Snowed in (just not literally)

5 weeks. 

That's what I have left.  I'm going to make it. 

It's a far cry from last year's naiive "I've only got 5 weeks left?!  Who can believe how fast the school year goes!"

In case you were wondering, I hate that chipper, obnoxious, energy-having, student-liking person right now.  Really, if she were here, I would punch her right in the face. 

Seriously.

We're still here.  I'm still pregnant (which is a very, very good thing despite my negative tone).  It's just that my crazy circus of a life has me running for bed when I finally get a spare minute instead of the keyboard.

In the news:
I scared a teenager in the checkout line at the grocery store.  Sick 2 year old + husband out of town + 4:30 in the afternoon = one very stressed mommy.  Oh yeah, and this kid was contracting the heck out of me.  I'm pretty sure the girl in front of me thought I was going to have the baby right there between the shopping cart and her Kit Kats.  She was looking a little pale.

Leah is officially two.  Yes.  So far, I've routinely commented on how each new phase is my favorite, and it really was true.  We've reached the juncture where that's no longer accurate.  Good thing she's cute, 'cause she's stubborn and ornery, too.  And the kind of smart that makes life very interesting. 

Oh, and the house.  I've totally forgotten to mention: we're selling it.  Or, at least, we're trying to.  It goes on the market May 1st (and please don't remind me how quickly that's coming up.  I might start pulling my hair out).  Heaven only knows what will come of it in this market, but say a little prayer, will ya? 

I'll admit it, I'm feeling a little overwhelmed.  I know that everything will work out the way it's supposed to...

...it's just that I've taken to maniacally chanting the time I have left over and over, like one of those vacant-eyed, crazy haired people you sometimes see in movies.  Or on the streets of Downtown Denver.

5 weeks.  5 weeks.  5 weeks.

A love letter to my baby boy

To my beautiful baby boy,

It is difficult to fully express to you the emotions I feel as I write this letter.  It's 2:30 a.m. and, as usual, we can't sleep.  I am awake, and - faithful little buddy that you are - so are you. 

It's still a little odd to me to think that all these things I'm experiencing are things you never will.  You will never sit at a computer at 2:30 a.m. with a glass of milk, giggling like a school girl because there is a tiny babe moving in your belly.  You probably won't even giggle like a school girl, because, well, you'll never be one. 

Instead, you'll have your own adventures.  The boy kind.  Ones that I'll probably never fully understand that involve dirt and bugs and climbing things. 

Your sister cannot wait to meet you. And you know what else? She's pretty cool. She calls you Baby Peanut and thanks God for you in her prayers. There will probably be some times when you won't get along and you'll make eachother nuts, but remember that she loved you too, right from the beginning. 

Please know that you have filled my very soul with lovely.  There has been a tiny piece missing from my heart, and I know it is a hole that is shaped precisely to you.  One day when you can read, I want you to know just how big a blessing you've already been to your family. 

Your name means "from the hollow."  I wish I could tell you that we picked it especially for you, but like so many things that come with being the second child, it's just a hand-me-down.  Except that it fits you perfectly, because before you came along, that's what I was: a little hollow.  A lot hollow.  I treasure your name every time I think of you, my perfect little someone whose very existence chases away the hollow and makes me full.  Full of hope, wonder, and the incredible miracle that is a new life.  Make no mistake, this name belongs to you, even when we didn't know it was you we were picking it for. 

God is funny about those things, my beautiful boy.  He gives us what we need even before we knew we would need it.  I pray that His grace will touch every moment of your life, and that you will grow and thrive in His perfect love.   

Although I cannot wait to meet you, I hope you'll hang out another, oh, 18 weeks or so.  I love this special time where it's just you and me, and I get to poke and annoy and treasure you in this way when you're uniquely mine.  Remember when you get out: the grandmas might give you candy, but you lived in me.  I'm just sayin'. 

You'll like it here.  We're pretty fun people.  I make amazing birthday cakes and Daddy can't wait to play legos with you.  I think you'll have to take all your sports advice from me, though.  Don't tell Daddy, but I'm way better at throwing a ball than him. 

I love you to the moon and back,

Mommy  

Star Wars: Now showing in my uterus

Firstly, let's all just let out that sigh of relief we've been holding hoping for a perfectly healthy, happy baby. 

What?  That was just me?  Well, let me pause to exhale.

Since that's done, let's all also marvel at the complete and total immodesty of our son, who has no inhibitions whatsoever...

...and who is still very, very clearly a boy.  Just in case you couldn't read this ultrasound photo.  Like, from space.  (To be fair, I did warn him today that I'd be putting these pictures on the internet.)

He has taken up Leah's favorite old (breech) haunting grounds of head up-butt down, facing directly at my spine.  Which makes me wonder if A) the space in my belly is at all like the butt marks on the couch when you've been sitting there for a really long time or B) perhaps the back of my uterus does something utterly amazing, like showing matine features of the entire Star Wars trilogy. 

It's really nothing to worry about, given that I still have 20 weeks to go.  Just an interesting sibling similarity.

Baby Boy is also measuring a bit on the large side.  About one week larger than he should be, to be exact, and that is something to worry about.  The words 85th percentile have me and my lady parts a little on edge. 

Which brings me to the contractions, which have already started.

I'm convinced I had next to none with Leah.  No Braxton Hicks, except for one scary night at about 30 weeks when I nearly talked myself into labor. 

So I was surprised two nights ago when, out of the blue, I had a HUGE (and thankfully quick) contraction.  I've been feeling them somewhat frequently ever since, even though they're gentle.

It's worried me a little, given how early it is.  I also couldn't decide if I'm just crazy.  So when we caught two contractions on the ultrasound today, I couldn't help but feel a little vindicated.  I've been assured that it's not too early; evidently my body is just preparing for what it obviously knows is going to be quite an event. 

Yes, that wiggly baby boy is going to have to get out at some point.  Right now though, I'm quite content with his current accomodations.

'Specially if my uterus can play Star Wars. 

The bunny and the egg

On Easter eve, I discovered the beauty of holiday characters who come in the middle of the night: God bless the Easter Bunny for working his magic only after children fall asleep!  On hearing this information, Leah promptly - and with absolutely zero pushback - curled up and fell asleep.

In the morning while changing her diaper, we discovered a little egg in a shoe, and from there, the magic of Easter was revealed.  Including much candy consumed before breakfast.

We went to an early church service and then Daddy went home to put our breakfast in the oven while Leah and I worked the next service. 

Afternoon activities included a nap, a walk, and watching the new Veggie Tales DVD the Easter Bunny brought.  We learned, through a combination of singing fruits and vegetables, that a thankful heart is a happy heart.  Too, too true.

Dinner was a delicious steak grilled by my oh so talented hubby and strawberry shortcake for dessert.

Leah's third Easter.  Our hearts are very happy, indeed. 

Leah 2.0

Just because it's almost April and I'm finally getting around to actually posting this doesn't mean it hasn't been in the works for a long time. 

I'm just lazy.  And pregnant.  Extra points are a given for actually getting anything done. 

Yes, our sweet girl is two.  It's very difficult to believe. 

At two...

...Leah isn't really into dress up yet, but adores wearing hats, gloves, necklaces, shoes, and anything else a little unusual that she can put on her body.

...Is fiercely independent.  I can't tell you how many times a day I hear, "No, Leah do it!" or "SELF!"  She wants desperately to be able to dress herself, but (lucky for me) isn't quite there yet.

...Has gotten extremely picky about life.  She does not appreciate it if her food is cut up into bite-sized pieces, and would much rather have something totally unmanageable, like an entire sandwich or piece of pizza.  We sneak-cut her food, because if you do it in front of her, she totally freaks out.  She *might* possibly be a control freak - and I have no idea where she got that.

...On the picky front, she also can't stand to have dirt or hair on her hands.  It's probably her biggest complaint throughout the day.  Mommy!  Come quick!  What's her ailment?  A hair on her finger.  Good thing we have two dogs...

...She is very sweet and polite.  She almost always says please and thank you, and will offer a bless you or excuse ('scuze) me after a sneeze or burp.

...Loves to open and close doors.  She's much better at the closing than the opening, and once even locked herself in her room.  Thank goodness Daddy was around for that one, and the knob has since been changed.

...Her favorite book right up until her birthday was Pinkalicious.  She could honestly recite the entire book - with very, very minimal prompting - from memory.  In the past few weeks, we've gone back to some old favorites like "Are You my Mother?" and "The Little Mouse, the Red, Ripe Strawberry and the Big Hungry Bear."

...Caillou is still her favorite show.  Actually, it's pretty much the only thing we ever let her watch.  I'm not sure it's a favorite so much as a lack of options.  I am amazed at how much she learns, and she loves it just the same.

...Is an excellent helper, and loves to have something to do that immitates mommy.

...Has gotten away from being a snuggler, and has been known to exclaim, "No, Daddy!  Don't give me kisses!"  On the other hand, the girl loves to be tickled. 

...Loves to sing The Itsy Bitsy Spider, or anything from our music class.

...Still isn't a very social creature.  Even though we've been going to church for a year, and even though mommy works in the room with her, she just isn't comfortable around big groups of people.  She hangs back and does her own thing rather than joining in with the other kids.  She's pretty good one on one, but definitely not in big groups. It's just not her forte.

...Loves to pull the covers up over her head when she goes to bed, and has to have an army of teddies in with her. 

...Hasn't climbed out of her crib.  In fact, she hasn't even tried (much to her mother's delight!).  She loves to play in the crib, and can be up there for hours playing quietly.  Sometimes, loooong after I think she's down for her nap, I'll suddenly hear her talking to herself as she plays. 

...Wears size 4 diapers, size 6 shoes, and 2T clothing. 

...Finally has a full head of hair!  Waahoo!  It is constantly in wild woman mode, and looks completely unkempt three minutes after I brush it.  She also almost has a full set of teeth; she's shy one or two little ones on the sides and one set of molars. 

...Adores anything related to pretend food, shopping or cooking.  Also loves to play with the babies she got for her birthday, and push them in her stroller.  Her babies are always being well tended, and I can count on her to diaper and blanket them.  I can't wait to see how she'll do as a big sister!

...Counts independently to twelve, knows most of her basic colors, the alphabet and recognizes close to half of the written letters.  And the number 8.  Right now, she's into skipping three and four when she counts.  They used to be her favorite - now they're so last year.  One, two, five, six is how things go in our house most days.  Although she does none of these amazing things in front of people, so I may as well be lying.  (Come to think of it... have I mentioned that she can read and do quadratic equations?)

We couldn't be any more blessed by this sweet little person.  Even though this is probably the most difficult she's ever been in her whole life (not saying much, give how darn easy she's been all along), I still think she's awfully easy for a toddler.

Happy belated second birthday to my beautiful little pumpkin.  I can't begin to tell you what a blessing you have been to my life.

18 Weeks

Swollen much?  We've had beautiful weather this March (as I write this, it's predicted to be 87 degrees tomorrow), and along with it, an absolute onslaught of early spring allergies.  Ah, Claratin.  I miss you!

Baby size: Sweet potato (about 5.5 inches)



Weight gain: 4 pounds (even though I look like I've gained much more!)

This week has brought an increase of lower back pain.  Mine typically starts at about 9 weeks - even though it's not supposed to start until sometime after the 20th week - and it's getting tough to ignore.

Insomnia, check.  Luckily, what with it being spring break, I've been able to trade sleeping at night for sleeping at nap time; a ridiculous luxury, in my opinion.

The trade off for those two less than desirable side effects is that I've been able to feel some very distinct - very, very little - movements from our little one.  Instead of the log rolls I've been feeling, I've got actual hand/foot action.  Little, tiny kicks or punches that still feel sweet, slightly indescernable, and amazing.

And possibly hiccups; I'm about 90% sure I've felt those once or twice. 

Healthy and happy and very round?  Bliss.

Mommy, wear diapers please.

And, just like that, our adventure in potty training is over.

At least for now.

Believe me, I tried to talk up all the perks of wearing big girl panties - the fact that she gets an M&M ever time she goes in the potty chief among them. 

She was adamant: Want to wear diapers.  And if she's not on my team about this whole potty training thing, what hope do I have?

Besides that, it's become pretty clear to me that she's just not quite there yet. 

Every single milestone that girl has overcome, she's done so with ease when she was ready.  Transition from breastfeeding?  Totally her idea.  Starting legitimate solids instead of baby food?  She quit the stuff all on her own, and tried to tell me to give her the goods.  Leaving the paci behind?  No prob. 

So I have to believe that when she's ready to tackle this challenge, it will be - well, maybe easy isn't the right word, but certainly not this hard.  Progress will be made because she's there, and that's not what we have just yet.

Besides, I'll be off again in 8 short weeks (pause for my happy dance.  And.... go.) and we'll try again then.

What's another box or two of diapers?  Nobody goes to high school still wearing them.