Get Excited People...I'm Back!!

That's right people...I'm back! I took a brief hiatus from the blog and by brief, I mean a few months. We've been dealing with a touch of crazy at our house from having a baby to it being that crazy time of year at work to dealing with the renters from hell. You know...the usual stuff.

So you probably know that one of my goals for 2014 is to run a half-marathon. That will become a reality as I did sign up for the Mankato half-marathon in mid-October. 218 days to go! Glenn Jackson is being a love and running it with me. That means at some point over the summer I will grow to hate him as he continues to do things like make me eat my vegetables and actually make me run. Ugh, the nerve.

In all honesty, though, I'm really excited about this. So excited, in fact, that I actually got off my ass last night and went for a run. Woot woot! I haven't ran since the 10-miler a year and a half ago. Let me tell you, it wasn't pretty. I ended up walking a little bit, everything hurt, and I'm pretty sure I looked like one of those dogs with big jowls and loose skin that flops up and down when they run.

I am dying laughing as I type this

It was a completely pathetic run but the point is, I did it. I felt so awesome afterward. I know I need to get back on track but this run just solidified everything my mind has been telling me these past couple of months.

Forewarning, I will now become one of those annoying people who fills you in on their training and whether or not it was a good day or a bad day. Don't worry, though, I've got plenty of other crap to fill you in on so stay tuned.

I will now leave you with a couple of pics of my boys just because they are so damn cute!

Lessons I Learned in 2013

Like many others, I've sat back and reflected on the past year. 2013 was a busy year for us...new house, new baby, and everything in between. It was also full of a lot of lessons.

I learned that building a house can be a complete pain in the ass. We fought more this past year than we have in our entire marriage because of one stupid house. I can say now that I don't regret doing it but there were many times where I might have said differently.

 

I learned that second pregnancies are very different. So much that I didn't even know who I was anymore thanks to the numerous amounts of hormones. I struggled every day and there were times where I thought I was going to go insane but somehow you make it through. Because it's completely worth it in the end.

I learned that no matter how much life throws at you, you'll always be able to get back up. Every day is a new day.

I learned that being diagnosed with gestational diabetes was not a death sentence. I CAN watch what I eat without starving. I CAN poke myself in the finger with a needle 4 times a day. And I can completely appreciate the fact that people have to do that every day of their lives because they have no choice. You guys are rockstars!

I have been reminded that life is short. Many friends have dealt with heartbreak and loss, especially recently, and it's served as a reminder that life is precious and you need to live, laugh, and love every single day of your life.

I've learned that two kids are harder than one. Especially when the older one is 3 1/2. But I've also learned that you can love two kids equally. I wouldn't trade being a mom for anything in the world.

I learned so much in 2013, more than I've shared. I had more than my share of bad times but I also had plenty of good. And the good always outweighs the bad.

2014 is going to be a challenging year for me but not in a bad way. I'm setting lofty goals for myself. I'll have my usual goal of getting in shape (I know, you've heard it before) but this time is different. Getting gestational diabetes was a huge eye opener for me. If I don't get my weight under control, there's a good chance I'll end up with diabetes later in life and I'm going to make damn sure that's not an option for me.

I'm also going to try and accessorize more. Sounds stupid, I'm sure but I have a boatload of jewelry and belts and scarves that sit in my closet and do nothing. What's the point of having this stuff if I'm not going to wear it?

Glenn and I have a combined goal of creating a budget and sticking to it. We always talk about doing it and several times have in fact started one but we never stick to it. With two kids in daycare, it's something we definitely need to do.

My biggest goal is to run a half-marathon. I figure if I can survive the TC 10-miler, what's another 3 miles. It may not sound like a lofty goal but considering I haven't ran since the 10-miler (which was in October 2012), it's a big deal to me! I'm shooting to do one in the fall so expect to hear about the trials and tribulations of training throughout the next several months. I promise you'll enjoy it!

I hope 2014 brings you everything you're hoping for, wishing for, or aiming for. I'm definitely going to make the best of this new year and I hope you do, too.

An Update on Baby Jackson

Things are progressing nicely with Baby Jackson after a mild scare a couple of weeks. Ok, it wasn't even a scare so much as my doctor getting a little bit too concerned about my blood pressure. I'll explain that first since it plays into my update.

So a couple of weeks ago I was at a diabetes appointment to see how things were going and we discovered my blood pressure was up. Now to be fair, I had just gotten a bad cold a couple of days prior and had taken a Sudafed that morning, which, unbeknownst to me, can cause one's blood pressure to rise. So the nurse had a minor freak out and called my doctor but let me go home. A nurse called back and said to check my blood pressure on Friday and Monday and call with the results and they'd figure out where to go from there. No big deal.

So Friday comes and I get my blood pressure checked and go figure, it's still high. I hadn't taken any medication since Wednesday but my cold was still raging. I call in the results, grab some lunch for Glenn and I, and head home. Fast forward a half hour and my phone rings. My doctor herself is on the line and tells me I need to go to the hospital to get monitored. I, of course, freak out a little and call my mom so she can come and get Rowan from daycare because I have no idea how long I'll actually be at the hospital.

I was monitored for about an hour and a half, during which my blood pressure went back to normal. I was showing no symptoms of hypertension like last time. Baby was monitored, too. He had no issues other than he wouldn't cooperate and kept moving around so the fetal monitor couldn't always capture him. Bottom line...my cold was doing me in. So I saw my doctor last week and went on medication for my blood pressure. No big deal. At the time, she basically said she would "take him" at 37 weeks, most likely by induction.

I had another ultrasound and check-up yesterday where I learned that baby is doing just fine. He's about 5 pounds, 4 ounces, give or take a 1/2 pound, is measuring short (the poor kid was doomed anyway), has a big head (I am not surprised), and actually has a little bit of hair. There is no sign that the diabetes or my blood pressure is causing any issues with him, which is awesome. My blood pressure was also fine, which was a relief. And because of all these good things, baby boy may not be here quite as early as we were expecting. He'll be early...just not here in two weeks early.

I was definitely disappointed because my left hip is taking the beating of a lifetime and the poor guy has no room to move around, which causes mommy to be VERY uncomfortable pretty much all the time. I go back in two weeks and we'll see if I've started dilating or not. I've been having a lot of cramping, which I'm told is a sign of early labor. Yay! If he's showing progress at wanting to make an appearance, I could be induced in about three weeks. I'm pretty much going to beg and plead because these last 24 hours have been rough on me. I hate to bitch and complain because I want him to be healthy but I can only take so much more.

That being said, I would appreciate it if people would not ask when he was coming or how much time I have left. I've been getting a lot of that at work and it's driving me nuts. I don't know anything concrete other than he'll be here when he gets here. We just want him healthy and safe so that may mean he comes in two weeks or four weeks. At this point your guess is as good as mine!

The One Where Rowan Had Surgery

It's been a week and I'm just finally getting around to posting about Rowan's surgery. Little man had what one would call a hydrocele, meaning he had a tiny hole between his abdomen and his groin that would allow fluid to drain into his right testicle. The specialist said it could potentially go away on its own but surgery was the sure fire way to make everything all better. So away we went.

Getting prepped and ready to go

Rowan had surgery at Children's in St. Paul. He was such a trooper. I think it helped that he's so young. He knew he was having surgery but didn't fully understand what that meant. And the staff at the hospital were great. They were awesome at making sure we were doing ok and keeping us informed as to what was going on.

Mommy went to the OR with Rowan so I could be with him when he was put under. I tried my best to keep it under control but watching them put him to sleep was awful. Pregnancy hormones didn't help at all, either. Luckily it was a quick surgery and he was back with us in no time. The part he hated the most was having the IV in his hand. He wanted it out in the worst way but had to eat his whole popsicle before they took it out.

Post-surgery

Two hours after surgery we were on our way. Rowan walked out on his own and insisted on playing with toys before we left. Honestly, you couldn't even tell he had surgery. He was bouncing off the walls as soon as we got home. My parents and grandma were nice enough to come up and brought us supper so we didn't have to cook. It also gave mommy and daddy a tiny break from being the doting parents we are. You can go ahead and laugh. Sarcasm is my best friend, you know.

Saturday Glenn ran the Warrior Dash for me. I had signed up a year ago and didn't think I should try and do it at 6 months pregnant. He got me a decent time. I let him keep the medal but I took the t-shirt. It's only fair.

Glenn post Warrior Dash

Rowan wearing daddy's medal

Cooling down like everyone else

It was flippin' hot at 10:00 in the morning. Rowan decided it was appropriate to dump water on himself like all of the other runners. What a kid!

Rowan has since recovered beautifully. He's got 2 more days of wearing his waterproof bandage and then he's good to go. Thank god because he wants that thing off in the worst way. Mommy's glad everything is over, too. It's definitely no fun to watch someone deal with surgery but it's even harder when it's your own kid. I guess that's just one of the things you deal with when you become a parent. Rowan basically has no fear so I'm sure this won't be the last time we visit the hospital. I just hope he decides to wait a few years before we have to go back!

Twelve Weeks and Counting

Today I had my first follow-up since getting diagnosed with gestational diabetes. It definitely didn't go the way I thought it would. My numbers overall haven't been horrible. Over the last week, I had two instances where my sugar level was over my limit. To me, that seemed really good. Wrong.

Let's see, first of all, I'm not getting enough calories. I managed to lose three pounds over the last week and apparently that's not a good thing. Second, I'm not getting quite enough carbs. I'm supposed to have 13 to 15 choices a day. My average is 9.5. Last, I'm not getting enough protein so I somehow have to figure out how to incorporate even more. So what does this mean? Basically I have one more week to try and straighten everything out or they'll make me go on insulin.

Here's why I'm pissed: I've barely had time to adjust to the fact that I have gestational diabetes. This is a lifestyle change for the next several weeks, one that I wasn't prepared for. I'm not used to counting my carbs and making sure every meal I eat is mostly balanced. So now I only have one more week to try and figure it out? That seems a bit extreme to me.

I am a horrible eater. I fully admit that. But it's really hard to try and get everything packed into one meal and still make sure my glucose level doesn't go over the top. Today at lunch and supper I ate more than I think I eat in one day, per their request. My levels were under the limit but not by much. So where's the give and take in all of this?

I'm so over this pregnancy. Don't get me wrong...I'm not sorry I'm pregnant. We struggled a lot to even get this baby as far as he is and I can't wait to hold him and love up on him. I just hate what being pregnant is doing to me. I can't even enjoy it anymore. At this point, I'm counting down the days until this is done.

The Fear of the Poke

Yesterday I got confirmation that I do indeed have gestational diabetes. I had to take the three-hour glucose test over a week ago and unfortunately didn't pass so I was sent to a specialist. I walked into that appointment completely freaked out over what this might mean. Was I going to have to give up my beloved diet coke? What would I do if they told me I had to check my blood sugar each day? And worst of all, what if I had to take insulin? I hate needles, in case you hadn't figured that out. And I know I have tattoos but that is completely different.

I was pleasantly surprised by the appointment. The nurse who did my consultation explained what it meant to have gestational diabetes and how it would be handled. I have to count my carbs but as I was looking over the recommended meal plan, I realized I have to eat way more than I thought I did. I just have to cut out pop and sweets. And my beloved diet coke is still something I can have. Yay!

The only piece I'm not happy about is having to poke my finger 4 times a day. My eyes literally filled with tears when she handed me the glucose monitor. I had to try it out there to make sure I knew how to use it. I sat there for so long with that little device pressed to my finger before I got the courage to push the button. And honestly, it was not nearly as painful as I thought it would be.

I know I'll get through this. It's just 13 more weeks of my life (or less if baby boy decides to listen to his mama and come a little bit early). I can't promise that someday I won't try to kill you for a cupcake. But as my nurse said, it's ok to have a treat of some kind on a special occasion. It's just not ok to have them every day. At least until the baby is born and then all bets are off.

And just to be clear, if I want advice, I will ask for it. I don't need lectures and I don't need people breathing down my neck about what I am eating. I am a big girl and I can handle this. I probably sound like a bitch but every pregnancy is different and what works for one person may not work for another. So this is between me and my doctor and no one else.

This is not a death sentence. If anything, this is preparing me for getting back into shape once he's born. Ok, let's be honest, once the holidays are past. Nothing will keep me from my holiday baking.

Why Turning 34 Just Plain Sucked

Well it happened. My birthday that is. Last Friday was the big 3-4. Definitely not a milestone but one year closer to being that much closer to 40. I'm not afraid of turning 40 but it's looming on the horizon a lot quicker than I anticipated.

To say I enjoyed my birthday is like saying the bear in the Great Outdoors enjoyed getting shot in the butt. It definitely did not make my top 10 birthdays. It didn't start off horrible. I kept Rowan out of daycare so he could go down to old daycare and play with the kids. Our old daycare lady is retiring this week so I wanted to give her a chance to hang out with him again. So I dropped him off for a couple of hours and went shopping. I made myself feel better that it was my birthday but snagging myself a lovely new handbag. Picture glitter where the lace is and you'll have a general idea of what it looks like.

The afternoon wasn't too bad, either, except for the fact that Rowan didn't actually sleep during naptime. So what did he do when we were driving to Apple Valley to go out for supper? Why sleep of course. We had to run a couple of errands first so we took turns sitting in the car with him so he'd get some decent sleep. You would have thought that would have helped once he actually woke up, but alas, it did not.

Dinner was less than pleasant. It was one meltdown after another ranging from not wanting to eat any fruit to freaking out because the chicken was on his plate even though I finally told him he didn't have to eat it because I was tired of fighting with him. The best part was getting a free birthday burger out of the deal.

Afterwards we went to a friend's house for dessert, where the fun of having a crabby three-year old continued. Rowan started the evening by pulling out an irrigation tube that had just got installed (luckily Brian and Glenn got it back in) and ended it with a full-on screaming and crying meltdown because we wouldn't let him have a mini sundae cone because he didn't actually finish his push up. Yeah, we're mean parents.

I was sick of dealing with him at this point so we loaded him in the car and went home. Home was 10 minutes away. That entire 10 minutes was filled with screaming about how he wasn't going to go into timeout or go to bed, that he was a good listener, and how he still wanted that sundae cone. At one point I had to bite my lip so that I wouldn't start crying because I was so tired of listening to him.

We've been trying very hard to not argue back because it doesn't do any good. That works in theory but at some point you just hit your breaking point. And of course, being pregnant amplifies everything x 10. I know it's just a phase he's going through. He's three, for god's sake. But I'm struggling enough with the added hormones, not being able to take my anxiety medication, and still dealing with house crap after 5 months and I don't know how much more I can take. I know we're given what God thinks we can handle and apparently he thinks I can tolerate a lot but I'm over it all. This baby cannot get here quick enough.

So, there you have it. It was definitely one of the crappier birthdays I've had but I got lots of well wishes through texts, phone calls, and Facebook, which definitely helped. One more year in the books. At least next year I can actually drink on my birthday.