Little Miss A

It is in this outfit that Allyson wants go to outside in the rain and help her Dad mow the lawn.


My little (insane) princess.


Needless to say, we changed and watched from the safety of the garage.


~Becky

Being ridiculous, being a mom

I’ve been struggling with this whole “last baby” thing. I’ve written about it before and thought that the feeling would just pass but I was wrong. The tug at the heart strings keeps popping up. It shows up at completely random times and for totally ridiculous reasons.

Yesterday I went to Babies R Us for diapers and a few other things (and ended up spending WAY too much moolah, but that’s another story) and stood there in front of the diaper aisle for about ten minutes. Andrew wears size 2 – Pampers Swaddlers. If I’m at Babies R Us I’m going to buy the gigantic box of diapers. Logically, I know that he’s growing out of the size 2’s and I should really buy size 3’s. But…size 3’s are Cruisers. He’s not cruising yet. I have no desire for him to “cruise.” I want him to remain “swaddled” for as long as possible! So…after some serious contemplation I found a box of Swaddlers Size 2-3. Phew! I was saved. (Now let’s just hope he doesn’t explode out of these before I get to the end of the box.) Ridiculous, right?

And then there was the start of cereal. With Ally, I was gung-ho the minute she turned 4 months old to start her on cereal. I was so anxious for her to grow up and get bigger that I had no problem reaching and passing these development milestones. With Andrew…not so much. I put it off, enjoying our time nursing. Maybe it’s because he’s such a phenomenal sleeper (through the night at least 8 hours since 2 months old – BOOM!) that I didn’t feel the need to introduce it. Maybe it’s because my nursing problems subsided so much sooner. (It hurt to nurse Ally until she was almost 6 months old. This time it was two bouts of mastitis in month 1 and then I was fairly good to go. I know, I know, ouch – but I persevered!) Whatever it has been, we just started it last week and even then I was hesitant. He’s doing great though.

Maybe it’s the fact that he’s my son. And although our relationship is still new, I really feel that this mother/son thing is completely different than it is with my daughter. It’s a different kind of love. Not stronger or more meaningful – just different. And when he looks up at me with those big brown eyes and grins his big grin, I just melt. I want him to slow down and be my five month old baby boy for as long as possible. He’s been such a wonderful, easy going, happy baby so far and I don’t want that to pass. (Maybe it’s because I have a feeling that I’ll be in for it once he starts walking and I’ll long for the cuddly days.)

Whatever it is I’m going to cherish it for as long as I can. I’m going to write about it here and in my journal and in his baby book. I only hope that he will someday understand just how much I love him and how much he means to me. He may get bigger, pound by pound and inch by inch, but I know that he will always be my Little Man.

~Becky

It's a Balancing Act

Motherhood. What some women wait their entire lives for. What other women swear up and down they’d never participate in. What some women give their everything (bodies, husbands, money) to have. What I ached for all of a sudden and succeeded in getting twice.

As a child, teen and even young adult, I never thought I’d have children. Granted, I was only 25 when I got pregnant with Allyson but up until that point I wasn’t interested. I think it was meeting and falling in love with Steve that made me change my mind. Today, I couldn’t imagine not being a mom and I thank my lucky stars I have two healthy, beautiful children to show for it. However, as I sat and had a conversation with one my of my employees today, I realized how much just being a mom really means to me.

She just got back from maternity leave (her son was born two weeks after Andrew) and we turned a normal 1:1 into a discussion of motherhood, “mommy guilt” (that evil, wretched curse) and being a working mom. Yesterday was the first day she dropped her son off at daycare and we talked about the sadness that you go through when you do that for the first time, but also the relief of coming into the office and getting to just be yourself for a few hours. We agreed that it meant a lot – and maybe this is where the whole battle between working moms and stay-at-home mom’s comes from – to be able to be physically detached from your child for awhile.

I firmly believe that I am a better mom for working. I feel like I appreciate the time I spend with my children more. I feel that I am more patient with them and actually, physically enjoy them more when I come home to them after work. Don’t get me wrong. The ideal relationship would probably involve working a few less hours a week, but I’m thankful I have a job that lets me work from home on Fridays and escape to pick them up early if I feel the need to.

I’m sure other moms wouldn’t feel this way. In fact, I know it. I truly enjoy being able to think about debit cards, ATM processing, establishing relationships and nurturing the careers of my employees on a daily basis. I get stressed and think “I could throw in the towel and quit – we’ll figure out how to pay the bills,” but I’m always thankful to be able to go back to that world where I get to be Becky (even Rebecca when I’m feeling especially professional) and forget about being “Mom” for awhile. Do I feel guilty for feeling this way? Sure. But I always come back to that piece of mind in knowing that I’m a healthier person for my children because I am able to spend some time apart from them. I know Steve’s thankful too – I think he prayed for the day I went back to work after maternity leave because I stopped calling him at 2:30 and saying “when are you coming home!?!?!? I need help!!!”

So, I’ll continue working. And I’ll continue with the mom guilt. But there is only a very small part of me that thinks “maybe we could make it work if I quit and stayed home with the kids.” The majority of the time, I get my kisses and hugs at the daycare door and wave good-bye as I head into the office – excited about what awaits me. Then I have all day to think about those adorable little smiles, the same kisses and hugs and the loud exclamations of “you’re home!” when I walk in. Makes me smile just thinking about it. I love those little munchkins, but I also love being someone other than “mom.” I can (and do) make it work being both.

~Becky

Scared there for a bit...

Just had a whirlwind last couple days. What started as a simple doctors appointment for the kiddos turned into an admission to the hospital for Andrew.

Let me start from the beginning. Thursday night both kids got fevers. They both had had shots that morning at their 3 year and four month appointments (Ally and Andrew respectively) so I wasn't overly concerned with the fevers. Tylenol and early bedtime was all that we did. Then over the weekend they both started to get coughs. Now, I can handle my cough, I can handle Ally's cough okay, but Andrew's cough - not so much. It worried me. So, we stayed home, took it easy, I nursed Andrew often (he was still eating just fine) and just played it by ear. Sunday was Superbowl and the kids both actually had good mornings - health wise. We headed down to Mike and Morgan's knowing that we wouldn't go overboard, just relax and watch the game.

By about 5:30 they both started to get bad again. The coughs got worse and they were both uncomfortable. We went home early and turned in for the night. Overnight was pretty bad too. They were both up coughing most of it. At 8 Monday morning I was on the phone with the doctors office getting them both in.

We headed to the office and got right in at 9:45. The doc took a look at Ally first and diagnosed an earache. Antibiotics and rest for her. Then the doctor (not our normal doc) heard Andrew cough and immediately changed her focus. She ran out of the office and grabbed a machine to monitor his pulse/oxygen level and had a heck of a time getting the thing to stay on his little toe. That machine always reminds me of "E.T. Phone Home" because it makes your finger (or in this case his toe) glow red. At the same time, the nurse brought in this breathing machine. So we had the pulse/ox monitor falling off, the breathing machine loudly blowing air into this little mask, Ally freaking out cause she didn't know what was going on and Andrew starting to loudly complain because he was being fussed with and was starting to get hungry.

At that time I don't think I grasped the seriousness of what was going on - in fact I know I didn't. Because after we got everyone calmed down, I was still completely shocked when the doc looked at me and said "we're going to admit your son." She must have seen my face go white and my jaw drop because she immediately started consoling me - telling me her reasons for wanting to admit him - as if I was mad at her for suggesting it. It wasn't that I was mad, it just took me completely by surprise.

So, we gathered up our things while she called over to the hospital and made sure we had a bed. I'm thankful that Andrew was well enough that we didn't need an ambulance. It was just weird walking into the hospital lobby and saying "um...I'm here to admit my son..."

Got Andrew to the room and the nurses started looking him over. They poked and prodded. The nasal swab was an ugly experience (thanks to my Dad for being there for that one) and they had a really hard time finding a vein to draw blood from. Because they didn't know what he had, all the hospital staff had on masks and gowns. Felt like we were in quarantine - I think we actually were.

And then we waited. We went for a chest x-ray. Not so bad. He didn't seem to mind much. But when we got back his little pulse/oxygen percentages were not as high as the nurses liked so they put him on oxygen. Here's a terrible phone pic of my little guy and his tubes.

Then we just waited. We waited for the results of the chest x-ray, the swab and the blood. We heard 12 hours, we heard 24 hours. We just knew there was something wrong and he needed to get better. After awhile I heard from one of the nurses that there was a spot on his lung that looked like pneumonia. Ugh - pneumonia? But then...we heard that it wasn't pneumonia and just a viral infection of some sort.

He was started on breathing treatments and those continued every four hours. He didn't seem to mind much, especially since we just had to wave the contraption in front of his nose and let him inhale the medicine.

Finally at around 2 AM we got the results that Andrew has RSV. Respiratory Syncytial Virus (RSV) is basically just a really nasty cold. It rears its ugly head in the winter months. In adults and older children it just causes a bad cold - what Ally and I are suffering from. In infants (and even the elderly) it can be fatal. Incredibly contagious as its passed easily by physical contact, who knows where we picked it up. But at least we had an answer.

Also around 2 AM we were able to turn off little guy's oxygen. I must have stared at the pulse/ox monitor for over an hour after we turned it off willing his numbers to stay high enough to know he was breathing well on his own.

By 7, we saw his regular doctor. She came by and let us know the results of all the tests officially - nothing like hearing it all from your own doc. She listened to Andrew's lungs, thought they sounded good and just prescribed the breathing treatments to continue at home. He no longer needed the oxygen and we were safe to be discharged. Here's a pic of Andrew after he heard the news.

A few hours later we were checked out and on our way home. I really have no desire to go back to the hospital ever again - unless its for baby's being born. For that - I'm all about it (someone elses baby - not mine - we are done!)

So...a whirlwind experience it was. Steve and I were talking about how neither of us had even been admitted to the hospital (I don't count childbirth) and how scary it was that Andrew had at only four months. I am grateful that he won't remember the experience - although it wasn't a bad one, Sutter Roseville is always good to us.

Now I get to stay home with them the rest of the week. Rest and relaxation and trying to get better is on the menu. Not much else. The rule is - wash your hands often and stay away from sick people. I sincerely hope the Carroll clan didn't infect anyone else with this thing. It is nasty.

Hopefully the next post will bring happier news, but we're hanging in there.

~Becky

40 weeks and counting

Been awhile since I have written but as I left my doctor's appointment this afternoon my mind was swirling with all that's going to happen over the next few days and all that has happened over the last nine plus months. I just needed to write and get it all out.

At 40 weeks and 4 days pregnant I had my (didn't know it at the time but could have assumed) last doctor's appointment of this, my second, pregnancy. I went in, I think, hoping for some magnificent diagnosis of - "you're miraculously 8 centimeters and ready to have this baby any second - how have you not felt any of this?" HA! Who was I kidding? There's nothing going on...little dude likes it just where he's at.

So...that leaves us with induction. I guess I could have put my foot down and said. "induction, no way!" But I didn't. There's a big part of me that's just ready - ready to meet the little guy (and finally have to decide on a name), ready to have my body back, ready to be able to sleep on my stomach and wear normal clothes. Maybe that's selfish, but I honestly think that with all that has been going on, having Baby #2 will just bring things back to a level of normalcy that I can handle. I know, you're thinking, ummm....brand new baby + normalcy? Well...at least we can get into what will be the new normal. Steve, Becky, Ally, ?? - our new normal family of four. (I can't wait for this - probably the most exciting part.)

Then there's the whole "oh crap - induction's going to hurt." Well, I managed to make it through last time, induction and all. Granted, my water broke and I fought the introduction of pitocin tooth and nail until I had no other choice. Maybe this time will actually be easier? HA! (What a wishful thinker I'm being.)

Back to the induction. Monday morning at 6:30 I check in at the hospital. Doc says with my history and how "ready" my body is, I could have him by 2. I'm not going to be so wishful, but she's the doc, not me. So, this weekend, I pack the bag, give my "only child" her last "only child" lovin's (why am I so sad about this?), make sure the baby's room is ready to go, bills are paid, house is clean - whatever else I can fit in.

That means little "Darryl" Carroll will probably be born on Monday at which time he'll have to have a real name. Steve and I have some discussions to have this weekend. October 4th, 2010 for the newest Carroll.

Then I'll be the mom of two. I've always wanted two kids, but now that we're on the precipice of actually having two I'm a little nervous. I know what everyone says "you'll love this one just as much," "they'll be such good friends," "imagine what it'd be like if you didn't have a sibling" (love you Matt - couldn't imagine that for a second). I know all the benefits, but it doesn't make it any less intimidating. I know I'm ready, just have a mind awash with all the crazy thoughts of motherhood.

And then you have the flip side. This is my last pregnancy. My last childbirth. My last newborn. Granted - this is all a choice - but two is enough for us. Steve grew up in a family of four and so did I. It just makes sense for us. That means no more kiddos for us. Little dude will be our last.

All that's left is - well - I guess all that's left is the rest of our lives. The exciting part. This pregnancy and birth are just small blips on the timeline that is our future as a family. And that...makes me smile.

Can't wait to meet you, little guy...

~Becky

34 Weeks and counting...

While I sit here in my 34th week of pregnancy number two, I am feeling wholly unprepared for the arrival of Allyson’s little brother (he still doesn’t have a name – and no it’s not Darryl.) In the midst of escrow (we’re set to close August 31st), we’re making every attempt not to buy anything, use our credit cards or make any major purchases. But as D-Day approaches, I’ve been making lists of the things that he’s going to need – that we don’t have. Might be a little odd to use my blog as a To-Do List, but when I have the urge to write, I guess all who read have to suffer along with me (and help me make sure I’m not missing anything.)

When Allyson was born I knew that we were going to have a second so I made sure to get most of the “big” items in a gender neutral color so that we could re-use them. I am incredibly thankful for that foresight now because I could not imagine buying some of these things again. I already have – in bright green – the car seat and stroller. We have a swing and bouncy seat as well as a Jumperoo and high chair.

Here’s what I still need (and am starting to freak out about):

Bedding – we have it narrowed down to two different options (I think.) One set is called “Wings.”

And the other is called “Lil League.”

I think we’re leaning towards the “Wings” set. He’ll be able to have sports stuff later on in life if he wants. All Allyson’s bed set will be passed down to her little brother. So, I already have the crib and changing table along with the dresser. (Note the other big cost – this means my kid now has no bedroom set – yikes!)

I also need to get another monitor. In the new house, the kids are on the complete opposite side of the master bedroom. I don’t really love it (but I know I’ll get there when they get a bit older.) So, I really think I’m going to want a monitor in her room as well as one in the baby’s room – at least while she gets to know her room and the way to Mommy’s if she needs me in the middle of the night.

My diaper bag was destroyed in the last year, I really beat it up. Plus it was pretty girlie. I found this Timi & Leslie bag online at Zappos.com (have I mentioned how much I LOVE Zappos?)

This item isn’t deathly important, but now I’m heading into “nice-to-get” zone.

I’ve also done a little bit of research on strollers. We hardly ever use a stroller now, but I’m thinking that with two I might need/want/use one a bit more. I really wanted to find one that I could attach the carseat too, but that would also allow for Ally to ride along as well (she’s not all that keen on being strapped in a stroller – she’s my big girl.) I found one online by Joovy called the Caboose Ultralight Stand-On Tandem Stroller. It’s a pretty cool idea. The infant is strapped in the carseat in front and then the toddler child gets to ride or sit behind. Again, a “nice-to-have,” I’ll see how desperate I become when I start to venture out with the two of them.

And then there are all the little things that I know I’ll use but don’t have my shelves stocked with yet. New binkies – I love the NUK ones. New nipples for bottles – for when I go back to work. Milk bags, a new bath sling, diapers…you know – all that little stuff. I’ve been shopping since I found out we were having a boy (I know – shocker to all of you) for clothes and I went through all Ally’s old clothes looking for gender neutral items. I think I’m all set on onesies – that’s about all I was able to separate out. I see now that my daughter was a pretty girlie girl. (No wonder she was so cute! Wait a minute, she’s still cute.) I have all the stuff I have bought him in a bin but really have no idea what kind of inventory of size I have. Once we’re in the new house I’ll line it all up and see where I need to fill in.

I’m sure I’m missing stuff, but I know that I’ll be able to wing this one a little more. I mean, I’ve already had one – I know what I’m doing, right? All this stuff will fall into place as we get into the new house, as the baby arrives and as life as we know it moves into a more normal routine. At least a girl can hope, right?

~Becky

First Swim 2010

After a few errands and housekeeping, we ventured out to the pool for the first swim of the season. Here are a few of my favorite pics from today.

Ally checking out the water in her new giraffe swimsuit.

And getting a little braver. (The pool temp was 80 degrees - not frigid but not exactly warm.)

Then she was all over it. I think we're going to have a little fish this summer.

See ya next time....

~Becky