If I knew you were coming I'd of baked a cake

I know I have mentioned that I don't like to clean. However, I don't think I have told you about my extreme lack of cooking skills. Really, it is not my fault. I am going to blame my mother for this defect in my personality. Yeah, it is totally her fault. Damn mom.

My mother never cooked. Seriously, we ate fast food every night. EVERY NIGHT. I am not kidding or exaggerating. We ate fast food every night. Needless to say, I rarely ever witnessed actually cooking. So naturally, I have never really had an interest in cooking.

John, on the other hand, loves to cook. I let him make dinner about 5 times per week. I would let him make dinner 7 times per week, but he starts getting a little grumpy. Of course when I make dinner, it is always super simple. Pot pies that only require me to turn on the oven. Soup that only requires me to turn on the microwave. You get the picture.

Porgie's birthday is fast approaching, and I want to make her a cake - from scratch. John is a vegan, meaning that he eats no meat, eggs, or diary. This makes baking the cake even more difficult. However, I found a few great recipes in one of his cook books and decided to give it a try.

To be on the safe side, I decided to bake a "test" cake - just to make sure it would turn out okay. This is what happened...




My cake was flat, and the icing was runny. Also, it had lots of floury lumps. I totally suck at this housewife thing. Porgie was very disappointed.

Tiffany is super smart

A long, long time ago, I posted about my horrible vertical blinds. They were awful and tacky and ugly. They dated our house and made the living room dark and gloomy. A lot of my readers gave suggestions regarding the window treatments, and I was very thankful for their input. John and I considered many different options, but we ultimately decided to go with Tiffany's suggestion of roman shades. Thanks Tiffany!

We purchased the shades about 2 months ago. The old vertical blinds were mounted to the wall instead of the moulding. So, we had to take down the old blinds, patch the holes, and then paint the wall before installing the new blinds. I don't know why I keep saying "we", because I had nothing to do with the process. John did everything. He's my hero.

So, after an extremely long wait, here are the before and after pictures.

BEFORE

AFTER

I think the new blinds are wonderful. They let in so much natural light, and they look spiffy too. We liked the blinds so much, that we also installed them in our dining room. What do you think?

Times are changing

I feel the need to update everyone on the current sleep patterns in my house. Once again, things have changed dramatically. I am not sure how I feel about these new developments, but I definitely think things are getting better. Well, I am not sure if they are better. How about, I definitely think things are changing.

Here is the good news - Porgie has only been waking once per night. Sometimes, she doesn't wake me at all. Although this seems like a blessing, it is actually making some aspects of my life more difficult. Instead of sleeping until 7:30 or 8:00 in the morning, Porgie is waking up at 6:00 or 6:30. That my friends, kind of sucks.

Also, Porgie's napping schedule is changing. When Porgie wakes up at 6:00 in the morning, she is exhausted by 9:00. I put her down for a nap around this time, and she will sleep for hours. However, she has been refusing her afternoon nap fairly regularly. She will lay awake in her crib for an hour playing and babbling, until I finally get her back up. On days when she doesn't take an afternoon nap, she is extremely fussy after 5:00. She will whine and cry for the last few hours of the day - the time when I am getting tired and cranky myself. Not a good combination.

On other days, Porgie will take both her morning and afternoon nap. Although she is in a much better mood in the evening, she has lots of trouble going to sleep at night. We always do the same routine at night - bath, pajamas, books, bottle, and crib. In the past, she would always go right to sleep. However, she now rolls around and plays for hours. HOURS. Last night I laid her down at 8:00 and she didn't go to sleep until 10:00. It is not too bad, because she doesn't cry or whine in her crib. She just plays for HOURS.

So, I am currently considering going down to one nap per day. The tricky part will be moving the nap to early afternoon instead of mid-morning. I should probably mention that Porgie is not a morning baby. She is generally a pain in the ass in the morning. By the time 9:00 rolls around, I am usually running to put her down for a nap. I think this transition is going to be harder for me than for her.

New things to worry about

My abnormal liver enzyme count is driving me absolutely insane. Why, oh why is my liver acting retarded? I have now been referred to a GI specialist. I am truly sick to my stomach about going to see this new doctor. And the worst part is that my appointment is on Porgie's birthday. I am going to miss part of Porgie's special day.

I am hopeful that all of this hoopla will turn out to be nothing. I am hopeful that the diagnosis will be something trivial. However, I am terrified that something might be seriously wrong. How would a serious problem be managed during pregnancy? What affect will the problem have on the baby's development? Am I going to die?

Take a deep breathe Christy. You don't have a serious problem. (I repeat this to myself roughly 79 times per day)
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Although I hate to admit it, I have also started to worry excessively about this pregnancy. Since that horrible scare at my 12 week visit, I have not been able to relax. I have to tell myself over and over again that the doctor found the heartbeat. The doctor found the heartbeat. The doctor found the heartbeat. The doctor found...

I just can't seem to relax, to believe that everything is fine. Although I wasn't going to, I think I am going to ask John to go to my next appointment with me. His presence always makes me feel better. He is the voice of reason, while I am the voice of insanity.
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Don't you love to listen to all my neurotic whining? Stop reading my boring ass blog and go enjoy your weekend.

Husband = Asshole

Do you ever get into really stupid fights with your husband? Lately, John and I seem to have about 57 petty fights per day. It is frustrating and irritating, but also extremely hard to stop. Last night we had a really good argument, so I'll share.

As you guys already know, I am not very happy about my current weight. I have decided that I only want to gain 15 pounds with this pregnancy. I know this is a lofty goal, but I am going to try to accomplish it. However, I am not going to beat myself up if I gain a little more.

During my first visit with Dr. S, we talked about my weight and my goals. She gave me some recommendation, which I have been trying to follow. At my 12 week appointment, I had actually lost 6 pounds. I am not worried about the weight loss, since it was accomplished by eating healthier.

Yesterday morning I stopped at the grocery store. I was buying a few things that John had requested. I was getting ready to leave when I passed by some peanut butter cookies. I LOVE peanut butter cookies, and I haven't had any in ages. I decided to buy the cookies. I didn't even feel guilty about my purchase. I really, really wanted those damn cookies.

So, around 9:00 pm last tonight, John decided to eat some ice cream. I pulled out my delicious peanut butter cookies. John looked at me with disgust and said, "I thought you were only going to gain 15 pounds." Oh, the anger, the fury, the rage. I truly wanted to punch him in the fucking face.

For the next 10 minutes we argued about peanut butter cookies. Finally, I got so pissed off that I decided to throw the damn cookies in the trash. Do you know what that fat bastard did? He continued eating his ice cream. Prick.

So, my beloved peanut butter cookies, I guess we will have to put our love affair on hold. I miss you already.

The tale of the $1,000 camera

When I found out I was pregnant with Porgie, John and I rushed out and bought a camera. Not just any camera. We bought a $1,000 camera. Why did we buy such an expensive camera? I have no freaking idea.

John loves our camera. He takes extra good care of it, putting it away in its special little case. He doesn't even like to bring it to the YMCA, because he is afraid the humidity in the air will damage the camera. He also refused to bring the camera to the beach a few weekends ago - who will watch it while we are in the water?

As you might have guessed, I am not so careful with the extremely expensive camera. I leave it sitting on the table, take it to the park (and then leave it unattended in the stroller), and leave it running for ungodly long periods of time. At this point, I don't think John even wants me to hold the precious camera.

Because I am neurotic, I have to check on Porgie multiple times per night. I use the camera to navigate around in the dark because it has night-vision. This feature is super awesome because it allows me to take beautiful pictures of my baby sleeping. Like this ...

The other night, I went in to check on Porgie using the camera's night-vision. She was sleeping peacefully. I crept out of the room and went into the bathroom. Upon walking into the bathroom, I bumped into the sink and dropped the camera. It slipped out of my hand, slapped against the side of the bathtub, and finally slammed onto the floor. Ugh.

I flipped on the light and picked up the camera. It looked fine. After using the restroom, I walked into the living room to confess. Although John didn't say anything, I knew he was pissed. He turned on the camera. All of the pictures I had taken were gone. Then he tried to snap a photo. A message kept popping that said, "Still Images Disabled." I was fairly sure that we were going to have to file divorce papers over this one.

John, in an angry and sour mood, went to bed. I stayed up to fiddle with the camera. I took out the disc that was in the camera and replaced it with a new disc. Finally, the camera started functioning again - thank God.

The moral of this story is to take very, very good care of $1,000 cameras (unless you are looking for a reason to get divorced).

Stereotypes are kind of funny

I like to believe that I am an open-minded person. I appreciate people of all colors and backgrounds. However, we have all heard racial stereotypes before. We know what they are, but we try not to mention them.

So, John and I were driving through Philadelphia last weekend. John decided to take a "new route", which basically means that we drove aimlessly through the streets. We were in a rough part of Philly, when I witnessed some pretty funny shit.

First, we were at a stoplight, when a black man approached the corner. Guess what he was eating? A piece of fried chicken. Kind of funny.

A few blocks down, I saw a black woman walking down the street. She was also eating. Guess what she had? A piece of watermelon. John and I both chuckled.

A few more blocks down, I saw a Hispanic woman and her child walking down the street. Guess what the kid was wearing? A sombrero. At this point, we were both laughing hysterically.

What are the odds of seeing this many stereotypes on one street?

When John and I got home, we were talking about all the weird things we had witnessed in one day. I asked, "What would be a good stereotype for a white person?"

John responded with, "I guess judging and stereotyping other people." So I guess we were being stereotypes too.

Bean's update

A while ago, I wrote about my cousin Bean's cancer scare. She was scheduled for surgery weeks ago, but the operation kept getting postponed due to her doctor's erratic schedule. Personally, I think her doctor is an incompetent prick. However, Bean insists that he is wonderful.

So after a long wait, the tumors were finally removed last Tuesday. The surgery was performed using laparoscopic technology. Three small incisions were made in her abdomen. Although Bean was incredibly sore after the operation, she was impressed by the tiny incisions. Unfortunately, we still do not know if the growths were cancerous.

I wish the story ended here, but it doesn't. During the surgery, her doctor noticed that her ovaries were intertwined with her bowels. This is the most likely source of her stomach pain. Although I do not know all the details, her doctor has decided that Bean needs to have a complete hysterectomy. She is going back in for surgery next Thursday.

I called Bean after the surgery, and she seemed to be in good spirits. We talked about lots of nonsense, while avoiding the seriousness of her situation. I haven't yet revealed my pregnancy to my family. I fear telling Bean more than anyone. Of course she'll act happy, but I am afraid that my pregnancy may be a little disturbing to her. In a way, I hate that I have to share my wonderful news with her. I feel like I am being a huge asshole.

New doctors and old bills

I finally made an appointment for Porgie at another doctor's office. One of the other moms in our swim class highly recommended a practice about 20 minutes from our house. I researched the practice on my insurance company's website, and discovered that they were in-network.

The receptionist who answered my call was extremely nice and helpful. I really think I am going to like this new office. I basically despised all of the receptionists and nurses at the old pediatrician's office. They were always bitchy and short with me. But, I tolerated their attitude because I loved two of the pediatricians at that office.
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The drama is already beginning with the insurance company and my OB. I have already received a bill with out-of-network charges. Apparently, my doctor is in-network, but the location I visited is not. The claim is being resubmitted under the doctor's tax ID, as opposed to the location. Hopefully, everything will be worked out.

I called the billing department at my OB office to complain. The woman I talked to assured me that I will not be responsible for the bill, regardless of what the insurance company decides. Although I am comforted by this information, I am also very concerned about the next 6 months. I am I going to have to call and bitch every time I get a bill? If the bills keep being processed out-of-network, I am probably going to switch my OB (which breaks my heart).
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We have lots of bills from the hospital where I delivered Porgie. Every month, we receive 4 bills from different departments. However, for the past 2 months we have only received 2 bills. We just assumed that maybe the insurance company decided to pay a larger portion of the bill. However, we have started receiving calls from a collection agency regarding these two bills. John explained that we have not received these bills, but the jerk on the other end insisted that the bills have been mailed. He told us to contact our post office. WHATEVER. Why would the post office successfully deliver only two of our hospital bills for several months?

I am basically at a loss. If we aren't receiving bills, how in the hell are we suppose to pay them? I have decided not to worry about these bills until we start getting bills in the mail again. Fuck them.

Tests make me nervous

Although I know that many mommies disagree, I am pro-choice. I believe that all women should have access to safe and legal abortions, regardless of the situation. With that said, I could never have an abortion. NEVER.

When I was pregnant with Porgie, I refused all of the prenatal testing that looks for genetic problems with the fetus. My greatest fear was that the doctor would find something abnormal, and in true Christy fashion, I would fret and worry until I made myself sick. Because I would never abort my child, I really didn't want to know this information ahead of time.

At my last OB appointment, Dr. S tried unsuccessfully to get me to agree to prenatal testing. She explained that I am not at high risk for having a child with a chromosomal anomaly, but that it can randomly happen to anyone. She also explained how difficult it would be a raise two small children - especially one with a major disability. I still refused that testing.

The sad truth is that John would want me to abort our child if it had a major disability. I don't even want to go down this road with him. So, I choose to remain ignorant and unaware of any disabilities my child many have.

Going to the beach

It was pretty hot out last Saturday, so John and I decided to go to the beach. We packed up our beach towels, sunscreen, and bathing suits. We jumped in the car and headed to Ocean City. It was about an hour drive from our house, so I sat in the back to entertain Porgie and feed her dinner.

We are pretty new to this whole beach thing. Keep in mind that we used to live in Kentucky - 10 hours from the nearest beach. I was wearing capri's and a tee shirt. John was wearing shorts and a tee shirt. Porgie was wearing a onesie. Obviously, we were dressed for some summer fun.

We arrived, only to find all of the other people wearing sweaters and jackets. We got out of the car, and quickly realized that it was at least 30 degrees cooler on the beach. I was shivering, and Porgie looked like a little ice cube.

Because I am always over prepared, I had some pants and a jacket for Porgie. John is always telling me how insane I am for packing everything under the sun, but this time it paid off. If I hadn't bought some warm clothes for Porgie, there is no way in hell we would have stayed at the beach.

After bundling Porgie up, we played in the sand and took a walk along the shore. Of course, it was beautiful. I started to feel incredibly happy about living in New Jersey. Can you believe I only live an hour from the beach? I feel like the luckest girl in the world.

We also went for a walk along the boardwalk. We ate lots of junk food and looked in all the goofy little surf shops. Around 6:30, we decided to head back home. We made it back home by 7:30 and Porgie was asleep in her crib by 8:00. It was a pretty magical day.

I can't wait for summer. Porgie is going to have so much fun at the beach!

Heart attack continued...

At 8:30 this morning, Porgie and I were on our way to the doctor's office. Typically, it only takes us about 15 minutes to get to the office. However the mornings are always busy, so with traffic it takes us about 30 minutes to get there. We arrived at promptly 9:00.

Porgie was being a little sweetie. She smiled and waved her arms around and was genuinely adorable. While waiting for the doctor, Porgie ate cheerios and crackers, while I nervously fretted about my blood work results.

Dr. S finally came in, only to announce that she is still baffled by my liver enzyme count. She believes it might be related to my gallbladder. She ordered an ultrasound of my gallbladder, which I still have to call Cooper Hospital to schedule. So basically, we are still in the dark regarding my funky blood work.

Also, my blood pressure was a little high today. Because of the various problems I am already encountering, my pregnancy has officially been classified as "high risk." Those words make my stomach tie into knots.

Finally, Dr. S tried to find the heartbeat using the Doppler. She searched and searched, but was unable to find it. So, we went back to have an ultrasound.

Instantly, a little imagine of a baby popped up on the screen. The baby was very still. I didn't see a heart beat. Dr. S was unusually quiet. She was staring at the screen intensely - a look of seriousness on her face. I knew something was wrong. Tears had already swelled up in my eyes. After several tense minutes, I finally muttered, "Do you see the heartbeat?"

Dr. S quietly answered, "No." I wanted to leave. I wanted to hold Porgie. I wanted to cry.

Suddenly, the little baby on the screen moved. Then it moved again. We all let out a sigh of relief. Dr. S kept saying, "I saw that baby move! Did you see that baby move?" We stared at the screen, while my baby squirmed and wiggled around. The baby moved into a better position, and we finally saw the heart beating.

I shit you not, I almost had a heart attack right there in the ultrasound room. Hands down, this was the scariest OB appointment I have ever had.

I am so lucky and blessed. I just can't wait until this baby is in my arms. Then, I'll finally be able to relax.

Heart attack

I can't really get into the details right now (Porgie won't take a nap), but this morning's visit was both terrifying and fantastic. I just want you guys to know that the new little baby is fine. I'll post the whole story later on today.

Monday is a fun day

I have my next appointment to see my OB on Monday. I am pretty excited about the visit because I will get to hear the baby's heartbeat for the first time. However, I am also pretty nervous about hearing the baby's heartbeat for the first time.

I think all pregnant women worry at this stage. I don't feel pregnant and I don't look pregnant, so my mind automatically worries that maybe I am not pregnant. I know that these fears are irrational, so I try to push them to the back of my mind.

John has to work Monday, so Porgie and I will be venturing to the doctor's office alone. I am a little nervous about this new adventure. What if Porgie screams and cries? What if the nurses and doctors roll their eyes and click their tongues?

I plan on bribing Porgie with crackers and wagon wheels. If all else fails, I will give Porgie my car keys. That kid can play with my keys for like 30 minutes. Apparently, keys are very fascinating (but I am sure most of you already know this).

I am hoping that my doctor will also have the results from my latest round of blood work. Wish me luck.

The insanity

So, Porgie as gotten into the habit of sleeping until 8:00 am. This is fabulous and delightful and wonderful and amazing. Except, I think the world is conspiring against me. It seems like everyday, someone or something wakes her up early.

On Wednesday, at about 7:00 am, one of my damn dogs started eating food. Now to fully understand how loud this can be, I have to explain. Daisy is basically a retarded asshole. She refuses to eat her dog food from the bowl. Instead, she gets a mouth full of food and walks it into the hallway (directly in front of Porgie's room). Then, she drops the food on the floor and proceeds to eat. I heard her chomping, so I tried to shoo her away without making noise. Daisy continued eating until she woke up my baby. Although I love Daisy, a tiny part of me wanted to rip her head off.

On Thursday, John got up for work at 4:30 am. He was stomping around the house, making tons of noise (because he is an asshole and is physically unable to be quiet). Of course, his loud ass woke Porgie up. I went in to feed her a bottle, but she refused to go back to sleep. For the next three hours, Porgie cooed and played and cried. I tried to feed her multiple times, but the bottle thing just wasn't working. When I finally took her out of the crib, she was in a sour and cranky mood. As punishment for letting her cry, she was a nightmare for the next two hours.

This morning at 7:30 am, all was quiet. I was sleeping, Porgie was sleeping, and the dogs were sleeping. Suddenly the phone started ringing. Why God? Why? By the time I made it into the living room, the phone had stopped ringing and Porgie was screaming. I checked the caller ID to see who would call my house at 7:30 in the morning. It was my doctor's office! Seriously, I don't care what type of information they had to tell me - it can wait until 8 or 9. Crazy bastards.

So anyways, I have my fingers crossed for tomorrow.

I think I am in love...

Last weekend we went to an Ikea store. I think I am in love. Ikea has lots of reasonably priced, descent looking furniture (not great, but descent). The selection is huge. HUGE. I was overwhelmed by how massive the store was. During our trip, I fell in love with many different items. By the time we left, I had constructed a list of items I would like to purchase. Some of the things I want include patio furniture, a futon, a desk chair, a toddler bed, and of course new cabinets for my kitchen.

Fortunately, John and I were able to keep our wallets closed. I am happy to report that we didn't buy anything - we just looked. However, I think we have decided to buy the futon. Our foldout couch is just old and crappy. Oh, and super uncomfortable. With a new futon, I could sleep in peace. Can you imagine? Me sleeping! Just the thought of sleep sends joy pulsing through my body.

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Lately I have had a lot on my mind. When I went in for my first OB appointment, I also had some routine blood work performed. The next week, my doctor called to tell me that the results were a little alarming. Apparently, I had a high white blood cell count (which indicates that I am fighting off an infection), and I also had a high liver enzyme count (I don't really know what this means).
.

The doctor thought that maybe the lab had screwed up my blood work, so I had to have more blood drawn and analyzed. I received a call yesterday from my doctor's office. Apparently, the results came back the same this time around. So, my doctor has ordered more blood work.

I really haven't been able to think about anything else. I can't wait to have this next round of blood work performed, so that maybe my doctor can pinpoint the problem. I am making myself insane with worry.
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Because I want to brighten your day, here are some pictures of my beautiful baby girl. Enjoy!

I made this bikini myself. Aren't you proud?

Look at that smile. Damn, my kid is cute.

Porgie is very interested in the fridge. She can't open the door, but she still tries.

Oh, the cuteness.

Peekaboo, I'll scare you

Porgie is a beautiful, smart baby girl. I love her to pieces, but she is a little strange. Since birth, Porgie has displayed several weird habits and hang ups.

Porgie is terrified of Peekaboo. If you try to play this innocent game with her, she cries. Not just a whiny cry - a quivering, distressed cry. On numerous occasions, strangers have accidentally attempted to play Peekaboo with my baby. Afterward, they apologize profusely.

Also, Porgie likes to scratch her butt. At first I thought she had some eczema on her rear end, but upon inspection I discovered that her bottom looked great. No eczema and no diaper rash. However, every night when I take off diaper, she instantly starts scratching. Personally, I think she is a little too much like her daddy.

Lastly, Porgie has been obsessed with the Old MacDonald song since she was an itty bitty newborn. Porgie was a very high needs baby, who cried a lot. A LOT. However, you could always calm her with a few rounds of Old McDonald. The louder you would sing, the quicker she would calm down. To this day, Old McDonald will make her happy when nothing else will.

My baby is a little weirdo.

I hate insurance companies

When we moved to New Jersey, I was already 24 weeks pregnant. Of course, I didn't know anyone who could give me a recommendation for a good obstetrician, so I just ended up going to one of the first places I called. Fortunately, I ended up loving my new doctor. Her office and the hospital she worked through both accepted our insurance, which was great.

Being the slacker that I am, I failed to look for pediatricians before Porgie was born. So, I just ended up taking her to the pediatrician that took care of her in the hospital. Being the naive girl that I am, I just assumed that they accepted my insurance.

Since Porgie's birth, we have been receiving numerous bills from the pediatrician's office. I honestly never analyzed the bills, I just paid them.

On Friday I received a bill for Porgie's nine month check-up. The bill was for $106.00. According to the bill, I was responsible for $85.00, the insurance company was responsible for $0.00, and there was an adjustment which subtracted $21.00 from the bill. Now, I might be a little dumb, but this bill obviously was incorrect. Why would I be responsible for 80% of the bill.

I called my insurance company to bitch, when the girl on the other end explained that they do not pay for out-of-network doctor visits. What? I explained that I went to an OB who worked for Cooper Hospital (who accepts my insurance), delivered my baby at Cooper hospital (who accepts my insurance), and took my daughter to the pediatrician who checked her out at Cooper Hospital. Obviously, the pediatrician had to be in-network too.

The lady on the other end proceeded to tell me that the office where I have been taking my baby is not in-network, nor are any of the doctor's from that office. I was stunned. How could no-one have told me?

Sure enough, I went back and looked at the bills we received after Porgie's birth. The OB and hospital expenses were covered (at least partially) by our insurance. However, our insurance company failed to pay any of the pediatrician charges - even for the initial newborn care in the hospital.

I am extremely confused. How can an insurance company accept charges from the OB and the hospital, but not the pediatrician? When you have a baby, there are several people who have to be present in the hospital - like the pediatrician. I just don't understand.

With a heavy heart, I decided that I had to change doctors and hospitals. The only other hospital close to our home accepts our insurance, but guess what? The OBs from that hospital do not accept our insurance. AHHHH!

I am so fucking frustrated. I want to rip all of my hair out. FUCK!

Slumber

I am feeling a little run down lately. Once again sleep deprivation is kicking my ass. I find myself dozing off while Porgie is playing on the floor. I find myself dozing off whenever Porgie watches Sesame Street. I find myself dozing off while feeding Porgie a bottle. Yet, I often find myself wide awake in the middle of the night.

Seriously, I think I am developing a sleep disorder. I have lots of trouble going to sleep at night - even though I am extremely tired. When I do finally go to sleep, I wake up at the drop of a hat. After Porgie wakes up for a bottle (which happens multiple times a night), I lay awake in bed for hours. When the morning finally arrives, I am exhausted. This is becoming a major problem because it is negatively affecting all aspects of my life.

I often fantasize about taking Tylenol PM.

I just want sleep. I just want a long, peaceful slumber.

Although I am thrilled about being pregnant, I am scared to death. How am I going to function with two babies and no sleep? As you can see, I can barely function with one.

John is truly a great guy. I think he can tell how horrible I have been feeling. Our basement has three small rooms that are finished off. Until now, each room was filled with boxes that we never unpacked after the move to New Jersey. Last weekend he cleaned out one of the room, so that I could sleep on the foldout couch - away from crying babies and snoring husbands. Unfortunately, the couch was so uncomfortable that I ended up getting even less sleep.

So, things are not so good right now.

Its all my fault...

As you already know, Porgie is a horrible sleeper. At nearly 11 months old, she still routinely wakes up twice per night. I have read numerous books about sleep, and I have implemented various techniques to try to alter her sleeping habits. Nothing has helped.

Yesterday I received a copy of Child magazine in the mail. I was reading the section on health, behavior, and feeding. One of the questions immediately captured my attention. The parent said, "We had a stressful time during my wife's pregnancy with our third child: a house fire, a job change, and her uncle's death. Things straightened out before our daughters arrival, and we've enjoyed her first two years a lot - except for her terrible sleeping habits. Her siblings were easier. Could stress have affected her in the womb?"

The doctor responded with, "There is now evidence that prenatal mood disturbances are associated with sleep disruptions: A study last year at the University of Rochester Medical School found that children whose mothers were anxious or depressed during pregnancy had more sleep problems at 18 and 30 months old. This finding fits in with previous animal studies showing that prenatal stress hormones may reset the biological sleep clocks in mammals' offspring."

During my pregnancy with Porgie, stress was a major factor in my life. At the beginning of my pregnancy, I was working in a horrible school district. Everyday was filled with anxiety and anger and general unhappiness. Midway through my pregnancy, we moved to New Jersey. Finding a new home, selling our old home, coordinating the move, etc. was incredibly stressful. Toward the end of my pregnancy, my blood pressure sky rocketed, I nearly fainted several times, and had difficultly feeling fetal movement.

As you can see, my pregnancy was definitely filled with stress. I think I am the reason that Porgie can't sleep.

P.S. Did you notice that the article said these children had more sleep problems at 18 and 30 months? Sniff, sniff. I am never going to get a good night's sleep. Sniff, sniff. Excuse me, I have to go wipe the tears from my eyes.

This and that and the other

Enough about me already, lets get back to the real reason you guys read my blog - Porgie. So, my baby has learned how to dance. For weeks, John has been singing a goofy song and dancing around the living room. A few days ago, Porgie decided to start dancing too. She shuffles her little feet around and smiles. Without a doubt, it is the cutest thing I have ever seen.

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I bought Porgie some new shoes. A few weeks ago, Eva emailed me about a sale on Robeez shoes. I was all excited, but then John reminded me that they are leather. Since we don't eat cows, John thought it would be nice if we didn't wear them either. I was all upset and started lamenting about how Porgie needs soft soled shoes for walking. So, John did some research and found some adorable cloth soft soled shoes called Isabooties. I bought Porgie this pair and this pair. They arrived in the mail last weekend, and I love them.

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So, I think Porgie is ready to go down to one nap per day. Some days she absolutely refuses her morning nap. Other days she absolutely refuses her afternoon nap. And sometimes she takes both naps with no struggle at all. I guess I'll just keep offering both naps until she starts consistently refusing one of the naps everyday. I have to admit, I am pretty upset about this new development.