When pregnant or raising a newborn, a lot of people try to warn you about things. Things such as "You will never sleep again!" or "Just wait until they're 2!" Etc. etc.

However, people don't warn you about a lot of things I wish I had known.

Recently I discovered a new issue no one has ever warned us about - disgusting neck smell.

Lately, Baby D's neck has taken on the stench of mummified poop. It's embarrassing. We noticed it the other night after day care, and were mortified that the people looking after Baby D have probably been talking about how gross she smells. She had just been bathed, too! And we specifically got into her neck folds. It wasn't good enough, though, because this disgusting neck smell returns almost immediately.

We washed her neck out really well after noticing the stench. Then Mr. D's mom came to babysit the other night and gave Baby D another bath because she said her neck smelled really bad. I couldn't believe it.

After some googling, I discovered we are most definitely not alone in this problem and have found some ways to help ease the stench. It's believed to be caused by milk and saliva dribbling down into the deep crevices of a baby's non-existent neck. We're trying to wipe her neck down after every feeding now, and I'm putting baby powder in her cavernous neck folds in an attempt to keep them dry and smell-free. I think it's working so far.

We could start giving her more baths, but she already has really really dry skin so I don't want to resort to bathing her every day. But I'm still embarrassed that her day care teachers probably noticed the smell. I'm here to tell you all that if your baby has this horrible stench emanating from their neck, they are not alone.

Wow, I am really horrible at updating this blog, aren't I?

But that's a good thing. I am so busy with life that I don't have time! This coming from an Internet addict.

Baby D keeps us so busy. She is getting bigger and cuter and smarter every day. It truly is amazing. She is smiling now, and doing what WE refer to as "laughing," although technically it's more of a happy coo. She'll smile super big and make a noise when she's doing it. That counts as laughing, right?

Naturally she can do no wrong in our eyes. She is as perfect as a peach. Even earlier today, when she was so tired but refusing to sleep, instead choosing to scream and scream and SCREAM! I just held her and rocked her and told her there was nothing I'd rather be doing than holding her while she screamed. It's an honor to hold her, even when my eardrums start to bleed - haha!

As hard as it is to have her in day care, I really think she enjoys it and it's helped her to get on more of a schedule. I can't wait to get off work at the end of the day and pick her up. I even get a smile sometimes when she sees me! What a big girl.

That's all for now, the peach just woke up and wants a late lunch!

On Tuesday, I go back to work.

I have no idea how six weeks passed so quickly!! It's insane. I want to badly to stay home with Baby D, but it's just not possible right now. It makes me sick to think about other people taking care of her. Thinking about how they don't know what makes her stop crying. Thinking about her being confused, wondering where mommy and daddy are and why they've left her! Ugh, I'm going to cry just thinking about it. Again. I've cried a lot about it.

She has a hard time taking a bottle, because I've been breast feeding her this entire time. She won't even take a pacifier, hasn't since we left the hospital. She hates plastic in her mouth! So anytime we try to give her a bottle, she makes an awful face and spits it out, even though it's filled with breast milk. She wants it from the source! I know she'll have a hard time taking it at day care. Everyone has said "Oh, if she's hungry, she'll eat!" Then why doesn't she eat now? No matter how hungry she is she won't take the bottle, she'll just scream and cry until her ol' pal the boob comes along. So what makes it different just because she'll be in day care? Nothing. So she'll scream and cry and be hungry and wonder why mom has abandoned her and left her starving. This is what goes through my mind!

It's absolutely heart breaking, in fact I just had to stop and cry about it.

I wish we were like France and got a year off for maternity leave instead of just 6 weeks. Actually they told me I go back on Tuesday which is only 5 weeks 6 days, but whatever.

I actually went to work today to make copies and never got around to doing it because I took the baby with me and everyone wanted to see her :) I loved showing her off. I wish she could just come to work with me every day! It will be nice to get out of the house and have adult interaction, but it's hard leaving your baby. I never knew it until I had her.

My students seem nice, but that doesn't mean they will be. I hope they stay that way, and don't revolt when I change the way the sub has been doing things, which is completely different from the way I do things. We'll see...

Wow, it's been over a month since I've updated this blog.

Well, it's for a good reason. 3 days after my last post - July 28 to be specific - Baby D was born!

It's a... GIRL! We are absolutely thrilled. Mr. D & I were both convinced it was a boy. We were happy with that, although we really didn't care either way - we just wanted the baby to arrive!!

On the evening of the 27th, I thought my water had broken, so we went to the hospital. They told me my water had NOT broken, monitored me just to make sure, and then sent me home. Boo. I went to sleep around 11:30 that night, fully prepared to wake up and go to a training for work at 8 in the morning.

Around 1, I started waking up with cramps, but thought they were caused by my exam so I kept going back to sleep. At 2, the cramps were SO intense, and I realized they were coming and going, as opposed to being constant. "Hm," I thought, "Maybe these are contractions..." so I whipped out my handy dandy iPhone application which times contractions. Woah! If these were contractions, they were over a minute long and 3-6 minutes apart!

They tell you to go to the hospital if you are having contractions a minute long and 5 minutes apart. I still wasn't convinced this was "it," after all, I had just been to the hospital and I was fine.

So I tried to sleep through them. It became clear this was not going to happen. Mr. D asked if I was ok, because by this point I was writhing around and moaning. I told him I might be having contractions, so he got up. I went into the shower to try to put some hot water on my back. I'd been told that if it was Braxton Hicks contractions (the fake kind), a hot shower would make them go away. They just got more intense, though. So I got out and told Mr. D it was time to go back to the hospital!

At some point after this I was on all fours trying to relieve the pain as I put some stuff back into the hospital bag and got dressed. It hurt SO badly. We left the house and I called the on-call doctor again, who was clearly sleeping as it was 3:30 by this point and she sounded out of it. She tried to convince me that I was not really in labor, that a lot of first time mothers mistake Braxton hicks for the real thing, blah blah blah. She asked if I was already on the way, and when I said yes, she sighed and told me to go ahead and come in. So, if I hadn't been in the car, she would've suggested I stay at home.

Mr. D was listening to my pain-noises and asked if I had just had another contraction. When I told him yes he told me it was only 2 minutes from the last! Yikes! He was driving like a madman to get me to the hospital. I felt so much pain and pressure I really thought I might deliver in the car - but still was thinking maybe this wasn't the real thing, since my doctor didn't think it was.

We pull up to the ER and I get out, they wheel me upstairs and check, and sure enough, I was 7 centimeters dilated (10 is when you deliver). Things got chaotic. At one point I was told it was too late for an epidural, which drove me to the brink of insanity, but they were able to get one started. It slowed things down, but at 9 a.m. on the 28th, Baby D arrived.

She had some health issues so spent 5 days in the NICU, but we've been home for 3 weeks now. She is 4 weeks, 1 day old. She's beautiful and perfect, and Mr. D and I are absolutely in love.

Wow, it's been awhile.

Not much new to report!

I'm just that interesting :)

Still no baby.

I turned 26 on Thursday! I had the best birthday ever! Each year is better than the last. We had some men out last week staining our basement concrete. The carpet down there was horrendous, and it had some water damage and was starting to smell. Great, huh? So Mr. D ripped it up and we hired someone to come stain the concrete. We had a friend whose family friend did this to her concrete, and it looked AMAZING. Ours? Not so much. But I'll get to that.

They were still working on my birthday. This meant Mr. D and I could not leave the house until they did! Boo. However, Mr. D woke up early before they came, and went and got me some DONUTS!! I freaking love donut store donuts, but we never get them. We enjoy sleeping in too much, and by the time we wake up, the stores are all sold out. We walk in and discover half a donut hole and a stale cinnamon roll. Heck, even getting there before 8 on a weekday, Mr. D said they didn't have a lot left!

We still gorged on some delicious pastries. I could've eaten a million, but I only had two. Mr. D gave me my gift. He got me an iPad!! I still can't believe it. He always gives the best gifts, and then I majorly fail when I give him things. I love the iPad, and can't recommend it enough if you've been thinking about buying one. Mr. D knows I am a major Internet addict, and thought it would be handy to have something small and light that I can entertain myself with while I'm holding Baby D.

Then the concrete guys had some trouble with the staining process. This meant they had to leave early and come back the next day, which was very annoying because it screwed up my Friday plans. But it did mean that Mr. D and I could celebrate my birthday the right way! We drove to this area we used to live in to eat at our old favorite Chinese place. Then we went to the movies. The movie we wanted to see was only available at a "cinema suite" which meant tickets were twice as expensive, but as the overly excited teenage employee told us, "You get food vouchers!!!!" Well, I had just eaten crab wontons, edamame, lots of chicken, and hoards of rice. No thank you. We ended up seeing Despicable Me as a last resort and I loved it! Such a fun movie.

Then we came home and I played on my iPad and haven't put it away since.

As for the concrete situation. As I said, my friend had this process done and it looked so fabulous that Mr. D and I couldn't stop dreaming of it for the past year. The man who did her floor was a family friend of her husband, and when I looked him up on the Internet, discovered his company only did concrete countertops. I assumed he just did their floor as a favor, so didn't bother to call and ask him if he'd do our floor. I should have.

The process was supposed to take 3 days and start on Monday. Sunday night, I got an e-mail from the company saying they were running behind and asking if they could start on Tuesday. This upset me because I knew they would now be here all day on my birthday Thursday.

The guy arrives on Tuesday with some college-aged kid and leaves the kid here. The kid starts grinding down our existing concrete and fills the ENTIRE HOUSE with a thick cloud of concrete dust. My God. And I'm pregnant, so I wasn't feeling too enthused about the idea of breathing in this stuff. I locked myself upstairs in our room with a scarf around my face.

Mr. D ended up going to the basement doorway and nailing a sheet up. It helped a lot, but dust was still abound.

The kid does not talk to us the entire time he's here - and I mean all 3 days. We never knew what he was doing. He came and went as he pleased. We never knew if he was coming back for the day. The next day, the guy who I'd been in contact with explained that our concrete was unexpectedly soft and that's why there was so much dust. They continued working, slinging more dust.

Then the 3rd day, they began staining. Apparently our soft concrete sucked up the stain and they would need to do two coats. One on Thursday, and the next on Friday. I was supposed to go into work on Friday and prepare my classroom for the school year before I go into labor. I was unable to do this now. Ugh.

Meanwhile, the stain looked awful. I did NOT like the color. It didn't look like the one we'd picked out, or at all like I'd expected. I told myself that after they stained it again and polished it, it would look much better, and more like my friend's basement.

They came on Friday and finished up, and I really am not too fond of it. The color is too dark and ruddy, and it's not really glossy at ALL. My friend's looks like marble. The pictures on this company's website looks like marble.

Ours looks like an industrial loft floor but we live in the suburbs and needless to say it doesn't go with the house layout or decor. I am SO disappointed. Mostly because I'd built up this floor in my mind to be a masterpiece, and we spent so much money having this done. I should have called the guy who did my friend's floor, even if his website doesn't advertise it.

Now we're out all of this money and I feel like we've lowered the value of our house even though it was supposed to raise it.

Oh well, you live, you learn.

That's all that is new with me. Baby D is still baking away, but I keep telling him or her to feel free to come out ANY TIME.

It's been awhile!

Not much to report, though.

I had my baby shower on Sunday, it went so well! We were so lucky to get so many gifts and really appreciate everyone coming and helping us out. Now if only I could get motivated to organize it all!! For now it's scattered across my living room. Oops.

I started getting STRETCH MARKS. I was naively thinking I might actually avoid them, it being so late in my pregnancy and all. But no, on Sunday as I got out of the shower and looked in the mirror, I saw one. By the end of the day, there were several. I am devastated. I know it's a small price to pay for this baby, and Mr. D says he thinks I am beautiful no matter what, but it still makes me feel so unattractive. Knowing I can never wear a bikini again kills me. I wanted to be one of those women who come through pregnancy and bounce back and have a beautiful smooth body. Not going to happen.

I'm 37 weeks pregnant today - FULL TERM! So I'm encouraging Baby D to come out whenever he/she is ready. Like, RIGHT NOW.

Massage and Hormones

Yesterday I had an appointment for a prenatal massage at my chiropractor's office. My appointment card said 1, and I got there around 12:55. I walked up to the doors, was about to go in, when I realized the sign said "CLOSED." Um, what? I looked at the hours and it said they were closed from 12-2! I pulled out my appointment card and confirmed that I did in fact have a 1 o'clock appointment.

I decided I would wait in my car until 1 just to make sure. Shortly after 1, a woman comes out of the office. I decided to go in while it was still unlocked (I had seen her struggle to get out and finally unlock it). I go in and NO ONE is around. The door had made a loud "ding dong!" noise, so I knew if someone was around they were aware I was in there. I waited for a few minutes and no one came out, so I started to get paranoid that I wasn't supposed to be in there and went back to my car. I got out my phone and called to leave a nasty message, when I notice a woman inside the building approach the door and look outside. As it turns out, it was my massage therapist. I was about to really have a bitch fest on their answering machine, so I'm glad I didn't have to.

The massage was nice, but I was a little irritated that the clock said 1:55 when she was finished, and considering she'd started late I felt like my time was ripped off - I was supposed to get an hour. Oh well. It felt great, but I was really annoyed that she kept saying "Are you ok?" like I was doing something wrong or looked in pain or something. It made me self conscious.

I got home and eventually started making dinner. Asian lettuce wraps! Yum. Anyway, I'm chopping the chicken and realize that even though Mr. D e-mailed me the other day asking what groceries I needed (he was going to the store), I had failed to put an onion on the list. For some reason (um, perhaps the baby I'm incubating), this was COMPLETELY NOT OK! I got myself all worked up, mad at myself for failing to put an onion on my list (when I've made this dish a billion times, I know it needs an onion).

At this point, I had two options. I could finish chopping the chicken, put it in the fridge, and go get an onion from the store. OR, I could have a complete breakdown.

You can guess what happened.

I wandered downstairs, where Mr. D was working hard pulling up the basement carpet (that's another story for another day). I stood on the bottom step and waited for him to acknowledge me. He said, "What's wrong?" and BAM, I started hysterically crying. "I forgot to tell you we needed an onionnnnnn!" and it was downhill from there. I cried and cried, and explained to him that I was so mad at myself and didn't want to go to the store to get an onion because I was too hungry. I asked if we could order a pizza instead (even though now that I'm in a rational mindset I realize that would take way longer than just going to get a freaking onion).

Mr. D offered to get an onion, I refused to let him go. Eventually he convinced me through my wailing and tears that we didn't even need an onion. I agreed, and he accompanied me upstairs, hugged me for awhile, put an ice pack around my neck because I was hot, gave me a Coke for some caffeine since he thought maybe I was tired, and offered to find me a snack (I'd already had a granola bar while I contemplated my two reaction choices so I declined another snack). I felt way better. Mr. D was able to finish ripping up carpet, and I calmly finished dinner and it was delicious, even without the onion.

Hormones are so strange.