Am I Really 30? Day Two

My Favorite Movie

This one was actually pretty easy.  As my husband can attest, I really don't like to watch movies more than once.  Once I've seen it, I'm over it.  Been there, done that.  It could be because I have watched many a movie that you end with feeling "will I ever get those two hours of my life back?"  We've all been there. 

There is one movie, not even a very popular one I don't think.  Most of my friends will say that having this as my favorite secures my spot as "least fun person ever." 

Here you go:

Love story.  Political intrigue.  Some fantastic dialogue.  Awesome! 

Don't knock it until you try it!

~Becky

Am I Really 30? Day One

I hit it. I hit the first big milestone as a real adult. 18 doesn't count, neither does 21 - you're still a kid at those ages. 30 is the big one. 30 means you're official. Whatever it is that you are, you're now a thirty-year-old {description goes here.}

What am I at thirty? Well, I'm a wife of 5 and a half years to a man I love more every day - even when he drives me totally bonkers. I'm a Mom, not a mother, a Mom. A very important distinction I think. My kids are my world. Allyson and Andrew, you give me more happiness than I ever imagined you would have. I'm a daughter (I try to be a good one), a friend (try to be good at that too) and an employee (which some times makes all of the above a little tough.)

I never feared turning thirty. In fact, I think I'm pretty excited about it. I feel like I have everything I ever wanted. A loving spouse, two great kids, two dogs, a nice house, family and friends that love me. Now its just time to see what the next thirty years (and beyond) is all about. I greet it head-on and look forward to the joys as well as the challenges.

With that, I thought I'd document a little about me. A friend of mine posted her "30 Days of 30" a year ago and I loved the idea. I can't promise that I'll be as diligent. Some days I may just throw something up here to satisfy the challenge, but I'll give it my best shot.

Without further adieu...

My Favorite Song

I love music. I know, lots of people say that. But really, how can you really pick your favorite? I'll freely admit that my absolute all-time favorites trend towards 80s soft rock with a little 90s R&B thrown in and maybe even a little 90s alternative. Must be because its what I grew up listening to. Here are a few:

Phil Collins "In The Air Tonight" - if you don't play the air drums to this song, you're no friend of mine.



P.M. Dawn "Set Adrift on Memory Bliss" - He might be a one-hit wonder, but this one will always get turned up.



Candlebox "Far Behind" - Must listen to loud.



Oh man, I could go on and on. How on earth do people pick just one?

Enjoy!

~Becky

She always makes me laugh...

Lately I've noticed that Allyson is just talking more and more (and more.) And some of the stuff that comes out of that girl's mouth just makes me stop and laugh out loud. So much so that I have taken to capturing notes of the things that she has said and when she said them. Most of these conversations happen in the car to or from wherever we may be heading.

I will now torture you, brave readers, with some of my favorites.

On 12.23.10 Ally said "Mommy, I like sunshine." How cute is that? Too bad we haven't been seeing any of that sun lately. The picture above was from one recent rare day at the park.

On 1.16.11 Ally said "I have a get under my blankets, go to sleep and make-a my warm."

On 2.23.11 Ally said "Crickets make-a my happy." I think we need to work on this "make-a my" grammar thing.

On 3.6.11 Ally said "I get bigger and reach the counter and make cakes."

As she gets older, the things she says will become more grown-up. I'll have to correct her grammar and quiz her on verb tenses. Until then, I giggle at the silly stuff she says and hope that she doesn't grow up too fast. My little "punkin" makes me proud to be her Mom more and more each day.

~Becky

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