I immediately hated being pregnant. I felt awful, and the anxiety kept me up most nights. I had horrible panic attacks that something was going to happen to the baby or to me. It was a long 40 weeks. I hired a doula to help with my anxiety during labor. That turned out to be a total bust as she hounded me the whole pregnancy with fear tactics about how my posture was going to cause a csection. The day I went into labor I patiently timed contractions all day long. They didn't hurt, and so I was pretty sure this wasn't going to be "it". Everyone talks about how first time moms usually go to L&D at least once when they really aren't in labor so I figured if I went it would be nothing. I called the doula that evening and told her my stats. She flatly informed me I wasn't in labor. I couldn't sleep so Andrew and I stayed up and watched Christmas Vacation and a special on Hugh Hefner. I still couldn't sleep so I called the midwife on duty and she said to come on in, might as well get it checked out. Determined to not be embarrassed any more than necessary I refused to let Andrew use the labor and delivery valet. We parked in the deck and walked across the street. I didn't bring anything in with me because I knew I'd feel really stupid hauling stuff in only to be sent home. When the midwife checked me I was already about 4 1/2 cm. They told me I'd be having a baby soon and I think I was still in denial. We kept putting off calling the depressing doula until early that morning. When we did call her we weren't able to reach her and we were relieved. We hung out, I took hot showers and walked around. At one point I felt such intense pressure I thought for sure it was time to have the baby. They told me I wasn't quite there yet. Finally they said I was ready and the Weebles was born within 20 minutes or so. It was much, much easier than I'd expected. I left the hospital early, after only about 24 hours. We struggled like hell with breastfeeding for the first several weeks. I ended up pumping and feeding her with a bottle the first month or two. She lost weight and took forever to gain it back. We were worried. The first few days I was totally possessive of her. I'd get this feeling like I wanted to snatch her away from visitors and protect her from everything. Hormones are f'd up things.
I have always wanted to be a mom. The tiny clothes, the big hugs, the enormous responsibility of shepherding a new little life, knowing someone else that was part of me... plus just the sheer domesticity of it. I eat that kind of thing up. I could not wait to start a family. Then, I met Andrew. When we started dating he was still in undergrad and had plans to go to law school. Sadly, this meant waiting (and waiting... and WAITING...) to start our little family until he was out of school and working. Being just a tad on the impatient side, ahem, I had been doing my studying to give us the best opportunity possible for getting pregnant right away. I did the whole charting thing for months in advance so I'd know exactly what patterns to expect. The insurance from his job didn't kick in for three months and we feared pregnancy would be a pre-existing condition so we waited until October and it was go time. When I didn't get a positive test that first month I was really disappointed. I knew it could take several months but I really hoping that we would be able to surprise our families with the news at Christmas. The weekend after Thanksgiving I saw the very faintest possible second line. It didn't even have any color... it was just sort of a colorless indention. I must've taken 30 tests that weekend. Finally I went and got of the expensive fancy tests that just says PREGNANT or NOT PREGNANT on it. I dutifully put it away to wait to take it first thing in the morning as the instructions say but ended up not being able to wait past 3 am... I woke Andrew up, still in shock. He mumbled something about "awesome" then started to doze back off. I laid awake the rest of the night thinking "what the f#(* did we just do?, are we even qualified for this?"
Too. Much. Internet. I read an article last night (not online, thankyouverymuch) about moms that spend too much time online. It is easy to do. Between keeping up with friends, researching milestones/symptoms, looking for new activities to do with the kids, and most importantly.. shopping online I can easily spend up to 8 hours a day piddling around on the internet. Generally I am nursing the Peanut, or the kids are napping or I'm just doing a quick email check in the middle of playtime but still it is time I am taking away from spending with my kids. It is easy to feel isolated when you are home with two small children all day every day. I spend 10 hours a day by myself for the most part and the internet is a vital part of how I stay connected to the outside world. So while I don't think it is possible for me to give it up entirely I am going to try for the next week to be more mindful of the time I spend aimlessly reading through the latest on my baby chat rooms or looking for yet another Carter's sleeper. My mom blogs? Yeah.. not giving those up. :)
Have you ever had a really productive day only to follow it up with a day where you hardly managed to get out of bed? Yeah, I'm having one of those follow up days. I don't know why I can't seem to get into the swing of things today. The Weebles struggled with her nap and never fell asleep so that's always good for throwing the entire day off. I tried cranking the radio and dancing around with the kids but that didn't even cheer us up. Bleh. I had some fairly big goals for today WiiFit, Shred, and get the kitchen and porch organized. Not to mention, I don't know.. maybe play with my kids a little. Some days it seems like I spend so much time having to deal with meltdowns and interruptions that we don't actually get to have any fun. We went through a phase one time where I literally spent the entire day for several days in a row trying to get The Weebles to sleep. That was back when she was still on two naps a day. That caused us to switch to one nap to ensure she would actually go down without a fuss and to lessen the amount of time spent putting her to bed. It seemed to work until now. Let's hope she isn't going to be one of those kids that gives up their naps entirely by the time they are two. I need a nap...
I have taken the first day of spring as a challenge to get this house organized. Well... that and we have some major room shuffling to do since our son still doesn't have a bedroom ahem... I had counted on The Peanut loving to cosleep as much as his big sister and he doesn't really seem to care one way or the other about it so far. I figure he'll be moving to a room of his own much sooner than she did. So we started this weekend by breaking down and recycling approximately 400 cardboard boxes that housed the ridiculous amount of online shopping I have done in the last month or two. We also took pretty much everything out of two of our attics and have sorted through most of it creating a huge donate pile as well as quite a bit of things to throw out. It's amazing how unimportant some things seem once you have kids. High school mementos? Eh really am I ever going to miss looking back at these notes I passed in Algebra? Nah. Tons of clothes, books, and household items are going out the door and I am already feeling saner. Today I've ripped apart the laundry room and gotten it in order. To show for all our hard work we have one totally organized attic, two pretty much empty attics and a house that looks like a tornado hit it. I'm hoping that it's really not that bad and that if I can just finish up a couple of things that items will start to fall into place... that is how it works right? The inlaws are coming this weekend... what was I thinking starting such a big project? Eeek. I guess I can always just cram everything back in the attic...
The Weebles has been on a sleep strike and pairing that with her new-found flair for the dramatic does make for some interesting tantrums. It's hard to get stressed over a tantrum when the cause is so mundane. For example, she is currently obsessed with ChapStick. I can't blame her, I am too. The problem is that she eats it and that's just not going to work for me. Not only is it gross and not good for her (ugh petroleum based products, but I put too many expensive organic equivalents through the wash to justify the expense) but I am addicted to them and between her and the darn cats I'm already down to only one or two that I can find. If I do not let her have my ChapStick she will wail as though it is the end of the world. She will throw herself on the floor and scream. Being the good mom, I usually laugh. Really, what do you do? It's actually pretty funny. But I know it's important to try to help her identify and work through all these feelings she just isn't capable of handling yet. She isn't trying to be a brat to get her way, she honestly just doesn't know how to handle such awesome disappointment. So I try to keep a straight face and explain why she can't have it then divert, divert, divert. This scene is repeated at least once an hour throughout the day over my water glass, pens, her blankie, a rock, being allowed into the refrigerator, or being shut anywhere for any length of time away from me. Oh! And being put in the high chair. Holy Hand Grenades she HATES being put in that high chair. I've resorted to letting her "picnic" for meals during the day. Let's just say I had to vacuum cereal out of the sheets this morning. I think I'm going to start a list of things I never thought I'd do...
The Weebles has been talking for awhile now but her vocabulary (that we understood anyway) was limited to perhaps 20 words or so even though she understands virtually everything we say. Whether or not she listens when we say it all depends. However, just in the last week or two she has really started repeating and adding words to her vocabulary. Some favorites of mine are "otay" (okay) and "bus" and also "cheese" whenever she sees a camera. She also has started saying juice, dolly, yehyeh (for Lily) and brudder for The Peanut. When she first started to talk I was very impatient for her to say "mommy" thinking that would be my favorite thing to hear. She certainly says it plenty these days, never once at a time either. It's usually "mommy, mommy, mommy, mommy... ut oh mommy" and I do love hearing her say it. But what surprised me was how much more I love hearing her say her own name. It is really adorable. You can point to her in a picture and she will get excited and say JEWIE! It's so cute that I've caught myself calling her Jewie. Just for the sake of record keeping some other often used words are: bubble, oopth (oops), widgee (Widget), paci, banyee (blankie), daddy (of course), Papa, CiCi, nana (banana), cup, wow wow, no no no, up up!, bear, mee mees (nummies), baw (ball), baby, mo mo (more, with sign), shoes, night night, and GO GO GO. I never tire of hearing her sweet little voice and knowing what she is thinking about. Unfortunately now I'm really going to have to try to stop swearing.
One of the things I am proudest of is that I chose the world's best dad for my kids. Really, without a doubt, there is no better father than Andrew. Weebles and Peanut are so lucky to have him. He never loses his patience. Seriously, never. Those that know me know all too well that patience is not one of my strong suits. I have been known on many occasions to throw bigger tantrums than my toddler and my intolerance for delayed gratification is probably worse than hers too. Andrew will always be there willing to play, ready to make up a new verse to a song or new rules to a game. He is the master when it comes to distractionary measures which any parent can tell you is invaluable, at least when they are still small. He's fair, honest to a fault and will always put their best interests first. He's pushed the Weebles in the stroller hundreds of miles to help her fall asleep, even in the rain on occasion. He's read thousands of stories and taken hundreds of bubble baths. He's built forts, played in the ocean when it was probably too cold to do so, slept in a chair so he could hold the Peanut when he didn't want to be put down and pretty much kept his mouth shut as I have spent thousands of dollars on toys, books and clothes for them. And perhaps more impressive than anything else, he's kept their mom from teetering over the fine line into craziness. So for all that I am very grateful. Don't worry though honey, I'll still keep bringing up how you fell asleep while I was in labor.
I'm not going to lie, we live in an all out cattery. We have four feline residents currently that let us live here with them, doling out the kibble and cleaning up their messes. I used to really love my cats and I suppose on the off second when the kids are busy or sleeping (he, yeeeah) or occasionally even when the s^&% is hitting the fan and I stop and see a bundle of fur all curled up peaceful I still remember that they are certainly a special part of our lives. The Weebles loves her cats. LOVES THEM. Probably more so than they would like. Especially now that she can actually catch up to them when they play chase and is also learning that she can pick them up (sort of) and move them around to her liking. Maggie and Cat were two of her first words after uh oh, not a coincidence since uh oh is frequently said regarding Maggie and his (yes his) activities. As any cat owner will tell you, well except for maybe the ones that are totally nuts, cats make life... interesting. Nothing is ever where you left it, you will find pee in the strangest places (stove? shoes? on the mail? I swear our cats peed once on a print out we had on how to stop your cats from peeing outside the litter box. I couldn't have made that one up if I tried.) and guaranteed at the moment you need them to be quiet, for example when you are trying to coordinate TWO small children's naps who are fighting them, they will decide it is a perfect time to meow loudly and walk all over the bed. I always knew I'd love my kids more than my pets, I just couldn't actually imagine it. However, once they arrived the contrast was shocking. It takes those quiet moments to remember how much they do mean to me. As our children grow up I hope they will inherit our love of animals. I always thought that people that didn't have pets must have such normalboring lives. Now I feel that way about people that don't have children. What on earth do they do with all that time? What did I do with all that time?
It's no secret that the Peanut came into this world a grumpy little fella. And I don't blame him as he was very nearly born in the car and came so fast his entire face was bruised and he had a giant knot on his head for the first few weeks. I didn't know what to do with an unhappy baby. Weebles had been so laid back and would just fall asleep any ol' place you put her. She'd sleep through big family dinners, through many rounds of "pass the baby" really just about anywhere when the mood struck her. This said on a day she's decided she's going to pass on her nap thankyouverymuch but anyway... Peanut spent the better part of the first month of his life screaming bloody murder. Mercifully he seemed to feel better at nighttime and would actually sleep fairly well but we were on pins and needles at all other times. I was exhausted, Andrew was exhausted, the grandparents were a little intimidated to hold him lest he have a total breakdown and we were all at a loss. The pediatrician said he was having a hard time adjusting to all the lights and sounds and my response to that was bulls*&t there is something seriously wrong. But it looks like she just might have been right. Once he started to flash those big gummy grins I realized that he does happy just as intensly as he does sad and it is so worth it. Now I feel fairly certain that I can calm him when he gets upset. We still haven't gotten to the point where I'm willing to leave him for longer than an hour but I actually can imagine getting to that point in the near future and its amazing. He is just so darn happy most of the time now that I just can't get over it and as any mother will tell you if your kids are happy then all is right in the world.
When The Weebles was a newborn I wouldn't have even thought about letting her precious skin touch the carpet. I vacuumed relentlessly and always put down a blanket for her to play on. The discovery of crawling made that slightly more difficult to maintain but every evening I faithfully vacuumed the entire downstairs of our house. Now I'm lucky if I vacuum once a week, every two weeks for sure though cause the in laws usually come and we can't have them thinking we're messy folks now can we? I do try to put down a blanket for The Peanut to roll around on, but if one isn't nearby I have been known just to plunk him down. But the real kicker is food these days. The Weebles has become the sterotypical picky eater. I can put any manner of yummy things on her plate for her to eat and the majority of it she doesn't even bother to try. Even pudding got the cautious eye! Pudding! The confusing thing is she will find things on the floor and happily pop them in her mouth no problem. Play Doh? YUM! A stray ice cube in front of the fridge in the kitchen? MM MM Good. Even an uncooked chunk of potato the other day I dropped while transferring from the cutting board to the stove. Seriously? She won't eat them cooked on a plate but raw on the floor is good eats. Cheerios used to be a favorite but now she'll maybe eat one or two and then gleefully throw the rest around (thanks PaPa for teaching her to feed the deer, she is applying that principle all over the place these days!). Admittedly I no longer flinch when she eats them off the floor in the house, as a matter of fact I'm usually excited she's actually eating something. She had a container of them in the car yesterday on our trip home from Asheville and therefore the entire second row of the van was littered in Cheerios. Andrew and I threw them on the ground as we got them up only to hear Weebles screaming NO NO NO as she ran about frantically picking them up off the ground and eating them! It didn't help that it had been raining for like six weeks straight. Soggy, dirty Cheerios. I guess at this rate her immune system will be great.
I don't consider myself outright "crunchy" although I do follow attachment parenting, we co-sleep, both childbirths were unmedicated and I tandem nurse. On second though maybe I AM sort of crunchy. I have been totally amazed by the lack of knowledge in the medical field about breastfeeding. It's as if the two groups of medical personnel you would expect to be educated on the subject, midwives/OB's and pediatricians, each assume the other has it so they don't bother. When the Weebles was born I would ask her pediatrician questions when I had them. Nods and blank looks. WTH? Here are my favorite instances of blatant ignorance on the subject that could have thwarted a new mom's efforts at breastfeeding.
1. When I called to make another follow up appointment with the lactation consultants at the hospital when my daughter was about seven weeks old, the lady told me that she didn't think they could help me if my daughter was that old, that we probably wouldn't ever be able to get the hang of it. My daughter is 19 months this week and still going strong thankyouverymuch. Actually we wouldn't have had such problems to begin with if a nurse at the hospital hadn't broken our latch right after birth to take my baby away without my consent. That's a whole other issue.
2. When I found out quite unexpectedly that the Peanut was on the way I called to make an appointment and the nurse that does the initial phone interview told me flat out that they required me to quit nursing by 20 weeks. Let's just say that little bit of information had me crying the rest of the day until I realized she was just uninformed. At no point in my second pregnancy did any midwife tell me it was necessary to quit.
3. After the Peanut's arrival the baby nurse warned me that my toddler would take up all the milk that my newborn needed. This wasn't an issue to me because I knew she just had no clue what she was talking about but how many other mom's might not? Think of the rift that would have caused at that point to wean my toddler right after her brother was born. The Peanut was eight pounds at birth and nearly 13 and a half at two months so I think he's doin' just fine thanks.
I really wish there would be some sort of education on this subject for everyone in related fields. Being a new mom is hard, breastfeeding is HARD and emotional and painful (but obviously worth it) without misinformation being thrown into the mix. We need those that we trust to help us navigate this exciting and scary time to be knowledgable enough to do so.
The Weebles has always loved to dance. She's got this adorable foot shuffle that she has expanded in recent months with a pretty snazzy spin move. Our dancing had so far been limited to times that others were dancing on the TV. The 4:30-6 window around here is dicey for attitudes, both theirs and mine. Everyone is tired and I'm pretty much out of tricks to keep them laughing. On a whim yesterday I turned on the iPod and found some nice fast paced music and started hoppin' around old school style. Weebles stared at me for a minute or so and then let loose with her best little girl shrieking. She loved it. We must've run a mile around the bedroom spinning and laughing. The Peanut found it a fascinating show to watch. Weebles enjoyed some Beastie Boys, some AC/DC and of course MMMMMBop which I'm trying hard to teach her to say. After each song as her elderly mama collapsed on the floor she'd run up signing MO' MO' excitedly. I think the five o'clock dance party is going to become a regular in our schedule.
The Peanut had his 2 month check up today. He is developmentally advanced according to the doctor because he can roll over and hold his head up so well. The flirtatious smiles he was doling out probably didn't hurt his cause any. Since he had improved so much emotionally we decided to go ahead with vaccines on schedule. The poor little boy turned such a dark color I honestly had to ask the nurse if he was okay. He's a second born so the things that freak me out are much fewer but hoo boy he was not pleased. He calmed down after a few minutes and promptly passed out. I had planned to go by JTS on the way home since I hadn't gotten my act together and managed to go in since he was born. Since he was so soundly asleep I figured it was safe to give it a try. He did a great job and didn't get upset at all whew. I surprised myself by realizing how much I miss those two mornings a week to sit at a desk, answer phones and email and otherwise be in "adult" company. My co-workers will laugh at that description no doubt. Maybe I should revise that to "mostly adult" company. The first few weeks after Peanut was born I honestly thought there was no way I could ever go back. I also thought there was no way I'd ever get to go anywhere or do anything but that's a different story. I started to ponder on the way home how I could make it work. Perhaps wait until the summer is over and JT gets busy enough to even need me? By then he'd be on solid foods and I would be able to leave him for longer periods. Or maybe go back sooner and hire a nanny to stay here WITH grandma so she'd have back up. I don't know if I'll ever be the kind of mom that can leave her kids with someone she doesn't know very very very well. I reserve the right to change my mind on that in the future :) I started to have hope though, that maybe it could work... just maybe I could carve out a few hours a week to go and spend some time doing something besides being Mom. Then, I got home. The Weebles had fallen and busted her lip, not only did she have a diaper in bad need of a change but I also discovered that to clean the CUT on her LIP her poor grandmother had used a cloth diaper that we use to dry off Peanut at diaper changes. Did I mention it was a CUT on her LIP. Ugh, the germs. Great googily moogily as the Ferocious Beast would say... and yes I'm quoting children's cartoons now... how gross. I didn't even know what kind of damage control was possible there so I'm going with the wait and see and pray and trynottothinktoomuchaboutit route. So now I'm back to wondering about whether I really will ever get out...
I read that somewhere recently and truer words may have never been spoken. Each day I wake up with the same goal, to survive until Andrew gets home. I love our nights. Dinner with the kids, bathtime (always lots of fun) and then snuggles and storytime until they fall asleep. The problem is that I basically rush through the majority of our days and boy do some of them drag on! Not only does my daughter look more and more like a little girl instead of my baby every day but my newborn isn't new born anymore either. He's nearly 2 1/2 months old and in the blink of an eye he'll be sitting up, crawling, driving the car.. you get the idea. I need to stop and remember every lunchtime, every meltdown, every shopping trip that this is my life with them. We'll never have this day again and tomorrow they'll be a little bigger, a little more grown up and a little closer to being on their own. And I will miss every second I had with them and wish for them all back.
It's not really any secret that I'm crazy. Not like in a split personality sort of way, but certainly in an anxiety ridden, irrational worry, likely to have a breakdown any minute sort of way. Where does this come from? Well I'm sure there are many who have taken far more hours of Psych at establishments of higher learning than I that could weigh in on the subject. But it seems to be it could be an either/or, or hell perhaps BOTH proposition. Let's just say we've got relatives in this weekend and leave it at that shall we? The debate continues....
I am so looking forward to spring. Windows open, half the laundry to deal with and lots of playtime outside for the kids. The Weebles loves to walk around the yard and collect rocks and acorns. The Peanut isn't too sure about being outdoors just yet but then again he's only really be exposed to chilly weather so I don't blame him. I managed to clean and organize our bedroom and bathroom yesterday. My post motivated me to dig out from under some of the toy clutter and get things done. It's like living in a new house! Today I am hoping to tackle to living room although that will be trickier as The Weebles has to have somewhere to play after all. But a few less Happy Meal toys won't ruin the fun I hope. We are in a blissful period where a schedule is starting to take shape. Every day from about 12-2:30 both kids sleep. The Peanut's other naps are more flexible, he usually dozes for at least a few minutes in the morning and then again sometime in the late afternoon. Our nighttime schedule has been in place for a few weeks now. Peanut's bath before Andrew gets home, dinner for everyone and then Weeble's bath after dinner. Then they both get tucked in and read stories. I'm afraid to get too excited about how well life is going with two kids. Those first few days were such trial by fire (okay okay PURE HELL might be more like it) that I never believed I'd see the day that I would start to feel like I had a handle on this gig. Of course, I'm seeing signs that The Weeble's two year molars are coming in... so that's sure to put me back in my place.
I will preface this post with the disclaimer that I have never been particularly Martha Stewart-eque however I do tend to function better when things are fairly well organized and you can walk to the kitchen without stepping on bananas, small plastic toys, cheerios, mittens... you get the idea. For those of you considering having children let me warn you, your house won't be clean again for any length of time until they move out. The Weebles is a tornado when it comes to messing things up. I used to pick up every single toy every night after she went to bed and match all the pieces up with their respective sets. Each morning she would wake up and immediately begin flinging and dumping baskets of toys until every single thing she owned was on the floor somewhere (or occasionally in the bathtub, oy the stuff in our bathtub). Now that baby #2 is on the scene I just haven't had the energy or motivation to do the complete nightly clean up every night and some days things just get straight up out of hand. About every other week my in laws come to see the kids so I can count on myself to at least have a complete clean up that often. (I do it for their visit, I do not put my in laws to work cleaning the house for the record.) I'm about to start the weekly clean and am always amazed by just how much stuff there is out. A few weeks ago things were REALLY bad and I found 10 minutes to cram about half the toys into empty diaper boxes and hide them. That is helped cut down on the sheer quantity of plastic on my floor. During the last few months of my pregnancy I hired a cleaning service but eventually gave up and cancelled them because it was nearly impossible to get all the toys picked up so they could actually get to surfaces to clean them. As soon as I would put away one basket of toys The Weebs would toddle right up and dump it out. Anyone have any tips for keeping the house somewhat inhabitable while raising small children?
So last night was my first night doing bedtime "alone" with both kids. The reason I say "alone" is because my parents came over for dinner to keep me company but unfortunately aren't much help when it comes to bathtime or nursing children into sleepyville. I wasn't quite sure how I was going to make it work with two baths to negotiate since The Peanut has this policy against sleeping or being put down peacefully until his sister is in the bed hearing bedtime stories. He must just love a good bedtime story, who can blame him? But things went surprisingly well. After his bath he hung out in the bathroom on his play mat while The Weebles had hers. Then I decided to let her go hang out with her grandparents while The Peanut got his milks on. After tucking him in I was patting myself on the back as I rushed to fetch The Weebles before he could realize that bedtime stories weren't in progress. I found my daughter sitting happily on the couch with her grandma watching O'Reilly and holding mom's empty tea glass. Mom announced, a little too proudly, "she's had a lot of tea". Um.. excuse me? Geez mom don't you think caffeine before bed (or anytime for someone her age) might be a bad idea? Pause. Pause. "Oh, I thought you used decaf." Now, we've already made the switch to unsweet tea in the name of health over here. If we also went decaf there's no point in drinking it at all. Sigh. Luckily she wasn't up half the night. Well... any more than usual anyway.
Yesterday was a snow day. My kids aren't old enough yet to think snow is fun, the Weebles is actually a little suspicious of it. But, what they do think is fun (and I have to agree) is having Andrew home on a work day. Granted he did actually have to work from home but he was still here and was able to sneak out of the dining room for some play breaks now and then. It's amazing how much easier the day seems knowing you have back up in the next room. Andrew took the Weebles out in the snow. I even made her some hot chocolate for her sippie cup. She didn't know what to make of it. Today is back to being just me and the kids. It's still really cold and wet outside so that unfortunately means we are cooped up in the house. Luckily we're already a good part of the way to naptime. The Peanut is having a great day so far, he's almost to the point where he laughs. Seeing him happy just makes my day after the rocky start he's had. Of course as soon as I say that he starts to meck... back to my post as the cruise director!