Corn syrup!

Okay, I have heard before that corn syrup is bad for you. Well, especially high fructose corn syrup. And I read this great article about it, which proved very informative and very frightening.

Here I am, subbing at AV High School today and, with just a cursory glance at my bag o' pregnancy-sustaining treats, I have found FIVE things that contain high frutcose corn syrup: ginger ale, yogurt, trail mix, granola bar and jam on my pb&j.

The article states that fructose contributes to the following things:

• Insulin resistance and obesity
• Elevated blood pressure
• Elevated triglycerides and elevated LDL
• Depletion of vitamins and minerals
• Cardiovascular disease, liver disease, cancer, arthritis and even gout

None of those are helpful to me everyday, but especially now that I'm pregnant. I need MORE vitamins and minerals. I want LOW blood pressure. I do not want gestational or any other kind of diabetes.

Now, apparently high fructose corn syrup is not the only bad guy out there. Agave syrup, which I bought and used in tea as a substitute for honey and sugar, contains
a chemical that is especially bad for pregnant women, as it can cause a miscarriage. It's also usually so refined that there is nothing good in it. Obviously all those pink and blue packets are nasty too.

Basically, this is what I've gleaned from the info I've read this morning:

Good: stevia herb, organic cane sugar, organic raw honey (not heated), real maple syrup, molasses, palm sugar

Bad: refined sugar, high fructose corn syrup, artificial sweeteners, agave syrup

I am trying to read a lot more on this so I'm not basing my decision on two articles, but at the same time, this already troubles me. I have always been wary of following any particular way of eating because I've been afraid of trying to be too trendy. I mean, if we cut everything out of our diet that people say is bad, we may not even to get to drink water. So I don't want to get uppity about the way I choose to live my life, but it sounds like this is important enough to take notice of.

What do you guys think? Total fad or justifiable concern? Have you found great evidence on the contrary?

Sooooooo worth ten minutes

I can't wait to cook with Jack. Okay, yes, I can wait a little while. But I'm excited for this stage. Although I don't think John will let him get away with telling him, "Shut up, old man." But you never know...child actors these days say much, much worse.

Jack at (nearly) 23 months

Dear Jack,

You are growing up so fast! I can't even believe how much you're learning, even when I do nothing more than let you play around the house and occasionally be brainwashed by cartoons. You are hard to mislead, that's for sure: if I try to hide something from you, you're sure to find it. You are a firm believer that my possessions should be carried with me at all times. If I leave my phone on the couch, you will bring it to me within seconds, saying, "Hold? Hold?" You'll also bring me both remotes and any glass of water I leave behind, even if only to get a snack or swap the laundry. You have learned to put all your shape puzzle pieces in the right places all by yourself, and I love to watch you concentrate on it and place the pieces so quickly. You will ask for food and then grab my hand, trying to pull me up off the couch. When that doesn't work, you'll try to push the laptop closed.

Yesterday I followed a pregnancy yoga video and you thought it was a great game. You would mimic my poses right under me, laughing and pressing your forhead into mine. For each standing pose, you would try to run between my legs, which did not work so well since you're taller than my legs are long, so I had to just forget the concept of balance. Not quite the peaceful experience I'd hoped for, but I should have known.

You absolutely and completely love me...you are a cuddlebug and must be touching me in some capacity in order to fall asleep. Your favorite way to fall alseep on me is to pull my shirt up and rest your head on my belly, which will be adorable when my stomach is the size of a hot air balloon.

Your hair is long, blonde, curly and wispy. You've only had one haircut and you're in dire need of another, but I love your curls so. After a bath, the back of your head is filled with a myriad of little ringlets and I fall in love with you all over again.

Jack, I love you! You make me so happy, keep me on my toes and teach me constantly about how to be a better mom. I'm sorry for the times I lose my temper or get frustrated with you. You don't really understand yet and I know that. I just want to be able to communicate fully with you, but I really am so grateful to cherish this time where your broken English is cute and permissible, your playtime is fully uninhibited and your smile lights up your face when you see me.

Words you often say: "Dee-doo" (thank you), "Mama!" (the exclamation point is very important here), "Mama-Da-ee" (your new name for Daddy...weird) or "Daa--ee" (Daddy), "huuuuuu-gny" (hungry), "nack" (snack), "wahn-wah" (sandwich), "nana" (banana), "nigh nigh" (night night--bedtime), "bat" (bath), "tee" (brush teeth), "nyo-ra-njjjje" (orange), "ki" (Caillou cartoon), "mnow" (milk), "crakrrr" (cracker), "tits" (cake...seriously), "shitties" (Goldfish crackers...supposed to be "fishies"), "beet-ah" (binky...pacifier), "tooooooo" (two...you have to have two crackers, two slices, two pieces), "may-oes" (tomatoes), "min-ya" (Mickey Mouse), "wah-saw" (raisins), "nuu-nuus" (noodles), "ow-sigh" (outside), "ing-sigh" (inside), "mooooo" (moon) and "watccccccchhhh" (wants to watch tv).

When you're angry, your first inclination is to throw something. This drives me absolutely nuts, because I don't know where you learned this from, but binkies, toys and food will sail across the room, accompanied by a growl of protest. I have not found an effective punishment for this yet.

You are impervious to spankings. You might cry, but it's more a cry of anger than anything else. More often than not you just grunt in my direction and do whatever it was one more time.

You love to eat cheese, bananas, cookies, graham crackers, Goldfish crackers, pb&j sandwiches, tomatoes and fruit popsicles. You will occasionally eat avacados, strawberries, oranges, apples, chicken, beans and tortillas. You love to drink any kind of juice (just like me) and milk. You also love soda and, in a brief but unfortunate not-taking-everything-with-us-when-we-leave-the-couch episode, beer.

You love to be chased, love to chase back, love to throw sand at poor Brownie (grrrr), love to play outside. You're inquisitive, hard-headed, extremely resilient and you open my eyes in a whole new way to the world around me.

I love you, I love you, I love you! You make my day complete, with your squishy face and your warm little hands. Even when Daddy and I are out on a "date," we think about you and talk about you constantly. Daddy loves you immesurably and he can't hide his excitement when he walks in the door and you run into his arms. You make us so proud and you're not even two yet!

I love you, little love, goober, punkin pie, monster mash. I love every minute of this journey, even if it whizzes by at such an incredible speed.

Love,
Mama!

At home or in the hospital?

Now some of you have been waiting for an opportunity to weigh in on this sort of decision, since so many people called me crazy for having Jack at home. Unfortunately, the only thing putting this choice up for debate is money, or the lack thereof. I trust God to take care of us either way, but this is a source of stress for me, so perhaps talking about it will help me get through it or over it.

At home:
I loved loved LOVED having Jack at home. Not only was the idea novel in today's society, but I could stay at home, in familiar surroundings, with only our germs. No new people, no foreign atmosphere, no one following procedure over what I want or need. I can't say it was exactly peaceful when I was going through a contraction but I was surrounded only by people I chose to be there in my own house.
Many people criticize this method of birth because if something goes wrong, they say, it may be too late to get help in time. This seems to come from a mindset that no one is monitoring me at all while I'm in labor at home, and that's simply not true. Our midwife, Justine, was once an EMT and is now a licensed midwife of more than 200 successful births.
She monitored me by phone before arriving, came over once I'd reached a regular pattern to my contractions and checked on Jack via Doppler and me via pulse checks throughout my labor. She carefully studied my condition throughout labor and assisted in the crowning and birth, as well as directing us in what to do with the cord and later, birthing the placenta. She examined me after the birth, applying a couple stitches as needed. I took a little too long to stop bleeding, so she sent me to the hospital as a precaution, but by the time I got there, the problem had righted itself. She accompanied us to the hospital, remained there as long as I was there (most of my stay there was to recover from the Demerol they gave me...what a doozy) and came back to the house with us.
I never felt that in any way my safety was compromised, since Justine could recognize any signs of distress and act on them accordingly.
Our dilemma is actually purely monetary: the midwife fee went up and if health insurance covers it, it's on a reimbursement basis, so we still have to shell out the money, which we don't rightfully have.

At the hospital:
I know hospitals play a very important part in successful births, especially high-risk pregnancies. I do not discount the hospital staff's expertise or the mother's wisdom in choosing to have their babies there. I do feel, however, that many of their interventions are unnecessary and more for their own convenience.
It is not always necessary to give a woman pitocin to start labor or speed up labor just because nothing is happening. It's not always needed to ripen the cervix when dilation is not happening quickly. Epidurals are useful sometimes, but what you give the mom reaches the baby. It is horrible to make women push their babies out while lying flat on their backs, since that means you're essentially pushing your baby uphill, up the curve of your tailbone.
I want to be able to walk around, sit on a pilates ball during contractions, get in a tub, and not be tied down by machines and wires and people poking around where they don't need to be. I can only have two people with me (I had Justine, John (of course), Jaimie and Jana at my house for Jack's birth). Basically, I don't want people trying to boss me around and I don't want to deal with the anxiety of people telling me what they think I should do and me having to argue with them.
Honestly, I'm scared to go to hospital. I don't care how many people have gone there and had successful births. Going to the hospital is scarier to me than giving birth at home any day. But it could be practically free with John's new insurance.

I'm stressed out about this. Again, I know God will care for us, hospital or home, rich or poor--as He always has. I'm just picky and hope that if I have to go to the hospital that I can get over my own fears.

A good movie to watch if you want to better understand where I'm coming from: The Business of Being Born.

Pregnancy Update: Morning sickness started today, so I stayed home. And I had a splitting migraine since yesterday, which already shows me that this pregnancy is different, since I never had a headache with Jack. Vomiting with a migraine is definitely on my top ten of most horrible feelings. Pants are just a little tighter.

The pros and cons of pregnancy.

I titled this post as if I was making the decision to get pregnant, but I want to write about what I remember about my pregnancy with Jack that I did or didn't like. I know, I know, I know that this pregnancy may be completely different. But I've been thinking of all these things throughout the past few days and I thought I could relish them in greater detail here.

Pros:

• I actually loved the attention. I knew it would be the last time it was "all about me."It was kinda fun to have everyone fuss of me.
• Not having to suck in my gut anymore.
• Feeling the baby move. It's such a private, adorable thing to experience. Sometimes not so comfortable, but still awesome.
  
• I love maternity pants and their lack of useless belt loops and buttons that dig into me. I think over-belly pants are gross, but the ones that sit under your belly are wonderful
• I actually admire the maternity close at Motherhood Maternity when I'm not pregnant. Now I can wear it without looking like I've just given up on my figure entirely!
• No one argues if I have to sit down.
  
• High schoolers are brutally honest at eliminating dumb choices for names. But another post on that later.
  
• I am big for a good reason. Not big for a bunch of lazy excuses, which is the rest of the time. ;-)
• No migraines! We'll see if that changes this time around, but I loved that.
• Great hair, skin and nails from hormones and vitamins!
  

Switzerland:

• Sometimes people would gravitate toward my orb-like frontside like a moth to flame, walking toward me with a mile-wide smile and outstretched arm, as if the Force was drawing their hand there. It never bothered me one way or another--I didn't get defensive and I didn't quite embrace it--but sometimes it was just weird. Like one day a guy walked by with his family at Wal-Mart. He came over, unannounced, rubbed my belly and grinned a goofy smile. He whispered, "Congratulations!" and went back to his wife and kids. Weird enough. I can't imagine how confused and weirded out I'd feel if John touched a stranger's belly, then walked back to me as if it was normal. But here's the kicker: she looks at him and snaps, "What?!? Was three not ENOUGH for you? Do I not make you HAPPY???" Uh................ I didn't stick around for the rest of the argument.
• Why does everyone want my kid to be born on their birthday? Don't you realize that that just means I will NEVER come to your birthday party?
  

Cons:

• Morning sickness, hands down. And the subsequent purchase in ginger ale stock.
  
• Having to waddle when I walk, which took FOR-EV-ER when trying to get to the bathroom. I would have to use the bathroom between EVERY CLASS. Add the aforementioned slow waddle, possible stairs and a million rude students in my way and I would be late to each class. Every. Time.
• Stretch marks. Ugly things, I know, but maybe, just maybe I won't get more because the old ones will just reappear??? Don't contradict me on this one. Just let me dream.
• Listening to people: I'm sorry, women, but many of you are thoughtless and ridiculously rude to pregnant women. I am trying to think "happy thoughts." Only another mom would try to add to a conversation about labor by describing how Mrs. So-and-So had a 8,670-hour labor and the epidural only numbed her throat so she couldn't tell the doctors when something was wrong and the baby came out with a leg growing out of his forehead and had no liver so he died an hour later. This is not helpful!
• Old wives' tales. Scratching your belly doesn't damage your belly skin unless you are Wolverine. The way babies "sit" in your belly does not always tell you what gender you have. My baby will not drown if I have him in water! There are tons of ridiculous things that people share!
• Not being able to reach my feet. John would have to lace up my Converse for me.
• Only being able to safely sleep on one side every night.
• Heartburn and the inability to enjoy tomatoes, orange juice or anything acidic.
  

Second update on cleaning

So I haven't exactly gone in exact order and the office remains mostly untouched, but I have made progress, which is awesome.

Saturday: the living room & hallway: DONE!
Sun.: Jack's room: DONE!
Mon.: office: file paperwork away & make desk functional again, then vacuum -- NOT EVEN CLOSE
Tuesday: hall bathroom: DONE!
Wednesday: our bathroom: (mostly) DONE!
Thursday: our room: vacuum, dust, organize closet and dresser
Friday: guest room: vacuum, dust
Saturday: kitchen: DONE!
Sunday: vacuum living room & hallway again.

The beginning of TWO: Pregnant again!

I've been meaning to start documenting this experience beyond posting a Facebook status and a picture of my peed-on tests, but, honestly, I've been kind of incredulous the whole time. I mean, it was quite a surprise! This is not the best time for us to have a baby, but it is definitely not the worst--John just started a new job, which is both exciting and a little scary and we just moved into a beautiful house that we can somehow magically afford each month without much help.

I don't need to document everything--you people will want to eat happily and even have good dreams sometime, so I'll spare you any conception details. But I just knew. Did you ever, um, well just know, way before you could ever take a test? I knew. And John laughed at me, a tad nervously and suspiciously, telling me I was crazy. And secretly having a twinkle in his eye, since getting pregnant was still something we'd planned on doing again after Jack.

So we waited. And while I wasn't against being pregnant, I was hoping that I wasn't. Because, you know, we weren't trying or anything. And I can (and do) logically talk myself out of getting pregnant because I need to work and sometimes the overwhelming desire to puke my guts out vetoes that need when I'm pregnant.

So Monday night (the 15th) as I crawl into bed I try to nonchalantly ask John something that can ONLY be "chalantly" asked:

"Babe, have I been extra bitchy lately?"

Because if I had been, then that would probably mean that I've got PMS and therefore not pregnant. I hadn't had my monthly tearful breakdown about something irrelevant and petty, so I was fearful of his reply.

"Um...why?"

"Just asking."

"Well, no, actually you've been really nice to me. Really nice. Like, I didn't want to mention it in case it would break the spell."

[Stunning revelation here about how crappy I treat my husband once a month. Sorry John.]

We sit in silence, side-by-side. John has his Tom Clancy book open but he's no longer reading. I'm mindlessly flipping through a Bed Bath & Beyond circular, barely looking at the pictures.

"Do you think you're pregnant?"

"I dunno. Maybe."

And if you have ever met John or spoken to him or even emailed him, you know that he is a man of action and not not NOT a man of waiting patiently for nature to reveal it's obvious answer. He got dressed and went to the store to get me a 3-pack of EPT, commanding me to drink water in his absence. (Yes I know you don't take tests two days before you're s'posed to start with practically no pee. There was no reasoning with him.)

After two glasses and one inefficient test later, nothing I could tell. There was a super, super faint line there, but what does that mean? Was the super faint line there before I took the test? Dammit. I couldn't remember. So we went to bed but John instructed me to take test #2 in the morning with "good pee."

Morning comes, have a "good pee," forgot to look for faint line before taking test because I was near comatose from getting like 4 hours of sleep. Still a super super faint line. I whispered "The test said no" as I kissed John goodbye and resolved not to take the last test til Sunday morning.
(I also want to remember later that when John woke up he didn't believe my answer, so dug through the bathroom trash to find the test to see for himself.)

Wednesday is s'posed to be D-Day. Nothing. Is my belly fat s'posed to be more...I don't know...fatty? It feels weird.
Thursday, nothing.
Friday, nothing.
Saturday morning I wake with lots of "good pee" and think, what the heck, I don't want to waste it, might as well test. So I do and the super super faint line is...much more distinct today. And all I can do is smile. My mind races, trying to think of the great idea I once concocted as to how to tell John about the second baby...it's gone forever. So, I just take the test, walk out to the garage and shove it in front of him while he works on target stands to shoot at.

*blink*
*blink*

"Really?!?!?!"

"I think so...go get me another test from a different company."

With lightning speed he hops in the car and shouts, "Call Jaimieeeeeeeee!" as he speeds away.
I tank up on more water.
With lightning speed he returns with one of those newfangled digital ones, which will clearly say "Pregnant" or "Not pregnant." Thank God--no more lines to interpret. Why haven't we been using these the whole time?

I try to feign extreme interest in the instruction pamphlet while I wait FOR-EV-ER for the stupid thing to spit out one word. I read for an extra minute just to give it some space.

"Pregnant."

And there was much rejoicing.