We have entered a new phase in Cordy’s development: the “no” phase.

She has known of the word no for quite some time now. Surprisingly, it wasn’t one of the first words she picked up, but the meaning was always clear to her. When she was just a year old, a stern “no” from me when she was getting into something she shouldn’t would lead to a moment of surprise, then the puckered up face, and then tears and disheartening cries. It was as if that simple word had caused grave injury to her soul, and for the next five minutes, nothing was right with the world.

Once she learned to say no, she was so gentle in saying it that I thought she clearly didn’t understand its power. If offered something she did not want, she would give a polite “nooooo”, the tone of which carried the message (in a proper British accent, of course): “Oh mother, tisk, tisk…were you unaware that I am currently not interested in that piece of food? How silly, mother!”

During the past few weeks, however, she seems to have learned the true force behind the word. Now, offering her something she doesn’t want is met with a loud, rude “NO!” as if she is completely insulted and disgusted that we would think to offer that thing to her.

However, the power of the word has now gone to her head, and it has become the knee-jerk response to anything asked or offered to her. She says no without thinking it through, when often she means yes. It’s almost funny to ask her, “Cordy, would you like some milk?” and have her answer “No!” as she takes the sippy cup from your hands and guzzles the contents.

She may soon regret always saying no, when someone who doesn’t understand her “no means yes” philosophy denies her a toy or treat due to her insistence that she didn’t want it. Of course, that would require her to actually look at someone other than Aaron or I.

Yes, Cordy has picked up another new toddler habit: she now closes her eyes when strangers, or sometimes even people she knows, try to talk to her. If she doesn’t want to interact, she pinches those eyelids shut and holds them tightly closed, still facing the person attempting to make contact. The message is clear: I don’t want to deal with you. If I close my eyes, then you don’t exist.

Most people are generally good-natured about this, thank goodness. And I have to laugh every time she does it, because if you were to look back through my childhood photo album, there are several pictures of me with my eyes closed. No, it wasn’t an accident – if I didn’t want to have my picture taken, I simply shut my eyes and smiled. That was when I was 5, however; Cordy seems to be a fast learner with her genetic personality traits.

Cordy has also learned to use this trick when being punished. If we tell her no, she’ll often close her eyes to us, shutting us out of her little world. After we’re quiet for a moment, she’ll open her eyes and go right back to what she was doing.

It’s fun to see her growing and learning new ways to deal with the world around her, although sometimes her methods of coping are getting a little frustrating for us. I can only hope these are short-lived stages, and soon Cordy will progress on to bigger and better ways to ignore and dismiss us.

It was a close game, but OSU proved they’re still #1. (And Michigan showed that they deserved their high #2 ranking as well.)

Cordy was dressed for the day, and enjoyed staying with my aunt to watch the game.

My aunt told me that she even cheered with everyone when OSU scored. It was certainly a lot of excitement for her, because she fell asleep in the car on the way home.

I’m glad Ohio State got the win. After all, if there’s going to be rioting anyway, I’d far rather have happy drunks than bitter drunks taking over campus.

Did you know there’s this little college football game in Columbus this weekend? OK, maybe if you’re from Canada or the UK, you might not know. But I think most of the US is aware of the famous OSU-Michigan rivalry, and this year it is even more heated due to the #1 and #2 rankings of the teams.

Oh yes, I know there’s a game this weekend. After all, I live in Columbus. And should I not know, there are plenty of signs in this city to clue me in:

– Beer is running in short supply at grocery and convenience stores. Same goes for meat and cheese party trays, mixed nuts, chips and dip.

– The radio stations are running nothing but songs about the big game. Although I have to admit, Saving Jane did a new cover of Hang On Sloopy, and it rocks.

– At my organic chemistry lab today, it was hard to miss that everyone in the class was dressed in either scarlet or grey. Thank goodness I wore a plain grey sweatshirt today, or I really would have felt out of place.

– Down the street, one house has got a jump on setting up the Christmas lights, only for now they have used the lights to spell out “Go Bucks” on the roof.

– Tailgating started late last night if you are a student. If you’re not a student, or didn’t take the day off work, the festivities began shortly after 5pm today.

– My stepfather, a crazed sports fan, had trouble sleeping last night, and will likely not sleep at all tonight before going to the game tomorrow. (To be fair, he has an anxiety disorder, and exciting events like this really set him off.)

– While walking through the grocery tonight, I witnessed many shoppers wearing football jerseys, several with their faces painted, and one girl with bright red streaks painted in her hair.

– Also while at the grocery, I witnessed a woman wearing a Michigan pullover be booed by a group of other shoppers.

– There are currently more OSU flags flying on flagpoles and on cars than there are American flags.

– Apparently there is no other news to report other than the game. Even those who were standing in line for days, waiting for a Playstation 3, don’t matter to reporters. Yesterday on the news, a reporter was out at a Best Buy talking to the people in line. Her question to the gamer geeks: Were they going to watch the big game?

So yeah, it’s hard to miss the fact that the OSU-Michigan football game is tomorrow. Those who live in Columbus know the rules of the day: unless you have tickets to the game, or want to be a part of the action, avoid the campus area and High Street at all costs. Also avoid 315 and 71 just before and after the game. If you are going near campus, and value your car, don’t park it on High Street or any street with a frat house.

And whether OSU wins or loses (and we do hope for a win), you can be certain that mayhem will break out. Oh yes, dumpsters and hapless couches will burn in the streets.

For those of you watching the game from a different city, enjoy the game! As for me, we’re dropping Cordy off at my aunt’s football party, and then Aaron and I are catching a movie with friends, knowing the theatre will be empty during the game. We can watch the game on Tivo later in the evening, safe in our house while the campus area goes crazy.

Go Bucks!

Thank you all for the virtual kick in the pants after my last post. I think I had hit a new low in self-loathing, but you all helped me put it in perspective. Pregnancy is a tough gig, and I don’t know how women who have many children do it. Being pregnant with this one has only made me more certain that this will be our last.

(And I hope that all of you who are considering baby #2 weren’t completely swayed against the idea by that post. Seriously, you could have an easy-breezy second pregnancy and no problems at all. You never know.)

I think I also had some kind of bug earlier this week, too. I wasn’t full-out sick, but it was enough to run me down even more than I was before, leaving me in a zombie-like state for several days. Each day I felt a little better, so there’s a good chance that I’m finally getting over it. Although this is a reminder to myself to go get a flu shot. Must get that done soon.

Your words of encouragement really helped me feel better. Before, I felt like no other pregnant woman complained as much as me, but then after reading your comments, I didn’t feel so alone anymore, knowing others have felt the same way, and it’s OK to admit it’s tough. It’s always better to know you’re not the only one.

My next doctor’s appt. is in two weeks, and I will probably start the conversation again about depression. We discussed it at my first appt., and my doctor told me to be aware of my feelings and let her know if I was starting to feel depressed again. While pregnant with Cordy, I was hit with a major bout of depression early in the second trimester. It came out of nowhere, and even though I was so ecstatic about being pregnant, I couldn’t shake off that dark cloud hanging over my head. When my doctor had suggested I was depressed then, I remember feeling so confused. Pregnancy is supposed to be a happy time, right? Depression wasn’t supposed to hit until post-partum, right?

Truth is, I’m one of those people who is susceptible to depression when under the influence of pregnancy hormones. It sucks, and having to make the decision to go on medication while growing a baby is probably one of the hardest things to do. The risks of antidepressants on a baby in utero are small, but small amounts of the drugs do cross the placenta. I made the decision to do it last time, and I’m not against doing it again this time, although I would prefer to hold off as long as possible.

I can’t tell for sure if depression is slowly sneaking back into my head, but after this week I am more aware of the possibility again, and I plan to keep re-evaluating it.

But I also have an amazing support network, too, which helps a lot. I have a loving husband, a family who understands what I’m going through, friends who care (including bloggy friends who give me a useful combo of loving support and stern advice to pull it together), and a child who always seems to know when I’m feeling down and takes that time to be as goofy as possible.

Today Cordy’s tactic was to tell me knock knock jokes. But not in the normal way, for she doesn’t need participation – she does the entire joke herself, pausing dramatically after each part as if to switch characters in her head, although the punchline always fades away into gibberish.

Knock, knock.
Whoz a there?
Owange
Owange who?
Owange-u gwad a benaheuskfkdaj……

Seriously, who can feel down when your toddler is doing a comedy routine for you?

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Something else that lifts the spirits? A month long, prize-a-day giveaway by a cool blogger! Check out my post on Mommy’s Must Haves for the details.

As of today, I hereby relinquish any claims I had of being a strong woman. I used to think I could take most things. I believed my pain tolerance to be high, and my sleep deprivation tolerance to be moderate. I thought I could handle most anything thrown my way. But I now realize I’m just a wimp.

This pregnancy is kicking my ass.

I don’t remember it being this hard last time. The fatigue is overwhelming, and I can’t quite figure out the right balance to keep my body happy. It could be that I have more going on this time – class, work, a toddler, etc. Last pregnancy, I worked from home, and I was able to follow my body’s lead. I could nap when I wanted, eat when I wanted, etc. I still had a lot of work to do, but I did everything on my own schedule.

With my current schedule, I often am forced to put off eating when I have a lot of appointments close together. I get more sleep than most people, but it is often interrupted several times a night by a certain Siamese cat who chooses to walk around the house yowling for no reason. Seriously, cat, it’s getting old.

And then there’s the issue of the sacroiliac joint pain. These two joints are still wobbly and as a result, cause some intense pain throughout the day. Last week, while grocery shopping, the pain reached an unbearable point as I pushed my cart through the aisles, and I did something I rarely do: I cried in public. I actually leaned on the cart and shed tears in the soup aisle of Kroger’s. A stock boy asked me if I was OK, and I explained everything to him. This poor teen, who probably wasn’t expecting to deal with a crying pregnant woman as part of his duties, took pity on me and fetched the two remaining items from my grocery list, because I couldn’t keep wandering around anymore looking for the ziplock bags and pickles.

I’m still thankful that he helped me, although it left me feeling embarrassed and ashamed of myself, too. Aren’t I supposed to handle anything thrown at me? I recovered from a c-section with little more than a bottle of ibuprofen, refusing the stronger drugs almost entirely and rushing the nurses to let me get out of bed, push past the pain and get moving. But now I’m convinced it was only a fluke, and when I experience labor for the first time with this pregnancy, I worry I won’t be able to cope at all.

There are people going through issues far worse than a little joint pain, nausea, and fatigue – moms raising kids on their own, people with serious, painful, life-threatening diseases – how can I even think I could be resilient like them? Instead, under this little bit of pressure, I crumble and fall to pieces, feeling like each day is a mountain to climb. How can I think I’ll be able to handle two children if I can’t handle a second pregnancy?

And I can’t blame anyone but myself for this feeling of helplessness. My husband has been doing as much as possible around the house, taking Cordy in the mornings on weekends to let me sleep, and trying to be sympathetic to my complaints. But I’m sure he’s wondering what happened to the woman who breezed through her first pregnancy. I remember, when he was asked at one point how he was dealing with a crazy pregnant woman for a wife, he told his friend that I had few cravings, few demands, and basically little had changed. I made it look easy the first time around. But this time, add in only a few more responsibilities and one complication of pregnancy, and I’m a mess who gets up each day longing to crawl back in bed again.

So yeah, forget any image you may have had of me as a strong woman. (If you even thought that at all, of course. It’s quite possible you’ve always thought me whiny.) Because the truth is, I’m a wimp. A sissy. A weakling. And I’m certainly no role model to other moms out there, at least not until I can pull myself back together and get past this insane weakness that has taken me over.