I promise. It is coming.

The new blog, that is.

I've been designing it over and over in my mind. I hope to find more inspiration from some upcoming trips to the mountain. Yay!

Sammi is 4 months and ready for mountain daycare. Piper has taken the big chair lift up several times already this season with Cowboy. Momma is ready and chomping at the bit to get up on snow.

An aside, when not planning my new blog in my head, I am planning how I will manage getting two wee ones up and out to mountain daycare by myself since daddy has to boot up for ski patrol at 7 AM sharp. Goes something like, "Nurse Sammi in camper at 8:00 AM. Haul both girls and their stuff to mountain daycare from camper. Give self 30 minutes. Could take an hour. Drop off at daycare. Return to camper. Get my gear. Ski until 11. Nurse Sammi. Get Piper. Take a couple of runs with Piper. Get requisite hot cocoa. Pick up Sammi at 1. Wait! How do I get a baby in the Ergo, a three year old, their gear, my skis and Piper's skis back to the camper? Frick!"

I haven't had the balls to calculate how much we will pay in daycare fees so that I can ski for about an hour-and-a-half. I think it comes down to a dollar a minute.

An investment in the future, I guess.

In the meantime, here is a blurry photo of Sammi at 4 months. Snot dripping from nose (oh, the poor second child - no time for carefully crafted photos) included.

Milk does not do this body good

What is that old saying?

Something about making a plan and giving the Universe or God or whomever a laugh.

So after smuggly congratulating myself that I put up tons of food for the birth of my second child, it appears that said second child has a dairy intolerance. Not an allergy (yet) but she vomits copiously and has troubling digesting, and therefore expelling out the proper end.

Of course, nearly everything last thing I put up has cheese or milk in it.

But it is so heartbreaking to watch her struggle after I eat a serving of chicken linguine casserole - and I am committed to breast feeding her until two - so I am off the cow for now.

If anyone has suggestions for vegan cookbooks or resources or ways to replace items like butter with something else, I am all ears and eyes.

Cowboy is going to have fun eating all those lasagnas and chicken pot pies himself!

The only upside is how quickly the baby weight is coming off.

The Newest Little Mountain Girl

Samantha Mohr J.

Tuesday, November 2, 2010 @ 10:07 AM

8 lbs (!), 21 inches



Sammi is our Buddha baby. She's big and chunky and calm (so far). Nursing with no problem and is almost back to her birth weight.



Born the traditional route although I caved and requested (begged for) an epidural when I stalled out at 8 cm for 2 hours. For days following Sammi's birth, I would look at her and marvel at her size and still can't quite believe I delivered such a strapping baby.


We are home now and are navigating how to manage it all. Ever so grateful for my parents and Cowboy who are holding down the ship with Missy and household while I get my bearings.



Despite the trepidation and the stitches, I am so happy and blessed. When I started on this journey, I had no idea it would turn out so wonderfully. Now it is my time to just serve my family in gratitude for it all.

End Date

My due date is Nov. 5.

Despite being at 3 cm dilated, daughter #2 has not dropped. My OB estimates that the baby is 7 lbs and she does not want her to get much bigger.

I have a narrow pelvic opening courtesy of 2 lousy tailbone mishaps and there is a genuine issue of a "bigger" baby not making it through.

As such, we've been asked to come up with three dates next week to schedule an induction. Which means the "p-word" (pitocin), which I had hoped to avoid.

My OB says there is little risk of a c-section using pitocin on a 2nd baby when the first was delivered via the traditional route. I just really, really, really want a natural childbirth this time around and know that pitocin amplifies the contractions for momma and can stress out the baby. Leading to all sorts of rash decisions in a clutch.

I know this sounds incredibly silly and maybe a bit selfish. However, I am the kind of person who often sets physical goals for herself though, so the desire to deliver naturally is not entirely surprising.

I have vowed to keep a mental image in my head of the obscene amount of the money I wrote in the check to the doctor who performed my epidural the last time, which essentially cost $10 per minute of pain relief.

In the meantime, I have tried acupressure and acupuncture on the labor points to no avail. In fact, I have tried all the Old Wives methods, save for castor oil. Just can't go there.

Anyone know a good astrology source where I can find the best birthday for my little Scorpio-to-be?

No action yet (sigh)

The moon is full tonight.

The barometer has dropped so that now it is cold and raining. The first snows are predicted in the Cascades.

I have nested to the enth degree: floors cleaned and re-cleaned; rugs rolled up, sent to the cleaners and returned; blinds vacuumed. I even re-arranged the furniture in the living room in an attempt to bring on some labor action.

The freezer (and we have one that is big like a full-size refridgerator in our garage) cannot absorb one more food item. It is stocked to the gills with homemade chicken potpies, lasagnas, and - Missy's favorite - 70 lbs (!) of frozen blueberries from a local orchard. (We go through blueberries in this house like some toddlers roll through string cheese.) That this baby's due date coincided with the final harvests of the season is somewhat to blame. I think I have 12 full chickens and our Thanksgiving turkey in there, too.

The pantry is likewise: shelves of pasta, boxes of Annie's bunny crackers, bags of flour and sugar along with dozens of quarts of applesauce, nectarines, peaches and roasted tomatoes put up in the past 6 weeks.

Everything for baby has been (a) pulled out, (b) laundered, (c) put in its place. All the momma necessities I didn't plan for with Missy - breast milk storage bags? wtf? - are under the counter in the bath.

My bag is packed. But its contents are much different than the first time. Gone are the ipods, magazines and books. In their place is a breast pump, sterlized bottles for collecting colostorum and warm shirts and hats for the baby. Did I ever mention I forgot to pack clothing for Missy the first time around?

Everything that I wasn't prepared for with my first baby has been checked off the list.

Everything except for how agonizing and physically painful those last few weeks of pregnancy can be. I am generally not a whiner, least of all about physical pain, but - Good Lord Almighty!

By being born at 36 weeks, Missy spared me this final assault on my body. Her little sister, however, seems intent on picking up the slack.

I guess this is a precursor of life to come: what one doesn't teach and prepare me for, the other one will.

Bring it, girls, I think with a mixture of pleasure and ruefulness.

Beautiful Baby

Those were the exact words both the technician and the perinatologist used to describe Sissy at our 18-week ultrasound.

Those heady words still can't stop me from feeling guilty for feeding this baby more anti-nausea meds than food during her first four months in utero.

The nausea is mostly gone but I am still exhausted. I guess some recovery from a three-month long sickness is to be expected. Unfortunately, I put off a lot of client work until this month and now I am slammed. Don't know how I will do this with 2.

Exhale

Normal, healthy baby.

Bring on the fights about sharing clothes and a bathroom... another GIRL!

I am so relieved. I just about cried. I would have been happy with either gender but I secretly really, really, really wanted two girls.

Let's be really original and call her "Sissy."