The Double Team

Nights like last night make having another baby seem utterly foolish, in a take-your-tongue-and-stretch-it-over-your head kind of way.

Jamie has that zombie rattle cough that seems to be going around lately. I think he caught it from a preemie friend of ours, who definitely isn't big enough to handle being a zombie. He's in the hospital with it. Every time I hear my healthy six year old struggle with the congestion in his lungs, I worry and pray for the tiny non-zombie doing the same thing over at Children's hospital. I'm so glad we didn't give it to him...that would make me feel even more like a zombie mom than I already do.

Charlie isn't a fan of zombie brothers and their incessant hacking. Last night was a race to see who could get to mom and dad's bed first. Jamie slept on our floor so he wouldn't bother Charlie in their bedroom, but then Charlie wanted in on the fun too (it was 1am when he decided to pull the "this isn't fair" routine, does he have sibling radar?), so then we tried to put him back in his own bed. That went over about as well as you would expect a second-born to react to being left out. Charlie screamed bloody murder for over an hour, and was inconsolable. Then he was complaining of his legs hurting. Growing pains? So we massaged his legs and sang to him. He finally gave up and went to sleep around 3:15am... approx 45 minutes before Jim had to get up for work. What in the world would you do with a newborn in the midst of that sort of midnight circus?

I love snuggling with my boys in the morning. They like to slip into bed with me after their daddy leaves to work. Sometimes they tell me stories, or whisper secrets. Sometimes we sing songs or pray. Sometimes they drag me out of bed for food...and sometimes they bring the food to me and I prop open an eyeball to find cheerios raining down on my sheets.

But lately it's become a competition. Their morning ritual has started happening at 5 am, then 4 am, then 3 am, now 2 am... We've got two stubborn children fighting over blankets, mattress real-estate and pillow privileges. Not cool. I don't know if it's because Jamie was sick, or if this is the new "normal", but it's stopping tonight. I wish they could just enjoy the morning tradition without ruining the whole thing. That or we need a bigger bed.

Charlie got all his curls chopped off. *sniff sniff* I'm trying to be ok with it, but I miss the old mop.

I had forgotten...

I had forgotten that Star Tours at Disneyland made me toss my cookies when I was a child.

I was reminded of this insignificant memory when I took my kids to the science center yesterday for one of those "dome" Imax experiences. My kids (who can't sit still through even their favorite episode of Mickey Mouses) were enthralled. I on the other hand, made several frantic trips to the bathroom. All that videography of zooming over mountain tops and running through forests made me realize chasing boys around a park is much easier than I'd previously been giving it credit. At least your feet are firmly planted on the ground.

And then all those mind tricks in the space center. You know, the ones where you sit in a chair, and look in a mirror and it appears like you're floating upside down or something. The scientific explanation on the dutiful placard is lost as my kids race to see what crazy thing the next exhibit will do. They're like a dog team, exuberantly dragging their poor, broken sled along with them. For me it was a game to see how many optical illusions my body can handle before my three month long bout of food poisoning sends me frantically looking for the closest food repository station again.

Jamie calls his new sibling "chicken nugget". Very confusing when he tells the cashier "my mom throws up all the time because of the chicken nugget." He points and grins, while the cashier looks at me like I'm a walking billboard against eating McDonalds. Whatever the case, it's better than when Jamie didn't know and was only telling everyone "my mom throws up all the time." And I got the "Oh honey, here's a pamphlet on eating disorders."

When people ask if we are going to find out if it's a boy or a girl...we laugh. We want to know so badly, I think both of us are in denial we even have a baby until it has a name. Our big 20 week "anatomy ultrasound" is January 10th. But Jim keeps sending me ultrasound deals that I've already secretly researched myself. Has anyone tried those? Are they accurate? I'm not sure I will believe anyone but a doctor.

Jim is hoping for a girl, Jamie is positive it's a girl, and I'm pretty sure it's a boy. I keep having dreams that it's a boy and I find myself almost buying cloth diapers in boy colors before I remember to stop myself.

And that's the big news in the Ramsey household. I technically hit the second trimester last Saturday, but I still don't feel one whit pregnant. Just crazy.