Diary of a Mad Pregnant Woman: Day 1

Okay, so I will start with a brief introduction of happenings and the remainder will consist of daily emotional ups, downs, and sideways.  Today I officially 6 weeks and 5 days pregnant. My boyfriend, Andrew, is traveling with his band across the country. I have just returned from a 2 show weekend visit in Atlanta Georgia to see them, and I am beat!

My brief history goes something like this: I have a 5 year old Zephyr from a previous marriage. My ex husband and I are great friends and share custody equally. So, up until and 8 1/2 months from this date, I have days off of being a parent. I was 26 when I had Zephyr. I was in Graduate school and I was incredibly busy. I guess I missed a lot of the changes happening to myself at the time; It could also be that I just don’t remember anymore. So hopefully, this blog will also serve as a reminder someday.

Andrew and I have been together since March of this year but we have been friends/acquaintances for several. It was fast but it was always him. He is the love of my life, my complete Fairy Tale. I didn’t really think I wanted to have more kids until we found out we were pregnant. I can’t imagine a more beautiful being in this world. So, we decided to go ahead with our plans of a house and at some point, marriage. We picked out names. We cried. We laughed. Now, we wait. Thus begins my Diary of a Mad Pregnant woman:-)

9-14-09

I woke up this morning in Atlanta after a long weekend of following the band from Atlanta to North Carolina with my friend Paula. The shows were great. However, my ability to stay awake and sometimes friendly have dwindled considerably. I am always a dancer and I love music but for the first show I spent most of the time throwing up intermittently in the green room. It’s always fun when the band comes off stage for a set break or an encore and some pregnant girl is passed out on their couch sweaty and nauseous. Poor Andrew having to see me so pathetic and not be able to help. Of course all of this is in retrospect but all I remember feeling is wanting to get the hell out of there. I wanted to be in my bed. I pictured some great comfy, completely ficticious ,house with giant fir trees. It was nestled  at the end of some desolate road. In my perfect world, it was winter, I wanted to be snuggled up on my oversized couch wrapped in a blanky watching an old movie while Andrew whipped up some of his famous vegetables in the kitchen. The image, so beautiful, ripped right out of my mind when I realized I was headed to our friends apartment at 1 am with an early morning four hour drive ahead of us. When we got to our friends house I curled up in bed and all of the sudden it was like a wave crashed onto me and I couldn’t breathe. I began thinking, this isn’t my dream. This isn’t even close. My thoughts snow balled int0 “i am never going to have my dream” and in a matter of seconds my thoughts became …. How am I going to do this?!

And the flood begins:
* he’s going to leave half of the time and I’m going to be alone with 2 kids and I can’t even handle one very well* I can’t believe he get’s to leave and have fun while I’m stuck at home* ugh I feel like there is rock in my belly* how will we afford day care* do I need to get a better job* Am I ever going to stop being so tired*Oh My God I have to work full time and then come home and take care of a baby and a 6 year old* What am I going to do when I am up all night breast feeding and then have to manage Zephyr’s school activities and home work* i want a beer* When will i get to go see Andrew play* is he going to hate me because his passion is his music and he won’t have nearly as much time to do what he loves* he’s grumpy when he’s tired* we are on completely different schedules* will all my friends completely disappear now that i don’t have days off* It’s so not fair that Andrew gets to leave*what if he loves the baby more than me* what  if we don’t have any time for each other* i am going to get fat and what if this time it doesn’t come back?* what if he freaks out one day and leaves me and i’m alone with two kids from two different fathers*what if I can’t financially support us* what if we never have time for each other again* what if i never have time for myself* damn my boobs hurt* what if I completely lose myself this time*….and so on.

So, my brain is swirling these thoughts and Andrew is calmly wandering around the room getting things together for tomorrow. He might as well be whistling a happy tune. He is happy. He is going to be a father for the first time. He loves me (obviously a lot). He’s not worried about much more than my well being (I do fall off and into things frequently, lose everything, and ever so often wander into streets before looking both ways:) I however, am curled up in a bed here and there glaring in jealously at his energy, his freedom. He sees me and he looks kind of unsure and frightened, like he knows he is holding his hand out to feed a potentially dangerous animal. He softens his vocal tone and pets my head, asks me if I need anything and tells me he loves me. Then BLAM: here come the waves again:

*so I’m supposed to be soooo grateful that you are sweet to me now. That’s all you have to do is be sweet to me* I have to get fat* I have to pee every five seconds* I can’t drink* I can’t smoke* I can’t hang out with people who drink or smoke without secretly hating them* I can’t eat sushi, take aspirin, go scuba diving (like I would but still I can’t), eat MSG, high fructose corn syrup, get wasted and dance on tables* And YOU! You get to be free. You get to drink, smoke, stay out late, avoid my emotional outbursts by being states away, sleep in, have energy. Freedom. That’s really the deal breaker. Andrew says it looks like “i hate him”. In fact he even googled “my wife is pregnant and now she hates me”. Truth is it is  this “I am so jealous because we both get the same result but I have to do all the work”. In that statement “all the work” is incorrect but it is exactly how I feel. Alone in my body which is no longer mine. I am once again responsible for the life and happiness of another human being. I’m scared. My freedom is gone.

If i were a buddha bead making commune yoga loving healthy girl, it might be different.  But the non-mom me, which i have one week of every week, is a social girl who likes to be unconcious and have happy hour while listening to good music and hanging out with my newly found love of my life. I lose just about every thing smaller than a bread box, I work full time and I need to travel frequently cause all my best friends live in different states. This pregnancy has brought on a new kind of awareness than did my first child as I could in no way grasp what i was giving up at the time, therefore I wasn’t quite so “mad”. I use the word “mad” because I know that is how most perceive it. It is more of a general fear, anxiety, and jealousy all wrapped up in a pretty little package.

So, this blog today will no doubt be a little longer than those to follow. The rest will more than likely be a log of my daily journey through irrational or heightened emotions.

Today:

Leaving Atlanta today was calm and I felt rather numb and alone. Like today is the true beginning of my awareness that life as I know it will change. My mind wasn’t racing. It wasn’t even thoughtful. When I arrived to Austin and found my car a slow creeping anxiety filled my throat. I called Andrew. He was eating with his band mates on his way to Washington DC for a gig. I called cause I didn’t know what else to do but when he answered, I didn’t have much to say except “I’m anxious and I don’t know why”. I felt guilty for having nothing happy to report, for my inability to conjure up some sound of peace, for the fact that I know his heart is heavy with feelings of helplessness. He wants to be here. He’s doing all he can to take care of me and to tolerate my emotions. I cried after we hung up and until I drove into my driveway. I drug myself up the stairs and wandered around my house going through a list of things to do that could distract my lability. This blog is what became. And, I feel better. Only now I am scared to stop writing because when the emotions return, and they will, What will I do then? To be continued…

FYI: This original post  will remain in it’s top position while the posts below will roll backwards, the most recent being the next you will see. I can’t figure out how to change it. If you wish to read them in order, after this one, begin at the bottom and work your way up. Peace.

Blessed

Hormones, boy they are a blast. In one week, I have cried, yelled, cleaned the entire house, felt sorry for myself, contemplated moving home with my mommy;-), eaten everything in the house, driven 40 min west,turned around straight back home, shopped, cooked, slept, not slept, pretty much everything on hyperdrive. I find myself either happy homemaker, tired & lonely or anxious & overwhelmed. Of course all of these roller coaster emotions tend to come when Andrew is gone. I was baking cookies and cleaning the house and sleeping like a baby for the month he was home. It is a strange guilt to feel, the guilt of not being able to maintain that happiness without him. Loving someone so much you can’t live without them is completely new territory for me. It’s an incredibly helpless yet insanely beautiful place to reside. I am so much better, as a whole, when he is next to me. He comes home tomorrow and will be home for a week and half, gone for another week, and then home for an indefinite period of time. I am looking forward to beginning/continuing our life as a family. We are so lucky. I am so blessed.

Break

Just a brief post to say, I’m tired. I’m sure inspiration to blog will come again but I think I’ll be taking a couple days off to sleep. Andrew is back on the road. I am kid free. See ya in a few.

Shift Changer

Listening to Martin Sexton singing, “free falling”, and sitting on a patio in the beautiful fall weather, for my whole 30 minutes before picking my son up and beginning my motherly role.  The trick to being a parent is to find moments for yourself and/or for yourself and your significant other. There are so many days when you’re just ‘too tired’ or you can think of a million other ‘necessary’ things to do with your time. Only it is all too easy to let those ‘necessary’ things distract you and then one day your doing the laundry and in that silence you wonder, for just a moment, “Where did “I” go?”  All to often those ‘necessary’ things are usually for someone other than you. Making dinner, making lunches, doing homework, preparing for work, doing house chores etc. If you think too long and hard about them they will take precedent. Being still isn’t viewed as “productive” it’s mostly viewed as ‘wasting time’.

I am constantly having to remind myself that time for ‘me’ isn’t wasting time, it’s the only way to make the daily routine of constantly playing roles, well, less mundane. It reminds me, if even for a moment, that roles do not define me, that I am still a single entity and lessens the pressure of performance. It’s almost what I imagine good actors have mastered, to become the role for the situation. Like a shift changer, you never truly lose your form. I am not my job, I am not a mother, I am not a girlfriend, I am not a daughter, I am not a friend. Those are roles. I just am but it is my job to be completely focused on each one when I am in their presence. It is my job to give each one my full attention and with my best effort and that is definitely a work in progress. There are many times I feel like I have failed in some fashion. “I could have done that better”, but that’s life – it’s a learning curve.  Each role is an adaptation and regretting handling something in a different manner only gets in the way of learning the lesson behind the meeting.

The minutes have now dwindled. It’s time.  Here I go, off to the phone booth for a quick change into my superhero spandex and cape.  Super mom to the rescue…

My Poetic Side

 

Airport Bar in Denver 3/09

My Pen didn’t wake me

Requesting to divulge some secret

I was just hoping with each lettered line

for an unforced dotted “I”

But as so it goes, nothing comes

But it’s better than sitting  here alone

In an airport bar

Where one is gone

And most are far

Memoire 3/09

You come and go

With the likeness of snow

I envy you

But mostly, I miss you

The you I used to know

 

Handle Bar 3/09

I wonder what we are?

What will we be for eachother?

A cloak and dagger

With a mean whiskey stagger?

A blanket?

A mirror?

An extension chord?

A coat rack or a sounding board?

I want you to be so much more

But I fear my dear

Our best is here

And it will all disappear as before

 

Strangers 3/09

I would rather make friends

with the strangers at the bar

But the only table left is alone facing west

And somehow I think

it’s better to drink

And unwind my thoughts

with a pen and a pause

Because in a moment

I’ll be headed east.

 

You 3/09

I still miss you and your ways

I still feel it ashame to spend another day

Without you

It’s not that life is not liveable

or that beauty is not visable

It’s just that I prefer

your company

your laughter

you in front of me

over almost any other.

 

Sometimes 3/09

Sometimes I wish I could be like you

and choose my next move

or decide to let go

because it’s the smart thing to do

But then I don’t think I would

Because I can’t let go of a thing I know

and I don’t know how you ever could.

 

Lead Jacket 3/09

So unexpected

These events

A country under siege

A war amongst friends

In a time of conspiracy and indifference

People lost and found

Insistent

Which way is up? Which is down?

And then,

You saunter in

with a sheepish grin, a compass, and a map of the town

You make it easy to forget

time and regret

and I fall asleep in your arms of lead.

 

Where I sit 3/09

It’s almost funny I think

that I could fall for my own lines

Of course,

your delivery is much different than mine

You don’t say much

but when you do

it showers sweetness and such

I say it all to you, well everything but that

I use my hands

my eyes

my head upon your lap

Ah, it’s funny

Don’t you think

to see it from where I sit

Yes my dear

We are both full of shit!

 

Questioning 3/09

It’s hard to imagine a world

where things are as they seem

How many times can we fall between the cracks?

With the dust,

the polish,

and the wax?

Before realizing…

It’s only a dream

Of mirrors

Of hurdles

Of a neverending circle

Of sleep and wakening.

 

Confession 4/09

I must confess

You have caught me off guard

My pants around my ankles

My whistle in the drawer

I have all these things Im supposed to be fixing

All these lives I’m supposed to be living

And here you are with my scars

And your leaning on this fence

threatening to break the boundary line

and knock me to my knees

Somewhere between love and uncertainty

 

Home

You find me

In every rear view mirror

The song in my head

The shape of my brow

Formed from your rolling mountains

I am lost without you now

Lost without your familiar way

Misguided and wandering

without a word to say

We were only parting ways

It was never supposed to be

A thing farther than I could reach
And your landscape stretches out behind me

Beautiful and familiar

Singing to me our song

Come Home

Come Home

Come Home

Freight train

They hit me like a freight train. Unnecessary fears and irrational thoughts distract me from the breeze, the calm, the sunshine. Like a wild animal I am not consoled by soft whispers or frozen stances, by outstretched arms or sympathetic faces. Deep down I know it is not ‘me’ but it is mine to control. They come so fast and hard like tidal waves trying to pull me into their undertow.  I don’t want to drown. The fact of the matter is that I can’t. I don’t have that luxury. I have a child who needs me, the love of my life, a job that I am committed to, bills I have to pay.  Right now I want to let go, give up. “Fine, here I am. What more do you want?” Then there is this voice inside me that laughs a little at my weakness and then stands with fists raised and pronounces “ I will fight and I will win.

I am weary from this push and pull. Why is it easier to give up than to stand strong? In this moment, I feel like I am attempting to negotiate a truce between two nations at war for centuries. It is not impossible but it is exhausting; hormones and physiology against will power and faith, now that is one hell of a duel. I only wish I could be a bystander and cheer from the sidelines as I’m sure we all do. However, I know one thing – science and physiology will never overpower the mind and its’ capabilities. If I believe in myself and simply will not allow for this to break me. It can not survive if I do not give in ,and Damnit, I DO NOT give in. ‘I am okay’. In fact, I am better than okay and, (speaking to my hormones now), your attempts to dissuade me are futile. You may weaken me but I will not be broken. My life is wonderful. I am in love. I am blessed. I have a beautiful family and YOU Can Not take that away. So, I have said my peace to you ‘irrational pregnant being’ now please, be gone.

For Christy

There are so many reasons in life to be happy and yet so many people can not let go of the wrongs, the injustice. If we’re not careful the hurt and regret, the pain and the ‘what if’s’ overshadow the purpose of each ones presence in our lives and we end up missing the bigger picture. Some are meant to show us who we can be at our worst, some are meant to show us what we could have, some are meant to raise our standards, others to teach us limits. There are a million purposes for experiences, for the collision of moments in time. It seems more often then not we find ourselves dwelling on the injustice we feel from their end. We re-live those moments over and over again, ultimately wasting time. Thankfully I am not one of those people for the most part. Sure I have my moments, but they are just that, moments. I can no easier hold on to them than I can water in my palm. Sure I remember them, but I don’t feel them. To others who have been an intimate part in my life this has felt like a curse, to me, it is a blessing. True I can not FEEL the things of the past, but I can REMEMBER them. There is a huge difference and I think my curse/blessing serves me well. I love each encounter and all drive me to meet the next with greater consummation. I’m learning to notice red flags in time to save myself from their scarlet letter and to take the beauty I have been blessed to meet and painting my world in it’s hues.

Age has allowed me to experience and has taught me that I am in control, that prevention is necessary for survival. I have spent the majority of my life living by desire, no matter the cost. If I wanted it, I took it. If I thought it, I said it. I believed feeling was more important than thinking, and well, that simply is not true. One can not exist without the other. Every experience serves a purpose and most are not meant to last. I have learned that I can’t save the world but I can make my world a better place. My secret hope: that my curse of unconditional love and empathy, of being unable to FEEL every heartache and disappointment I have endured,  can inspire those who are stuck to let go. To REMEMBER that those moments are no longer. We all have the CHOICE to move forward and break free from the circle of the past. Be strong. Choose wisely. Stand Firm. Time will heal all wounds and just like a scar, one day it won’t hurt anymore. Every now and then you will notice it and for a split second you will remember how it came to be. You will realize that scar, and all the others, made you who you are and you will smile as they are part of your story and you are part of theirs.  That in itself is beautiful. Remember that. To err is human, to forgive is divine and forgiving yourself is just, if not more, as important as forgiving others. Live, love, forgive, learn, and move on. Love and Light.

Hindsight

It’s funny how this blog has become a series of inquiries, emotions, thoughts, and aspirations, more so than a steady train of thought in regards to my pregnancy. I love being pregnant for the second time. I almost feel as if I have done an injustice with my first son Zephyr. Hindsight is 20/20. There are so many new and exciting moments now. The fact that I found my soul mate helps a lot. I also think that age has a whole hell of a lot to do with it, the clarity is beyond explainable. There is such peace in truly finding and knowing yourself, with figuring out what you want and who you want to share it with. I now know experience is the only way to truly ‘know’ anything.

I think back to my pregnancy with Zephyr and I realize I didn’t think too much. I just continued on with my life only I could eat more and I was noticeably more tired. I didn’t read books, I skimmed them. I waited until 38 weeks to create ‘the nursery’. I was scared but only scared of giving up my single youthful existence. The fear didn’t really hit me until he was born and then it spiraled out of control. I had dreams of forgetting him in cars and finding him, a lone melted blob on the seat in the sun. I watched my friends in jealousy of their freedom. I loved him, with an unconditional crazy love, but I felt  sad, alone, and afraid. This is where the hindsight comes in. Storms and I, Zephyr’s dad, were decent in the married role but totally wrong in the parent role. We forgot about us as a couple. We didn’t think to ask the questions like “what do you think about day care, disciple, parenting responsibilities, work, television shows, censorship, religion,” etc. We ended up being more like business partners in the end, silent partners. Not that we weren’t both there, but we both were definitely not present. Or maybe it was me? Maybe the roles freaked us both out and we just didn’t know how to manage ‘us’ and ‘parenting’? Maybe it was because we didn’t date long enough to know we weren’t meant to be married? Maybe we could have made it as a married couple, just not as parents. I don’t know. I wish I did, it would make learning from the experience a lot easier.

I now think I was always waiting on Andrew. With that knowledge comes such hopefulness for this child, and such sadness for my first. Don’t get me wrong, Zephyr is a happy and well loved child with parents who get along famously. However, now I sit here and I know that if Jack turns out happier and more well-rounded (for lack of a better word), I will blame myself. Not the blame that comes with hating yourself or living with regret, but the blame that comes with being unaware. I will blame myself for being unaware. Then there is this wave of understanding that floods over me as I think of my mother, my best friends mother, so many peoples’ mothers, and only now do I recognize their face.

Being a parent makes the rest of life’s trials and tribulations seem a tad bit small. It’s harder to sit with ‘yourself’ when no such thing exists any longer. I have lost the ‘me’, the ‘i’, and it has been absorbed by ‘us’. Storms and I fell into being parents for the first time together, we didn’t know. This time, I am acutely aware of what is left after the novelty wears off, of how easily it is to lose sight of your relationship. I hope to God Andrew and I are made to surpass them all because I could not live through a loss like that again. There is a huge difference in now and then but there is no way not to compare, there is no way not to be just a little bit afraid. But I do believe in Andrew and I, more than I have believed in anything or anyone, and I am ready to experience not only parenthood but a family. I think only then will I be complete.

For Jack

Do you ever really sit alone with yourself anymore? In those moments, where silence could be, are you silent? Do you sit with your breath? Can you quiet your thoughts? I find myself alone at this moment, moving, doing things that I have given the name ‘necessary’. But are they? I turn the television off and try to quiet my mind. I listen to the dishwasher. I try and concentrate on my breath, “God why is it so hard to keep my thoughts on only my breath”. It shifts to “I wonder what song that was I was thinking about earlier, what is the name already,” “I took the trash out but wasn’t I supposed to pay a bill, hmmm”. Breath, oh yeah, breathe.

In the house the silence will do but it’s never truly silent until I am outside. The crickets are more noticeable than the high pitch frequency of the television, even though it’s turned off! Ugh, that sound drives me crazy. But the crickets, the wind, the full bellied moon, I don’t have to try to be silent under their skirt. I don’t have to stop to notice their presence. But why do I, why do we all, do it less than most of the time? Why can’t we, or better yet, why don’t we choose to slow down? How much more distraction could there be?

So, tonight I am going to lie in my hammock, I’m sure for a whole 30 minutes, and I am going to notice nothing but now, nothing but this beautiful baby boy inside my tummy, so innocent and perfect. Maybe he will feel the air, smell the wind, and dance in the gravity of the moon. Maybe this moment will find him when he is all grown up, and he too, will find himself home.

The Crest: Day 10

It’s starting to feel like fall again here in Texas. It’s somewhere around 75 and overcast. It’s not my favorite kind of “fall” but it gives way to the happiness I feel with the presence of cool breezes, leaves changing color, down comforters, and campfires. It is definitely my favorite season of the year. If I had my way, I would have a winter home in Texas and a summer home in Oregon (or in the Ozarks).

We have been moving for 4 days now, taking it slow, which is nice. The only things left in the house are furniture and kitchen oddities. I am super excited about having a home and not moving again for a LONG time. I have been “drama free” for a couple of weeks now with only intermittent fatigue and irritability. Ella, my belly baby, is apparently the size of a grape with fingers and toes and organs all in tact. I have such strong feelings that “she” is a girl although I’ve been known to be wrong before. We will be happy with either sex. It took us all of 30 minutes to decide names. If it is a girl, Marcella Marie Bylo Duplantis. I know, I know, it’s long and eccentric but it feels perfect. We will call her Ella. Marcella was Andrew’s grandmother. Marie is my mothers middle name. Bylo is my fathers nickname. If it is a boy, Jack Allen Bylo Duplantis. Jack is my favorite boy name. Allen is Andrew’s fathers middle name. We will find out in the beginning of November whether it is a boy or a girl. I can’t wait to know. I don’t understand how people wait to find out. I guess I don’t have that kind of patience.

So, life is happening all around me and seems so very noticeable. I find myself aware of all the subtle happenings. However, I feel I am much more distracted, but in a good way. I feel less selfish and more in tune with the world. I feel so much safer with Andrew home. I feel less alone. Things are doable. I hope it stays when he leaves again for tour. I know I am in control of my own happiness. I am working daily on living it. I guess we all are. It seems like it shouldn’t be that hard to accomplish if you take ego and desire out of the picture. It takes effort to be conscious, to be happy with what you have, to be present. I still can’t help but feel the awareness of change everywhere I look. We, well anyone over thirty I guess, seem to be cresting the top of a hill. Our parents are getting old. Our grandparents are most likely gone. We are learning to accept loss or to prepare for it. I guess that’s why there is such a thing as a mid life crisis. Kind of like the terrible 2′s. It’s all simply a time period that signifies a great change in perspective.  First comes the knowledge of life, then, death. Everyone handles the awareness that follows in so many different ways. My father handled his mid life crisis by freaking out and shutting down. My mother handled hers by standing strong, staying course, and holding on. I am hoping to handle mine by by finding something good in every experience I encounter, staying conscious, and believing in something of a higher power. I believe in love, in family, in something after this life. I have realized that, up until recently, I have been simply going through the motions. I have not been present. I have been selfish. I have been inattentive. This crest I find myself on has given me a kind of holistic view of the world. I can only see one way to proceed. I will not go down. I can see everything from up here. I think I will simply stay, enjoy, and learn.

Differences between 1 child or 3: Day 9

I found this today and cried laughing. Soooo Very True. Enjoy.

Your Clothes
-1st baby: You begin wearing maternity clothes as soon as your OB/GYN confirms your pregnancy.

-2nd baby: You wear your regular clothes for as long as possible.

-3rd baby: Your maternity clothes ARE your regular clothes.

The Baby’s Name
-1st baby: You pore over baby-name books and practice pronouncing and writing combinations of all your favorites.

-2nd baby: Someone has to name his or her kid after your great-aunt Mavis, right? It might as well be you.

-3rd baby: You open a name book, close your eyes, and see where your finger points.

Preparing for the Birth
-1st baby: You practice your breathing religiously.

-2nd baby: You don’t bother practicing because you remember that last time, breathing didn’t do a thing.

-3rd baby: You ask for an epidural in your 8th month.

The Layette
-1st baby: You pre-wash your newborn’s clothes, color-coordinate them, and fold them neatly in the baby’s little bureau.

-2nd baby: You check to make sure that the clothes are clean and discard only the ones with the darkest stains.

-3rd baby: Boys can wear pink, can’t they?

Worries
-1st baby: At the first sign of distress — a whimper, a frown — you pick up the baby.

-2nd baby: You pick the baby up when her wails threaten to wake your firstborn.

-3rd baby: You teach your 3-year-old how to rewind the mechanical swing.

Activities
-1st baby: You take your infant to Baby Gymnastics, Baby Swing, and Baby Story Hour.

-2nd baby: You take your infant to Baby Gymnastics.

-3rd baby: You take your infant to the supermarket and the dry cleaner.

Going Out
-1st baby: The first time you leave your baby with a sitter, you call home 5 times.

-2nd baby: Just before you walk out the door, you remember to leave a number where you can be reached.

-3rd baby: You leave instructions for the sitter to call only if she sees blood.

At Home
-1st baby: You spend a good bit of every day just gazing at the baby.

-2nd baby: You spend a bit of every day watching to be sure your older child isn’t squeezing, poking, or hitting the baby.

-3rd baby: You spend a little bit of every day hiding from the children.