A Tale of Two Mommies

…because more seems excessive…

Tag Archives: fetal movements

The Young and the Restless

I know my daughter will be a fighter.  My son was active from sixteen weeks, but it wasn’t until the end of my pregnancy when I could occasionally feel his movement from the outside.  The Warrior Queen is another matter.  Certainly now at twenty-five weeks, but even earlier I could feel pronounced pokes and jabs with surprising frequency.  Part of me loves this about her because she will need all the strength she can muster in a life as society’s lesser gender.

It pleases me greatly she is practicing her power in her small, growing ways.  I don’t know if she will be a leader or willful, but I am offered some peace of mind that she has hope of continued tenacity through her life if I nurture it.  But, while a deep place within me admires that her very nature is to be heard, my bladder wishes she’d take a day off now and again.  Not only do I jump several times a day at repeated sharp kicks or punches to internal spaces I was not aware were sensitive, but my daughter pays specific preference to the same location on my bladder that will have me wetting myself in no more than a month’s time.  I’ve been toying with the idea of buying adult diapers because that feels less embarrassing than waking my husband in the middle of the night to change the sheets or sporting an impressive urine spot on my pants that I can’t convincingly blame on a family pet.  No matter how I spin it there seems to be no graceful way to execute something like that as though it were high culture.

It occurred to me today as I broke into a heart palpitating sweat attempting to change my son into pants this morning; strength and character is all well and good, but if my daughter ever decides similarly that she prefers to go without leg coverings, I’m in serious trouble.

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Resolutions Resolve

I can’t remember the last time I was up until midnight, and last night was no exception.  My husband and I managed to accidentally stay awake until almost ten.  I think we both planned on passing out by eight-thirty tops, but it just didn’t work out that way.  Little Man also went to bed on the later side of his usual time, too excited with anticipation of the next year that hopefully won’t bring about a Trump or Cruz president…after all, I thought the Aztec Armageddon prediction already passed…Sorry, my liberal politics are showing, and that is not how I want to discuss my festivities…I don’t have antacids handy…

Since my husband and I were long asleep by the stroke of the New Year, I’m celebrating the change this morning.  I christened our new toaster oven, curtsey of a very speedy Amazon delivery yesterday.  But, I would like to take a moment to pay tribute to our old appliance, as it mustered a good fight up until the very end.  True, the bottom heating coils ceased working consistently some time ago, but there were spurts of efficacy triggered by snack machine whacks and shaking, which I will always appreciate.  We had a good run, but the New Year brings about new adventures and new friends.

This morning’s breakfast was a compilation of meager leftover ingredients because we desperately need to go to the store.  I opted to go full out crazy and deviate from my standard egg and cheese breakfast sandwich, resulting in a, “Meh,” but nothing ventured, nothing gained, right?

I’m starting the New Year toasting the remnants of my cold that wants to keep the fight alive with my last bag of vanilla decaffeinated tea.  In the coming year I do not believe I will be restocking this particular flavor.  It’s good enough, but this year I hope to strive for more from life than mediocrity with my beverages.  In that same vein I hope to take a similar aggressive stance with my meals.  I will not be repeating that breakfast sandwich combination.

Clearly, however, such blasé ambitions for this latest calendar transaction did not pass to my son.  He decided to change it up and have three of his friends join him in his crib all night.  Usually he kicks everyone out just before his final settle like a last call bartender.  But, last night was for celebrating, so during this morning’s wake-up call, I was greeted with three stuffed animals littered in his crib with an anxious little man eager to send everyone home.  I think he was embarrassed because his hardy partying yielded an exceptional leak through all of his garments.  I must continue to thank him throughout the day because all New Years should begin with a full load of laundry.

My daughter decided to greet me in bed first thing this morning with active festivities in my belly.  I’m not sure what limbs were wailing on my internal structures, but I could feel her for the first time on the outside.  I guess she wanted a memorable transition because it was only two days ago she wasn’t quite strong enough for such an effect.  I bet she could take-on Trump or Cruz…

So, Happy New Year to all of my readers.  I don’t make resolutions per se, but I look forward to another year of change, ebbs, and flows.  May you all receive the serendipitous surprise of the unexpected; sometimes it’s better than what we hope for.

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