My Boy!

Post-tubby my son, my big boy, said, "Mommy! Pee!" And then he grabbed the potty, sat down by himself and did it. I couldn't be prouder.

Mastery

Playground activities that eluded the kids last year are now commonplace. The extra growth over the winter is so well showcased when they play now.

Pequita is really strong in her core, and muscles around the whole playground with ease. She clambered up the fake boulders that are made for older kids and crossed the chasm without batting an eyelash. Monito believes himself to be quite the big boy and regularly refuses our outstretched hands; he's bloodying his nose with some regularity despite my best efforts to keep him from actually injuring himself. While I am proud he is game to try anything his older sister does, I actively praise any evidence of caution.

500

I passed the 500 post mark 21 posts ago. My my my.

Holy Leap of Faith, Batman

I just made an appointment with my RE (reproductive endocrinologist) (IVF doc) to talk about having a third kid. Homestead Mama and I are still having discussions about whether or not we will actually do it. Our decision really is up in the air, but I'm a planner and a realist. If we do decide to leap off that cliff I'll want to leap as soon as possible, and the first available appointment is over a month away. We can always cancel.

For those of you who didn't live through the conception of the first two, I believe much of it is in past posts. It took us about 4 years and the cost of an ivy league college education to get Pequita. H-mama had some distinct infertility issues, and IVF was the only way for her to conceive. I ended up on the IVF train because we felt very strongly that our kids share a donor - ours is anonymous - and be related by blood since we wanted to use eggs from each of us. Midway through H-Mama's string of unfortunate infertility I started to try to get pregnant the old fashioned way (for lesbians, this means spending $500-700 a month on sperm and having a nurse escort the swimmers past my cervix with a sterile catheter.) We quickly realized our anonymous donor had stopped donating and someone had bought up almost 40 vials of sperm in a couple months, leaving only a few remaining. IVF has significantly better success rates than the old fashioned way, so the decision was simple (which is different than easy).

Once I started IVF it took 3 cycles for me to succeed with Monito. The first live cycle we transferred 3 embryos and it was a BFN (big fat negative). The second live cycle (3 transferred) resulted in two implanted embryos (yay) that I miscarried at 9 weeks (boo). Their due date was 3 months after Pequita's (who we still didn't think would be viable (crush our souls with miscarriage 4 times, shame on you. Crush our souls 5 times, shame on us.). Think/ judge what you want, the timing might have been challenging but we were pretty excited. Third live cycle (3 transferred) was the charm, producing Monito. So from the 3 cycles I did I banked 9 frozen 5-day blasts in pretty good shape and from my 37 year old ovaries. We also have 3 vials of frozen sperm left. Even with me turning 40 shortly (ahem) that should be enough for a good go at another kid who is related by blood to the existing two. IF we agree to go ahead and try. I must say that as I study and witness all the trauma and shell shock my friends and sister suffer through as they manage a toddler and an infant, I am looking hard for reasons not to have a third. I remain undaunted. I can DO hard. I can survive with little sleep. I can see the gifts that are my children even as I plop my son down in time out for biting his sister. Whatever. I suppose it might be obvious which side of the discussion I fall on.

Pardon the following slight non sequitor, but I can't help worry about possible multiples whenever considering fertility tx (treatments):

I must say, after watching closely the interviews with the octuplet mom, I have a hard time not judging her for only two decisions: not being willing to selectively reduce her HOM (high order multiples) for the health of her babies and her existing family, and for supremely poor judgment in selecting the surgeon who performed her lip implants. (I don't accept her line about not having had surgery. I grew many things while pregnant aside from a baby- bigger hips, skin tags, a wart (?) And an unhealthy love for Klondike bars, but not a new set of lips.)

Best Ever Potty Training Tool

A local department store has a 'family' bathroom, the one with the diaper changing table and infant holding seat. And right next to the adult toilet is a miniature toddler-sized toilet. Pequita's eyes grew round as her jaw dropped and she squealed "MY potty, Mommy!" And so it is, two or three times a month when I answer her pleas to visit it with a yes. Bliss like this is impossible on a small plastic throne that has no flusher of its own.

St. Patrick's Day

I took the kids to the local collegetown bagel shop in honor of the day. They make little effort to understand any holiday that doesn't involve candy, but not surprisingly green bagels were a hit.
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Auntie

My sister gave birth to a baby girl on March 14, her son's 3rd birthday. 9 lbs and all systems are go. It is hard to be far away from the action. I am filled with a myriad emotions which I stew over daily and will certainly blog about soon as I crest 40 and continue to pay to store several 5-day blasts and 100 million sperm or so.
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Overheard in Tubbie

I am on the computer in the dining room and Homestead Mama is in the bathroom bathing the children.  I just overheard the following conversation.

Pequita: Mama, dis?

H-Mama: Uh, that is your, uh, clito.ris.  Kind of like Bubba's peni.s but smaller.

Both kids: [Mad cackling]

There has been so much interest in naked time in our house, a.k.a. exploring your own goods, that we let both kids see Grandpa pee when he last visited.  We aren't sure how to expose them to the male anatomy in a Natural! Relaxed! Lighthearted! way; with two moms, we don't want to make anything a mystery.  They clearly know all about the female anatomy.  The kids regularly hear that Monito and our dog Cosmo are the only boys in the house.  So after they saw Grandpa pee - STANDING UP!  AND AIMING! - they seem to have fewer questions and more comfort about their differences.  Phew. 

Day Made

The woman who sold us our yummy burritos said that she had watched us cross the street and liked my outfit. It made her smile. Red Keen shoes, fairly bright orange cords, red polartec top, saffron and red Tibetan scarf wrapped many times around my neck. The orange stroller and kids adorned in fuschia, green, purple and both with red wellies probably didn't hurt. On such a grey day it all happened instinctively. And to think I spent my 20s and 30s in shades of black.
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What Lives in YOUR Car?

DST bites. My kids went to sleep an hour later than usual and woke up an hour earlier, even accounting for daylight savings time. Holy crap but it bodes poorly for the day when I am up and dressed before I smell my coffee brewing, which it set to do automatically at 7:01 am.

We got out of the house early and headed for the library to find out if we can re check-out the Pippi dvd since we only returned it 3 days ago. Pequita seems to NEED it to exist. On the way downtown, Monito asked to hold my hand while I drove. Uh oh; this means sleepy. And then the unthinkable happened - both kids dropped off to sleep as I pulled into the library parking lot. At 9:45 am. My kids usually go to nap between noon - 1 pm. I have no idea how the day will play out now, but pigs are flying overhead in a V-formation.

Because I forgot my knitting and am up-to-date on my bloglines feeds, I present for you the contents of my dashboard that have become full time decor.

- a Playmobil visor from a tiny plastic head
- a water lily pod that H-Mama picked for me this summer
- a beloved ring and earrings that I can't wear whilst parenting as they get bent or yanked every time I try to wear them
- a ring from the carousel we ride on Martha's Vineyard every summer on a scrap of rainbow ribbon. I did get the brass ring once but chose to turn it in for a free ride instead of stealing it
- an Eeyore key, a sure-fire happy-making toy
- a half-eaten sticky lolly deemed a choking hazard and confiscated from a sleeping babe's mouth some time in December (grape, come to find out. Of COURSE I ate it.)
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Pequita or Pinocchio?

Me: "Pequita! Who tore the DVD cover from the library's copy of Pippi Longstocking? We have to be gentle with paper!"

My sweet innocent daughter: "Um, Maggie, Mommy." [point point point] [blink blink blink]

And so the fibbing begins.

In Like A Lion

Lots going on. I'm trying to breathe through it and be present. While I've been breathing, my parents came for a nice visit, we set up a fish tank, H-Mama and I went on a date while my parents babysat, my daughter told her first fib, we lost a fish, my kids have manifested the ability to count and recite large chunks of the alphabet, we've fully embraced brollies here and played in the mud a lot. Also, I found some great crafts to pass on to you all for toddlers which I'll do soon.



This afternoon Monito fell down the cement stairs at a friends house while I was trying to get Pequita to come along. He moved fast, and it is like herding cats to get her to do anything these days. Bloody nose, blood streaming from his mouth, scraped and cuts on his nose, lips and chin. In the pouring rain, long minutes from home. The little trooper only cried for about three minutes, nursed for two and then let me put him in the car and take him home. It is awful, and I feel awful about it. I could see it happening in slow motion, and any parent knows how long the milliseconds seem as you wait to hear how loud and long the screams are, indicating the magnitude of the injury. I don't think this one is terrible [I haven't been able to get a good look inside his mouth at his teeth yet. I'll do that tomorrow when it is less uncomfortable for him] but the crying was heartbreaking.

He's going strong, but sheesh. I held it together but am still upset about it. The bruising is going to be impressive.