The Pregnant Waddle

Pre-Pregnancy Weight Just Around the Corner (It's Trying to Run and Hide)

Thursday, August 24, 2006

As it turns out

Ngaire didn't have the stomach flu.

She threw up in her carseat again two days later. (Her OTHER carseat.) I thought, "Oh NO, she's starting to get carsick." The Husbandlet is much prone to carsickness. I was not pleased to see this manifesting itself in our progeny.

Then, the next day, she threw up in her stroller. After which, we caught her in the act of GAGGING HERSELF. That's right: my sweet, dainty darling has been whiling away the dull moments of being strapped in a seat against her will by sticking her fingers down her throat and making herself vomit.

So I'm back in the backseat next to her these days, to keep her little fingers from venturing too deeply into her mouth. She seems more inclined to engage in such wickedness when she is tired and frustrated; the ride in to the sitter's in the mornings has so far provoked no vomit.

Also? The wisdom teeth, they came out yesterday. As he shot me up with sleepy drugs, the oral surgeon said, "You're a teacher; hope you don't lose any wisdom when the teeth came out." I said, "Maybe you should put a few extras in, instead." Then I passed out. I'm feeling generally OK today; not too chipmunk-like or anything, though I am getting a bit sick of pudding.

I'm back at work in staff development this week, Ngaire is back in daycare, and the Husbandlet is plugging away at his clam action. All is well.

Friday, August 18, 2006


Last Sunday morning, Ngaire made the sign for “all done” when she wanted down from her high chair after breakfast.

Yesterday, she and I were snuggling on the couch, and she was babbling, “Ba ba ba ba ba.” I said, “Ba ba,” which seemed to please her, so I decided to try a little experiment. “Mama,” I said. There was a little silence. Then, “Mama,” said Ngaire.

Today, we were reading a little book whose main characters were bears. As we got to the end of the book, Ngaire was fascinated by the little angel bears decorating the inside of the cover. She pointed at one and said, “Beh.” Then she did this several more times.

We had a delightful time visiting our friends and their kidlets. My suitemate lives in a veritable children’s paradise, with a huge backyard and lots of play equipment. Ngaire enjoyed the big kids and also the amount of sand available for consumption. She did very well, too, on the two long car trips; the only negatives were the episodes of diarrhea she produced on the way home. I ran out of wipes, and at our next pit stop, begged a nice Exxon employee to equip me with little handiwipes (the kind you get at a barbeque joint), which he did most sympathetically. Ngaire’s tushie was definitely lemony fresh after that.

I guess that was a preview of the first instance of Ngaire getting an intestinal bug. She threw up once yesterday, and still seems pretty clingy and emotionally fragile today, signs that all is not well in her little insides. I seem to have caught a milder form of the bug from her, but it’s only manifesting in achiness and wooziness and a little headache. We have officially entered the Illness-Getting (and passing on to parents) Stage. Fun.

I start back to work next week, with staff development, taking a day off to get my wisdom teeth removed. Oy. That is all I have to say.

I'm off now to comfort a squawking Squid.

Saturday, August 12, 2006

Fall cleaning

Today, I gave our living room possibly the most thorough cleaning it’s had since we remodeled it last summer. I washed the floor. I even dusted. I don't usually do that. At one point, Ngaire took the dust rag away from me and started running it over our coffee table. Then she tried to eat the rag. I don't usually do that either.

In another stunning moment of coordination, Ngaire managed to lift a full glass of water off a TV tray—at eye level for her—without spilling it. She even started to drink out of it, and it was only then that she dropped it. The glass survived. The floor got an auxiliary backup washing (see above paragraph).

In my cleaning, I ran across tons of spider poop on our floor. I am fairly certain that my educational background has well prepared me for cleaning up spider poop.* But … who knew that something so small could excrete so much?

The Husbandlet is currently bravely plugging away at Phase XXXVIII of our Bathroom Remodel Project (est. June 2004). On the positive side, after tonight, the toilet shouldn’t have to come out again. On the negative, neither will we be completely finished with the remodel. Since we’re planning to put this house on the market this spring or summer, there is some doubt as to whether we will actually finish fixing up the place before it’s time to move. I find that my goals for our accomplishments have become far less lofty in the last two years … much less “Complete overhaul! With a smile!” and much more “Um, hey, at least the drains work, generally.”

Continuing the wild whirl that is my life, I’m off next week for a few days to visit my college roomie and suitie (suitemate) and their spouses and external and internal children. AND, get this, next Thursday I’ll see an oral surgeon about maybe getting my wisdom teeth removed. I’m in a hurry to do this, if it’s necessary at all, before September, for a couple of reasons, not the least of which being (a) the fact that I’ll be teaching again in September, and (b) a perverse desire to wreak as much havoc on my mouth as possible all at once. The gum graft went all too smoothly and painlessly, so I need to try again. This summer will be remembered as The Period of Much Traveling and Oral Surgery.

Ngaire waves bye-bye (she’s getting better at curling all her fingers at once).

* The question is, can one ever have too much education to clean up spider poop?

Wednesday, August 09, 2006

Ngaire can now

* Toddle/walk/run/you name it.
* Wave goodbye using (a) her whole hand and arm (flapping madly) and (b) curling her fingers ... not all together, but she is trying hard.
* Climb--no, swarm--all over various pieces of furniture.
* Say "Uh-oh!" when she drops something.
* Obey (I haven't gotten bitten in days).
* Disobey (we're working on learning the "Hands off!" command).
* Did I mention the walking?

She is oh so cute. She is wearing me out.

I took her along to get my gum graft stitches removed today, and she did her little swarming thing all over the waiting room and my lap in the dentists' chair. But as soon as the periodontist began clipping the stitches, she became quite still on my lap and watched attentively. She gets this from her father's side of the family.

We have recently discovered that Ngaire really enjoys tumbling on our bed. She likes to be pushed over backwards to fall against a pillow, and she likes rolling and crawling and flopping about. This afternoon, after some tumbling, she lay on her back to take a breather, and looked at me. I was rather worn out (see above), so I lay down next to her and said, "Where's Mommy's belly button?"

She smiled.

She flipped over into a crawling position.

She crawled over, waited for me to pull up my shirt, and stuck her finger in my belly button.

So I KNOW she can learn "Hands off!"

Thursday, August 03, 2006


Dearest Husbandlet,

We always forget our anniversary, but this year we remembered because I accidentally scheduled myself oral surgery for today. And boy, do I look pretty with my shiny new gum graft and black stitches. Never say I don’t fix myself up for you.

I loved you then

but I love you even more now, and I am ever so blessed to have you as my husband and the father of our little Squidlet.

Only three years? It feels like it’s been forever, but in a good way.


Tuesday, August 01, 2006

Oh, and

Very Mom is back.

Not a baby, not yet a toddler

That makes Ngaire a Totterer.

Hi again!

My brother-in-law gave me a stern talking-to (hi Daniel!), so I am resolved to try to be a better blogger. The brain is creaking even as I write, trying to churn the events of the past few weeks so that the cream of entertainment rises above the curds of tediousness, whilst the whey of frivolity swims briskly around all. Or something to that effect.

Scotland was delightful. I mean, I didn’t actually see much of Scotland, but the conference was delightful, and I did so enjoy the creamy butter, the rolling hills, the interesting potato chip flavors (“Roasted Lamb with Moroccan Spices”), the round toilet seats, the accents (in which very few consonants are harmed), etc. etc. etc. The UK is just different enough from the US that one gets a tad tripped up, not in the big ways that one expects, but in little incidentals. You expect to have to pay attention to the money and looking the wrong way crossing streets, but I must say it was quite refreshing to sit down on an oval toilet seat again when I got back to the States.

I’m at an in-between period regarding my future career plans, as I’ve blogged about before … to return to grad school or not to return to grad school? If so, when? If not, what instead? I was afraid that this conference would make me feel sad about not grad-schooling right now, but actually, it merely gave me a kick in the pants in a side direction I’ve been working on, and a bit of encouragement to keep the future-degree/career door open. I feel pretty good about my decision to stay home with the Squidlet after the Husbandlet finishes up his degree, but neither pressured to stay home forever nor to definitely get back into academia. We shall see.

Anyway, the weekend after I got back from Scotland, we packed up the Squid and half the house and drove many, many hours to the family beach vacation. Ngaire loved the beach. Her daddy, granddaddy, uncles, and godfather were all too glad to toss her about in the waves, and the sand provided a lovely surface for trotting about. The abundance of relatives meant that she had her choice of fingers to clutch for walks, and our beach house came well-equipped with Stairs.

The vacation was all-around great, with the only potential blot being Ngaire’s reaction to her MMR or chicken pox shots from the week before. For the last three days of our vacation, she ran a fever and kept producing small red spots. Not a happy Squid.

However, now she seems to be over everything, and is happily tottering about the house in short, drunken bursts, with arms extended and a huge grin on her face. Methinks she approves of her mobility.

I’ve been working on this for three days now (not undistractedly), so I’m going to go ahead and post even though this entry is short on content. I will try to check in more often, if only to post an adorable picture or two. Hugs!