The Calm Between The Storms

Six weeks ago I had two items on my pre-baby To Do List. One: make Baby's Christmas Stocking. Two: Complete this years Christmas Shopping. The logic was simple - having a baby six weeks before Christmas would completely erase those next six weeks in terms of Getting Things Done. And, as you know, Getting Things Done before Christmas is quite a task. I figured the task was easy enough - take the stocking from looking like this:

to looking something like these:

My life was so much simpler back when I made Christopher's stocking. I knew it would be a project...didn't know HOW MUCH of a project I was looking at, though. My mom had made our Christmas stockings, and when I found kits similar to what she 'd done for us, I knew I had to do the same for our boys. Turns out that they're a liiiitle more intricate these days. And boy do they take a lot of time to complete! As life would have it, by the time I started working on it my little newborn was in a lovely pattern of being asleep by 9pm for three or four hours. At that point, I'd flip on that night's Hallmark Channel Christmas Movie and get to work. I got in nearly two hours of work each night, and yet the stocking STILL wasn't finished in time for Christmas. (It WAS, however, ready in time for New Year's which worked out quite well because that year we spent Christmas in Tahoe with my family and then had a big Second Christmas with Tim's family on New Year's Eve.) That last week was all I needed to get it finished and it was so lovely. And I was so proud that my boy would have this stocking every single year.

Life was a little different when Jake came along. He wasn't NEARLY as good of a sleeper, so my work time was really chopped up, but the fact that he was born in May meant that if I planned well, there was no excuse to not have it completed. Plus, by Jake's first Christmas, Chris was old enough to know what's up and I JUST KNOW he would have questioned why Jake didn't have a stocking for HoHo to fill. (Yes, HoHo. He still calls him that. EVERY SINGLE DAY BECAUSE HE LOVES HOHO SO VERY MUCH.) (Did I mention this takes place EVERY SINGLE DAY?) (GOOD.) This second time around, I thought it would be fun to keep track of how many hours it took for me to complete the stocking. Every night I logged my start and stop time, and friends? It took me thirty-six hours.

THIRTY SIX HOURS went into the making of that Christmas stocking. And, yes, I am just a little too proud of that.

That said, I knew that Nate's stocking was going to take a long time. I knew that there would be NO time between his birth and Christmas. I KNEW I need to start it at the beginning of October and work for at least ONE HOUR every night in order to get it done on time.

And then we went and bought a house - a process that absolutely destroyed every plan I had on my pre-baby agenda.

Don't get me wrong. I love the house. I WANTED to buy the house. I wanted to be IN the house before the baby arrived. Obviously, right? Wouldn't that make so much more sense than trying to move with a newborn? Of course it would! We'd been looking for a few months by the time we found this house, though, and as my due date was getting closer and closer I was beginning to accept the possibility and then the (I thought) reality that we would not be in a house before the baby came. I resigned myself to bringing Baby Nate home to our 3-bedroom town home (in which every room is occupied AND now that Tim works from home, no longer has a kitchen table as it has been converted to a work space) and I convinced myself that everything would work out just fine! After all, what does a baby need beyond a few jammies and a place to sleep, right? Right! OKAY, I had a few mild panic attacks, but beyond that, I was fine.

But then the price dropped on this house that I had already seen and written off because 1) it was way out of our price range and 2) I didn't like it. Don't get me wrong - it was fancy and lovely, but the floor plan wasn't my ideal and, let's face it, it's easy to "not like a house" that's too expensive for you to buy. BUT I DIGRESS. We walked through the house again (for me. For the first time for Tim.) Again I didn't like it. But Tim LOVED it. You can ask Shelby. She was there. I really didn't like it. I had Serious! Objections! And then my dear friend Shelby (who was SUPPOSED to be on my side) admitted that she liked it. And then my other friends presented easy solutions to my objections. And THEN Amy and the Blathering crew had this joke about First World Problems. And THEN I realized that maybe, just maybe, the fact that the (big! beautiful!) laundry room was not exactly where I would like it to be was not quite a valid reason to walk away from this house.

AND THEN!!!! My DAD talked me into it. My. Dad. This is a whole other post just waiting to be written.

From that point everything happened quickly and our situation changed from accepting that we wouldn't be out of our townhouse before baby was born to moving into a big, spacious home exactly one week before my scheduled c-section.

And then my head exploded.

Well, not quite. But that's how the past few days have felt. Like my head is ready to pop off...and my bellybutton too.

Suffice it to say, any plans I had to be ready for Christmas before my birthday even hit were erased from my psyche. Christmas stocking? What Christmas stocking? Shopping? Sorry! Mortgage! Getting ready for baby? Installing infant seat? Washing baby clothes? Finding bassinet attachment to pak-n-play? Fat chance!

I'm seriously losing more and more of my mind with every hour that passes. My body is getting ready to evict the baby, my brain is trying to keep everything straight, and my emotions are...well, rocky at best. But it's all good because all of this is a visible sign to me that God does answer our prayers. He does carry us through. He DOES give us blessings beyond our wildest imaginings. He did it last Thursday when we slept in our new home for the first time, and He'll be doing it again THIS Thursday when we hear that precious little squawk for the first time.

All of these blessings have been a challenge in many ways - not the least of which is the fact that we've been so busy and so scattered, that I feel like we haven't even had a moment to anticipate the baby. Yes, the physical preparations, but even more so the emotional excitement of what is to come. And yet, anticipated or not, he comes. And won't that be an exciting day?

My Parents Were Awesome.

Just found this website, courtesy of Testosterhome. I can't stop looking at the pictures. Nice to see that so many people recognize the lives that their parents had before they were so busy keeping little people alive. Go check it out!

Not Sure If This Is As Bad As The Time I Trapped A Moth Between My Ear And My Pillow Or Not...

Tonight, as I do every night, I snuggled up to a very wiggly Christopher while reading books and getting my nightly mammogram. It's our routine. It's what we do. And after several months of this, I've learned his sleepy pattern and can actually find it relaxing to my weary body. (Well, all except the mammogram part. I'll never get used to that.)

We read our book, talked about what we did today, gave Goodnight Kisses, said our prayers and told Jesus that we love him. Twice, due to the fact that there are two separate crucifixes hanging in his room. One receives a "Night night, Deedah," and then the other "I (love) You, Deedah!" I patiently waited out his squirming and wiggling, his demands that I sing quieter because "Shhh! Dadub Seeping!" and then that I "turn you up, mom" because he can't hear me, and our verrrry drawn out reading of Counting With Caillou.

As I watched him begin the process of fading into oblivion, I felt a little tickle on my chin. Naturally I figured it was a stray hair floating out of my disheveled 'do. That is, until I discovered the real cause of the tickle...out of the corner of my eye I saw it crawling down onto my sleeve. Why, yes. Yes, it was. A daddy long legs. CRAWLING ACROSS MY FACE.

Pleasant dreams.

Perhaps You Don't Always Have To Feel Guilty For Being Honest.

I've been thinking a lot lately. A. Lot. It's pretty much What I Do, considering the fact that every time I sit down it takes at least 30 minutes (really) for me to get back up, and maybe I should just sit here a little longer and daydream about this or stew about that. I've already resigned myself to the reality that, right now, my kids watch COPIOUS AMOUNTS of television and play Little Amadeus on the computer for a much longer time span than is reasonable because, really, I'M TIRED. I'm having a baby in 5 weeks (getting my delivery date on Thursday!), my husband is occupied with either working or getting healthy, and my three-year old doesn't take naps.

Oh yeah. And my house is a pit. A PIT, I TELL YOU.

So, while everyone else in the house is busy doing whatever I can find to occupy them which requires the least amount of effort from me, I think. I consider the mundane little things that I really don't care all that much about...because if I did I would have taken care of them by now and I wouldn't have to take care of them anymore...such as taking care of this blog and making it look somewhat presentable. Or, you know, CLEANING MY HOUSE. But there are other little bugs that have landed in my ears that I can't seem to get rid of. Items of note that happened to enter my brain at rather appropriate times that make me think, "Hey. Maybe I'm not so awful of a person for thinking about this...."

Recently, Shelby asked a question on Twitter that really got me thinking. She said something to the effect of "Trying to make lemons out of lemonade. Parents: what do you miss about your kid-free days that I should be ENJOYING right now."

That question couldn't have come at a more appropriate time. This summer has been a season of challenges for us in a variety of ways, particularly in terms of my learning how to take care of two needy children, a husband who is ill, and my own nauseous self all while growing a little person inside my belly. There were several weeks during which both boys wanted Mommy And Only Mommy, Jake wouldn't fall asleep unless he was bounced up and down ENDLESSLY (which, actually, worked out okay considering I had stopped Shredding once I found out I was pregnant. That kid is tougher than Jillian on her best day.) These were the times when, in the midst of it all and despite the fact that I know I love my kids and my husband and would NEVER trade them in for ANYTHING, I fell quite easily into the trap of lamenting the ease of my pre-children life.

And I felt so guilty for it.

The instant one of those thoughts crept into my head, I would BANISH it. I would lecture myself, "There are so many people who don't have NEARLY as many blessings as you. Grow up and be grateful." I would offer up my "sufferings" for those moms I knew who no longer had the blessing of gazing upon their sleeping child...for those mothers (and I know more of them than I wish I had to admit) whose sons had been taken from them, not as young children, but still far too early in life. Those women who would probably give their last breath for the ability to stay up all night with their crying baby. To bounce up and down in the hallway, stepping on stray legos in their bare feet, all in the Fat Chance Effort of getting that child to at least stop crying, let alone fall asleep.

These thoughts were helping me to keep everything in perspective. Somewhere in me, I realized that it's okay to "feel your feelings," and acceptable to get frustrated in the moment...who doesn't? And while I recognized that to be true, I suppose my bigger fear was that I would just turn into a constant whiner and complainer who was incapable of keeping ANYTHING in perspective.

Hard on yourself much?

So when Shelby asked that question, I really gave it some thought. I shared a couple of items with her, mostly in jest, of the things that I miss. The more I thought about it, there are a WIDE RANGE of life changes that occur once you introduce these little people into your life, funny and serious. Among them:

-- Being able to use both hands at the same time.

-- Actually being ALONE in the bathroom.

-- Not having someone SIT ON YOUR LAP while in the bathroom.

-- Using the facilities with the lights on.

-- Quiet.

-- Cooking dinner without constantly ensuring that someone doesn't fall off the counter.

-- Not worrying.

-- Sleep.

-- Running out for five minutes and it really only taking five minutes.

-- Hopping into the car, turning the key, and being on the road.

-- Looking in the rear view mirror to make sure you remembered to put the baby in the car.

-- Looking into the rear view mirror to make sure every one's alive.

-- Using a purse that's not filled with dripping juice cups and hotwheels.

-- Not feeling guilty over how you divide up your time between your kids.

-- Not feeling guilty over how you divide up your time between your extended family.

-- Talking to my husband.

-- Sleeping in.

-- Watching whatever I wanted on TV.

-- Taking NyQuil when sick and sleeping through an entire cold.

-- Showering every day.

-- Having a (relatively) clean house.

-- Doing 15-minute chores in under 45 minutes.

-- Going for coffee with friends WHENEVER I wanted.

-- Sleeping through the night without checking to make sure every one's breathing.

There's more, I suppose, but you get the point. Looking at this list, especially those things that just make parenthood FUNNY, I can see what is really lurking just behind: The things I DON'T MISS about my child-free days. Those are the things that usually prohibit me from saying the above out loud. The unfulfilled desires, the much longed-for dreams, the anxiety of "what if it will never happen," the negative pregnancy tests, the tears, the well-meaning yet always falling short sympathies of friends and family members, the empty arms, the feeling of a heart that's just lying in wait for the love of a child.

And I only had to wait for five months after we got married before I was pregnant with Christopher. Five months of, what I thought was, AGONY. When, really, I had no idea.

My words always fall short. I know there is nothing that I can say to ease the painfulness of the wait for my friends and family members who are in this Limbo. I know that, despite the fact that I've felt the feelings of anger, despair, anxiety, sadness.... feelings which I have known throughout my life and can empathize with to a certain extent, I cannot share the application of them in this situation, in these lives. What I can offer are my listening ears and, more importantly, my earnest prayers for these people who I love so dearly. And I trust that these prayers are heard, and answered, by a God who can see the suffering in the context of the Whole Plan rather than just the anxiety of the moment. A God who will see to it that these families are complete, in his own way. In his own time.

I Suppose It's Time I Jumped On The Bandwagon.

I'm not really one for "escaping." Never have been. Granted, I like to get away and do fun things. I enjoy an adventure, but it nearly always includes my boy band....or at the very least, their dad. This is where I feel the most comfortable, the most complete. Absent my time spent in the hospital delivering Jake, I have never spent even one night away from my boys, and I like it that way. I know that there are some moms who crave time away, some couples who manage to take time just for themselves. I also know that they feel that they return from this time rejuvenated and refreshed. Better parents for having been away for a while.

My "better self" shows up after a simple morning of cleaning my home without tripping over any little people who are lovingly tripling my work time. My rejuvenation comes from a couple hours at Starbucks sipping some overly sweetened coffee while chipping away at the family budget. I'm just not very high-needs in this department, which works well because my own little family also tends to work best when we're together as a team. That said, you can understand why neither one of us tends to escape all that often.

HOWEVER. This Saturday I took a teeny-weeny-beanie (vocab courtesy of Christopher) escape to Sacramento where I had the opportunity to finally meet some of the loveliest people with whom I've ever come in contact. I didn't know very many of them going in. Scratch that. I didn't KNOW any of them. There was a small handful of participants who I knew quite a bit about, however...

There was Emily: she who was the very first person aside from Tim to know that I was expecting baby #3 at a time when I was still trying to distinguish between my anxiety and my joy over the new addition to our family.

There was Maggie: she who, if she didn't live SO. FAR. AWAY. we'd be sitting next to at Mass on Sundays and not worrying if our kids were too squirmy or too loud and would totally understand exactly why it is that I couldn't tell you a word from that day's homily.

There was Liz: the one who, out of the blue, assured me of the ongoing prayers of her family for mine while I was in the midst of my own sort of mommy crisis and feeling like the weight of the world was on my shoulders. And all along, there was her family praying for me in a way that allowed me to keep those shoulders strong...without my even knowing it.

And there was Manda: that girl who made the funniest joke without even realizing it during a twitter-chat one night and, in so doing, managed to turn my WEEK around from exhausting and stressful to manageable. And even joyful.

Of course, there were all of these other super amazing women with whom I spent the afternoon sipping water from a sippy cup, chatting, laughing, and becoming FRIENDS with. As Holly said in her 13 Things post, "Do you know what's scary? Making friends as an adult." And yet, simple it was. Granted, my blood pressure went up about 50 points as I parked my car outside of Elizabeth's house. But that was fleeting. The day, itself, was delightful. EASY. And so wonderful that I wish I could spend every Saturday doing just that: having lunch and building friendships with these people who I had never met before.

Nearly all of the girls I met on Saturday have posted their own thoughts on the weekend, and have done so far more eloquently than I; however, it must be said...my teeny-weenie-beanie escape on Saturday changed me. I came home that night and started to tell Tim what we did, who I met, how it ended far too quickly. Do you know what happened as I started to explain all of these things to him? I started crying. We're not talking "misting" or "tearing up" here. When I say crying I really mean it. I mean, on the verge of Ugly Cry crying. Have To Take A Break From Talking Because You're Getting Too High Pitched crying.

Because it was such a lovely day. Because I finally was able to sit face to face with these friends who I have "known" for so long and can now put voices, expressions, and mannerisms to their stories. Because of how surreal it was to sit across from Emily while she talked to Asher on the phone. Because of how exciting it was to see Maggie running out of Elizabeth's house, arms outstretched for a big hug. Because Amy and I would totally be BFF's if we taught in the same school. Because Elizabeth's house is so charming and perfect and sweet and well-painted. Because Jennie and Kristie and Melissa are so open minded and so fun to just sit and talk to. Because I could talk to Amber about a museum exhibit and she, being local, could actually go check it out. Because I could sit next to someone like Whitney, find her completely delightful and and a joy to behold. Because Holly, who I got to see the least I think, works at my husband's old company. Small world. And because I actually got to see A'Dell's red hat in person.

Because.

Because now I can stop referring to "this mom on this blog that I read...." and just start stories with "My friend..."

What a tremendous blessing.

Because I Can Never Sit At A Computer Without Typing Way Too Much.

So...The Blathering is this weekend. FINALLY! A few items, for your consideration...

1. ...I am nervous to meet you all. There. I put it out there. Some of you I don't know at all, others have blogs that I've been reading for three years or so. I started reading the Mommy Blogs when I was at the end of my pregnancy with my oldest boy, Christopher. I SO ENJOYED reading your shared experiences and realizing that I was not alone in what I was going through. AND THEN I got my first email response after a comment I had posted and it was like getting an email from a celebrity. I know. I'm such a dork. But it's true. So, yeah. Little bit nervous. That is all.

2. ...I started my own blog at my husband's urging. He came up with the name (which really fits our family perfectly, by the way) and I enjoy writing on it. But, um....well, I just don't get to it that often. I should have known this would be the case. I love reading blogs, but making the time to write on my own is a struggle. It's the same for email. I love to receive emails, but writing them is often such a chore. And yet, I do realize that one must SEND an email to get a response worth reading. I'm working on that.

3. ...There are no pictures on the aforementioned blog. Well...I think there may be two from way back when Jake (baby #2) was born. It's a comfort thing. I do post photos on my facebook page and from time to time on Twitter, so if you want to see my boys you'll have to look there.

4. ...Speaking of the blog, no one I know personally knows about it. Well, Shelby does. And a couple of other college friends. And my husband, of course. But aside from that I've kept it a secret. (I suppose this explains the readership.) Anyway, while the photo thing is a "stranger" issue, this choice is a "family" issue. It all started when family members started joining facebook, which had previously been my own private outlet for communicating with my friends who all live so far away. Once the family signed on, I needed a new "me space." The blog, and now Twitter (SO MUCH EASIER THAN BLOGGING), fills that role. This explains the MASSIVE PANIC ATTACK I had recently when somehow facebook decided to take my twitter feed as status updates without my knowledge. I swear to you I almost died. There may have been crying involved.

5. ...I used to cry a lot more than I do now. Well, a lot more than I do at my current stage in life when I'm not pregnant. My eight-month pregnant self cries nearly every day. This third pregnancy has turned me into a hyper-sensitive basket case and it's driving me crazy. I'm counting the days until this baby comes just so that I can regain my sanity. Which, we all know certainly doesn't happen when the baby is born. It just gets worse. But at least I'll be on the road back to normalcy. Right? RIGHT?

6. ...Speaking of pregnancy #3, I am eight months pregnant. EIGHT MONTHS. This means that I am rather large. You won't miss me when I come waddling into Elizabeth's house on Saturday morning. I find pregnancy to be a challenge for many reasons, but one part of it for me is the total-body makeover that it provides. Let's just leave it at this: my nose is not normally this big.

7. ...I do better in small groups than in large ones, and better one-on-one than in small groups. I suppose that's because you're forced to make conversation when there are fewer people. The more people, the more comfortable I am sitting back, watching and listening. I imagine that will be even more the case on Saturday when I'm surrounded by people who are so much funnier and more outgoing than I am. The only exception to this rule comes when I'm in a large group over which I am allowed to hold court, whether that's by telling a story or giving direction. It's the teacher in me. While generally quiet and gentle in spirit, I like to be the Boss of Everyone and am quite comfortable in that role.

8. ...Before I was a mommy, I spent five years teaching religion in Catholic High Schools. Three years in San Diego and then two more up here in San Francisco. I loved teaching more than anything I have ever done, I suppose for two reasons: I am very passionate about my subject matter, and I ABSOLUTELY ADORED my Freshman and Sophomore audience. However, if I pass a group of teenagers on the street, my first reaction is to be annoyed by them. Double standard, I know. Three years out of the classroom, and I do not miss it at all....despite how much I loved it. Now I volunteer with our parish Youth Ministry, so I get my teaching & teen fix there, but I am perfectly content at home with my little people.

9. ...We are a very conservative and orthodox Catholic family. I love my Faith with a passion that I cannot describe. I enjoy talking about it, but shy away from debate. I certainly am never the one to start one up, although my husband will do so in a heartbeat. He LOVES debate for the sake of debate and he's good at it because, while he gets fired up, he never gets offended and it never gets in the way of relationships. While I enjoy the debate as well, I am never as good at defending / explaining my Faith to adults in general conversation as I am when I'm in a teaching role. I think it's a psychological thing. And here we have yet another situation in which I'm more comfortable sitting back and listening than jumping in.

10. ...Said husband is 12 years older than me. We were set up by some mutual family friends. Actually, it's a cute story. His childhood babysitter grew up next door to them in San Francisco. When she married, she and her husband moved to Tahoe where they became good friends with my parents for the last 25 years or so. One summer, five years ago, I went home and had a couple of opportunities to visit with them. Upon returning to San Diego, I had an email waiting from this friend telling me about a great guy she knew (Tim was the ring-bearer in their wedding)....and the rest is history. We dated long distance for that first school year, after which I moved up to San Francisco to be closer to him, after which he asked to me marry him. And that was nice. My students at the time were massively freaked out by the age difference, particularly because at that time the age difference between Tim and I was the exact age difference between me and my students. I suppose I would have found that gross in high school too.

11. ...In our four years of marriage, we have been truly blessed with our two (and soon to be three) little boys. Having three children so close in age brings a lot of comments and, while they don't bother me ALL THAT MUCH, my back does go up a little bit with the frequency of comments such as, "oh WOW! YOU have your hands full!" (Really? what gave you that impression? The fact that I carry my car keys around in my mouth?) Or, "Are you going to try again for a girl?" Perhaps the girl comments push me the furthest. I'm sure little girls are quite lovely, and I would have been thrilled to have had one. But I'm not embarrassed or ashamed to admit that ever since I started thinking about what my family would look like, I have wanted all boys. That has been the picture in my mind's eye. When we saw that extra little appendage on our ultrasound screen, Tim and I both cheered. I am absolutely THRILLED to be a boy mommy. I wouldn't have it any other way. That said, I have no problem admitting that shopping for baby girls is SO MUCH MORE FUN. Luckily, we have a lot of friends who have baby girls.

12. ...Oh! Another thing about the blog and the whole "family not knowing" thing. When I talk to my husband about whatever I've read on your blogs or whose kid spread poop all over the crib or whose baby started talking this week, I always use your first names. He knows you all as though you lived next door. HOWEVER, when talking to other people in my real life, I rarely reference anything about my bloggy relationships. I may say, "I heard about that on one of the blogs that I read" or something like that, but it stops there. Maybe I'm not giving the Real Lifers enough credit, but to be honest, I just don't think they'd understand. Same for this weekend. I've asked my sister-in-law to be available to help Tim out with the boys on Saturday because, "Shelby is coming up to visit and on Saturday a whole bunch of our girlfriends will be congregating in Sacramento for a visit." I left it at that. No one needs to know that I've never met any of you before. Too much 'splaining to do.

13. ...Shelby was my Maid of Honor in my wedding. And I in hers. Before that, we were roommates for three years in San Diego. Before that we were roommates at our small college in Eastern Ohio.

So there you go, friends! I'm so looking forward to meeting each of you. We'll only be there for Saturday and the duration of the visit will depend largely upon my ability to hoist my giant body around from place to place. But meeting you will be lovely and I can't wait! Travel safely!

Just Real Quick...

1. Today I watched Christopher climb all the way up that curved ladder thing on the playground without falling through to the ground.  It nearly gave me a heart attack, but he did it. I just couldn't believe it.  This comes as just another realization that my boy is growing up and getting stronger, more independent and more confident & capable with each passing SECOND.  I suppose that makes sense, considering my baby is going to be THREE next month. Wait - one month from TODAY? WHO ALLOWED THIS TO HAPPEN?!

2. While I was in the midst of my "my boy is growing up but wait I think he's going to fall through that ladder oh thank GOD he didn't" panic attack, I was lounging on the grass visiting with my nurse girlfriend and her painter husband.  I just love them. There are so many things to love about these people that I won't even begin to list, but mostly, I love that Tim and I are equally friends with both of them.  By that, I mean that while Husband Friend will usually call to talk to Tim, if I answer we can gab away for 10 or 15 minutes and then hang up and be satisfied and the same can happen in reverse. Do you know what I mean? The other day I was over at their house with the boys and Wife Friend had to leave to take the kids to get a haircut. When she left, although we were leaving too, in no way did I feel rushed to get out of there or uncomfortable being there just with Husband Friend.  Another perk? Wife Friend is a nurse. So, even though she is the most modest, private person I know, there is nothing you can't talk to her about. It is comforting to me to have her around; however, I'll admit that sometimes I actually get a little nervous because she'll refer to something as a big deal that perhaps I didn't realize was such a big deal - healthwise - and then I run home and google everything I can find to figure out if I should really be as scared as I am about whatever it is.  And let me just say, Googling things about your health is NEARLY ALWAYS A MISTAKE.

3. It turns out that Tim's new job has changed dramatically just in the month that he's been with the company.  Hopefully he'll continue to enjoy the job and thrive in the position, but I just feel bad for the guy.  Starting a new job is always an insecure time, but having things so up in the air just adds to that, you know?  I'm praying for his peace of mind during this time of transition. If you think of it, I'd be thrilled if you would do the same.

4. Today when we got home from our picnic at the playground, I put Jake down and then Chris and I sat on the couch and shared a bowl of ice cream.  This is not something that occurs very often, but I always enjoy it so much.  He's turning into such a big boy and it's so fun to just sit and share some quiet time with him, just the two of us.  Today he said to me, "Mom. People. Pop...you...girls...girls' mom..." When I asked him who these people were? Were these the people who love him? His response came, "yeah mom." Aw. That's right, buddy. And there are a lot more people on that list.  I did call my girlfriend immediately to let her know how highly she and her girls ranked, though.

5. Speaking of the things that my chatterbox says, don't you just wish that you could tape record every little thing that comes out of their mouths?  I think I've mentioned before, but Chris has started to refer to me and Tim by our first names.  If I do not respond by the second, "Mom!" then he switches immediately to "Annie!" Today while I was on the phone with my mom, I could hear a little voice saying, "Mom! Mom! Annie! Me tell you!" When I got off the phone I asked him what he needed to tell me. It was nothing important, but boy was it cute. Just like 90% of the things that he says. The other ten percent...you know, the whining, the dolphin calls, the "NO!" I can do without. But 90-10 ain't bad. OH! And have I mentioned that when I call him "Buddybuddy" he'll always respond by calling me "Mommybuddy." MELT.

6. I think that Jake is on the verge of walking.  He'll walk while holding onto your fingers and he can stand...well, for a little bit...by himself.  I remember that when Chris started walking so many people cautioned me, "Oh you're in for it now!" But you know what? I LOVED IT.  Life got so much easier once I could use both of my arms at the same time and I didn't have to bend down to pick up a little koala bear all the time.  All that to say, I CAN'T WAIT for Jake to start walking  CAN. NOT. WAIT.

7. Today when I left the house I actually found myself thinking, "maybe someone will break in while I'm gone. Then I can blame this mess on Those Terrible Burglars.  Between packing (a little preliminary, but the house hunt has begun so I'm getting a head start) not being able to keep up because there's no nap time anymore and my pregnant self is just too tired by the end of the day, and the fact that this place is just too small for us so there is always clutter and clutter always looks dirty, I am slowly losing my mind.  And then there's the matter of the carpet which, although new carpet has been approved, I REFUSE to do all of the work to get new carpet when we're just going to be moving in a couple of months anyway. I HOPE. Does anyone want to sell me a house?

More Quick Takes?