The Decisions that Mothers Must Make

I must have this.

Tonight!

How fortuitous that I have all the ingredients.

...

I know, I know, two posts in a day! What has happened?!

Well, what has happened is that I've cooped myself up in my house for way too long and am dying for some conversation. Since there is no conversation readily available (do I sound lame or what?) I figured I'll send my musings out to the internet world.

Okay, so it is 4:50 and just 15 minutes ago I put Jack down for a nap. Gah!

What was I thinking?!

I was thinking that if it is 4:00 (my internal debate started at 4:00, I didn't make a decision until 4:30) and Jack is rubbing his eyes and lying prostrate on the couch, the next four hours are going to be rough. I've been very emotional the last few days, and if I let him stay up, I don't have a store of grace or patience or joy big enough for us to both make it until bedtime unscathed.

I was also thinking that he went to bed very late last night and woke up very early this morning, with only a regular nap to nowhere-near-compensate for the four hours he missed of his regular snooze routine.

Finally, I was thinking that if he took a tiny sleep I could squeeze in a catnap too. Then I changed my mind and thought that if he slept for a half hour I could pick up my house a little bit and do some of the dinner prep so that the final hours of the day fly by without incident.

So, my sweet boy is quiet in his crib, and instead of resting or cleaning, I am drooling over caramel pudding.

So now, to put away my typing, fly through my tidy up and ignore dinner prep in favor of making putting (what the heck?! I just read this - four weeks after posting it - and I wrote "putting" when I meant "pudding" why didn't anyone say anything?!) and letting it set before I get Jack up...

Ready, set... and she's off!

What I Daydream About

Ever wonder what I daydream about?

Probably not.

But in case you do, let me tell you.

Better yet, let me show you:

A stomach like this

And a bottom like this

And moving like this

I went over to my sweet mum's house yesterday and she had the Athleta catalogue on her table. I picked it up and was immediately in love. And in envy of every bum photographed.

I feel like a five year old, thumbing through the pages over and over, composing a mental shopping list.

I find it weird that I've sort of glazed over the fact that in two months or so I will be in labor with our second child. And after that, I will be nursing and not sleeping much and chasing a two-year old.

Somehow I've skipped ahead to six weeks after Joey's arrival to that magical time when my doctor will give me a thumbs up and release me back to the gym.

How is it that I'm so tired now, so worn-out feeling and so, let's be honest, pathetic, but what sounds the greatest to me is a really sweaty work out? I wish I could bottle the craving for when the time comes and use it to motivate me to actually get back in shape.

Since I know that my memory is pitiful as a pregnant woman and as a new mama, you'll have to remind me of this blog post. I'm thinking about cutting out pictures from that catalogue to keep me ambitious. But then again, it could just make me depressed.

I'll have to see. Maybe I'll just tuck the whole catalogue into my dresser to be pulled out at an appropriate time.

Whatever I do when the time actually comes, you can be before that I will have ogled the catalogue at least once a day for the next week or so. Ahhh... sports bras, yoga pants, tennis shoes... I'll see you soon!

30 Weeks

You may have noticed that I have been a bit sporadic in my blogging the last few months. Being pregnant with a toddler is tough work!

I find myself either totally dragging and fearing the addition of another little baby to our family or completely energized and eager to take on every task that comes with being a wife and mom.

Unfortunately blogging is neither a mom or a wife task so it has fallen by the wayside.

But there is good news for you... I am now 30 weeks pregnant!

Gah!

That is 30 out of 40. Just a short 10 weeks to go!

Once the baby actually arrives I can go about the business of collecting myself and figuring out what to do with a house of three men. I am quite sure that I will find it nowhere near as daunting as I keep thinking it will be.

Anyway, 30 weeks.

Yesterday I looked at my calendar and realized how close I am to the end of being pregnant. Somehow, having that nice round number in my head made me feel so secure. Instead of feeling like a giant balloon, or like I had let my pregnancy weight gain spiral out of control, I felt totally reasonable and like I looked just right for being 30 weeks pregnant.

To celebrate a day of not feeling disgusted with my shape I dressed up cute for church. I recently acquired a pair of brown, suede, slouchy boots and a pair of maternity leggings (the best $20 I've spent this pregnancy... they are SO COMFORTABLE!). I donned them last night with a sweet little dress and looked every bit the part of a maternity magazine model.

At least I thought I did.

Andy hates the boots and legging look (which I knew when I purchased them and was not expecting fireworks from him when I put them on) and told me that I looked like Robin Hood.

I told him that he would have to deal with it and that I would probably wear them every day for the next two and a half months, so there.

He laughed at me and said that he was quite sure every woman I encountered would probably tell me how cute I looked in them and the he knew he was the minority opinion, but he still thought it looked like a Robin Hood costume.

Then to make up for the teasing he told me my hair looked really great.

Which it did.

Regardless of his opinion of the latest trend, I still felt awfully cute as we headed out the door and prepared to parade myself around all of our friends.

Which I did, with great gusto.

Until...

Until I was talking to a grandma and she was making friendly conversation which included the, "When are you due?" question. I felt so smug to be able to say, "Oh, I'm about 30 weeks." And I tossed my hair to imply, "And don't I look just stunning?!"

Except she didn't catch the hair toss and replied, "Hmm..."

I don't like where this is going...

"You're kind of big for 30 weeks aren't you?"

And the tumbleweeds roll.

And my balloon bursts.

And I plaster a smile on my face and brush it off.

And make a quick exit from the conversation to find someone who can appreciate that even if I am HUGE, at least I still have fashion sense.

I hope.

Can I please pass on a word of advice? If you are talking to a pregnant woman, don't make any comment about her size except that she looks great. That is it. We all know we are getting bigger by the minute, but we can't do much about it now can we?

So.

No. Matter. What.

Don't tell a pregnant woman she is big.

Ever.

Ever.

Ever.

Stocking Lunch

Growing up, one of the most anticipated traditions of Christmas was the stocking. My parents made such an event of the little gift appetizer.

My dad would come up with elaborate ways to hide the stocking. Each Christmas we had a list of rules we had to follow and clues to lead us to the hidden treasure. The whole lead up was thrilling, but the stockings, oh the stockings! My mom was a master of cramming as much good stuff as she could into the foot-shaped sacks.

I think we did the treasure hunt until I was about 22 (my dad does it now for Ellery). When we gave up the hunt, neither Liz or I could quite bear the idea of giving up our mom's amazing stockings.

Side Note:

When Andy and I got married

I think he was REALLY intimidated

by my mom's stocking.

We've had to make new rules for

stockings in our house.

As adoring and clever as Andy is,

I just don't think a boy can

stuff a stocking the same way

a girl, especially a mom, can.

The solution we came to was what we call our Stocking Lunch. We put an afternoon date on the calendar and meet to exchange stockings. My mom makes one for Lizzie and one for me, and Liz and I work together to fill up a stocking for my mom.

To this day we have never achieved as awesome of a presentation as she gives us every year, but we keep trying!

Today was our Stocking Lunch. Oh how I love being with my mom and sister!

Lunch was yummy and our stockings were lavish and we laughed a lot. There is something wonderful about sitting in public, digging through one of the icons of Christmas that is usually reserved for children and surrounding yourself with heaps of festive wrapping paper (my mom wraps each individual item that goes into the stocking).

We all ordered the same thing for lunch so when the check came we asked the waitress to split it an even three ways. It was then that, gasp! I realized that my mom and sister had ordered sodas and I only had water.

Oh the injustice!

Not like it was a big deal at all, but we decided that they would put the tip on their cards and everything would even out. Which it did.

But after all of our stocking jollity I think we were a little rummy. I started babbling on about how I had to leave my tip line blank and I didn't want the waitress to think I was cheap or mean. Then I rambled about leaving a note to explain the arrangement we made at our table:

"Dear Waitress, your service was excellent. I'm sure you noticed I didn't leave a tip, but it is because I didn't order soda and my dining companions did, so my tip is included on their tab. Thanks for the great meal!"

We were all laughing at the ridiculousness of it and then my mom and Liz ganged up on me and kept saying, "Do it!"

And you know what...

I did.

I put an asterisk on the tip line that lead her to the back of the receipt and to my explanation. Regardless of the fact that I feel really silly and totally suckered by my mom and sister, I'm finding solace in the fact that the waitress probably had a really great story to tell when she went home.

That's what I'm about. Making other people's day.

Thanks for another amazing stocking mom!

Jack Attack III

Jack has been especially charming as of late.

It is easy to adore him when his skin is so soft and his smile is so big and his dimples are so deep...

But it is even more fun to adore him when he says cute things, initiates wrestling matches and softly touches my face and says, "mama!"

It's been a while since I've updated you on this awesome little man, and I figured you were probably dying to know all about what he's doing now!

• He sings along with his favorite show's theme song. His favorite line being "come in." That is how he tells me he wants to watch that show, he says, "me min?" And I melt and say okay.
• When he sees something unfortunate happen he says, "Oh no!" I love that he is starting to notice what is happening to the people around him.
• He hides things, or throws things and the energetically says, "Where'd it go?" with his hands up in the air with an attitude of surprise and eager anticipation at finding it again soon.
• When he sees or eats something he likes and it is finished he says, "more?" But he says it over and over and over and ends up sounding like a really soft spoken and sweet version of the seagulls on Finding Nemo.
• His attention span impresses me every day. This little boy loves stickers. I have two tablets of those little round "way to go" stickers, you know the ones that come in a package of 2000 in the Crayola aisle at Target? He will sit for half an hour and stick one after another on a piece of paper. When he does it he is very serious and intent. It is amazing to me!
• He also loves songs with motions. "If You're Happy And You Know It" is my favorite one to sing because on cue he will clap his hands, stomp his feet, turn around AND shout amen.
• Andy has been teaching Jack new boy tricks too. Jack now is practicing jumping off things with two feet leaving the ground at the same time as well as knowing how and when to "tap out." Yes, it is true. Andy will squeeze Jack really tight and say, "tap out!" and Jack waves his hand around and says, "tap, tap."
• All of these sweet moments make it so fun to play with him. But I also appreciate that he now will find an activity that interests him and do it totally solo. It is such a delight to watch him hard at work at whatever he has decided to do.

Every day he does something that makes me smile and turn to Andy to say, "How did we end up with such an awesome kid?!" It is fun to see him grow and learn and to discover that he is a naturally soft and sweet and in my opinion incredibly talented!

He Said, She Said: Today

I'm going to share with you a very true and a very unfortunate aspect of marriage.

It is the fact that sometimes you have to come to terms with the reality that you are just weird. And that you, as a person, even as a loved and adored spouse, can be irritating and irrational and, I hope not often, mean.

Luckily this story has nothing to do with mean, mostly weird.

I am weird.

I am irritating (on occasion).

And it is a darn good thing that I am well loved and have a husband with a good sense of humor because these aspects of my personality come out much more frequently than I would like.

I also happen to be pregnant,

which I like to imagine causes

the increase in these unattractive qualities,

but in reality probably is just a scapegoat for me.

Oh well,

if I've got to surrender my body for the next 9+ months

to an alien creature

then I feel completely entitled to use

all the excuses I can think of.

Today was one of those days that I was totally indecisive. Like one minute I was saying to Andy, "I guess I'll go to the store..." and then a few minutes or an hour later I would say, "I guess I won't go to the store today." Then a few minutes later I would start the same go-round, always about going to the grocery store.

Andy patiently and sweetly ignored my contradictory prater about the grocery store. Giving a simple but genuine "okay" each time I voiced a half-formed plan out loud.

Finally toward the end of the afternoon I had to pathetically confess that I was just in a weird mood and had no idea about what I wanted to do. I rambled on and on about what might be making me think and feel so spastic. Andy listened politely and offered little to say that "no, don't worry honey, you've been completely charming and sensical all day." What could he say? I've been totally retarded!

I concluded my lengthy monologue by saying, "And I feel like a giant pregnant woman."

BONUSE MARRIAGE TIP:

At this point in our marriage

I am too smart to say anything like

"I feel like a cow."

That is much too dramatic to get a gentle response

and what man do you know that likes

to hear his beloved bride called a cow?

My husband sure doesn't.

When I say things like that he just gets mad,

like he would toward anyone else

who talked about me like that.

So I stuck with the safe description

that would communicate the same thing.

Andy's response came out immediately and forcefully, "Well that's good! Because you are!"

I know that might not come across in text with the same teasing but man-factual tone that he used, but it perfectly communicated to me that yes, I am indeed a pregnant woman and I am exactly how I should be... growing big with a baby, so get over it.

Leave it to Andy to snap me out of a funk!

And pregnancy update: I feel huge!

Kindergarten

Each week I have the privilege of helping in my sister Ellery's kindergarten class.

It is a wonderful plan on several accounts. It gives Jack a chance to hang out with my mom and play with his sweet grandma and it gives me a chance to be a cool big sister to Ellery. It is also enormously entertaining to be in a room full of five and six year olds.

I usually arrive as the kids are finishing their morning recess. Now that I'm a familiar face the kids in Ellery's class will run up to me and show me their coats, give me a hug, or shyly wave at me as they dash by.

Ellery always comes and hugs me and gives me a recap of what she's been doing at recess and who her friends of the day are.

Last week a girl from her class was sobbing and huddling by the teacher. When I got there Ellery ran up to me as usual. In a very compassionate voice she asked what was wrong with the girl. Ellie (the girl who was crying), between sobs said that so-and-so said they didn't want to play with her that day. I was so proud of my little sis when she said, "I'll play with you!" Then she grabbed Ellie's hand and pulled her off to play.

Way to go Ellery!

Ellie is a funny character in her own right. There is a gaggle of girls in Ellery's class who always appraise my accessories. They take turns saying,

"I like your earrings."

"I like your hair."

"You're pretty."

Can you see why I keep going back?

These girls all sit at the same table. Ellie sits at their table too, but even in kindergarten you can tell the "in" girls and the "out" girls. Ellie is not one of the in.

On the way to lunch one day I was walking with the class and one of the in-girls said, "I like your shoes." Ellie looked back to join in the commentary about my appearance. She looked me up and down and then her face broke into a smile. "You got all clean! Good job!!" Then she gave me a double thumbs up.

Yesterday when I went to class it was raining so they were having recess inside. It was a little chaotic as the teacher waved to me and tried to get a movie going for the recess time.

I admire Ellery's teacher

but I have to say that I find it a bit

odd to substitute

a movie for recess.

Especially for kindergartners.

Isn't the point of recess to burn off

extra energy?

Isn't sitting in the dark the opposite of

expending energy?

But I'm not a teacher

and I have fallen pray to the ease of a

moving picture to entertain Jack

when I just don't have the energy to think

of anything else.

So who am I to judge?

When I walked in the kids were all coloring or wandering and when their teacher said hi to me they all turned and waved too. Ellery ran over to hug me and as she was walking back to her seat Ellie ran up to her and with great gusto said, "Your sister... is... SO... AWESOME!"

Thanks Ellie!

As I took my seat at Ellery's table to wait while the teacher got the video going a little boy turned to me and held up his well-chewed fingernails. Out of the blue he said, "Do you have any nails I can chew? Mine are all too short."

"Oh, I'm sorry, I don't!"

Oh kids, you are hilarious!

I'm so glad I get to see a small part of Ellery's school life each week! Lucky, lucky me!

But seriously, what do you say to a kid who asks to chew your fingernails?!