I normally have very fragmented, crazy dreams, but for both of my pregnancies the odd, fantastic, and fear laden nightmares are near constant.

Last night I dreamed I was 10 days overdue with this child, yet had a baby bump about the size of the one I have now.  Meaning nearly NO bump.  I was at someone’s wedding, and I was now 3 weeks overdue.  All of a sudden I was at a library, pitch black,  and was engaged in a “Hunger Games” with current students of mine, all hell bent on killing me and my baby.  If you havnen’t read The Hunger Games this is a survival battle to the death.  It was either sacrifice all of my students or be killed myself in the black-out library.  SO WEIRD.  I woke up before anyone was killed.  I still shudder.

If I was going to play dream interpreter I would say I always have  ”Is there a baby in there” fears until my belly is big.

The Hunger Games part- well I did I just read that and I suppose teaching (and ALL work)  at times feels like a “battle” of sorts.  Sometimes you feel like your professional career suffers from your personal life, or vice versa.

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CLIMBER!  Now that Shiloh has mastered walking, it’s time for a new craze.  She climbs on top of everything!  I just caught her doing this as I am typing.

Diapers? MOUNTAIN.

Shiloh dreams, and she dreams of tall, tall hills to surmount. 

 She is battling a cold right now and she is extra snuggly today.  The one good thing about a sick child is all the snuggles.

I actually died.  I am now a ghost writer.  (pun intended)

“”"Anyone in their later twenties remember the show Ghostwriter????  I freakin’ LOVED thats show.

We decided to meet at Whole Foods today; I arrived and searched for the two of them among the aisles.  We rendez-vouzed in the bulk aisle section, and as Shiloh turned around and saw me, she seemed in utter shock that her MOMMY was HERE!  I squealed and jumped up and down, and she did the same in her seat up front in the cart.  She wouldn’t even sit in the cart anymore and I had to hold her.  She was so happy to “find” me.

I wonder if that’s what she thought.  That I magically showed up and it was just a chance meeting. 

How magical the world is when you’re so uninformed.

Thank you for this adorable photo, Auntie Heather!

My grandmother is a stoic woman, a woman that lives to keep her family safe and has always valued honestly and blunt reality over sugar coating.  I have come to truly appreciate that in her and have always really enjoyed seeing her evolve into something of a softie in her twilight years (this is a relative term ;0) ) 

In short, I adore her and treasure every moment I have had and will have with her. 

Shiloh has brought out something I haven’t really seen in my grandmother till now.  Jackie is all smiles from ear to ear the whole time we visit ( I try as often as I can, about once a month or so).  She sings her songs and teaches her little things.  I see the mother in my grandma, something she MUST have done for me, but I never looked at it that way as a girl.  Furthermore, she was a major caregiver for me, a very different role than just a doting great-grandmother.  She doesn’t have to worry about disciplining, and can just enjoy her red-headed granddaughter.

The last time I was over there was about a month ago.  It was that afternoon that it hit me like a ton of bricks just how special this moment was that I was experiencing. 

This woman, so important and formative to me, was able at the age of 88 to pick up my child, place her so hilariously on her walker, and wheel her around and around the kitchen at break neck speeds for an 88 year-old.  Shiloh was in stitches and I just couldn’t get over my grandmother having such playful FUN at a time in her life when pain rules all.  I was giddy. 

I just couldn’t wipe the smile off my face.  It was a moment forever frozen in time for me.  I know Jackie can’t be here forever as much as my heart will burst the day she leaves us.  But this memory will make that day that much more bearable. 

That day I will close my eyes and see her, with a devilish grin on her face, wheeling my child briskly around the always-present round kitchen table.  That image will get me through.

Losing her husband in her fifties, I am not sure how much "fun" she had in her life after that. Here, she's having fun. That I am sure.

Did he/she move?!  I swear to god I felt it today.  I have been “feeling” it but knowing that it was a muscle spasm here or there.  But today, I don’t know.  I think it was that fluttery popcorn feeling from early on last time (with Shiloh I felt her at 16 weeks).

It feels real today.

*Shiloh fell asleep in my arms after story time this evening.  Sigh.

I have an extra day off today, and that’s 24 hours more with my giggly, kissy, huggy gal. 

Shiloh was not an affectionate baby.  She never held her arms out, or wanted to just be in my arms. 

Over the last few weeks Shiloh is evolving into SUCH a love muffin. 

This morning, I grabbed her out of her crib and started to change her diaper.  Shi grabbed the wipes and held them up.  She looked at them with awe and brought them into her chest for a hug,  She promptly hugged the wipes and said, “Awwwww, day-dee”.  She proceeded to repeat these steps with her sippy cup and her yogurt.  Then, best of all, ME.

I get constant hugs and kisses (on the lips, no less).  She reaches for the dog for affection and loves any and all objects that are soft or are familiar to her. 

I hope this hints at a very sweet dispostion for life.  I want hugs from my 5 year old, 15 year old, and 45 year old!

Shiloh is about 16 months and as we allow her to do more “big kid” things like occasionally staying up till 9 or so with the adults for a family party, it’s oddly affecting her.  Or, if I pay attention to research, it’s not so odd.

We went away last weekend for a wedding, and after a bedtime of 9 (normally 7) Shiloh woke up in PANIC and HYSTERICS at 11:30.  It took me a half an hour just to stop the weeping, and then had to listen, with pangs in hy heart, to the wimpers that long outlast a good loud sob.  You know, when they breathe in little at a time like it’s hard to get breath.  Sigh.

Yesterday, I took Shiloh to a baby shower for one of my very besties, the gorgeous Jessica from A Mountain Bride (just recently named top 100 wedding blogs- yay!)  We had a great time, but no nap.  Morning or night!  Then we had to rush over to my nephew’s hockey game at 5:50, because we never get a chance to see a game he is in that’s close enough to go.  That was great! 

 After, we headed over to my sister in law’s for pizza and football, Shiloh in her pajamas, fawned over by her cousins.  We headed home around 8:30.  Shi never once seemed cranky and fell asleep in the car immediately.  We placed her quietly in her crib when we got home and she snuggled in. 

11 o’clock:  SCREAMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMM.  Like, blood curdling. I went to her, rocked her, she calmed down and back to bed.

1 o’clock:  LOUDER SCRREEEEAAMMMM.  Bill ran in to get her and there just was no calming her.  We tucked her in between us in bed and for at least an hour she did the “after sob” wimpers.  I stayed half awake all night as she tossed and turned and cried out every so often.  She just kept clinging to Billy and to me in turn. 

Schedules, people. They are no joke, huh?

The poor girl is suffering from being overtired I am guessing?  Both of these instances she was not able to even nap in the day.

So what’s the answer?  Never deviate from routine?  Or, just take the good with the bad so you child can take part in family fun on occasion?  I write this having 3 hours of sleep, maybe. 

Peace out while I make coffee.

Admittedly, not findng out Shiloh’s gender was difficult.  I really enjoyed the fun of not knowing, but it was so damn tempting!! Yet for all the temptation, never would I take back that, that anticipation of “Who exactly am I meeting so soon?”  When the doctor said, “it’s a girl!” and my first test of instinct was proven correct.  I will always be able to recall that feeling of finding out Shiloh was….well, Shiloh.  Pure joy.

This time around I have a very strong inkling out this child will come with different parts than Shiloh.  It’s not the KNOWING I felt the first time, but a very steady voice in my head that says this baby is a he.  Billy says he has never been more certain about anything.  That makes me nervous, but I do now it doesn’t matter a stitch to either of us.  But, a boy.

A boy!

I have a girl and I LOVE girls.  Would be thrilled to have another.

But I do know that having a little boy in our family would be a different type of thrill.  A totally different experience and, holy hell,  boys are so aDORable! My nephew Jack was the absolute sweetest boy, so sweet he called the women in his life names such as, “my beauty” or “my princess”.  This was at the age of 5.  A-DOR-able.  I tend to connect more easily with my male students, so I know that I would handle the teenage boy alright (it’s the girls that should make me huddle in the fetal position around their 14th birthday). 

I fell in love with my man when he was only 7, and to have a little boy that is half as sweet, kind, but confident as BillyBoy Cosmo (hubby) was…well, let’s just say I may have a crush on my own son.

Will I wait till the end to find out this time?  Ehhhhh……no.

Not because I can’t stand the suspense again, but if this babyloo is a girl then the stuff we need to prepare is quite minimal.  But, if it’s a boy then, since a second shower is a faux pas, we would have to slowly acquire boy clothes and the like.  I have far too many pink jammies and outfits to pass them off to a little boy.  As progressive as I may be, I am just not going to do it.

So in roughly one month Baby P #2 will have a gender!  I feel oddly like I’m cheating!

I just read through a thread over at Molly’s These Little Moments blog about the omnipresent debate over public nursing.  I won’t rediscuss those issues, although of course I advocate any public feeding of your child, bottle or breast. 

My point in mentioning it is that it made me think about my exciting opportunity to get another go at it.  The first few frustrating days when you only have colostrum.  The scary, painful, but exhilarating moment when your breast becomes tight with milk.  The evolution of your bond that makes nursing effortless within a month or two.  The tiny hand resting on your as your child is nourished from your own energy.  It’s magic.

What else is coming again?

Those firsts.  That first beaming smile, roll over, bite of peas.  Yet while it will all be a “second” time for me, all of these experiences are likely to be completely different. 

Not only will they be a bit easier for me, but Shiloh will be by my side wanting to either help or begging for my full attention.  I may have a little ginger haired gal climbing all over me while I feed the new baby.  The baby’s first Halloween costume will be photographed in his or her sister’s arms. 

Then the first for Shiloh:  When people ask me, “how’s the baby”, they won’t mean her.

……

Gulp.