Crime Scene

Every few nights, my husband and I get to the top of the stairs on our way to bed and find this:

One night we left her there, thinking if that's where she really wants to sleep, why not? Of course she woke up terrified an hour later, so that doesn't work.

The worst part is the way it startles you, like a crime scene. Especially if she hasn't bothered to use a pillow or line up her friends. You suddenly see a leg, or some hair, and then a body sprawled across the hallway. Time to call forensics.

What are your plans for this evening?

I went to change the laundry last night, and found this:

Perhaps you need a closer look:

You still can't make it out? That's silly putty. All over my dark clothes.

I think the silly putty was a stocking stuffer. I do know that it has made a recent appearance in the house, and my husband and daughter think it's hilarious that I think it's cat vomit every time I come across the squashed putty. Which has been everywhere recently, so I probably shouldn't be surprised.

I guess it's lucky that it was concentrated in about three big clumps (including, of course, one of my favourite sweaters and a pair of preggo-comfy leggings) instead of stretching through the entire load.

Now I'm in possession of a spray bottle of "Goo Gone" and whatever shows are left on the DVR. It's gonna be a fun night.

So. Yeah. Pregnant.

Despite the fact that I posted the picture from my first trimester ultrasound, I'm actually just about 18 weeks pregnant, a fact that floored my husband just last week ("But-- that's-- almost halfway!"). For a slightly compulsive worrier like myself, I only really start to relax when I'm well into the mid-thirties, and by then it's time to start worrying about labour.

So far, there have been a few differences from the first time. Much more nausea and general grossness in the first trimester, enough to get a prescription for diclectin. This medication worked amazingly well for my nausea and even better as a sleep aid. It was able to knock me out, and I didn't feel too wrecked in the morning after taking just one (two is another story). I'm planning to get the refill on my prescription for that reason alone, although I'm told it's the active ingredient in Unisom, so that should work just as well.

I'm definitely in maternity clothes much earlier than last time. I'm sure this wasn't helped by the fact that all I could eat for several weeks were cheese bagels, fries, the occasional other starchy food and full-sugar coke. Add a week of Hallowe'en candy and I'm surprised you can't already roll me down the street. But I'm over the candy now. And I drank an old bottle of coke tonight and it was disgusting. So consistent healthy eating is the plan for now on.

I did have some bleeding around week 6, which I never had at all with Will. I went in for an ultrasound right away and after a few minutes of silence (there was no sound on the machine at all, so I couldn't even listen for that reassuring whoosh whoosh, and the technician was quiet) she turned the monitor to me and showed me the flickering heartbeat. Even though I've heard the heartbeat on the doppler and even started feeling little swimming movements, when I saw that tiny flicker, that was the best moment ever.

Will is quite excited to be a big sister, so far. She has also become insanely clingy and already doesn't want anything to do with anyone but me (a fun time for her dad, let me tell you). I guess it's good that she's exhibiting this behaviour with so much time left before the baby actually arrives. I can gradually move back and let her dad move in without it being a complete shock.

Of course, it's always a shock, right? And chaos. But I'm ready (gulp). And so happy.

(Almost) Wordless Wednesday: Big Announcement Edition

Without a doubt, that is my husband's nose on this kid's face. Along with the sweetest little kissy face in perhaps the most detailed 13 week ultrasound ever.

On preschool: duty parent edition

There are some positive things about being a duty parent at my daughter's preschool. Well, maybe just one. I do enjoy watching Will interact with the other kids in a group setting. Especially before she decides to treat me like her mother and just goes about playtime in her own way. She asks another child to play. She waits for a turn at the paint easel. Apparently yesterday she and two other kids pretended that all the animals on the farm were pooping, but I didn't get to witness that one.

Most of the time, though? Duty days suck.

1) The cleaning. Dear lord. I seem to always be the "drink parent" and am therefore responsible for the bathrooms (in addition to actually bringing the drink for snack time). I clean the bathrooms first thing in the morning. I supervise the bathroom break and handwashing. I clean the bathrooms again during circle time. (Remember that my child's preschool runs for exactly 2 and a half hours. That's a lot of cleaning.)

2) The boredom. I supervise kids playing outside. I supervise kids playing in the playroom. Today I supervised kids playing in the gym. YAWN.

3) The opening activity. If I have to hear the days of the week song again my head may explode. Or maybe it will happen when I hear, "What is the weather, the weather, the weather? What is the weather, the weather today?"

4) The moment when my daughter realizes that her mother is actually there, and tries to use this to her advantage. Today Will seemed to get bent out of shape when I was playing catch with a couple of other kids in the gym. Her shoulders slumped over and she went to sit against the wall. When she finally decided to join us, the teacher announced that it was time to clean up. On the way to put away her ball - and already in a fragile emotional state - she dropped it and another kid helpfully picked it up and put it in the bin. Will burst into tears and wouldn't leave my side for the remaining five (phew!) minutes of the day.

5) The teacher. But that's another post entirely.

Actually, the opportunity to watch this teacher in action is maybe the most important part of being a duty parent. I mean, she's fine. Not what I was hoping for, but fine. Still, it's good to be able to observe her and make assessments on a regular basis, otherwise I would be very uncomfortable with the situation.

What on earth will I do when Will starts Junior Kindergarten?

And we'll start off the month with the obligatory Hallowe'en post

I haven't been writing as much as I would like, so I have decided to participate in Nablopomo again this year. Of course, the month always starts off easy, with November 1st being the day after Hallowe'en and all.

This year, Will decided to be a fairy.

She predictably chose a costume in purple, but her favourite part by far was the make up. Especially those little sticker decals that my friends and I used to get before our ears were pierced, convinced they looked like real stud earrings. Will just used them for glamourous fairy accessories. (Luckily she forgot all about her magical wand, as I had put it away somewhere last week and have no idea where it is, even now.)

I also purchased fairy wings in the same colours for Will's feline siblings. Oliver was a good sport for a minute or two. (Or as long as I lovingly held him in a vice grip in my arms.)

Pasha, however, was less than impressed.

So much for thinking I could get a picture of the three fairies together. Heh.

The week leading up to Hallowe'en was crazy busy, but fun. Will's preschool had a costume day, we went to two special craft classes and did some spooky holiday baking. Will insisted on wearing her old tiger costume (from two years ago!) to a couple of the events, as her best friend's tiger from the same year still fits. Will can get hers on, but it was lucky the make-up was enough to convince her to stick with the fairy for trick-or-treating.

Other than the inevitable post-candy bedtime meltdown, I'd say three-and-a-half is a great age for enjoying the spookiest celebration of the year.

In the house of sick, nobody sleeps. And things keep breaking.

I got back from San Francisco two weeks ago. (I had a lovely time. Thanks for asking.)

There was a reprieve of four days and then the sick set in. I was the first one felled. Killer sore throat I tried to ignore until I found myself, nauseous and dizzy, sitting under a tree at a local outdoor craft fair. Then I slept for 3 hours before eating a few bites of Thanksgiving dinner. The next day was a bit better, but by Monday I was only the least ill person in a house full of sickies, and it was terrible.

Will has gotten the worst of it. She was a mess for three days, then seemed to rally for a morning before getting worse again. She's missed two weeks worth of preschool and all activities and playdates since she can't get through a morning without a desperate coughing fit. The coughing fits strike in the night too. Every night, for the past 8 nights, accompanied by pitiful commentary: "Oh dear. What can I do? When will I stop coughing?" And now I can't stop coughing either.

In the midst of the sick we got our new toilet installed, and an attempt was made to install our new front door lock. (We've been without the use of the front door for an entire month now. I know.) Turns out the lock we ordered doesn't quite fit - although not as badly as the installer originally thought - but he at least fixed the door so we can open it from the inside for Hallowe'en.

To top that off the oven stopped working. Then started again. Then stopped. Then when I called the Sears repair service (it's a Kenmore wall oven that was put in with the "new" kitchen 20 years ago) and fiddled with the oven while trying to explain the problem, it started working again. I just hope it's either fine or some kind of a fuse, because at first glance it doesn't appear that they make wall ovens that small anymore.

Here's hoping nothing else breaks and these coughs finally resolve, or I may well lose my mind.