My Toddler, the Seagull

If you've ever seen Finding Nemo, there's this brilliant depiction of seagulls as single-minded birds that all fly around squaking, "Mine.  Mine.  Mine."  My two-year-old, having learned the word from one of her friends at daycare, has made it her own.  We have had to have several discussions about what is actually hers and what she is simply being allowed to use, although it still belongs to us--like an iPad, for example.  We have attempted to deal with each of these episodes, and I'd like to think we have made a lot of progress.  Overall, Lil' Bit does a great job sharing.  This gave me great hope for a smooth transition when the Jellybean arrives.  This weekend, however, it has become abundantly clear that the arrival of the Jellybean this fall is going to stir the pot when it comes to Lil' Bit's ownership issues.

It started with the cat.  Lil' Bit can be happily playing across the room, or even lovingly snuggled on her daddy's lap, but if the cat should dare to hop up and snuggle in my lap, she will suddenly shriek, "No, meow!  My momma!" and wave her hands wildly.  Should the cat dare to ignore her, she will run over and climb into my lap, thereby forcing the cat's displacement.  Once the cat had been moved, however, she will hop down, having successfully defended her territory.

Then came Easter Sunday.  Baby D, an adorable one-year-old, was in the nursery and she and Lil' Bit were playing and coloring together, happily.  Baby D then got up to play with the big purple ball, which she proceeded to kick across the room.  I told her, "Wow!  That was a great kick!"  Suddenly, from across the room, Lil' Bit points her finger accusingly at me and shouts, "No.  You my momma!"  In other words, "Mine!"  Guess we still have a lot of work left before our toddler is no longer a seagull.  Fortunately, we've got a few more months to work on it.

To Share or Not to Share; That is the Question

Having waited, talked, prayed, and listened, the long and short of it is, we paid our deposit and we're on the calendar for another FET in February.  Given the general timing of things, it looks like we're probably talking mid-February, which means making sure to miss Ash Wednesday since it falls nice and early on the 13th this coming year.  Other than that, I'm trying to do my best not to calculate or plan anything and just go with the flow.

I'm also trying to let 2013 be a new year, with new hopes and dreams; trying to leave my fears and disappointments from the failed FETs behind.  But, it's hard not to think about Oliver, since he was a February FET, too.  In fact, because of that, I was pretty conflicted about doing another February FET.  However, the plan was to follow the guidance we received, and that guidance said February.  So, emotional conflict or not, February it is, with shots starting sometime next month.

With that said, I don't know yet how much of the process I'll blog.  I'm just not sure what there is to say that I haven't already said.  I've already documented all the conflict, the excitement, the great roller coaster of hormones and emotions, the hope of success, the fear of failure.  I've already learned I'm tough enough to do this.  I already know how hard it is and how wonderful it is to have support.  I've already explored success, loss, and complete failure.  What I haven't explored yet is privacy.  I'm wondering what it's like to keep more of the process intimate and personal and not share as much.

In that vein, I'm interested in your thoughts, dear readers.  Do you want to come along again, or are you just as happy waiting for the big reveal?  Although I write for myself, I have been told that others have found my blog helpful.  So, tell me, is it helpful getting the day-to-day stuff, even if some of it is repetitive?  What do you find interesting?  What do you want to hear about?

In any event, for now, I'm still sharing.  And what we have to share is this:  We're trying again in February.  Here goes everything.