tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-80264596608687598802024-03-13T01:41:55.453-07:00Deanster MarteensterDeanster Marteensterhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09256229214064423902noreply@blogger.comBlogger50125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8026459660868759880.post-45391700134856877572013-12-31T17:14:00.001-08:002013-12-31T17:14:22.961-08:00Ringin in the New Year!I love my babies. 2014 is the year I'm gonna love my body, too! Here is a play by play of the past 5 years, most of which I have spent pregnant, breastfeeding, or pregnant AND breastfeeding. It's taken a toll on my body.<br />
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2009-I spent most of the year pregnant.<br />
2010-I spent the whole year breastfeeding.<br />
2011-I spent the beginning of the year pregnant AND breastfeeding. Then just pregnant. Then just breastfeeding. THAT was a crazy year!<br />
2012- I spent the entire year breastfeeding.<br />
2013- Still breastfeeding (until November).<br />
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It's funny that the last post I made was about breastfeeding a toddler, and Opal spontaneously decided to stop breastfeeding around Thanksgiving. She's asked for a booby only once since then. Bittersweet. I still feel drops of milk leaking out every now and then though. Guess I could always be a wet nurse!<br />
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So that is almost 5 years of baby, baby, baby! And 2014 is the year that I don't have a baby IN me or ON me (in the nursing sense:). Woo-hoo. I do a lot of calculating of the months I spent pregnant/breastfeeding and just amazes me what our bodies go through for our babies. I spent 40 months breastfeeding! 40! That is like three and a half years! Crazy to me. So, here's to ME in 2014!!! (knock on wood!)Deanster Marteensterhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09256229214064423902noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8026459660868759880.post-57395590550159131442013-11-17T21:11:00.001-08:002013-11-17T21:11:49.526-08:00Badass...So, I just happened to look at my blog for the first time in yeah...9 months! cray-cray! And I noticed my little breastfeeding ticker said I've been breastfeeding for 2 years, 2 months, 2 weeks, and 2 days! That's a lot of twos! Some people probably just think I've forgotten to take the ticker down and some just think I'm crazy like that lady on Time magazine. There's a lot of things I've failed at as a mother, but breastfeeding is not one of them. So, I think I'll get Opal this shirt...<br />
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I mean when your two your old says, " I love you, Mommy. Want some booby, Mommy," in the same breath, what are you gonna do? Deanster Marteensterhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09256229214064423902noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8026459660868759880.post-41565976863208039152013-02-11T10:56:00.001-08:002013-02-11T15:54:28.766-08:00L'eggo My....Poop?<br />
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Just another night in the tub. Opal is gripping an old waffle she found leftover from breakfast. Rather than pry it from her hands and endure a hissy fit, I let her take it in the tub with her. I choose my battles. So the waffle turns soggy of course. I call Chris into the bathroom to watch over the bathing beauties while I try on a pair of jeans. Hand-me-downs from my friend. Someone had given them to her and of course they were too big. She played it off like they weren’t long enough for her long legs, but I know that’s code for, “These are too big for me so I thought you could wear them.” I told her to not even think about it unless they were in the double digits because I haven’t seen a size eight in years. “Oh of course you can wear them. Have you been working out?” OK fine I’ll take them. So while the children are in the tub I muster up the energy to try on the largest of the three pairs of size eights. I suck it in and hold my breath. Literally. I buttoned them. I couldn’t breathe. But my butt looked pretty dang good in them. That’s when it happened. Chris and I were both admiring my assets in the bathroom mirror when he looks over and sees something on the bathroom floor…”Is that POOP?!!” he says. As I take off the jeans, I casually reassure him, “Oh, no that’s just soggy waffle.” “Well, it looks like poop.” I reassure him that Opal entered the tub with a waffle and that was the remnants of it that Cannon was throwing out of the tub. “That’s a lot of waffle.” I pick up the “waffle” with some toilet paper. “Wait, maybe that IS poop!” I am convinced as another handful of actual POOP splatters ON MY LEG! “Yes! that IS poop,” I confirm. Cannon proceeds to throw the entire poop that he has just deposited in the bathtub OUT of the bathtub. Poor Opal is sitting in the tub with her brother and his poop. So now, I am in my underwear, cleaning poop off the floor and hosing down babies. After I scrub the tub, the floor and the children, I turn to my husband (still in my undies), and ask him if he still thinks this booty is sexy.<br />
<br />Deanster Marteensterhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09256229214064423902noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8026459660868759880.post-18209649596061853252012-11-28T18:20:00.000-08:002012-11-28T18:20:18.869-08:00The Sweetest ThingI always wonder if I would have breastfed Cannon longer than the fourteen months that I did had I not been pregnant with Opal. It was so sweet nursing him to sleep and then one day he went to bed without me and that was that. I feel like I missed a lot of sweet, tender moments with him during my pregnancy with Opal as she was quite hard on me:) Though Cannon is very educated when it comes to "Mommy's boobies" he's never tried to nurse me since Opal's been born. He's been in a "Mommy" mode lately. Today he told Opal, "No, no, no, Opal, I want to see Mommy!" So at night when I'm putting Opal to bed in her room, nursing her, Cannon comes in ever so sweetly. "Hey Mommy. I want to sit beside you. I want to snuggle you." It just melts my heart. So I told him he could sit on the bed beside me and lay his head on my shoulder. So there we are, Opal in my arms nursing, and Cannon on my shoulder snuggling. It's the sweetest thing ever. Now almost nightly he comes in with his blanket while I'm nursing Opal, and says in the sweetest two-year-old voice, "I want to put my head on your shoulder, Mommy." Well, climb on up here, baby. And there we sit, the three of us snuggling. Precious moments that I'll cherish always. <br />
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On a side note, Cannon's booby vocabulary can be quite hilarious. Cannon knows his full name is Cannon Michael Martin. Sometimes he refers to himself as "Cannon Michael Tractor." Chris was teasing him today calling him, "Cannon Michael Who" (referencing the Grinch). So Cannon says, "Cannon Michael WHO. Cannon Michael BOO. Where's YOUR booby, Mommy? Under your shirt! Where's your milk, Mommy? Under your shelter!" <br />
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<br />Deanster Marteensterhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09256229214064423902noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8026459660868759880.post-54471800048342556812012-10-11T11:49:00.000-07:002012-10-11T11:49:05.942-07:00Running with Babies<br />
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Some folks are probably annoyed that I refer to my kids as "babies." Even my two year old tells me he's not a baby, he's a big boy. Well, big boys pee-pee in the potty, son! ha. But they are MY babies and they still require a stroller when we go certain places. Like running around the neighborhood, which Oh yes I did! I googled "couch to 5K" and got my post-baby booty in gear. I've only done it one day so far, but it felt good and yes there were moments as I was pushing 50+ pounds of BABIES uphill that I felt like "supermom"! And I will Turkey Trott my flabby turkey ass through 5Ks come November 17. That's only five more weeks to do a nine week program, but hey, I'm supermom. I might even sip a latte while I'm running and get one of those "3.2" stickers to go on my SUV. I've recently seen "0.0" stickers on cars which did make me laugh out loud, but that's not gonna be this mama! See ya at that finish line:)Deanster Marteensterhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09256229214064423902noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8026459660868759880.post-7017378518929657122012-10-10T12:03:00.001-07:002012-10-10T12:03:38.159-07:00I make milk.....AND babies, what's YOUR superpower?I've come to the realization that for the past three and a half years I have been pregnant and/or breastfeeding. Crazy. What body? I honestly don't remember what it used to be like. <br />
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A meeting at work today somehow ended with birthing stories share time. I love talking about my babies being born. Such precious memories. And it reminds me how I'm sure I don't want to go through it again. It's also true that there's always going to be someone's birthing story that is more dramatic and traumatic than yours and there's always one that's way easier and more euphoric than yours. <br />
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This is also true of life. Someone's always fighting a greater battle than me. And there's someone who's got it easier. I guess we're all stuck somewhere in the middle. Life is hard sometimes. At the end of the day I have these sweet babies to come home to. I love them more than anything or anyone. <br />
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Deanster Marteensterhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09256229214064423902noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8026459660868759880.post-73014584652795953652012-08-27T15:17:00.001-07:002012-08-27T15:17:22.524-07:00Ain't No Shame In My Game<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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This is my kitchen. And my laundry room. I think the washer/dryer looks awesome wedged up against the fridge personally. No kitchen is too small for an island/clothes folding station. No, your eyes haven't deceived you...there's no dishwasher! Well, there is, you just can't see me because I'm taking the picture! ha! <br />
<br />Deanster Marteensterhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09256229214064423902noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8026459660868759880.post-23670604136910437152012-07-12T17:22:00.000-07:002012-07-12T17:22:14.501-07:00Here's My Bathroom. Like you care.Confession: I read blogs in secret that aren't on my bloglist. Sometimes I read blogs that I might not even necessarily like just so that I can be like, "What? Really? Are you seriously showing us your bathroom?" Now some people might actually care about bathrooms. I care about mine. I use it every day. I mean I have a whole pinterest board dedicated to bathrooms because ONE day I hope to redo my bathroom!<br />
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I grew up in a simple brick house with three bedrooms and two bathrooms. Luxury compared to the washrooms that my parents had growing up. My mom is sixty-seven years old, the youngest of eight children. She grew up dirt poor. Not exaggerating. They had an outhouse. Not lying. My dad was rich comparitively as they got indoor plumbing when he was only sixteen. So really, I'm SPOILED! Now here is a brief bathroom history of my life (HAHA):<br />
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<li>In college I shared one bathroom with six other girls.</li>
<li>First apartment with roommates shared a bathroom.</li>
<li>First apartment by myself had my very own bathroom all by myself! yay! For about seven months til CM made his way into my house!</li>
<li>Our next house was fancy. A townhome with 3BR/2.5B. We shared the house with Chris's sister so she got the "master" and I had to share a bathroom with a boy! gross!</li>
<li>Next house: 3BR/2B for two people. Again spoiled.</li>
<li>Next house: 3BR/2B for two people and a baby. Spoiled brats.</li>
<li>THIS house:</li>
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Here is our master bath:<br />
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And here is our guest bathroom:</div>
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And here is our bathroom just for our kids:</div>
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So we have THREE bathrooms! hahahahaha</div>
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Now, if you are one of those people who actually have three bathrooms, Congratulations! And if you want to blog about your bathrooms, I say go for it! I mean I'm doing it! But don't, DON'T complain about how hard it is to clean your WHIRLPOOL tub!! </div>
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You're probably thinking this bathroom isn't THAT bad, because that's what I thought at first glance. It was one of the first things we had on the to-do list when we bought the house almost two YEARS ago, but we ran out of money and babies took over our lives. Now, you may think that is some nice classic tile on the walls, but it is not. It is one solid sheet of glossy plastic faux tile. That tub is a 1955 orignial though! I don't know what's going on with the shower walls though because they stop at an awkard height and there is plywood behind it! Yes, plywood! What? I'm really afraid of redoing the bathroom because I'm afraid of all the problems the destruction of it will uncover. That floortile is linoleum and even the walls are not drywall, but again some sort of shiny plastic material with unrepairable holes drilled all in it. The medicine cabinet is also original to the house. There are some nice storage shelves behind the door and it is not too small of a space. There is NO vent though! I have made some improvements: It has a shower curtain, a rug, some curtains on the window, a laundry basket, some candles, and a lot of unorganized fashion baskets with crap in them on the open shelves. I'll post the AFTER picture next year, or maybe the next... Humble enough to be thankful for one working toilet:) </div>Deanster Marteensterhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09256229214064423902noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8026459660868759880.post-64767415201068600072012-07-07T21:55:00.000-07:002012-08-27T15:26:58.570-07:00Who dat is? My Baby Daddy.Yesterday, I braved the doctor's office with two small children. One well check-up, one sick. Who knew it could be so complicated to have two children seen at the same time? I called the day before to set up the appointments and they don't schedule sick visits the day before, but I was able to talk to a nurse and have the two appointments back to back with the same doctor. Or so I thought. Apparently I scheduled two appointments with two different doctors. The receptionist was just as confused as I was and couldn't understand why I would do such a thing. Well, I didn't mean to and didn't realize I had. I really wanted to see the NP that I'm used to, but got stuck with a doctor that I don't really know for both appointments. To make matters even more complicated my babies are on different insurances because I'm an idiot that applied for PeachCare when given the opportunity because I made so LITTLE money last year. Only Cannon qualified though. Why one child and not the other? Who know? I don't understand it. It has been the biggest headache and I will never do it again. The issue this day was that this doctor's office was not listed at his provider. And they tried to charge me for Opal's well visit. Now I have to call both insurance companies!<br />
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ANYWAY...at this point I'm on the verge of a Mommy Meltdown because I'm already trying to contain a toddler in the waiting area while also tending to a ten month old. (Yes, I missed the nine month check up by a bit. oops.) And the receptionist keeps asking me all these questions as I try to wrangle my children. <br />
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Once we finally get back to see the doctor which I may have seen once before, she is rushing and acting like she doesn't really have time for us and I need to get to the point. She wants me to tell her what's wrong with Cannon since he's the sick one. I start by introducing myself and my children. She doesn't blink. I go on to explain that Cannon has had a very snotty nose, is starting to cough, and he is hoarse. She looks at me like none of those things are a big deal at all. So I go on to say, BUT what I'm really worried about is him having an ear infection because every time he has a runny nose, he's pretty much guaranteed to get an ear infection. The dr. quickly checks his ears and exclaims that I'm right. Duh. I know. She hasn't been rude this whole time just kind of disinterested. <br />
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Dr. tells me she's going to prescribe an antibiotic. Which one? I ask. Well, I won't know until I review his charts and history. I go on to tell her his history because I am his mother and I know! I tell her the reason I ask is because if it is Omnicef (the strongest antibiotic) PeachCare won't pay for it. Yes, they want everyone to benefit from healthcare and have it for free, but poor kids don't deserve the best medicine. Only mediocre. <br />
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Not that she's been warm and fuzzy up until this point, but the mood shifts and I become suddenly aware that she is viewing me differently because ONE of my children is on Medicaid. She then starts nosing around as to WHY one is on the Peachcare and not the other. I don't know. It baffles me, too. Then she looks me square in the eye and asks me in dead seriousness if they have different dads????? I was taken aback and scoffed a sort of snort and said no as if it were the most absurd thing anyone had said to me all day. And it was. I became offended. Really? I didn't realize I looked like the type of girl that had two babies in 20 months by two different daddies. Apparently I do. Or did she only assume it was a possibility because of my health insurance situation?? Like I was a lower class and I must sleep around. Good grief! Who has the time or energy to find a second man to sleep with when you have a baby less than a year old. I guess if I had started online dating as soon as I had given birth to my firstborn I would have been able to find another prospect. Better yet, I would have had more time to find my second child's father if I had gone manhunting while I was still pregnant with the first one. I realize that scenarios like this do happen in real life, but not MY real life. I guess she thought I wanted to celebrate my son's first birthday by having sex with a new man! So, yes condescending doctor the reason my children have two different insurance policies is because I have two different baby daddy!! I mean I know my cleavage was a creeping, but that's because my breastmilk was ready to come out not because I was ready to put out! don't think she even realized what she said was inappropriate! <br />
<br />
Moving on...her etiquette did not improve much. She was never rude just....ugh! She whizzed through Opal's check-up. I mentioned her that she had stopped taking a bottle and would not take a sippy cup though I've bought every kind ever invented. She told me not to give up because it's important that my baby stay hydrated especially in this heat. No! I'm just going to let my baby thirst. So what if she won't take a sippy cup. Too bad for her! Really? Then she proceeded to tell me that I must be doing something right because her growth is in the 99th percentile so she's obviously getting enough to eat and drink. Well, thank you. Good to know that my baby is OK despite the fact that I have government assistance. I realize there are certain things that a doctor is required to say, but I am not an uneducated whore who doesn't know what's best for my children. Then she sent me home with a box of condoms so I don't get pregnant by yet a third baby daddy!Deanster Marteensterhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09256229214064423902noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8026459660868759880.post-6524132926207872242012-07-01T20:47:00.000-07:002012-07-01T20:47:27.423-07:00Barefoot and Pregnant???Well, in the past month I've actually managed to lose five pounds! I rode my bicycle a lot on vacation and I think that really helped. I can feel things shifting to the right places gradually and on some days I actually feel pretty good about myself. Today was one of those days I was feeling good. Staying with my parents for the weekend, we were all getting ready to go to church and I realize I didn't bring any church shoes. I could have worn my flip flops, but I found a vintage pair of wedges circa 2000 in my old bedroom, so I thought I'd break them out. And break they did. As I was walking into church they completely fell apart. Maybe the heat melted the glue that was holding them together, but the bottom completely fell off both shoes. Great. However, not a problem for this country girl at a very country church. I simply threw them in the trashcan in the bathroom on my way and took my seat in my pew in my bare feet. It didn't even seem like anyone noticed at all. Oh, but there was one dear old soul that did. At the end of the service mingling, barefoot, baby-passing, baby-trading...an elderly lady that I've known my whole life came up to me, RUBBED MY BELLY, and said these words: "He's keeping you barefoot and pregnant, isn't he?" WT...? Mortified! I shake it off and remind myself that she is elderly and using a walker. A fellow new mom reassures me that she is on pain killers that cause diarrhea of the mouth. I've had several previous experiences with idiotic people suggesting that I was pregnant when I in fact was NOT, but this is the first time someone as actually rubbed my NON-pregnant belly! I did not like it. One bit. I'm getting back on my bicycle as soon as I get home!Deanster Marteensterhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09256229214064423902noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8026459660868759880.post-70296844381702889712012-05-10T11:14:00.000-07:002012-05-10T11:14:46.771-07:00Body By BabySlowly, slowly, slowly but surely I am coming to terms with my "body by baby." I've decided to document my "journey" (I would say back to my "pre-baby" body, but I've accepted that there is no such thing in existence anymore) forward to my "body by ME!" Because ME is the only way this body is going to change. I've become more and more inspired recently by women who are embracing their baby bellies. No matter how saggy, stretched out, or stretch marked! I've considered documenting pictures of my (hopefully) changing body, but don't want to be offensive! So I've decided to at least document with words my "Body By Baby" to "Body by ME." experience. I'm going to start with a timeline going "weigh" back (ha!) to my glory days if you will and documenting my body before baby. Loving the alliterations here! <br />
<br />
I don't know why, but I remember all these numbers. Perhaps I was obsessive with the scale at some points in my life. For the record I'm 5'8."<br />
<br />
At my skinniest-125 lbs. graduating from high school. Boney is more the word probably.<br />
135 lbs. graduating from college.<br />
Sometime during the post college years my weight fluctuated alot and I actually got up to around 154, but I do feel that my "ideal" weight is around 140.<br />
By the time I got married I was weighing 145.<br />
One year after I got married i was weighing 157! hmmm....first year of marriage<br />
And this is the exact time that I got pregnant! So my offical pre-pregnancy weight is 157.<br />
I gained 48 pounds while I was pregnant tipping the scale at a whopping 205! I cried.<br />
I was SWOLLEN!<br />
<br />
Here is where I started to learn a lot about my own body. It's hard to accept the staying weight when everyone around you that also just had a baby is wearing their regular clothes one MONTH post-partum! Geez. Now, everyone and their mama and strangers and their mamas would tell me that if I just breastfeed the weight will come right off. Well, I am breastfeeding! And I did for 14 months. After the initial weightloss immediately after giving birth I plateaued at 176 for a LONG time. Still 20 lbs. more than my starting weight and 30-35 lbs. more than where I really wanted to be. I learned later that apparently 1 in 5 women DON'T lose the baby weight until they STOP breastfeeding. Keeping my fingers crossed I carried on. Well, that does make some since. I mean I guess I have all this extra armpit fat and backfat to help support the D's that I'm carrying around. Sure enough around month 9-10ish the weight starts coming off pretty steadily and sure enough just as my baby is turning one I'm buttoning my old pants and the scale tells me I'm 153! A little less than where I started! And sure enough just as soon as I'm buttoning my pants I'm peeing on a stick and it's telling me I'm pregnant AGAIN!<br />
<br />
I am determined not to gain as much weight this time and make an effort not to. All is going well and I am maintaining my weight better and not gaining as much weight as fast. Then summer comes and I'm not working and it's hot as blue blazes and I don't want to move. Then a lot of different things happen and I'm on "bedrest" for the most part. Granted I probably would have gained the 50 lbs. anyway, but I tell myself that's why. <br />
<br />
So here I am eight months out of my second pregnancy and that dreaded plateau is still lingering. The scale tells me 177 on a friendly day. However, I have noticed things shifting and I did button up some pants that were one size smaller than what I had to purchase initially to go back to work in. And honestly it's not the number that absolutely kills me. It's the belly.<br />
<br />
Clothes just don't fit right. There's a certain sagginess to it that's hard to explain. If I pull up my pants too high there's the mom bulge that just looks ridiculous. If I don't pull them up high enough then there's the spill over. I really don't know what to do with that extra skin that's just hanging out down there. If I could just pull it up and duct tape it in place all would be well. I do worried that it may never go completely away and I assume that it probably has something to do with the two c-sections. But I'm embracing, remember? And the stretchmarks. I can handle the stretchmarks as long as some toning happens. So far, I've been doing a lot of walking, working out with Carmen (Electra that is, in order to be "Fit to Strip" ha), push-ups and baby curls:) So this is my journey. And as soon as school is out I'm going to be balls to the walls working out so I can make an appearance this summer in my bathing suit with a skirt. <br />
<br />
Here's my before picture. Oh the streching!!! Only 33 weeks here:<br />
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Maybe I'll work up the nerve to post a recent before picture of my current belly....</div>Deanster Marteensterhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09256229214064423902noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8026459660868759880.post-30160019340247203452012-05-09T13:41:00.003-07:002012-05-09T13:41:42.102-07:00O vs. CWell we all know that girls mature faster than boys, duh! But little Opal is living proof! She is after her "big" brother all day long following him around and studying his every move. We already know she's a good bit ahead on the weight charts. Case in point, Opal is eight months old and weighs a whopping twenty-two pounds if not more by now. Cannon didn't weight that until he was a year old. My little chub chub. She's been wearing twelve month clothes since she was six months and can wear some eighteen month clothes! Cannon still has some eighteen month clothes that he can wear! They have worn the same size diapers for months! And they fit Opal more snuggly than Cannon! Here are a few milestone comparisons between Opal and Cannon. (I still haven't put any of them in her baby book! Poor second baby.)<br />
<br />
-Cannon got his first teeth (two bottom at the same time) at 6 months. Opal got hers (same teeth on the bottom) at 7 months.<br />
-Cannon crawled at nine months, Opal at seven.<br />
-Cannon pulled up at nine months, Opal at eight.<br />
-They both started sitting up around the same time, but Opal became a lot sturdier a lot faster. She has to keep up with her brother.<br />
-Cannon didn't walk until he was sixteen months old! At the rate Opal is going it might not be long, but I am hoping she holds out a little longer! I know once she starts walking we are all in trouble!<br />
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Cannon and Opal have the best time together. They play together and talk to each other. The other day Cannon said, "Let's play with the tractors, Opal. Come dis way." He is a good big brother and lets her know when she is not doing the right thing! haha. I try to keep up with the darndest things he says and I'm going to make a list soon. I think soon we'll try to put them in the same room together. Maybe when Opal starts sleeping through the night! Cannon was sleeping through the night at three months...Opal not so much. That's one thing he's got her beat on!</div>Deanster Marteensterhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09256229214064423902noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8026459660868759880.post-14039796719953827062012-03-09T07:14:00.003-08:002012-03-16T11:11:47.056-07:00JUSTI looked up the definition of "just" just to be sure. ha. There are several definitions of the word, but the one that applies to this ongoing situation is as follows: only, merely. <br /><br />Here's the context. Before I had two children I had one. I would hear this comment frequently: Just the one? As in just the one child? Only one? Just one kid? JUST??!!! It's one of those words that the more and more I say it the less sense it makes. Just, just, just, just... <br /><br />Isn't there a better way to ask if someone has more children? It implies insignificance. Like if you only have one child you have it easy or something's wrong with you. I know a lot of people have a problem with people only having one child. Like it's any of their business as to how many kids someone has. I mean people take it personal. <br /><br />I guess I could see why some people would be offended by another's decision to only have one child. They are cursing their child with "only child syndrome." Their child will never have a sibling, will be lonely, etc. I still don't understand why people get so worked up about other's decisions to only have one child or not have any at all! Wait a minute, I'm a hypocrite, because I've had plenty of two cents about people who have WAY too many kids! oops!<br /><br />BUT this is about me JUST having TWO children! Just the two? How many kids do STRANGERS expect me to have? When do people stop saying "just"? Do people say "just the three" or "just the five"? NO! That's when people start saying, "WOW! You've got your hands full!" So what is the perfect amount of kids for these "people"? I guess 2.5 it is because that's the magic number that's never going to happen and that's why no one is ever satisfied with how many kids you have!!<br /><br />I will admit that I secretly have a longing for a large family BUT I refuse to birth any more babies out of THIS body and I DON'T believe that's what OUR bodies were made for. I don't exist to give birth. Sure, part of me wishes I could give my son a brother and my daughter a sister and they would always have each other. I value my sanity though. I don't believe this makes me selfish either. I will always do anything and everything for my TWO children. I love them more than ANYTHING in this world. They fill my heart and break it at the same time. To me no other love compares to this mother's love that I've recently discovered. <br /><br />All this being said I respect people's decisions to only have one child or not have any children at all. But I do not respect the judgement of JUST! And I do have OPINIONS of some families that have excessive numbers of offspring. Especially as I pack another child into an already filled car in the carrider line every day! However, to each her own and at the end of the day the most important thing to me is JUST my two babies.Deanster Marteensterhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09256229214064423902noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8026459660868759880.post-47698931177258993092012-01-13T10:16:00.000-08:002012-01-13T10:19:47.245-08:00Can you tell me how to get, how to get to Sesame Street?<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgH9bxlAcBEqquFFjyHWFpA9_JHPsLxs2yl2uKaxS2BEhPyORXU5SzQnsxjbQPOdYawvFs7rFHZI8cU43PR7_dK03wKv7SxLDF0P4jxJbFklyIXX1amLTahCZC1uUYQhEUkhiGg4Pdi58Q/s1600/imagesCAD5WBT0.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 184px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgH9bxlAcBEqquFFjyHWFpA9_JHPsLxs2yl2uKaxS2BEhPyORXU5SzQnsxjbQPOdYawvFs7rFHZI8cU43PR7_dK03wKv7SxLDF0P4jxJbFklyIXX1amLTahCZC1uUYQhEUkhiGg4Pdi58Q/s400/imagesCAD5WBT0.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5697182979939804146" /></a><br />http://shine.yahoo.com/parenting/sesame-street-teach-kids-breastfeeding-185000424.htmlDeanster Marteensterhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09256229214064423902noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8026459660868759880.post-66964365931504745712011-12-18T16:47:00.000-08:002011-12-18T16:55:00.328-08:00Mommy Spit Up Her BoobI have to write this down before I forget. Another hectic night trying to get two babies ready for bed. Chris is in a rush to get out the door for basketball practice and trying to find the Benadryl for Cannon's snotty nose. Cannon is in his crib saying, "Get da Benadryl, Daddy!" It is nowhere to be found. Opal is crying and refusing my boob. Cannon has become quite the helper lately letting me know when Opal spits up. "Opal spit up." Finally I go to the kitchen with my boob hanging out only to find the Benadryl in the REFRIGERATOR! What!? Chris is notorious for not remembering where ANYTHING is or what HE did with it. So I go to give Cannon his Benadryl and set Opal down on his changing table. He says, "Opal spit up." I say, "Did Opal spit up? She didn't spit up." Then he starts saying, "Mommy spit up." "Mommy didn't spit up." He says it again only this time pointing to my shirt and saying it. I look down and see a big wet spot where my exposed boob had been leaking. I laughed and suppose I said something along the lines of "Oh my boob is leaking." Then Cannon proudly makes the following sentence, "Mommy spit up her boob!" He cracks me up!Deanster Marteensterhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09256229214064423902noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8026459660868759880.post-17200158736692468802011-09-14T17:44:00.000-07:002011-11-29T16:33:50.121-08:00A Baby Story<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmV_m2qxe8OGMQtTYS_Mc0NEIgW54zzHTs3H8vQG_48nRAHmQP4g4_-JfHxNfvWP5Pslal9HJSP7XnpuhZwn7htiSY_ANCWkYeTnT6xK7aEG3negGjcRYdHnCNtisID7KBRaUMSaUJ2cQ/s1600/182.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmV_m2qxe8OGMQtTYS_Mc0NEIgW54zzHTs3H8vQG_48nRAHmQP4g4_-JfHxNfvWP5Pslal9HJSP7XnpuhZwn7htiSY_ANCWkYeTnT6xK7aEG3negGjcRYdHnCNtisID7KBRaUMSaUJ2cQ/s400/182.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5680580505225674914" /></a><br />Monday, August 29--I was feeling fairly certain that little Opal was going to be an August baby when I started having contractions throughout the day on Monday. I even called the doctor, but they never became consistent. I was feeling desperate so Chris and I went to Provino's for supper and I ordered the eggplant parmesan. (I've never actually known anyone that it really worked for). I ate my leftovers again on Tuesday.<br />Tuesday, August 30--I had a chiropractor/massage appointment. My massage therapist had been telling me to let her know when I was close enough to my due date and as long as I consented she could hit some pressure points that may help get things going. Again I'm desperate...DO IT!!<br />Later that day....I saw my regular doctor. I'm 38 weeks pregnant, but my belly is 44 "weeks" pregnant! really??!!! I'm miserable!! Don't worry, kiddo (I don't know why she always called me kiddo) only one more week. You're not going into labor on your own anyway. You're not dilated AT ALL or effaced and she hasn't budged. She's not going anywhere.<br /><br />I'm still feeling stronger contractions here and there all week and I'm taking a shower every night just in case I wake up in the middle of the night and have to go to the hospital. <br /><br />September 1 comes and goes and I'm a little disappointed that she's going to miss the deadline for Kindergarten. Silly I know, but that's the teacher in me! I'm convinced that maybe the doctor is right after all and I'm not going to go into labor on my own so I DON'T TAKE A SHOWER THAT NIGHT!!!!!<br /><br />Friday, September 2, 6:15 AM--I wake up with a crampy pain in my crotch and a strong urge to go to the bathroom. WARNING!! IT'S ABOUT TO GET GRAPHIC!!! So I go to the bathroom and I feel "something" come out. I look and there is what seems to be a big bloody ball about the size of a softball. yikes...is that my "water breaking"? I start calling for Chris and of course he doesn't hear me because he's been sleeping like a baby for the past nine months. I start banging on the bathroom wall and finally he comes in and I make him observe my passing. I then call for my mom who thankfully is already at our house. We all observe "it" as my cramping/obvious contractions are getting worse. These contractions immediately after the strange bathroom occurance. I call the doctor's office and of course they tell me to come on in. The whole thirty minute car ride the contractions are getting worse and worse and I'm getting crankier and crankier because my doctor told me I wasn't going to go into labor on my own no way no how. Granted I did eat the eggplant! We get to the hospital around 7 and Chris drops me off at the door. I enter the main entrance to the hospital because there are no signs for a labor and delivery section like luxurious Northside Atlanta. I'm obviously in pain and I tell the lady at the check-in counter that I need to get to labor and delivery (should have taken that hospital tour!). She asks if I'm in labor...YES! A nurse with a wheelchair FINALLY comes to get me after taking her sweet precious time getting there only to cart me off to a corner in the hallway because THERE ARE NO ROOMS IN THE INN!!! Now I'm thinking this is what Mary felt like! I'm put in a bed, given an IV, asked a lot of questions, etc. and the whole time I'm thinking "why am I in the freaking hall?" No fault of their own, but there is some major lack of communication going on between these nurses. <br /><br />Anyway, I'm checked for dilation and I am already 6cm! Really? My water broke an hour ago and I wasn't dilated AT ALL two days ago? These contractions are coming hard and I'm crying because it wasn't supposed to be like this and I was thinking even if I went into labor on my own, I'd just go straight to the hospital and I'd get wheeled off to the ER for my C-section. NOPE. I ask for the epidural several times. We can't give you the epidural until you're in a room and there are no rooms! Luckily I have this private screen in front of me and tall people can see over it and it's not awkward at all hearing someone labor in the hall as you pass by! I get some kind of pain meds to take the edge off...not really! The nurses keep asking me if I just want to go ahead and have a VBAC because I'm so close. NO THANK YOU I am not trying to push this baby out and I'm not even a candidate b/c she's not completely head down. GET ME A ROOM ALREADY!! Well here we are TWO HOURS LATER. Two long hours that I've been laboring moaning and groaning in the hall no telling how dilated I am now and I finally get a room! Not just any room though. A triage room that's not even prepped for a C-section! Talk about chaos! Nobody knew what was going on! <br /><br />Finally after all the shaking and nausea and tugging and pulling "little" Opal comes out looking just like Mommy (according to my doctor) at 9:19 A.M. so cute and perfect looking like her big brother with her little button nose only chubbier! 9 lbs. 4 oz. of perfection. Was it worth it? of course! Will I do it again? NEVER! Sweet sweet Opal, you'll always be my baby girl!Deanster Marteensterhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09256229214064423902noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8026459660868759880.post-82320532686473444272011-08-19T20:54:00.000-07:002011-08-19T21:07:39.209-07:00Ten Things I Hate About You (OK...twenty)<em>disclaimer: this post is not intended for YOU, nor do I actually hate anyone. It is simply more of a deep annoyance/frustration that I have with myself for not being able to be good at birthing babies and anything of the like.</em>
<br />
<br />1. You are a mom and you're wearing a bikini.
<br />2. You are a mom and you're wearing a bikini and you gave birth two months ago.
<br />3. You don't have stretch marks.
<br />4. You are fully pregnant and you only gained ten pounds.
<br />5. You only gained twenty pounds.
<br />6. You gained less than fifty pounds.
<br />7. You feel great!
<br />8. You walked three miles the day before you gave birth.
<br />9. You actually went jogging before giving birth.
<br />10. You felt good enough during labor to give us a play by play on facebook.
<br />11. You looked good enough after labor to post a picture of you holding your baby on facebook.
<br />12. You had a euphoric natural childbirth.
<br />13. You had a euphoric natural childbirth AT HOME.
<br />14. You pushed your baby out of your vagina with or without drugs.
<br />15. You felt good enough after pushing out your six pound baby that you left the hospital THE NEXT DAY.
<br />16. You wore your pre-pregnancy clothes to your six week check up.
<br />17. You offered me your maternity clothes AFTER I had given birth because you didn't need them anymore.
<br />18. You can't wait to have another baby.
<br />19. Your body was made for this.
<br />20. You tell me that MY body was made for this.
<br /> Deanster Marteensterhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09256229214064423902noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8026459660868759880.post-79262086658265800202011-07-23T16:05:00.001-07:002011-07-23T16:40:25.815-07:0030 weeks 30 poundsTwo and half weeks ago I was thirty weeks pregnant and had already gained thirty pounds. It was my goal not to gain as much weight this pregnancy which technically so far I haven't. I had already maxed out my weight gain when I was pregnant with Cannon at six months!! Well, at least I know this time that a huge portion of that weight gain is my "little" girl. At my regular twenty week ultrasound my doctor referred to her as "huge" because she was already weighing twelve ounces which was significantly larger than the average eight ounce baby at that stage. Who knew a few ounces could make such a big difference? The ultrasound technician also found some extra fluid in her kidneys. So the Dr. wanted me to have another ultrasound at twenty-six weeks. Still a little extra fluid on the kidneys and still a large baby, so they send me to an ultrasound specialist at thirty weeks. I was a little concerned because of course I look up online what it could mean. I am at least glad I will get to see my baby's sweet little face again. So, the kidneys are clear this time, but they found fluid between her brain and spinal cord which sounds a lot scarier to me! They assure me they are just being cautious and want me to come back in two weeks. Also, her weight gain is rapid as she's already weighing four pounds eight ounces at thirty weeks, which is about a pound and a half above average. So, at thirty-two weeks I go back to the ultrasound specialst and there is a definite space between her brain and spinal cord with extra fluid, but the doctor assures me that he is convinced she will be a "normal" baby and he has only ever been wrong once and that was in 1961. ha. He thinks that the extra fluid is due to her rapid weight gain because larger babies have a tendency to produce more fluid. She is weighing in at five pounds thirteen ounces! yikes! That's almost a thirty-six week baby! There is no way to know if she will have developmental delays until she is actually born and growing. BUT to be on the safe side he wants me to have an MRI next month to check things out becuase the ultrasound can only reveal so much information. He already used the word macrosomic which means "large" baby. A baby weighing more than nine pounds 15 ounces! Now, a baby cannot be labeled as macrosomic until birth, but at the rate she is growing she is going to be a whopper! Later that day I spoke to my OB about scheduling a c-section. I couldn't push out Cannon at 7-7 so there's no way I'm trying to push out a nine or ten pounder! Her head circumference was already measuring about thirty-seven weeks! I know that the birth weight can't be predicted precisely, but I'm not taking any chances. At least I have an excuse for this big ol belly of mine. I hate when people ask me my due date and I have to say September 14!!! Their eyes get wide like saucers and the look on their face says, "bless you"!! I already look ready to pop and feel that way, too. This brings me to some controversial pregnancy related topics which I will save for the next time...<a href="http://www.babycenter.com/average-fetal-length-weight-chart"></a>Deanster Marteensterhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09256229214064423902noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8026459660868759880.post-26314917734593861952011-05-04T11:16:00.000-07:002011-05-04T11:23:28.046-07:00Pregnancy Etiquette 1011. DON'T TELL ME HOW BIG I'M GETTING!!!!!!!! ESPECIALLY WHEN I'M ONLY 5 MONTHS PREGNANT!!! "Dang, did you grow overnight?" Really? cuz your belly's bigger than mine and you're not even pregnant!<br /><br />2. I'm not naming my baby "Oprah." <br /><br />3. "You must be having a girl b/c you're carrying WIDE!!!!" I should just wear a sign that says, "WIDE LOAD" I guess.Deanster Marteensterhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09256229214064423902noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8026459660868759880.post-50687729543130627652011-03-08T09:28:00.000-08:002011-03-08T09:44:56.256-08:00Church in the Nizow<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgumKEKULwYZp8wQHcucykqn5A3AoSbURJGb4bifkXCEwhwbvvph72zwDZreF-b90SCDe61vs-EHx6ewzivbiNInnYz8bLWruyzRzNOWzVeAvKlhT3ERB6u2bLSGqtKaxHjdJQ_KNgeoUQ/s1600/untitled.bmp"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 275px; height: 183px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgumKEKULwYZp8wQHcucykqn5A3AoSbURJGb4bifkXCEwhwbvvph72zwDZreF-b90SCDe61vs-EHx6ewzivbiNInnYz8bLWruyzRzNOWzVeAvKlhT3ERB6u2bLSGqtKaxHjdJQ_KNgeoUQ/s400/untitled.bmp" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5581765570245875362" /></a><br />I recalled a memory from when I was pregnant with Cannon as I passed a familiar church yesterday. Chris and I stopped at this church over a year ago for a parking lot yardsale. It's one of those semi-new fangled church buildings that only partially resembles a church. I think I ended up buying a little golden book for Cannon, "Mickey's Christmas Carol" for twenty-five cents. While we were there, there were parking lot attendants handing out promotional literature. As we were leaving this one guy asked us if we "go here." Like "Do you go to church here?" Chris and I exchanged the same look and then politely replied no while smiling and accepting their flyer. We waited til we got in the car to make the same comment that if a person doesn't even know if they attend the same church as us then it must be a pretty big ol church--too big to not only not remember a name, but not even a face. I often hear people talk about hospitals or other companies that they like because they are a name not just a number. So, if it's not okay to be just a number when it comes to healthcare or finances, why is it okay to just be a faceless body in the crowd at what should be a very personal experience of fellowship and community? <br /><br />I'm reminded of another church called "Church in the NOW" that sits ever so gaudily just off I-20 East. It's purple and yellow and conveniently displays the temperature and time on a scrolling marquee. I don't know about you, but that is the FIRST thing I look for when I'm going to church. Thank God they have the temperature here in both Farenheit and Celcius! Praise Jesus!Deanster Marteensterhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09256229214064423902noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8026459660868759880.post-17541387832211176472011-01-03T17:39:00.000-08:002011-01-03T17:53:37.402-08:00The Dirty 30<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYZAbV9ny2X6sQbeG-U1gUoZDj0doa4k-P62YOd3d3KA8IILBQZ-U6kEW4JRzfNza_FBF-jQsx75LclUcalCD-CcUbK0rER7L5xmakcwPNRjFQhyqGmzuQuF6yIVho3YoS4JIQinlhu68/s1600/164774_176859195679431_100000660542747_450568_22022_n.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 298px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYZAbV9ny2X6sQbeG-U1gUoZDj0doa4k-P62YOd3d3KA8IILBQZ-U6kEW4JRzfNza_FBF-jQsx75LclUcalCD-CcUbK0rER7L5xmakcwPNRjFQhyqGmzuQuF6yIVho3YoS4JIQinlhu68/s400/164774_176859195679431_100000660542747_450568_22022_n.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5558142979513594194" /></a><br />When I was probably say 28 I thought it might be a good idea to make a list. I'd heard of them before. "30 things to do before I'm 30." Well, now I think that's silly. Why do we focus on numbers so much? I've never been good at setting goals and making lists. I'm more of a "fly by the seat of my pants kinda gal." (That's from Pretty Woman:) So instead of making a list of things I need to cross off and do before I'm 30, which will be here ever so shortly, maybe I'll just make more of a committment to live in the moment, not take life for granted, spend more time outdoors, try not to stress about the small stuff, kiss my baby, and just be happier this "year" than I was the year before that. Maybe I'm just copping out b/c I never got around to my list! Whatev....I'll be OK and I'll still be 30 with or without my list and life will go on. 30 is the new 20 right? ha. And what difference does it really make if I do something when I'm 35 or when I'm 29? I'll still have the memories.Deanster Marteensterhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09256229214064423902noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8026459660868759880.post-74791558640479858652010-12-13T07:14:00.000-08:002010-12-13T07:19:07.074-08:00Let It Snow.It's snowing. A rarity here in GA. It's well below freezing. And though it's a Monday and I should be working, Cannon and I are in our pajamas watching it snow and watching The Muppets Christmas Carol here and there. I made a big ol pot of cheesy buttery grits for breakfast and Cannon sucked them down as he usually does. It's too cold to go outside and Cannon thinks he's too big to snuggle apparently. He's got places to go and things to do. Though today is not officially a "snow day" I've declared it my snow day. A day to spend with my baby who is quickly approaching non-baby status here in a few weeks. These days are few and far between that I get to spend all day with my little boy listening to his squeals and squeaks, singing, babbling, and laughing. I simply wish every day was a snow day.Deanster Marteensterhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09256229214064423902noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8026459660868759880.post-9620155076258655452010-11-12T11:24:00.001-08:002010-11-12T11:40:15.576-08:00OPK<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUToNBjz7Q2_D43EV-6tqwrd2qGYH412Bu5JD3nF6VPu00MEDGmxptBFyaL__IYyoEO7gLJYP_h_9N4rf1PzSFlzsIdItGwVqOADVhQ6NNEkz_Xe4QlwdV_CcQwIaslpZfmgBQKpsHA5g/s1600/WizardLionClose.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 328px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUToNBjz7Q2_D43EV-6tqwrd2qGYH412Bu5JD3nF6VPu00MEDGmxptBFyaL__IYyoEO7gLJYP_h_9N4rf1PzSFlzsIdItGwVqOADVhQ6NNEkz_Xe4QlwdV_CcQwIaslpZfmgBQKpsHA5g/s400/WizardLionClose.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5538749825696463042" /></a><br />This is a little acronym I use at work when I'm a little on the frustrated side. Other People's Kids. Other People's Kids are not my own. There are a handful that I wouldn't mind taking home with me, but for the most part I just want their parents to come get them. Now, I've only been a parent for going on 11 months, but I've been dealing with OPK from a "professional" stand point for a little more than 6 years now. I've recently taken on the task of first grade OPKs. They are super cute and sweet and they love you and want to hug you. A little one was all over me the other day and then started rubbing my belly and proceeded to ask me if I had a "baby in my belly." No....I already had my baby, but thanks for asking! Really shot down my self esteem after squeezing into and buttoning my pre-pregnancy pants earlier that day. But hey, Kids say the darndest things...So, I'm reading with this "small group" of six year olds and after we've learned some new words and written the words and spelled the words and read the words some more, I ask them if they know what it means to study. ??? some blank looks. I'm like you know when you go home and practice what you've learned that day and you read books, etc. After some deep thought one kid responds. "I ride my bike." "Oh yeah, and I have a skateboard." Great news!! We had read a book titled "Tigers, Tigers" and every time this one little boy saw it he said, "Lions, Lions!" What letter does it start with I'd ask. T! he'd proudly say. What sound does T make? t-t-T! What's the word? Lions! God bless him.Deanster Marteensterhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09256229214064423902noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8026459660868759880.post-1407747489955723952010-10-08T09:15:00.000-07:002010-10-25T11:08:50.677-07:00The Full Time MomI've heard it alot. What do you do for a living? I stay at home with my kids. I'm a full-time mom! I hate that term. It suggests that the working mother is not a full-time mom, but merely a part-time mom? That's absurd. I have two jobs. One, where I take care of OPK, all the while wishing i was at home taking care of my own, and two a FULL-TIME mother! I think the two groups: working outside the home moms and stay at home moms probably have some strong opinions of each other. <br /><br />Who would give up their "career"?(I use the term loosely because I don't consider myself to have a career. I have a job. I don't care to be a big dog or climb to the top of the ladder.) And what's a career worth in the end when you've missed so many precious moments with your babies? Technically, I only work about 36 weeks out of the year. It's what gets me through the work week...looking forward to the next break/holiday. <br /><br />Not everyone has the chance to opt out of their "career." Some of us don't have that luxury. I'm still working on a way that I can work from home. Maybe if I work on my blogging skills I could make money that way! <br /><br />I think i have it made alot better than alot of moms out there who have to leave their babies everyday and go to work at God-awful hours. I leave my house at 6:30 and am home at 3:30. That's nine hours away from my baby! Most moms probably don't get home until 5 or 6! That means they hardly see their children!<br /><br />I've looked into some MOM groups online, looking for other working moms. Well, the MOM groups of working mothers are few and far between. MOM groups meet at like 9:30 AM. Well, I'm at work at that time. I've looked for baby/Mommy exercise groups. Guess what? They get together around 9, too! <br /><br />With so many working mothers nowadays, wouldn't it make sense to have some groups available to that population? Maybe I'll start one! You know what else would make sense? On campus daycare! Then I could sneak in on my lunch break and hold and snuggle my baby! And give up breast pumping standing up in the bathroom:( I feel the need to start a movement! Mothers unite! <br /><br />I am thankful for my blessings. I am thankful that Cannon has his daddy at home with him. And I am thankful for the afternoons and weekends that I cherish with my baby. I am however waiting patiently for the tables to turn in my favor:) I am just a tad bit jealous of all the SAHMs and SAHDs out there. It's a hard job, I know. But I'd trade places anyday of the week. Especially days like to day when the OPKs are working my nerves!Deanster Marteensterhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09256229214064423902noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8026459660868759880.post-25211937770144676402010-09-17T10:33:00.000-07:002010-09-17T11:35:07.970-07:00Seems like only yesterday....Cannon is almost nine months old. Good grief. Stop growing so fast little boy! Though it's been 3/4 of a year already...we've seen winter, spring, and summer....it seems like only yesterday that my baby boy was born. And I still get teary thinking about it. He amazes me everyday. I often say to Chris, "Can you believe he's ours?" "Can you believe he was inside of me this time last year?" The miracle of birth baffles me. So, when people use the term "miracle baby" I want to pipe up and proclaim that ALL babies are miracle babies. Yes, some of them have had rougher starts than others, but the "miracle of life" is called that for good reason. <br /><br />A year is really such a short amount of time. I can recall very easily what was going on around this time last year. A flood for one! Other good friends giving birth. It bothers me when people say things like, "Oh, he's getting so big. He won't be a baby much longer." So people go to the extreme to tell me he's not a baby anymore right now! If he's not a baby, then what is he? He can't even walk or talk. I guess the actual birth of my baby is old news to most people, but it's not old news to me! I haven't even recovered 100%! My scar is still pink and sometimes tender to the touch not to mention the ten extra pounds I'm still carrying around (most of which is probably the weight of milk). People want to hear about things exciting and new. It still feels new to me. I haven't even finished thank you notes or sent out birth announcements yet! That's bad I know! Sorry Emily Post! But like I said it feels so recent to me. <br /><br />And why don't people get as excited about the second baby as the first. Why do people react with "Wow, pregnant again so soon?" When the whole time the first baby was just a baby they were asking, "So, when's the next one coming?" I'm convinced people just want something to talk about. That's why the baby business and the wedding business will never go out of business. P.S. I'm not pregnant!<br /><br />So, this blog may have turned into a blahg..... But Fall is getting close and I have the whole week off!!!! to spend with my BABY boy!Deanster Marteensterhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09256229214064423902noreply@blogger.com0