Christmas Blues

I am feeling a bit down.

• I have just finished wrapping all of the Christmas presents for the children. While I think it is a respectable little Christmas, it all fits into a single box. For some reason, this is depressing me, even though I know Wii games and MP3 players are just little.
• I am having an involuntary fight with my MIL. I pissed her off. I had a good reason for my actions. Rather than her ask me WHY I behaved in such a manner, she simply is mad because I acted the way I did. I can't think of anything nice to say to her ill-informed emails, so I am just keeping my mouth shut. My mother always says, "If you can't say anything nice, don't talk." Still, this doesn't stop me from arguing with her in my head. It is very distracting and I wish I would stop it.
• Honey has a job interview tomorrow. And while I want him to have a job, just for his own sake and not any other reason (i.e. financial), this job is Far Away. And...I don't want him working Far Away and stuck in Bad Traffic every day.
• I wanted to make fudge. I haven't gotten around to making fudge.
• Brother is going with my parents to visit relatives for a week rather soon. I am sad he is going. Of course, I am glad he gets to go visit and see snow...but I miss him already. I sleep better at night when my children are all under my roof. What am I going to do when they move out?
• I am feeling motivated to do something about the poundage I am carrying around, but also feel that I can't act on such motivation because I am worried about milk supply issues that may come up. I argue with myself a lot. I want to try because my clothes don't fit and I am miserable and also jiggly. Similarly, if I lost/hurt my supply because I wanted to fit into smaller jeans, I would hate myself.

On a more positive note, I am very excited about Christmas. I want to make graham cracker "gingerbread" houses with the kids this week and also fudge for the neighbors...and I will! Today is my last day of work until the New Year and my folks gave us a big ole pile of money to buy fireworks to welcome in 2011. We are still getting Christmas cards every day and my parents really liked the presents we got for them. Oh! And I got a nice watch and neat wall hangings and the kids got great presents from my parents this past weekend.

Maybe things aren't so blue after all.

No one wants to read this shit...

Well, it's been a month and I would like to thank the world for my "Most Unresponsive Blog-type Person" award. It has been duly earned.

Life has been a series of twists and turns of the unpleasant sort. But good stuff, too. There's always the happy bits that make life bearable. Like cute kids and a great husband and a roof over one's head.

Anyway, at the end of October, we lost one of the incomes from our two income household...which, of course, was the much much larger one. Goodbye 60% of our money! We...well. We will miss you. We still do. Feels like a lot of the charm has been sucked out of our charmed life. I try to be patient with my husband. It is not his fault and he feels terrible, I can tell. But it's just shit. No one to blame, really. Contracts come and contracts go...and we are done with contracts, hopefully. Anyway, it is a craptastic time of year to be looking for work unless you want to shuffle cheap Chinese crap at the DollarTree. (No hating, really. I love the DollarTree.) So, many positive interviews, many headhunters/recruiters, etc. later, and we are still on one income. Folks are just 'waiting for the New Year' or some bull like that. At least, that is what I am crossing my fingers for.

We managed to put together a decent Christmas for the kids, which is good. Honey and I both got a little something from each other as well. A very small little something, but oh well. I told him that we could have a really nice Valentine's Day this year if he wanted. Honey likes toys more than I do but I think it is bothering him that I am not letting him buy for me this year. It's just stuff. We need other things more. And I did do some shopping earlier in the year, which took care of a lot of people. Now I just have the nieces... and I need to ship stuff. Gah.

I still wanted to do a little something for teachers/day care providers/neighbors so I tried my hand at making Candy Cane Fudge. OMG! I have never made fudge before but it is so freaking easy, I can scarcely believe it. 1.5 bags of chocolate chips, a can of condensed milk, a splash of peppermint extract (which I am sure I have on hand due to Swistle) and vanilla, and voila! Fudge! Beat the ever loving bejesus out of some candy canes and squish the broken chips into the top of the setting fudge. Yum-O. And I don't even like fudge.

Tomorrow is our annual luncheon for work and we do a Dirty Santa ornament exchange, which is always fun. Until I took one last look at my beautiful glass Christmas bulb, hand painted with a snowman and stars, and noticed a crack. Oh for the love of Pete. So now I have to go buy a new, non-cracked one, by tomorrow. And Baby has a Dr. appointment this afternoon. And I need containers for fudge. And a social worker from some other state has decided that I need to help her set up her library. Tomorrow morning. And Skeleton Crew starts soon, which means I get nearly two paid weeks off to spend trying not to lose my temper with my sweet young children as Christmas comes and goes.

Anyway, life is busy, work is busy. Things will be different in 2011, but sometimes change is good. Sometimes you have to rise from the ashes, you know?

Shrimp & Corn Bisque

I have a co-worker who is about 10 years older than my mother. She makes coffee for us all every morning, which is quite good, and she also knows about my seafood affliction.

What seafood affliction, you ask? Well, I can't have any. Not because I am allergic myself, but because I am surrounded by allergy sufferers. For instance: We go to a restaurant with my parents. I order catfish. Jelly Bean takes a baby carrot off my plate... but doesn't actually eat any fish. When we get home, he kisses his grandma goodbye on the cheek...and she blows up like a balloon within 5 minutes. No, I'm really not exaggerating. (AND this is the woman we just recently convinced to get an Epipen. True Story.)

And then there is my lovely husband who spews from both ends when his Thai Basil Chicken got accidentally contaminated with the Thai Basil Shrimp, unbeknownst to us.

So, no fish or seafood in our house. And apparently, I can't order it at restaurants either. Also, since our family is so limited here, no seafood at holidays either. Just... no seafood, please. So, my lovely New Orleans-born co-worker tries to bring me a bit of the yummy seafoody Southern things she cooks when she makes them at home so I don't feel too deprived. Crawfish Etoufee. Shrimp Creole. MMmmm.

Well, a couple of days ago, she brought in a lovely creamy soup and it was really yummy. It reminded me a whole lot of Copeland's Crab & Corn Bisque. I asked for the recipe and thought I would share as it is nice for the cool weather that is just starting to roll in here. It seems pretty quick and easy, too, even for a weeknight. And maybe you can help me figure out what other protein I could put in there to make it for my family.

Ingredients:

Large pot
1/2 stick butter or margarine
1 onion, chopped
1/2 bell pepper, chopped
2 lbs peeled shrimp - if large cut in half
1 26 oz can cream of mushroom soup
1 12 oz can evaporated milk
1 can whole kernel corn
1 can cream style corn
1 or 2 cans chicken broth depending on desired consistency
1/4 - 1/3 cup sugar, to taste
Salt and pepper (or Tony's) to taste
Crabmeat, optional

Melt butter; saute' onions and bell pepper
Add shrimp; saute until pink
Add remaining ingredients except sugar, stir thoroughly after each ingredient is added
Add salt, pepper and sugar to taste
Simmer about 30 minutes.

You can also add small cubes or chunks of potato and simmer until potatoes are cooked. Freezes well!

Listy

• I have to get informational brochures translated into Spanish. I am having all kind of troubles from not being able to find the editable files to not hearing back from the volunteer translators. Darn volunteers. You can't really say, "Good GRIEF are you DONE yet? I am working on a deadline here!"
• This week was spend down week. I hate spend down. It is HARD to have to spend a specific amount of money on worthwhile projects in a verysmall period of time.
• We have ants in our kitchen. I don't know what to do about this. One day they just, showed up. And we got little unattractive black plastic things from the Wall Marts that was supposed to dispose of the ants. Well, the ants are still here and seem to be telling all their little ant buddies there's a party at Our House. I think they are laughing at our futile attempts to rid our home of their presence.
• Oh, and these are Southern Fire Ants. Not nice pleasant we-won't-eat-your-babies-in-the-night Black Ants. These ants bite. Hard. GAH.
• Now I have given the impression that our house is strewn with leftover croutons and poptart crumbs. That there may be cereal hiding under the sofa and between the cushions. That we are a vermin haven type place. That I don't even own a broom or a mop.
• I do own a broom and a mop. The rest is true.
• I think it is unfair that a person (me) who loves Fall so much (me) has to live in a place where Fall never happens (here).
• My boss raided my office whilst I was out last week looking for snacks. All she found was prunes and Metamucil and Tums from my pregnancy days. Needless to say, she was disappointed at the lack of yummies and let me know. I think it may go on my performance review...
• New Baby was sicky all week. Now Jelly is sicky, too. They have terrible croupy coughs and low grade temperatures. Thankfully, between the Honey and I, they are able to stay home and rest up. Jelly is home fussing for me to come be with him. And while that is sweet and kind of does make me want to get my keys, I know he would be fussing for Honey if I were home instead. And if Honey and I were both home? He would fuss for Brother. Or Grandma.
• Honey is sicky too and won't go to the doctor. This = frustrating.
• Halloween is this weekend! And we haven't carved our pumpkins yet. Of course, it is still pretty hot here and carving pumpkins too early leads to rot before Halloween...still it is time. We have the boys' costumes done and done. Brother will be a Black Ninja (Ooooo) and Jelly will be a Ninja Turtle (Ahhhh) and New Baby will be Yoda (Squee!).
• Now I wanted New Baby to be a Pirate Baby for Halloween. Because he does this thing where he just peeks out of one eye at me and I say, "Arrgh! I'm One-Eyed (Insert New Baby's Real Name HERE)! The Pirate Baby!" But Honey always wanted a Yoda baby and this is me giving in because he wanted to name the baby Darwin. And I wouldn't let him.
• He wanted to name Jelly Bean Darwin as well. I didn't let him do it that time either.
• Amen.

These Kids

Mornings are crazy. It is hard to get 4 people up, dressed, and where they need to go everyday. Especially when two of those people are very resistant to the whole 'getting up and getting ready' thing. (New Baby and myself...well. We are not 'as' resistant.) I think Brother has been coddled a bit too much and there is only so much of me to go around. He will either have to start packing his own lunch or eat in the cafeteria. I would like for him to also have an alarm clock and get himself out of his bed and lay out his own clothes. (He wears uniforms and while I do like the uniforms, there are all these pieces parts that have to be accumulated that non-uniform wearers don't have to worry about.) But, baby steps, right?

...

Jelly is going through the Terrible Fours, I swear. He loves New Baby, but seems especially whiny and also engages frequently in Poor Listening Skills. Last week, I took him to the grocery store, just him and me, so he could have some one-on-one time. Oh, Lord. The child had ants in his pants. In the cart! Out of the cart! Quick! Dash down the cereal aisle! Maul all the nut-filled-death-causing candies in the checkout! Sneak the 'phone' behind the cashier's counter and play on the loudspeaker over the entire store!

Gah. Make. It. Stop.

So, Jelly's exuberance and my lack of the ability to control him properly has led to a Hallelujah! feeling about going to work. I get to go and complete tasks! With people I genuinely love! And have conversations about something other than Caillou! And they pay me...*gasp*. Wow.

Plus, New Baby is the only little baby in the daycare. He has a teacher all to himself and it is lovely. I know he is very well taken care of and his every little need is met. I don't expect this to last forever, but I am thinking it would be great until maybe he is mobile. I don't know. But I am really glad about it now.

Also, I had such a hard time pumping enough milk for Jelly. It was a cause of constant stress that I made justenough milk for him. Plus he hated formula when I got desperate enough to want to supplement. He wouldn't take it and then would shun the bottle for literal days, not eating the entire 8 hours at the daycare after the formula attempts. But! It is not this way with New Baby. I don't know how I got so lucky, but I can get more than he needs with every pumping session. I feel like I should have a whole other baby to feed because I am doing so well with this. I have no idea why this is, other than a fluke. But I am so incredibly grateful, I can't even say how much.

...

Brother has discovered reading. Now, he liked to read last year. And though, I am unsure how I feel about Accelerated Reader on principle, it is really working for my kid this year. (For those who might be unfamiliar with the program, essentially, you read a book, take a test on the book, and then get points for it.) Brother has the most points in his entire school. When I discovered reading in the 5th grade, it really boosted my grades and my confidence and it is my leisure activity of choice. So much so that if I don't have a book to read, I get unreasonably irritated and snippy. Drug of choice, if you will. Anyway, I am hoping this leads to better grades and more confidence in his own intelligence.

Turn, Turn, Turn

The sun is shining brightly through my windswept curtains. I am sitting at my computer eating a turkey-avocado wrap and drinking an iced coffee, pretending I am in a small Internet cafe downtown. Two of my beautiful children are dreaming nap time dreams.

This morning I got up late because Honey was here. Usually he leaves the house before I wake up in the morning, but today he had an appointment, so stuck around longer and got Brother on the bus before I even made my morning appearance. I staggered out of the bedroom clutching a wee baby and collapsed onto the recliner. My back is sore from nursing laying down through the night. I ask Honey if it is 'cold'. He said Brother wore a sweatshirt to school. I jumped up and threw open the front door. It was colder outside than it was inside, notable in the South. I went straight to the thermostat and turned off the air conditioner, also a notable event.

As I giggled and opened all the windows (We now have 13 in our house to open...), I said, "Let's go to the park!" Honey had to be at his appointment in an hour and a half, but was game. We tugged pants on the little boys and rushed out the door. Honey wore the baby in the Bjorn so I was able to climb on the dew slicked play equipment with Jelly Bean. The wind was blowing and the sun was shining and the day was like the first bite from a ripe pear, juicy and sweet. We came home and I decided it was cool enough to bake. I used up some well-done bananas in banana bread and then made a quiche that we can have for dinner with a Caesar salad.

Things change. Summer fades to fall. Little babies grow into sweet boys. Maternity leave ends. I called the daycare this morning and told them we would be back in two weeks. Because I was going back to work. Things do change and I am different after this maternity leave than I was last time when I held a sorrow so deep and heavy, the weight almost crushed me. I dreamed of staying home with my baby. This time? Well. I have different dreams. I will miss my boys, but Jelly Bean has been ready to go back to school for weeks. He misses his friends and playing all day. I am not nearly as fun as a room full of 4-year-olds. Who knew?

And New Baby? I will miss him terribly and have some adjusting to do. I will work part-time until probably November to help him and myself with the transition. It feels like an ache to know I only have two weeks left. My heart and eyes are full at the thought of this new change. I am looking forward to getting back to my job-home. I love the people there, too and I miss feeling like a vital member of that team. So, I will go back.

This is the time of year where thankfulness hits you. Where you can't believe how incredibly lucky you are to have had such a life so far and still, tomorrow is yet to be determined. Silly as it sounds, I am hearing in my head,

How very special are we
For just a moment to be
Part of Life's eternal rhyme?

I am thankful for a supportive husband and beautiful boys and my time at home. I am thankful to have a job I love and can go back to. I am thankful for cool days and open windows and bittersweet change.

Overboard

Jelly Bean has a birthday coming up very, very soon. Birthdays cause me to lose my mind, just a little.

Ok, maybe a lot.

I started to feel bad because Brother has had a party or extensive outing with multiple friends (Laser Tag and Pizza Party! McDonald's Party! Movies and restaurant and cake and ice cream at the house with friends!) for all of his birthdays. Jelly Bean had a pretty kickass first birthday party..and that was it. Bwomp Bwomp Bwahwahwahwahwah....
And I started feeling guilty because here is this adorable little middle child who 6 short weeks ago was my own sweet baby and not a galumphing Big Kid and I have never given him a birthday party! Shame and utter despair and a week to plan. Oh. My.

So, there will be a SpiderMan spacewalk jumpy thingy. All the neighborhood children will be invited and if parents and relatives show up, there will be about 30+ people at my small, spur of the moment birthday party. There will be a cake with a farm on it. Multiple presents were bought. Books! A beetle poster! And oh, he needs a BALL PIT!

Let's talk about the ball pit. Let's talk about how he is pretty rambunctious and those inflatable things looked too shallow. Let's talk about how Honey decided to build a ball pit out of PVC pipes and plastic garden fencing and used this ball pit calculator to determine how many balls were needed. Let's talk about how it told us 700 balls would make it over a foot deep and how our math skilz are sadly lacking OR the calculator is a P.O.S. And how it didn't work out and now more balls are ordered and the ball pit we built to be cheap is costing us somewhere in the ballpark of $300.00.

I asked Honey. I asked him how did this happen? What were we thinking? It's like we decided to build a ball pit. And we decided we wanted 1.5 feet of balls. Then when the first installment of balls didn't come out as we had envisioned, we just...bought more. And more. And now they are all in the mail and I have a $300 ball pit and a party coming up this weekend to also pay for.

Still, Jelly is loving the ball pit. It will be cool when it is finished. And New Baby will get to play in it someday, too. I don't regret it or getting carried away, per se, I just wished I had opened my eyes a bit.

Still, they are loving it.

Old is New

Some of the best things about having a new baby is remembering all the stuff you loved about having your other babies. I love putting New Baby in Jelly Bean's and Brother's old clothes. And wrapping him snugly in a particular receiving blanket I have had for the other boys. It is like this wonderful mix of new tiny person with a healthy helping of nostalgia thrown in.

Jelly Bean loves being a big brother. He is handling it so well right now. He goes and checks on the baby and looks at me seriously to tell me, "When the baby wakes up, you feed him, ok?" Yessir. Brother is way more nonchalant about the new addition. He might smile at New Baby occasionally and probably has only held him three times, but has said to me, "Gee, I really like New Baby a lot more than I liked Jelly Bean when he was born." The unseating of Prince Brother was not a very enjoyable experience for him.

New Baby is growing really well. In three weeks, he gained 2 lbs 4 oz. Whee! I was so proud of myself. Jelly was so little he lived in the tenth percentile and I was convinced it was all my fault. But this time, New Baby is in the 30th percentile! (I am being slightly sarcastic. I grant it is a silly thing to be proud of because it is not like you control it or anything.) Anyway, he is growing up so fast already and I have my usual "Oh-my-womb-is-vacant-are-you-sure-we-can't-have-any-more-babies?" Honey is pretty firm on the "Hell NO." But I walk through my day snuggling New Baby close and admiring every bit of him, soaking up every molecule of milky smell and yellow poop. Because here, in this one and only lifetime, there will be no more babies I will call my very own. I look at all of our gear. At the teeny outfits that used to belong to the older boys and the worn receiving blanket and I wonder, "What do I do with all this when New Baby no longer needs it?" I want to pack it all away in the attic for grandchildren, but how would my sons' partners look at me if I handed them these ratty old things that are so precious to me? Like I was insane, probably. It's not a form of rejection I really want to experience. Still, what do I do with this stuff?

When I was pregnant, I couldn't relate as well to the posts about folks' hearts breaking because the bassinet was gone. Now I can.

Quick Question...

Tell me what kind of pacifiers you used for your breast fed babies. New Baby gags terribly when I try to give him one. They are the newborn size, but I feel like it is too long?

Any ideas? Help. Or I am to spend life as a giant binky.

Presents

Want to see what I bought for my niece's birthday? It is a charm bracelet. Pretty, yes? Young and feminine, I thought. I wouldn't mind having one of these myself. Got it from this shop on etsy.
And my parents' anniversary (although obviously edited to reflect their name, wedding year.) You can customize this! So I picked a black background, with a red monogram and white lettering. This will match their house.)

~~~~

New Baby (yet to be 'named' on the blog) is the most poopin' baby I have ever had. Let me explain: He just poops so much! I have not once in three weeks changed a wet-only diaper. Now, there is not a copious amount of poop. Just a little. But still! And I change him at every single feeding, so this is about every 2 hours. I am not keen on the idea of waking him up to change his diaper, when he is up so often anyway to eat.

Also, I think one forgets things about babies when you put a few years in between pregnancies. Because breast milk poops are the color of a yellow-orange crayola. It just doesn't seem like a color that should exist in nature, you know?

Anyway, all this diaper changing was making his bottom red. Already! Gah. And I can't stand diaper rash. Just one teeny red patch and I get all anxious. First I thought it was the wipes. So we changed wipes to a hypoallergenic kind. That didn't seem to work, so we made our own a la the Internets, only I used an organic baby wash and no oil. This seemed to help for a little bit. And all the while I was slathering him with Boudreaux's Butt Paste, which has worked miracles on my babies to date. But it wasn't. WORKING.

Then I consulted Dr. Google again and found out about Triple Paste. It took about 24 hours, but then the rash has gone and hasn't reared its ugly head again. It was kind of pricey, about $18.00 a tub at Target, but worth it. I have never used it before, have you?

Nursery

So, here are the promised pictures of the nursery. Sorry it took so long, folks!

I got the wall decals from etsy (I would link to the shop, but it closed down! Bummer.) and thought they came out really cute.
I also put the ribbon and wooden transportation decorations on the baskets for storage of little things like tiny shoes and receiving blankets.


I really liked the new crib and dark bookshelves with the bright colored walls. And of course, I painted the baby's name on wooden letters. I did this for Jelly Bean as well.


Oh, and the last piece arrived in late July. I think the final 'accessory' is my favorite one.

Due Date and Dirty Laundry

Today is my due date. I am still pregnant. And! At work. I deserve a cookie.

Really though, it is no hardship. I sit at a desk for the vast majority of the day and have a chair that can lean way way back whenever I need to quit hunching over the keyboard. I will be induced early on Wednesday if there's no baby before then. Honestly? I think I will make it to Wednesday. I am not feeling particularly bad (right now) and whenever I do feel rough, (usually in the evenings) it doesn't last very long.

Do you know, this is my first due date that I have ever had where I am still pregnant? Really. I feel like proud and accomplished. I have no clue why. Its not like there's a prize for staying pregnant longer and indeed, some would put that in the 'punishment' category. But that is how I feel.

~~~~
My wedding anniversary is coming up in a few weeks. I asked my husband what he would like for his anniversary, because I have to get it now or it may not be got. My husband is a freaking fabulous guy who works hard and helps around the house and doesn't argue and is nearly always in a good mood. But when I ask him a question about his wants, it feels like he is...young. Like 5. Like when you ask a 5 year old what they want for their birthday and they say, "A Pony! And a transformer-megatron-fortress with REAL LASERS built exclusively from toothpicks by British elves! And every single thing that is and ever was in the inventory of Toys R Us! And a PONY!"

Ok, I am exaggerating a little bit. And I love him loads, but he really does get the best presents. Probably because he asks for them... I am more likely to do something foolish like:

"Dear, what do you want for Mother's Day?"
"A broom."
"A broom???"
"Yes, and a new dust pan to go with it."
(Unfortunately, this is an actual example.)

I am a practical girl. I don't have a long list of wants. He is not as practical. Which is fine, really. Anyway, so for the anniversary, he asked for a new gizmo and I must have tipped him off by my body language (or, you know, by saying "#$%@!!!") that perhaps Christmas would be a better time to ask for expensive gizmos. Then he asked for underpants.

Anyway, even the underpants request is a bit amusing. When we first started dating, he was living in a dorm and had no access to laundry facilities, so I let him use my washer/dryer at my house. Anyway, the man had so many clothes because...he didn't have access to laundry facilities and needed a lot of clean clothes between washings to keep him going. I used to tell him (and still do) that he has more underpants than God. Anyway, when he said he wanted underpants, I kind of looked at him blankly and said, "Ok. Any particular requests?" He said, "Enough so that I can throw out all of my current underpants and have all new underpants."

Perhaps we should coin the term: practical extravagance.

Now, I have no intention of buying the man underpants for his anniversary. I will get the requested underpants. But five bucks says that he adds them to his collection and doesn't throw out any existing underpants and therefore, have an underpants collection that makes God green with jealousy.

Maternity/Family Pictures

As promised! I will try to get the nursery pictures taken/up this week as well.


And now they are removed....Adios!

Jokes

I had an ultrasound yesterday. Thanks to the gods who control such things, I didn't have to have an examination by Dr. Snow Shovel Hands as he was called away to an emergency c-section and I am just not a patient kind of girl when it comes to flipping through old issues of Parents in a waiting room. (I was really dreading the exam. Hello! "When you walked in, you were only 2 centimeters, but after this exam, you're 5!" Kill me. Literally, the first/last/only time he examined me, I hit him and swore. Honey jumped out his seat. Next time he examines me? I want an epidural first.) Anyway, have you ever had an ultrasound this late in the game? I haven't. Not a thorough one, anyway. Did you know that you can see if the baby has HAIR in an ultrasound? Well you can. And my little baby has hair.

In fact, since Dr. Hands wasn't there, I had to go back today and see the nurse practitioner. I like her. She has normal-sized hands. Anyway, she was rummaging around down there and told me she could feel the baby's hair through the water bag.

I am apparently going to give birth to a tiny chimpanzee.

When I called Honey to give him an update and told him this fact, his first reaction was not a chuckle at my chimpanzee joke or even wonder that you could tell such a thing prior to birth. It was: "What's she doing poking around in there! She's going to break something!"

This still makes me laugh.

To complete this whole obstetrical comedy, I get back to my office and the doctor's office calls me on my cell. Hundreds of ill things go through my mind. Like, they found protein in the urine sample. Or one of the doctors looked at my ultrasound and freaked out because the baby is only! six! pounds! (They have been harping about his size for months. I think 6 lbs is a perfectly respectable baby size. But what do I know? I don't have 'God' tattooed on my ass.)

No, they told me that they tentatively had me scheduled to be induced on Monday! And wanted to 'offer' that to me. My reply: "Um. No." Gee, you think they could have told me while I was there for the hour and 15 minutes "We are thinking that you giving birth Monday would be good for us. Whaddaya say?" But, no. My due date is the 26th and I would like to make it to that date, if not a bit beyond. Make sure he is "all done" in there, you know?

I am highly amused at all of this. I feel like my life is a sitcom.

Listy

Here's a random list, because that is all I can get my brain to do. Sadly, much of it is complain-y. Sorry about that.

• I've been uncomfortable a lot lately. I feel like I am having contractions, but seeing as I have always been induced and had an epidural before any painful contractions set in...I am getting kind of paranoid. Would someone please tell me how I know when I am in labor?
• I have a doctor's appointment tomorrow. I am nervous they are going to tell me I am having a baby. Or that I have to have the baby that day. Or something. I don't want to have a baby tomorrow. I'm not ready.
• I just ate lunch literally 25 minutes ago. I am hungry. I have never been so freaking constantly hungry in all my life. I dearly hope this is going to go away after the baby is born or I am in trouble.
• My electric bill doubled from last month. I. Don't. Care. Air conditioning is a necessity. I would have shriveled up and died without it. Or incinerated my family with my flaming temper.
• We got Big Brother Presents for the boys! I got Brother a new scooter and Jelly Bean a PlazmaCar (as recommended by Swistle.) I also bought a new car seat for the baby. Whee!
• The boys bought the baby little presents to take to the hospital as well. I wanted to have presents from the baby to them as well and I know what I want...I just got to buy it. Too much to do! Too much to do!
• I got the proofs for the maternity pictures and as soon as I get my files, I will share. I think they came out pretty good, but I made a poor wardrobe choice and in some of them, I don't really look pregnant at all. Which was kind of the point.
• I am a bit worried about my organization while I am on maternity leave. Not that I think I am indispensable or anything weird like that. I just...worry about the burden being placed on other staff members. In my head, I want to be in communication and do what I can from home...but I am going to cut myself a break if that doesn't happen.
• I wanted to have Brother's school stuff all ready and bought and ready and and and...before the baby is born. I have not done this. It is bothering me.
• Honey started his new job and is pleased thus far. Cross your fingers for us.

Weekend News

We worked our tails off this past weekend. Well, mostly Honey, but I did some stuff too. Who are these alleged women with tons of energy at the end of their pregnancy for "nesting"? I swear to high heaven, all I had to do was step outside my barely air conditioned house and need to sit down. The oppressive "feels like" 109 degree heat hits you like a ton of bricks. My body feels like I am carrying around 200 extra pounds instead of the meager 30. Anyway, Honey did a lot of work. He mowed the lawn. He mulched the flower bed. He worked on creating the window sills for the addition. He ran errands and purchased necessities. He told me to sit down and encouraged me to watch Kim Possible reruns on Netflix with the kids. He told me I *was* helping, when really, I wasn't. My, isn't he great?

We didn't get everything on the list done. The window sills and a few other pieces of necessary trim still need to be painted and installed, but I am not worried about it. It will get done by Saturday evening. The reason for the timeline? We are having a photographer come to the house to take maternity/family pictures. I tried to focus on getting just a couple of spaces ready/photographable. So, I picked our front porch, our new living room, and the nursery. (Lordy, I hope these are good choices. I don't really know what to expect.) Why go through this mess when I could I have just went to a studio? Well. I'm not really interested in studio photographs. I wanted something a little more real and a little less posed. And I have always wanted to do maternity photographs, but it is especially important to me this time because it is the last.

I was thinking of doing white shirts and jeans. I am not opposed to showing my belly. This is the prettiest it has ever been when I am pregnant. I have no stretch marks! WHY IS THAT? Usually my stomach is so covered with angry red stripes, it looks like some sort of weirdly shaded tiger print. Seriously, when I was pregnant with Brother, my OB glanced over at my tum and literally said, "Wow. Those are the worst stretch marks I have ever seen." Yeah. But! I am stretch mark free. (So strange...)

I am looking for pictures that reflect family and motherhood and not so much "Britney in a mink coat and nothing else". I can't really say I understand the whole "let's make our pregnant bodies look like a photo shoot from Pl**boy". Really? Really? I mean, there is a little baby in there. A sweet innocent beautiful child. I don't want to see how you GOT pregnant. I think it is good to be body positive and to feel confident and capable when you are gestating. (And even when you are not gestating.) But not so much the naked picture thing. It just doesn't seem tasteful. Maybe someone can explain it to me.

Anyway, this weekend: Pictures! At my house! (Yet another thing I orchestrate that makes me ask myself: What were you THINKING? But...here we go.)

Weekend After: Baby Sprinkle! Anyone want to volunteer to clean my house?

Listy

• I am so tired. I really feel like laying on the floor should be seriously considered. Ug, where are you 4:00?
• Tonight we have swimming lessons for Jelly Bean. It is a million degrees out. This does not make me feel rested, to know I have to sit in the heat while he swims.
• Swimming lessons stress me out. Mentally, it is very like watching my baby stand on the edge of a cliff. My heart races; I panic. My muscles are ready to spring into action to fish him out of the water. Overall, not a relaxing experience. (Yes, I need a chill pill. At least I don't let my phobias prevent me from signing him up, yes? This is a good thing.)
• Did you know that it is exponentially easier having one child as opposed to two? I did not know this! Really. I didn't! It is a complete revelation to me. I would have said that Brother was my easy child and that Jelly Bean was my ornery bit who required so much more attention. But the past few days with two parents and one kid as Brother is on a trip with my folks? Like some sort of spa vacation. I am enjoying Jelly so much.
• Brother is having a grand time as well. I'm glad. I hope he is missing us at least a little bit and will come home with a lovely new attitude.
• Don't worry, I'm not banking on the lovely new attitude.
• Our to do list is sooooo looooong that we literally made it out and the categorized it according to what needs to be done prior to the maternity/family pictures I scheduled to be taken at the house, what needs to be done prior to the 'sprinkle', and what needs to be done prior to delivery.
• Somehow or another, Honey and I manage to get sucked into these very-important-yet-not-on-the-list tasks. HOW does that happen? I do not know.
• My last ultrasound is scheduled for this week. Last. As in am due very soon and they are checking the baby's position. Wow. How did THAT happen?
• Signed up for the cord blood banking thing today. Feel very good about it. (Here's my money, take it! I have no use for it apparently. Still, am pleased about it.)
• The nursery is almost done! Whee! We bought a beautiful new crib and washed the bedding. Very exciting. Can't wait to completely check it off the list.

Do the Right Thing

Did you know that Jelly Bean has three babies in his belly? They are going to come out of his bellybutton when he goes to the doctor for "delivery". Their names are Luke, Seth, and Will. One of these is actually the baby that is in *my* belly, so Jelly carries him around for me for a while. (Don't I wish...) One day last week, I was informed that one of the babies was a cow and would drink milk from his mommy's breasts. And please don't confuse Jelly Bean with becoming a 'daddy' soon. He is adamant that he is going to be a 'mommy' just like me.

I am glad he is finding a way, albeit imaginative, to feel like he is part of the growing family, but I am a bit concerned at the line between pretend and reality. Right now I just go along with whatever he says without supporting or dissuading him. I just hope that is the right thing to do.

Brother has not been particularly supportive in any way, shape, or form since right around January. His last report card was quite upsetting and he is therefore, required to do practice schoolwork every day this summer. Of course, he hates me for it. And of course, I really don't care how he feels about it. I would hire a tutor to help him a bit (even though it is a motivation issue, not a lack of knowledge issue) but am having the darnedest time finding one during the summer. I could pack him off to one of those fancy learning centers, but they are exceptionally expensive and I can't see justifying the cost...at this point. Things might change.

He is going to Ohio with my parents next week. I think it will be good for him to get away from me and me away from him for a few days. It makes me feel awful to want a break from my own kid. I know I will miss him. I already miss him in more ways than just him being absent. We used to have time for reading and movies, but now it is just me asking him to do a minuscule amount of practice work and him emphatically refusing and therefore effectively grounding his self. Sometimes I wish someone else would come along and parent him because I am doing such a crappy job. Crossing my fingers and toes that this is just a phase.

Honey is talking about career moves again. While he is really successful, all this jumping about gives me motion sickness. I want him to be happy and so I am supportive. I just hope this won't blow up in our collective faces. I hope whatever we decide, it is the right thing.

Ready. Set. Go.

I have a confession.

I am not all that sure I want this baby to be born so soon. Two months. TWO MONTHS! I'm not ready. I'm not sure what I am going to do with three kids. Right now, he is safe and fed and frankly, isn't on my 'to do' list. I can sleep through the night (mostly). I can focus on trying to parent the older kiddos. I am just not sure how life is going to look in August, you know? Homework. Daycare. Housework. Job. Commute. Sleep. Storytime. Naptime. Mealtime. Help.

This construction has whipped my butt. We are still waiting for carpet in Brother's room, but after that we are done with everything the contractor was to do. The baby's room is still not set up (along with Brother's AND Jelly Bean's) and I wish it were. I can't figure out how to clean sheetrock dust from my floors (feel free to advise!) We need to rearrange closets and move furniture and I feel so overwhelmed and tired by the whole mess, I would rather close my eyes to it all. (My, aren't I positive today?) I think I am pretty glad that my friend is going to throw me my mini-baby shower so that I can have an incentive to get the house in order before that happens. There is still much caulking and painting and door knob installation to be done, but hopefully we will succeed in completing the important projects before the little party.

Speaking of the 'sprinkle', I have been still buying little things here and there that catch my eye. Soft cotton Carter's blankets with teeny monkeys on it. Little embroidered terry cloth bibs. Cute airplane stickers for the walls. I know this is my last go-round and I wanted to be able to buy some stuff for myself, so I am viewing whatever I get at the 'sprinkle' to be lagniappe.

In other news, I signed the boys up for the Siblings Class at our local hospital. Brother already did it, but I thought it would be nice for Jelly Bean to have HIS big brother there as well. Did you know that Jelly Bean has a baby in his tummy? This little baby's name is Luke and will come out of Jelly's 'wagina' at 'delivery'. Oh my. Brother had a little baby in his tummy when I was expecting Jelly Bean as well, but it never got carried this far. Luke ran away the other day, I was told. And I was relieved. But then he came back. (To be fair, Brother was older when he was going to be a brother than Jelly. He wasn't as...imaginative) I am a little concerned about what is going to happen when I deliver a little baby but Luke is still stuck in limbo. Do we take Jelly to the store and have him pick Luke out? Does Luke *appear* at the hospital? Yet another thing I need to figure out before August 1st.

Listy

I want to buy a baby bed. Even though I know that we won't even use it until he outgrows the bassinet. I like this one, but all the recent crib recalls have me antsy. And it is a bit more than I wanted to spend...
~~~
Last night Brother was driving me bonkers with his incessant refusal to do homework so I went and ran myself a bubble bath in the Jacuzzi to get 'calgon' to take me away. Anyway, Jelly Bean wanders in and says, "Why you taking that bubble bath?" And I replied, "Because my legs are swollen." So he says, "My legs are swollen, too. Lots. All over." And then proceeds to climb in with me.
~~~
Jelly Bean has just been stung by a bee. Honey is going to pick him up from school because I am nervous about it. Good husband. Honey just left Lowes where he met the contractor because we needed to buy interior doors for the addition. And he remembered the $25 coupon off a purchase of $250 or more. VERY Good Husband. I shall give him a kiss.
~~~
I am constantly hungry and need to pee. I told my assistant today that I need a shirt that says, "I'm hungry and I have to pee." She said, "Yes, I am sensing a theme here," because I say those things all the time. How boring, right? I should probably just keep it to myself, yes?
~~~
We don't really have any plans for this weekend. I am so glad of that. No pressure, nothing we have to do. Maybe I will finally get the house a little cleaner. The addition is almost completed on the inside, which is pretty exciting. Because boy, oh boy, do I want these freaking construction workers out of my house and to take their damn port-a-potty with them.
~~~
My mother in her sweetness and inability to sit still for more than 5 seconds painted our bathroom and the baby's room this week. The bathroom is orange and the baby's room is blue with an orange accent wall, to match the bedding I have. I really love the bathroom, but wasn't loving the orange with the blue, but I am hoping that once I get the room loaded in and decorated, the colors will become background instead of so prominent. Maybe? Maybe.
~~~

Oh, but no.

Ug, I am so put out.

I posted an article on Facebook about the recent Arizona law censoring certain types of classes pertaining to ethnicity and the UN condemnation of such actions and said, basically, that Arizona has lost its mind. On the surface, when I read the actual law (and posted the link to it) it doesn't seem that bad. The problem is, I think, maybe not so much the law but maybe the reasoning behind it? It seems to stem from racism and instead of advocating diversity, it is attacking certain curricula on the basis that they are studying Mexican-American or African-American history and "promoting hatred of white people". Literally, the legislation specified that no curricula would be taught that would advocate overthrowing the US government. It seems more like an accusation that that is what the school district was doing, rather than an actual prohibition of such extremism. And in light of Arizona's current legislation beefing up police power to question folks about their immigration status (which, come on, WHO are they going to question? It obviously is a slippery slope to racial profiling), I wasn't all that surprised at the censorship.

But hey! I'm not a lawyer. I could be wrong. Really. Maybe I don't understand all the facts. But, from what I read, that was my take on the subject. And then I got this comment:

"your brainwashed"

And then I hit *DELETE* because no one is going to insult my intelligence on my own darn Facebook page, especially not a FAMILY MEMBER. If he would have decided to engage me in a rational debate or given reasons for his disagreement with my analysis, then I would have happily allowed that to stand. I would have been fine to have been corrected and admitted I was wrong. But to resort to poorly punctuated name calling? No. Not even a little bit.

And now I am perturbed with myself for even giving a crap. I have two degrees. The first was essentially in critical thinking and analyzation. The second was in research. The Insulter has only ever set foot on a campus to perhaps attend a football game. Still, telling me I am stupid (or unethical) is just one of those things that gets. under. my. skin. GAH!

/rant

Like the waves

We just got back from a beachy vacation. A long weekend, really. The beach is one of my favorite places. I feel like listening to the waves feeds my soul in some way. This is the earliest in the year we have ever gone and it was different this time. Not so hot, which was good and not so good. The water was chillier and the overcast skies meant that emerald green water was missing. This was disappointing. But the sand was as white and sugary as ever and Jelly Bean was ecstatic, a huge change from the last time we brought him and he was terrified. Brother played in the waves and Honey and I built castles in the sand. Of course there was a bit of bickering and "I'm bored" and me feeling like I should have been more 'on' to make sure the children were having a Great! Time! But, Dude. This isn't Disney. We should relax a bit, yes? It really was a nice vacation. I think we were all sad to leave and fantasizing just a *little* bit about moving to be there all the time.

It was nice to spend every day, all day with my family. While I was glad to get back to work and my familiar routine, I do miss them all while they are off doing the things they do all day. Work. Study. Play. That coupled with the little baby rolling in my tum much like the waves of the Gulf are rekindling feelings that I wish I could stay at home. I remind myself that last summer when I used my leave and worked part-time it was HARD. It was difficult for me to be patient and deal with the kids in a loving, kind way all day with no breaks. Of course, cramming all my full time work into a part-time schedule was a bit nuts as well. Maybe someone is thinking, like I am thinking, that working part-time is still working? And not the same as staying home full time? Not the same, granted. But is it easier to be home all the time? I don't know. This is an experience I lack. Anyway, at the end of the summer, I felt really grateful for my job and was quite ok with our situation.

Now I am ambivalent. I plan on taking my 12 week maternity leave and then going back to work. Mostly I am at peace with this. But, when the new baby comes, half my paycheck will pay for daycare. While I realize that this is really very inexpensive for three kids, it still smarts a bit. Still, I don't want to try to get by just on Honey's salary. We hypothetically could do it, but it would mean tight belts and no wiggle room. And I do like my job. I like being able to decide to put the kids in activities if I want to put in the time, because the money is there if I choose to use it for that purpose. I like that having more resources gives us more choices. I like staying involved professionally. I also like that my job is flexible and laid back a good bit of the time. This allows me to be more involved in the evenings. (Although I am still tired a lot. Don't get me wrong. But who isn't? I'm just saying, it could be worse.)

I am sending good vibes into the future, hoping, like everything, there will be an adjustment period and then it will be ok.

Another Pregnancy Post

(Note: Not for anyone weak of constitution or in their first trimester.)

Ah, the glories of pregnancy. There are wonderful parts, really. The thumpthumpthumping of the little one under your shirt. Watching your tum roll with waves of movement. The excitement over every little baby you see and coo over thinking, "I'm going to have one of these very soon!"

But then there are other things...

I have terrible heartburn. I know why. I ate a bunch of carbs for breakfast and too little protein and now it feels like someone has dumped noxious acid, or maybe Vodka, down my esophagus and then set it on fire.

So I chew a nasty chalky antacid tablet. And the pain is instantly gone and replaced with...you guessed it...nausea. I may vomit into my trashcan. (What would you rather have? Terrible pain or the nausea-that-never-ends, much like the annoying song.)

My husband made dinner last night. A yummy combination of pasta and vegetables and chicken. It was really good. I brought some for lunch today and reheated it and the pasta and vegetables were yummy, but the chicken was not.

There was nothing wrong with the chicken. It was the same yummy chicken from last night. Except that chicken, today, is disgusting. People who eat chicken are suffering from pica. Especially the chicken in canned soups. (Ug.) I may, once again, vomit into my trashcan.

Food is either indescribably delicious or categorically disgusting. I said to my husband the other day, with a screwed up face of disgust, something like, "Ug, cookies are disgusting. I hate cookies." And he looks at me and says, "You don't hate cookies." Then I retort, "Ok. Usually I don't. But right now for this very minute, they are disgusting." This is how it is.

At the same time, I have eaten some truly wonderful things lately. Like, for instance, the best chicken sandwich of my life. (Please disregard all previous disparaging remarks about chicken.) It was the spicy chicken sandwich from Wendy's and, if I could have stopped eating it, I would have built a shrine to it in the addition to my house. I have co-workers who love to go to lunch with me because I get so excited and literally clap my hands when it is lunch time. Some days I could eat and eat and eat. Ok, most days are like that.

But this is the longest the nausea has ever lasted for me. I still have to be exceptionally careful in the mornings or I will spend an absurdly long time gagging into the closest receptacle. And bodily fluids, including my own? Might as well put me to bed with a bucket. Even blowing my own nose is a... problem. To say the least. Of course, not blowing my nose? Even bigger problem. Sometimes I have to walk into a completely different room to mentally dissociate with the grossness that threatened to toss me over the edge.

Just writing this post has made me feel sick.

Little Baby No-Name-Just-Yet

So, let's talk baby names. Because, really, we've got nothing. Well, a bit more than nothing. Frankly, I am not loving any of our options and feel like there is something out there I just haven't heard. I didn't *love* Brother's name when he was born, but I love it now. Classic, but seemingly unused in his age group. Jelly Bean's name I just knew was right. This next little bear? I am unsure.

For various reasons, I am avoiding M names, names that end with N, and names longer than two syllables (due to the infamous hyphenated Last-Name.) Alas, I do like some names that have these qualities, but we are trying to narrow the field, right?

And the finalists are:

• Seth
• Henry
• Luke
• William

Now, I like the idea of having a meaningful/family name as a middle name, but something all his own for the first name. This is how the other two boys ended up being named, although I didn't realize it until I had to come up with another boy name. Honey likes the name Charles for family and meaning. I like the name William for family and meaning. I am not much a fan of Charles because I don't like the way it sounds. Unctuous, maybe, with a touch of snobbery. I guess I feel differently about William because I have known so many Williams, even though, if pressed, I would say they are equally formal. But Honey likes the idea of a little Will running around. And I will admit, that is attractive to me, but still...I don't love the full name of William as a first name.

Brother is rooting for Seth because it happens to be the name of the protagonist in this series of books (which is highly recommended to those who like YA Fantasy, i.e. Harry Potter, Percy Jackson, etc.) Jelly Bean also has a baby in his belly (!!!) and he frequently reminds me "My baby named LUKE!" Accent on the LUKE! Luke may be out because I went around telling what I thought was a very funny joke regarding the name, but I think it turned Honey off a bit because it was slightly at his expense. It's not really a secret that Honey is a big Star Wars fan and a bit of a nerd (What? I *like* nerds.) I told everyone he wanted to name the baby Luke so he could go around saying, "Luke. I am your Father." Ha? Funny, right? Meh, maybe not so much. Honey never actually said this, I just went around spouting it for funsies.

So! All this chatter has left me approximately not at all closer to deciding on a name. Maybe we will just wait until he is born and THEN pick! Or, you know, fret about it for a while longer.

Let's Talk Baby

I have an ultrasound tomorrow to see if the little alien in my abdomen has decided to grow any and maybe catch up with his gestational age. I always seem to gain a bunch of weight right around...now. And I have been supremely hungry. Like oh-my-freaking-god-if-I-don't-eat-RIGHT-NOW-someone-is-going-to-die hungry. So, hopefully I am growing the baby and not just me.

Just two days ago I started to feel him move on the outside, like with my hand. And you can watch my tum move, too. Fun. Like the best part. Last night I went to go see Wicked with a friend of mine and he either loved it or hated it, as expressed by him doing the Macarena on my bladder all through Act II. Of course, it could have been he was working out all his energy from the copious amounts of dinner I had consumed.

The same friend I went to the show with has offered to throw me a "sprinkle" and I have accepted. I know I said I didn't want one, because I wanted to buy stuff for myself. But frankly, this is the first party in my life someone has asked to have for me. I did all the work for my first shower and the second one, I was whining about how I really NEEDED a shower and then she offered to have one for me. (No judgements on my manners, please. I was griping with no end in mind was genuinely surprised when she offered. Really!) Not really the same as someone approaching you and offering, you know? And since we had a shotgun-type wedding, I didn't get a bridal shower of any sort and only a vague ghost of a reception. All that aside, I am going to make the guest list short and sweet and the invite will have something on it cutesy about gifts not being mandatory. Maybe this?

If you'd like to bring a gift, try a necessity
But if you'd rather not, please just come enjoy the company!

Too perky? Necessities being stuff like diapers, wipes, bibs, baby socks (because they evaporate), etc. I am pretty much insisting on the 'sprinkle' and the loosey goosey attitude on gifts because, I don't know if you guys have noticed, but people on the Internets can get down right vicious when it comes to a baby shower for a second or third child. Like, basically they are referring to the mother-to-be as a gold-digging present whore. Yikes! Is it really all that awful to want to have a small little get together when you are pregnant to celebrate a new sweetie little baby and coo over teensy diapers? I don't know.

We are still stuck on a name. The name Honey likes sounds a little aristocratic to me and incorporates a family name from his side. Well, the last kid got a family name from his side and I kinda want to use a family name from my side this time. At the same time, this is our last baby and I don't want him to be disappointed that he didn't get to use this one name he wanted to use. Maybe I can get him a fish and let him name the fish this name. But he has to clean the tank.

This post has crappy transitions and is fuzzy. Much like my brain these days.

Mishmash

Pregnancy is not glamorous. While I do love my protruding belly and the little fishy flopping feelings in my tum, I am having a hard time not peeing on myself. Also? Heartburn is so much worse this time. Imagine having to put a colleague on hold to wince through the pain. Yuck. I woke myself up *repeatedly* last night snoring. Am sexy beast, no? I ask Honey, "Why don't you poke me or something??" He says it is cute. One more item to cast on the pile of evidence mounting against his sanity.

Pregnancy is..
It is...
Just not ladylike.
~~~~~

There was TAP meeting last night and we elected an entire new Board! And I'm not on it! Can I even convey how exciting this is for me? And apparently we are in the running to win some sort of award from the State TAP because our membership is so high for a new program? Guess who is the Membership Chair. That would be ME. Guess I didn't do such a crappy job after all. Who knew?
~~~~~

I am struggling with feeling disappointed about the whole 'third son' thing. I want to talk about it, but it feels so awful to even think such things. Shame on me, I know. I do know better. Still, this was my last hurrah. You only get one life and in this life, I will not have a daughter. Anyway, that is all I am going to say about that. I feel like such a snotty, ungrateful bitch for even thinking it.
~~~~~

The construction has started on Our House. I wanted to take pictures and do this whole blow by blow reporting on it....and I haven't. Now, the foundation isn't even poured yet. There is still time! But between play rehearsal and TAP meetings and conferences and work, I haven't even grocery shopped...well, I can't tell you the last time I grocery shopped.
~~~~~

Brother is in a play. Did I tell you Brother was in a play? Well he is. And intellectually, I always knew that plays are time consuming. But, DUDE. I was not prepared for the actual time-suck of the reality. But it will be over soon..by the end of the month there will be no more play. And we can do homework before 8 o'clock at night! And I might actually see my kid! Literally, I have gone into his room at night the past two nights just to make sure he is there, because...he is never ever home. What if I left him at rehearsal? AHHH!

Did I mention I have nighttime anxiety? I have nighttime anxiety.
~~~~~

The weather is lovely here. There are camellias and flowering pears and I can see daffodils blooming on my drive home. Sometimes, I simply love living in the South.

Boy, that was tough.

Whew! So, where have I been? Well. Mostly depressed and scared and lying in a ditch. Ok, not so much that last one.

So, tell me. Did you have a quad screen? Scary-your-baby-has-birth-defect screening? Well, I didn't have it for either of the boys, but I have been so weird about this pregnancy that Honey said, why not have the test? Then it will come back fine and you will feel better about the pregnancy! Right? Right.

Except, I failed it.

One in 55 chance of Down Syndrome.

And even though I knew it was just a screening, those seemed like rather high odds to me. Sooo, I panicked. I tried not to. I tried to wait and see. But no. See, Me = Control Freak. This = Situation in Which I Have No Control. So, bad. Anyway, as fast as the Perinatologist would see me, I was in his office and hour away having an ultrasound with a really heavy handed tech. (Ouch!) I didn't watch. I didn't want to know the sex. I just counted ceiling tiles. The Perinatologist told me that the OB's office put in the wrong due date (!!!!) and that it was really 1 in 197, not 1 in 55. Still high enough odds to need additional screening/testing, so I am only moderately miffed at my practice. And then he offered me the amniocentesis. I got the amnio.

He was really a nice guy and reminded me of a Muppet (a cross between Sam the Eagle and Beaker) but he really bombarded me with information. The baby was small, and therefore had a shorter femur than would be expected at this gestational age, which is a soft marker for Down (the femur thing, not necessarily being small). However! The baby is small. Therefore my due date could be later than it was originally noted AND the stupid OB practice had made my due date nearly two weeks earlier than it is currently and that would have screwed with the screening ....Anyway, I couldn't imagine going into that appointment without having done enough research to understand what he was talking about and my options, you know? I knew when I walked in the door that there was nothing he could say to me that would make me not want the amino. I had played a million scenarios in my head and knew what I wanted. I wanted to know, for sure, no doubts. And so I did it. And TV makes that look soooooo much worse than it really is. I have had blood drawn with more fear and pain.

Anyway, then you wait for two anxiety-filled weeks until they tell you what the results are. They have to culture the cells and these things take time. I literally told the nurse "that's crappy" when she mentioned it. Two Weeks. We didn't tell anyone what was going on, except my mom and dad. I had to (chose to) spend two weeks acting like nothing was wrong and I just didn't have the energy to do it here as well.

And yesterday was the end of the two weeks. And everything is fine. All the little chromosomes are where they are supposed to be and everything is fine. Insert HUGE SIGH of RELIEF. And we found out the sex.

We're having a boy.

It must be cramped in there...

So, this morning I am putting on my makeup and Jelly Bean is standing on the toilet watching me.

*FLUSH*

JB: Mommy, what's that?
Me: Mascara. It's not for kids.
JB: I'm a kid and Brother's a kid and Daddy's a kid?
Me: Daddy is not a kid, but most of the time, boys don't wear makeup.

*FLUSH*

Me: Jelly, quit flushing the toilet for no reason! It's wasteful. Save some water for the animals and fish who need it. (Thinking of the old Sesame Street cartoon.)
JB: Why?
Me: Because there is only so much water in the world. Save some for the animals.
JB: Animals? Like Giraffes?
Me: Yes! (Thinking: Whee! He GETS IT!)
JB: And crocodiles?
Me: Yes, those too!
JB: There are animals in the toilet?
Me: *Stunned Look* Um, no.
((Launch into diatribe on conservation. Get blank looks from three-year-old.))
...Anyway, just quit flushing the toilet.

((We go to get shoes on.))

Me: Jelly Bean, come here and sit down to put on shoes.
((Jelly Bean proceeds to run 20 feet away from me and sit down.))
Me: No, come HERE. I have your shoes.
JB: *walks over* Why? Because there are animals in the toilet?
Me: Let's go to school.
JB: Why?

Monday Blues

• I am suffering from the Monday blues. Not sure the calendar reading "Tuesday" is really going to improve this.
• My ass is numb. Walking around might be in order.
• The bottled water thing is empty. I would stop being a lazy slacker and go get a new one, but I know that if I do this highly inadvisable thing - lifting a bazillion pound/five gallon water bottle - there will be much pain and I will regret it.
• I avoid lifting my three-year-old for this very reason. *Ouch* Not that he is a bazillion pounds or a water bottle of any sort...
• I have chocolate covered chocolate chip granola bars in my office. This does not cheer me.
• Will go steal yummy dove chocolates from co-worker's office. Will not feel guilty about it.
• Have emailed said co-worker to inform her of thievery and my lack of guilt. And to inform her that she is partly culpable for being at a conference while I am stuck in the office.
• Get reply that she doesn't care and I am pillage her stash at will.
• Decide co-worker is slight wacko, even if generous wacko.
• Just got a call from annoying cheery guy. Wish annoying cheery guy would not call so much.
• It's raining and cold. Is there anything worse than wet and cold? Perhaps I was a cat in a previous life.
• Do not really believe in 'previous lives'. So, scratch that last bit.
• Is it Friday yet?
• Tell me something great going on in your life right now. Will make us both feel better.

House Talk

So, I am kinda sad.

We are building an addition to our house and Honey and I know n-o-t-h-i-n-g about building stuff. So our contractor, who is a friend of mine and is cutting us a huge deal, has a lot of education to do with us. But now, due to many questions and changing of the minds on the part of people who don't want to pay X for Y (that would be US), I can feel him getting frustrated. :/ He tells me that each change I make requires him to basically go back to the drawing board. I am sad about this.

I don't want him to be frustrated, but still want to retain my right to say: What would it cost to put another vent in the family room OR Why on God's Green Earth does it cost $400.00 to install a countertop that costs $68.00? Oh! Or this one: Why do we have to add an additional $400.00 for the subcontractors to pick up their own trash and carry it to the dumpster?? Which is another $600.00.

And apparently, we are getting a deal? So I shouldn't look a gift horse in the mouth? Bah. It is frustrating and makes me anxious to the point where I feel like maybe I might throw up my hands and say, "Charge me anything! I'll pay it! Just don't be mad at me for being stupid!"

Of course, I won't. But the urge is there.

While we couldn't afford the addition if he were to be actually charging us for the general contracting work and not getting us the materials for cost and I am so totally grateful...(Although, did I mention that whenever I *do* try to thank him for giving us this 'gift' he brushes off my comments and tells me to thank him when it actually gets done.) Anyway. Am sad and confused and unsure. And hormonal, which doesn't help.

I wish we could get this show on the road, but apparently? I am the reason for the delays.

Home Again

Last week was dreadful. It was so so hard. Why, you ask? Because....


Dum dum da DUMMMMM!

Honey was on a business trip. For 8 effing days. (Grumblegrumble*explicative*Grumble) And there was no one to help shoulder the burden of play practice and homework and the-inexplicable-three-year-old-who-does-not-sleep-through-the-night.

You know how they say that a husband/father should take the kids for the weekend and then will begin to appreciate how much the wife/mother does? I think this works just as well when the shoe is on the other foot. Because, let me tell you, I am so much more grateful for every little thing my husband does this week than I was two weeks ago. Before, I'll admit, I would get into fits where I felt like I did everything and he didn't do a darn thing. I pay the bills! I cook the dinner! I get the kids to school and home again every. single. day!

Ok, so that may be true. But do you know what I don't do? The dishes. Or take out the trash. Or roll it to the end of the driveway. And I rarely handle baths. Most of the time, bedtime stories and pjs for Jelly Bean are handled by Honey. He also puts dinner away (not that I really cooked more than Spaghetti O's and grilled cheese while he was gone), does at least half of the laundry, and cleans up the rabbit cage because my pregnant self can't hack it. And hundreds of other tiny things. Like gets me socks when my feet are cold and brings me a cup of water before bedtime.

I missed him terribly and got the terrible paranoia that maybe he wasn't coming home. Maybe something too terrible for words would happen and I would be all alone and taking care of not two but three children all on my own. And then I would cry and lay all the pictures on the bookshelf flat because I couldn't stand to look at his beautiful face while he was miles and miles away. I'm hormonal. Leave me alone.

But! He's back! And I am so so grateful to have such a wonderful man in my life. I hope this lesson sticks and the next time I feel overwhelmed I remember that it could be so so much worse.

Pretending...

...that it is Friday. Let's do a list.

• I am hungry and wishing it was time for lunch. I am fantasizing about what delicious things Lunch holds in store for me. I am pretty sure fries are involved. Or Thai! Oooo.
• I am having pants issues. I had lost a bit of weigh pre-pregnancy and so was wearing my old clothes that were mightily too big everywhere, except in the waist, where they were getting snug. Imagine, flowy skirt-like jeans with the crotch at the knees. Not good. But! While they were lost for a while, this morning I located my only pair of maternity jeans. I put them on this morning and went to look in the mirror and thought DAMN as Apple bottom Jeans played in my head. I felt *fine*.
• Then I determined that only a pathetically crazy woman would feel sexy in maternity pants.
• Moving on! TAP is still a cause of frustration. Our president thought it would be a good idea to buy a house a million miles away (or, you know, 30) and now is resigning. In the next couple of weeks, I will be TAP Presidente. Displeased. Anxious. Didn't appreciate the time-sucking responsibilities I did have... and now. Good lordy, praying for May.
• While I know it is quite irrational, as the maternity pants are necessary and I have seen the ultrasound and heard the heartbeat and let's not forget the never ending morning-noon-and-night sickness.... But I am not sure that I am pregnant. I know! Craziness! Ahhh! I get it. I really do. Rationally, I think it is pretty likely. (Ok, really likely.) I wonder what is causing this strange doubt.
• I think what might cure it is feeling the baby move. I keep thinking....???Maybe? Was that the illusive baby? No...Probably not. And I can't remember when I felt either of the boys move. Do you remember? When did you feel your babies move first? I am 15 weeks and I feel like it should have happened already for a third-time mom.

Tired

Oh, ya'll.

I am so fricking fracking t-i-r-e-d. Yes yes, I know. Everyone's tired. But listen. I'm really tired.
Here. I'll show you.

8:30 PM - Finish reading story and singing Mermaid Song to the Bity Bean.

9:00 PM - Finish reading chapter of Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows to Brother. (Whee! Last book! I have read them all out loud. Those are long-ass books. Give me a prize.)

9:00 PM - I get to sit down and read a book from the pile (PILE!) my friend lent me. Oh, yay.

10:00 PM - I decide that, while painful, I need to put the yummy book down and sleep.

11:17 PM - Not asleep.

12:45 AM - Still. Not. Asleep. Ahhh! What is wrong with meeeee?

12:51 AM - Wish for Benedryl. Think that if I took Benedryl, I would not wake in the morning and Brother would miss the bus so, probably not a good idea.

1:00 AM - Jelly Bean wakes up, fussing. I go see what's up with him. He is doing this low grade whimpering thing and is not answering me. I flip on the light and he tells me to leave him the hell alone, he is sleeping. (I may be paraphrasing.)

1:20 AM - Jelly Bean climbs into bed with me.

1:20 and 30 seconds AM - Jelly Bean coughs. And coughs. And coughs some more. I go to get him a cough drop and rub Vicks on his chest. We all have a cold that only seems to make problems in the middle of the night. Why, virus? Why?

1:22 AM - Jelly fusses at me to lay down and sleep and I give him mini-lecture on how I can't sleep until the cough drop is gone or he will surely choke and die. But not in so many words.

1:45 AM - I get involuntary mammogram from small boy. Ouch.

2:00 AM - I get tired of being kicked *just* as I drift off and take Jelly Bean back to bed.

2:30 AM - Jelly comes back. *Sigh*

3:00 AM - I get him propped on pillows on the other side of the king size bed. Kicking and coughing cease until...

5:45 AM - I get kicked in the nose. I scoop up a rag-doll Bean and tote him to his bed and beg him to please please just sleep. I crawl back in bed.

7:05 AM - SHIT! Brother has to be on bus in minutes. Of course, I go to wake him and am informed he needs a shower. Hustle him into shower, into uniform, and out the door.

7:20 AM - Take shower. Feel ok. Wonder why....

8:00 AM - Finish grooming. Look decent. Go wake Jelly, who usually gets up at 7:00 AM. Dress him and head to work.

See? Tired. You would be, too.

What it means for New Orleans...

I don't watch football. I don't even like football. I don't wear the shirts or going around saying, "Who Dat?"...Although my children do. All my life I have dreaded football season with it's Saturday-Sunday-Monday of no TV time for anyone that doesn't involve football. No trips on the weekends as to not miss the game. I think football might satisfy some primal need for war, but without the killing. I'm not a fan, to say the least.

Last night was different.

I think I understand. I think I understand in a way that folks from other places might not understand. This football season has been a unifying beam for people in South Louisiana. "We Believe" has been their mantra. I have heard rumor that the Archbishop in New Orleans got special permission from Pope Benedict to take down the Vatican flag off of Saint Louis, the oldest cathedral in the United States, and replace it with a Saints flag because this football season has meant so much to the people in New Orleans.

I long for New Orleans. The beautiful lady who I knew in my childhood, full of music, color, and the smell of beignets. The street artists and catfish po-boys and having waitresses in the Quarter teach my Ohio-bred self what 'dressed' meant. I am reluctant to say that the city died on September 29, 2005, because it didn't really. It feels like the world is cleaved into before and after. There is no way to reclaim exactly what was lost. Of course, we rebuild. The spirit of New Orleans lives in it's people, not so much in its streets. But when the people leave...where does the spirit go? I think we saw it shining like a bright star, all across the nation last night. Last night, you couldn't move in the Quarter. They shut down Canal. It made Mardi Gras look like a small birthday party for an octogenarian. Strangers were hugging and crying. There were little bits of New Orleans all across the country. Small communities of New Orleanians who had been flung from their homes in 2005, forced to rebuild lives elsewhere. Five years later, all at once, we were all acutely aware that wherever you might go, your heart is always at home.

I know it is just a game. I do. But while there are many things I do not believe in, I do believe in the power of belief. I do think that the human mind is an incredible thing and that our thoughts are a force for shaping the world we live in. And while, really, it was just a game played by just some men in just some city, it was also an assimilation. It was a long awaited reply to those stranded on rooftops scrawled with huge letters saying, "We are Americans."

We are Americans.

Snippet

We are celebrating Honey's birthday today. Originally, we had planned to have dinner and go to a movie. Then life intervened. Brother auditioned for a play yesterday and they are having a 2 hour rehearsal tonight. I found out about this, um TODAY. The rehearsal ends after our movie starts, but not before our movie ends. And we have already bought the bleeding tickets. *Insert groan here* So, dinner is out. Wrangling with the parents, who are watching the munchkins, is in. As is me taking half the day off of work to try to make some semblance of our plans happen. And since we are going out to lunch instead of dinner, I will have room for movie snacks.

(Who says there's no silver lining? Who?)

So, Anyway

We have a pretty busy weekend ahead of us.

We are celebrating Brother's birthday with a mix of friends, pizza, and laser tag. I have never played laser tag. I can bet you that will still be true on Monday.

Later on this weekend, we have another birthday party to attend. One for which I have not bought an adequate present.

Other things I have not bought:

• Snacks for Brother's class tomorrow.
• Any sort of Valentine's Day present for those I love, even though I really really want to.
• Milk. And we really need milk.

This is the banality of everyday life. I can't get excited about it. Everything looks foggy in the afternoons to me. I can't figure out how to not be tired. I tried going to bed super early last night, and due to my lack of consciousness from the hours of 8 PM to 6:30 AM, all hell broke loose. There were many tears: mine and the children's. And dinner was not put away and homework was not done and general terror reigned. That last part can be chalked up to hormones. And I am still really tired. So, anyway. Lessons learned. I am a little worried about what the world will look like when we have three kids. Right now our parenting strategy is pretty much divide and conquer. This works well for us because a) we have two kids and b) they are pretty far apart in age. But what do you do when you have a 9-year-old, a 4-year-old, and a newborn?

Hope the newborn likes the sling, I guess. Nurse while correcting spelling homework. Figure it out in other words.

Whoo!

Last week I was sick sick sick. Not morning sickness, sick. But like real live infested with viruses and bacteria and someone please oh please save me sick.

That kind of sick.

But! Now I am very much better after a trip to the urgent care center and shots and antibiotics and steroids and painkillers....ahhhhh. I am filled with joie de vivre and wonder at the beauty of the world without sickness in it.

Obviously, am not 'good' at being sick.

The fun news is that I had my ultrasound last week and LOOK! There is a wee little baby in my tum! And it is teensy and cute and I saw little fingers and toes and thigh bones and a perfectly shaped little round head. And eyes! And a nose! And a mouth! And a tiny little heartbeat at 163 beats per minute! Miracle of Miracles. Apparently, I am not gestating a bunch of grapes that made me inexplicably nauseous and gave me super-human scent sensing power. There is a real live tiny person in there.

Wow.

Know what else is so good? Food. I feel like at long last, I may have returned to the land of the eaters. And there are Fritos! Who knew Fritos were so good? And ripe ripe pears. Oh my yum. I am currently eating a chocolate bar that is bigger than my hand (note: I do not have small hands.)

Anyway, I am feeling great today. Did you notice?

Melancholy-ish

Jelly Bean is being really cute lately. (You know, aside from thinking our bed is a good place to spend the night and screaming holy-bloody-murder when it is bedtime.)

I am particularly enjoying how he asks me if things have peanuts in them. We have a book that talks about food allergies that we read together a lot. I feel this line of conversation/discussion is important because I want him to feel comfortable talking about his allergy and I want him to talk to other people about his allergy. I like how he asks, "Do pears have peanuts? Do crocodiles have peanuts?" He probably hears me ask restaurants, bakeries, grocery store folks all the time about whether things have nuts in them.

We did have a close situation where we were at an open market and they had some cookies for sale on the counter. I like to support small local businesses and the cookies looked yummy, so I asked the clerk (since there was no labeling) whether the cookies contained nuts. She said no and I bought some. We got in the car and I handed a cookie to Honey and to myself first. We bit into them and at first glance, no nuts. So I gave Brother and Jelly both a cookie. Brother bit into his and yelled. It was full of walnuts. So I hurriedly snatched Jelly's cookie away and they all went in the trash.

I felt a little foolish, but we are still learning how to deal with this thing, how strict we have to be. Apparently, stricter than we are. But Jelly was fine and very proud of himself that he didn't bite the cookie. Thinking back, I am so relieved. At best, it would have landed us in the Emergency Room had things turned out differently. I won't lie. Recent research published on FAAN has shown that some kids (around 20%) with peanut allergies grow out of them. I feel like this is a long shot, but I do hold onto a thread of hope.

~~~~~~

Brother is growing up. He is so tall. It seems like the past 9 years have flew by so quickly. Now it is spelling tests, scooter rides, and Lego's. In another 9 years? College, friends, adulthood. God, now isn't that enough to bring you to your knees? The fleetness of life.

But 9 is not too old still. I leaned over him and gave him a hug this morning while he was drinking milk and eating mini powdered donuts before getting on the bus. I asked him if he felt like I hugged him enough. I had been worried the night before that I hadn't been paying him enough attention with feeling sick and taking care of things that can't be put off until I feel better. But he said yes, that I hug him enough. I tell him that he is special. Because before Honey, before Jelly, it was Brother and me. We were the beginning of our family, long before marriage and daddies and little brothers. I want him to feel the specialness of that and to save it up for times when he feels strange because he might look different from his siblings because of his skin tone and dark hair; because of the hints of Asia that are in his face, while Jelly looks just like Honey with a mop of blond hair.

Whenever either of the children want something that I am not willing to give: time, loss of comfort, action, I remember this: there is a limited number of times he will ask me to read to him. There is a limited number of times I will get to make the dinner he wants. There are only so many nights in our precious lives to tuck him in.

So, I just try to remember.

Advice

So. Guys.

This is it. My last rodeo. This little lime sized being in my abdomen (which is starting to protrude, so either I am *popping* a bit or need to lay off the nachos...) is the very last. I feel really sure of this (right now.) Anyway, there are some things I want to do.

First order of business? I am not having any kind of baby shower. For both my boys, there was much generosity among my small circle of friends and family and I never really got to go out and hand select anything for them. While I am not going to turn down baby gifts (as if!) I do want the freedom to go choose a good bit of things myself.

We went lurking in the attic and found all the things we had put back after having Jelly Bean, so there is very little we are going to need to buy in the way of gear. We have bassinet, Bjorn, swing, bouncy seat, etc. And last time we went to Disney, we got a nice umbrella-type stroller for Jelly Bean, so we have that as well for the new wee one. What I wanted to ask YOU about was slings. I have always wanted one, every since I was pregnant with Brother a decade (!!!) ago. But I have no idea how to navigate the sling world. Did any of you use one? Which do you like? Are they hard to use? I really think I want one. I want to be a babywearing earthy crunchy mama. At least a little.

Another thing I want to get is one of those baby straight jacket...er...special swaddling blankets. Did you have one of those? What kind? Do you like it? Am I better off with just receiving blankets?

Make sure to tell me if there was anything that you had wanted that you didn't get as well. Like I said, this is my last time. I don't want to miss a thing.

Sorry

So, are you tired yet of hearing of my early pregnancy woes? Then I suggest you mosey along, because here I go again.

Instant messages sent to Boss:

Ug.

I know why you always forget how awful you feel during the first trimester. It is evolutionary necessary, lest the species no longer exist.

I may lie down on the floor. Don't be alarmed if you see me in a heap.

I am still considering lying on the floor. Wondering if my exhaustion/nausea overpowers the whole "man, that floor is dirty" issue.

I have a meeting tomorrow far far away in a little podunk town. They will give me a lunch meat sandwich for lunch. What are my risks for toxoplasmosis? Let's ask Dr. Google. Prognosis: Death and Destruction. I think I will bring a SunButter and Jelly as a backup.

Additionally in this whiny disjointed post, it is National Delurking Day or some crap like that. And while I wouldn't mind a feeble waggle of the fingers from the comment section, I understand if you want to stay hidden. I lurk a bit myself.

I hope you all feel much much better than I do!

/whinebitchmoan