July 24, 2010 marks the 2 year bloggiversary of Bebehblog. I think the traditional gift is air in a can. Or maybe pants in the next size up. It’s sometimes hard to believe that I’ve been posting for that long, especially when I look at how far I HAVEN’T come. I may actually have fewer readers today than I did on that first post, thanks to my penchant for describing the state of my cervix in detail. (Don’t worry, if you missed it the first time around I’ll be doing it again at Christmas!)

But a lot of things have changed. I don’t just write anonymously into a void anymore. I write for my family, for my extended family, for friends who have moved away and for new friends. I have a real ad network that might some day actually pay me something. I’ve joined the fourth circle of hell known as Top Baby Blogs. PR people have suddenly noticed my existence and want me to tell you about their great new *insert product totally inappropriate for pregnant woman/toddler here*. Love it or hate it, I’ve starting doing giveaways. I became a Twitter addict. I bought a fancy new camera and started pretending I was the Pioneer Woman.

But despite all of that, I still feel like I write mostly for me and because I like to make people laugh. Which is why I started, those long 24 months ago, and why I can’t see myself stopping any time soon. In honor of this very special anniversary, please enjoy the post from my very first day as a Bebehblogger, written practically seconds after finding out I was knocked up.

WARNING: Several mentions of where bebehs come from below! Let this be a warning to anyone who thinks “Oh no, I’m anonymous!  My mother/grandmother/friend Amanda’s step-dad will NEVER find my blog!”

Testing…testing

“For something called ‘Clear Blue’, this thing isn’t very clear is it?” said my husband E as we squinted at the pregnancy test, looking for one vertical line.  “Look! It’s right there! I can see it!” I insisted.  “I don’t see it…wait, there it is! No I don’t…oh hold on! Wait…never mind” said E. Stupid pregnancy test, we both agreed. We’ll buy a new box.

We’ve talked about having kids since we got married in August 2004, but only decided the time was “right” last October. But then we decided we should probably wait until he made some career decisions. In January my grandfather died and I had one of those if-we-don’t-have-kids-soon-so-many-people-we-love-might-never-meet-them moments. We decided again to start trying. But I had promised to be Maid of Honor in my best friend’s wedding, so I didn’t want to be pregnant for that.  In March we decided the time was never going to be perfectly right so I threw out my birth control pills. No baby in April. E was out of town for his job in May and the first part of June, so I did some period math and figured out the first weekend he’d be home was just about the week I’d be ovulating. Did you know that when it comes to babies, everything gets counted from the first day of your period? For years I’ve thought I was most fertile two weeks after the end of my period. Nope. It’s days 10-14 of your whole cycle. Aaaaand now that I think about it, I’m damn lucky I never got pregnant accidentally due to my poor reproductive knowledge.

We had sex twice the weekend that was supposed to be right for baby-making. A week later I declared I was feeling queasy and must have morning sickness. Six days before my period I couldn’t take it anymore and bought a box of early response tests. The next morning I peed on the stick and waited three minutes, staring at my bathroom floor. It really needs to be cleaned. Times up, no line. Not even a really really really faint maybe-I-see-it line. According to the very long instructions in the box, there was still almost a 50% chance I was pregnant, but seeing the results come out negative seemed so final to me. I put pregnancy out of my mind and vowed to try again next month.

My period didn’t come. When I was officially 6 days late I couldn’t take the stress of waiting anymore, so I tried another Clear Blue test. This is how we ended up in the kitchen with a piece of plastic I had recently urinated on. “Maybe I’m just a little bit pregnant?” I suggested, even though I knew this isn’t really possible. “We’ll go get a better, fancier test. A digital test,” suggested my technophile husband.

Sunday July 20^th, my mother’s birthday, I took the better, fancier test. PREGNANT said the little window. I just stared at it with my mouth hanging open. “What’s the matter? What does it say?” E asked, grabbing it from me. “Hey, good job!” he said when he saw it. “Um, thanks. I’m pregnant,” I said, in case he was still unclear. “Yeah you are!” he grinned. “I’m pregnant” I said again, showing off my awesome conversation skills, “What do I do now?”

Even though it was a bazillionty degrees on Sunday, we made it out to Buttonwood Farms for their annual Sunflowers for Wishes event, one of those things I’ve had on my “local stuff to experience” list for several years but somehow always managed to miss. They plant 15 acres of sunflowers and sell wagon rides and bouquets for $5 with all money going to the Make a Wish foundation. Fantastic photo op PLUS do-goody feelings? How can you resist?

I'm pretty sure those are the cows they get the milk for the amazing ice cream from. Unfortunately the line was at least 50 people long so we'll go back for the ice cream some other day.

I know the baby's not even pay attention but I think I look GREAT (minus armpit fat) so I'm posting it anyways. Vanity, thy name is 4 months pregnant in 95 degree heat.

Baby Evan like the wagon ride more than this photo seems to indicate.

There we a LOT of bees. Luckily, we're not allergic. I don't think.

Not a photo effect - they really did look like they were glowing.

NOW it's time for fun with photo filters.

I swear on all things cheese this photo is SOOC (straigh out of camera). I didn't adjust a single thing.

I'm sorry, I can't stop. They're just so pretty and happy and fun to do artsy photo stuff to.

17 weeks preggo

I couldn't resist buying a couple bouquets. Sunflowers are just so...sunny. Brilliant, I know.

One more for good measure.

It was a good day.

p.s. Remember, the TerraCycle giveaway ends Thursday and there aren’t that many entries so the odds are pretty good you might win! All it takes is a comment! Trust me, entering means more to ME than it does to you – I’m just trying out the giveaway thing and would hate to discover it makes people hate me.

So we’re pretty much done with the breastfeeding around these parts. Thanks to a combination of a sudden drop in supply due to pregnancy and Baby Evan’s obsession with peanut butter, we’ve gone from exclusive nursing to only once or twice a day in less than 3 months. (I can’t even begin to explain how much peanut butter that kid eats on a daily basis. I think if there was a sudden peanut shortage he would starve to death rather than eat something not slathered in sticky, nutty goodness.)

For a month or so I’ve been following the “don’t offer, don’t refuse” method of weaning, but in the past week I stepped it up to “distract and offer an alternative” even if Baby Evan specifically makes the sign for “milk” (to be fair, he uses that sign for milk, food, water, juice, and sometimes ATTENTION!!!!!). Today he skipped his remaining nursing session – first thing in the morning – and only latched for a few seconds as I rocked him down for his nap.

As ambivalent as I wasabout the end of our breastfeeding relationship, I can now say THANK GOD he’s done. Pregnancy has done weird stuff to my hormones. Weird, hurty, uncomfortable stuff. Rather than the warm-fuzzy-happy feeling I used to get when the baby nursed, now it just feels like someone’s gnawing on my boob. I have to grit my teeth to keep myself from clawing my own skin off and mutter “getoffgetoffgetoffgetofffffff” under my breath. It is…unpleasant. I don’t feel any differently about breastfeeding in general – and I can’t wait to nurse the next bebeh – but for NOW, I am dunzo.

ANYWAYS, because I am no longer nursing day and night, I no longer have to be here. I mean, YES, I do have to be here, because I am his mother and he needs me and loves me (despite the fact that he STILL doesn’t say Mama) and there isn’t anyone else to watch him while E is at work. But there is no longer an invisible tether attached to my nipples. Which means I’m having a teeny tiny crisis.

In August, I’m going to/hosting a bridal shower (and bachelorette party)(I’m DD)(because I can’t drink and because I drive a minivan)(at least being lame has it’s advantages for SOMEONE) for one of my oldest friends in Virginia. I had been trying to talk E into driving down with me, since 6+ hours in the car on 95 by myself with the baby sounds like the OPPOSITE OF FUN. Add pregnant to that mix and all I can think of is how much that sounds like the start of a particularly tragic Dateline story. Film at 11.

Today E suggested “Why don’t you just leave the baby here with me?”

OMG WHAT?

The idea of not bringing Baby Evan is both horrifying and incredibly appealing. NO BEBEH FOR A WHOLE WEEKEND? Where am I going to get my daily dose of adorables? How would he survive without me?? NO BEBEH FOR A WHOLE WEEKEND? I could sleep in as long as I wanted. I wouldn’t spend every second worried he was driving my mother crazy or falling down the non-baby-proofed stairs or pooping behind the dining room table. I might actually enjoy myself. Is that even ALLOWED?

For the record, I have NO DOUBT that E would do a great job with the baby by himself. I have zero concerns at all about that half of this equation. I’m worried about how I’M going to handle it.

Advice, please. Have you gone away without your kid(s) yet? Were you crushed with guilt and bad-mother abandonment issues? Are you dead?

And I’m not even the one leaving!

My good friend (both on the interwebs AND in real life, which in itself is pretty amazing) Amanda is moving to Virginia in two weeks and I am sad. Her stupid husband is making her go. Ok, the Navy is making them go but it’s hard to be mad at a giant government institution rather than one guy. Even if he is a giant dork super nice.

Amanda is the kind of friend who says stuff like “One of these days we should go check out that museum” or “This summer, let’s go to the lake” or “There’s an apple festival in Salem this weekend that looks fun” and then ACTUALLY DOES IT. I am baffled by that kind of motivation. 99% of all my “Oh, we should totally go…” end with me sitting on the couch stuffing my face with Goldfish and watching a Law & Order marathon (yet another reason canceling cable might be good for me). They have made us let us tag along on so many fun weekend outings that last week when we WEREN’T with them, Madison, Amanda’s daughter (age almost 4),  turned to her mom and asked “Where’s Miss Suz?” unable to understand how it was possible to do stuff without us.

Besides inviting us to parties and barbecues and parks and beaches, Amanda is my magical porch fairy/hand me down baby toy provider. For the whole past year at least once a week we find presents/baked goods on our porch, always from Amanda & family, always delicious & useful. ALL of Baby Evan’s favorite stuff came from them, including a super duper awesome playhouse we’ll be taking ownership of after their going away party next weekend, where I plan to throw a giant fit and beg them to stay. But not before stuff that awesome house into the back of our minivan. It keep the kid entertained for FOUR HOURS last nigt.

OH. AND. WHO IS SUPPOSED TO MAKE A CAKE FOR BABY EVAN’S SECOND BIRTHDAY? I couldn’t even attempt something like the one Amanda made for his first birthday unless I am 100% prepared to cut off a finger/get very drunk/end up lying on the floor in tears after three hours.

Amanda introduced me to Twitter, to blog giveaways, to Gardener’s Lake, to the church we (sporadically) attend, and to a zillion other things. They play marbles with us and don’t even mind that E yells and I call people names. Madison loves Baby Evan (she’s started requesting her own baby brother) and does an amazing job of playing and sharing with him when they’re together. Their friendship has meant so much to us during the past year, especially in the transition from DINKs (dual income no kids) to Dad works, Mom stays home with a baby all alone and desperate for someone to talk to who doesn’t want to chew on her nipples.

I jokingly threatened to slash some tires to prevent their leaving, but I think Amanda’s a little afraid I wasn’t joking. But of course I was. Slashed tires would barely slow them down at all! Pulling some random bits out of the engine, now THAT would take a few weeks to straighten out.

Still kidding. Mostly. We’ll miss you guys!

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p.s. Today is the LAST DAY to vote in the BlogLuxe awards (bebehblog is nominated in the funniest category!) so if you wouldn’t mind clicking right over there on that little black button I would love you forever and ever too —–>

Yesterday morning when he woke up, Baby Evan lay in his crib and announced he was awake rather than cry or scream.

He ate a bagel and grapes for breakfast, an entire grilled cheese sandwich for lunch and ravioli off a plate WITH A FORK for dinner.

He brought us books and sat quietly while we read them. Over and over and over and over.

We played the “name that body part game” and he did nose, ear, head, belly and bellybutton on both himself and on me.

He gave lots of kisses both on demand and on his own.

He appears to have grown some more hair, especially on top.

At bedtime, he had a bath and jammies and a book and then E said “night night”, put him in the crib awake and standing up. Baby Evan lay down, hugged his blankie and went to sleep. Not a single protest.

WHO IS THIS TINY HUMAN BEING PERSON AND WHERE DID MY BABY LUMP GO????

p.s. I also felt Sandy moving for the first time yesterday. OMG THEY’RE GROWING SO FAST.