Home Sweet Home

I spent a nice chunk of time tonight writing about my recent cross-country trip for my friend’s wedding in Wine Country.

And then it just – poof! – disappeared!

And now I can’t remember what I wrote, and I’m grumpy, and I’m afraid it’s going to happen again, so, highlights and pictures it is!

I ❤️ San Francisco.

A well-meaning (and hopefully legally blind) woman asked if I was my friend’s MOTHER.

I left my actual child at home with Dad and Nana, and he was totes fine without me (😢) but was SUPER excited to see me when I got home (😍)

I ate, and drank, so many amazing things.

Speaking of drinking, we maybe almost sort-of got kicked out of our hotel room.

My wonderful friend married a wonderful man.


I want more babies.


The plan was always for two kids, if we were lucky – maybe even three given everything we’ve gone through so far (or if twins ever come along). Mike always said he wanted them to be about four years apart.

Then it took almost two years just to get, and stay, pregnant. And that was before the gestational hypertension and diabetes. On top of the clotting issues, and RPL history. Not to mention the (minor, thankfully) placental abruption, borderline IUGR, and the emergency c-section.

Geez. When you put it that way, it sounds terrifying.

The bottom line is: my 34-year-old baby maker can’t wait two more years. Or maybe it can, but it doesn’t want to.

And so the plan is to wait until after the holidays, and then get the ball rolling for a frozen embryo transfer. Granted, I’ve never had a two-year-old before, so I may end up eating those words, but it seems like a good idea on paper: Spend quality time with baby #1, but not so long that my already questionable reproductive system craps out on me.

The good news? For once in my life, my ovaries were over-achievers. I have 11 frozen embryos left. So many people struggle to get just a fraction of what we have, so I know how unbelievably lucky we are.

Do I want 11 more kids? While it would make for an amazing reality show (complete with faaabulous gay BFF nanny), no. No, I do not.

But I don’t expect all 11 to survive the thaw, when the time comes. And who knows if we’ll have the same early issues we had before. And when we got pregnant with Gus, we’d opted to transfer two embryos, and obviously only one took. So, 11 doesn’t necessarily equal 11. But I’m getting ahead of myself.

I’m hoping to get in to see my RE and my Hematologist in the next few weeks to get my ducks in a row/baseline tests/protocols and prescriptions in place so we can start (hopefully) in January.

And so I’ll get to spend yet another holiday season avoiding all my favorite things: sugar, gluten, alcohol, and caffiene.

Starting after Halloween.

And my friend’s wedding in Wine Country, obviously.

A Bananas Birthday Party

This weekend we celebrated Gus’ second birthday with our friends and family at our house.

Ordinarily my mom would help me with a party this size by making some of the food. Only now we live together and my kitchen is her kitchen, so we had to prep and plan out most the week leading up to the party so we had room and time to get everything ready.

I’ll spare you a step-by-step account of a two-year-old’s birthday party, here are the key points:

• Curious George Birthday Cake! (And so many desserts!)
• Monkeys in need of a good home!
• 12 months of pictures! And an updated chalkboard!
• Pin the banana on George game (and some hilariously placed bananas)
• A baby who loves cake, like his mother loves cake.

Twenty-Four Months

Holy moly. I can’t believe two years have gone by already. I can’t believe how big and smart and independent this handsome little boy of mine is.

I can’t believe this is the last time I’ll write one of these updates (for Gus, at least).

Height & Weight: 33 1/2 inches tall, and 24 pounds (up from 19 inches and 5.5 pounds at birth)

Likes: Building “trains” out of all his toy cars, building and destroying any sort of tower, Legos Legos and more Legos (Duplos, technically) Mickey Mouse, and his old standby – Curious George. He is obsessed with playing in ice-cold water during and after his bath. He screams and laughs the entire time, and fake cries when I turn off the water.

Dislikes: He is pretty agreeable for a two-year-old. He doesn’t like to take breaks from toys/George/the plan for diaper changes, and if he’s in the process of setting up a car train, Heaven help you if you try to touch one of the pieces.

Sleep: A month ago we’d barely finished sleep training, and now I’m confident in saying the kid has it down. Naps and nighttime are a breeze, and he just lays down, says goodnight, and I rarely hear a peep before morning. I also recently dropped our bedtime and naptime nursing sessions, and he’s been doing amazingly well.

Eating: “Hop Crackers,” (Annie’s bunnies) are a constant request, along with “fruit,” which means yogurt, but also sometimes fruit, which is fun to figure out. He’s discovered ranch dressing, but thankfully he only eats it with broccoli which he also loves.

Clothes: 2Ts pretty much across the board, even though the waists are all way too big.

New Tricks: So many more new words, more syllables, longer and longer sentences, and TONS of repeating (I officially need to start watching my language). He sort of cursed the other day, and he was repeating after (haha!) his… Grandmother. And then, last night, I spilled something and said, “oh crap!” which he repeated until bedtime. I also recently signed Gus up for a tumbling class and I think he really enjoys going.

Teeth: Those last four molars are moving at a glacial pace, but the bottom two have almost broken through. Tooth Tally: 16.

Night night
Gus Gus
Daisy, no!
Monkey sounds
snake sounds
Owl sounds
The Letters: H & O & T
Oh no!
All done / All gone
Elephant (Appa)
Spoon (foon)
Thanks (“Tay, Mom!”)
Set, Go!
Me Try
Banana (banna)
Oh Toot Toot! (Toodles)
Me House (aka the playroom or his bedroom)
*Right there
*Ribbitt (reebeep!)
*Surprise (Prise!)
*Soccer Ball
*Hotdog (Hagog)
*Oh Spot!
*Dump (truck)
*Bubble Guppies
*Birthday Cake
*Follow me
*My turn
*Poor baby
*Bless you

*new this month

Dear Gus: Two

Dear Gus,

Two years ago, today, I was huffing and puffing on my way to the hospital where I made some jokes, batted my eyelashes at my newest BFF the anesthesiologist, and tried to catch some shuteye, and then – BAM! – there you were at 3:57 in the morning.

You looked like this:


Now, you look like this:


Last year on your birthday, I couldn’t believe how much you’d changed in so little time (even if some hours/days/weeks felt like an eternity). You seemed like such a big boy when you turned one.

But man. I was wrong.

Because a year ago, you were still a little baby. Now? You’re a walking, talking, running, jumping, climbing, screaming, hilarious, trouble-making, funny little boy. (Note to future self: I realize when he’s three, I’ll be like oh, but he was still such a baby when he was two, and so-forth and so-on).


I don’t know how you’ve gotten so big, because you eat like a bird. Like a sick, lazy, distracted bird. You LOVE apple juice (which I’m sorry to tell you is 75% water. I live in absolute fear of the day you have pure, glorious, undiluted juice) and if I’d let you, you would exist solely on cheese. Not even good cheese! You’d just eat processed American cheese if it were up to you. You’re currently obsessed with pretzels, and if there are potato chips in the house we need to hide them from you. (I swear I routinely offer you fruits and vegetables!)

You adore all animals, and you love going to the zoo and the aquarium. You entertain us and yourself with animal noises. Every morning you enthusiastically greet Daisy and Jake, only to spend the majority of the day disciplining them if they so much as look at your plate of food (that you have no intention of eating).

You have learned so many words and phrases this year, I’ve lost count. You are only quiet when you are sleeping (and most nights you still end up talking in your sleep) or when you are getting into trouble. You ask a lot of questions. You boss everyone around constantly. You’re favorite word/question/demand is, “MEEEEE?!” which can mean anything from come/play/sit/slide/walk/lay/eat/read with me.

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You really enjoy counting things, in your own way (“two, three, nine, three, nine, Jake, two, nine!”) Don’t worry though, you’ll be fine. Most grown ups never use math. Hopefully you can get by on your good looks.

You LOVE Curious George, and Elmo. You will read the same book a thousand times, and you always need at least one more story before bed. You love to go for walks, ride your new bike around the neighborhood, and stockpile every rock and leaf you find.

You FINALLY sleep in your own bed (hooray!) but not without your gang of stuffed animals: Duck, George, Cow and Appa (the elephant), your fuzzy yellow blanket, your pillow, and your rainforest lullaby nightlight. You don’t even cry at bedtime – you just lay back with your hands behind your head and say, “bye mommy” like such a big boy.

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You are insanely ticklish and (unlike your father) will demand to be tickled again and again. You think farts are hilarious, and you love it when we’re repulsed by your stinky baby feet. A few days ago the letter of the day on Sesame Street was P, and I said, “Look, Gus! It’s P!” to which you replied, “and poop!”

I’ve never been prouder.

You say hello to every woman and child you see. Then you tell them to look at your shoes. Then you tell them who I am. Sometimes we circle back to shoes again.

Your crazy baby tufts have been replaced by a mop of stick-straight hair, which has been professionally cut once (traumatizing), and very unprofessionally cut by me ever since (budget-friendly!). In the last year, you’ve gotten 14 more teeth and boy, let me tell you, growing teeth is serious business. I hope you’re better about flossing than I am.

You’ve stopped calling us Mama and Dada, and for awhile we were just Mom and Dad, which I didn’t really like. I guess it’s better than Mother and Father though, so I got over it. In the last three weeks, you’ve started calling us Mommy and Daddy (so sweet!), which you technically learned from Jake and the Neverland Pirates, so who says cartoons are all bad?

You’re stingy with your kisses, but give great hugs. You are the most empathetic child I’ve ever met, running to one of us, pouting and pointing “he’s sad!” anytime someone in one of your books or shows seems upset. 

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It’s true what they say: the days are long but the years are short. I can’t believe you’re two. I can’t believe how big you are. I can believe how handsome and smart you are, because, well, you have excellent genes.

Happy Birthday to my favorite little monkey! I can’t wait to see what you have in store for us in year three (oh god, here we go).

Love, Mom and Dad


In preparation for my upcoming cross-country travel plans, I decided to sleep train Gus, and then start weaning.

He’s only nursed at naptime and bedtime for, well, a really long time. I can’t even remember when we dropped the morning session, but it was a long time ago. He’s been down to twice a day ever since we dropped his second nap, and there were plenty of times he’d nap in the car if we were out and about, and just nurse at bedtime that day.

I wanted to give him at least a month to adjust to his new sleeping arrangements before I changed anything else, and I decided to drop the bedtime session first, since he got to a point where he would stop nursing on his own and ask to go “night-night.”

I started five days ago. He still asks for milk, but I just give him a cup of juice-water and we sing Old McDonald (“I-O?!”) until he asks to go to bed.

Naptime was a different story, and there was always a lot of crying when I told him it was time to stop nursing and lay down.

Until today.

After probably less than 30 seconds of nursing, he asked for juice and night-night at naptime. I, of course, had no juice to give him, so I laid him down and he was like, “bye mom,” and then he woke up three hours later.

So amazed. So proud.

I thought I’d be sad about weaning, but I’m not. I AM super proud of myself for nursing a week shy of two years though. When I think back to the very horrible beginning when I just wanted to make it to six weeks, then six months, then a year — I can’t believe we did it as long as we did.

And I’m super proud of this almost two-year-old who has taken all these new changes in stride, like such a big boy.