If pregnancy were a book...

“If pregnancy were a book, they would cut the last two chapters." - Nora Ephron

These days, I'm just lucky to find a shirt that fits before it's time to leave in the morning. There are multiple phases in pregnancy, and the glowy, magical, isn't-this-wonderful stage passed a while ago.  Now I'm in the my-body-feels-like-an-alien phase. I don't hate pregnancy, but the end is uncomfortable, tiring, and I believe I'm going to be asked every day by a colleague when I'm due. They think it's tomorrow.

I'm nearly 34 weeks (Etsy t-shirt find)

I do like that the days are getting longer, randomly warmer, and I spied a little green thing peeking out of the mulch today.

Ugh, the mulch!? Do I need to start thinking about doing yard work already? This worries me. Edie told me there's a river in our backyard, and unfortunately she's right. There's a long, thin pool of where a dead tree was felled, and it needs to be filled with dirt and covered in grass seed. This project feels out of my scope. Today my boss suggested hiring a landscaper to do a spring cleaning, and I embraced this idea wholeheartedly. I need to call my friend Jeff who has a landscaping company. STAT!

About all the yard I can handle (yet another Etsy gem)

I've finally got my hands on our shared Kindle. I first read The Fault in Our Stars, and finished in record time. Now I've got Gone Girl for book club. I am a library enthusiast, but with a Kindle I can have a book in the flick of a wrist, and that is amazingly efficient. I'm all for efficiency, and Amazon makes it way too easy to spend money. Also, I never said I was an early adopter (see Kindle, Gone Girl, The Fault in Our Stars).

Sweet ballet doll (you guessed it- Etsy!)

Tonight we went to a fundraiser at my mom's school for the annual musical, which she produces. The show is "Annie", and we're bringing Edie in a couple weeks. Edie's more of a ballet enthusiast than musical aficionado. She asked me to turn off Manu Chao during dinner the other night and put on "ballet". So I found a classical radio station and she was very into it. She wanted to see ballet dancers on t.v. while I tried to explain we just listen, not watch. I tried to find a ballet class for her, but they start at ages three and up. Who would've thought I'd have a ballerina on my hands? The Nutcracker set her passion on fire.

Everything's gonna be allright

I'm officially 8 months pregnant now and counting down the days.

Although time seems to creep along during the uncomfortable, unsleepable third trimester, lately days are going by fast because we are all so busy. But our collective stress level is sky high. I recognize I'm not my best self right now to those who live with me. We are both working a lot, and working hard. There seems to be little availability of time, patience, and understanding at the end of these intense days.

At work, I'm training the temp who will take over my role while I'm on maternity leave. We have another six weeks of training, and if I do a good job, I'll be able to transfer some of my responsibilities to her while I'm still there. All is going well, as she seems capable and good-natured, but teaching the nuances of my job for the better part of the day, while also making sure all of the work gets done, is exhausting.

Around Christmas, I took on some freelance work for a local planning firm, doing the kind of design and marketing that I love. They're a good client, and have been offering additional projects. On top of that, I've been helping a friend revamp her non-profit's logo in exchange for some free publicity for my t-shirt company. Which reminds me, I need to get my new website developed, and launched since I'm trying to generate publicity! What is wrong with me?? I just can't. say. no.

Dave is going full-force at his job, pursuing leadership and extracurricular opportunities on top of his daily teaching duties. He's writing papers and studying on the weekends for his sixth-year degree, and interning with the high school administration here in town in his, ahem, free time.

Edie's been busy with her own project: potty training! We made decent progress when Grammy was here a couple weeks ago. Grammy and Edie spent a lot of time at home, with constant one-on-one attention. When Edie returned to day care, she'd sit on the potty but never peed. I felt that her diaper was a safety net (literally), and she regressed because she wasn't 100% comfortable outside of home. So last weekend, we pushed the potty hard, complete with undies, stickers, applause, and pull-ups only at bed- and naptime. We had a few accidents but it was largely successful, so on Monday I sent her to school in undies (and an open diaper in the seat of her $250 car seat - no peeing in there, girl!) We've had mixed results, but keep moving forward, and the diapers are only for bed time now. I would LOVE to have her fully trained within the next couple weeks. I hear kids can regress when a new baby arrives and they see parents' changing the babe's diapers. Guess we'll find out soon!

Anyway, it was great having Dave's mom visit, and she got her fill of Edie (the intent of her trip). They played with dolls, baked cookies, and visited the library together. Having a built-in Grammy/nanny was awesome for us too. Who doesn't appreciate someone doing your dinner dishes while you put the girl to bed, or a free sitter to make a Max Burger date reality?

We also had a visit from the Edmands family recently. I got to do a trial run of having an infant and a toddler by babysitting Shane. He is just the cutest little peanut, so mellow. Edie kept saying, "I think he wants his pacifier on" even though he wasn't fussy, and we kept everything under relative control for a couple hours.

Lastly, I found a good blog, CT Working Moms, that I refer to when my intense schedule and responsibilities get me down. Of course my mom, and Dave's mom, and lots of moms have balanced it all before, but I like reading about it in real time, and knowing I'm not in this boat alone.

Now if I could just wrap up some of these side projects...

Snow Blitz!

Blog Anniversary! This is the 200th post on Chez Moni. How's that for commitment?

Winter Storm Nemo fell upon CT with a furious pace, dumping about 40" of snow in one day. I haven't seen snow like this in a looong time. Snow always feels special to me, but this was on another level.

As usual, we packed our bags and drove to my parents' house once a couple inches accumulated. We do this before every major storm, and it's not like we need to evacuate at all. We have a perfectly good home that we pay a lot of money to live in, complete with heat, light, food, booze, flashlights, and wifi. It just feels more fun camp out with other people [who have generators]. Besides, my sister, Jeff and Colette were at my parents and I'd be damned if they all hung out while we were snowed in three miles away.

Actually, last weekend we were planning to go on a "ski" weekend in Vermont with the Rigbys and Edmands families (in quotes because most of us preggos/moms of small children/non-skiiers were not technically going to strap on boots or ride a chair lift. But we were planning on embracing the apres ski part of it, while being geographically close to a mountain). Our travel plans were mostly intact until Thursday, when we realized that work schedules and the severity of the storm weren't going to play nice. We sadly had to bail on our VT weekend. No hot cocoa, sledding, cookie cakes, or crafting sessions for us. Isn't it ironic that a snowstorm cancels a trip to the mountains?

We got to spend time with the usual suspects, eating our way through the weekend. Ashley provided a high-fallutin' charcuterie platter Friday night, and Belgian waffles the next morning, with choice of fruit, whipped cream, and maple syrup ("snowflake waffles" for the kiddos). Dave, Jeff, and my dad spent about 5 hours shoveling Saturday morning. My dad made a snow cave for Edie and Colette, but we were reluctant to put the girls in an igloo under 3 feet of snow (sorry, Dad!). My mom, Kitty and I put on our "snow clothes" (Dave's words), and went on an ambitious walk in the streets, as the sidewalks were nowhere to be found. After that excursion, you better believe I took a monster nap in my parents' basement. It was so dark and cozy, I was in my own little snow cave.

Once the driving ban was lifted in the afternoon, Dave went home to excavate our house. Whoa. He shoveled another couple hours, joining our neighbors in a shoveling party. He says everyone pitched in and helped, then shared cold beer and warm cookies afterwards. I love our neighborhood for exactly this reason, and it made me kind of wish we'd been here for the weekend.

Oh well! We were busy watching 'Silver Linings Playbook' and eating Elmwood Pastry with my family. My sister and I are in our 30s, and all we have to do is suggest to my Dad that a dozen donuts and some bear claws from our town's donut institution (and my former employer!) would be yummy. He returns with half the store, all in white cardboard boxes. Powered sugar and glaze was everywhere, and as the sun rose over the snowy hills, I felt truly blessed.

Lastly, we adopted another cat. Her name is Frankie Valentine. I've always liked the name Francesca, although we're so not Italian, we couldn't get away with naming a kid that. And Valentine because on the day we got her, we made Valentines. Plus, Frankie sounds kinda boyish. She looks a lot like Catsby, but is actually more cuddly and less athletic. If there is a lap nearby, she's sitting on it. And so far, she is not going outside.

Mama's orders.

Here one day, gone the next

We have sad news. Catsby got hit by a car in front of our house yesterday and died. There is no softer way to say it.

Dave called when I was at Target with Edie to tell me. It was so strange to hear while standing in between the toys and the bib aisle. I had just browsed the pet aisle to see if they had any decent cat bowls.

There was no saving her, and the person who hit her didn't stop. One moment she was alive, playing in the neighbor's yard, bolted across our residential street at the wrong time, and met her fate. A few of our neighbors were incredibly kind and helpful at the distraught scene. Dave was going to figure out what to do with her, either bury her or bring her to the vet's office for cremation. It was my duty to tell Edie. I told her in the Target check-out line, which felt so cheap, but it didn't feel right to keep it from her either. I talked to her about it again once we were home, and she asked for her cat.

I told her that Catsby got in an accident and was gone, we weren't going to see her anymore, and she went in cat heaven. I said she could still dream of Catsby though. Edie just asked me "Why?" with a concerned look in her eye, but she didn't cry. So a two year old doesn't fully grasp the concept of death. Do any of us?

Ugh. Losing a pet sucks, and I think only pet lovers truly understand. Catsby was a newer addition to our lives. I don't think we'd even reached our one-year anniversary as her owners, but Dave and I adopted her as a gift for Edie, and she was a great pet. I've mentioned how much Edie fawned over her little buddy. She was humane, and loving, and recently started feeding Catsby with just a little bit of help. Every time Dave or I got Edie up from a nap, we asked what she dreamed about. She always says, "Catsby". I don't want to ask her that for a while.

Pet-adoption authorities highly advocate for keeping cats indoors. They drive the adoption conversation like this: "Your cat will stay indoors, right?" Dave and I even fielded some dirty looks from our neighbors' visiting mother who was obviously judging our decision to let Catsby outside. We both had happy outdoor cats when we were kids, and frankly, they seem less squirrelly, more fit, and less likely to claw the guts out of your furniture than their indoor brethren. Furthermore, Catsby loved going outside and who were we to stop her?

Of course, now I feel bad that we let her out. Although outdoor cats generally live shorter (more exciting) lives, I didn't think it'd be that short. Two years? Whatever happened to nine lives and all that?

I want to adopt another cat. Owning an animal taught Edie about the world, and I like the way she felt on my lap while watching t.v. Next time though, we might keep our little friend inside. We'll see.

Jelly's last jam

WHEW.

That's me sighing relief as we move on from December. Don't mistake me, I love the holidays, the family, the socialization, and the ample amounts of food. But I get tired of the holidays, the socialization, and the ample amounts of food. Our families are wonderful, but I also love down time, which is nary to be found in December. And something was missing in my champagne glass this year!

Celebrating Christmas with our girl is starting to get really fun. Her interactions with the world, and ability to talk about them, are amazing. I'm biased and have little comparison, but she's pretty bright and can articulate herself well for a toddler. This is no revelation, but having a kid who is amped about the holiday breathes new life into it, and makes Christmas morning magic in a way that I haven't felt since I was in elementary school.

After celebrating in Connecticut, we traveled to Seattle to spend time with Dave's family and our friends. Just like it used to be when we traveled from there to here, it was a whirlwind week. There are lots of people and places to pack in, and it never seems like you got enough time with any of them. Dave and I visited Lighthouse Coffee, Rancho Bravo, Peak Park (where we got engaged), Prost, my old office, AND did a drive-by of nearly every place we lived since 2006. Dave's favorite sight-seeing remark: "That didn't use to be here". In Seattle, where construction is alive and kicking, you can say that about many former vacant lots and underperforming storefronts.

Considering cross country travel at Christmas with a 2.5 year old while fairly pregnant? Let me tell you a secret: it is a shit-ton of work. And it ain't very comfortable. Oh what? That isn't a secret? Our outbound flight was trecherous (delayed two hours, she cried for half of the country), but we learned some lessons for the way home (made sure she had ample sleep before take-off and mommy's little helper, aka Children's Benadryl). I personally don't mind flying, but the dreaded 5-hour return flight hung over my head like expired egg nog while on the West Coast.

Oh well, I know Dave's family needed some Edie time, which they got! And I had some downtime with built-in childcare, so I read, ran, and worked out (Pocket Yoga app, anyone?) to my heart's content. Do these sound like small luxuries? Because they are.

I may be done running for now. I walked fast on an incline on the treadmill today, and that felt great. I didn't want to go faster, and perhaps my Seattle running excursions were jelly's last jam....for now.

Can I observe how different the second-time pregnancy is than the first? Gone are the days of poring over pregnancy books, hanging on every word. I glance at my weekly Babycenter updates (Cool, my baby's the size of an ear of corn), and generally consider monthly MD appointments a nuisance (they check your weight, blood pressure, pee chemistry, and - this is fun - the baby's heartbeat). I realize these are mostly preventative, and an uncomplicated pregnancy is nothing to sneeze at, but I'd like to just phone it in rather than drive cross-town for these mundane check-ins.

I am happy it's January because we can get back to regular life, but January? Really, you are one of my least favorite months, all dark and cold.

Now with more nog

A month since my last blog post? Ah life, you son of a bitch. You got in my way of blogging.

We've been transitioning into Christmas mode around here, buying and decorating a tree, hanging garland 'round the mantle and colored lights on our front fence, and reading -nay, singing - Jingle Bells (the book) to Edie. She is really getting into the spirit, and when she sees Christmas lights around the neighborhood, she shouts, "Christmas!" followed by, "I want to see monsters". (Apparently she's still hanging on to the Halloween spirit as well.)

I am now five months pregnant, which is going pretty well. It is safe to say I've adopted maternity pants and elastic-waist skirts, but I still try to look cute for work in blazers, pins, scarfs, and whatnot. I really want to wear yoga pants to the office, but I believe that's frowned upon. I unearthed my former maternity wardrobe, and can only hope that the hormones impacted my fashion judgement during the third trimester. Has fashion really changed that much since 2010? I vow to never wear some of that stuff again.

Pregnant ladies do get a wardrobe pass, however. No one is gonna talk smack if I wear the same skirt twice in one week. If they do, I place a curse on their firstborn.

Speaking of which, have you ever read traditional folktales to your kids? This includes Rumpelstiltskin, Hansel and Gretel, Three Little Pigs, and Rapunzel. My mom has "Three Minute Bedtime Stories" at their house, and I read it to Edie. I was aghast at all the child-snatching, fang-toothed wolves, and lonely cursed lives under the shade of the forest. Furthermore, most villains die gruesome deaths by way of boiling pots of water or being pushed into ovens. Those are some messed up stories, and I'm much happier reading stuff like "I'm Dirty" or "The Little Mouse, the Red Ripe Strawberry and the Big Hungry Bear". Children's lit has come a long way since 1812.

Edie and I took a road trip to Waltham this weekend for the Edmands' annual Christmas party. (Unfortunately, Dave couldn't join us because he is finishing a final paper.) We got there in 1.5 hours (a personal record, thanks Speed Pass). Michelle had set up a kids' craft table and a spread of holiday food and drink.

The party has been going on for about 10 years now, and it has evolved to accommodate all the families with kiddos. Although we still socialize and have fun, they rule the early evening. Once they tucker out, we drink wine and faux beer, gossip, and eat the most delicious apple dumplings ever! I fell asleep at 10:30. I'm a real party animal, rarr!

We are looking forward to spending our first Christmas in our home, especially now that Edie is excited. She doesn't know enough to ask for presents yet, but she did fancy some Disney Princess sparkly, light-up sneakers at Marshall's yesterday. I tried to get her excited about a pair of gender neutral blue Osh Kosh shoes, but she was not interested at all. She kept saying, "How about these ones?" to the sparkles, and I wondered, Is this when I start bowing to her 2-year old tastes? Luckily, she wanted her own shoes back on, so I dodged that bullet. At least for this week.

Yoga, run, repeat

You all know I've got a thing for working out. A good workout can clear my head, take me on foot to roads and paths I'd never see otherwise, and it's a damn good way to break up the day. I love feeling sore the day after a good workout. It's like I've woken up muscles I didn't even know I had.

Running is getting harder to squeeze in with our schedules and the sun's early departure. However, in addition to some pocket-size cardio sessions at the company gym, I've been hitting up two local yoga studios for my workouts du jour.

I've embraced yoga on and off over the years. I first encountered sun salutations while at a high school arts program at Bennington College in VT. The instructor was a willowy blonde named Willa, and she also served as the art department's nude model. She was a few years older than us, and I thought she was pretty artsy-cool. I then went on to explore yoga in a sweaty basement of UConn (with 150 other co-eds: next!), power yoga at Gold's Gym in Boston (hard core workout), and a prenatal class in Seattle (love you, Yoga Mama!)

I tagged along with a co-worker to the lunchtime class at Downtown Yoga a few months ago and have been going once or twice a week since. The studio isn't any great shakes, although it's nicely perched atop charismatic Pratt Street, with old school floor-to-ceiling windows (read: cold in winter, sweltering in summer). I found a teacher there whom I really like. Her class was gentle yoga, or as I like to call it, Granny yoga. It's more of a massage than a workout, but I don't care, it feels awesome (especially while training for the Hartford Marathon relay - do you know how tight runners get?) She was so calming and gentle, I basically melted into the floor by the the time we did Savasana. As with all teacher-student relationships, some teachers just speak to you.

You can imagine my disappointment when she was scrapped from the schedule without warning. Apparently there was some very un-yogi fall out between her and the owner. Her noon slot was switched to YogaFlow, which was an unexpected sweat fest that made me long for a towel, personal fan, and hair elastic. Part of the reason I like mid-day yoga is because I can de-stress without returning to the office with beads of sweat on my brow.

Fortunately, I've found another couple teachers there that I like. One swears that yoga and music go together "like chocolate and peanut butter", and we rock out to some decent tunes while we go through our vinyasa. We recently did a workout to a mix I swear I created in 11th grade. It was a lovely walk down Tori Amos/Sarah McLachlan/Rusted Root lane.

Well my favorite teacher now subs at West Hartford Yoga (aka WHY), where they also host a pre-natal class (yep, I qualify!) I bought a monthlong trial pass, and have not gone as much as I'd like, but still. I like that they have classes later at night. I went to one class that focused on meditation and began with some low humming, taught by an middle-age hippie spririt named Shankara. Do you think that's his birth name?

I want to get my mom into yoga, and I mentioned bringing her to a WHY class soon. We Leonard ladies are a high-strung, adrenaline-seeking, type-A bunch. The focused breathing and mindfulness of yoga is something I really have to concentrate on, but it is so damn rejuvenating. We could all use the mental and physical unwind that yoga provides. And have you seen any yoga teachers' bodies lately? They are pretty much ripped. I'm trying to get my arm muscles back via chaturangas.