Seven's Blessing

My letter to Southwest Airines

Here’s an email I sent to Southwest Airlines tonight. I urge anyone else who is concerned about the TSA to write their congressional representatives, airports, and airlines.

I am a fairly-frequent flyer. I go between between Houston Hobby and Love field sometimes 3 – 4 times a month. My family frequently flies to Dallas because it’s more convient than driving. However, as the TSA continues to infringe upon travelers, there is no longer a convience factor.

It is my understanding that airports may choose to provide their own security rather than submit to the underpaid, undereducated, unscreeened TSA agents.

The two airports I travel through the most, Hobby and Love Field, have significant space used by Southwest, the main airline I travel with. I would like to let you know that my family and I have decided we will no longer fly as long as the TSA has a presence at our airports.

Chatting with B

Chatting with B

Here's a little bit of B's time in the hospital room with Seven. I added subtitles because through much of it you can't really here what B's saying.

Chillin'

Seven Chillin'

More Hospital Photos

Big Brother

B (in his best sing-song voice): Calm down, your big brother's here!

First Photos

Click for the album.

Nesting, Stage 2-- IKEA adventure

I mentioned before that Dave and I went to IKEA for $35 worth of organization materials and left with a whole living room worth of desperately long needed couches and accessories. What I didn't mention was the consequences of that decision. You see, the problem with buying furniture is that you have to get it home somehow. Yes, IKEA does have delivery options, but why have something delivered when it fits so nicely in the bed of your truck.

When you buy something big from IKEA, you go downstairs, give your receipt to an attendent who pulls the boxes for you. Then someone helps you get them in your vehicle. I, of course, kept my hands out of this whole process. Not going to get to close to gigantic boxes being flung around when I'm so pregnant. Dave and the Ikea guy loaded it all up in the truck. Nice and tight. I thought about mentioning the need to use a tie down, just incase, but it really was in there pretty tight. And IKEA does a good job with those boxes. They are meant to be taken home by "normal people". (Haha, yea right!)

Keep in mind, this whole story is 9 days before we are having this baby. Dave and I both are feeling incredibly protective and not willing to place myself and our little girl in any danger.

So they load it up, nice and tight, and we head out across Houston at 4pm. Just enough time to get across town before rush hour hits in it's fullness. If you don't know anything about the HOV system in Houston, it is the worst in the country. Even people who have lived here for 10-15 years struggle to use the system. It's tough to get in, and practically impossible to get out of. But it was rush hour, so we decided locating the HOV lane was our best bet. We get just past down town (4:30, traffic is pretty heavy) and one of those ginormous boxes in the back starts to shred! Of course, where are we? In the HOV lane... No exits! No way to get out of this thing, so we just keep going... 10 min later, this thing was in shambles an we were still where? Stuck in the HOV lane.

Pieces of our brand new couch start FLYING out of the bed of the truck! Yep, It's now 4:45, traffic is rushing past us on all sides. Fortunately, we were Where? The HOV lane. It only allows one lane of traffic, so Dave commands, "Stay in the truck!" and stops the traffic to retrieve this thing. 9 days before delivery, you pretty much follow any command that insures your safety. So, Dave gets the item, puts it in the back seat and we head onward. This happened THREE times!!! That's right, You know those idiots with crap falling out of their truck in rush hour traffic... THAT was us! Blocking half of the HOV lane, everyone having to slow down to 30 to pass. OH, and did I mention it had been raining??? That's right, so everything that fell out was now covered in mud! (Sighs.)

Eventually the back seat was full. No more room for our mud soaked couch pieces. Dave worked on it for like 25 min, trying desperately to get it all stable. No such luck. I kept waving the tie down ropes at him, but it really was a two person job. I knew he needed assistance, but.... remember... I was due in 9 days and had been firmly commanded not to place myself and the baby in danger. So I sat there... watching my husband struggle alone, with 5:00 traffic zooming by.

Finally, It becomes obvious that this two-person job just wasn't going to get done alone. So... I need you to picture this... Dave and I, both in our nicest professional clothes. (We had gone in for our last ultrasound and a date before the baby, we really looked pretty good.) Blocking half of the HOV lane in full rage 5:00 traffic. Me- I could not POSSIBLY have looked more pregnant! Holding up these huge boxes, so Dave can climb on top to get these tie downs around everything. I couldn't help but laugh. (I was really surprised no one stopped to help... seriously... this is not the Texas I grew up in.)

So, we get it all tied down. On the way home, Dave shakes his head, "I should have just taken the delivery." I had to ask, "Why? How much was it?" "50 bucks!" HAHAHAHAHA!!! So, the moral of the story is... TAKE THE DELIVERY.

Our new living room

So Dave has now emerged into frantic nesting too. My version includes organizing everything in our house . Dave's includes trips to Sams and Costco, stocking up on anything we could need.

On Thursday, our nesting worlds collided. We had our last ultrasound.... Officially 1 week and 4 days before our Zoë is born. We went out to eat alone while we still had a chance. Then we went to Ikea... I needed some closet organizers (making room for our little girl). Dave was looking for a glider rocking chair.

We left the store with closet organizers, a couch & love seat (I love them!), and accessories. Our living room now looks quite lovely. All right, it wasn't THAT much of an impulse buy... We have both HATed those couches ever since I was dumb enough to accept them as a hand-me-down 6 years ago (they were already 7 years old at the time.) The couch had a Giant hole in it 12 inches and the springs were sticking straight up. Fortunately, it was hidden. None-the-less, not a safe place to lay an infant. It was time!

Not good timing with the mass quantities of funding disappearing from our coffers, but in spite of my typically too-cheap-to-spend-$-self, it just needed to happen. We actually looked for one in June, but I was too busy puking or comatose for us to be successful. And, somehow, it was the right thing to do in spite of the timing.

We got an inexpensive rug and a couple of matching throw pillows. And I Love It!!!! My living room now resembles me and what I like rather than whatever someone else gave me. Hallaleujah! I feel like I've been let out of unable-to-decorate-my-own-house prison.

Languages

B: "Do developers learn a new language when they make the games for the iPod?"

Pounding Dave

Well, with the help of Tylenol and Benadryl each night before bed, I'm now sleeping at least to 4am and feeling much better. Bless Dave's heart.... I turn over like 10-15 times a night. My belly's so big it almost takes a forklift to turn myself over. I have to build up some serious force.... Poor Dave keeps getting beat up... 4-5 times a night, I find myself pounding the guy in one way or another. It's a good thing he loves me so much.

2 good weeks

Well, I had two good weeks there. I am truly grateful. I feel a lot better about life. I got a lot of important preparations done. Most of the crutial things are done. Still got plenty to do, but it really helped.

I fear I've now slipped back into a painful insomnia phase. Awake half the night cause both hips hurt too much to sleep on them anymore. But, it's all good....
2 1/2 more weeks. Then I'll be up all night still, but we will have our little baby girl. We are all so excited!

Halloween

For the record, I understand and absolutely respect the values of many of my peers who shy away from Halloween activities on Sunday.

But Dave was reading someone's blog this week. She said something interesting that may have just changed how I feel about the topic. She is a non-member who loves the gospel and is married to a member...

She said... Jesus said suffer the little children to come unto me. Halloween is the one day a year when we have children, of all ages, knocking on our doors. She said, "What would Jesus Do?" He would welcome them. He would bring his very best candy, so that they would know and remember his home, and want to return.

I have a teenage LDS neighbor who hasn't knocked on my door in years. I miss her. I was delighted for her to knock on my door again. Imagine her surprise when she was greeted with a bowl full of the coolest (nostalgic packaging as if from the 30s) full sized candy bars. "Oh, Wow!!!," she said. "Here, you can have another one too. " ("She's my favorite." I told her friend. ) Any opportunity to let her know that she is both loved and welcomed in our home.

I haven't always been as welcoming as I should have been. But, I'm starting to think maybe the blogger was right... That is what Jesus would do. Never miss an opportunity to love.

Nesting

I'm so on a maniacal cleaning spree. Cleaning, throwing out, or storing everything in sight. Including some things that I'm sure I've rarely touched in the past 6 years in our house. Friday, I plowed through like 5 different piles if stuff, scrubbed all the cabinet doors in the kitchen and the refrigerator, yesterday steam cleaned all the carpets (with Dave's help- Thank goodness), today scrubbed down the laundry room. B came by.... He says, "Mom, what are you doing?" Me: "Oh, just cleaning." B: "For Seven.?." Me: "Ya. Just gotta make sure everything is clean for the baby. I cleaned like this before you came too. Lots of preparations."

I just thought... What a wise little boy! He really gets it. I guess somehow, this whole nesting thing just makes sense to him.

Preparations

Dave is self employed and I work part-time. We have medical insurance, but no plans are offered for those who are self employed cover maternity. Dave called our doctor and hospital before we got pregnant and it looked like the bill would be around $5K. WRONG. More like $12K! (That is a LOT of $... And There is a Big difference between $5k and $12K).

So, I've been working on it all year (when I was awake). Collecting the resources is like trying to fill a giant swimming pool with a fire hose sized siphon draining it at the same time. But, now it's time.... The "last" (yeah right) $7K is due in like 2 weeks when we register for the hospital.

I've been working with fervor to find and pool the resources...
Filing Dept care reimbursement account
Filing Medical reimbursement account
Resubmitting unpaid accident claim from last year
A couple of remaining pay checks
AFLAC and maternity disability forms (after the baby's born)

Whew! This is what it means to take care of a family.... Filling out lots of forms. A new kind of nesting.

I created this crazy spreadsheet yesterday of what's coming in and going out when. I'm grateful. Somehow, it's all gonna work out.

Of course, we still have another $10K liability by the end of the year. (Shakes her head and laughs). Somehow this is all gonna work out. Sometimes, you just take a big, deep breath and know that Heavenly Father is gonna take care of you.... He Always Has!

Relatively normal

So, for about the past almost 2 weeks, I have felt relatively normal. Ok, well not "normal", but what I assume is "normal for a woman who's 8 months pregnant". It's amazing.... I'm not in a walking coma, not puking, not a total insomniac, and not in so much pain that I can't function....This must be what "normal" pregnancy is like.

I remember when I was a kid, my P.E. teacher bringing in this medicine ball. It was about twice or three times the size of a basketball and Really heavy to kick or move around. Being 8 months pregnant is like carrying around a 25 lb, dense and amazingly muscularly firm, wiggly/ randomly lopsided medicine ball inside your abdominal cavity. Don't want to move too fast for fear that you'll knock the medicine ball out of it's careful symmetry. Or, heaven forbid, Cause harm. Couldn't move very fast anyway with this ginormous heavy weight. I find myself taking long, hot baths at the end of the day to relax the muscles that have been working so hard to balance this gargantuan weight and to bring circulation back into my feet.

But I must say, this really isn't too bad. I can deal with this level of discomfort. Especially when I know that we will be having a little girl coming soon. This must be what most women experience. No wonder they keep getting pregnant... If this is as bad as it gets for them.

It's been nice. I've had enough energy to get some nesting done.... Taking care of those tasks that are vital to having a stable place for our little girl in just a few weeks. I just feel so much better knowing that I've taken care of those things. I got her pack-n-play (bassinet) set up in our room, went through all of Ian's stuff for gender neutrals, handed down 8 boxes of Ian's clothes (ages B-3) to make room, made some drawer space in our room, got rid of several piles throughout the house, and made a little stack of B-3 month clothes for our little girl. I cleaned out the refrigerator. I'm sure I'll have a mad cleaning spree at some point, but no point right now... Too much time to get it dirty again. But I am grateful to have the energy to take care of my family!

Why I work...

I the church, few women with small children work outside the home when their children are small. I respect this choice and feel it is best for most families. But for me, and my family, things are different.... I work (part time- 3 days) for a couple of reasons.
1) I really love what I do. Every day, I make a real difference in the lives of people with disabilities. A unique difference, one that only I can do. Heavenly Father has planted in me the desire, and trained me up, to make a difference in the world.

2) But more than that, because I want B to have as much time as he possibly can with BOTH parents. I work 3 days and bring home 50% of my family's income. This allows Dave to pay himself only about 50-60% of what he's worth, so his business can grow. Because the financial demands of his family are more reasonable, he doesn't have to work 60-70 hours a week to grow his business meet our needs. Consequently, he spends more time with his family and our son than any man I know! He is available and loves to be with his family. Dave works 40-50 hours a week, but he adjusts his efforts, so that much of it is relaxed time (uploading stuff or making simple changes to his software) after B goes to bed. Taking a few extra hours, or an extra day, to be with his family is par for the course.

I grew up with a workaholic father... Driven by the desperate desire of a very young father to meet the unattainable needs of his family- until he finally cracked. I remember him getting up at 4 am, leaving at 5am, home at 6-7pm, too exhausted to function. Grumpy, tired, unrespected. Never knew or enjoyed his kids. But he worked his is butt off, every day.

I see lots of families where the mother is home, but the dad works 50, 60, 70 hours a week and/ or is gone for weeks on end. Not criticizing their choices.

But for us, the Best choice, is to give our children BOTH of their parents.... Happy, productive parents, who have time and energy to enjoy and treasure every moment, as much as possible.

Motherhood

I must admit, Motherhood bewilders me. You would think that after having had one baby (and numerous ultrasounds) that I would believe that there was actually a baby girl in my belly. But, to be honest, it's still a weird concept for me. Ok, so logically, I get it. And sure, there is definitely some tiny creature doing gymnastics in there. But really, truly, a baby girl... No way. It all seems so incredibly unreal.

I guess because there is a real disconnect between what my body is doing (H.F. is managing that job) and what I am doing... Donating "personal" space and raw materials for a good cause. It's obvious to me that I am not the one in charge of the project... Genetics, hormones, Heavenly Father... Ya. That's who's in charge here.

Me... I'm just doing my best to survive the experience without permanent damage. ;) (well, besides the usual, "your body will never, ever be the same" that goes along with every pregnancy.) I figure the best thing I can do to take care of her is to take care of myself. And get our life/ home ready (which is tough when you can't lift more than 10 lbs).

In the meantime, I just smile every time my little gymnast goes for another round of summersaults, knowing that she must be doing ok. So dearly excited that almost nothing else in this life matters... My family and my baby... That's all that matters.

B is a Mac

B is definitely a Mac. Today he said:

Too bad Lego Harry Potter is a Windows game. If it were a Mac game, it would not be so slow.

Neecians

Today B was talking about the Neecians from Neecious Island. He made that one up on his own. I'm just impressed that he made the language correlation between a place and its people.

Showing

I can always count on people with disabilities to give me an honest interpretation of who I am. So the other day one of my more impaired clients reaches out to touch my belly. He certainly doesn't have the memory to recall that I am pregnant, nor the restraint to inhibit his desire to "rub the tiny budha." So I smiled and took it as an honest evaluation. It's official. I must be finally showing. 5 months and the tiniest belly is finally visible to the unknowing eye. :)

Stupid little fiends

So the little contractor rearranging everything in my abdomen has decided to move on to another project temporarily... Probably to torcher one of my other pregnant friends. Only one small problem... Those tiny hard had fiends left the place in complete disarray. My uterus is just hanging there, cock-eyed, held up by a couple of overstretched ligaments and a two-by-four. The ligaments trying to hold it to my sacrum/ lower back keep wondering how long they have to hold this huge heavy thing. Their over extended, overworked arms trembling with pain, "I don't know how long we can hold this guys."

Of course, everything else is just pissed off ... Doesn't like to be shoved around like that... my Sciatic nerve (huge nerve that connects everything) keeps wondering who in the hell keeps jerking on it. Heck, even my knee, shoulders, neck, and head have all joined in the screaming match. Like a middle school cat fight- everyone's gotta join the chaos.

So I've been to the chiropractor 3x in the past 9 days and had 2 pregnancy massages. All of which have helped to manage this thing. But Wow! Apparently even amazingly skilled chiropractors and Ginormous massage therapists (spending enormous amounts of time pounding the daylights out me to put everything back in place) are no match for those tiny, hard hat bastards. I'm sure I've taken 100 Tylenol in the past 2 weeks. Two at a time. (Sighs.)

SO excited about our little girl!!! She seems to the growing well. But I do wish for a more "normal" level of discomfort in bringing her into the world.

Literacy

B's literacy is expanding exponentially. It's really amazing to watch. He's learning like 10-20 new words a day! It's amazing to me. Dave and I have spent years (since he was 1) laying the phonemic (sound awareness) foundation he needs for reading and writing little by little. But, it's like watching a miracle happen before my eyes. Like giving him crayons and teaching him how to use them, but suddenly he creates a stunning piece of art (just an analogy guys)...Suddenly, he's putting it all together. Several times a day, he reads a word I didn't know he knew. Or sounds out an unfamiliar word. 40-50 times a day he asks us to read to him words he doesn't know. He broke the code and now wants to read every single word or phrase he sees. It's just fascinating to me. I had no idea.

Wicked!!!

We saw Wicked last night. I love musicals. We've seen quite a few. I gotta be honest. I was excited about it, but a little afraid I would just fall asleep.

No way man!!! This thing was absolutely AmaZing!!!!
I had heard a lot about it. I knew the general story line. But to watch Elphaba (sp?) evolve right before your eyes. Wow!!! Her courage to stand up for what she believes and to become someone truly outstanding. Anytime in life someone stands up and does something revolutionary or truly important- they WILL face conflict. It gives me joy to see others become something other than mediocre. Even if, as in her case. She paid a dear price. What a beautiful musical!

I even stayed awake. :). Of course,the traffic was bad, so I hurled all over my dress on the way there. But.. Eh.. It washed off well. ;)

One wonderfully memorable date with my sweet heart!

Corporate restructuring

So my body has decided to do some corporate restructuring...
I can just hear the little guys. "Hmmm. Let's see. I think her uterus is a little to low, let's hike that up a bit here." YOu can hear the little people in hard hats, groaning as they pull the muscles and ligaments into their new location. They pull until they can't possibly achieve any further movement. "That'll work for now."

And "Uhh. Her hormone levels are starting to settle into something liveable. We can't allow that to happen." The little hormone chemists in the pituitary, turn the wheels and open the flood gates. Watch the chemical rise, just enough for the nausea/hurling meter to engage, along with some headaches (just for fun). You hear the whole system slow back to a semi-crawl, "Hmmm. That should do it. If she's not crying from exhaustion, we have not done our job!"

So those little corporate folks and I need to have a talk. I get it.. the baby has now reached 8 oz and is ready for some serious growing. I can see need for muscle rearrangement for the event. But seriously, not getting the need for the nausea/exhaustion guys!!! Isn't that counter productive at this point? You want the baby to gain weight right? I know, I know, she'll always get what she needs. But seriously, can't the rest of us be reasonably comfortable too. This is supposed to be the middle trimester... you know, where I feel like a human being.

Hurricane

Pregnancy is like a hurricane. The storm hits and incapacitates anything in it's path for 4-5 months. Then there's the calm (the eye). A few months of relative peace (2-3 months, 4 if I we're lucky). Take a deep breath, put your life back together, and prepare for the other side- A couple of months of building discomfort (the rains start to return). Followed by... Holy Hell!!! Am I ever going to survive this thing???? One serious pounding!!! (First few days/ weeks after the baby is born. Really the first month. ) Then months and months (6-8 months) of continual rain and rebuilding until that baby finally sleeps through the night and life starts to return to something closer to "normal". A new normal. But Ahh... The Joy!!! Not the hurricane, but the new life that storm brings with it!

My cute little nesting family

Alright. I am clearly nesting. (As exhibited by my previous post.) My usual, neat, but relatively laid back cleaning self (I pride myself on being a "happy medium".), has disappeared and been replaced by a girl my mom would be OH so Proud of! I was asleep for 4 months. Now I have awakened only to realize... I've only got like 3 months until I am too uncomfortable to move. AND.... ****We've got a little baby girl coming!!! **** YAHOO!!!!!! We've seriously gotta make some space, get things cleaned up, and ready. If I sound minutely obsessive... I am... just a tad.

During my adventures up into the cave of doom (the attic), in addition to locating and irradicating Dave's 8.5 year old shrine to the God of empty boxes, I located: our car seats, baby swing, crib, nursing pillow, bottles, infant head positioners, etc. (Dave informs me that the above stated shrine was to the GodESS of empty boxes.) Anyway, Now, of course, every one of them MUST be washed/ scrubbed until it is squeeky clean and smells like a new baby :). No old food crumbs or attic insulation dust for my little baby!!! I spent a couple of hours today scrubbing the car seat and carrier down. I have to admit... there is something absolutely soothing to my soul in the task. Preparing for our new little baby Girl!

But Heck! If "I" am nesting. I've got nothing on Dave. I had a 5 day weekend this week. Dave -asked- if I wanted to go out of town, but the reality is... HE didn't want to go Anywhere! I came home Wed night. He had a fan half way installed in B's room. Yesterday, He came home from work like 4 hours early... just didn't want to be away from his family. Today, he INSISTS that we go to Sams. We didn't need ANYthing from Sams, but left the place stocked up until the new year with tons of commodities. Then we head to Walmart--- a $200 bill-- stocking up on everything possible. I said, "Wow. Our whole family is nesting." Dave denies it, but this guy is NESTING. It's cute!!! Makes me smile.

And to be truthful, So is B. My typically oh-so-adventurous kid, suddenly doesn't want to leave the house! He'll tolerate and enjoy one family outing on Saturday, and of course church on Sunday, but other than that-he will do anything in his power to talk us out of leaving for my entire Thursday-Sunday weekend. He knows that life is changing, and just wants to be at home in his own nest. He moved Seven's car seat up into his room today and insists that we set the baby's crib up in his room. That kid is making space in his life for that little baby. We were all laying in our bed this morning. B made sure there was plenty of room... for Mama, Papa, B, and Baby Seven. She got her own pillow.

Girl

B: I knew that baby was a girl!

Crowd Wisdom

As you may know, this afternoon we find out Seven's gender. Crowds in large numbers tend to be right, even when dealing with topics in which they have no expertise. With that in mind, please use the sidebar to let us know how you think the ultrasound will turn out.

Update: Ok, the sidebar poll didn't work. Leave a comment instead :).

Update: Well, the crowd is right, she's a girl!

Nesting Pregnant Woman, Stage 1

So, April, What'd you do this morning?
Well, B slept in, that was nice. We made some Blues Clues signs and posted them throughout the house. (Pretty normal right.) 10:00. Still in my PJs. I looked up and saw the chandalier... old, crappy. Thought, "Hey, I have a better one up in the attic"..... NEVER send a 4.5 month pregnant woman up in the attic!!!

It's cloudy outside, so the temperature was actually reasonable up there. But that chandalier---- No where to be found up in that place. This place was so crammed, I could barely manage to stand at the top of the stairs. I saw ONE old, empty box from years ago..... HOLY CRAP, PRegnant woman turns NESTING Pregnant woman and goes Ape-shit on the attic! One box leads to like 100. I'm just throwing them out of the attic and down the staircase at lightning fast speeds. I gave B fair warning... It was gonna be raining boxes and it WAS! 10 min later, Ian came out of his refuge of safety (his room) and says, "I'm trapped mom. I can't get out of my room. " I look down, the entire stairway and the passage to the attic were 4 foot high with boxes. "Ahh Crap. Now, How do I get out of here?" (I took a picture--- you've gotta see it.) So I managed to throw a few overboard to make a small trail through the impenetrable fortress I had unknowingly created. I thought, "Wow. I can't breathe." (Apparently the insulation up in the attic was getting to my lungs.) "I need to get a drink." So I guzzle some lemonade, and realize that I've gotta get this stuff out to the curb.

So I start hauling this stuff out. That's right.... Still in my PJs. So I don't even bother to put on a bra. Crazy Ape-Shit Nesting Pregnant Girl is on a roll. Ian, still stranded at the top, has decided that his fortress of solitude is actually pretty cool. I get like 1/2 of the stuff out there and it starts to sprinkle. I thought, "Those trash guys are never gonna take this GInormous pile of Dave's unending desire for empty boxes if they are soaked" So I find the original plastic that our 8.5 year old queen sized bed came in and start loading these boxes in there. They wrapped it good, so there are 2 HUGE plastic bags.

I have them 3/4 of the way loaded (about 75 boxes) and it starts POURING. But Crazy, Now Ravenous-to-get-this-task-completed Nesting Pregnant Chica is incapable of taking a break! I just keep hauling them out. Well, suddenly, my stomach decided it didn't like the attic's insulation either... So Pregnant, Bra-less, PJ shrouded, soaking wet woman starts hurling in the bushes.

Then, if that weren't enough... my bladder decides to get in on the game. Apparently I didn't look pathetic enough! I was puking so hard, I peed my pants! And of course, stomach thinks this is funny, so it decides that 4-5 rounds of this thing was the best choice. By the time I was done hurling, the entire contents of my bladder had soaked my otherwise lovely self!

But who cares???? I only had a few boxes left!!! And it was raining, so who would know??? So warmly soaked, crazy, braless, nesting pregnant woman finished the job! I couldn't be prouder!

B's Job

B: I'm taking a vacation from my job.
Me: What job is that?
B: My job is to find money for my family.
Me: So, what's my job?
B: Your job is to make money for our family!

Morris' 81st Birthday

Morris' 81st Birthday

For Morris' birthday we went to our favorite little Mexican restaurant, La Casita.

Nose Hair

B (watching me shave): I don't have any hair on my nose.
Me: Do I have hair on my nose?
B: No. But you have hair in your nose.
Me: Yes, I do, but how did you know that?
B: I saw it once. But don't show me again. I already saw it.

School Play

School Play

Last night, B had his school play. I'd like to make a couple comments about his wiggles. First, it was after bedtime. He's always antsy at night. Secondly, believe it or not, this is a huge improvement over the Christmas play :). Speaking of wiggles, sorry about the shaky-cam. I really need to put a tripod in my vest.

Superman's Planet

B: Superman is from the planet Crouton.

Uterus

B: I have to pee in the uterus.
Me: That's not a uterus, it's a urinal.

Our little one

We love our OB. He is really wonderful! Probably our favorite thing about him is that he has the ultrasound equipment right in his office. And he USES it. So every 2-3 weeks we come back, get another ultrasound, and most literally can watch our baby grow in the womb. Our first visit, Seven was 1.8 mm (just a tiny embryo with a pulse that will later be a heart beat). The next visit, Seven was 17 mm (with a head and a spinal column, no limb buds yet).

So Thursday, we went in again, expecting to see limb buds added to our little embroyo. We were so surprised at how much he/she had developed. This 30mm (3cm) little one now had the neural tissue for a brain, a spine, a primitive heart, little arms, legs, feet, hands, umbilical cord, and even a functioning urinary system. Wow!!! There's a tiny baby in there! Wiggling his/ her little legs and arms and everything. Quite proud of the tiny one! And a momentary sigh of relief for us as parents.

Decisions, Decisions

So it cracks me up what percentage of my decisions these days are based SOLEY upon whether I think I will throw up. I'd say 25% of my thoughts are centered around avoiding hurling. Seriously, if I think I'm likely to hurl, I don't care how important it is- it's a deal breaker. It just ain't gonna happen. Of course, another 20% involves what and where I think I can acquire food that I can eat. Add to that the "mmm. What can I take off my plate so that I can get some rest?" (Another 15%), and there just isn't much left.

That's right---So basically folks, I'm walking around with less than half a brain. Like a hormone crazed teenager who's only thoughts are about boys (ya, I remember when I was that girl). Except now the survival instinct in play is how to keep myself and this baby alive (rather than how to get JoeBob to notice me). My life is monopolized by my hormones.

For the record, taking care of my amazingly kind husband and absolutely delightfully energetic little boy consume another 30%. With 10% left over for other family, work, church, housekeeping, and anything else that might normally be important to me.

So, If you are in that other 10% and I acknowledge your existance at all, it is an act of undeniable love. 'Cause this chica doesn't move from sleeping position for just anybody/ anything. Even a simple phone call...that requires me to acquire my phone when I'm not sleeping, too exhausted to move or talk, trying to acquire food, or too naucious to look the phone.

Superman

As many of you know, B loves all things John Williams. He seems to have recently rediscovered Superman. As lucky timing would have it, a very nice family with a boy about a year older than B gave him a bunch of old pajamas. Apparently the other boy loved Superman, because there were several Superman pajamas in the mix. B's had them for a while, but hasn't cared until now.

The world in which we live

We're at the Houston Zoo today. They have a little water play area. A little boy here just said, "It's a good thing I don't have any electronical devices!"

So what does B think?

People keep asking us, "Does B know? What does B think about all of this (pregnancy, baby, etc)?" The answer is... He is mindful and contemplatively absolutely excited! As excited as a 4 year old can be about something that won't happen until almost Christmas time. Let's face it--- Christmas is another 7 months away. That's another 12th of this kid's life. The equivalent of 4 years of my adult time. I can think about, look forward to, and be contemplative about something 4 years from now-- but I'll wait to start jumping up and down until we get closer. But I'd say, in relative terms...he's definitely more excited about his new sibling than about Christmas.

We are quite open with him. He is a wise and happy little boy. He knows that there is a baby growing in my belly, but that little baby is only 17 mm (as of last week) and still spends a lot of his/her time still up with Heavenly Father while his/her body is growing. He thinks it's pretty darn cool that I eat, and the baby has an umbilical cord, and that's how I feed the baby. He can describe the whole process with great excitement, detail, and ferver. We go to the doctor every 2-3 weeks and bring him back a new picture of baby Seven (the official name of the non-gender specific baby in the womb). He saw a picture of a pregnant woman the other day. He said, "Is your belly going to get big like this?" yep. Baby Seven is going to get bigger and bigger and my belly is going to get bigger and bigger to make room. I show him how big my belly will be before the baby will be born. We show him pictures of my belly when I was pregnant with him and how little he was after we had him.

We talk about newborns, what they do, (eat, sleep, and poop) and how they communicate.... crying. He thinks it's funny/cute that newborns cry when they are hungry, need a diaper change, want to be held, want to sleep, want anything. We talk about how Baby Seven will be really floppy when he/ she's first born and it will take a while for him/her to sit up or hold his head up- so we'll have to be careful and make sure we support his/her head. We figure, the more Ian understands about this new little person that will come to our home, the more he will feel comfortable and welcoming. He is really excited.

It's interesting to watch him. Dave talks with him about how I need more rest because my body is growing Baby Seven. B is actually really supportive. Now, he is 4. And I am is favorite playmate. But he's become quite understanding of my need to take naps or sit still and play with him, rather than run around the house. When Dave goes to work he tells B, " You take good care of your mom." It's not like B pampers me or anything, but I can tell he tries to do a few more things for himself, instead of expecting me to be at his beck and call. What a wonderful, sweet, kind little boy!!!

Simple

So I work M-W. I take a deep breath, decide to be brave in spite of absolute exhaustion, and head out the door. Walking in a half comatose state through the first 3 days of the week. It's like having the excrutiating exhaustion of the flu or mono, the nausea/ hurling of a stomach virus, amazing hunger that can't be satified by what my body will allow me to eat, plus this baseball in my abdomen (my uterus) pulling on all the tendons and ligaments until every one is in a dull, achy state constantly. Already making it uncomfortable to lay on my back. But, let's face it, there's nothing wrong with me. Just pregnant. So instead of staying home under a blanket until it gets better, I head out and trudge on through the life that I typically find quite fulfilling.

By the time Thursday comes, there's nothing left of me. I pretty much just lay here all day Thursday and Friday. Fortunately Dave and B are both aware and incredibly supportive. Sweet B really does try to let me sleep/ rest- content to play near me/ with me instead of making me run around the house. Quite selfless for a 4.5 year old.

I've gotta say... My life is certainly getting simpler fast. If it doesn't have to happen, it doesn't. If it's at all negotiable, it's gone. Life is about taking care of myself and loving my little family. All other responsilities have officially been streamlined.

I think this is how in the womb little ones make sure their mommy's lives are sufficiently simplified by the time they come along. It's a good thing.

Let's Talk about This!

I've been puny lately, so B's been allowed to watch a bit more TV than usual. Today he'd already watched chipmunks (so I could get a nap.) He requested to watch another. I told him, "Sorry son, I think you've watched too much TV today. Too much TV's not good for you." What ensued was a Class A meltdown. Straight from the books of myself as a little girl---- including the absolute determination to scream until his request was accomplished. When a simple explnation was unsucessful, I opted to remove the audience (myself) and went about my business of making dinner. Ian cried for quite some time in an attempt to get me to change my mind (almost never happens). A few min later, Ian walks in, Giant tears in his eyes and pleads resolutely, "MOM, WE Need To Talk About This!!!!!!!".

Cute kid. I was So proud of him! Good boy! Dave (super hero dad of the century) always teaches him that strategy, but I was genuinely impressed with his ability to calm himself down and apply it! Cute kid.

School Pictures

Sonograms take 2

Clickie for biggie

Hand Sanitizer

B has been sick so we're at the doctor's office. When we got to the exam room, April got some hand sanitizer for him. I suggested he also put it on the toy train he brought. He was a bit distraught because it didn't evaporate from the train like it does hands. A few minutes later, he pointed to the sign saying, "Do you see that picture? It just shows hands! It doesn't show toy trains. You should've read the sign and not put it on my train."

First Sonograms

Clickie for biggie

Seven

Seven

A special thanks to Jake Denison for the great animation!

The Fly

B's pants never fit. His waist is too thin. The problem is that when he wears a belt, he can't get the pants down to go to the toilet. So, today I explicitly taught him how to use his fly. He was VERY excited. He thinks the fly is the best invention in the world. Of course, all that will change tomorrow when the iPad gets here.

Ms. Cindy's Easter Egg Hunt

Here's my second trial, this time using Sorenson Media's Squeeze to encode the videos.

Unpacking Easter

Alright, this is mainly just to test out the video streaming, but here we are unpacking our Easter stuff.

Video

Usually

We are sitting at the table a few min ago. B says, "I usually get what I want." What a loaded statement! Dave and I just smiled.

What an abolutely positive, yet absolutely realistic statement. I USUALLY get what I want. Not always. (not a total brat). But I believe that the world will usually give me what I want out of life. (not I will trample over whoever to get it). But usually. Leaves lots of room for finding the best solution for everyone - including himself.

I hope and pray that he will maintain that general perspective into adulthood.. I know too many adults who feel stuck with whatever life hands them. This life is a wonderful place, there really is an infinite amount of amazing options in this world. I pray that he will have the courage to continue to believe, "I usually get what I want out of life" and Go Get it! Build an amazing life for yourself kiddo! (no matter what life throws at you. )

Padawan B

Yesterday the Imperial Death March came on (via my iPhone). It reminded B of his time at Disneyland. Here's what he had to say about it:

I was really, really scared of Darth Vader. I didn't know if I could defeat him, but I fought him and I defeated him.

Here's the video as a reminder:

D in the middle

B has figured out two-digit numbers. Yesterday we discovered that he could identify most integers between 1 and 99 without any help. Today we were quizzing him on a couple and he says, "There's a D in the middle. Six-D-Eight. Nine-D-Five." I thought it was pretty ingenious.

Chuck E Cheese

Today we went to Chuck E Cheese. I'm not sure where he heard about it, but he really wanted to go. We weren't up for something too physical, so this was a cheap way to get out of the house.

At one point, a girl came out with a guy in a Chuck E costume. She was saying, "Follow Chuck E if you want tickets!" She led all the kids around the room and then had everyone do a dance and sit down. Then she led all the little ones in a chant of "Chuck E! Chuck E!" and threw a bunch of tickets into the air.

Back at home, B grabbed a stack of books and said, "Follow me if you want books!" He then marched us around the room, told us to sit, and had us chant "Ian! Ian!" before throwing the books in the air. It was really very funny.

Cast Removal

Me: How do you feel?
B: Bad.
Me: Well, the worst is over, I think.
B: What's the worst part?
Me: I think having a broken arm and the doctor has to squeeze it onto place.
B: What else is the worst part?
Me: Having to wear a cast?
B: What else?
Me: I don't know, what do you think is the worst part?
B: The saw. But cutting it off (using scissors on the cotton) was good. And this (x-rays) is good. So, we had two bad and two good.