Road Tree - the root bulb was as tall as the fence!
Mill Road House
Mill Road House
Mill Road House - it was amazing to see amongst all the damage it was like the tornado skipped over houses and to take out fences and trees.
Mill Road House
Above the Miller Lite truck is a billboard on County Line as seen from Mill Rd
Browns Ferry Rd...above my side mirror you can see the trees that were snapped off and are falling
Browns Ferry Rd
Browns Ferry Rd
This is a house on Wall Triana Hwy by W Madison Elementary
Saturday, April 4, 2009
Bucka Fairy?
I know, it has been ages since I have had any food for thought. If it makes you feel better, I was also having trouble finding food for nourishment. I am doing better now, thanks for asking, and am enjoying cooking again as well as eating.
I finally have both kids down, Dapo is gone and it is just me! I really have been spending most of my time on facebook and putting most of my thoughts up there...so I now have a story to tell on my blog.
When I was a kid my parents taught me about Santa. Every Christmas we'd write our Christmas letter to Santa, along with one item we wanted Santa to bring us. On Christmas Eve we'd make cookies and leave one out with a glass of milk. We would hang stockings on the chimney with care. We awoke with great anticipation on Christmas morning to find the cookies were gone and find the aforementioned stockings loaded with goodies and fruit and perhaps a small toy. Santa was so good about bringing exactly what I had asked for! Christmas was the most wonderful time of the year!
When I was in the third grade I would have been 8, almost 9 years old. I was going to a private school at the time and we were learning songs for the Christmas special. I said something about Santa, and one of the boys in class told me "There is no such thing as Santa, stupid!" The whole class laughed and laughed about how funny it was that Kari still believed in Santa. What's worse, I defended my views retorting, "Of course there's a Santa, who puts presents under your tree, then?" "Your parents, DUH!" More laughter ensued. So now not only was I humiliated, but I had learned that my parents had been lying to me for over 8 years. NO SANTA?? Why had they done this to me?!
The teacher actually had to take me into the hall and calm me down because I was crying and she knew that I had just had my little world shook upside down. Of course, this is the same teacher who would smack your knuckles with a ruler if you got out of line, but today she was emoting compassion.
I wound up forgiving my parents, but promised myself I would never do that to my children. No Santa. No Easter Bunny. No Tooth Fairy. I just didn't see any reason to make up a lie just to let them down later. I would have been just fine if my parents had eaten the cookies, stuffed the stocking and bought the present all those years.
But what about the Binky Fairy??? This last week has been a hard week on all of us as we've taken the pacifier away from Jimi. He was rather attached to it. I've had several people suggest we explain to him the binky fairy has come and taken the binkies away and gave them to other little babies. It worked for them, they say!
I'm torn by this for two reasons. One, I think Jimi would not be as giving as my friends' children. I think the sight of the binky (or bucka, as he calls it) would send him into a tissy. Two, I think the Binky Fairy would have to fall into the same category as Santa, the Easter Bunny and the Tooth Fairy. You know, a convenient lie I tell to make it easier to live amongst the status quo? To each his own.
Thanks for the suggestions, though. I think I will just have to tough it out and keep singing him to sleep until he gets over it. He still asks for it at every nap and bedtime. He also asks for it at various intervals during the day. He has torn up the house three days in a row looking for it in every drawer he can open (and he can open them all ever since he figured out how to open the "childproof locks").
I take solace in the fact I am doing the best thing for him, even if it is hard on me.
I finally have both kids down, Dapo is gone and it is just me! I really have been spending most of my time on facebook and putting most of my thoughts up there...so I now have a story to tell on my blog.
When I was a kid my parents taught me about Santa. Every Christmas we'd write our Christmas letter to Santa, along with one item we wanted Santa to bring us. On Christmas Eve we'd make cookies and leave one out with a glass of milk. We would hang stockings on the chimney with care. We awoke with great anticipation on Christmas morning to find the cookies were gone and find the aforementioned stockings loaded with goodies and fruit and perhaps a small toy. Santa was so good about bringing exactly what I had asked for! Christmas was the most wonderful time of the year!
When I was in the third grade I would have been 8, almost 9 years old. I was going to a private school at the time and we were learning songs for the Christmas special. I said something about Santa, and one of the boys in class told me "There is no such thing as Santa, stupid!" The whole class laughed and laughed about how funny it was that Kari still believed in Santa. What's worse, I defended my views retorting, "Of course there's a Santa, who puts presents under your tree, then?" "Your parents, DUH!" More laughter ensued. So now not only was I humiliated, but I had learned that my parents had been lying to me for over 8 years. NO SANTA?? Why had they done this to me?!
The teacher actually had to take me into the hall and calm me down because I was crying and she knew that I had just had my little world shook upside down. Of course, this is the same teacher who would smack your knuckles with a ruler if you got out of line, but today she was emoting compassion.
I wound up forgiving my parents, but promised myself I would never do that to my children. No Santa. No Easter Bunny. No Tooth Fairy. I just didn't see any reason to make up a lie just to let them down later. I would have been just fine if my parents had eaten the cookies, stuffed the stocking and bought the present all those years.
But what about the Binky Fairy??? This last week has been a hard week on all of us as we've taken the pacifier away from Jimi. He was rather attached to it. I've had several people suggest we explain to him the binky fairy has come and taken the binkies away and gave them to other little babies. It worked for them, they say!
I'm torn by this for two reasons. One, I think Jimi would not be as giving as my friends' children. I think the sight of the binky (or bucka, as he calls it) would send him into a tissy. Two, I think the Binky Fairy would have to fall into the same category as Santa, the Easter Bunny and the Tooth Fairy. You know, a convenient lie I tell to make it easier to live amongst the status quo? To each his own.
Thanks for the suggestions, though. I think I will just have to tough it out and keep singing him to sleep until he gets over it. He still asks for it at every nap and bedtime. He also asks for it at various intervals during the day. He has torn up the house three days in a row looking for it in every drawer he can open (and he can open them all ever since he figured out how to open the "childproof locks").
I take solace in the fact I am doing the best thing for him, even if it is hard on me.
Saturday, February 21, 2009
Big Let Down
Today I was at Publix and walked down the ethnic food aisle in search of pinto beans. I walked by coconut milk and saw the label also had the words "coco de leche". Seeing the Spanish word "leche" (milk) reminded me of the La Leche League, a breastfeeding support group. I broke down and cried, right there on aisle six. That was a "defining moment" for me. Once I regained my composure, I knew I had to make a decision about my breastfeeding efforts.
What's the problem, you ask? My coconuts don't make milk. I didn't with Jimi, either. I have heard, though, that with the second child things can be different breastfeeding-wise and so I had hopes that they would be and I would be able to feed Lorin exclusively with breast milk.
Lorin turned three weeks old yesterday and I have done everything in my power to try to make my body a living, breathing milk factory since then. I saw a lactation consultant the Monday following her birth, rented the most expensive Medela hospital-grade pump (all the while praying Jimi wouldn't break it somehow!), went straight to Nurturing Moments for an herbal supplement called More Milk Plus, and kept a positive attitude.
I put in the hard work nursing requires. There is the nurse, burp, change sides, burp, then supplement, burp, more supplement, pump routine. This was a good hour of my day each time. I could cut it down to 35-45 min if someone else fed Lorin the formula. But, I was doing this round the clock every 2 to 2 1/2 hrs.
I remember with Jimi the LC suggested the same herbal supplement and it gave me a headache so bad that I took it back. I tried the capsules this time, rather than the liquid form, hoping it might change the results. It didn't. Which was a bummer, because it did seem to really work after about six days or so. So I asked Dr. Rushing to give me a Reglan prescription, which he did. However, it requires you to eat 1/2 hr after taking them, and I am having a hard time finding my appetite lately. Also, I have a history of PPD and Reglan is not advised for people with a history of depression. So, both of those were out.
I only pump out about 5 ounces a day. Some women are able to do this in one sitting. I guess I am making a little more than that total, because I am also nursing Lorin, but the two times I had her weighed pre and post feeding she only took about 1/2 ounce from the breast total.
I spent the day wondering if I was quitting right before the magic began to happen. You know, right before the break through? I also wondered if throwing in the towel made me less of a mother, less of a woman, less of a believer. Of course, a lot of these feelings are just hormones talking. As a dear friend put it, even though I was trying to give my daughter breast milk for all the right reasons, I was not robbing her of anything because I was deciding to stop for all the right reasons-to be there for her emotionally.
Friday was my first day alone with both children, and I found myself not having time to pump. There was one stretch of the day I spent two hours with Lorin trying to figure out what was wrong, feeding, burping, rocking, changing etc. Jimi was there wanting my attention (and deserving it) as well. He kept bringing me books to read, puzzles to play with, legos, and it broke my heart, because I didn't have the time to do it like I used to. So pumping quickly lost out on the battle for my time.
Without time to pump, what am I really left with, as far as a way to stimulate my body into making more milk? So that is what led me to decide it was time to call it quits
My mom told me that she had to formula feed both my brother and I and we turned out alright. I formula fed Jimi and he is a pretty sharp kid also. I know she'll do just fine on formula. She won't ever remember it, either. And I'll be fine, too.
I have really not ever felt a let down, which ironically, turns out to be a big let down.
What's the problem, you ask? My coconuts don't make milk. I didn't with Jimi, either. I have heard, though, that with the second child things can be different breastfeeding-wise and so I had hopes that they would be and I would be able to feed Lorin exclusively with breast milk.
Lorin turned three weeks old yesterday and I have done everything in my power to try to make my body a living, breathing milk factory since then. I saw a lactation consultant the Monday following her birth, rented the most expensive Medela hospital-grade pump (all the while praying Jimi wouldn't break it somehow!), went straight to Nurturing Moments for an herbal supplement called More Milk Plus, and kept a positive attitude.
I put in the hard work nursing requires. There is the nurse, burp, change sides, burp, then supplement, burp, more supplement, pump routine. This was a good hour of my day each time. I could cut it down to 35-45 min if someone else fed Lorin the formula. But, I was doing this round the clock every 2 to 2 1/2 hrs.
I remember with Jimi the LC suggested the same herbal supplement and it gave me a headache so bad that I took it back. I tried the capsules this time, rather than the liquid form, hoping it might change the results. It didn't. Which was a bummer, because it did seem to really work after about six days or so. So I asked Dr. Rushing to give me a Reglan prescription, which he did. However, it requires you to eat 1/2 hr after taking them, and I am having a hard time finding my appetite lately. Also, I have a history of PPD and Reglan is not advised for people with a history of depression. So, both of those were out.
I only pump out about 5 ounces a day. Some women are able to do this in one sitting. I guess I am making a little more than that total, because I am also nursing Lorin, but the two times I had her weighed pre and post feeding she only took about 1/2 ounce from the breast total.
I spent the day wondering if I was quitting right before the magic began to happen. You know, right before the break through? I also wondered if throwing in the towel made me less of a mother, less of a woman, less of a believer. Of course, a lot of these feelings are just hormones talking. As a dear friend put it, even though I was trying to give my daughter breast milk for all the right reasons, I was not robbing her of anything because I was deciding to stop for all the right reasons-to be there for her emotionally.
Friday was my first day alone with both children, and I found myself not having time to pump. There was one stretch of the day I spent two hours with Lorin trying to figure out what was wrong, feeding, burping, rocking, changing etc. Jimi was there wanting my attention (and deserving it) as well. He kept bringing me books to read, puzzles to play with, legos, and it broke my heart, because I didn't have the time to do it like I used to. So pumping quickly lost out on the battle for my time.
Without time to pump, what am I really left with, as far as a way to stimulate my body into making more milk? So that is what led me to decide it was time to call it quits
My mom told me that she had to formula feed both my brother and I and we turned out alright. I formula fed Jimi and he is a pretty sharp kid also. I know she'll do just fine on formula. She won't ever remember it, either. And I'll be fine, too.
I have really not ever felt a let down, which ironically, turns out to be a big let down.
Tuesday, January 27, 2009
Naming Ceremony
This post is SPECIAL for all of my out of town friends and family. There are a lot of you! I am overwhelmed to have so many beautiful people following my pregnancy and interested in my progress. I thought I would share a quick blog about what exactly a naming ceremony is, since it is not part of our English/American culture.
First, for a bit of a history lesson. My husband, Oladapo, is a native of Nigeria, of the Yoruba tribe. The name of his tribe is also the name of his tribe's language, Yoruba. You can always tell by someone's name what tribe they belong to. In Dapo's immediate family, their names begin with or contain the phrases "Ola", "Olu", "Ayo", such as Oladapo Olufemi Temitayo, Olakunle, Olamide, Diekolola, Olabambo and Kayode. My son, Olujimi Ayomide Toluwani, is named likewise.
When we married I always told Dapo we lived in America and should name our children accordingly, so they wouldn't be teased or made fun of. However, when I became pregnant with Jimi my heart changed, and I wanted my husband's children to know where they came from and had only a few restrictions on what I was willing to name them. For instance, if I couldn't pronounce it properly, the name went out the window. There are a few names that I can't say right because of the language.
I was elated when I found Olujimi was a name, and that he would go by Jimi, because what American has never heard of Jimi? Right? We all know or know of a Jim, or a Jimmy, or a guitar shredding Jimi. It just so happens my dad's name is Jim, short for James. So we kind of accomplished two goals with one name; bestowing a traditional Yoruba name on my son while making it an American name as well. I am happy to say that this baby will also have a Yoruba name while also having an English name. We finally settled on her name shortly before Christmas.
Which leads me to the announcing of the name. In Nigeria they have what is called a naming ceremony. It is similar to our baby showers in that the families that come bring gifts, and similiar to a baby dedication as well.
The ceremony is performed 7-9 days AFTER the birth of the baby, and the entire community is invited. Any of you who know Nigierians know they like to party. And party all night, usually! People come and bring gifts to the parents of the child, and then an officiant will announce the baby's name, then introduce the baby to certain elements that the father picks out. Naming ceremonies are done a little differently by pagans than by Christians, as in a Christian naming ceremony you would not introduce the baby to the god of iron, but you might if you were a pagan who believed in this deity. We are obviously only interested in the parts of the ceremony that are going to glorify God.
We are introducing the same elements to this baby as we did to Jimi. They are water, salt, honey, fruit wine, the Bible, and money. Each element is given to the baby to taste, except for the money, it is given to the baby's hand to grasp. It is believed that she will make good use of money, and not for evil if she does. You are sort of decreeing things over her life with each element. For example, with salt: when any person is said to be as salt to his people, it means he brings joy, happiness, and even sweetness where there is bitterness.
It will open with a hymn, name and meaning announcement, have the element introduction, then a part of the program that is like a baby dedication, close with prayer and then the party begins. They feast and make merry till the wee hours of the morning.
In Nigeria, this is the custom and the way things are done. Here, however, our custom is that you don't leave the hospital until you have a birth certificate with a name on it! So, obviously she must be named, just as Jimi was, before leaving the hospital. And, we will likely announce her name unofficially in correspondence when she is born, just as we did with Jimi. Then, as many of you as we are able to cram into our house will come and party with us on February 8th and hear the official name!
Feel free to ask more questions, I'll update this with answers.
First, for a bit of a history lesson. My husband, Oladapo, is a native of Nigeria, of the Yoruba tribe. The name of his tribe is also the name of his tribe's language, Yoruba. You can always tell by someone's name what tribe they belong to. In Dapo's immediate family, their names begin with or contain the phrases "Ola", "Olu", "Ayo", such as Oladapo Olufemi Temitayo, Olakunle, Olamide, Diekolola, Olabambo and Kayode. My son, Olujimi Ayomide Toluwani, is named likewise.
When we married I always told Dapo we lived in America and should name our children accordingly, so they wouldn't be teased or made fun of. However, when I became pregnant with Jimi my heart changed, and I wanted my husband's children to know where they came from and had only a few restrictions on what I was willing to name them. For instance, if I couldn't pronounce it properly, the name went out the window. There are a few names that I can't say right because of the language.
I was elated when I found Olujimi was a name, and that he would go by Jimi, because what American has never heard of Jimi? Right? We all know or know of a Jim, or a Jimmy, or a guitar shredding Jimi. It just so happens my dad's name is Jim, short for James. So we kind of accomplished two goals with one name; bestowing a traditional Yoruba name on my son while making it an American name as well. I am happy to say that this baby will also have a Yoruba name while also having an English name. We finally settled on her name shortly before Christmas.
Which leads me to the announcing of the name. In Nigeria they have what is called a naming ceremony. It is similar to our baby showers in that the families that come bring gifts, and similiar to a baby dedication as well.
The ceremony is performed 7-9 days AFTER the birth of the baby, and the entire community is invited. Any of you who know Nigierians know they like to party. And party all night, usually! People come and bring gifts to the parents of the child, and then an officiant will announce the baby's name, then introduce the baby to certain elements that the father picks out. Naming ceremonies are done a little differently by pagans than by Christians, as in a Christian naming ceremony you would not introduce the baby to the god of iron, but you might if you were a pagan who believed in this deity. We are obviously only interested in the parts of the ceremony that are going to glorify God.
We are introducing the same elements to this baby as we did to Jimi. They are water, salt, honey, fruit wine, the Bible, and money. Each element is given to the baby to taste, except for the money, it is given to the baby's hand to grasp. It is believed that she will make good use of money, and not for evil if she does. You are sort of decreeing things over her life with each element. For example, with salt: when any person is said to be as salt to his people, it means he brings joy, happiness, and even sweetness where there is bitterness.
It will open with a hymn, name and meaning announcement, have the element introduction, then a part of the program that is like a baby dedication, close with prayer and then the party begins. They feast and make merry till the wee hours of the morning.
In Nigeria, this is the custom and the way things are done. Here, however, our custom is that you don't leave the hospital until you have a birth certificate with a name on it! So, obviously she must be named, just as Jimi was, before leaving the hospital. And, we will likely announce her name unofficially in correspondence when she is born, just as we did with Jimi. Then, as many of you as we are able to cram into our house will come and party with us on February 8th and hear the official name!
Feel free to ask more questions, I'll update this with answers.
Friday the 30th
They say all good things must come an end. This is especially true of pregnancy! I had my weekly OB visit and my blood pressure was 144/88, I gained one pound and the heartbeat was 155. She did not wiggle and squirm as much today, I suspect she must be engaged and didn't have as much liberty to do so.
Dr. Rushing said I am dilated to "a good 3", am both thinning and softening and she is still "a little high". He said hold on and left the exam room. I told the nurse that must be good because he never leaves and comes back. He asked what am I doing on Friday? I said, having this baby, I hope!
He did tell me if my water breaks or I start contracting that I need to "come on". I relayed to him that I am not interested in keeping this child in my body any longer than absolutely necessary, so not to worry about me trying to "wait it out" till Friday!
We had Jimi on a Friday, also, Friday the 13th. It is nice because you have the weekend in the hospital and then spend a full week at home by yourselves. My parents are coming in the following Friday, the 6th. So this means we are moving the naming ceremony for the baby back a week to Sunday the 8th.
We don't know that we will have internet access in the hospital, so don't expect pix and/or updates until next week. If we can post them sooner, we'll surprise you! Till then...
Dr. Rushing said I am dilated to "a good 3", am both thinning and softening and she is still "a little high". He said hold on and left the exam room. I told the nurse that must be good because he never leaves and comes back. He asked what am I doing on Friday? I said, having this baby, I hope!
He did tell me if my water breaks or I start contracting that I need to "come on". I relayed to him that I am not interested in keeping this child in my body any longer than absolutely necessary, so not to worry about me trying to "wait it out" till Friday!
We had Jimi on a Friday, also, Friday the 13th. It is nice because you have the weekend in the hospital and then spend a full week at home by yourselves. My parents are coming in the following Friday, the 6th. So this means we are moving the naming ceremony for the baby back a week to Sunday the 8th.
We don't know that we will have internet access in the hospital, so don't expect pix and/or updates until next week. If we can post them sooner, we'll surprise you! Till then...
Tuesday, January 20, 2009
Still Comfy
Update on OB visit...I think I might've gained a pound, and my blood pressure was 138/84. The baby hid from the doppler radar...just as she has the entire pregnancy. When the nurse couldn't find the heartbeat, they brought in Dr. Rushing, and he couldn't get it, either. They wound up sending me to ultrasound to see the heartbeat. I was not worried, as you could see the glob of baby turning from one side of my stomach to the other as she tried to outrun the nurse. The placenta was right on top of her heart, so that's why that was all they could hear. When we went into the ultrasound room, the technician said, "oh, dear, these last few days are the hardest. I can always see it on the mother's faces". I guess I should have worn makeup??
Dr. Rushing checked me and I am finally dilated, albeit only to 2 cm. However, the baby is still high, so there will be no induction. She must be comfortable. I am glad one of us is. Dr. Rushing did make me feel better by telling me if I can be patient and let my body do this myself, I will be more successful than if he does induces me. True, true.
Dr. Rushing also said IF I make it to my appointment next Tuesday we will pick a date for inducing. I like how he makes it sound so conditional, as though there is hope that this child wants to come where she can stretch her legs a little.
So, another week to go. At this point in my pregnancy with Jimi, I was checking into the hospital at 4 cm. Whoever said the subsequent pregnancies come sooner fed me a big fat helping of lies! Nonetheless, I am reminded of Isaiah 66:9, which says:
"Shall I bring to the time of birth, and not cause delivery?" says the Lord. "Shall I who cause delivery shut up the womb?" says your God.
and Psalm 71:6:
By You I have been upheld from birth; You are He who took me out of my mother's womb. My praise shall be continually of You.
Dr. Rushing checked me and I am finally dilated, albeit only to 2 cm. However, the baby is still high, so there will be no induction. She must be comfortable. I am glad one of us is. Dr. Rushing did make me feel better by telling me if I can be patient and let my body do this myself, I will be more successful than if he does induces me. True, true.
Dr. Rushing also said IF I make it to my appointment next Tuesday we will pick a date for inducing. I like how he makes it sound so conditional, as though there is hope that this child wants to come where she can stretch her legs a little.
So, another week to go. At this point in my pregnancy with Jimi, I was checking into the hospital at 4 cm. Whoever said the subsequent pregnancies come sooner fed me a big fat helping of lies! Nonetheless, I am reminded of Isaiah 66:9, which says:
"Shall I bring to the time of birth, and not cause delivery?" says the Lord. "Shall I who cause delivery shut up the womb?" says your God.
and Psalm 71:6:
By You I have been upheld from birth; You are He who took me out of my mother's womb. My praise shall be continually of You.
Tuesday, January 13, 2009
43 1/2 weeks
My mom has never been shy about letting me know that I was born nearly a month late. She has also never failed to inform me of the 10 lbs and 12 ounces that I weighed at said late delivery. I used to laugh about it, but then one day I heard that daughters usually follow their mother's pregnancy/labor/delivery patterns. Uh oh...
Well, those were the days when OB's would let women go excruciatingly long over due with children. Apparently they weren't big (pardon the pun) on monitoring weight gain, either. My mother had horrible acquaintances that, in her words, came over just to see if she could really still fit through the door. She was 120 lbs pre-pregnancy, and gained 95 pounds with me, nearly doubling her weight. She must have been so miserable!
I saw my doctor today. I will be 38 weeks on Thursday, and he had said if "conditions were favorable" he would induce me at that time. No such luck! I am not dilated and the baby is content to stay on my bladder for another however long. I did get Dr. Rushing to promise not to let me go 43 1/2 weeks. I tried to get him to swear I wouldn't tear, either, but he was not willing to give his word on that one. My blood pressure was its usual self at 138/88 and I gained a pound.
We had to wait a little longer than usual, but Jimi was SO well behaved, I was SO proud of him. I did enlist the help of the nurse to get Dr. R to give me an ultrasound to either confirm or dispel my suspicions that the baby is gargantuan. I mentioned to Jennifer that some of my friends who had gestational diabetes had ultrasounds to make sure the baby was not too big, and that was why I wanted it. Once I mentioned that, it seemed she was willing to try to help my cause (I may or may not have said it, but I have been asking for an ultrasound for about 2 months now).
When a room was available, the nurse came and got me and took me to...ultrasound! Yea! Too bad Dapo had a work meeting today and couldn't join me. Dr. Rushing measured the baby's head, found some kind of limb to measure, and did some general picture taking. I didn't recognize too much, but at some point thought I could make out her hand over eyes. Her head is 8 point something cm diameter, and all of the various things which were measured showed her right around 37/38 weeks. Best of all, the estimated fetal weight was 7 pounds, 3 ounces. My doctor likes to make sure you don't get your hopes fixated on anything, so he added, within +/- 15%, so she could weigh up to 8 lbs.
I have come to terms with the fact she is probably a little like her mother, and just doesn't want to see this big, bright world yet. I suspect she is just waiting to be born under President Obama's administration. 8 pounds? I'll take it, even if I can't take it now.
Well, those were the days when OB's would let women go excruciatingly long over due with children. Apparently they weren't big (pardon the pun) on monitoring weight gain, either. My mother had horrible acquaintances that, in her words, came over just to see if she could really still fit through the door. She was 120 lbs pre-pregnancy, and gained 95 pounds with me, nearly doubling her weight. She must have been so miserable!
I saw my doctor today. I will be 38 weeks on Thursday, and he had said if "conditions were favorable" he would induce me at that time. No such luck! I am not dilated and the baby is content to stay on my bladder for another however long. I did get Dr. Rushing to promise not to let me go 43 1/2 weeks. I tried to get him to swear I wouldn't tear, either, but he was not willing to give his word on that one. My blood pressure was its usual self at 138/88 and I gained a pound.
We had to wait a little longer than usual, but Jimi was SO well behaved, I was SO proud of him. I did enlist the help of the nurse to get Dr. R to give me an ultrasound to either confirm or dispel my suspicions that the baby is gargantuan. I mentioned to Jennifer that some of my friends who had gestational diabetes had ultrasounds to make sure the baby was not too big, and that was why I wanted it. Once I mentioned that, it seemed she was willing to try to help my cause (I may or may not have said it, but I have been asking for an ultrasound for about 2 months now).
When a room was available, the nurse came and got me and took me to...ultrasound! Yea! Too bad Dapo had a work meeting today and couldn't join me. Dr. Rushing measured the baby's head, found some kind of limb to measure, and did some general picture taking. I didn't recognize too much, but at some point thought I could make out her hand over eyes. Her head is 8 point something cm diameter, and all of the various things which were measured showed her right around 37/38 weeks. Best of all, the estimated fetal weight was 7 pounds, 3 ounces. My doctor likes to make sure you don't get your hopes fixated on anything, so he added, within +/- 15%, so she could weigh up to 8 lbs.
I have come to terms with the fact she is probably a little like her mother, and just doesn't want to see this big, bright world yet. I suspect she is just waiting to be born under President Obama's administration. 8 pounds? I'll take it, even if I can't take it now.
Monday, January 12, 2009
Good Boy
After opening our presents on Christmas, my living room looked as though a cardboard bomb had exploded. There was a lot of wrapping paper, too, but mostly cardboard boxes from the various shipments Grammy sent and Mommy got online. Some boxes were too big and cumbersome to wrap, so they just got a bow. The drums were one such present.
Jimi is really starting to be helpful of late, so Dapo started showing him how to throw the wrapping paper away in the garbage. In retrospect, we should have used a black trash bag for this task, but as they say: live and learn. We were so proud of our little helper that every small fistful of paper that went into the garbage brought laudations of "Good Boy!".
Since that glorious Christmas morn, we have come to find various household items in the trash. A shoe, socks, remote, telephone, and legos, just to name a few, have been tossed into the garbage at Jimi's whim.
On Sunday I came home from church and was on the phone with my mom. Jimi is usually ready for a nap by this time, and since he snacks at church, he goes straight to bed when we arrive back at home. When we got inside, my mom asked, "what did he just say?", to which I replied, "I do not know". This is often the case, although I am getting better at deciphering his language. "He said it twice, I heard him," she insisted, "have him show you". I knew Jimi's mind had since moved on, but to appease my mother, I asked him to show me. He took me to the back door, which has a window pane inside of it, and I knew this was just an attempt to go outside. I relayed this to my mom, sure that the moment had passed to find out what he was trying to say.
By this time I had moved into the laundry room to hang his diaper bag for the next excursion, and he followed me. I picked him up to carry him to his crib. As we walked through the kitchen, he said it again. "There he goes again!" my mom said. Such a curious Grammy! I put him down for his nap and went back to the kitchen. I had walked by the garbage can when he had said the last thing he had said. I opened up the garbage and there lay my favorite blouse! As I picked it up, the pear core and seeds it had been laying on since morning fell back into the trash and I suddenly knew what Jimi had been saying.
When you tell him good boy, he tries to repeat it and it usually comes out as "gee-gah". I asked my mom if what she had heard was "gee-gah" and she said, "yes". I relayed to her that he had said "gee-gah" because he was walking by the trash and was telling me what a good boy he was for having attempted to throw away my favorite blouse...
My blouse (which is one of the only ones that fits this late in my pregnancy, I might add) is now sitting in the dirty clothes hamper! Every time we hear the lid on the garbage now, we look to see just how good of a boy Jimi has been.
Jimi is really starting to be helpful of late, so Dapo started showing him how to throw the wrapping paper away in the garbage. In retrospect, we should have used a black trash bag for this task, but as they say: live and learn. We were so proud of our little helper that every small fistful of paper that went into the garbage brought laudations of "Good Boy!".
Since that glorious Christmas morn, we have come to find various household items in the trash. A shoe, socks, remote, telephone, and legos, just to name a few, have been tossed into the garbage at Jimi's whim.
On Sunday I came home from church and was on the phone with my mom. Jimi is usually ready for a nap by this time, and since he snacks at church, he goes straight to bed when we arrive back at home. When we got inside, my mom asked, "what did he just say?", to which I replied, "I do not know". This is often the case, although I am getting better at deciphering his language. "He said it twice, I heard him," she insisted, "have him show you". I knew Jimi's mind had since moved on, but to appease my mother, I asked him to show me. He took me to the back door, which has a window pane inside of it, and I knew this was just an attempt to go outside. I relayed this to my mom, sure that the moment had passed to find out what he was trying to say.
By this time I had moved into the laundry room to hang his diaper bag for the next excursion, and he followed me. I picked him up to carry him to his crib. As we walked through the kitchen, he said it again. "There he goes again!" my mom said. Such a curious Grammy! I put him down for his nap and went back to the kitchen. I had walked by the garbage can when he had said the last thing he had said. I opened up the garbage and there lay my favorite blouse! As I picked it up, the pear core and seeds it had been laying on since morning fell back into the trash and I suddenly knew what Jimi had been saying.
When you tell him good boy, he tries to repeat it and it usually comes out as "gee-gah". I asked my mom if what she had heard was "gee-gah" and she said, "yes". I relayed to her that he had said "gee-gah" because he was walking by the trash and was telling me what a good boy he was for having attempted to throw away my favorite blouse...
My blouse (which is one of the only ones that fits this late in my pregnancy, I might add) is now sitting in the dirty clothes hamper! Every time we hear the lid on the garbage now, we look to see just how good of a boy Jimi has been.
Wednesday, January 7, 2009
Nothin' Doin'
Yesterday was my 37 week OB/GYN appointment. Besides the fact I gained 5 lbs in 6 days, there was nothing of interest that occurred. My blood pressure was about the same, the baby hates her heartbeat being monitored, and I have not progressed in the dilation/thinning arena.
I know that my pregnancies have pretty much run the same course as my mom's did. First one was a boy and everything was wonderful. Second one was a girl, and left much to be desired. An item of interest is that my mother's second child (that would be me) did not come until she was 43 1/2 weeks. The good news? Once I decided I wanted to be born I arrived in three hours, start to finish.
So I called my mom and told her not to buy her tickets for what we all had hoped to be a delivery next week. Funny how two weeks ago I could not see how I could make it another month, while now I cannot see not going another month. As a friend of mine who is an L&D nurse rightfully puts it, the most unpredictable animal on the planet is a woman about to have her second child. My husband whole-heartedly agreed!
I see Dr. R next Tuesday, so stay tuned!
I know that my pregnancies have pretty much run the same course as my mom's did. First one was a boy and everything was wonderful. Second one was a girl, and left much to be desired. An item of interest is that my mother's second child (that would be me) did not come until she was 43 1/2 weeks. The good news? Once I decided I wanted to be born I arrived in three hours, start to finish.
So I called my mom and told her not to buy her tickets for what we all had hoped to be a delivery next week. Funny how two weeks ago I could not see how I could make it another month, while now I cannot see not going another month. As a friend of mine who is an L&D nurse rightfully puts it, the most unpredictable animal on the planet is a woman about to have her second child. My husband whole-heartedly agreed!
I see Dr. R next Tuesday, so stay tuned!
Friday, January 2, 2009
New Year's Resolution
I went to bed at 930 and woke up this morning around 1:30 to use the restroom. Dapo was particularly restless, rolling over a lot and the likes. Somehow I wound up thinking for about an hour before I decided to get up. After I write this, I'll do some homework and then I'm sure I'll be ready to sleep again. I must be getting ready for changes to my circadian rhythm.
On Wednesday I had my last bi-monthly OB visit. I'll start seeing him every week now until the baby is born. All of the women in the waiting room were as pregnant, or more, than I was. I was seen at a different office (the one actually at the hospital) and so I asked if that was where they send the REALLY pregnant women to. My nurse told me that they were only working a 1/2 day and so they were only seeing the women who really needed seen. Glad to know I qualified.
I have only gained one pound in the last 6 weeks...due in large part to the dietary changes made thanks to the gestational diabetes diagnosis. I am eating well, so I know the baby is doing fine. The baby's heartbeat was 158 and my blood pressure was 128/82. The top # is usually higher. I have been having dizzy spells, and Dr. Rushing said it is nothing to worry about.
The best news of the visit is that the baby is no longer breech. She is head down and he said she isn't "dropped" but she is down. Not sure the difference, but glad to hear we are making progress. I am not dilated, either. Dr. Rushing reiterated that he would induce me IF my body was showing some indications of being ready to be induced, i.e. dilated, baby dropped, thinning, soft, etc. He will do it as early as 38 weeks. I will be 38 weeks in two weeks from yesterday.
Knowing this gives me plenty to think about while I cannot sleep. Things to do (we need to find someone to watch Jimi, get ahead on my homework, stock our freezer with easy to cook meals...), wonder what she will look like, remember to count her toes and fingers, etc. The best part about pregnancy is that you get to know your baby when no one else in the world does.
Seeing the light at the end of the tunnel somehow makes the misery tolerable. My mom mentioned that I slept a lot more when I was pregnant with Jimi, which is why I don't remember the end as much. So, I made a resolution to sleep more...I just am not doing that right now!
Two weeks seems like a long time, but I tell myself it is the length of that vacation you went on that flew by, or it is the amount of time it has been since I last saw Dr. Rushing. If I just take a week at a time, then a day at a time, I can pace myself. Compared with the other 8 months of pregnancy, this should go by the fastest. Right??
Well, Happy New Year to everyone. The best part about it being a new year is that the month (and the year) is finally the same month as my due date. No longer do I say "in January", because he were are! And my New Year's Resolution?? To have a baby, of course! Now there's a resolution I'll have to stick with!
On Wednesday I had my last bi-monthly OB visit. I'll start seeing him every week now until the baby is born. All of the women in the waiting room were as pregnant, or more, than I was. I was seen at a different office (the one actually at the hospital) and so I asked if that was where they send the REALLY pregnant women to. My nurse told me that they were only working a 1/2 day and so they were only seeing the women who really needed seen. Glad to know I qualified.
I have only gained one pound in the last 6 weeks...due in large part to the dietary changes made thanks to the gestational diabetes diagnosis. I am eating well, so I know the baby is doing fine. The baby's heartbeat was 158 and my blood pressure was 128/82. The top # is usually higher. I have been having dizzy spells, and Dr. Rushing said it is nothing to worry about.
The best news of the visit is that the baby is no longer breech. She is head down and he said she isn't "dropped" but she is down. Not sure the difference, but glad to hear we are making progress. I am not dilated, either. Dr. Rushing reiterated that he would induce me IF my body was showing some indications of being ready to be induced, i.e. dilated, baby dropped, thinning, soft, etc. He will do it as early as 38 weeks. I will be 38 weeks in two weeks from yesterday.
Knowing this gives me plenty to think about while I cannot sleep. Things to do (we need to find someone to watch Jimi, get ahead on my homework, stock our freezer with easy to cook meals...), wonder what she will look like, remember to count her toes and fingers, etc. The best part about pregnancy is that you get to know your baby when no one else in the world does.
Seeing the light at the end of the tunnel somehow makes the misery tolerable. My mom mentioned that I slept a lot more when I was pregnant with Jimi, which is why I don't remember the end as much. So, I made a resolution to sleep more...I just am not doing that right now!
Two weeks seems like a long time, but I tell myself it is the length of that vacation you went on that flew by, or it is the amount of time it has been since I last saw Dr. Rushing. If I just take a week at a time, then a day at a time, I can pace myself. Compared with the other 8 months of pregnancy, this should go by the fastest. Right??
Well, Happy New Year to everyone. The best part about it being a new year is that the month (and the year) is finally the same month as my due date. No longer do I say "in January", because he were are! And my New Year's Resolution?? To have a baby, of course! Now there's a resolution I'll have to stick with!
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