Terrible Twos

I must have all my toys in the pool!

This is a terrible age.  And it's a wonderful age.  Sometimes in the same 5 minute span. 

Friday morning was a rough morning of epic proportions.  Finn woke up before 6am (we don't have to get up until 6:45).  "Good morning, Mommy!" For a few minutes he was content to play a game on my phone, but then, "I have to poopy, Mommy!" So up we went.  He sat on the toilet and while he did pee, there was no poop.  He then ran around naked for a little bit, but then came in to my room with his shorts and wanted to get dressed.  I had an idea.  "Why don't you put on underwear, instead?"  So he went to his room, got his underwear and managed to put it on himself.  (As an aside, I had no idea how exhausting it was to be with a child who wants to do EVERYTHING HIMSELF.  Even the things he can't possibly do.  EVERYTHING.) The epic struggle to put on his underwear with no help from mommy ended with a triumphant, "I did it!" a huge hug and kiss for me.

With a reminder that if he needed to poop, he should let me know so he could go on the potty, I got in the shower.  I got out of the shower to find my powdered eyeshadow all over the counter (and on Finn).  While I cleaned this up, I let him out on the porch off my bedroom to play.  I was putting on my makeup when he came running in, "I have to go poo!" I started to take off his underwear, and then got suspicous, reached out and felt his butt...yep.  There was poo. 

Have you ever tried to take underwear full of poo off a two year old?  It never ends well.  I got the underwear halfway down his legs and - plop - the whole big pile of poo fell onto the floor (conveniently on top of his pajama bottoms).  After I'd flushed that and wiped the poop off my arm and his legs, I sent him back out on the porch, with a strict warning to come back in if he felt like he needed to potty again.

But I quickly grew suspicious (running theme these days), and stuck my head out the door to find him peeing on the floor.  At least it was outside and I was able to clean it easily.  But that won him a fresh diaper and the end of running around naked.

In what I am sure was an act of defiance, he managed to open the bathroom closet door and get out some of his lotion.  Which he covered himself in - but only after dumping out half the contents of  a bottle of hand sanitizer all over the floor. 

At this point it was almost 8am.  Nanny M walked in the door as I was carrying him and his dirty laundry down the stairs.  I've never been so relieved to be able to hand him over to her as I was on Friday morning! 

Of course, he stood at the door and waved, yelling "I love you!" and "Bye-bye!  See you later!" and "Peace out!" while blowing kisses as I drove away. 


******

I'm still feeling pretty crappy.  Usually it's just a constant low grade nausea, but there's waves of much more intense nausea that hit at random times and just about knock me over.  I'm not a thrower-upper, so I've managed to avoid that so far, but I've come pretty close.  What really worries me is that I'm only 8 weeks tomorrow, so there's still a chance it could get worse.  I am lucky that while this nausea is a lot worse than it was with Finn, it's not debilitating, so while I'm not feeling up to doing much of anything, especially in the heat, at least I'm not lying on the floor unable to move for fear of throwing up. 

I've also been having a lot of spotting.  It's been pretty constant this entire pregnancy, but usually just pink or brown. Today it was more a dark red - still spotting, mainly on my Crinone (I know, gross) and not when I wipe.  Spotting can happen in normal pregnancies, but it's impossible not to worry about it, especially since there was a definite change today.  My next ultrasound is Friday and I'm trying hard not to feel anxious about it.  The second ultrasound seems to be the magic scan - if all is well with the second scan, then all will be well with the pregnancy.  (I know that's not completely true, but it does make me feel better.) 

I have also worried about how I'll feel about this baby compared to Finn.  Will I love him/her as much as I do Finn?  Will I feel sad that he/she doesn't share my genetics?  I've read before that your heart expands with each child, that your capacity to love grows as each new child is added to the family.  I'm starting to see that's true - the fear I feel when I think of losing this pregnancy is much more than the fear of having to do all this again, it's the fear of losing this little baby - this Chimichanga - that I've already come to love so much.