Dog Days Are Over

Today was the first day I dropped Milo off at his (relatively) new daycare and the dog didn't growl at me. Six weeks in, and I guess she finally knows who I am. That makes it official—we have settled into our new routine. Even the dog knows it. I call that progress.

Crazy or Dedicated?

Yesterday I started back up with my weekly personal training sessions. I quit going when the "morning" sickness kicked my ass for the entire summer. But, you know, since I hadn't thrown up in a week, I thought it was high time to start exercising again.

When I got there, my (male) trainer said, "Looks like you've got a little belly there." Yes. Yes, I do. It tends to grow with pregnancy.

Working out was way harder than I expected. I'm not sure if it was extra tough because I haven't lifted any weight (other than the constant lifting of my nearly 30-pound toddler) in a few months or because I'm pregnant. Or both, probably. But it was not easy. I couldn't (and didn't want to) lift nearly as much weight as I was before. I got out of breath quickly. My lower back felt strained at times, causing me to pull back even more. My pesky round ligament pain held me back, too.

But I did it.

And even though this morning my lower back and round ligament are aching more than normal, I'll be back next week for more torture exercise.

The Gender Reveal Party

Yesterday we hosted a gender reveal party for our friends and family to share the news of Future Baby's sex. The party was a great success. Gorgeous weather meant our deck (and new patio furniture) were open for business. The food was a hit, the kids loved playing with Milo's toys, and our reveal moment had the perfect amount of suspense. My video hangout with long-distance friends and family even went smoothly. Overall, I'd say a good time was had by all.
To reveal the sex, we went old school with a science-project volcano. Except our volcano came out of a wine bottle. In addition to the baking soda, we added Koolaid mix in order to get the color (mixed ahead of time, of course, so as not to give away the surprise). Everyone gathered around, and I poured in the vinegar. It took a few seconds to react, then—an eruption of pink!
Everyone cheered. It was such an exciting perfect moment. We're having a girl! Amazing. And now that the party's over, it really is sinking in. It's gonna happen—Milo is going to have a baby sister and I'm going to have a daughter. Wow. Can't wait to meet you, Future Baby Girl!

The Post In Which the Gender Is Revealed!

It's a girl!

Another belly pic

Are you sick of these belly pics yet? Don't answer that. Here's me at 20 weeks. (Halfway! Woo!)

The 18-Month Stats

Milo is 18 months old. A year and a half! Just over four months away from becoming a big brother. He’s such a little boy, with only traces of baby remaining.

• Weight: 28 lbs., 9 oz. (80th percentile)
• Height: 32 1/4 in. (50th percentile)
• Head Circumference: 19 1/4 in. (80th percentile)

Favorite words include outside, yellow, no, and up (as in, “Pick me up now, woman!”). He knows many, many more words: paci, hat, button, doggie, Zadie, spoon, fork, potty, bump, TV, truck, neck, book, robot, grape, peas, oh no, what’s this?, “Dog Go,” “La La La” (can you guess what two books are making the rounds in our house?), milk, etc. etc. etc.
Favorite books: Go, Dog, Go; Moo, Baa, La La La; Hand, Hand, Fingers, Thumb; Five Little Monkeys Jumping on the Bed; and occasionally Goodnight Moon.

Favorite things to play with: Milo is into toy cars, balls, two splatter screens from the kitchen drawer, flash cards, and our cat.

Milo made up a new game the other day that Andrew and I think is hilarious. He put a pea on top of his head and said “hat.” Of course we laughed, and he kept putting more peas on his head, saying “hat, hat.” This led to other hats, including yogurt and peanut butter toast. Messy, but adorable.

The boy cannot get enough of being outside. Immediately after dinner (or before, or during) he starts whining "ow-side, ow-side!" and goes to the back door and just waits there.

He's quick to throw a mini-tantrum, like if he wants to go outside but does NOT want to put his shoes on, he'll cry and carry on for awhile until distracted by something else.

He refuses to let me kiss him. Sometimes he smiles and turns away, and it's kind of cute. Other times he screams at me, "Mahmee, Mahmee, no, nooooo!" and pushes away with all his might. Sad.

Milo generally likes food, especially breakfast foods, but he sometimes just refuses to even try something. Often if we can convince/trick him into taking a bite, he'll eat with gusto. But if our usual tricks aren't working, forget it. Grapes for dinner it is.

Milo can walk backward, run (sort of), bounce and almost-sort-of jump, spin in a circle, and go up and down stairs fairly easily (crawling or scooting).

Milo has taken a liking to stuffed animals, though they're not really loveys. He just likes to cuddle with them during story time and in his crib.

Every animal says "moo" and everything is the color yellow, according to Milo.

He can reach too many things all of a sudden. Drawers that he never paid attention to before are now opened and their (hopefully safe) contents strewn about. Things on the edge of the table or counter are pulled down. He OPENED THE OVEN DOOR, which seems particularly dangerous to me. I have no clue how to completely baby-proof the house. This kid is just too crafty!

Things at the new daycare are going great. Today was Milo's check-up, and Kristin (Milo's caretaker/teacher) had him up and ready to go and a snack all packed to take along to the doctor's. At the old daycare, we would have been lucky if Milo was in the room we expected to find him in, forget being in a clean diaper, awake, or with snack in hand.

Life is good right now. Milo generally sleeps well, he is currently without rash (though to keep him that way, he has to be in disposable diapers with loads of desitin, so goodbye cloth diaper dreams), he's smart and funny and adorable, and we're all getting ready to become a family of four.

All Is Well

The ultrasound went very smoothly. Our baby is looking good. Arms, legs, fingers, major organs all present and accounted for. You'll have to wait until after our gender reveal party to hear whether this kiddo is a boy or a girl, though. Check back Saturday night for the big (blog) reveal!

Relief

I was looking through some old blog post drafts that never got published for some reason or another and came across this. Written only a couple months ago and with our sonogram taking place in just a few hours, it seems particularly apropos to post it now.

Today (July 18) was my second OB appointment. The one where we were supposed to get to hear the heartbeat. As it turned out, I never did hear the heartbeat. But I got something much better.

My doctor told us that at this stage in pregnancy, she can only find the heartbeat about half the time with the doppler. I was pretty certain we'd have no trouble hearing it, since I'm 11 weeks, and I was only 10 weeks when we heard Milo's heartbeat for the first time. But I was still a little nervous going in to the appointment, because this was sort of the make it or break it point, at least in my mind. So when my doctor couldn't find it, I of course was a little worried. But she was very reassuring, and even said she wasn't going to try that hard to find it; we'd just go and get an ultrasound instead.

I'll admit, I loved the idea of getting an early ultrasound. Especially if my doctor was confident that things were fine. So Andrew and I headed out to the waiting room, and even though we were being squeezed in between other appointments, we got called back in about two minutes to go get our ultrasound. That was perfect, because I didn't have time to get myself good and worked up and panicky.

On the table, gel on the belly, lights dimmed, and voila. Our baby on the screen. Waving at us, heart beating like mad. Awesome. Cutest 1.5-inch long baby I've ever seen.

Dear Future Baby

Dear Future Baby,

(Sorry about the weirdo nickname. That is the unfortunate plight of the second child—you can't just be "baby," for how would anyone know whether I was talking about you or about your big brother? Some people say he's hardly a baby anymore, but you'll never convince me of this.)

It is only a few short days until we find out more about you. We'll find out about how big you are, how fast your heart is beating, whether you are as healthy as can be, and perhaps the most widely anticipated news of all, whether you are a boy or a girl. It's strange, this feeling of just a short time left of wonder and mystery and dreaming. As of now, I can imagine you as a little girl, dressed in an adorable little sundress and matching shoes. And I can just as easily imagine you as my sweet little boy, wearing the silly sports-themed clothing that all boys seemed destined for. Both are wonderful and amazing possibilities. But in just a few days, only one of them will continue to be a possibility.

In a way, that makes me a little sad. Believe me, I cannot WAIT to find out more about you. Knowing who you are and imagining our life as a family of four will be amazing, and it will help me prepare to meet you. But also, my baby girl or baby boy will be gone, if that makes any sense at all. I wonder if I am the only one feeling this way. I know there is no real loss here, only gain. But since you are probably-very-likely-pretty-definitely our last baby, I am about to find out whether I will never have a baby girl to smooch on or whether I will never again have a tiny baby boy to cuddle.

Enough of that sad part though. It is YOU I want to meet! Will you look like Milo? Will you look like Daddy, with dark hair and hazel eyes? Or will it take months and months before we can even tell what color your hair actually is? Or maybe you'll come out with a full head of hair and put Milo's current amount of hair to shame. Will you remind Daddy and me every day of Milo, or will you wow us with how totally unlike him you are, even though you have practically the same DNA? I'm sorry for the inevitable comparisons to your brother. I promise you, there will be no comparing the way I feel about you, because how can you measure a love that is bigger than anything I ever dreamed my heart could feel?

You've been rolling and kicking and punching me for a week or so now. I'm sure that as the weeks go on, I'll start to notice a pattern to your movements—when you sleep and when you are awake, which foods I eat make you want to dance, how well you tolerate a little caffeine. Maybe by that time Daddy and I will have chosen a name for you so I can say, "Future Baby, please quit kicking me! I'm trying to sleep!" And then I'll remind myself that being kicked from inside is probably better than being smacked in the face by a toddler, because at least this way I don't have to figure out how to discipline you.

But I digress. Point is, we still have lots of time to get to know each other before we ever look one another in the eye. I'm truly so excited to meet you. You are already such a wonderful part of our family.

See you next week.
Love,
Mommy

What should we do tonight?

Every night after dinner, Andrew and I have about an hour with Milo before it's time for his bath. And every night, we wonder what to do to make the most of that hour. Last night, we played Yahtzee. We didn't keep score so I can't say for sure, but I think Milo won.

Yahtzee! from Megan Langford on Vimeo.

18 and a half weeks

Here's the belly, albeit not at a great viewing angle. But look at that big kid! He used to be in that same belly. Crazy.

I think I have a new hobby

Check this out.

Yeah. I totally made that.

It used to be just a couple pieces of fabric and a spool of thread.

I took a beginner sewing class. Three classes, actually. And I really enjoyed it. I've been wanting to learn how to sew so I could make some home decor basics, like window treatments, pillows, maybe a table runner or napkins or something. So the class was like a test: do I like this enough to go out and get myself a sewing machine? Am I competent enough to complete a simple sewing project?

Turns out the answer to both questions is yes.

My least favorite part of pregnancy

I'm 17 weeks pregnant. I think I have more belly at this point than I did last time (thank you, abdominals, for never returning post-first pregnancy). I've already gained something like fifteen pounds. And I just hate everything about it.

I wouldn't say I have a very positive body image when not pregnant, but I do occasionally think I look pretty good. But when pregnant, my self-esteem plummets and I basically feel bad about myself the entire time. Longer than the entire time, as I hated my post-baby body for a good six or eight months. Logically I know it's ridiculous to feel fat when pregnant. To look at my belly and genuinely wish it was flatter and less noticeable. To find myself sucking in during the day. And I see already how my hips and thighs and ass seem to be spreading out, and since this is my second time with this, I have the distinct displeasure of knowing what's to come.

With Milo, I gained about 60 pounds during pregnancy. The recommended weight gain is 25-35 pounds. I flew past that in my second trimester, probably. And it took me months and months to lose it. Not fun. I dread gaining that weight again, though of course I hope to not gain quite so much this time. I dread having to lose all that weight again. I hate the feeling that my clothes don't really fit me and that I'm not looking my best.

Add to that occasional nausea (yes, still), extremely dark circles under my eyes, flaky-yet-greasy skin, and generally being completely over-emotional at everything, and I'm a mess. At least I'm not far enough along that strangers on commenting on how huge I am yet. Can't wait for that fun to begin.