New game

Blake has reached an age where he's started to pretend. And it's kind of the cutest thing ever. When he plays with his trains he gives a play-by-play of what's happening: "Thomas puffs away", "Thomas push cars", or "Oh no! Crash!" are common phrases in our house these days.

But in the last 2 weeks Blake has started playing a new game. It's called "baby sleeping" and it's a pregnant mother's dream.

baby sleeping

baby awake

Basically the game consists of Blake, who is pretending to be a baby, laying down and being tucked into bed with a blanket. Then he pretends he's asleep. He wiggles around and makes noises, waiting for me to ask if he's awake. When he pops his head up that means he's awake.

Besides watching Blake shut his eyes as hard as he can to feign sleep, the best part of this game is that I get to lay down while we play. And some days laying down is all I want to do.

Thoughts on pregnancy

After finally coming to terms with Blake's birth and growing tired of putting my life on hold because of where we live, I felt ready for baby #2.

With several symptoms of early pregnancy evident, I went to the drug store to buy a test. I also thought I might as well get some prenatal vitamins while I was there, just in case. As I was walking home from the store I wasn't really sure how I felt about possibly being pregnant. Honestly, it kind of scared me. I thought I was ready, but then thinking about the logistics of raising two kids in Brooklyn suddenly was the last thing I wanted. By the time I got home I had almost convinced myself that I wasn't pregnant. Maybe I wasn't ready.

When I took a pregnancy test to see if I was pregnant with Blake, a positive result showed up immediately. I wondered if the same thing would happen this time. Before taking the test this time around, I suddenly thought, "Don't be disappointed if you aren't pregnant." With that I took the test and got an immediate positive result.

And then I grinned. And that grin turned into a smile.

After telling Evan once he got home (which I did a way better job of this time than the first time), we decided to wait to tell our families until each family could be together.

We skyped with our families and watching them try to figure out what Blake had handed Evan in the video was fun and made us even more excited.

And then the nausea hit. Probably for the first 3 weeks after finding out I was pregnant I'd wake up nauseous, eat breakfast, feed Blake, and then lay down on the couch until noon. The thought of moving made made me want to cry. Blake enjoyed watching an inordinate amount of TV during those few weeks. Now any time I lay down on the couch he says, "No nap, Mommy!" Poor kid.

The nausea is slowly getting better, but it's still hanging around. I don't remember being really nauseous every day with Blake, but I think that's because I was so busy getting ready for my first year of teaching. I do remember eating practically all the time in order to avoid the nausea and that's exactly what I have to do this time around. And as fun as that sounds, eating is usually the last thing I want to do these days.

Normal smells bother me and sometimes I gag to think about eating the dinner I just spent an hour preparing. I remember cooking bacon one day and the smell was equivalent to burning flesh in my mind. I love bacon, but I haven't been able to eat it or even think about cooking it since I found out I was pregnant.

Oh and here's something I forgot about: weird dreams. I have very weird, very vivid dreams a few times a week. I recently had a dream that I witnessed a horrendous plane crash. I couldn't look away and I felt like I should go help the people on the plane, but I was too scared to see what their mangled bodies might look like. I woke up from the dream with my heart racing and totally out of breath.

I'm really hoping that the second trimester will come with less nausea, more energy, and fewer scary dreams. All in all I'm really excited to be expecting a baby in November. I have no idea how I'll manage city life with 2 kids. In fact, there's a good chance during those first few weeks postpartum when your hormones are trying to regulate that I'll scour craigslist for a place in the 'burbs and tell Evan we have to get out of here. And then hopefully I'll gain control of my emotions and realize I can do this. I can raise 2 kids here.

E.T.A.

11.25.12

Good times in Virginia

Our recent stint in Virginia was filled with water sprinklers, bounce house visits, playing tickle toes with Grandma and riding the lawn mower with Grandpa.

But perhaps the most exciting thing I did while visiting my family was wean Blake from his pacifier. I told myself that when Blake turned 2 it would be bye bye binky. But his second birthday came and he seemed even more attached to it. And I'll be honest, having the pacifier around to comfort Blake at bedtime was very nice. Secretly I hoped he would lose his pacifier and then I could just explain to him that it was gone. Weaning him seemed almost impossible if I had to throw his pacifiers away and then tell him they were gone. But him losing it and me honestly not knowing where it was made it seem easier in some way. And that's exactly what happened.

Day 2 in Virginia and the bink was gone. We think he may have flushed it down the toilet because we searched high and low for his binky and couldn't find it. At bedtime I took a deep breath and tried to explain to an inconsolable and exhausted Blake that blue bink was gone. He cried as I held him and rubbed his back, but eventually went to sleep. The next day nap time and bedtime were hard without a pacifier, but once he fell asleep, he stayed asleep. A week later I was worried when he'd occasionally say, "blue bink gone!", but he wasn't crying about it anymore and seemed to be able to drift off to dreamland rather easily.

Now we're home from Virginia and we are still binky free! Our problem now is weaning Blake from sleeping with me and going to bed at 10pm like he did when we were in Virginia. I'm sure in a few days he'll be back to his old schedule. In the meantime I'll try to keep from pulling out my hair when he decides to scream at the top of his lungs as he rebels against any form of sleep. You win some, you lose some. But at least there's no more bink!

Family: It's About...

For some people, going home means sitting around with family, laughing about the good old days, reminiscing about what life used to be like before everyone lived so far away. For us, it means reenacting the Hunger Games in our front yard. Yep, there's a flaming arrow, too.

ferocity

courage

family traditions

retrieval party

Can you spot the arrow?

Flaming arrows will be his legacy.

Impromptu fire dancing

In all honesty, I rarely do anything related to archery when I see my family. And there is lots of laughing. And reminiscing. And reenacting (just not of books made in to movies).

Real New Yorker

I am not a real New Yorker. And I'm ok with that. And if I live here for 50 years (ugh, please no) and I'm still not a real New Yorker, then I'll be ok with that, too.

I never aspired to live in New York. When Evan told me there was a chance he'd work in New York one day, I said, "That's fine!" because 1) I was madly in love with him and at the time I thought I could live anywhere as long as I could be with him and 2) I didn't really believe that we would actually live here. Not that Evan couldn't get a job here, just that we'd find a better job in a more awesome (and suburban) place. So being a "real New Yorker" is not something I really care to be. In fact, I kind of like being very un-New Yorker.

So what makes a real New Yorker? Here's a list I found on gothamist:

1) You've seen Woody Allen. [Note: or substitute whatever celebrity you see around your neighborhood.]
First off, maybe I don't count because I live in Brooklyn. Maybe I could never be a real New Yorker because I don't live in the city. Still, Brooklyn is "New York" enough for me. Secondly, there are no celebrities in my neighborhood. Unless you count the stars of the reality show based in Bay Ridge (eye roll). I don't. The only celebrity I've seen here is Natalie Portman. I totally stared at her as she walked toward me. Rookie.

2) You've stolen a cab from someone who needs it more than you do.
I've never been in a cab. Cabs are expensive. There are virtually no cabs in Brooklyn. And if you are in the city and you need a cab to Brooklyn, they won't take you even though by law they are supposed to. I once saw a guy hail a cab in the city and the driver wouldn't let him in until he told him where he needed to go. He locked the doors and everything! My plan to trick a cabbie into taking me to Brooklyn (if I ever needed it) was going to be to get in the cab first and then tell him where I needed to go. Those cabbies are smart.

3) You've cried on the subway and not cared what anyone thinks.
I have cried on the subway. But it was on a Sunday morning with very few people around, so I don't know if that counts.

4) You've killed a cockroach with your bare hands.
I've killed my share of cockroaches while living here. Not with my bare hands, though. I would die if I had to kill one with my bare hands. The only scenario where I can imagine myself actually touching one of those foul creatures with my hands would be if it was on or near my child. Any scenario other than that, and I've got a plan (strategically placed cans of Raid and always wearing something on my feet).

5) You don't pronounce Houston Street like the city in Texas.
I only know that it's pronounced "House-ton" not "Hues-ton" because Evan told me. 

6) When you know better than to enter an empty subway car.
I used to get so excited when I saw empty subway cars. And then I got stuck on a few with a less than clean person and I quickly realized why people were avoiding them. 

7) When you know how to walk around tourists.
I will say that living here has helped me develop the ability to ignore everyone else around me and focus on getting to where I need to be. Go with the flow. Just go with the flow.

8) You can nap on the subway and play it cool when a rat scurries across your face.  
If you hate rats (Lindsay) don't watch the video. Small rodents don't gross me out nearly as much as roaches do. I don't want either in my home, but I am far less likely to be reduced to tears if I see a mouse. That being said, I don't care how long you've lived anywhere, if a rat crawls up your leg and makes it to your face, you better freak out. That's disgusting. And if you're ok with that then you might need to seek professional help.

9) You don't even notice the pee smell in the subway system anymore.
I still notice it. 

So I'm not a real New Yorker. That's ok. Sometimes I even try to be extra courteous so as to teach real New Yorkers, "See, this is how people are in the rest of the United States."

Take Two