For those who were looking for the videos in the old Celtic Man post through the link in the last post, I've replaced the broken video links with different (not necessarily better) videos from Youtube. Also, I've added new commentary.
So I went in for my ultrasound on Tuesday to see what's what. They found no signs of any abnormalities associated with Trisomy 13 or 18, so that's good news. They did find an enlarged stomach (the baby's, not mine, although I'm certain they noticed that as well) though, which can be associated with Downs Syndrome. However, given that when I had my Downs Syndrome screening I came out with a lower chance of it than when I went into the screening, they're basically ruling that out as a possibility. Worst case scenario is the baby has a blockage in the intestines which would be fixed with surgery as soon after birth as possible. But more likely than that, there's just a bunch of amniotic fluid in there that hasn't passed out of the stomach and into the bladder yet. So I go back in five weeks to be looked at again to see if it's any smaller. Hey, could be worse.
Good news folks! My blood pressure went down slightly, but the OB wasn't nearly as thrilled about this as I was since it's supposed to go down in the second trimester anyway. But I was in the second trimester when it was going up, so I still claim it as a good sign that all of you stealing my child is working. Thank you so much! And even though she keeps asking me why I keep taking her to her friends' houses (can you guess how often she saw her friends before?), she's still thrilled either way. Thanks to all of you givers out there. And for all of you non-givers, I totally don't blame you. Honest.
Speaking of Peawhistle, she had a bit of a run-in with her instructors at gymnastics a week ago. Because these people serve peanuts directly out of their vending machines, I can't keep Peanut in the waiting room while we wait for PW's class to get over. So I drop off PW and Peanut and I drive around or go to the grocery store or whathaveyou until her class is nearly done and then we go hang out in the doorway for five minutes until she comes out. Every week. Yes, it's just as fun as you're imagining. Anyway, when I went to greet her at the door as she was coming out her instructor (20-ish; surly) informed me that PW had been "nasty" to her teachers that day on the beam. Now, I've seen PW be a little jerk before, but it's almost always completely unintentional. I've never seen her do anything I would label as outright nasty behavior. She's a good kid who has absolutely no tact and very strong opinions (more on that below). But nasty? Hm. So I asked her what she did and apparently PW had been trying to walk across the beam as instructed, but when the teachers went to take her hand to help her across, PW insisted most strenuously and none-too-kindly that she wanted to do it by herself and she didn't need their help. And when they grabbed for her hand anyway, she tried to slap it away. Now, the slapping is inexcusable. I don't tolerate that crap. I've seen her do it many, many times mind you, usually to me, but that doesn't mean it's OK. So I made her apologize to her teachers for being mean, I chastized her all the way home, her father lectured her when he got home, and I reminded her throughout the week that she has to be nice to her teachers because they're there to help her and keep her safe, not hinder her independence as she suspects, and they know what's safe and she doesn't. I told her about her older cousin who was doing something across the beam and wasn't being spotted when she fell and broke...some limb, I can't recall. Not important. Anyway, I think I got the point across. So all week I reminded her that she was to be nice to the teachers and that if she was mean even one more time she would be pulled out of gymnastics permanently.
So this week I asked a kind lady at church to babysit Peanut at home so I could sit and watch PW to make sure she wouldn't wield havoc on the entire gymnasium. And as I watched her walk across the beam all by herself (something she used to refuse to do out of fear) with her teachers merely watching her, I realized why she got upset: she actually CAN do it alone and she knew it. And I was reminded of something Peter's mother, Jenny, said a long time ago. Jenny, Greta, and I were sitting around talking about our kids behind their backs and Jenny said that PW is a very good, sweet kid who plays well on her own and is very nice to others, etc. But she does NOT like being told what to do. And it hit me that that is PW's biggest problem in general when it comes to why she gets in trouble at home or anywhere else. She's a great kid right up until you tell her to do something. And then her head spins around and fire shoots from her eyes and we wind up having to call in the exorcist. AGAIN. And then I realized with a mixture of horror and pride that I am exactly the same way. I mean, exactly. For example:
Poor, unsuspecting individual: "Peawhistle, would you please help me clean up the toys?"
Peawhistle: "Why, sure!" (actually, she says "shee-you-er;" she has the weirdest accent)
PUI: "Peawhistle, clean up the toys."
PW: "NO! NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO!!!!!!"
PUI: "Hey Abby, would you volunteer to help out with so-and-so some time?"
Me: "Yeah, I'll look at my calendar and see what I can do."
PUI: "Abby, I need you to do this."
Me: "Yeah, well I need you to go to hell."
You see what I'm getting at. Essentially, we both have a major problem with authority, and I in particular have a problem with those who believe erroniously they hold some authority over me but have yet to prove how this is possible in any way or fashion. And I will gladly tell them this. Peawhistle hasn't yet developed a sense for who actually has authority over her and who does not, but she is sure as hell certain that it doesn't include everyone who's telling her they do. That's my girl.
So my point in telling you all this is to serve as my private warning, particularly to those very kind individuals who have volunteered to take her for an afternoon and have yet to discover for themselves what it's like to order her to do something. Because that sweet smiling face that you all can't believe could turn hideously deformed in a second? Believe you me, it's there. Waiting. Waiting for you to screw up your courage enough to test her limits.
For the record, PW behaved wonderfully in gymnastics this week, doing everything she was told to do, including taking her instructors' hands while on the beam when they dared stretch it forward to her. It took convincing her they were there for her safety and not just because they were jerks who like to boss her around. Safety: cool; bossing: screw you, lady. So don't say I didn't warn you.
Oh, I almost forgot.
I am now taking name suggestions for the newest Pea-? in our blogpod. I liked Kristi's "SweetPea" suggestion from ages ago, but I'm also open to other ideas. Anything?