food, nutrients and bribery

Feeding a toddler is about as tricky and manipulative a process as finding a way to get out of the sex you promised your husband the night before when you told him you were too tired and you would do it "tomorrow night, I promise"...

I set my dinner menu for the week on Sunday before I hit the grocery store - in an effort to save money, save waste and save time - that hour between 5pm and 6pm where you stare at what you have in your fridge and realize that it's full but nothing goes together to make a meal. When I plan my meals, I have a few staples meals - meals I know we like and that I know Jane will eat - and a few new things every week.

Jane is a pretty good eater. I'll tell you what changed this immensely, getting rid of bottles. From, say, 18 months on (I can't remember exactly), she had been having an 8oz bottle of milk before breakfast and before bed. Thus, she wouldn't eat much before daycare in the morning and she wouldn't eat much supper because she knew, within the hour, she was gonna have a nice full belly of milk before bed. When we got rid of the bottles, here came this little appetite.

Now she eats a great breakfast - usually some whole grain toast with peanut butter, and either an apple or banana or, sometimes, both. She loves fruit. Not a veggie fan, but fruit wins every time and I'm ok with that. I wasn't/am not a huge veggie fan but I have always been a fruit addict - like I used to get in trouble for eating all the strawberries and apples before anyone else got any when I was a teenager. Not the worst issue for parents to have - way to go mom and dad! Why didn't you just buy more fruit?!?! :p

We are lucky, lucky as, being that Jane is at daycare, we don't have to worry about how she's eating throughout the day. They do snack at 9am, lunch at noon and another snack at 4pm. And, they are strictly regulated here in NS so they basically aren't allowed to have any fun foods at all - all healthy stuff, which is great, because you know she's had some nutrition throughout the day. What cracks me up about daycare is the stuff they feed them, and the stuff the kids'll eat!

I check the menu and they're having chowder and fish and casseroles and all this stuff I've never thought to make and then I see that Jane's had second servings of this stuff! I think lunches are the hardest things to plan because, on the weekends, we usually just play it by ear which means I plan nothing. Thankfully, we usually have a handy stock of that veggie KD on hand, that I mix tofu into for some form of nutrients and Jane loves this. She also, believe it or not, loves wonton soup (?). If all else fails, a trusty platter of crackers, cheese, fruit and whatever else I have in the fridge goes a long way.

Dinner can sometimes be a challenge. Like most toddlers, I would assume, Jane is not a big fan of new things. Actually, that's a bit inaccurate. It varies daily. Some days, you can plunk the strangest meal in front of her and gawk in awe and she shovels it down and asks for more. Other days, you just see her stare and know immediately you've been rejected.

Months ago, I would make her something else if she rejected any meal. That ended quickly. Now, we implement the two bite rule. She has to have at least two bites. And we use bribery 100%. Judge all you want but if Jane eats her supper, she gets a few treats after wards - usually 2-3 fruit snacks. So, we bribe her. If she wants her treats she has to eat her supper. I'm sure this goes against everything an expert would say about establishing a healthy relationship with food but, fact is, I have dessert after every dinner - a piece of chocolate, a small frozen yougurt, and I've never been obese. Plus, these experts would probably chime in and criticize me and then go home and bribe their kids the same way. Bribery is survival. It's like the overweight doctor telling you you need to lose a few pounds...

Like my bedtime routine, we have morning routines and dinner routines as well that I think contribute to our success in the eating department. These routines were not enforced or implemented purposefully, but fact is, most of us unknowingly have a routine. Kids thrive on routine. "Out of the ordinary" means stress for kids. Consistency with everything related to kids - eating, discipline, sleep, everything = peace = happiness = stress free kids = success (in my opinion). Of course, everyone needs a little spontaneity - some Saturday mornings, Jane and I will sneak out into the car in our pajamas while Dan is still sleeping and hit up Tim Hortons to share a bagel (and coffee for mom) - we call them pajama drives. We drive to see the horsies down the street, the ocean, etc. The people at Hatfield Farms have seen our car and our pajamas on many a morning. But most mornings/dinners are routine.

For example, Jane still eats in her high chair. Every night. I'm not saying your kids should. But, for us, we've found that basically locking her in is the only way to ensure she'll stay focused on eating and eat until she's full - it gives us the control over her to ensure we're not chasing her around the house while she tries to avoid having a few bites of something new, or having those last two bites that we always ask for. It gives us the control and her the focus. We've tried letting her sit at the table but we end up having to ask her to eat, having to bring her back to the table 100 times, etc. So, every night, she gets up in her "big girl chair" and that's that. She stays there until she eats her dinner and even stays there for her treats.

When all else fails and she has her obligatory "two bites" of something but still doesn't like it. She comes out of the chair, after Dan and I are finished eating our supper. I will not give her something else right away. I don't want to teach her that she can choose what she eats for dinner because I fear this will result in me making a million meals each night, playing a guessing game at what she wants - giving her the control, not a good idea - she's nearly three, she'd choose candy every time :p. As far as she knows, dinner is over and she didn't eat it. In my house, THIS is supper and that's that. If you don't like it, you starve. No, not really. Duh. But usually, we'll wait another half hour and then I'll give her something else - toast, cheese, fruit, etc. Something to fill her belly before bed.

As a back up, about six months ago, we started giving Jane vitamins. Do I believe in vitamins, not really. I'm pretty sure you pee most of them out. But it's more like vitamins for my mommy guilt. It gives me peace of mind that on the days those rare days that Jane lives off bread and macaroni she may be getting something she's missing from them.

My most important goals when getting Jane to eat is to (1) make sure she has some protein (2) make sure she has some vegetable or fruit (i'm not choosy) (3) make sure she eats enough that she's not going to get hungry at school or before bed and (4) try new things with her. The easiest thing to do as a mom is stick to the same things over and over for dinners every week and never give her anything new because, usually, new things get rejected. But, at least once a week, I try to make something new and you'd be surprised at the successes - she loves slow cooker BBQ ribs, like LOVES - won't eat anything on her plate and wants seconds. She LOVES salmon and risotto, she loves rigatoni with asiago cheese and vodka rose sauce (WTF?).

I just realized as I was typing those things that I do this without thinking... if I try something new, I always introduce it with a side dish or a protein that I know she likes. That way she's being introduced to something new with something old so it's not BAM in her face nothing she recognizes. Plus, this ensures that she'll at least get something in her belly.

You know I don't like to be advice-y. My motto is always - do what works for you and ignore anyone who tells you that's wrong. But, sometimes I like to share what works for me in case there's anything there that will help you and, in hopes, that you'll share some things back that maybe I can work in too!

So, people, SHARE! Share recipes, anything! Anybody got any good recipe sites or recipes that your babes love that you can send me the link to?? Do it up!

19 weeks pregnant

Almost... half ... way... there.... (read that as if I was crawling through the dessert, barely able to take another move, reaching for a mirage... cause that's how it feels sometimes).

BIG NEWS - I can no longer see my vagina or my feet! WOOT WOOT! :p

I have some more delightful news - I didn't get "in trouble" at my docs appointment yesterday! I know, roll your eyes now, why do I subject myself to such things and take it so to heart. Partially because I'm crazy, partially because I'm pregnant, mostly because I'm a female. I've got another 4 lbs on which was miraculous being that last time I checked the scale it was saying 6 lbs. Personally, I'm over it. I'm handing myself over to the Gods of food and enjoying it.

In typical weigh-in day style, I totally pigged out with Dan last night - chips, oreos, etc. My rationalization is always that I have another four weeks to deal with the consequences before I have to be herded onto the scale again.

Everything is going well so far. Blood pressure is good - this is the only test I always pass. You'll be happy to know my pee is good. :p AND, in passing, as the docs talking to himself going over my chart to see if there's anything he missed, he says "... your maternal serum was negative..." Um. Isn't this something you'd want to point out to a patient, instead of mentioning it by accident? I mean, it doesn't mean that everything is perfect but it, at least, is a good indicator that things are going well so far. You might want to let a momma know this, no?

I LOVED that when my doc was trying to find the baby's heart beat we could literally hear him/her bouncing around in there and basically he was chasing the baby around my belly. I love having big movers. Jane was a big mover and I just loved feeling her move all the time - it made me feel closer to her, (it's going to get corny now) but I felt like she was trying to communicate with me... like, "I like this sugar mom"! :p

I've been sleeping horribly lately... and, so, the exhaustion has not passed at all. Tossing and turning from midnight on basically. Getting up, getting the body pillow. Kicking the body pillow off because it's making me warm. It's like -5 outside at night (Celsius for my US friends) and, if I had it my way, I'd be sleeping with the window open - I am roasting at night. I wake Dan up every night to get him to move away from me because he's like a freakin' heater and, somehow, in a king size bed, he can still find a way to put his feet in my space and then get pissed at me for nudging them out of the way.

Seems like my face has decided to stick with me instead of peeling off and a lot of the red, itchy, peeling skin spots have healed which is pleasant. I've become content with the fact that Cindy Crawford (my perfectly placed pimple that's been around since mid-January) has just become a permanent resident on my face. It's no longer a pimple, just a bright red spot next to my lips.

Does this sound strange? People keep asking me if I have a "feeling" about what the sex of the baby will be... here's my "feeling". I feel like it's a boy, but I think we'll have a girl. Does that make any sense?? Everyone I know is having doubles - two boys, two girls, etc. So I think we'll probably have a girl. But, for some reason, even before I was pregnant, I felt like we were going to have a boy. Honestly, I'm just excited to meet this little person and see what he/she looks like and, eventually, what little personality will come out of there.

Anyways, I'm off to eat some more oreos being that I have 3 weeks and 6 days until my next "weigh-in".

PS - After my doc didn't pester me about the weight gain, I decided not to ask for the immediate ob/gyn referral - partly because it's so much easier and more convenient (location and time wise) for me to see him and partly because I didn't want to hurt his feelings. Amazing how I can be such a b.i.t.c.h. most of the time and sometimes I turn into a w.i.m.p. :p

whats-in-the-news wednesday

OK, I was going to do my typical what's-in-the-news post and the first article I came across was titled "10 Things Never To Do To a Happy Baby"... so I'm thinking that it's going to say things like:

• Don't drop a happy baby
• Don't hit a happy baby
• Don't, basically, do anything to a happy baby - why mess with a good thing

Instead, it had a really nice list of things that all of us our guilty of doing, or nearly doing, at one time or another.

Here's my version of the list. It's the NOT-TO-DO list.

1. When your child falls asleep in the car, start singing loudly. Yell. Clap. Wiggle their legs aggressively. Honk the horn and swerve. Do whatever you can to keep them awake because you know they won't nap as long in the car as they will at home. In truth, I've pretty much actually done this because it's partially true. But, maybe, not recommended and definitely not intended to keep a child happy. 

2. Check your child's diaper regularly throughout the night. Anytime it's wet, or even damp, turn on the lights, give 'um and shake to wake 'um up and change that nasty diaper. It might take them an hour to fall back to sleep and you'll be exhausted for the first three years of their life, but it's definitely the best way to avoid diaper rash. 

3. Make sure that your child knows the correct way to colour a picture. If he or she deviates outside the lines or uses tries to use a blue crayon to colour Elmo, immediately take the crayons away and show him how it's done. In fact, lead by example all together and never let your child colour - you should be the only one doing the colouring until they understand how to do it properly. Creative expression is over rated.

4. If you've paid money for an expensive child show, exhibition, movie or amusement park, you keep your darn child there until closing time, tears or no tears. Get your money's worth. This is an important life lesson. 

5. Add salt, cheese or ketchup to your child's food without asking - every kid needs more sugar, salt and fat. They are part of the important building blocks of strong bones - like calcium and protein. 

6. When your child drops her beloved blankie or stuffed animal on the ground, freak out and throw it in the garbage in front of them. The ground is dirty and our children should be protected from every possible particle of dirt - this includes germs. Never let your child touch anything, ever. If, by God, they touch something like, dear Lord no, the handle of the Walmart shopping cart - immediately grab the Purell out of your purse and dunk them in it. Try to avoid the eyes, if possible. 

7. If your child seems completely comfortable and content, this is the time to adjust his pants or his t-shirt because it's not looking right. Tighten the belt, do up all the buttons, zip his chin in his jacket. Perfect. Well done. It's more important to look good than it is to be happy. 

8. See above. Also the perfect time to pull out the comb and pull it through that knot-ridden hair. This feels so good to kids, they love it. If you really want to win big, let them hang their head out the window while you drive for a few minutes, then bring out the comb. Try hard to avoid unnecessary things like detangler and gentleness as well. 

9. When your child is struggling with a puzzle or, in fact, struggling with anything... take over. Send them off to do something easier and finish the puzzle yourself. Kids have to learn that when life gets tough, you walk the heck away and let someone else solve your problems. 

10. Your preschool daughter prances out of her room in an outfit worthy of a circus performer. Tell her she looks like ridiculous, mock her a little, laugh out loud and then put her in the nice outfit your mother bought her from Gymboree. Implement a new rule - no picking out your own clothes until you move out of the house. You'll appreciate this rule more when she's 16. 

Happy Leap Year Day! :)

bedtime routines

It's 7:34pm in the Ellenberger house and, as usual, Jane has just gone to sleep. All is quiet. No one is crying. No one is yelling. No kicking. No screaming. Dan and I are sitting on the couch - he with a glass of wine, me with my laptop - relaxing.

Up until pre-Christmas, Jane's bedtime used to be 6:30pm. She'd go to sleep at 6:30pm and sleep until 6:30am. Including a 1.5-2 hour nap during the day. This was great but also hard. It was great to have so much time to ourselves at the end of the day but also hard to only get an hour or so with Jane after work/daycare before bedtime.

When the time changed in November, we went through a transition stage... that. was. hell. Jane started waking up at 4am. Every. Morning. I was in my first trimester. It wasn't pretty. I was literally, waking up with her, putting on the tv, and falling asleep while she snuggled in my arms. Falling asleep while my child was awake next to me watching tv. Mom of the year.

We stuck with everything for a while, unchanged, waiting to see if it was a phase that would pass. But, at Christmas, we ended up moving her bedtime to 7:30pm and, after a week or so of adjustment, she started sleeping until 6:30 am again. THANK. GOD. Dan said we needed to do it for me more than Jane. Apparently I'm not nice when I'm tired.

Here's the thing. 6:30 or 7:30, the number one response I get from a lot of other moms when they find out how early Jane goes to bed is "oh my God, how do you get her to sleep so early?" Not in a bad way, in an envious way. It's usually followed by "______ won't go to bed until ____".

Here's how I do it.

I put Jane to bed at 7:30 pm. Every night. No questions asked.

I don't wait for her to look tired. I don't ask her if she's ready for bed. I don't let time slip away from me. She is in her bed at 7:30 pm. The end. If she doesn't fall asleep right away (which happens extremely, extremely rarely), she does not come back downstairs. She stays in her bed. That's it.

Part of our success in this (I say our, cause Dan's truly a parent in my house too) is routine. Ever since the DAY - literally - Jane came home from the hospital, we started a routine with her. We did bathtime, boobtime and bedtime. We did it at the same time every night. Like I said. We didn't wait for her to look tired. I never did. Even when she napped during the day. We had a schedule. Now, at that point, she set the schedule. I'm not one of those crazy people who tries to put their newborn on a schedule. I'm not that anal or control-freaky - not that there's anything wrong with those of you who are. I let her set the schedule and then I stuck to her schedule. Every four weeks or so the schedule changed, it would take me a week to figure that out, and then we'd get back on it.

But bedtime never changed, no matter how screwed up naptimes might have been during the day.

So, what's our routine now? You'll be happy to know boobtime no longer occurs. :p

As time went on, the routine changed as our little baby turned into an infant and then a toddler. Bathtime, boobtime, bedtime was replaced by bathtime, bottletime, bedtime then bottletime, booktime, bedtime to what it is now quiettime, booktime and bedtime. We only do bath every other night in our house.

Usually at 6:45pm or so we start setting the stage. Whatever Jane is doing - playing, watching tv, whatever - I start telling her that it's almost time for bedtime and that she only has a few more minutes to play.

At 7pm, "it's bedtime"... we're upstairs. If it's bath night, we're in the bath - I still get in the bath with Jane because it's hilariously fun. If not, Jane has some quiet time (which is really just tv-free time) playing with my iPAD on my bed - doing puzzles, reading stories, etc. I don't like to let her watch tv right up until bedtime, I feel like it's too much stimulation. I'm not sure the iPAD is much better but Jane likes to do puzzles and listen to her nursery rhymes and such so it's just quieter and less "BLAH" in your face. At quarter after, we move to the bedroom. No lights on. Just a lamp. I've ALWAYS implemented this rule. It may seem obvious, but not to all. When it's bedtime (or nighttime wakings for those with newbies), lights are kept low. We read two stories - when I say this, I smile, because Jane tells me "I read two stories, like this" and she holds up her two fingers like a peace sign. Too cute.

Jane is SO invested in this routine that she will tell it to you. After you read the stories, she lies down. We tuck her in with her blankie, "turn on my music, big kisses, turn off my light" (that's Jane telling you her routine).

Sometimes I reinforce that when she wakes up she just needs to say "oh mommy, where are you?" and that she doesn't have to cry because "big girls don't cry when they wake up because mommy is always right outside the door"... I think it's important to teach your babes this or something similar. When our kids are babies, what do they do when they wake up to get your attention? They cry. They cry and we come. As they get older, if you don't teach them, somehow, that they don't need to cry and that they can get your attention another way, then what else are they gonna do but cry? We've taught Jane the "oh mommy" thing and it's hilarious. I wake up every morning laughing when she literally repeats, word for word, "oh mommy, where ARE YOU?" over and over in a happy girl voice.

Here's my second tip and it relates to big-girl (or boy) beds. We've never, ever, ever, ever, told Jane that she can get out of her bed when she wakes up. We've never said "if you wake up, you can get out of your bed and come get mommy" or "go play with your books until mommy comes in". I know that some parents like to do things this way and that's fine - oftentimes it's in an effort to get a bit more sleep which I can appreciate. For us, I feel like it's been a blessing. My concern, with teaching Jane it's ok to get out of bed, is that if she woke up throughout the night, she'd be getting out of bed and coming to our room... which, of course, could result in another challenging habit. Also, oftentimes, she'll make a few peeps early in the AM and then go back to sleep for another hour or so. Again, I'd be concerned she'd end up in our bed at that point. SO, for us, it worked best to implement the above "oh mommy" strategy and I get into her room as quickly as I can so that she doesn't get impatient and try to get out of bed by herself. I literally (maybe I'm crazy) don't even want her to know she has that option. :p

This has resulted in a good outcome for us in that, even in those rare times where she doesn't go to sleep right away (sometimes she sings for a little bit :p) or during those days where she has no interest in having a nap - she will stay in her bed and have some quiet time. She'll chat to herself or sing, and every one still gets some quiet time.

As always, I'm not saying my way is the highway. We do what works for us. These are the little things that we do that work for us. Maybe there's something there that can work for you - maybe you have something to share that works for you. Bring it on! :)

Happy sleeping!

i can't do it

I've been writing a post for an hour. I can't post it. It sucks.

I'm tired and grouchy and I just yelled at Dan for reading while I write over my shoulder.

THIS is pregnancy.

Anyone who tells you that you aren't grouchier, more emotional and all-in-all crazy during pregnancy is lying to you. They will probably also tell you that labour isn't that bad with the drugs and that being a parent is easy.

I sat here writing this stupid post that I've now tossed in the virtual garbage bin because I was trying too hard. Trying too hard to use my brain. It took me at least a minute to try to come up with the word I wanted to use that I couldn't remember, that once I remembered it, ended up being "encouragement". Blank slate.

Last night, I was so busy with my new project - which my initial post was about that sucked - that I didn't eat after supper. This is a both a tragedy and a success. I was pissed when I realized it was 9:30pm and I was exhausted and I hadn't eaten anything for a snack. Even though I wasn't hungry. SO, I had a piece of chocolate just to spite my metabolism. SCREW YOU METABOLISM - you will not win against my fight to put on excess wait!

Tonight. It's 8:10pm I'm literally minutes away from sleep and I'm stopping writing this crappy, useless post right now because I'm going to eat something unnecessarily because I just want to eat something. My moms in town and so, now, the combination of my husband and my mother has resulted in watching some business show on CBC that, at this point, is so far above my head, I have nothing better to do than suffer in silence and, perhaps, distract them with my tempting snack so they leave the room while I switch to TMZ.

I hope, for your sake, that tomorrow I can find something more interesting than spewing out the exact thoughts as they come into my brain to share with you.

Wishing you a delicious and calorie-rich, fat cell expanding, post-dinner, pre-bedtime snack. I don't want to "go down" by myself. It's always more fun to do something together.

18 weeks pregnant

This post got post-poned (I am so cool) to today due to Wednesday night's adventure.

I scheduled my 20 week ultrasound this week - March 14th! I'm nervous and excited and, of course, feeling like March 14th is as far away as cars that fly... For those of you from different areas, if you are considered a "normal" pregnancy, you only get one ultrasound here, at 20 weeks. Here's my issue/concern/problem with this... how do you know if I am having a normal pregnancy if you don't do an ultrasound until 20 weeks? I may not have bleeding, or cramps, or high blood pressure, or family history. But how does family history start? Don't get me going on this.

I have another scheduled doctors appointment next week. I'm dreading it for many reasons. One of which is the fact that at my last appointment, I'd put on 3.5 lbs and the doc tells me "it's a little more than we like to see" (I make a scrunched up, wiener face every time I say that cause it pisses me off). Um. Confession. At my last appointment, I was at 137.5lbs. I got on the scale a few days ago. 143lbs. Uh oh. Eeek. This is what's nuts about pregnancy. Within like a week I went from 139lbs to 143lbs. Like BAM! It may have something to do with the fact that I bought a 24 pack box of sour licorice straws a few weeks ago. Along with the cookies, chips, poptarts, etc. And, now I've written it all off. Thankfully, I've already recruited a friend for my post-baby weigh-in-wednesday program which is generally a failure but fun for you to read about. :p It's mostly me whining about how I'm trying to lose the post-baby weight... meanwhile, I'm sitting in front of the computer eating a king sized chocolate bar while I tell you how frustrating it is to eat healthy and exercise and not lose a pound. tee hee hee.

So, the other reason I'm dreading my docs appointment is that I'm going to request to be referred to an ob/gyn now vs. waiting until 32 weeks. As part of my job, I get to see ob/gyns all the time and they keep telling me to get referred now. Here's why I dread it. I have this weird intimidation, don't want to hurt your feelings, don't want to be a pain in the a** thing with my doctor. I'm worried he's going to ask me why. I'll tell him why. He won't think that's a good enough reason. And, then, as opposed to my normal fight-till-the-end strategy of life, I'll agree with him and not cause a fuss... even though I really want to go to an ob/gyn now! Why do I want to get referred to an ob/gyn so bad? A little bit because I want a female but also because of the above weight situation. I put on 38lbs with Jane. Yeah, there was probably 10 lbs there of Cadbury Fruit and Nut bars that didn't necessarily need (need is a relative term) to be there but, you know what, I was fine with that. I know he didn't do it on purpose, but my doc made me feel like I was a big fat failure sometimes. I can't stand that this time. It's already bothering me and, personally, I just don't think that's right. If I was gonna pack on 100 lbs, yeah, he has a right to say something and be concerned for me. But, give me a break dude. 38 lbs. I think I put on 20 lbs in first year of university and I was not "eating for two".

Recently I saw a friend post on facebook about the gestational diabetes test - and that gross orangey poppy drink they make you chug. One of my other friends said she opted out of this test. So, I'm like, you can opt out? Nope. She rebelled! :p She said, I'm not doing it. I don't have any signs. I don't have a history. Screw you! She is my hero. Part of me would like to go to my docs and say, you know what doc-ta, I ain't gettin on your ridiculously inaccurate scale with all my clothes on after I've had heavy oatmeal for breakfast, a tims double-double and haven't pooped in like 45 days (sorry, TMI). I know I won't put on an unhealthy amount of weight with this pregnancy and THEREFORE, I'm taking your weight tracking chart and telling you to SCREW IT. HA! How do you like dem apples? But, like I said, I have no balls with my doctor so instead I'll whimper next week when he starts giving me diet and exercise tips because I've put on like 10 lbs in four weeks or whatever the scale gets up to by next Wednesday.

Aside from my apparent issues with doctors and my weight, I feel good! :) I am feeling a little more movement this week which is fun.

Hard to believe I'm two weeks from half way there. The summer seems so far away... we'll get there.

Happy Friday!

my night with the cops and the boogie man

Last night was an adventure. An adventure involving bravery, sacrifice and will power.

Bravery of those other than me. I'm only proud that I didn't grab Jane and hide in the attic like I've envisioned doing so many times (my version of a panic room).

Sacrifice in my need to not be an inconvenience to anyone.

Will power in not killing the cause of all this adventure.

Here's the story. If you don't have ten minutes, come back later. I'm a story teller. It's gonna be a long one.

Background facts necessary for understanding and sympathizing:

• Dan's out of town for the night for work
• Jen had slight addiction to A&E cop shows about 5 years ago that resulted in extreme fear and caution involving potential break-ins, murder, rape, kidnapping, crime of any nature - extreme...

So, I'm off to bed... I take care of my typical, Dan-is-out-of-town-tonight-and-I-must-take-every-precaution-to-protect-Jane-and-I routine - which includes but is not limited to (I can't tell u everything) bringing my cell phone to bed with me, turning on all exterior house lights, double checking door locks and leaving Molly (a.k.a. annoying mini barking dog) downstairs to sleep - she's my canary in a coal mine... I know if Molly is not barking, I have nothing to worry about (unless she's been taken out, of course). This also includes scouring the kitchen for items Ernie (kitten with a death wish) may decide to knock off the counter/table, etc. that would result in the house alarm going off unnecessarily and resulting in my ultimate death due to fear-induced heart attack. Yes. I am this crazy. Some people fear diseases. Some people fear the end of the world. I fear the boogie man.

I am not the girl who says "it will never happen to me"...

I have this feeling tonight. I just feel it. I know the alarm is going to go off. I can't explain it. I just have a feeling.

I turn on the house alarm regardless. Look out my bedroom window (which overlooks the back patio) to make sure in the five minutes since I've come upstairs, no one is stalking the backyard or looking in the back windows. And turn off my lamp to go to sleep.

12:00am. House. Alarm. Sounds.

Holy Fuck.

I'm sorry. I know I usually don't swear "out loud" on the blog but this was a holy eff moment and I'm trying to paint the picture of what I was going through.

I check the alarm pad and see from the code that the glassbreak detectors in the kitchen have been activated. I run to my trusty window, thankful I implemented my outdoor light strategy, and see that there is no one lurking in the backyard. At least, not anymore. My heart is pounding through my fingertips now. I turn off the alarm and open my bedroom door. Molly's not barking. Good sign. Ernie is sitting in the hallway looking at me like "what?".

I'm WAY to freaked to go downstairs to take a look around the house. And, since Molly's not reacting, I'm thinking it must have been the cat or the dog who set it off in the first place. The alarm company calls seconds later, and I tell her this and hang up.

I man the alarm again right away. Get into bed. Power up the iPad for a long night of lying awake until the sun comes up and the boogie man disappears with the dark of night.

My alarm starts beeping. The "trouble" light is on. The "trouble" light means (1) I've lost power (2) I've lost my phone line.

I call Dan and wake him up. "The alarm went off."
"What?" (Dan obviously still in "is this a dream or is my wife crazy" mode)
"The house alarm just went off and I think it might have been one of the animals but now I'm freaking out because I just turned the alarm back on and (picking up the house phone and turning on...) the phone lines dead..."
"What?"
"The phone lines are dead Dan. The alarm just went off. I just told the girl not to send the cops and now my phone line is dead. I think someone just cut the phone line..."

So, yeah. I'm freakin the eff out but basically just yelling at Dan, who's trying to calm me down, for leaving me for the night (because it's his fault someone is trying to kill me). I decide to be brave and head downstairs to take a look around to see if I can find the original cause of the alarm. I keep Dan on the phone and instruct him to call 911 if I scream or he loses me on the phone. I'm sorry. It's funny now but it wasn't last night.

I turn on every light switch at hand. Molly's glances up from the couch, groggy-eyed. Another good sign. The dog barks if you fart too loudly.

I search through the kitchen. Nothing. No water glasses broken on the floor. No bowls off the table. Nothing in the sink. No toys toppled over. Nothing. I glance outside. Nothing. No cause, in the house, for the alarm going off.

I check the phone downstairs, dead.

So, now, what do I do? It's been 30 mins since the original alarm went off.

Dan tells me to call the cops. Not the 911 cops but the "come by and check it out" cops.

Oh. What I just realized I forgot to mention at this point is that I've already cried 2-3 times by now. I am not a crier. This is a blessing of pregnancy.

I call the dispatch centre and proceed to tell my story to the friendly lady while including details about how I've been swearing at my husband because, somehow (again), it's his fault someone is trying to kill me. She's laughing. She offers to send someone out and I feel bad so I ask her if she thinks it's necessary. She tells me to call the alarm company and check if they've tied up my phone line for some reason, then to call her back and she'll send someone out.

I call my old friend Bob from the alarm company, surely waking him and his entire family up... I don't care. He asks me about the codes, we laugh about me yelling at Dan, etc. etc. All while Dan is calling a hundred times on the other line because, I lost him when I called the cops and called Bob immediately, and Dan is probably thinking I'm dead by now. Bob tells me it's likely the cable company is doing work in my area (at midnight???) and that I shouldn't be worried. He does say he is concerned about the original reason for the alarm. He doesn't seem to think it's a strange coincidence that 10 mins after my alarm randomly goes off, my phone lines go dead. We say our goodbyes and I feel better. Yeah. Like if I was a 10 out of 10 on the freaked meter, now I'm an 9.57.

I call Dan back, cry again, yell again. And start to say goodbye because he's trying to calm me down again and that's just making me more upset. I tell him I'm going to stay awake until the sun comes up... I tell him what Bob said about the cable company theory and, this is why I love him, he forces me to call the cops back and ask them to come check out the house. This is one thing I know about myself. I HATE asking for help. I HATE inconvenience people. I HATE asking for anything. I cry while I'm on the phone with the cops this time... awesome. I make sure to tell this lady I'm pregnant, twice, and that I usually do not cry to so much. I don't think she finds me funny.

She says she'll send someone right away. I get dressed into an I-just-woke-up-but-I-found-a-nice-pair-of-leggings-and-a-sweater "on the floor" outfit... I'm freaked out, but apparently I'm able to keep my cool enough to still have my priorities in order when a man-in-uniform is coming to the house. My Mom would be so proud. I'm the daughter who takes time to put her best dress on while the house is burning down.

I'm downstairs now, still on the phone with Dan in case there's someone lurking around the corner, waiting for the cop to pull up. I've actually gotten the "balls" now to look out the front window, where I was previously sure I'd see a car waiting for the man trying to kill me. But there's nothing.

Then I hear it....

Cling. Cling. Cling.

The ting of metal on a porcelain bowl.

I turn around to see Ernie pawing at his food dish... which is upside down. On the floor. Off the table.

Holy mother of effin eff eff bags and s*** effer you better run for your life (he's still alive, I swear).

The cop pulls up right after I notice this.

I come prancing out the door, Molly in my arms so she doesn't bark. Soon as the cop gets out of his car, I start crying again because I'm so nervous, scared, relieved, embarrassed, and a bazillion other things. I am in love with him immediately. He tells me right away that the cable company is at the end of the street and is working on the phone lines. He asks me to tell him what happened. He tells me that it's his job to give me peace of mind. I love him. I don't tell him that I've since discovered that my stupid-a**, going to punish him by pushing him the bathtub every time he's on the edge for the rest of his life, kitten is responsible for my alarm going off in the first place - which, when combined with the cable guy news, basically means he's at my house for no reason. I say stupid things like "you guys actually have note pads?" and "this is my first time actually talking to a cop!" I am so cool. But, seriously, despite all the facts at that point, when the man says "I'm going to go out and take a look around your property ma'am", I am thinking "my hero" (a la old fashion movie, southern accent, sigh). I watch him walk around the back with his flashlight and curse, realizing, he's probably cursing too cause he definitely just stepped in dog poop in the backyard... he leaves after saying "my name is lenny by the way" and I sigh again, complete admiration of his bravery to walk around my dark house by himself when I wouldn't even come downstairs.

I feel immediate relief.

Bed time.

Before I fall asleep, I take a minute to think of the cooler things I could have said to the cop. I envisioned me inviting him in for a coffee and chatting about his work, his stories, and so on. I am so cool. Then I think about him a little more seriously. Like, this was nothing for him. To come to my house, not knowing what to expect, all by himself. I mean, I'm pretty sure the smartest way to go about that job is to always assume the worst. And he goes around my house, no biggie, by himself, with his flashlight. What if the boogie man was back there?? Cops are dreamy... male and female. I am officially in love with them all. If I knew where "lenny" would have been today, I would have dropped off cookies and coffee and love notes and anything that would make him realize how much his small gesture of not judging me and not discrediting my fear meant to me.

Today, I am exhausted. Dan is exhausted. I love him. Despite yelling at him, I love him for stepping up and being the protective husband and forcing me to call the cops. Being that, obviously, I'm somewhat crazy about these things, he generally tells me I'm crazy and to go to bed. But last night, he was my white knight on a blackberry. I surprised him with way-too-expensive Jerry Seinfeld tickets this morning as a thank you and a sorry for yelling at you even though I needed you and it obviously wasn't your fault the cat and the cable company made me think someone was trying to kill me while you were out of town...

The cat is still alive. I'm considering options for future sleeping arrangements. Maybe I'll start feeding him lard so he'll get so fat he can't even get off the couch... maybe I'll refrain from talking about my plans for animal abuse on a public forum. :p

Wishing you a safe and happy evening...