As I mentioned before (even earlier in my pregnancy than this ridiculously early post), if Sandy ends up belonging to the hot dog half of the hamburger-hot dog population, we’ve already got a name picked out. It’s an awesome, cool, unusual, non-yet-overused, legitimately-from-my-immediate-family-not-a-third-cousin-twice-removed-in-law name.

But y’all, as much as I am TOTALLY COMPLETELY 100% IN LOVE with this name, I am skeered. Skeered people are going to think I’m a crazy person, skeered it’s a totally stupid thing to name a baby, skeered that the internet is going to mock me. I can’t even bring myself to put the name out there – not here on the blog, not on the baby message boards, not to anyone besides my parents and E’s parents and one friend I knew would understand. E actually told a few relatives a while back while I made desperate cringing “no don’t say it don’t say it DON’T” faces behind their backs. Then I ran away before anyone could react so I don’t know what they thought. I just can’t stand the thought of someone saying “Oh. Really? Are you sure?” to a name that I’ve got my heart set on.

I have no idea why this is bothering me so much. I do not live in an area where everyone calls their babies Bob or Mike or Jacob. I know Lucien, Calvin, Tristan, Reid, Brody and Gideon, all of which I would put in the same category as the name I want to use. And now that I’ve heard them 10, 20, 500 times none of those names seem even a tiny bit strange. They aren’t even “baby names” anymore – they’re just people I know, although admittedly tiny, drooling, crap-their-pants people.

My name isn’t even unheard of. I sent a totally crazy stalker Twitter direct message to a blogger who happened to mention her nephew was named my very special secret name. (I may have scared her with my craziness and/or questions.) I also freaked out when I saw MY name on a list of unusual names that are gaining popularity – and according to a few websites it’s now in the top 200 most common. I promise it’s not Heahstan or Cenwig or Kinkson or Syre or anything else from the Baby’s Named a Bad, Bad Thing collection (WARNING: That link is a giant time suck. HUGE. DO NOT CLICK unless you have several hours to waste.) I promise I’m not really a crazy person. I promise even my own mother thinks it’s a fantastic name.

I also promise to stop talking about it now until I know for sure if we even GET to use it. Because the more I stress now, the more likely this baby will end up being a girl anyways. So it won’t even matter.

And for the record, if you’re DYING to know what the name is, send me an email or a Twitter DM or something. It’s not a secret, I’m just SKEERED.

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Minor housekeeping note: I finally broke down and joined the Top Baby Blogs list almost all my internet friends are members of. Unfortunately, you need like a quadrillion votes to show up in the top 100 so I’m going to be doing a little begging self-promotion. No registration or anything required: just click on the banner below and then click on the big icon in the middle of the screen. You won’t see my button until I make it to the front page (AHAHAHAHAHAHhahahahah!! Ha.) but rest assured you made my day just by voting!

Back in April when I finally decided to switch to cloth diapers I was SO EXCITED, partly because I knew it was the eco-friendly, responsible choice…but also a little because I was finally going to be part of the cool kid’s diaper club, where everyone knew what AIO and AI2 and pre-fold and PUL and insert and pocket meant. I thought maybe someone would even teach me the secret handshake.

Turns out the handshake is just my EW EW EW EW EW! reaction to getting poop on myself AGAIN and I still don’t know what all the abbreviations mean. Luckily, it turns out you don’t have to know all that stuff to use cloth diapers, especially if you’re like us and still haven’t switched full time. It’s not an all-or-nothing experience and every cloth diaper I use is one less disposable in a landfill – and one more adorable fluffy butt I get to squeeze.

Our experience so far:

The good:
– The Katydids are my favorites by far, both because they’re super easy to use and because they’ve never leaked. I stopped using both inserts all the time and they still hold a whole morning full of pee. I also love that they’re easy to carry with me in my (admittedly huge) diaper bag – just once piece & easy to stuff in the wet bag.
– I also really like the one Happy Heiny and one Swaddlebee diaper we have. I’ve quickly learned that pocket diapers or all-in-ones are my favorite and would switch to them full time if I had a budget that allowed me to stock up.
– E has figured out how all our diapers work and will voluntarily put them on Baby Evan as long as they’re stuffed, stacked and available next to the changing table. Most of the time.
– My biggest fear – the WASHING – has been easy-peasy. I use Charlie’s Soap for the diapers and All Free & Clear for the rest of our laundry and haven’t had any trouble with build-up. I also really love hanging my diapers out on the clothes line. Which I know makes me a weirdo.

The bad
-We can’t bring ourselves to give up the disposables at night or when we travel. For a while Baby Evan was doing all his pooping at night, which made a disposable just too tempting. Now it’s just because I know he won’t wake up at 2 am screaming for a diaper change because he’s wet. We also used disposables this weekend when Baby Evan’s teething/new foods diaper rash got out of control and we went through a tube of Desitin every day. I haven’t found something that works as well and is safe for cloth.
– As much as I WANT to love my adorable GoodMamas, the extra step of using a cover makes me sort of dread them. They work great, my new Thirsties Duo covers work great, they really are NOT THAT HARD…but in my diaper stash they’re my second to last choice (last choice being regular old-fashioned pre-folds, which I have yet to even try, despite having 3 dozen stripped and ready to go).
– Although our diaper sprayer does get the poop off the diapers, it also gets the poop on the toilet, the walls, the floor and the person spraying the diaper. Maybe we just have really high water pressure. Maybe we are just not smart enough to do it right. It doesn’t really matter when tiny bits of poop are flying ALL OVER YOUR FACE.

The ugly
– I picked just about the WORST TIME EVER to make this switch. Not only did Baby Evan finally start eating solid food regularly, he started eating meat. If you haven’t had the joy of smelling meat-fed baby poop yet you’re a lucky, lucky person. These diapers are GROSS. The fewer seconds I have to look at or smell the poop the less likely I am to puke on the changing table. It doesn’t help that my super-power-strength sense of smell (thanks pregnancy!) is at an all time high. I can smell a dirty diaper from 30 yards and have to hold my nose when I toss my diaper pail bag in the machine. I’m reallyreallyreallyreally looking forward to trying full-time cloth with a new, exclusively breastfed baby whose poop doesn’t make me throw up in my mouth.

So to sum up: Good change, poor timing. I’m definitely going to keep using cloth at least part-time, and hope to switch to full-time in the future. Anyone have any newborn/small/medium sized all-in-ones or pocket diapers they’re looking to unload?

(Oh! AND! If you’re one of those people who have no interest in switching to cloth but had trouble with a certain diaper brand that may or may not have caused ugly chemical burns on some babies – including ours – may I recommend Luvs? I know, right, who uses Luvs?!?! We needed some disposables for our vacation a few weeks ago and they were the cheapest option at BJ’s so I picked up a box. They work great! They don’t smell funny! The box says something about a money-back guarantee although I know nothing about that! This endorsement is in no way sponsored by Luvs – they don’t know me from a hole in the wall – but my dislike of a certain other brand makes me want to support companies that don’t give my baby a horrible rash.)

I started this blog for Baby Evan, my original bebeh, so EVERY POST for the first 12 months was related to growing him, feeding him, caring for him and loving him. There were a few posts that had more to do with my own life or opinions, but I would argue that everything that’s gone in my life in the last 24 months* was directly influenced by his presence. No scrapbook in the WORLD is as detailed as this blog is when it comes to recording every single magical poop filled moment of a child’s life.

And now I am 12 weeks pregnant. OMG. 12 weeks pregnant means I am in my second trimester with Sandy and I’ve written about it less than half a dozen times. I have no tag for “first trimester”. Most days I barely have time to think about being pregnant, let alone dwell on it. When people ask me “So how are you feeling?” I stare at them kind of blankly for a minute until I remember they’re asking due to my knocked-upped-ness. I haven’t bought a single baby item or browsed a single website for nursery inspiration. I don’t even know if we’re going to do a nursery this time – we know we like co-sleeping for at least 6 months so why disturb our guest room? I haven’t made a giant list of names or sat super still for hours wondering if I was feeling baby flutters or just gas (seriously, I totally still can’t tell) or planned a baby shower** or bought a baby book or taped the ultrasound pic to the fridge (I don’t even know where I PUT it) or…or…or anything. Most of the time I think I’ve imagined the whole thing and I should start packing up these unused maternity clothes to put them in the attic.

I would add I’m doing a BETTER job of a lot of things this time around – I’m eating much healthier for one. After everyone’s suggestions on what to feed Baby Evan I’ve started keeping a lot more fruit in the house and yesterday I ate my body weight in berries. With Baby Evan the only thing I ate my weight in was french fries. (The fact that I’ve had minimal morning sickness this time helps immensely.) I’m staying active, and by active I mean “going to Stroller Strides regularly and running after Baby Evan all day”, not “buying a prenatal yoga DVD I do twice before I start fast forwarding to the part at the end where we focus on relaxing, i.e. lying down”. I have officially gained zero pounds so far and I no longer think I’m destined to exceed last pregnancy’s highest number. I am reading a totally different set of books, reading a different set of message boards, asking a different set of questions, all of which mean I will be better prepared for birth and the super-important moments immediately afterward. Sandy is going to have a lot of advantages thanks to my been-there-done-that knowledge – if I don’t simply forget to go into labor because Baby Evan just said “Luv you mama!” for the first time or is throwing a screaming temper tantrum in the mall or because it’s freakin’ CHRISTMAS and I am WAY too busy to stop and push out a watermelon baby.

I fear at this rate, my (imaginary future) third child is destined to star in it’s very own episode of I Didn’t Even Know I Was Pregnant.

*Proof I am indeed pregnant: I had to use both my fingers AND a calculator to figure out what 9ish months of pregnancy plus 14ish months of life totaled.

**I’m going to have a baby party instead of a shower, hosted by myself, with a cake and punch and decorations but no presents. I might not be spending as much time dwelling on this pregnancy but I want Sandy to know s/he was just as worthy of a party as Baby Evan.***

***Which I’m pretty sure proves I’m not doing quite as badly as I think I am.

Alternate title of this post: Maybe this time around I’ll actually remember to tag my posts in such a way it doesn’t take me three weeks to find them.

I started this here little bebehblog the day I found out I was pregnant with Baby Evan. I’m actually incredibly thankful for that now, since going back to read about how stuff happened last time is both fun and reassuring. The looking back is NOT so fun when I realize that this is what I looked like at 10-ish weeks during my first pregnancy:

Yeah, in my head, that was a bump. I hate you, past Suzanne.

And now, this is what 11 weeks looks like:

Also for the record, This is actually my other side. I flipped the picture so it was easier to compare. That tattoo is pre-babies.

It’s actually even worse when I wear clothes:

Not a maternity dress. The good news is that dress didn't fit at ALL a few months after I had Baby Evan, so getting into it - especially pregnant - was a happy moment. P.S. I bought it in Paris. I thought you should know. P.P.S. Please ignore the toilet paper holder. Bathroom self portrait.

Important less learned from my previous pregnancy: I’m going to have my maternity photos taken at a much earlier, cuter date instead of waiting for 35+ weeks when I was all swollen and puffy. I lost contact with the girl who did them last time (we were MySpace friends and my account is LONG gone) so if anyone in Connecticut has a recommendation let me know. Although I should mention now I’m not in any position to spend $1200 just for the rights to the digital prints. I learned that lesson the hard way.

I feel like I need to start with a disclaimer: This post is not part of the breastfeeding/formula debate. My choice on that matter was made a long time ago and I fell firmly on the breast side of the fence. I struggled, I cried, I fought and after almost FOUR MONTHS of problems, with a very supportive LC and a lot of luck I made breastfeeding work for us. I now attend a weekly breastfeeding support group, at which I am one of the “veteran” mothers who give advice to those just starting out. I have nursed Baby Evan successfully and exclusively for his entire life. I would even go so far as to say I am a lactivist, especially when I compare my opinions to many of the posts and articles I see online. My original goal of nursing for 1 year was extended to 2 years a long time ago.

All that being said, I NEED MY BOOBS BACK.

Did you know that when you’re pregnant, the volume of blood in your body doubles? All that extra blood flow can lead to a lot of changes – both good and bad. You can use you imagination on the good stuff. (If you need any more details shoot me an email, I’d be happy to explain.) But thanks to increased sensitivity my nipples now feel like they’re being pierced with dull yet burning hot needles by someone who sucks at piercing things every time Baby Evan nurses. Let me tell you, it’s not very fun. I’d rate it somewhere between root canal with no Novocaine and having a toenail ripped out with pliers.

As far as I know, there really isn’t any way to alter this pain level, unless I were to rely on heavy narcotics. Which I don’t think is a real option. It’s not a matter of a better latch or a new way to hold him or teaching him not to bite. We’ve got all that down. The only way to stop it from hurting would be to stop nursing.

And there’s my problem. Baby Evan still nurses like an infant – every 3 or 4 hours with a couple of 6 hour stretches a night. I don’t mind morning, bedtime or even naptime nursing – there are enough hours between those that my nipples get a chance to recover. But I both CAN’T and DON’T WANT to stop nursing Baby Evan completely. I CAN’T because despite his ever increasing acceptance of solid food, Baby Evan still doesn’t eat nearly enough to count as a meal – especially not a well balanced one. French fries, animal crackers and an occasional bean or bite of apple is not lunch. At least as long as he’s nursing I know he’s not going become malnourished or obese. He still wants his milk when he’s hungry and offering other options just gets food thrown in my face and an earful of angry screaming. He never got the hang of a bottle – he’s too old for one now – and cups are usually played with and then thrown on the floor. He also doesn’t get any other liquids (although we did convince him to drink half a sippy cup of juice* this weekend) so I’d be worried about dehydration if I suddenly stopped nursing. I don’t WANT to stop because I set a goal of at least 2 years per kid. I don’t want to end my nursing relationship with Baby Evan just because of this pregnancy. I don’t think that’s a good way to introduce a new sibling to our family – “Say hi to Baby Sandy! No more milk for you! Now don’t go resenting anybody!”

Clearly, weaning him entirely isn’t in our immediate future**, but what I need is advice on how to gently lead a baby towards solids and away from the boob. We’ve past the point where I would need to use formula – my doctor OK’d starting him on whole (preferably organic) milk – but is there an easier transition? Maybe soy milk? It’s closer in consistency and flavor to breastmilk. Do I try to shorten our nursing sessions? Do I force solids on him despite the screaming and throwing? Please help a mama out.

*OK, so it wasn’t juice. It was Crystal Light. But it was orange flavored and I did water it down quite a bit some. Go ahead and judge, things are pretty desperate around here.

**I am clinging to the stories I’ve heard of toddlers who suddenly lost interest in nursing around the 5 month mark of pregnancy due to a change in milk flavor. If I KNEW the end(ish) was within sight I think I grit my teeth through the next 3 months.