notecards and lanyards

monday clint had the day off. so he had several projects around the house that he wanted to get done. he put up molding in our bedroom. he changed out his closet from in the baby's room to our room. several other things too. all the while, i carried around my rainbow and vacuumed everything i came into contact with.

his new nickname for me: rainbow bright.

i helped him hold the molding and nail it up. and then it was up to me to paint over the nail heads. no worries. there was lots of ventilation...and the fumes were pretty nonexistant.

that night, i realized that i had been so active, that i hardly felt the baby move at all that day. i began to go over everything i had done. i had lifted several things, smelled paint fumes, probably not have my seven servings of fruits and vegetables...had too much chocolate...which means too much caffeine. and on and on and on. (my mother made a dessert from a new cookbook called "the comfort table". it's a chocolate sheet cake and when it's warm...just out of the oven, you pour an entire jar of peanut butter over it..then top that with chocolate frosting. it's all homemade...no box cakes allowed...and it is without a doubt the best dessert ever. i bet i had half the pan)

clint fell asleep pretty early. exhausted from all his work around the house. it was around 10...and i couldn't fall asleep. i just kept laying there thinking that i had done something. and that i couldn't feel him move. and that had to be a bad sign.

my mom got us a fetal heart monitor several months ago. so i snuck out of bed...careful not to wake clint up. he has an idea of my psychotic ways...he doesn't need any extra information on my part. so i sneak downstairs...and lay flat on the couch. and i begin to listen for my baby's heartbeat. sure enough. it was there. loud and clear. i averaged it to somewhere around 145 or 150. perfect. just where it should be. but i still wanted him to kick me. just to be sure.

i've already become neurotic. and he's not even here yet. i don't want to be one of those parents who stands over the baby at night holding a mirror in front of his nose to make sure he's breathing. i can't be that way. that takes wayyy to much energy. and i don't have that energy.

i worked with a little boy once who kept blowing on people. he'd just walk up and blow in your face. we went through everything. tried to figure out what he was getting from it. because all behavior...even the worst...is some form of communication. to this day...i'm not sure what he was trying to obtain from that. anyway...one intervention that worked with him was a type of reward system. we attached a notecard to his belt loop. with a lanyard (a deb style lanyard...you know, napoleon dynamite..."i'm trying to raise money for college"...."your mom goes to college"...)

anyway, we attached this notecard to his belt loop. everytime he did something good or something "correct", he was given a small sticker for his notecard. then his teacher would count up the number of stickers and he'd get a reward.

i actually thought about attaching a notecard to my pants. and every time the baby moved, i'd put a sticker on the notecard. and then...i dunno...maybe i could have a bite of cake or something as a reward. :)

i thought about it. went as far as getting out the notecard...but that's where i stopped myself. i don't really know why. it's obvious that i'm crazy.