Oh the weather outside is frightful

We're leaving for Bethesda tonight for Christmas and while I'll try to make one final post before 2009 concludes, these days, I make no promises.

The Harvills (north) survived the first "blizzard of the century" from last week. After two days of waiting, Joel and I estimate that we got about 9-11 inches of snow which doesn't really qualify as a blizzard in my book. For Connecticut winters, it was nothing major to us. We paid some guys to shovel our driveway, we made a fire and thanks to our new Jeep, we weren't even locked in the house for too long.

We did have our first Cosby kids moment with Brice during the snowstorm. My parents sent us spiffy new snow pants for Brice so we figured we'd test them out by taking him out in the snow. My theory has always been that I dress my kids as I dress myself. For snowy conditions, this means pants, socks, snow pants, long sleeved shirt, sweater, jacket, gloves, hat and boots. I really feel for people who live in chilly conditions year round with children. It took me and Joel approximately 30 minutes to get Brice into his various layers and then it took another 15 minutes of me, sitting in the floor with my back up against a wall and Joel pushing with all of his might to get my snow boots on. How I manage to be swollen when its 10 degrees outside is beyond me. So, we finally got Brice out into the snow, made it halfway around the block and he started to cry. His nose was running, his cheeks were rosy and he was clearly not happy. By the time we got back to the house, he was hysterical. Its amazing how it can take 30 minutes to get a kid fully dressed and only take 30 seconds to get them back down to a diaper. As soon as he was back in the warmth in normal clothes, he was happy again. Joel made it all better by taking him in the bubble bath with the jets on. Brice is definitely my child. He could have played in the tub all day!

I had my 32-week check up appointment with Dr. Pendyala on Monday. We've tentatively scheduled the c-section for Monday, February 8 although I could go into labor earlier or an emergency could push us back. Regardless, its nice to have an end date to look forward to and as of this Monday, we'll have 6 weeks to go until we meet baby H2. The 50-day mark never looked to good! I miraculously gained another 3lbs putting me at parity to where I was with Brice at the 32-week mark. I guess the weeks of throwing up that I suffered through during the start of this pregnancy were no match for my keen ability to eat and gain. Sigh. I lost the weight once and I guess I'll have to do it again! Otherwise, we listened to H2's heartbeat (fast and strong), measured my belly (perfect) and scheduled our last ultrasound for January 20. Its weird to think that I'm in the home stretch now and that we'll be a family of four in just over one month.

Last night we drove up to Brewster to pick up our new car. A shiny used Ford Edge! Woo hoo! We are now a 2-SUV family. The Ford is only on lease to us for one year so by next Christmas, we'll determine what our needs really are. All I know is, I'm happy to be getting rid of the Saab. While it was my favorite car to drive from a sportiness perspective, it sure is uncomfortable to sit in with this damn belly in my way.

When we got home last night, Graciela was waiting for us to tell us the bad news. The gutter in our TV room had frozen and created a dam of ice. The melting ice and snow had nowhere to go so instead of running down the gutter and into the yard, it was running over the side of the gutter, into our window and all over our floor. The entire sliding door looked like a waterfall and had already soaked through the floor mat and several towels. Joel once again donned 35 layers of clothing, grabbed the ladder and went out into the ice and snow with a hammer and a chisel to attempt to remove the block of ice from our gutter. Ah, the joys of home ownership are never-ending.

So, we're outta here tonight. As I've mentioned on Facebook, I am praying for the following:

• Brice sleeps the entire car ride
• We can find a Wendys or a McDonalds with luke warm (at least) french fries
• By some miracle, I am able to hold my bladder for longer than 30 minutes at a clip, otherwise I fear Joel will make me attempt to pee in a Gatorade bottle (long standing Happy Harvill joke).

I wish you all a very Merry Christmas or Happy Festivus (for the rest of us) and may your nog be eggy, your stocking runneth over and your canes be made of candy!

We've come a long way, baby.

Joel and I took Brice for his one-year check-up with Dr. Lialios on Monday. He weighed in at 26lbs and was 31.5 inches long, putting him between 90-95th percentile for both height and weight. We saw the nice curve on Brice's growth chart, which let us know that he's pretty much remained consistent in his growth throughout the year. We were given the go ahead to start the transition from formula to whole milk (yay!). Dr. Lialios also recommended that we give Brice the swine flu shot as the children that he had seen to date that had been given Tamiflu to combat the swine flu were coming back at a high rate with pnemonia and bronchitis or other issues. So, minor hysteria from Brice and a few minutes later and our child had his two shots and we were on our way with our next checkup scheduled for early March.

We brought Brice home, dropped him off with Graciela and headed off to work. When I arrived home around 5:30 p.m., I sent Joel and text message letting him know I was feeling a little nauseous and I asked him to come home quickly to help with Brice. The waves of nausea came and went, and I was able to keep food down despite a couple of close calls. Joel put Brice to bed and we took up our normal places on the couch for some Monday Night Football-watching.

At around 10:30pm, we heard it. The lights on our baby monitor lit up and then we started hearing loud, bizarre noises coming from Brice's room. Since I was sitting and these days it takes me about 10 minutes to get to my feet, Joel went to investigate. I stayed comfy and assumed that it was just a bad dream and our little guy would be back to sleep in a few minutes. Then, I heard Joel's voice thru the monitor.

"Mommy, we're going to need your help in here. Throw up central."

Ugh. Let me just note that my child is not a puker. He was never a big spitter-upper (except for some reason whenever people were dressed in expensive suits or coats). The last time he spit-up was when he was still predominantly taking the bottle and some purees, so the liquid is relatively easy and painless to clean up. Not the case anymore. I went in and we found Brice pretty much covered in vomit. His blankets, sheets, pajamas... everything needed to be changed. He was hysterical and scared. Joel and I undressed Brice and he took the little man into our bedroom to try to calm him down while I filled the laundry basket with the soiled items and did the first in a series of laundry runs for that evening. We re-pj'ed him, gave him a little water and I snuggled with him in bed while Joel went upstairs to get some rest. We thought the worst was over... how wrong we were.

At about 2:00 a.m., Brice started to get restless again. He pulled his binky out and started rolling around. I thought that maybe he was hungry, so I grabbed his bottle. He took about an ounce or two and the proceeded to throw up again, this time all over my pillow, up my arm and down my leg. By the time I got him out of bed and into the bathroom we were both totally covered. Brice was less scared this time around and when I put him down on the bathroom floor, he quickly stood up, grabbed his favorite new toy - the electric toothbrush - and started to play. I'll admit, that after his pukey-ness, I wasn't going to stop him from brushing his teeth! I got us both undressed and called to Joel to come help take the sheets and pillows off the bed. Laundry run #2.

Joel suggested that I take Brice upstairs. We were quickly running out of places to sleep! We both put on new pjs and I brought him upstairs and put him down in the bed. Within five minutes, I recognized the tell tale signs. Binky came out, hands started thrashing around. With my pregnant and yet extraordinarily cat-like reflexes, I grabbed Brice and ran him into the bathroom before he spewed, Exorcist style, all over me. If nothing more, I was getting pretty good at this. I brought him back downstairs, changed us both again and brought him over to the couch where at this point, Joel was sleeping with both of our dogs.


It was now 3:00 a.m. Joel commented that I had a piece of green bean in my hair and we both laughed with exhaustion as we realized I hadn't eaten green beans. I sat down on the couch, put my poor baby on my belly and snuggled him tight until he fell asleep. Joel fell asleep. The dogs passed out. I sat there, awaiting the next puke-fest. I sat there until 6:00 a.m. with Brice asleep on me. At that point, I woke Joel up, handed our little guy over and passed out for an hour.

By 7:00 a.m. he seemed to be back to normal. No fever, no more puking and ready to play. Joel and I gave one another a wink as we realized that we had somehow survived the night without yelling, fighting or freaking out. We tolerated the sleep deprivation like champs. The last year had transformed us from novices into true parents, ready and willing to accept any challenge at any hour. I will admit, that over the last few weeks I've been lying awake nights wondering how we were going to manage with Brice and a new baby, but our capabilities demonstrated put many of my concerns to rest. Sure, I'm certain we'll have a tense moment (or year) as we try to figure out how to manage two children but I've got to give it up to the Happy Harvills. We've come a long way, baby.

Some updated photos

It has been awhile since I posted any photos. Here's a sneak preview of the Happy Harvill holiday card photo. Yes, I use my child to hide my 30 week bump! Thanks to Meredith for snapping this one on Brice's first birthday!

Another family photo down by our beach. Brice is practicing his serious face.

Doing what he does best: messing with the dogs and making funny faces.

Another one from Brice's first birthday. I can't believe how big my little man is!

Orange you glad I didn't say sheet cake?

I went to the doctor on Friday for my 30 week update. Instead of seeing Dr. Pendyala, per usual, I went to Dr. Garratano. The office policy is that during a pregnancy, you have to see more than one doctor. I figured, since the 30 week appointment is typically a non-event, I would use this one to check the box and see someone else in the practice.

I'll admit, I'm a pretty easy patient. I don't ask many questions, I don't have many concerns. Despite my ease, Dr. Garratano did NOT make a good first impression. My appointment was slated for 10:20. It was Brice's birthday, so I figured I'd be in and out and we could continue our day of lunching, playing and celebrating. I arrived at 10:10 to check in. By 10:30, the nurse brought me back to do the routine. Pee in a cup, check my weight (up 6lbs in four weeks?!?) and check my blood pressure (low and steady, as usual). The nurse told me the doctor would be right in to see me. And then I waited... and waited... and waited. I read People magazine, and American Baby and Good Housekeeping. I checked my blackberry. I reorganized my purse. At 11am, the nurse returned to tell me that the doctor would be with me. Didn't she do that thirty minutes ago? I read Vogue from June. I sent emails.

Finally at 11:20, Dr. Garratano arrived. An hour late. She quickly flipped through my file. She listened to H2's heartbeat. "Active baby!" She said. Thanks genius. I couldn't tell that she was active from the eleventy billion bladder punches I sustain on a daily basis.

"I think she's feet down," she said with a look of displeasure.
"I'm having another c-section. It doesn't really matter," I said.
"She can always turn," Dr. Garratano responded.
"Yeah, I figured that considering I still have 9 weeks to go." Was this woman for real?

She asked if I had taken my glucose test. "Yes, last month. I passed. I failed the one hour with Brice so I'm happy!" She responded, "You're up 6lbs in 4 weeks and this time you don't have a glucose intolerance to blame. Time to get the weight under control. What's your weakness?" I thought about it. My weakness? Shoes? Mani/pedis? Looking at real estate I can't afford? I responded, "Oranges. I've been eating about five a day. My son loves them so we share." I was proud. She gave a quick tsk-tsk under her breath like I was a five-year-old getting caught with my hand in the cookie jar. "If you don't want to gain 50lbs like you did the first time around, I recommend putting down the fruit and picking up a cheeseburger."

Seriously? Here I was thinking I was being good. Aside from my morning bagel, I pretty much stayed off the carbs. I hadn't even baked a single sheet cake this time around! I ate low fat frozen yogurt for crying out loud. You are an hour late to see me and now you're going to take away the one yummy item that I've been enjoying and replace it with cheeseburgers? For a brief minute I envisioned myself rolling up the outdated Vogue and whacking the doc across the head.

I regained my self control and nodded. "I'll lay off the fruit," I said. "We'll see you in two weeks," she responded as she ushered me out of the room. The entire meeting had lasted approximately five minutes. I walked out to the receptionist and told her that I needed an appointment in two weeks. "With Dr. Garratano?" she asked. "Dr. Pendyala," I responded with a smile.

I finally made it home as Joel, Brice and his sister were returning from a trip to Costco. They were unpacking the car and as I came around to help, Joel handed me a crate of clementines. "Your favorite!" He was so proud of himself for picking up oranges for me. "Got any cheeseburgers in there?" I asked. Sigh. I just can't win.

A letter to my son on his (almost) birthday

Dear Brice,

Tomorrow morning when you wake up, I'm going to come into your room, sit you down on my lap and tell you the story of what happened the day that you were born. In case you don't feel like listening, I decided to write it down for you as well.

December 4, 2008 was a cold day and despite the chill, when the alarm went off your father and I nearly sprung out of bed with excitement. Somehow we were able to get sleep the night before. I'm still not really sure how. We knew we would be meeting you that day. Daddy cleaned up a little bit around the house while I took a shower, got dressed, blew my hair dry and put on makeup. I wanted to make sure that I looked perfect when we first saw one another. Once we were ready, we grabbed a pillow, kissed Shamus and Lucy goodbye and headed off in the car to the hospital. The sun was just coming up creating a beautiful pink hue on the horizon and there was frost on the ground.

We walked into the labor and delivery section of the hospital, let the nurses know that we were there for a c-section and they led us down the hall to a room. We passed a couple of women in labor along the way and daddy and I gave one another a quick hi-five because we knew that we had made the right decision. The nurses made me change into a gown and they hooked me up to a machine so that they could monitor your heartbeat. Even then we knew you were so active! The nurses also gave daddy a funny outfit to wear over his clothes. It was tight and we were worried that if he bent over, he would split it right down the backside!

Finally, Dr. Pendyala came in and told us that were ready to go. They had me walk down the hall to the operating room. They asked daddy to wait outside while they gave me the epidural. I guess the were afraid he might faint! My tummy and legs started to numb and they put up a screen so I couldn't see what they were doing. Daddy was allowed to join me and he had a beautiful photo album with him. They started the c-section and we looked at pictures from when we first met, our vacations, our wedding and of course, pictures of Shamus and Lucy.

Dr. Pendyala told Joel to get the camera ready and all of a sudden, we heard your first mighty cry. It was the most wonderful sound in the whole world. She brought you around the screen so that I could see you. You were big and pink and perfect and from that first moment, I was so in love. You were born at 8:10 a.m. and you weighed 8lbs, 14oz. The nurses took you to get you cleaned up and the doctors finished the procedure. I told daddy to go with you to the nursery and he did. He looked so proud and I could see tears in his eyes.

The doctors brought me in to the recovery room for an hour, where I rested and waited impatiently to see you again. Finally they said that the room was ready and they wheeled me down the hall. We stopped in front of a button on the wall and the nurse instructed me to push it. When I did, it played nursery music for the whole hospital so that everyone would know that a baby had been born. They brought me to our room and then a few minutes later they brought you in. It was so nice to hold you. You were all bundled up in blankets and you just snuggled in very tight. I still remember you looking up at me with your big, brown eyes and you sighed. My heart was filled with joy and pride and I just wanted to hug you and never let you go.

Since that chilly day last year, you have grown up so much and have learned so many things. You have turned into a sweet little boy. I fall in love again every time I hear you laugh, see you smile, watch you interact with the dogs or other kids. I revel in your love for music and to watch you dance is the true definition of joy. I know that every parent must think this, but I truly believe that you are a very smart little boy. From 9 months old you were walking. These days you can kick the soccer ball by yourself. You are a wonderful sharer and are always offering toys, bites of food and kisses. You have learned to share your dinner with the dogs which has resulted in my newly painted wall being covered with cheese, carrots and pasta sauce. The dogs have gained about 10lbs each. My favorite time is when you snuggle on the couch. You seem to love watching football as its the only moment when you sit still. You can't get enough of bubbles. We blow bubbles in the kitchen almost every night when I get home from work. Our floor is perpetually sticky as a result. You are mesmerized by your daddy and I can see you growing up to be a fine and respectable man, just like him. You talk a a lot and seem to understand even more. My favorite thing to hear you say is, "mom."

So, my sweet boy, I wish you a very Happy First Birthday! I can't wait to see what this next year holds in store for us Happy Harvills. I love you with all of my heart.

Love,
Mom

We survived Thanksgiving and Brice's First Birthday Party...

...and all I got was this lousy t-shirt. Just kidding. We had a great long weekend.

Last year at this time, we were preparing for my c-section and the birth of baby Brice. For Thanksgiving, Simon, Joel and I ordered some food from Boston Market and sat around on the couch watching football and playing video games. We didn't want company and quite frankly, at 38 weeks pregnant, I couldn't really travel anywhere. One week later, Brice was born. That night may have been the last "quiet and relaxing" evening we would have... ever.

Fast forward to this year. At 29 weeks pregnant, Thanksgiving was a little bit different. My parents and my brother, Steven, came to stay at the Harvill household and we were joined by George and AJ, who stayed in a hotel nearby. My sister, Allyson, hosted and my other sister, Jill, traveled in from London with Andy and baby Grace. Eric's parents, sister, his sister's husband and sister's husband's parents also joined. Oh, and did I mention it was also my nephew, Zach's 17th birthday? Needless to say with the birthdays and the babies, we had a lot of celebrating to do.

I have to report that despite the criticism and threats to have the Westport fire department on standby, Joel and George's Cajun deep fried turkey was a major hit (and no eyebrows were lost during the cooking process). Its amazing what men can do with a deep fryer and gallons of peanut oil.

The day after Thanksgiving, we celebrated Brice's first birthday since our families were in town. We had 35 people at our house including six kids under 3. The bagels, etc. were a huge hit with the crowd that was still working to digest the previous night's turkey dinner and I still giggle when I think of everyone walking around with blue teeth due to my selection of turquoise cupcake frosting. Brice cried hysterically through the singing of "Happy Birthday" which only made me and Joel laugh harder as we were not surprised at all. Needless to say, the second everyone left, he happily played with all of his new loot. To date, his favorite toys seem to be the music table from Aunt AJ, the singing helicopter from Graciela and of course, the Winnie the Pooh card that plays the Winnie the Pooh song (Joel and I attempted to download it off iTunes this morning because we know the birthday card battery will only last so long!).

Now we're gearing up for Elaine and Meredith to arrive on Thursday. They'll be spending Brice's actual first birthday with us on Friday. I'm thinking we need to do something special... lunch out? A trip with the family to the Children's Museum? An extra long bubble bath? We'll see what the day holds in store for us.

I'll be the first to admit that I'm still having a difficult time grasping the fact that my little boy is one. Where did the year go? I fear that I'll close my eyes for a brief second and Brice will be in kindergarten. Another blink and he'll be graduating from high school. Blink again and he's moving to some faraway city for his first job. Part of me wants to put him in a little shoebox in the hopes that he'll stay little and innocent forever. This morning, Joel and I couldn't help but laugh when I asked Brice for a kiss and he responded by chomping down on the tip of my nose.

The other side of me can't wait to see what an amazing man Brice will grow up to become. Graciela told me yesterday that while they were at the library for singalong time, several of the kids, including Brice, were playing with a set of Thomas trains. Apparently a "fight" ensued between a couple of the other one-ish year olds. Graciela beamed as she told me that Brice picked up one train and handed it to one boy, then picked up another to hand to a little girl and then sat down to play with the remaining train himself. Perhaps a future career with the U.N.? Maybe a hockey referee? Who knows. Needless to say, the story made me very, very proud. Brice got extra chicken nuggets for dinner :)