a space for baby boy

Two years ago today was my due date for our first baby. A baby who came on her own time, a baby we named Isabelle. I won't talk about her birthday yet because that's for next week but today will always have a special place in my heart.

Now we have a new date to look forward to- for a new baby, a baby we haven't named yet. January 9th. Another special day.

Since the seasons are changing and Isabelle is growing at lightning speed, I've been packing away her old clothes and buying the next size up for her winter wardrobe. Usually I just buy girl things but I can't help sneak some boy things in there for the ninja. Shopping is really different for a boy than a girl- there just aren't as many options, and there are so many awfully cheesy items. I'm just not a cheese kind of person. My hair dresser asked me what the theme for the new nursery was and I said, "uh, blue and grey and yellow." She asked me if it was like trucks or sports or animals- of course nurseries have themes!

Mine don't. Sorry? Like it's just not my style and I'm sure there are some ADORABLE elephant themed rooms but we have chosen to do more simple things for our babes bedrooms, and also for their clothes. Girls have ruffles and buttons and all kinds of cute options for clothing, but boys really don't. BFFLeigh keeps sending me pictures of newborn outfits she finds saying, "Is this your style? Is this?"

I gravitate towards stripes. Navy blue, grey, white, certain greens. Nothing that has words on it. Few animals. Absolutely no sports-themed outfits or Disney icons. Prints are okay if they are subtle and calm. Again, I'm sure your kid looks great in them, it just isn't my thing. I know I can't control this forever, in fact, Isabelle often wants to wear her nikes with a dress or skirt... but for awhile, I'm in charge and I get to pick the clothes. And the room decor.

That's not to say Isabelle's room is boring, I think it's far from it- I love the white mixed with the colors, she loves her hanging mobile and she really does love to sleep in there. Mission accomplished. (See Isabelle's Nursery here.)

Here's what I'm thinking.

We purchased crib bedding from a local baby store a few weeks ago because 1) I loved it and 2) it was on sale. It's custom made (for a non-custom price!) and I didn't want anyone else to snatch it up. The fabric is grey and blue chevron sort of like this, but grey AND blue? I couldn't find a picture online so this is the closest.

I saw this dresser/changing table on etsy and about threw up. I love it. I'm thinking it will be nearly impossible to find in Redding, so we'll have to paint an existing piece. One option is to get a bigger dresser for Isabelle and paint the one we already have. Totally do able, right?

Rug. Nurseries need a rug in front of the crib. This one is actually affordable- from urban outfitters.

Wall art!

I love this mobile- made from paint sample thingys from Lowe's. I will change the colors a bit, but this is a must for above the crib.

And this is Olivia's male cousin Watson. Ohhhh I love it so much.

And I'm in the market for a new diaper bag. I've loved my petunia picklebottom- LOVED it. Can not recommend it more- I have literally worn holes in it. They've come out with a new line that is made with a more durable, waterproof material and I think I'm totally sold. Merry Christmas to me?

or

There is a big pile of baby boy things growing in our spare bedroom and I'm really feeling the need to get going on the nursery so I can feel organized. 14 weeks is going to go so quickly with our fun plans and the holidays coming up! (omg14weeks.)

I just re-read this post and I sound like such a snob. good job, micci, good job.

25 Weeks

25 weeks- 5/8ths of the way through.

It was a balmy 97 degrees today.. feels just like fall. Except that we are still in shorts and t-shirts and flip flops. This is part of the bargain you make when you live in California- sunny weather nearly year round, but a very short winter. Spring and Fall don't really exist, except that one day that all the leaves change color and fall off the trees. Does that count?

I don't think too much has changed over the past two weeks since I last updated about the pregnancy. The ninja continues to move a lot, though I can't remember if it is more or less than with Isabelle. Honestly, why didn't I write more things down, I swear my memory is horrible. I want to say we are getting closer with names, but really what I mean is that I am getting closer. Jazz is stuck on one name that I absolutely can not get on board with so while he simmers on that, I'm moving forward. (Love you. and no, I still don't like that name.) I like to do the baby blessing test. Like, in my mind I say the potential name like we would hear it in the baby blessing- first, middle, last....pause... and continue. Does it flow? Does it accidentally rhyme? Does it sound weird with any family member's names?

I'm feeling great. Actually, I slept so good last night that I woke up smiling. I still have intermittent bathroom breaks, but what pregnant women doesn't? It also could have been that Isabelle slept through the night after about an eight day hiatus, finally. She is so trixy. I can tell I'm bigger than two weeks ago- sometimes I put on clothes that I haven't worn for awhile and it's like whoa, that isn't gonna work, try again. Loving maternity pants- seriously I will be sad when it isn't acceptable for me to wear them anymore. Like sweatpants, but appropriate for public.

We had some pumpkin pie this week- first of the season. Oh man it tasted so good, I love pie. So now naturally I want pumpkin pie for every meal. And orange juice (Trop 50 is my favorite). And big deli sandwiches on sourdough, which is weird for me because sandwiches just aren't my thang. Unless they are tuna and we are on a boat, because that is totally different.

I have some projects going for the new nursery, but of course they are a few notches down the to do list since Isabelle's birthday is next week. I can't talk about it because I will totally cry I can't believe she is turning two- anyway- her party is a week from Saturday and I have some things to do for that. Not to mention, I'm bursting to put halloween up, but need to wait 'til after the party. And then do my Christmas shopping. THEN tackle the nursery stuff.

Weirdly pointing to the baby, but really just doing lobster hands.

14 Weeks with the Ninja

19 Weeks with the Ninja

23 Weeks with the Ninja

26 Weeks with Isabelle 

(a great picture of me with a really sweet haircut.)

piggies.

Since she has THIS much hair now:

we can do THIS:

PIGTAILS! yeah buddy!

I really wanted to get a picture of her in her church outfit because OMG denim dress + pigtails = amazing. But, by the time we got home from church (4:15) she was barely coherent. We literally had to stand her up on the bed while we changed her clothes into her softies so she wouldn't fall asleep before we got to my parents' for dinner. We made it to the driveway....success. Also, check out those cheeks. Wanna brush 'em with butter and bake 'em in the oven.

And after nap and dinner, what is better than a t-shirt-diapered-pigtailed baby.

"Maam, look at this giant stick that Grandpa gave me!"

In conclusion: pigtails are awesome. I love having a girl. Amen.

izzies favorites.

I'm sure you're aware of all the zillion fall shows back on tv this week. Our tivo is on EXPLOSION mode as it tries to keep up with our requests.. anyway, last night was the premier of grey's anatomy. (If you haven't seen it yet, this might be a slight spoiler alert, so beware.) Most of you probably don't care about the show so I won't go into detail BUT the end involved having to give their almost-adopted baby back to foster care while they worked out some problems.

Scene on tv: Mother of baby, holding baby, baby crying, baby being handed to case worker, mom trying not to freak out while calmly telling case worker a few of the baby's needs and favorites before she goes.

Scene at my house: TEARS. Lots and lots of TEARS.

There are so many quirks about Isabelle that really only a few key family members know about- it's probably one of the reasons why we have yet to hire a real babysitter... the list of instructions I would have to leave would be four hundred pages long. Typed.

Isabelle can not live without Olivia. It is imperative Olivia goes everywhere and does not get lost. Ever.
She takes milk before her nap and before bed time, in the red or blue sippy. ONLY those two.
She likes to wear her Nike's with her pajamas in the morning.
Don't let her see any snacks or drinks in the diaper bag or she will insist upon having them.
If she won't sleep, she wants back scratchies or to rockabye.
She won't nap until you have said an afternoon prayer on your knees next to the crib.
Also, she wants you to set the hanging lanterns swinging before you leave the room.
Do not pick her up right after she wakes up. She needs some acclimating time. This will make her grumpy indefinitely.
She does not take a paci.
If you lean in and say be soft, she will give you a "tiss" right on your mouth.
If she spits something out, she is done eating that particular food but not necessarily done with the meal.
Right before bath, she will use the restroom on the potty if encouraged. Otherwise, expect it in the tub.
She hates having her teeth brushed. Hates.
Oh, she won't nap with a ponytail in. She needs it out. And she needs comfy pants on. No shorts. No denim.
She won't wear bows. Don't try.
Also, she has four rotating blankies, any of them will work but she needs at least one to sleep.
Don't ever let her see you put Olivia in the washing machine.
She prefers the high chair tray on the second notch in, otherwise she will let you know it is too tight.
If she says "show" and "too," she wants to watch how to train a dragon with toothless, the dragon.
When she is really, really tired she is extremely giggly and ticklish right under her chin.
She hates motorized toys.
She also hates most dogs. Oh, and the garbage truck. And the disposal.

It's not like she's a diva, I think most of these are perfectly ordinary requests.. it's just we have taken two years to get to learn her preferences and maybe someday when she is 15 and hates me because I wont let her go to senior prom with an older boy I will remind her that her favorite thing used to be fiddling with the hair on her stuffed sailor doll.

typical pre-bed look:

Despite the appearance of sudden buck teeth, it's really just milk.

looking forward

I know a lot of women have c-sections, and it is a wonderful technological advance, many women would die without it. If I lived in the pioneer days, I might have died. My baby might have died.

The first month of Isabelle’s life I spent recovering. I needed help lifting things, getting in and out of bed, holding the car seat, walking long distances. As far as recoveries go- I think mine was about as standard as they get- as good as I could hope for considering the giant incision and trauma my body had been through. I enjoyed my newborn every bit as I could, she was so little and healthy and perfect.

But it hurt. I don’t think anyone will tell you that major abdominal surgery is a breeze. For a short time, Jazz would have to come around to my side of the bed and physical lift me up while I cried because using certain muscles was so painful. There were times when the thought of walking to the bathroom was so daunting, I didn’t want to go. There were things that I missed because I was immobile or on drugs or just not able to participate in. I missed her first bath. I missed changing her diaper the first day or so. I missed being able to pick her up in the night when she cried- I had to have someone there to hand her to me. These things may seem trivial to some, but to me I felt less than equal, and I hated that.

None of this tarnished the bonding or the instant love I had for Isabelle. Every moment spent with her was perfection to me- she was so incredibly perfect. Waking in the night was a privilege and sometimes me and Jazz would look at each other and say “should we wake her up so we can play with her?” I loved bathing her in the sink (eventually) and putting her weak little arms into her onesie sleeves I had embellished for her. Her tiny meow cries were priceless, her every facial expression soaked up, every noise appreciated. I would have ten c-sections to have another baby, every bit of it was so, so, so worth it.

I didn’t tell people I had a c-section unless they asked. I didn’t want them to know that I had a giant FAILURE sign stamped right on my fore head. I know I didn’t fail- I KNOW THAT. But to me, that’s how it felt. Like I wanted into this great exclusive club and I was on the waiting list for 9 months and when I got to the top of the list, I was skipped over and sent home.

So I started reading. I started reading about rising c-sections and why they happen and how to avoid them. A checklist was given of what not to do if you want to have a regular birth. I hit every point, to me I had done everything “wrong.” I was induced. I had an epidural. I didn’t labor at home. I didn’t wait long enough. I waited too long. My doctor feared a large baby- when Isabelle was a petite 7 pounds 4 ounces. We did learn that her body was twisted and she was posterior, meaning she was facing the wrong way, her head was tilted and wasn’t causing me to dilate.

Was that because I was induced? Because of the epidural? Maybe Isabelle never would have turned the correct way? I don’t know. I can speculate and ask ‘what if’ all day long, but it can’t be changed and I’ve accepted the way everything happened. I don’t know why it happened, but I know it was for a reason.

I assumed I could try for a different birth experience the next time around. When I had healed, when we were ready, we would have another baby and everything would be different.

Then, unexpectedly- we moved to Redding, where we currently live. I searched for an OB who would do a VBAC with me (vaginal birth after cesarean). I found none. I learned that because of hospital regulations in this area, there are zero VBACs allowed. NONE. There are a bunch of reasons why, and I won’t go into them now, some are political and some are because of money and insurance, but it doesn’t matter. Bottom line, I can’t have a VBAC in Redding. (Unless I choose to have a home birth, which is not something I personally feel comfortable with.)

The closest hospital that will take me as a VBAC patient is in Davis, which is a three hour drive from my house. Three hours! It may seem far- and it is far, especially with the labor game when we don’t know where or when or how things will happen. This is what I know so far.

I have an OB here in Redding who is willing to work with me until my 8th month of pregnancy. He does not see any reason why I wouldn’t be able to have a trial of labor in a different hospital. I have been referred to UC Davis Women’s Center for Health, where their hospital allows and encourages VBACs. I have an appointment in November, a VBAC consultation, to set up our schedule of weekly visits towards that last month of pregnancy and discuss how this will work with me living 3 hours away. I’ve been told that at some point, I’ll have to stay in the area for the remainder of my pregnancy, I’m not sure how that will go or when that will be.

Let me just clarify. This is no guarantee that I will not have a c-section, and I know that. I may labor and labor and have the same problem with this baby and will eventually have to have a c-section. I feel like I have to do everything in my power, everything that my body can do to have a regular birth, and if that doesn’t work out, it will not be because I didn’t try. I feel like if I don’t try now, with this baby, I may never get the chance.

I do know that every birth is different. Every mother has different expectations and ideas. I know many women who have been perfectly happy with their cesarean births and wouldn’t have it any other way. I also know women who have had horrific and very scary vaginal births as well. There are definite risks either way I go at this point- and things we are discussing and praying about as a family. This is not a decision to be made lightly, and I understand that.

That being said, we are moving forward with hopeful hearts and daily prayers that I will have a different experience the second time around. I’m feeling very optimistic about it right now- and really excited for what lies ahead. Regardless of the method of delivery, we are all overjoyed with bringing a new spirit into our home and into our family and can’t wait to meet baby boy.

looking back.

This is one of those posts that has been writing itself in my brain for about two years. This will not be a short post. Probably no pictures. Just so you’re warned. Also there will be references to lady parts and centimeters and labor so if this is not your thing, do not proceed.

I've been thinking a lot about this boy baby flipping around in my stomach, and eventually he has to come out. It's a little early to be thinking about that, but for me it is taking a lot of research and planning and eventually lots of time spent driving. Here's why.

As you may remember, my labor with Isabelle was less than ideal. Well, it was less than MY ideal labor and delivery- the bottom line is she was born healthy and safe and because of that I am very grateful. I was overdue, miserable, uncomfortable, and disappointed I had seen nary a sign of imminent labor. At my last appointment, my doctor was sympathetic to my pleading and since I was measuring bigger than I should have, set up an induction for the following Sunday. I was thrilled that at last there was some plan in place naming the date and time we would get the show on the road.

I was 40 weeks 5 days when I arrived at the hospital, bags packed and full of excitement for what was to come. I was dilated to two centimeters, so we skipped cervadil in favor of good ol’ pitocin- the hard stuff. I spent the morning laboring, watched general conference, and anxiously discussed things with Jazz. He held my hand and talked to me and when he went to lunch, rushed back to be with me for my epidural. Pitocin has a nasty habit of making contractions stronger and faster than your body naturally does, so things got intense faster than I anticipated. Secretly I was happy I was in pain because it meant things were happening and I was progressing. Epidural placed, water broken, and then we waited.

Every 30 minutes or so, my nurse would come in and up my dosage of pitocin. Max pitocin at my hospital was about 35 mu/minute, and I remember looking at the monitor and realizing I was maxing out quickly.

2 pm. I was checked. I was 4 cm dilated.

4 pm. I was checked again. I was still 4 cm dilated. I cried.

6 pm. I was checked. I was still 4 cm dilated. My doctor came in and started dropping the ‘c-section’ bomb. We agreed to give my body more time. So I shifted positions frequently... My epidural was extremely heavy, I could not feel my legs or move around at all.

8 pm. I was checked again. I know my nurse wanted to desperately tell me that I had progressed, that I was further, and that I was off the c-section hook… but again, I was 4 cm dilated. My doctor came in again and we talked options. Because I had been at 4 cms for 8 hours, he explained that something was prohibiting my body from progressing further. He thought Isabelle was going to be a very large baby, and maybe my body couldn’t handle her. I begged for a few more hours to progress on my own before the final call was made, and he consented. I texted my family and asked them to pray that I would dilate. I cried. Jazz held my hand and wiped my tears and told me that I was doing a good job even though I felt like I was seriously failing at the most important job I had been given.

At 11, my doctor came in to check me. I knew I hadn’t progressed, but he checked me anyway and I was still at 4 cms. Not even 4+. Still a solid 4 cms. The facts were that I had been laboring for 16 hours with minimal progress on maximum pitocin, Isabelle was starting to show stress due to the large contractions being thrown her way every minute or so, and my body was beginning to swell in places that should not have been swelling. I consented to the c-section. I sobbed when they brought the papers in for me to sign. I sobbed when I squiggled some sort of illegible signature allowing them to cut open my abdomen and pull out my baby for me.

I cried when they prepped me. I cried when Jazz put on his blue suit. I felt so out of control of my own body, so frustrated that I couldn’t fix my own problem. I did have some sense to powder my nose before going to the operating room, I remember thinking how stupid I looked with my compact out dusting makeup on my horribly swollen and red face.

I was wheeled into the OR, given a huge dose of anesthesia in my epidural, and before I knew it, Isabelle was lifted over the blue curtain, purple and wiggly and perfect. They took her to the warmer and I heard her cry for the first time. I had heard lots of babies cry before- little ones and big ones but as soon as I heard her voice I knew she was mine, like she was always mine. She was wrapped up and brought to Jazz and he held her by my face so I could kiss her. Pictures were taken. I was sewn up. I was shakey, but not sick. I was happy she was here and it was over and she was healthy.

I was wheeled back to my labor room and it was weird to me that just an hour previous, I was sitting in the same room with a baby in my tummy, and now she was sitting next to me. Just like that. I called my family. And my best friend. Actually, Jazz called my family for me because I felt so defeated that I had a c-section, I felt ashamed that I failed and I didn’t want my mother to hear that in my voice.

Jazz took her for her first bath and got her cleaned up and she came back with a purple bow on her fuzzy head. Jazz told me he got to pick it out and he thought that purple would be my first color choice. He was right. He is so thoughtful. He showed me pictures of her crying under the water facet while they scrubbed her little body.

Just typing this makes me so weepy, those first moments when you bring a baby into your family are so sacred and so special, it’s been two years but I remember how her wrinkled feet felt and the way her lips didn’t quite close when she slept.

The rest of my hospital stay was wonderful. My mom came. She held me and I cried. She told me what I good job I did and that Isabelle was perfect and healthy and she was proud of me. It was just what I needed to hear. It took a team to get Isabelle nursing, and we worked on that. We slept. We watched pride and prejudice. One of us blacked out in the shower, no names. We were released, and then we were home.

I sat in the back seat next to Isabelle while Jazz drove 15 mph the whole way home. My mind was blown that suddenly there was a human being that needed me. I was no longer pregnant. But also, I really didn’t feel like I delivered my own baby.

To be continued.

23 Weeks

It feels nice to be 23 weeks. Charging through the second trimester. Technically, I will be six months pregnant on Monday. I don’t feel six months pregnant. But I certainly feel chunky. Pregnant face is starting to rear its ugly head and I have noticed my cheeks turn into jowls and my chin multiply to plural.

Lots to report. The Ninja has been moving a lot, though I haven’t pinned down “active times” and “sleepy times” probably because I’m not paying great attention as I chase my current child through the aisles of target. That baby can RUN. My aversion to sweets is mostly gone, in fact Jazz can testify that I ate my way through a small batch of caramel popcorn last night. Salty + sweet = perfect combination right now. Cake still does not interest me in the slightest. I’m hungry all the time, but I have really tried not to stuff my face around the clock. We all know where that got me the last time…GINORMICA. It was about this time last pregnancy that I had the notorious Nine Pound Month Checkup with my OB, but I’m happy to report that I have gained less than nine pounds total this pregnancy. (I’m at seven? I think?)

No swelling, no reflux, but some achy bones, as my pelvis unhooks itself again. But I am sleeping great at night, I have this awesome rotation from side to side that is actually really comfortable at this point. I love to sleep. Bless Jazz for “liking” sleeping on a slivery edge of our king size bed.

We have also brought up the name discussion- and can I say that naming a child is just hard. The names we had before suddenly don’t fit very well and we can’t agree on anything new. Nothing fits, and I don’t think anything will until the ninja is born but I’d like to be prepared with a few contenders. With Isabelle, we had two or three names that we liked and once we saw her we just felt she was an Isabelle. I’m hoping it goes the same way the second time around.

At least once a day I turn to Jazz and say, “I can’t believe we are having a boy.” Not in a bad way, we are both excited, just stunned. I don’t know boy things. I never had a younger brother, and I never had an older sister, so both of my kids will have different experiences than I did. Exciting. I bought crib bedding yesterday and as I set it in the spare room, it hit me that room was going to be a space for a boy. Blue and gray and yellow, for a boy!

Isabelle’s two-year molars are coming in and she hasn’t been very pleasant to be around. And by that I mean we had to flee Target like it was Egypt yesterday so I didn’t get any more judgmental eyeballing from strangers as my child screamed from the cart. Anyway, when we got home she asked me to rock her to sleep for her nap and so I did. I held her and held her, my 23-month old baby girl, not realizing I was also rocking my 23-week gestating baby boy. I felt so blessed and so special and so loved I almost exploded. I have a great life.



19 Weeks with The Ninja

14 Weeks with The Ninja

22 Weeks with Isabelle

pink garage vomit.

Well isn't this just a bit ridiculous. The bins on the floor are all of Isabelle's outgrown clothes/shoes/hats etc. The clothes on the bed are for the new baby, some from Izzie's pile, some new from our trip last weekend. I finally went through all of her stuff and organized it into newborn/0-3 month/3-6 month etc piles. As I pulled out her tiny outfits I nearly cried my eyeballs out remembering what she wore her first few weeks and how she felt and how she smelled. Am I the only crazy bat that is so sentimental about these things? It's really bad. Pregnant hormones aren't helping.

Sometimes when I am feeling REALLY nostalgic I look through photos from her first year and she looks so different but also the exact same. Her face is changing and she is looking more like a little kid and less like a baby and it is KILLING me because I want to freeze time for just a little while or at least slow it down.

She is like my little buddy now, she listens and responds and says stuff back to me and sometimes when I look in my rear view mirror and see her in her car seat I still can't believe she is all mine. Like, she has been with me on this earth for almost two years and we have managed to feed her and bathe her and keep her entertained and so far she seems to be enjoying it. She seems so tall and so agile and so particular in her personality, it's hard to remember her as a sleepy newborn at all.

AGAIN, NEED TO FREEZE TIME.

I've mentioned before that her vocabulary is expanding exponentially, and everyday she says something new. Today it was the word "pooh." As in, pointed to her diaper and proclaimed her business. Her voice is so sweet it almost made me laugh to hear her say it. She also knows a lot of animal sounds and her favorite is BAAA for a sheep, which she often yells out loud for no particular reason. She skips and jumps and gets so excited to see her friends, like Griff and Charlotte and Madilyn. She calls Madilyn by her middle name, June, and I have no idea where she picked that up. She grabs the phone and says "June? June?" Like she wants me to call her and invite her over. She also knows Jazz is at "work" every day and when asked about Grandpa, she states he is on his "boat." Of course.

Our swimming days are coming to a close, the water is becoming colder and honestly I'm not sure how much longer my swim suit will fit me.

She did this all by herself, insists that I don't help her. She likes snacks on the lid sometimes.

And this is when she tried to sit in the doll stroller. In case you are wondering, it did not hold.

Isabelle in doll stroller, take one- February 2010, four months old

Did your heart just LEAP OUT OF YOUR CHEST like mine did? Name one thing cuter. I dare you.

One of her many glorious hand selected outfits. Nap hair, yoga pants, and our rain slicker. And Olivia, of course.

See the mirror on the floor? It used to hang above her changing table until she KICKED IT DOWN. Now it rests on the carpet, which honestly she prefers because she can parade around in front of it. Oh, how I love this child.

san francisco treat

A few weeks ago my friend Lanece texted me and was all "LET'S GO TO SAN FRANCISCO!" and I was all "YEAH THAT SOUNDS AWESOME!" So we did. We spent all Labor Day weekend exploring the city and eating as much food as we possible could. I have to say- this was our first non-family friend trip and we had a fantastic time.

We did some touristy things, like Lombard Street:

And stopped at Boudin's to eat on the Wharf. Btw, their crab mac and cheese is straight from heaven.

Isabelle being coy. The weather was glorious- 60 to 70 ish, chilly at night, so perfect.

Meet the McDonalds! They are so easy going, we had such a great time with them. Griffin is nearly three and Isabelle loves to play with him.

We shopped at the wharf and bough matchy owl hats for our babies, not that either of them wanted to wear them, but whatever. 

On Sunday, we went to the Bay Area Discovery Museum on the other side of the Golden Gate. If you are down in that area and want something fun for your kids to do- go visit. We loved it- they had all these buildings set up with different activities for the kids to do. It is geared more towards the younger crowd so everything was Isabelle's height and learning level. One room was like a softie room, everything was padded so they could run around crazy. Despite her face, Iz loved it.

Crawling through a tunnel has never been so fun.

So proud of herself.

The best part was the view- it was amazing. This was literally taken in the parking lot of the museum, great location.

And of course, my SF bff Leigh came to play. Iz loves her auntie leigh.

We went back to the wharf to go to Ghirardelli and scored free parking so we stayed a bit. Lanece and I both got the Sea Salted Caramel Hot Chocolate and I'm not kidding when I say I would sell my soul for a vat of that stuff, it was so delicious. We also got ice cream because we needed it, of course.



And what's a trip to the city without stops at IKEA and Union Square? We loaded the car so tight, Jazz was stuffed in the back seat with all of our purchases.

Speaking of purchases, can I just say how WEIRD it is to be buying for a boy? I'm so used to pink and ruffles that I naturally gravitate to that side of the store. I had to mentally stop myself and switch sides so we could get some things for the new baby. I'm very picky about clothes, especially boys, I just can't do the themed outfits or the stuff that says "Daddy's Little Slugger." I'm sorry, it just isn't my thing. I know I can't control it forever, eventually he will want a shirt with a truck on it and I'll give in but FOR NOW we bought lots of soft onesies and sleepers. As I was taking the tags off, I just kept thinking, "I can't believe it's a boy, I can't believe it's a boy."

Did I tell you how we finally found out? After we had our initial ultrasound and we weren't able to find the gender, Jazz used his magic powers at work and got me an ultrasound a few days later. Which was also inconclusive. So we waited a week and tried again. ALSO INCONCLUSIVE. On our fourth try I was almost expecting to hear "welp, legs are crossed again!" but immediately within five seconds the tech had a very, very conclusive shot for us. It's a boy. We were both shocked. And elated.

ANYWAY, this post is about our trip to San Francisco and somehow got to ultrasounds. The weekend getaway was a perfect retreat- weather was sooo nice and our company couldn't have been better. Can't wait to do it again... maybe Portland?

Other highlights include:
          -Lanece slide-falling between the mattress and the wall
          -Mexican food in the basement of Union Square Macy's. (who knew!?)
          -Tyler introducing us to the most addictive Swedish candy in creation
          -Isabelle expanding her vocabulary by about five words
          -Waffles at our continental breakfast
          -Griffins random bloody nose
          -Scoring brand new black patent Dankos at the rack for 46 dollars
          -Reading The Help on the drive
       

Gender Update!

After four ultrasounds and a little patience, we were able to finally find out that our second baby will be a BOY! Exclamation point!