You're Gonna Need It

Lately, Sam has been asking a ton of questions about how the baby gets out. She's extremely worried my stomach will explode the baby out, and I get that could seem like a legit fear at her age. Personally, I'm a little scared by the idea of a C-section myself, and that's hardy the baby "exploding" out, so I can only imagine how limited the options seem at 5. There's no exit!!!
Now, these are all normal things to be curious about, and she probably can't imagine the answers will be gross or potentially upsetting, so I'm not surprised nor upset she's asking them.
That doesn't mean I feel like answering them.

But, as I may have mentioned a time or two, deflecting Sam's questions is extremely hard to do for any extended period of time. She never forgets them. Minimizing information only seems to result in more follow-up questions. I figured I was either about to resort to a crazy lie about a cabbage patch (that she probably wouldn't buy), or I had to woman up and find a way to explain the truth that wouldn't be so gross or awe-inspiring she would feel the need to share the gory details at preschool's next show-and-tell. I often have a fear that some of Sam's more out-there questions will resurface and get me a call from the preschool teacher as Sam shares her new-found knowledge on various topics. I do not feel this fear is in the least bit irrational.

Finally, I found a video on Babycenter that seemed perfect. It was about labor and delivery, but it was computer-animation (therefore, no blood, screaming, or anything remotely traumatizing), and a side view cross-section (which pretty much eliminates Sam's ability to seek out or recognize equivalent parts on herself and worry about that). So it was all very academic, but would answer her questions.

Sure enough, Sam watched the video very intently, and as it got towards the end, she paused, looked at me and said "are they saying the baby is gonna come out that little tube?"

I said, "Yes."

Sam: "It's not gonna fit."

Me: "It stretches."

She wordlessly watched the rest of the video, made sure the baby would in fact make it out just fine. Then she turned to me with a deadpan face, said "Good luck" and walked away. She sounded exactly like the bad guy in Taken. She hasn't asked a single follow up question, or seemed upset at all in the days since.

Of course, there's always the option that she doesn't think for one minute that could possibly work in real life and I'll need all the luck I can get if I expect it to. I felt the same way when I first studied the reproductive system. Then again, I wasn't exactly five. Sam's always been advanced when it comes to skepticism and snark.

We're Just Very Friendly

Over the weekend, we took the opportunity to meet the new next-door neighbor who was moving in.
While we were chatting with her and with her dad who came from out of town to help her move, my usually somewhat shy, face-hiding son decided these people were a-ok, and wouldn't stop talking to them.
Then, he ran away for a while, came running back full tilt, yelled "Show 'em da belly, Mama!!!" and  yanked up my shirt for their benefit. Of course, I was pulling it down as much as I could and we had a fun little tug-of-war for a minute or so.
It is to our new neighbor's credit that she did not immediately turn that dolly around, re-load the Uhaul and slink away to saner pastures.
I certainly wanted to slink away. Just when you think your children have run out of ways to embarrass you, you learn you still had some dignity hiding in the corner you'd forgotten about. But you only realize its there as its leaving.

Welcome to the neighborhood. You'll find we are very friendly and love to share.
Sorry about that.

And then...

Last night, Peyton came to me and said "I go pee pees from da wee wee!" (Sidenote: Thanks so much to daddy for teaching him that classy phrase.) Then he pointed at the toilet. Anxious to follow his lead, I said "You want to go in the big potty?" and he said "Yes!" so we went in the bathroom. We aren't trying to officially potty train him with a couple of weeks until a new baby comes, but if he's going to lead the way, I'm not going to tell him not to use the toilet. I am not insane.
He pulled the stepstool in front of the toilet and I took off his diaper. He stood there staring at the bowl for a while.
Then he said "I want da Elmo seat."
So I got out the Elmo potty seat and helped him sit down.
Then he sat there a while kicking his legs. After a minute or so, I asked if he was done and he said no and continued to just sit there.
Then he asked for some cars to play with. So I got him some cars, and he continued to sit there, playing with cars, doing nothing else.
Then he announced "I done!" which I assume meant done playing with cars because he still hadn't done a darn thing bodily function-wise. That didn't stop him from grabbing toilet paper to practice wiping, and then flushing the toilet.
Then I turned my back to get a new diaper and he took advantage of the opportunity to run away naked.
He ran into my bedroom, into my bathroom, and then, he peed on the floor squarely in front of my toilet.

And that, my friends, perfectly sums up why I hate potty training.
An exercise in frustration if ever there was one.

Rest and Relaxation

So, I bought this new little gadget to help me stay active after the baby comes, called a fitbit. One of the nutty little things it does is besides tracking steps and calories burned is to track my sleep.
That would be awesome, if it wasn't so darn depressing.
It tells you how long you slept and how many times you awakened during the night (like if you were tossing and turning and fidgeting, even if you don't remember it).
I've only had it two nights. The first night, it said I woke up 20 times. The second, it said 14.
The joys of late pregnancy!!!

I can hardly wait to see what it says when there's a newborn sleeping three feet from my bed. I'm betting it will be so sad it's funny. As a side note, whoever came up with the phrase "sleeping like a baby" should be publicly flogged. No one makes more noise, or wakes up more than a baby! Not even me when I'm super pregnant and apparently waking up 20 times a night.

Perhaps because I'm getting so little of the quality kind these days, I've become a little obsessed with sleep. I've been reading about helping babies sleep and sleep cycles (REM sleep vs. NREM sleep, etc.) All this research and in some cases, just fantasizing about sleeping, has led me to write my own sleep cycle.
This is my 9-month along sample pregnancy sleep cycle...keep in mind, this only includes the awakenings I'm aware of, so add in 10 or so more at random, just for funsies.
10:00pm: Set up insane pillow fort to attempt comfort (Mine requires five different pillows: Two under my head to prevent heartburn/nausea, one under my belly for support, one behind my back to stop pain, and a body pillow called a snoogle that is like a 8 foot snake to cover all areas not covered by the other four, including also going under my head so I have a three pillow tower).
10:05pm: Realize I have to pee/forgot to take my vitamin/didn't set my alarm. Try in vain to use the Force to summon spouse from downstairs for non-peeing tasks, give up and get out of bed.
10:10pm: Rebuild pillow fort
10:30pm: Fall asleep the first time
11:00pm: wake up with nausea or heartburn, despite three pillow tower. Debate whether getting up and rebuilding fort is worse than continued heartburn. Make decision and either lay awake wanting to puke, or get up, take a Tums and rebuild the fort. Lie awake waiting for meds to kick in.
12:00pm: Wake up with contractions and back pain. Debate flipping over, which is a five minute process. Spouse senses internal debate and flips over twice in a minute. Show off.
1:30am: Realize I have rolled about 15 degrees too far onto my arm (and tummy) and said arm is now dead asleep, attempt to correct the situation results in about 10-15 minutes of painful arm tingling and awake time. Wait until arm stops tingling to realize I have to pee. Upon return, rebuild pillow fort.
1:45am: Mom getting up to pee makes fetus wake up and want to party! Try to fall asleep during crazy fetus party. Luckily, bladder kicking is relatively ineffective since trip to bathroom.
3:45am: Awake from crazy horrifying nightmare. Realize odds of baby being born with multiple heads/in a stadium full of onlookers, or killer hunting down family/house exploding/etc. are probably very much in favor of not happening, but just in case get up and check on other two children. Return to bed and repeat fetus party and rebuilding of pillow fort.
4:45am: Pee break! Repeat fetus party, but tired of rebuilding the fort, opt out of belly pillow.
6:15am: Spouse is up to get ready for work. I realize the vital importance of belly pillow when I wake up with belly pain and contractions and frantically search the floor to get it back. Say goodbye to hubby, and finally, fall asleep like a bump on a log.
7:30am: Hear unmistakable sounds indicating other children are awake and the night is over. Good morning, Sunshine!

Repeat nightly, and resist the urge to punch anyone who says "You look tired!" daily. I'm almost at the finish line! Soon enough, it will be someone else's pee and poop breaks I get to deal with all night long.

Hmmm, when I put it like that, it seems strange to be this excited for it. Then again, nobody ever said parenting wasn't full of weird contradictions. I'm gonna go take a nap.