Down, that is. We're counting down! Although it seems weird to me that as I add another week I'm actually counting down at the same time. Seems a little backwards.
That may explain why when I'm asked how far along I am I keep replying in weeks left. Like today I would say, "Four weeks!" People get really confused when a seemingly 8 month pregnant lady tells them she is four weeks along. Please don't be scared off by my genius-ness. It's intimidating. I know.
I went in for my 36 week appointment today. We are both doing well. We did find something out today that I've been suspecting for awhile, though. Before I tell you about that I have to give you some background.
When we found out we were having a boy I was thrilled! I still am, too. Believe you me. We don't need anymore Drama Club members. Hazel and Amelia overflow that department just perfectly.
Anyways, though I DESPERATELY wanted a boy I kept having this thought that maybe Jackson would pull an "Uncle Summer." To clarify, Uncle Summer is my oldest sister. (Abiah nicknamed her Uncle Summer and she likes it. If you don't, I'm sorry.) To "pull an 'Uncle Summer'" means that we would spend twenty weeks preparing for a boy baby because the ultra-sound technician pointed to the screen and said, "There "it" is! A boy!" but we would be surprised at the delivery to have a girl instead.
That happened to my mom when she had Summer. She had three boy baby showers and had to take everything back. Of course that was a "few" years ago and ultra-sounds are clearer now. When I mentioned this "thought" to Hot Hubby he quickly told me that it wasn't the case and to stop talking that way.
Well, today it was confirmed that Jackson is NOT pulling an "Uncle Summer." He is, however, trying to pull an "Auntie Am." Auntie Am is my sister directly after me. The third of the four of us girls (Summer, Me, AmberLee & MaShayla). To "pull an 'Auntie Am'" means that a baby is breech. (My mom was in the hospital for FOUR days in labor with AmberLee who was born breech.)
Thankfully there are things the doctors and midwives do now that will help us avoid a breech delivery. They are giving me until 37 weeks and 6 days (April 11th) for Jackson to turn on his own. If he isn't turned by then they will try turning him manually.
To be honest I'm nervous. I know that turning Jackson will be uncomfortable. The part I'm most concerned with is the rare complications that can rise due to turning a baby. If Jackson shows stress or decline after being turned they will do an emergency c~section. Though I definitely won't put Jackson or myself in danger, severe abdominal surgery doesn't sound fun.
I am praying that he either turns on his own or, if they have to turn him, there will be no complications. I am also asking God for peace. My heart is kind of all over the place right now. This has been my specific prayer this evening:
Prone to wander, Lord I feel it.
Prone to leave the God I love.
Here's my heart.
Oh, take and seal it!
Seal it for thy courts above!
Join me, please!
"Let us remember that the life in which we ought to be interested is 'daily' life." ~Gregory of Nyssa
Thursday, March 31, 2011
Tuesday, March 29, 2011
The Beer Belly
I know I told you that it was a baby.
I led you to believe I am expecting a little man-child in the next month.
I may have even given stats and even posted pictures of "the goods."
It was a lie.
A terrible lie to cover up the bigger issue.
My beer belly.
My profile may resemble a pregnant woman, but don't let your eyes fool you. It's just a beer belly.
When you are sitting next to me and think you can see movement, it's not a baby. It's my muscles. Yes, even though I have an enormous beer belly I still have AMAZING stomach muscle control.
I'm magical that way.
I know I should have been honest with you. That's part of the joy of blogging; honesty while hidden behind a computer screen.
Maybe it was just easier to cope with the issue by tricking myself and you into believing it was something it wasn't.
Maybe I figured it would be easier to answer the "here's your sign" questions like "Wow! You're still pregnant?!" and "Are you sure there aren't two in there?!" then having to give an honest answer about my addiction.
People don't judge so much when it's a baby in there. Everyone loves babies, right?
Whatever it was or is, the truth is out now and I can rest.
For those who need it, here's the proof. My Beer Belly:
36 weeks pregnant!
Oh, shoot! There I go again. You know what they say! Once you start lying it's hard to stop!
I led you to believe I am expecting a little man-child in the next month.
I may have even given stats and even posted pictures of "the goods."
It was a lie.
A terrible lie to cover up the bigger issue.
My beer belly.
My profile may resemble a pregnant woman, but don't let your eyes fool you. It's just a beer belly.
When you are sitting next to me and think you can see movement, it's not a baby. It's my muscles. Yes, even though I have an enormous beer belly I still have AMAZING stomach muscle control.
I'm magical that way.
I know I should have been honest with you. That's part of the joy of blogging; honesty while hidden behind a computer screen.
Maybe it was just easier to cope with the issue by tricking myself and you into believing it was something it wasn't.
Maybe I figured it would be easier to answer the "here's your sign" questions like "Wow! You're still pregnant?!" and "Are you sure there aren't two in there?!" then having to give an honest answer about my addiction.
People don't judge so much when it's a baby in there. Everyone loves babies, right?
Whatever it was or is, the truth is out now and I can rest.
For those who need it, here's the proof. My Beer Belly:
36 weeks pregnant!
Oh, shoot! There I go again. You know what they say! Once you start lying it's hard to stop!
Wednesday, March 23, 2011
Monday, March 21, 2011
Letters
In February Abiah made a Valentine's Day ornament and wanted to give it to his cousin, Hayden. I thought this would be a great teaching opportunity and decided we would mail it and learn about writing letters and addressing envelopes.
It also turned out to be a great lesson in procrastination since we didn't get to it until the beginning of March. Even though it was on my counter the whole time.
I decided that for the letter I would focus on format and let the spelling and grammar take the backseat for the day. Abiah doesn't have many opportunities to write outside of copy work for school so this gives me a better idea of how he is coming along in other areas.
Plus you never know what funny things kids will say when they just write on their own.
I recently saw a letter I wrote to my grandparents when I was around six. In it I made sure to explain to them that I was a grown up and did NOT like being treated like a kid. Nathan says that letter explains a lot. I have NO idea what he's talking about.
So, I took a picture of Abiah's letter to post here. I have his permission. He's actually really excited that I'm posting it on my blog. I hope he remembers that when he gets older!
A few days after this letter was sent Abiah lost another tooth. He eagerly anticipated a night time visit from the Tooth Fairy. Sadly he had to wait a few days before her arrival. She had a good reason though. She explained the details in the note she left with his dollar. It seems she may have also had a peek at the letter Abiah sent Hayden because there were some eerie similarities.
Since our family is used to Hot Hubby's sometimes random schedule Abiah was very gracious and understanding. Which made the Tooth Fairy relax a little. For now. Abiah's got another loose tooth and the Tooth Fairy is hoping she'll remember to show up on time!
It also turned out to be a great lesson in procrastination since we didn't get to it until the beginning of March. Even though it was on my counter the whole time.
I decided that for the letter I would focus on format and let the spelling and grammar take the backseat for the day. Abiah doesn't have many opportunities to write outside of copy work for school so this gives me a better idea of how he is coming along in other areas.
Plus you never know what funny things kids will say when they just write on their own.
I recently saw a letter I wrote to my grandparents when I was around six. In it I made sure to explain to them that I was a grown up and did NOT like being treated like a kid. Nathan says that letter explains a lot. I have NO idea what he's talking about.
So, I took a picture of Abiah's letter to post here. I have his permission. He's actually really excited that I'm posting it on my blog. I hope he remembers that when he gets older!
A few days after this letter was sent Abiah lost another tooth. He eagerly anticipated a night time visit from the Tooth Fairy. Sadly he had to wait a few days before her arrival. She had a good reason though. She explained the details in the note she left with his dollar. It seems she may have also had a peek at the letter Abiah sent Hayden because there were some eerie similarities.
Since our family is used to Hot Hubby's sometimes random schedule Abiah was very gracious and understanding. Which made the Tooth Fairy relax a little. For now. Abiah's got another loose tooth and the Tooth Fairy is hoping she'll remember to show up on time!
Thursday, March 17, 2011
How A Night Or Two Became A Week And A Half
The weekend before last was supposed to be a laid back weekend. Aside from the mile long nesting list I'd compiled we had nothing planned. However, since Hot Hubby has developed an allergic reaction to my to-do lists, we spent the day hanging out at home basking in the laziness of the day.
In the evening I did manage to get one item marked off my list: haircuts for the men folk! Abiah was starting to look too Beiber-ish and Hot Hubby's do that I had convinced him into was failing. It isn't my fault that the back of his hair does exactly what I want it to and the front doesn't cooperate AT ALL!
Abiah was more than pleased to get his hair cut. Hot Hubby put up a bit of a fuss but that may have been because of the momentary mullet I gave him when I first started cutting! (pics to come later!)
Little did we know that while we were innocently going about our normal lives an evil plan was unfolding right under our feet. Well, right outside the front window actually.
After the whacking of hair was completed and everyone had bathed we discovered that the fit had hit the shan. Or rather, the mit had hit the shud. Well, let's face it. Poo by any other name is still poo. In short the Crooked Castle had some septic problems.
Without getting into the nitty-gritty details (eww! sorry!) of that mess here's an overview of what our week-and-a-half ended up looking like:
We decided to abandon the Crooked Castle and headed to the in-laws after church on Sunday to stay the night, maybe two. The in-laws are more than happy to have us. My MIL loves to have us stay with her and my FIL loves that we brought the Xbox. Oh. And he was happy to have us stay, too.
Monday we had the line unplugged but they discovered a crack in the line. Apparently 50 year old pluming pipes made of material older than dinosaurs don't last forever!
The MIL and I spend our days looking after the kid's, nursing a dog recovering from surgery, keeping said kids away from said dog, and trying to carry on with life as normally as possible.
Hot Hubby decides the best course of action is to find the break himself. (ew!) A break in a septic line means you're not just digging in dirt! (EW!)
Wednesday Hot Hubby heads home to find the break. I head to the chiropractor to get a massage and adjustment since I can barely walk. Though my MIL is hospitality all wrapped up in a pretty package, I've turned all "The Queen and the Pea" and have a severe disagreement with the mattresses on her guest beds. I know because I tried them both! My hips thank me.
Friday the kids and I make a date with my mom to go shopping and register for Jackson at Target! We find the perfect homecoming outfit and blanket for him and have a great time with my mom.
Hot Hubby and the FIL come out to the Crooked Castle and dig some more to completely uncover the line. (ew! double ew!)
At this point I've resigned myself to the fact that I probably won't be home again until Monday.
Saturday a call is made to the plumbers. We are told they'll be out Monday. I decide I'll plan to stay until Tuesday.
I enjoy watching my kids dance to Mary, Mary with their Poppi. I wish I had a video camera with me!
Hot Hubby and I have some significant time together to talk about our marriage and work through a few issues. We receive great council and support from both of our parents.
Sunday we receive a call that the line is fixed.
We decide to head home Monday.
We wake up Monday and Amelia has come down with the flu.
I spend Monday and Tuesday on the floor and the couch holding her. My prego hips withstand more torture.
Abiah takes advantage of me being distracted with Amelia and enjoys a few days of too much tv and Xbox.
Hazel takes advantage of me being distracted with Amelia and gets into EVERYTHING!
My MIL chases Hazel throughout the house for me, makes meals and keeps us all in clean clothes. Seriously. The woman is a machine! She does laundry ALL day! My laundry room is IN my living room and I can't keep up with it.
Wednesday morning Amelia was finally able to keep some food down and seemed relatively normal.
Hot Hubby heads back to the Crooked Castle before me and the kids and cleans the house for me. Unexpectedly leaving your house for a week and a half has consequences no pregnant woman wants to deal with. I tried to prepare the house but there's only so much you can do without running water! And I only expected to be gone a night or two!
We all were home by Wednesday afternoon and my comfy bed and I were reacquainted just in time for naps! My hips haven't stopped thanking me.
We are so thankful to be back home but we know we couldn't have gotten through this last week without our families.
It feels insufficient to just say "Thank You" so I promise that if I ever win the lottery I will split my earnings with both of our parents. I think that's the only way I'll ever have enough money to repay you. In the meantime, please accept me bragging on you as a substitution?
Oh, and I apologize to those Oregonians who don't want anymore rain. I'm praying for it right now because a portion of my front yard is covered in dirt mixed with...well, you know.
In the evening I did manage to get one item marked off my list: haircuts for the men folk! Abiah was starting to look too Beiber-ish and Hot Hubby's do that I had convinced him into was failing. It isn't my fault that the back of his hair does exactly what I want it to and the front doesn't cooperate AT ALL!
Abiah was more than pleased to get his hair cut. Hot Hubby put up a bit of a fuss but that may have been because of the momentary mullet I gave him when I first started cutting! (pics to come later!)
Little did we know that while we were innocently going about our normal lives an evil plan was unfolding right under our feet. Well, right outside the front window actually.
After the whacking of hair was completed and everyone had bathed we discovered that the fit had hit the shan. Or rather, the mit had hit the shud. Well, let's face it. Poo by any other name is still poo. In short the Crooked Castle had some septic problems.
Without getting into the nitty-gritty details (eww! sorry!) of that mess here's an overview of what our week-and-a-half ended up looking like:
We decided to abandon the Crooked Castle and headed to the in-laws after church on Sunday to stay the night, maybe two. The in-laws are more than happy to have us. My MIL loves to have us stay with her and my FIL loves that we brought the Xbox. Oh. And he was happy to have us stay, too.
Monday we had the line unplugged but they discovered a crack in the line. Apparently 50 year old pluming pipes made of material older than dinosaurs don't last forever!
The MIL and I spend our days looking after the kid's, nursing a dog recovering from surgery, keeping said kids away from said dog, and trying to carry on with life as normally as possible.
Hot Hubby decides the best course of action is to find the break himself. (ew!) A break in a septic line means you're not just digging in dirt! (EW!)
Wednesday Hot Hubby heads home to find the break. I head to the chiropractor to get a massage and adjustment since I can barely walk. Though my MIL is hospitality all wrapped up in a pretty package, I've turned all "The Queen and the Pea" and have a severe disagreement with the mattresses on her guest beds. I know because I tried them both! My hips thank me.
Friday the kids and I make a date with my mom to go shopping and register for Jackson at Target! We find the perfect homecoming outfit and blanket for him and have a great time with my mom.
Hot Hubby and the FIL come out to the Crooked Castle and dig some more to completely uncover the line. (ew! double ew!)
At this point I've resigned myself to the fact that I probably won't be home again until Monday.
Saturday a call is made to the plumbers. We are told they'll be out Monday. I decide I'll plan to stay until Tuesday.
I enjoy watching my kids dance to Mary, Mary with their Poppi. I wish I had a video camera with me!
Hot Hubby and I have some significant time together to talk about our marriage and work through a few issues. We receive great council and support from both of our parents.
Sunday we receive a call that the line is fixed.
We decide to head home Monday.
We wake up Monday and Amelia has come down with the flu.
I spend Monday and Tuesday on the floor and the couch holding her. My prego hips withstand more torture.
Abiah takes advantage of me being distracted with Amelia and enjoys a few days of too much tv and Xbox.
Hazel takes advantage of me being distracted with Amelia and gets into EVERYTHING!
My MIL chases Hazel throughout the house for me, makes meals and keeps us all in clean clothes. Seriously. The woman is a machine! She does laundry ALL day! My laundry room is IN my living room and I can't keep up with it.
Wednesday morning Amelia was finally able to keep some food down and seemed relatively normal.
Hot Hubby heads back to the Crooked Castle before me and the kids and cleans the house for me. Unexpectedly leaving your house for a week and a half has consequences no pregnant woman wants to deal with. I tried to prepare the house but there's only so much you can do without running water! And I only expected to be gone a night or two!
We all were home by Wednesday afternoon and my comfy bed and I were reacquainted just in time for naps! My hips haven't stopped thanking me.
We are so thankful to be back home but we know we couldn't have gotten through this last week without our families.
It feels insufficient to just say "Thank You" so I promise that if I ever win the lottery I will split my earnings with both of our parents. I think that's the only way I'll ever have enough money to repay you. In the meantime, please accept me bragging on you as a substitution?
Oh, and I apologize to those Oregonians who don't want anymore rain. I'm praying for it right now because a portion of my front yard is covered in dirt mixed with...well, you know.
Saturday, March 5, 2011
'Til My Sides Hurt: When Daddy's In Charge
A recent conversation between me and Hot Hubby:
Me: Have the kids eaten lunch yet?
HH: No.
Me: Why not?
HH: Because I'm not hungry yet.
Me: Well... Are they?
HH: Well, your daughter ate a napkin a little while ago so I figured she'll be fine for awhile and the other ones aren't complaining yet...
Me: Have the kids eaten lunch yet?
HH: No.
Me: Why not?
HH: Because I'm not hungry yet.
Me: Well... Are they?
HH: Well, your daughter ate a napkin a little while ago so I figured she'll be fine for awhile and the other ones aren't complaining yet...
Thursday, March 3, 2011
There's A Reason and A Conclusion
There really is. I know it's been a few weeks since I've posted and every time I come back from a hiatus I promise I'll get better about posting. Every day I have multiple things to blog about, but when it comes time to sit down and blog I can't find it. It being the patience to sort through my thoughts and feelings and put them into articulate sentences and paragraphs.
I'm just entering the eighth month of this pregnancy and for some reason it feels like the tenth month. I didn't get this way with Hazel and only remember feeling this way in the last month and ten days I went over due with Amelia.
From the moment I'm awakened by Hazel slamming her door open and the startled cries of Amelia being rudely awakened I have to force myself to tap into that seemingly invisible well of patience. Though I love my life and my sweet little family, right now most days feel like I've spent an eternity trying to be intentional with them and myself.
So while I sort through these emotions and reserve my energy for my little family, please be patient with me. I have so much that I want to share with you all. I hope to get there soon.
For now I've come to the conclusion that if I let myself stress eat "crap food" every now and then (read: once or twice a week...or day), but am honest with myself about it doesn't count. Especially if I eat well the week of my next check up/weigh in. I've accepted this justification as an acceptable reality in my life...for now.
I'd ask your opinion but I may not like your answer. Feel free to indulge my justification in the comment area below!
I'm just entering the eighth month of this pregnancy and for some reason it feels like the tenth month. I didn't get this way with Hazel and only remember feeling this way in the last month and ten days I went over due with Amelia.
From the moment I'm awakened by Hazel slamming her door open and the startled cries of Amelia being rudely awakened I have to force myself to tap into that seemingly invisible well of patience. Though I love my life and my sweet little family, right now most days feel like I've spent an eternity trying to be intentional with them and myself.
So while I sort through these emotions and reserve my energy for my little family, please be patient with me. I have so much that I want to share with you all. I hope to get there soon.
For now I've come to the conclusion that if I let myself stress eat "crap food" every now and then (read: once or twice a week...or day), but am honest with myself about it doesn't count. Especially if I eat well the week of my next check up/weigh in. I've accepted this justification as an acceptable reality in my life...for now.
I'd ask your opinion but I may not like your answer. Feel free to indulge my justification in the comment area below!
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