Election Night

I like election night.
I am a nerd. And so is my husband. We sat glued to the t.v. and watched all the numbers come in like it was the Super Bowl.

I don't know why I even checked Facebook tonight.

I voted for Obama. And he has been declared the winner.
But if he had lost, I am pretty sure I wouldn't be online trashing our newest president elect and whining about how it is the "end of the world."
Seriously. The drama.

I am liberal.

But I didn't vote for Obama because I am part of the "47%" that needs a hand-out.
And I personally think it is ridiculous for people to think that freeloaders will be any different whether under a Democrat or a Republican. If you are lazy and looking for something for nothing, the color of the President's tie isn't going to make much difference to you.

And it's SO annoying to me to see multiple posts about how we have a leader without any "family values." And how some people are worried about the "morals that will be forced on our children."

Really?  Obama is that horrible of a person?
Is it because he supports gays having equal rights under the Constitution like the rest of the country?
Or is it because he supports a woman's right to choose?
Or - my personal favorite -  maybe it's the old "He is a Muslim!" spiel... 

{Aka - try and find a real reason to discredit him.}

Because honestly, none of those "morals" are being thrust upon your poor, unsuspecting children.

Regardless of who occupies the White House, it's your responsibility to instill values in your kids.
You can say whatever you want to your children about abortion.
You can tell your kids it is wrong for a man to be with another man.
You can teach your kids that anyone who doesn't subscribe to your religion is a bad person.
It's your choice. President Obama isn't going to swoop into our schools and brainwash kindergarteners with his "questionable morals."

As for me, I plan to teach mine that God created us all differently and that even if people are different than us (race, religion, sexuality), they still deserve respect. Sadly, I think tolerance is a way under-valued character trait these days. 

I understand people have different opinions, but the world is not ending because we still have a Democrat in the White House.

We all have different views and that is what makes this country tick. But it is also what drives it apart. I think - regardless of who the President is - politicians need to work together.
Not work against each other based on party affiliations.

And seriously, writing whiny-sounding crap about wanting to move to Canada on Facebook just makes you look like a sore loser. Put on your big girl panties and deal with it.

 

36 weeks ... and a little pissed

Only three weeks left.
 
My doctor has agreed {with some strong persuasion from my endocrinologist} to deliver Baby by November 27th.
[It's pretty established procedure for diabetics to deliver by 39 weeks because the placenta ages faster in Type 1 diabetics.]

Now to get to the "pissed" portion of my title...

 

So yesterday I go in for another non-stress test. No big deal. They also started doing ultrasound measurements of my amniotic fluid - probably because last week I asked why they didn't do them, especially since my doctors in Omaha stressed their importance. {So apparently they decided to start just because I asked? Whatever.}

So I am laying on the table, chit-chatting while he takes all the measurements. It's literally just a little one minute long scan. Not checking anything about baby - just fluid.

Then out of the blue my doctor says, "Good news, it's still a  ______."
I literally sat upright and said, "WHAT?!"

He sputtered a bit and tried to cover his mistake, but his poker face needs some serious work.

I replied, "Did you seriously just tell me the sex of my baby?!"

He scrolls up on the screen a bit and points to Baby's genitals for further clarification - which seriously, I can't ever tell, so this wasn't helping in the slightest.

Then he says, "Oops. I thought you already knew."

Umm... no. I didn't know, asshole. But thanks for not even bothering to apologize.

We seriously waited for 9 months, and I find out randomly on an exam table - by myself - with only 3 weeks left to go?!  This seems unfair.
Every ultrasound I have ever had including ones that my doctor himself has done, I always say, "We don't know the sex, so don't tell me." I didn't this time because there was no reason for him to even mention it. Plus I had already told him at both ultrasounds last week.
Ahhhh! It's so infuriating.

It was sort of a shock to hear the news without expecting it. I was in a sort of daze as I left the office. By the time I got home, I was just upset. And I will admit it, I shed some tears over it.

Don't get me wrong, I am not upset over the sex of the baby.

I honestly didn't care one way or the other.

 

I am upset because this is - in all reality - our last child.
And I really wanted one last surprise baby.
I wanted to have that extra motivation during delivery.
I wanted to hear Jared announce, "It's a boy!" or "It's a girl!"
I liked the suspense of wondering what Baby would be.
I didn't want to know.

But now we do..
And picking names just got a little bit easier.

***

Side note:

 

Lesson Learned : Trust your instincts.

My first impression of my OB wasn't a very good one.
But with being high-risk, I felt I didn't have many choices. I should have cut and run right away. Plus any doctor who tells you to your face that he thought you were a "train wreck" probably isn't going to be your best bet. But by the time I was completely fed up, I was 30 weeks pregnant and it was a little late in the game.

As Jared put it:
If we ever decide to have another kid, this douche is definitely not getting our repeat business.

Amen.

It's Diabetes Awareness Month: Let's Celebrate!

Just kidding.   Diabetes isn't a thing to be celebrated.

But November is Diabetes Awareness Month.
And I do have Type 1 diabetes...

So in honor of this awesome {not really} month, I thought I would share some info about this disease I have been blessed with {not really times 1000} and give you some pointers on how to not make me super annoyed regarding the topic as well.

I am gonna keep it simple and try not to give you a case of the yawns.

Here's the low-down on the basics you need to know:

There are two main types of diabetes - Type 1 and Type 2.
(There is also gestational diabetes, but I am not going to get into that.)

 

Diabetes is essentially a problem with insulin. Insulin is the substance needed to get the sugar in your bloodstream into your cells to be used for energy. When this doesn't happen, it leads to the build-up of sugar in the blood - and thus the term high "blood sugar" is born.

Type 1 diabetes (also sometimes known as juvenile diabetes - which is misleading because people can get this type at any age) occurs when your body no longer has the ability to produce insulin. It's an autoimmune disorder - meaning your body basically attacks part of itself. The cells that produce insulin are destroyed, so you have to supplement with insulin via shots or a pump. This type of diabetes is of a rapid onset. And once you have it, you have it. Period. Type 1 diabetics need insulin 24 hours a day as well as insulin to cover all meals, which is done by counting carbs.

Type 2 diabetes is different. In this type the body becomes resistant to insulin. Insulin is still made - no cells are destroyed- but because of the resistance, the insulin doesn't make it into the cells like it should. Type 2 diabetes is usually gradual in development. Low-activity levels, being overweight, and poor diet are factors that contribute to the disease. People with Type 2 usually are able to take pills to help decrease the body's resistance to insulin, although in some cases this is not enough and they have to begin taking insulin too. Losing weight, changing your diet and exercising can do a lot to eliminate the need for medication altogether.

Okay, so now we have that covered.  This brings me to the rant portion of my post.
Here are some things you need to keep in mind.

1.  Type 1 and Type 2 are NOT the same.
See above information.
They are two different diseases, with different causes and treatments.
I feel like type 1 diabetics get lumped in with all the information out there about "diabetes" in general. You know what I am talking about: the video footage they show on The Nightly News - the ones with morbidly obese people shown from the neck down walking down the street - while Brian Williams discusses the newest horrible statistics. I don't like being associated with that. Some people hear "diabetes" and that is their go-to visual picture. I didn't get diabetes from my horrible diet. And I don't wear unflattering spandex pants either, thankyouverymuch.


2.  Don't tell me what to eat or that I should start working out to "cure" myself.
Nothing is better than eating a delicious piece of birthday cake and having someone come up to you and say something like "So naughty! You shouldn't be eating that!" and smile like they said something absolutely hilarious. A close runner-up is when someone (who is Type2) comes up to you, pokes you in the stomach, and says loudly to a room full of people: "Us diabetic girls have to keep a watch on our fat bellies." [Unfortunately a true story... and I was also pregnant at the time which made it even better.]

This annoys me to no end!
Nutritional information aside, from a carbohydrate standpoint, a piece of cake is the same to my body as a banana and glass of skim milk. My insulin covers it exactly the same. I could eat just plain lettuce all day long, but I would still require insulin every single day for the rest of my life. Period. So stop with the "joking" comments when I eat a cheeseburger or have a piece of cake like everyone else. You're not particularly funny. I am just kind enough to roll my eyes behind your back instead of to your face.

Same goes for the exercise comments. For sure I should exercise more than I do. But no amount of marathon running or weight lifting is going to "cure" me. But thanks for the tips...


3.  Stop giving me your advice.
Are you a nurse specializing in diabetes? A physician's assistant? A doctor? Do you even have Type 1 diabetes yourself?

No?  

Then S.T.F.U. keep your "medical" advice to yourself. 

You cannot believe how many people come up to me on a regular basis to tell me about how their great aunt tried this special diet or how a friend-of-a-friend-of-a-friend tried this vitamin cleanse that made it so they never have to take insulin again. Clearly you just don't get it. Which is fine. Just shut your trap.
When I hear that someone has cancer, I don't go up to them and suggest they change their chemo regimen or tell them that they should just cut out dairy and they will be cured. Because that is stupid - not to mention rude. And again, obviously, you just don't get it - which leads me to my next item...


4.  Ask me questions.
I am all for questions. That's how we all learn. Because unless you or someone close to you has the disease, you probably don't know much about it. When people give me weird looks about my pump, I explain what it is. If people ask about how it works, I (literally) lift up my shirt to show them the site where my tubing goes in. When people ask about what foods I can eat, I explain the differences between type 1 and 2 so that they aren't another annoying person who comments on the "naughty" foods I eat.
I don't expect you to know much about the disease - I didn't know anything about it until I was diagnosed myself. So instead of acting like a total know-it-all jackass, ask a question or two and maybe learn something new.


Okay, okay... rant complete.

I really should make a copy of this and hand it out to people.
Over kill? Yeah, probably.

But I sincerely do hope that some of the info was helpful. And that I will never ever again receive another belly poke from someone referring to my "diabetic belly."   Here's hoping.

 

Happy Halloween!

The whole family went trick-or-treating last night, along with Grandma Sherri and Aunt Justy.

 

Bailey was a cheerleader.

 

Avery was a chicken.

And while we got lots of great pictures last year of Bailey hamming it up in her bee costume, this year we didn't do so well.

In fact we got only one picture of the girls together, and Lord knows neither one of them could be bothered to look at the camera. {And this was before the sugar high, mind you.}

And while I loved Bailey's costume last year, I have to admit I really loved watching Avery run around dressed up as a chicken.
It was even cuter when she would randomly say, "Bock! Bock!"

Bailey definitely has the hang of this candy stuff now.
She was all about marching up to people's front doors and saying those magic words that grant you your pick of treats. I was impressed with her manners and self-control at only taking one piece of candy. I was also impressed that she knew enough to pick a Snickers candy bar from the full-size ones offered at one home. Way to go, Bailey. Makin' Mama proud...

Avery... wasn't such a huge fan of it all.
She went up to about 3 or 4 houses, with me basically dragging her along behind me. She did say thank you after getting a piece of candy, but that was about it. Back in the stroller she went. She was content to be pushed around by Daddy - especially because riding gave her more time to gnaw open candy wrappers.

We made our way to Linda's house.
Linda has been a huge Halloween lover as long as we have known her. As kids we spent many a Halloween trick-or-treating from her house (we lived in the country) and eating Casey's pizza afterward. She would dress up every year and still loves to get in the Halloween spirit.

The picture we took with Linda basically summed up our 2012 Halloween experience:

Adults laughing.

Avery whining/crying.

Bailey digging for the next piece of candy to eat.

 

 

I hope everybody has a great Halloween. And enjoy all the candy. I know I have been.

35 weeks

{or 36 weeks if going by my original dates...}

It's going so fast.

Bailey made her grand debut at 36 weeks exactly.
And she weighed over 7 pounds.

So that goes to explain why when Baby moves it looks like a tidal wave of limbs rolling to the other side in my stomach.

I would like to pretend that the extra weight I have gained in the past week or so has been going directly to Baby. But it obviously isn't. It is going to my now-enormous ankles - easily a +4 on the pitting edema scale - and is creating a truly outstanding double chin. And Jared had to go and point out that I will look even more amazing once they pump me full of IV fluids. Can't wait.

But I can't complain about much else.
I still sleep great. I have to change position every time Baby changes sides because its little butt gets wedged uncomfortably high. But even that isn't a big deal. With a husband that works nights, I get a big ol' bed all to myself. Plus the girls have been sleeping in until 8 or 8:30 every morning -which is absolute heaven.
I am still waddling around just fine. I might look like I just had hip surgery when I get up from sitting too long, but at least I am moving! And tennis shoes? Forget about it. Flip flops are my friend and will be until there is snow on the ground, no matter how many comments I get from old people at the grocery store.

Baby's eventual name is still a work in progress. 
I know. Huge surprise, right?
We have it narrowed down to two options (I think?) for the girl name. The boy name... not so much.
Inspiration really needs to strike. And soon.

Halloween prep

Nothing like a little last minute pumpkin carving!

 

Each girl had her own personal "baby pumpkin" to decorate.

{According to Bailey we had a Mommy pumpkin, a Daddy pumpkin, and two baby pumpkins.}

 

 

 

Bailey took her job of pumpkin decorating very seriously.

 

 

 

And Avery, not to be trusted, whined until she got a non-working pen.

Hey, it made her happy.

 

 

 

Justy claimed she hadn't carved a pumpkin in the last 12 years, so we had to change that.

Some might say she was a little overzealous on the plan for octagon eyes and a hexagon nose (weirdo)...

But at least she didn't accidentally cut off one of her teeth like I did!

 

 

The whole family with the "family" of pumpkins

 

 

The finished products

 

We are a little dull in the pumpkin carving department.

Next year the goal is to actually plan ahead and do something creative

{aka print off a cool design from the Internet}.

 

Now we are all set for Halloween fun tomorrow when we go trick-or-treating.
I am excited to see our little chicken and cheerleader work those plastic orange pumpkins!

Everyday stuff

Nothing too exciting or memorable to write about these past few days... but I am going to anyway. :)

First things first, my last post was a bit premature.
I am a mean wife and mom.
And I basically forced Jared to return our new puppy.
 
When Thursday rolled around, after a few days of just me and the girls with him during the day, I was feeling very overwhelmed. Not because he was a bad dog or hard to handle.
He was just a puppy.
And puppies chew.  A lot.  And it's constant.
{Obviously I knew this beforehand, so don't think I am a total moron, but I was trying to think positively, even though I didn't want a puppy in the first place.}

And after my little hospital scare last week, I had been trying to take it easy... Or as easy as you can take it at home with two toddlers and housework to be done. Every few seconds I was trying to take something out of Puppy's mouth and redirecting him with an appropriate chew toy. The girls couldn't play with a single toy without him trying to steal it away and chew on it. I didn't really feel it was fair to them to not be able to sit on the floor putting together a puzzle or reading a book for fear of the dog tearing it apart.

I was also having brief visions of life in a month or two where I would be sitting on the couch with Baby attached to my chest and trying to quietly (but very sternly) yell at the dog to stop eating a favorite book or beloved stuffed animal. Just the thought of the stress and annoyance was too much. Jared understood my points, but he is still sad about it. I truly think he already loved Reese. He misses having a dog. And to be honest, I do too. But the time wasn't right and right now, Baby (and Mommy's sanity) has to come first.

This past week was the start of my twice-weekly non-stress tests (NSTs). So I get the privilege of driving an hour for 15 minutes worth of testing. Awesome. But it's for Baby to make sure he/she is doing okay in there, so I have little choice.
 
It's a simple thing. I get hooked up to a machine, with one part that measures Baby's heart rate and another that measures for any possible contractions. You want the test to be reactive - meaning that baby was reacting and having at least 2 periods of raised heart rates. If it is non-reactive that could mean potential problems with Baby, although not always. With Avery I had one non-reactive test and it was just because she was sort of on the lazy side for those tests. She apparently liked to nap at the precise time I had them scheduled.


I worked on both Friday and Saturday. And while they were pretty easy days, my feet were feeling the pain. I forgot how tiring it is to be on your feet for 12-hour shifts in your 9th month of pregnancy. My ultra-sexy compression stockings did not do much to help out.  Cankles for sure.  Thankfully I have a loving husband who took pity on me and rubbed them, and they soon resembled human feet again.

Today was a productive day.

I think both Jared and I are nesting.

My mom called this morning and asked if we would like her to take the girls for a few hours so we could finish the painting we have been putting off for going on three months.

Umm... YES. I would love for you to take my children off my hands for a few hours.

 

So after the girls were deposited at Grandma Sherri and Papa's house, things got real.
Jared finished painting the entire upstairs hallway, including all the door frames and bedroom doors. It wasn't a huge job; we just couldn't do it with the girls home because 1) they get into everything and 2) they get into everything. It looks great to have it all finished. Goodbye random spots of yucky grey trim!
Along with painting, mucho housework got done. All the bed sheets changed, load after load of laundry done, three bathrooms cleaned, new wall outlets installed... It's amazing how much you can get done without a 2 year-old and a 1 year-old underfoot.
And I realize that my life is a little pathetic since I get excited about getting long-awaited household tasks done, but hey, it's true. I feel much better knowing that our house is a little bit more put-together and organized.

This next week is going to be a busy one.

* Bailey is evaluated for her speech on Monday. If all goes well she is due to be discharged from the Early Access program and I am not sure how I feel about that. Because of her cleft, her speech is something we want to stay on top of and work on to prevent any problems. At the age of 3 she can be part of the speech program through the school system, so that is something we will have to look into.
*Along with my trips for NSTs, I also have one final trip to Ames for an endocrinologist appointment.
*And for fun things this week, trick-or-treating is Tuesday night. I am excited to dress the girls up and watch them go beg for candy. {Here is hoping Bailey stops choosing those nasty flavored Tootsie roll things!}  Bailey is going as a cheerleader and Avery is a chicken.  Cute pictures to follow.

Reese

 

Somebody bought himself his own belated birthday present.

 

And I am not going to pretend that I am overjoyed about it...

Said birthday gift is an 8 week-old German Shepard male named Reese.

Yes, he is cute. I will give him that.
And he has yet to have an accident. In fact, he will go to the door and whine to be let out. So he has that going for him.

Plus the girls seem a bit taken with him.

 

He is mild mannered and tolerates lots of "love" from both girls.

 

He is their new baby.

And they are very concerned that he is getting enough to drink.

 

 

So that makes three very happy family members.

Mama Solko has some reservations though.

Mostly the timing.

Ya know, the whole newborn arriving in like 3-5 weeks thing?

But apparently I am the only one concerned with this...

 

At 9 months pregnant, I do not appreciate having one more thing added to my list of obligations during the course of a day.

My grotesquely swollen feet {seriously, it's baaaaaddd} would like to log as many minutes up in the air as possible. Constantly keeping a puppy from attacking Bailey's hair - which I am sure is a great chew toy - is not my idea of fun.

 

But he is here now, so I know I have to make the best of it.

He is sweet.

And we did get him named in record time.

(An amazing accomplishment for us.)

Maybe that is a good sign.

 

 

Birthdays

Today is Number 28 for me.

28 years ago, after laboring at home for most of the day, my mom had to call up to my grandma's house to beg her to make my dad come take her to the hospital...NOW.
His response: "Well... let me finish this last load of corn first." 
Thankfully they made it to the hospital for my arrival a few short hours later.

This year I got to thinking of some of my past birthdays. We always had a birthday party with family - grandparents, along with my Aunt Donna, Uncle John and my two cousins, but I didn't have a big party with friends very often.

Therefore, the birthday that sticks out in my mind is my 7th birthday party. I begged and begged to be able to have a whole bunch of friends over. I was so excited when my mom agreed and all the girls in my class came over after school.  I remember getting off the school bus with all my friends and seeing the huge "Happy Birthday" sign my mom and younger sisters had made for me and hung on the fence.

We opened presents, played outside and, of course, had cake and ice cream.

I remember my dad loading up a hay rack and taking us on a hay ride behind the tractor. I thought that was so cool.

I don't remember much about presents, with the exception of the awesome new shirt I got to wear the next day:

There is a wonderful home video of me opening a present with this shirt inside. I make the most obnoxious over-the-top excited face when I open it. And it has become a classic in our family. When we stumbled across it on accident a couple of years back, I thought I was going to have to do mouth-to-mouth on my sisters and Jared because they basically stopped breathing they were laughing so hard. If they could figure out a way to upload it from VHS onto the Internet, believe me, they would - just for their own entertainment.

And lastly, a birthday that stands unparalleled in its awesomeness is my 21st birthday.

My friends Shelby, Holly, and Kevin made the 8 hour drive to Hays, Kansas to surprise me for my birthday. Unbeknownst to me, Jared had lined it all up - having never even met them before - and they jumped out of his apartment bedroom to surprise me that night. I was so shocked I started crying. It was seriously the best.  {Jared is really good at surprises.}

We spent the weekend doing the things you do for someone's 21st.

(And if you don't know what that entails, we clearly are not friends.)

Many shenanigans ensued.

And many biscuits and gravy (and gravel) were consumed from Tiger Alley at 2 AM.

 And then there was a small E.R. visit the next morning so my torn-off toenail could be sewed back on.    

Hey, at least alcohol is a good analgesic...!

I also got some good sympathy and a courtesy ride in the WalMart wheelchair.

All in all, it was a majestic weekend.

Holly got a free fake ID from a drunk girl on the street, Kevin opened a door on my toe, and my closest friends and future husband bonded over many (many, many) cans of beer. It was a success.

And while this birthday will certainly be liquor-free, I will certainly still be surrounded by people I love.

I will just have to make up for the lack of tequila next year.  ;)

A Night in L&D

It's a good thing we didn't have any plans last night.

Starting in the early afternoon I was having a lot of constant Braxton-Hicks contractions that seemed to not let up. I was writing a blog post while the girls and Jared napped and I didn't think much of it. By the time Jared got up at 2, I had been pretty uncomfortable for about an hour. I continued to do small things around the house until about 3:30 when I noticed my back was really achy and I was having the contractions pretty regularly. They were coming every 3 minutes and my blood sugar was over 370. (Normal is less than 120.) After sitting on the couch for a good hour and a half, the contractions stayed the same and my blood sugar wasn't coming down. Ugh.

So I called my doctor's office and they told me to do all the things I had been doing for the past hour and a half: rest, put my feet up, drink fluids, check my blood sugar. When they heard my blood sugar wasn't coming down, they insisted I come in.

So off we went to L & D.

Jared and I both knew (okay, we were pretty sure) it wasn't real labor. I had this happen once at 34 weeks with Avery too. It seemed like the same thing. My blood sugars spiked out of the blue and fake contractions came with it.

Well, after getting a cervical check, peeing in a cup, getting my blood drawn, and having IV fluids started, they couldn't find anything wrong. No infection. Nothing. I just basically doubled up on my insulin for a few hours until it finally came back into normal range. Throughout all this Baby was on a monitor and doing fine.

Regardless, they decided to keep me overnight just to be on the safe side.

So I got to spend a fantastic evening in the L&D Motel.
I know I have definitely slept in worse places, but in those instances, I was not pregnant and definitely not sober. And getting comfortable in a hospital bed with a bowling bowl-sized stomach while attached to an IV is a challenge to say the least. Not the most restful night...

So while I am happy everything is fine and it was just a mild false alarm, I could really use a nap right about now.