tired and sick

I liken being pregnant and sick to swimming while wearing a trench coat. The entire body is engaged in a very difficult and strenuous process and then the coat adds to the already exhausting situation.

My daughter caught a cold a week and a half ago. For her, this quickly turns into an upper respiratory issue. Antibiotics are called in, a nebulizer is hooked up; we're like a mini-hospital and its only October. Her doctor says, "She has narrow passage ways that we hope will widen as she grows" that lead to this upper-respiratory cough. If left untreated the cold, turned ugly chest issue, would swiftly move into croup and I say, no thank you Senor Croup. I don't wish to meet him again.

A winter ago, non-prego, her cold/cough combo packed little punch for me. But this year, no such luck. The body, busy forming another person's pancreas and sense of sight, was too busy to fight off the infection and here I am, laid up with sickness. I've never felt so nearly what life as an asthmatic must be like; effort, both mentally and physically, is often required to breathe.

And yet, my peanut shines. In the morning my little germ-spreader awakes she calls to me. "Missin' my mommy!" I enter her room she quickly hides, only to giggle with delight when I swoop her out of bed. Sitting on the rocking chair she looks at me with a concerned head tilt and furrowed brow, puts her hand on my throat and says, "How are you feeling today mama?"

Cynicism is out the window.

At least she isn't a spendthrift

On Tuesday my daughter and I went to the zoo. She'd recently squashed my sunglasses, so we stopped at the local Walgreens to find a new pair of cheap mommy sunglasses. On the way into the store I noticed a dollar sitting on the sidewalk. I said, "Hey look! A dollar!" She reached down and picked it up - unsure of its importance. Had it been a quarter she would have been ecstatic, but as of yet, I've avoided giving her bills. I said, "That is pretty neat - a whole dollar, you should put it in your pocket and use it at the zoo to ride the carousel." She was pleased with this, but still looked at the dollar like it was funny paper that she should not keep because clearly, it was not really hers.

When we went in to Walgreens I looked at a few items. In the hair accessory aisle she set the dollar next to other green items and said, "Look match." When I'd selected my clip, I said, "Ok. Next we need to buy daddy some shaving cream. Let's go!" She said, "Shaving peam?" while following me out of the aisle with no dollar in hand. I stopped and said, "What about your dollar?" She replied, "Oh." She found it next to a green hair brush and said, "I found it!" In each aisle we visited she did the same thing, set it down, walked away from it to play with something else and then forgot about its existence completely.

At the checkout she did everything she could to pay for my things with her single dollar. She handed it directly to the cashier, she set it next to the cashiers hand, she waved it in the air like a little flag. Finally I kneeled and said, "Hunny, that dollar belongs to you now. You found it and you can keep it." She said, "Ok Mama." Certain the child understood the situation, I paid and we left. Once outside I said, "You're dollar is in your pocket, right?" She replied, "No." We turned around and found the dollar resting on a shelf near the exit.

So now I'm a dollar richer and she "found" a quarter in the car and can't stop talking about putting it in her piggy bank. Problem solved.

Telling the little one

I have begun to "show" - as they say about pregnant women. Therefore, I thought it time to tell the youngster about her new sibling arrival. She's heard it a million times before, as she was usually in ear shot of our announcement. Nevertheless, I thought it was important to have a little chat with her about the baby.

Yesterday, I simply said that mommy is going to have a baby. She will be a big sister, much like her current favorite cartoon character, Dora. She looked at my tummy for a while. Then she got on top of me, sitting directly on my tummy and said, "Now I sit on baby." Today when we were in the car she said, "Where did Mommy's baby go? Oh no. Its gone."

She's already trying to squash the little booger in utero. This might be more of a challenge than I'd previously thought. I could start ignoring her more, I guess. Oye vey.

Mel's Top Ten: I know I'm pregnant when...

1. I don't want Doritos. I NEED Doritos. I'll drive to the store specifically for Doritos and then eat them the entire way home. Nacho cheese is delicious.

2. I forget anything and everything I might need to do, just did, and thought I was going to do.

3. If my toddler stays up past her bedtime I become Zombie Mommy.

4. Milk moustache advertisements make my mouth water.

5. I show up on time to the ob/gyn, but I drove to her previous office, which she hasn't used for two years.

6. I think, "Maybe I should eat" but within 10 minutes its too late, I'm as hungry as a ravenous beast.

7. My breasts are no longer used in pleasurable experiences - they have turned into a functional tool.

8. Dusting regularly involves the use of a shop vac.

9. Walmart's "mother-daughter" commercials make me cry.

10. I dream about forgetting stuff and wake up crying because I can't remember what I forgot...in my dream.

Swimming for suckers

Tuesdays the little lady and I hit the pool for her swim lesson. It is currently the most painful 30 minutes of my life. Its as if the clock stops moving.

Let me start by saying, I love to swim. You've heard me mention triathlon - you understand? I swim regularly. I know how, I do it pretty well. Teaching my daughter to swim, however, seems to involve no skill development.

The mommy and me swim lesson involves two things - singing to my 30 pound daughter while holding her. I can skip weights today - you understand? Its like the class is designed to introduce the water to a child. My child is 2; she has lived through two summers at the pool. So you see, the real issue here is that while holding my 30 pound daughter she is twisting and writhing about trying to get away from me, in deep water, the entire time. Often she adds yelling, "No no no MOMMY NO" to her routine. She has NO interest in singing the cheesy songs because this girl, like her mother, wants to SWIM. She does not want to take direction from her mother about what hand movements go with this song or that song. She wants to swim. It seems she does not want her mother to be involved. I gather this from the yelling, you see.

I will say to her, "Do you want me to let go?" She will say yes, then she bobs under water, looking directly at me. When she comes up she is THRILLED. That part is fun. When we sing "Humpty Dumpty" and she gets to jump into the pool - she is THRILLED again.

Finally today the teacher mentioned how my girl should go up a level next session. Though this will still involve the mommy and me concept - or the "No no no no no no MOMMY NO" concept. I'm considering private lessons.