Well, Kylie made it back from Rhode Island in one piece (whew). But now I know why the house seemed so quiet…because it WAS. :) She came in Tuesday night at 12:45 and plopped down on our bed with a big sigh as if to say, “I’m exhausted!” All I could muster was, “No, no, no. . . I love you, I’m glad your home, but it’s almost 1:00 am. . . I am not having a conversation right now. Talk to you tomorrow.” (Of course, I spouted this off on my way to the bathroom for my now routine middle-of-the-night pee.) Now, for those of you that are thinking I’m cold or unloving, let me explain. I got a text from her at 9:15 saying that her friend Trevor that she was riding with had just gotten a speeding ticket. She included that it was a good thing they were already in town so it would be easy for him to take care of it. 9:15. . . 12:45. . . Let me continue the timeline. That put them about 30 minutes from Trevor’s house. At 10:45, I got another text stating that she was leaving Trevor’s to get her car from Michael’s house. That leg of the journey should have taken an hour, tops. She rolled in at 12:45. The sympathy meter topped out somewhere around 11:45. Here’s another bit of info. On the morning that they set out for Rhode Island, she left the house at 4:30 or 5:00. . . IN THE MORNING. However, on the way home, they slept in. Last night, I said, “I’m glad to have you home.” She said, “I’m glad to be home.” No, you’re not. . . but I understand. :) She’s growing up.
We’re at 25 weeks now. I looked at blogs from Mallory to see when I started swelling. I found it. If you go to March 2007 and read the one called “25 Weeks”. Did I mention that I’m at 25 weeks? :) Nothing huge yet, but they are swelling a little. I’m keeping an eye on them. I forget if I have explained this already, but my placenta is on the front. It’s not rare, just differernt. The only drawback is that it cushions the kicks and movements, more for Johnathan than me. He has tried several times to feel Tater Two move, but s/he just goes still when Daddy places his hand on Mommy’s belly. I noticed yesterday that I could see my belly move. So last night, we were sitting in bed, and T2 started moving. Johnathan finally got to feel it. That’s always a special moment. I think there is always a little disappointment until he gets to share in the experience.
Recently, my boss had a departmental get-together at his home. There was an understanding that he had a pool and that it was open for us to use if we wished. Well, I have long held to be the belief that co-workers and bathing suits don’t mix. I determined that way back when I was a size 2. . . and I am not about to change my mind now that I’m maternity sized (whatever size that is). That being said, I did not pack a bathing suit, etc. for Mallory. Johnathan and I weren’t getting in the water; therefore, neither was she. . . or so I thought. It was all we could do to keep the child out of the pool. There were times when we were standing on the stairs in the pool clutching one arm while she “wallered” as much as possible, imploring us to let go. The good news was that I had a change of clothes for her. The bad news was that she was in for such a long time that her regular diaper started deteriorating (never let someone tell you that a swimming diaper isn’t necessary). We had to drag her out and wrap her in a borrowed towel kicking and screaming. . . until she realized she was cold. (She is so cute coming out of the shower or tub or pool saying “Cold, cold, cold”. Of course, that also offers a perfect snuggle opportunity.)
Our neighborhood pool is going to open fairly soon (either that or hell is going to freeze over. . . we’re taking bets on which will happen first). Our developer, while a nice man with great ideas, lacks a little in execution. The kiddie pool is mere feet from the deep end of the pool rather than the shallow end. Brilliant! So in the interest of keeping our child alive, based on the story above, I decided that swimming lessons were necessary for Mallory’s survival. We go Monday – Thursday for 2 weeks. That’s eight 30-minute lessons. We finished week one today. It’s just Mallory and a 10-month –old in the class. The first day, the teacher said, “Just hold her and bounce up and down to get her use to the water.” Whatever. Within 10 minutes I was getting, “Let go, mommy.” Ummmm. . . no. The teacher said, “If she let’s go, what are you going to hold on to?” Okay. . . she’s 2. She got about 4 or 5 words of that sentence and still doesn’t care what you said. We’ve tried singing a mock-Barney song (“the kids in the pool go splash, splash, splash. . . ). Yeah, not into that. . . me or Mallory. We’ve tried kicking while holding on to a noodle. “No noodle.” Tried a kick board. “No kick board.” Blow bubbles? “No bubbles.” All she likes to do is jump from the side of the pool. No kicks, no moving arms, no nothing. Just “More jump, mommy.” On the second day, I had to get out of the pool 3 times to chase her down. Yesterday, the teacher said to the other mother that “No” is the favorite word of 2-year-olds. The mother said to her baby, “We’re not going to learn that word, are we?” Ah (sigh), we’re all so naïve so early on. All I could do was chuckle to myself. Good luck with that! lol Finally, I think we have found a game we can both live with though. Yesterday, Mallory grabbed a rubber duck and threw it in the pool. I said, “Do you want to go get the duck?!” “Yes!” with a big smile. So she jumped in, and I got her to kick all the way to the duck, reach out for it and kick all the way back to the side. Victory is mine! Bwahahahahah! My next goal is to get Daddy to show up to take video and/or participate. (This is when you guys comment and give him crap about it. . . got it?)
Part of the “fun” (yes, it’s in quotes to denote sarcasm) of going to swim lessons, is changing into and out of the bathing suits. Surprisingly, Mallory has actually been really good during this process. I change her first, then I put on my oh-so-flattering maternity suit. Other women in the locker room probably think I’m nuts because I talk to her the entire time. All I know is that I must keep my child engaged or she’ll find something else to do. . . that I probably won’t like. To be quite honest, I have a terrible fear of having to chase her out of the locker room (the doors stay propped open) with only half of my bathing suit on. Hopefully, that is a blog you’ll never have to read. Anyway, there are things that happen every time. Like she just has to throw away her diaper once it’s off. “Yucky diaper, mommy. Trash.” Okay. Let’s take care of that and get it off of your agenda so we can move on. After lessons, she digs through her diaper bag until she finds a fruit snack. That occupies her while I change out of my wet bathing suit. Another routine part of this process is me going to the bathroom. . . of course. Well, daycare has been working with Mallory going to the potty. She finally did the other day. Yay! Apparently, they make a really big deal out of that. So yesterday, we went into a stall for mommy to potty. As usual, she was watching my every move, very interested in what was going on. While I was in progress, she said, “Mommy pee! Yay, mommy! Yay!” and started clapping like crazy. All I can picture is other women in the bathroom snickering. Thank you. . . thank you very much.