So.....

I had this baby...

She's cuddly and cute, squishy and oh so sweet. She weighed 9 lbs at birth and was 20.5 inches long. Her name is Abigail Elizabeth and we love her very much.

Nesting

Anyone who's ever had a baby knows what I mean when I say "nesting". And as I start the last day of my pregnancy with my last child (God willing) I feel like I need to do it ALL. Lots of preparations have been made. All my little socks are folded and all the tiny pajamas are ready to be puked on.....again. But the house feels unready. It isn't even 9:00 am yet and I've gotten S ready for school, stripped bedding and started washing, cleaned breakfast dishes, started the dishwasher, switched E's dresser to a hand me down that S was using (she got a brand new one) and will shortly put baby clothes in E's old one. There are other things I've puttered with I'm sure and have many more chores ahead of me today.

Wanna know a secret? I have no business doing all this because I feel like crap. I have a headache and I'm nauseous. My belly is killing my back and I should pack my bag and get ready for tomorrow and leave the housework for the people who are going to be destroying all my efforts over the weekend anyway. I still have to babysit this afternoon which on a good day wears me out. So yeah, I should be sitting with my feet up watching Barney with E but my nesting urges won't let me. I can't help it that I can sit down. My mind just won't let me.

I will sit down tonight. I will definitely sit down tomorrow and the rest of the weekend I'll be moving pretty darn slow. At least I'll be able to nap knowing that my house is clean for a bit and maybe it will still be half way clean when I get home. J is staying home next week and I will just delegate, delegate, delegate. It's all I should do since I have one week to recover before I'm knee deep in newborn/toddler hell.

Can you say Calgon?

P.S. Concerning those last belly pics to ensure my giant self is in fact, giant, will be posted...maybe tonight, maybe with A's announcement. But I'll show you.....just prepare yourself for amazement. Who knew someone as short as me could hammer out such HUGE babies. The jury is still out on A's size but I can tell you she ain't little. That is for damn sure.

When Hell freezes over.

That's what I thought 1 year ago when my wee toddler was a wee baby about the idea of having more children. Two was it for me and I was not prepared or willing to go through another pregnancy. I had shut the mind ovaries down.

Now if only my real ovaries had listened to the mind ones and my husband didn't need so much hot sex. But not really because now that I'm here. Now that I'm about the give birth to my third child I wouldn't take back the outcome for a million. Or even mega millions. Once they're part of you they're part of you and I feel connected to her in a very real and tangible way. I love her more than anything sans my other two babies and I've yet to lay my baby blues upon her own and touch her silky soft skin. Not too mention who wants to give up all that hot sex?

It's Tuesday. DID YOU HEAR ME? I said IT'S TUESDAY. And she's coming ON FRIDAY!!!! I am overjoyed at the thought of meeting Baby A and I'm scared to death at adding another child to my already busy day. But she's worth it and E will adjust or run away and S will fall in love, even more so with this baby girl but not more than if that makes any sense. She's just that much older now. You know, that touch of time that brings them from child to girl. She's my girl now. My loving, nurturing, protective young lady who will be more help that I could have thought possible. Which is great because for a little while I'm going to need her. Like put her on some sort of pay roll kind of need her.

Well I know this is a rather abrupt cut off and I really would like to stay and chat with ya'll but I have some sleeping to do. E was up for three hours last night and guess who joined her? Yeah....I'm so ready for this baby because basically I haven't slept much in two years anyway. Might as well make it another two. Then I'm sleeping for a decade. And J will just have to deal.

FRIDAY!!!!

It's official.

Single digits, bitches. Single digits.

Now what do I do?

I know, I know....

Only two weeks and a couple of days to go until I will no longer be pregnant. Not just not pregnant but never pregnant again.
It seems so close but I gotta be honest, as easy as this pregnancy has seemed to me...it's still pregnant and I still look like a gigantic sumo wrestler and am peeing every 15 minutes. I am tired of my inflated state and I'm ready to meet my new baby. My butt is large and my cankles are getting tired. Someone please put me to bed and wake me on the 16th. K?

Let the countdown BEGIN BITCHES!!

In 24 days I will deliver via c-section baby girl #3. Make that 23.5 days.

That is less that four weeks away.

It has been confirmed that said baby will be a Taurus, which I am very happy about considering the little spit fire I was last blessed with. Phew, mucho reliefo.

We have also nearly completed all those dreaded renovations I was anticipating and will have a couple weeks left to get our room baby ready. I have a little shopping, a little washing, a little freaking out and a little eating left to do and I'll be a mother of THREE!!!

I'm pretty excited for this to be over. The weeks always seem to slowly creep by but the end result gets here so fast you hardly had time to get used to the idea of another kid. Especially after you've already had one or two. I've been so wrapped up in E's tiny little world that I've hardly had time to mentally prepare for Baby A's grand entrance. Of course I've fantasized and thought longingly about meeting her for the first time and feeling that surge of love burst through every part of me, but to truly grasp the reality of life that is about to change my own as I know it can only come with a severed umbilical cord.

I can hardly wait to meet you, little girl. I'm sure you'll take my breath away just like your two older sisters. I hope I have enough of me to go around but I'm not going to worry. You will feel more love than you could imagine and all will be right with the world when you get here.

See you in 24...excuse me, 23.5 days. WOOT!!!!

Frustrations of another kind

As you know, my mother is battling throat cancer. It's been a long, arduous battle with little to no real break or remission. What a scary scenario you're faced with as you age, the prospect of death and what it means to those you leave behind as well as yourself.

What they say is true. There really are no guarantees in life and everything comes with a price. The years she spent fighting the scale and the pills she took to help her along, the drinking, the all weekend long partying, the smoking. The smoking. When you look at her habits in her 20's, 30's and some of her 40's one has to wonder what took so long for her to fall ill. And yet someone else who lives exactly the same lifestyle would continue doing so well into their adult lives and never suffer as much as a persistent cough. Funny how it all works. The goose is picked and the chase to freedom begins.

She's enduring another round of radiation this month. This will be her 2nd time. A different kind of treatment, a more advanced and current method that helps save other "healthy" parts of her from being damaged without need. This is after she had a permanent hole cut in her throat, her voice box yanked and a two month stay in the hospital. And we're not even counting the surgeries prior to these. She's barely had time to fully recover and yet another attack has been planned. The prognosis looks good since this radiation is "precautionary". Whatever that means. One has to wonder, though, with all the times we've heard "this ought to cover it", if this will really be the last jaunt up victory mountain. Will it be a battle won or has she suffered all this for naught?

She doesn't sound the same, she doesn't look the same and her life will undoubtedly never be the same. Will my children be afraid of her? I'm scared at the thought of the rejections from them because we aren't close enough and they have never been around her enough to know her and build a bond except for S. I would hate to see the look on her face if that happens.

I hate what has happened to her. It isn't fair for us to lose our father at such a young age and now be faced with our mother's mortality as well. I feel like I've been waiting for the wrong mother to die. Just as I come to a place of peace with the end of my grandmother's life (I see her as my mother since she raised me from infancy) I am now living with the fear that my birth mother will be gone as well.

It sounds funny to say "waiting" for your mother to die and I certainly haven't been watching the years go by while the haunting thought plagued my mind. It is just that the mother that raised me was always old and feeble in my mind. She was always in pain with rheumatoid arthritis and just seemed closer to death most of my life than the mothers of my peers. I'm not looking for my birth mother to give up and fade away all that quickly either but one can't help but feel the last straw could be right around the corner. You just can't be too sure or too confident when it comes to cancer. It has fooled many people and ripped the carpet out from underneath the healthiest and youngest alike.

So we wait for her to recover and gain some sort of life back. I sit and listen to her husband's bleeding heart because of the hardships the cancer has caused and it is frustrating because I want so badly to take it away, to push rewind and give her a different deck of cards. Nothing I can say or do takes away the depression that envelopes you as you go through such a life changing event. I have no way of relating on a real level and I can't pull either one of them out of the trenches to safer ground.

I try to stay positive and hope for renewal in their lives. I pray for a flood to come and wash away the last 4 years of their trials and let the sun shine on their faces once again without worry. I pray that my babies know their grandma and aren't frightened by the way she sounds. I pray that we all get more time with our mother, but most of all I pray that she gets more time feeling happy. It has been far too long.

Because you can never be too careful...

I mean, it can be dangerous up here by the window.


The ledge is barely large enough for my own bum.


And the books!! Don't even get me started.

Harder than I thought.

This pregnancy thing with a one year old? I had forgotten how much work small children were. I am constantly drained and in pain from head to toe. I'm having my doubts about the next 7 weeks. I am not sure how I'm going to manage serious pregoness along with hell on robeez.

A big problem I'm having is the baby gate dilemma. I can no longer hurdle these anymore, not really. And I don't have the energy to chase away tiny fingers from the water cooler and doggie food. The food I have since moved but the water is a larger obstacle that I can't really remedy. She will either learn or I will die.

Another problem is the constant work surrounding a house with 4 people, a dog, a cat, and two children who come here 5 days a week for child care. The clutter is never ending. The laundry piles are growing faster than I can wash them. The floors are a constant battle. I know that is every mother's problem and I'm certainly not alone, but DAMN!! I'm tired of dealing with the dirt, the hair, the wood debris from the stove, the spilled juice, the play dough, the crackers, the half eaten baby carrots or what ever else, the dust, the tooth paste in the sink, the dirty tubs and messy rooms. I wanna sit down and bawl some days because I simply can not function in the way this family needs me to right now. My ambition, my energy just aren't at their normal mommy levels. Basic hygiene (on my own part) is neglected because that means I won't get a nap while E is asleep. But I need to take a shower at least twice a week, right?

My hormones are going CARAAAAZY!! I'm in that phase of the pregnancy where everything is a HUGE deal and I can't deal with anything not going according to plan. Chaos sends me over the edge and that is everywhere I look. I am in the thick of dealing with an unruly toddler/baby that won't talk and would rather be set on fire than listen to her mother. I'm convinced I'm incapable of teaching her to obey or sleep.

I know I'll make it through to the end. Is there any other choice? Am I the first person to have a difficult one year old while pregnant? Of course not. I will make it one day at a time, sometimes one nap and sometimes one minute. It just seems, at times, that I'm about to overflow with frustration and collapse in a pile of mush onto the living room carpet.

Hmmm...can't sleep.

I have a lot on my mind I guess. Seems like there is so much to do and a whole lot of hurry up and wait. It can be so difficult to sit back and live each moment as it comes at times. There isn't any one particular thing on my mind per say, just a jumble of the future.

The baby.

The move.

The job.

E growing up too fast.

S getting through her awkward years.

How the hell I'm going to pass that level of Super Mario 2 on S's game boy.

What to make for dinner tomorrow.

Where is this Easter Bunny guy and why isn't he hiding the eggs for me?

You know, all the important things one thinks about when they should be SLEEPING!!

It's anybody's guess what position the pillows need to be in for me to fall fast asleep comfortably. I've also had to pee twice in the past half hour and that doesn't help. Baby A is awake (which isn't normal for her) and we're playing tag. Or she may have a case of hiccups and I have imagined that she is playing with me. Not sure.

Oh...I saw the cutest darned puppy at the mall today. She was one of the Prince Charles Spaniels or whatever the hell you call them. Anyway, she was the cutest little thing and we made best friends quite swiftly through her glass window. I named her Princess. She's not happy they are keeping her from me. I thought you would want to know about that.

Thursday was a tough day. First thing in the morning we had a minor accident in our home with E and a travel mug of coffee. It wasn't mine. I don't travel. But it doesn't matter who's it was, what mattered was that she somehow managed to get her grubby little hands on it in the 4 seconds we weren't in the room with her and she spilled it on her shoulder. I have prayed and thanked God many times since then that it was a travel mug and it had a cover. Otherwise that could have turned out to be a lot worse than what it was. Turned out to be 4 tiny little burns on her left shoulder with blisters and everything. Talk about scary. Walking around a corner and seeing coffee everywhere and your child pulling at her clothes and screaming bloody murder. Needless to say I freaked. J stayed home from work that day and went to the pediatrician's office with me to be sure that she wasn't burned more severely than we had thought. She's fine. Her burns are healing so fast and I'm so happy that she is okay.

I have to add that in the heat of the moment I never once placed blame upon anyone. I am very proud of myself for that because even though I know that I know that I know it wasn't intentional or something that happened due to carelessness I wanted to yell. Loudly. And I didn't.

The rest of the week has gone rather smoothly. I'm moving a little slower and those damned baby gates are winning the battle but I'm hanging in there. This time around doesn't seem as tough but I still have the toughest two months ahead of me. Remind me again what happened? I look at my growing belly in disbelief sometimes and can't quite grasp three kids much less three girls. But whatever will be will be I guess. I'm in it for the long haul with that snoring jerk face that is sleeping in my bed so I guess three girls it is.

You get what you get.

I was trying to write something today. Instead I'm just going to post this.


.....because we could all benefit from babies and braids. Right?

Looking for a little change.

Can't control much around here right now and I've been feeling a bit bored. But there is something I can mess with for fun, hence the different look. Nothing exciting, nothing coded by my own hand, no fancy pictures and such, but it's different and I like different.

Something about everything having to run its course that makes me feel aggravated. Winter will be over when it's ready. Baby will come when it's time. Grad school will be over when it's over, no sooner, no later than the amount of time we're just supposed to wait.

Grrrr.....

Anyway...wanna see a cute picture?

I do.

Testing one, two, three.

Testing one, two.

That's what I'm calling it because I am not ready to label her my bad seed. I know, everyone has that child that tests all boundaries laid out for them and rips all confidence you ever could have in parenting to shreds. But I was optimistic that I was just that good of a mother that my children understood from day one such behavior was unacceptable at mommy's house.

I was one of those mothers yesterday. You know, the kind you either look at with empathy or disgust because she isn't doing one of two things you think she should do; handle her kid or get the hell out of their face. E threw a ripe tantrum in the mall yesterday and was utterly out of control. Me being seven months pregnant had not the energy or the emotional where with all to do much of anything except wait it out and ignore her raunchiness the best that I could.

She is cutting molars and the only word I can think of to describe her is cantankerous. Okay...so there are other words but I'm trying to be...well I don't know what I'm trying to be. She is just horrible to be around right now, not all day but a lot of the day and I've had it up to HERE with her mood swings. I try to be caring and nurture her into comfort but there isn't a consoling trick in the book that is working for her. And I'm about to lose it trying.

I read that toddlers throw tantrums because they love you. And you should be thankful that they allow themselves to be in such a vulnerable position and show such trust that they can act like demons seeping out from the fiery depths of hell in your presence.

Right.

Because they looooove you.

I'm not buying it. But what the hell ever. All I can say is if it gets worse from here, how am I supposed to manage it? Is she going to break me in slowly for the real crap that begins when they're three? Or am I getting the worst version right off the bat so I don't worry that she's going from bad to motherfuckingevil?

I don't even know what to guess anymore with her. One thing is for sure, this is going to be a bumpy ride. Eventful and I'm sure exciting at times, but bumpy none the less.

And another thing!

Why does my child poop in the tub? It isn't the occasional oops with this child either. Minimum, two maybe three times per week.

PER WEEK!!

I'm at my wits end with her on so many levels yet hopelessly in love at the same time. She challenges me every single day but still draws me in for more with that delicious little dimple on her left cheek.

And that toothy grin.

How do we discipline these beautiful little devils for squeezing lotion all over our bathroom floors when they're looking at you with the biggest smile on their tiny face and their hands in the air as if they had no idea how that lotion just got there.

"I just walked in here Mom, and poof - lotion was EVERYWHERE!! Not sure how that happened."

Hmm...me neither.

To say she is an intense baby is an understatement. She is nasty, loving, happy, mad, devious and wonderful all at once. She will hit you one moment and kiss your boo boo the next. She is dancing to Elmo's catchy tunes at 8:00 and throwing herself on the floor because the dog ate her toast that she offered to her at 8:02.

In the words of my oldest "that's good quality television right there".

And she still isn't sleeping through the night. At least not consistently. Her teeth are bothering her, her ears hurt, her diaper is too wet, she needs a hug, where's my bink (I know...she's going to be 30 and still toting that thing) are just a few of the many things that I have to choose from every single night. I say choose because she refuses to say a word. The kid could climb a mountain but is talking very little. I chalk it up to the fact that....eeeeeekkkk!! aaaaaahhh!!! and wwwwwwweeeeeeaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!! seem to be working just fine for her right now thank-you very much.

This is just a piece of the pie I'm chewing right now. I'm a busy woman. A busy woman toting a big old belly and juggling the very best she can. I am pooped most of the time but managing to get to the quiet part of my day every evening where J and I sit on the couch and watch mindless television while he rubs whatever part of me is the puffiest. I will make it to May and my energy will get better. After that my only option is to live in the now and hope that the next two years are gentle on me.

In the meantime....I guess I'll just keep counting my blessings. Even if the blessing keeps crapping in the tub.

All things come to an end.

One thing for sure is this pregnancy will. And I am in my nesting phase. Not that I have any energy to nest around here with a one year old terrorist hot on my heels, but my mind is nesting. We have MUCH to do before the baby arrives in May. MUCH!!

There are three bedrooms in this house and they are all currently in use. I have no choice but to impose upon the people responsible for this new family member and I'm pretty sure that the bar down the road isn't going to take any responsibility and put her up there, so we're forced to put her into the other guilty party's room. Our love shack is going to be converted into a nursery that mom and dad get to sleep in. And to be honest I'm not so sure with two under two there will be a lot of love shacking going on for a while anybleepingway, so what does it even matter?

In order for this to happen we have to do some remodeling/painting/revamping and my favorite ....SHOPPING! We have three windows to replace, a bathroom to remodel, paint, trim, new doors and some furniture to purchase. All this will have to happen in early spring since neither February or early March brings out the balmy weather. So basically the last 6 weekends of my pregnancy.

For those of you who have done this growing a human thing, you know the last six weeks of your pregnancy are spent mostly sleeping, waddling, barking orders and bitching. Not a whole lot of time in there for those pesky remodeling chores. And that leaves it all to my husband, well mostly, I'll cover the bossing around and bitching part. I don't want him talking shit about how he's doing it ALL himself.

The sucky part of having all this work is that my husband normally ends up dissecting god damn mouse embryos, washing his "cells" or concocting some strange DNA mixture every Saturday and Sunday morning. I understand this allows one of his many "oh damn, I need one of these tools" at Home Depot, but still. It shrinks our already thin time slot by a few hours every weekend AND I don't have the energy to follow him in there to do all the bitching needed to get him out of work and Hope Depot in a timely manner which only increases the possible time lost geeking it up at work or praying to the chain saws at the tool store. I'm not sure about any of you, but a windowless bedroom on a chilly April evening is not my idea of fun and certainly will not promote the 15 or so half hour naps I'll be able to take in between pee breaks at night.

So like every pregnant lady I feel hurried during those last few months because there always seems to be mountainous piles of crap to do and you're too busy putting your swollen feet up to do much about it other than think. Then again, having so many things on your to-do list does make the time pass a little faster. Which poses other problems. I'm not sure if I want time passing any faster except only to get my body back. But the work involved in getting that back (and I'm not talking about exercise either) will be daunting. Clingy one year olds and a nursing infant along side a pre-tween feeling a little left out and needing reassurance is going to kick my ass. Plain and simple.

Tell me again how I got myself into this? Oh, right. Dive bar down the road, cheesy seductive lighting in our living room (or maybe it was just the street light outside?) and..uh...ahem, you know.

You and Me

It was 10 years ago that I promised him forever. I can't imagine where all the time has gone.

Romantic dinners together with not a word said between us.

Laughing over stupid television shows.

Getting to know each other as husband and wife and still learning new things today because people grow and change and there is always something new to discover about the other.

Enjoying each other's company while doing things we both love. Hiking, swimming, taking walks by the water.

Making babies ;D

Having babies and nurturing them together, making mistakes and learning along the way.

Moving 7 times.

Fighting.

Making up ;D

Cuddling by a fire and sharing a 6 pack.

Learning to love someone who is nothing like you yet mysteriously the same. Two different worlds, two different hard drives intertwining to make one.

Have I mentioned fighting yet? Because although we love each other deeply we didn't get here on a cloud surrounded in butterflies and cotton candy.

It has been a long and exciting journey together and I'm challenged to be a better person everyday because of him. And he is too. We bring out the best in the other. And the worst. We take the good with the bad, the richer for the poorer, the sickness and the health. We mush it all together and call it our life, our home, our family.

We are...

dedicated,

emotionally invested,

inseparable by choice,

in it to win it so to speak.

Forever.

Always.

Till death do us part.

Un-pleasantly Plump and Pregnant

Things are a bit bumpier at the moment. Near back to back pregnancies have done nothing for my figure. I can't pass a mirror naked without shuddering with disgust.

Those women who gain 8 lbs throughout pregnancy and only in their belly?

I hate them.

I'm can't even think about what my c-section scar is going to look like with its third layer of scar tissue.

My one saving grace is that this baby? Yeah, my last. I will never make a penis and I'm okay with that. After I'm done breast feeding I can attempt getting back into shape and won't be side swiped with yet another pregnancy.

How do I know this? My husband is having me spayed.

And I'm having him neutered. Just like Bob told me to.

I didn't get a sticker.

So I thought I would just let ya'll know.


I VOTED!!!

I don't think you're ready for this belly.

Or maybe you are.


Come closer.....


Satisfied?

By the way!

I'm so over the 500 baby gates I have strategically placed throughout the house to keep the invader at bay. As the belly (photo not yet available) grows larger and larger I'm having a harder time maneuvering these bastards.

For example, the other day I fell right over when I caught my foot on an unsuspecting trash can that remains in the barricaded area because of babies that, like raccoons, will open that sucker when you're not looking and pull out whatever is on the top. If that is a pile of rotten cabbage just discarded from my neglected refrigerator, then so be it. She is not a prejudiced trash picker.
And lately, I'm almost positive she would jump clear to the bottom of it if she thought she'd find herself a bottle to suckle.

Anyway, I thought you should know.