6710 Grand

I’m wrestling with a difficult truth.  Well, maybe just chewing on it a bit.  Still wrapping my head around it.  I was listening to a Max Lucado book, Never Give Up .  He was telling the story of a young teen who was roughhousing around with his brother.  In their headlocks and arm wrestling, one kicked the other in the stomach—in the gut as he said.  Such a kick yielded acute, severe pain.  The pain led them to the emergency room which uncovered a tumor.  Emergency surgery removed the cancerous mass which, the surgeon said, had only been growing for a few days at most.  This aggressive invasion of the body could have resulted in a more serious outcome.  So, Max said, God saved the boy with a kick in the gut.  Miracle?  Sure.  I guess.  But why would God use such a method? The book is talking about going through hard things and not letting discouragement or pain get the better of you and cause you to “curse God ...

I love New Years.  I didn't realize how much really until a few years ago.  It's fun to have a fresh start--to clean out the old and simplify.  Tomorrow, everything starts over.  At least that's how it normally is.  This year, I have to wait for February for that.  I can't spend the day tomorrow putting away Christmas decor (I can't reach most of it and I can't lift the heavy bins we store it in) and hauling trash away.  I can't start a new exercise regime and I can't change up my diet.  So, this year I'm delaying New Years until April when (I hope) I have enough energy to start fresh!

It just might be the cutest thing she's ever said.  I took the girls shopping at the mall this afternoon.  After a week of Christmas vacation we were all feeling a little cooped up.  My parents sent the girls shopping money as a gift which meant I didn't have to say "no" to every silly thing they wanted to buy, which is always nice.  I can be the best mom ever for a little while.  We started with lunch.  It's never as much fun without Nick but we made the best of it.  To Macy's, their favorite store, after that.  No trip to the mall is complete without Starbucks, so that was next on our list.  I'm thrilled that they can make my favorite drinks in decaf and if they're not crazy busy, they're happy to accommodate my requests for blended chocolate milk with whip for the girls.  After we ordered our drinks and knowing it would be a few minutes (and OK, I'm 33 weeks pregnant) we sat at one of the tables.  Bebo climbed up into one o...

I had an ultrasound today...again.  This is the joy of being an old mom.  I get to have these lovely things every month.  They're telling me that this kiddo is already above the 90th percentile and at about 5lbs 11oz.  That's at 33 weeks.  Add another 3.5 pounds to that and that's more than a 9lb baby!  Yikes! It has me more than a little worried.  I really don't want  c-section.  I know, they're practically routine.  But my genetic mutation that increases risks of blood clots weighs heavily on my mind.  I already can't breathe or sleep right.  He's only getting bigger. Of course, there's nothing I can do about it but pass the time.  Still.  I'm much more nervous than I want to be.

I miss commercials.  Not what's in  them, just that they're there .  I need that 3 minute break.  Let's face it--at 32 weeks pregnant, I'm heading for the bathroom every fifteen minutes.  But even three minutes isn't enough.  It takes me that long to get out of the chair I'm in.  What I need is for everything I watch to have a good bathroom song.  With all of these sappy Christmas movies we're watching, I've had to introduce my kids to the concept of the bathroom song.  I have my dad to thank for this--he's the one who coined the phrase.  It's the song nobody likes that you let run through while everyone gets up to use the bathroom.  Every musical has one too.  We recently watched Seven Brides for Seven Brothers --"When You're in Love" is the perfect bathroom song.  Last week we watched The Muppet Christmas Carol .  "The Love is Gone" was the perfect bathroom song.  But just as I was getting ready to identify...

I am so done with this whole pregnant thing.  I know, I know--still 9 weeks to go.  But really by the fourth kiddo, the novelty has long worn off.  I am not one of those women who enjoys being pregnant.  It's all well and good in the earliest weeks before the nausea and exhaustion but that whole second trimester energy thing is a myth.  Or maybe it just is when you already have a house full of people and too much to do.  Other moms are always saying to me "at least you're not pregnant in the summer".  Well, I've been pregnant in the summer--twice.  And let's face it the Phoenix summers are really year-round.  I'd way rather that than being pregnant over the holidays.  There's just so much going on.  I'm extra busy and extra tired.  Plus no wine!  Summer days are lazier.  I can lounge around on the weekends and go to bed early during the week.  Not so in December!  There's the concerts, the events, the acti...

I am always surprised at what people will say to pregnant women.  I think most of the time they don't mean anything by it but in every instance, it's rude.  It's insensitive.  It's intrusive.  A friend of mine had difficulty having children.  People were always asking her "when are you going to have kids?" or "why don't you have kids yet?".  Think about how that sounds to someone struggling.  I can think of a dozen answers that would likely shame such people into silence.  As a pregnant mom of 3 girls in the 4th decade of life, here's what I get: "Was this a surprise?"  None of your business. "Oh, you're finally getting a boy!"  As if having another girl would be a disappointment or somehow, my life is empty without a son or--BIG assumption--I WANT a boy. "Wow--four kids!  You know what causes that right?"  I just don't understand this one. The one I hate the most is "You sure waited a long tim...

I'm still in denial.  At 30 weeks and 2 days I am not mentally prepared to have a baby.  It STILL doesn't feel real.  Sure, every time I try to stand up or roll over in bed I'm reminded by this ginormous belly but it's only the physical.  At work I keep planning for spring fundraising.  At home I keep thinking about how I'm going to do more this year--like New Year's Resolution planning.  I'm going to run more marathons, take the girls more places, travel more.  Um, probably not. When we had Isabelle I wasn't ready to say "this is my last pregnancy".  Well, I'm definitely ready now.  I do NOT enjoy being pregnant.  It's uncomfortable.  I miss wine.  I miss sleeping on my back.  I'm oh so tired of doctor appointments and blood work.  Well, kiddo, you're it!  Our last one.  That's OK with me.  I'm ready to be done having kids.  People ask me all the time if this one was a surprise.  First--t...

I supposed I should have posted this a while ago.  But I didn't.  It hasn't felt real until...well, it still doesn't.  Maybe I was waiting for that--for it to feel real.  I'm betting it will finally sink in on February 15th--that's when our little man is due to arrive. That's right.  I'm pregnant and it's a boy. A boy.  What?  Are we sure?  Yep.  We're sure.  But no.  It can't be.  We have girls.  That's what we do.  We know how to do that (at least so far).  What am I supposed to do with a boy?  I have to buy all new stuff! I've mostly heard horror stories about raising boys.  The first thing everyone says is how spoiled he'll be by his big sisters. I always follow it up with "Or he'll grow up really understanding women."  Let's hope for the latter. Despite the spoiling alert and the "just you wait" looks I get from moms of boys, what I consistently hear is how much boys love their mommas....

I was so hoping to be posting the details of my weekend labor.  Not so much.  I keep telling myself that it's only 39 weeks.  I'm not overdue.  But I FEEL overdue.  I feel like I should be heading to the hospital any day now. We tried every trick in the book--spicy food, lots of walking, even a bumpy hayride at the peach orchard yesterday.  Nothing.  Today, more walking and more spicy food.  When I went in for my weekly appointment this afternoon I was fully expecting SOMETHING to happen.  Another centimeter (already at 3) more effacement (just 60%) my water breaking during the exam--ANYTHING to tell me that today is the day. Nothing. Well, maybe tomorrow.  I have a pedicure planned to help things along.  Keep your fingers (and toes and anything else you can) crossed!

We've been watching old home movies--the girls call them the Ivy and Iris movies.  It's been fun seeing them when they were babies and thinking how we'll get to do all of this again.  We've found absolute treasures mixed in with the holiday and vacation memories. "Dad, do you want to play throw the catch?"--Ivy "Oh WAH TAH!" --Iris  Don't ask me what that means, but she used to say it all the time. An adorable exchange between Ivy and Nick about Great Grandma Olson's trip to Heaven. We look at them when they were 1 and 2 and 4 and think how it feels like yesterday that they did these cute things.  And yet still it seems like long ago... Just this morning, Iris saw my bottle of Tums (a.k.a. pregnant candy for those of you who know) and asked if I had "heart broken".  t was a moment for the camera certainly and reminded me that we really need to take more Ivy and Iris movies...and watch them much more often before these days...

In the summer of 2008, Ivy was not quite 2 and Iris was due in about four months.  My brother Andrew was graduating from the 8 th grade and I was headed to St. Louis to attend the ceremony.  Nick and I had just spend the weekend moving from one apartment in Phoenix to another.  His parents had driven in from San Diego to help.  After a very difficult night’s sleep, Ivy and I headed to the airport quite early in the morning.  So early, that I decided it was more practical to keep her in her pajamas and change her at the airport once we were through security.  I was always nervous flying with a purchased ticket, which we hadn’t done often since Nick left Southwest for Mesa. We made it in plenty of time and once through security, Ivy and I headed for the changing station.  She’d pooped!  Great!  A steady one poop per day kid, I was glad to have that out of the way early.  I cleaned her up and changed her clothes.  We were both in...

I know the secret. I know... It so simple and yet so...contradictory. But it's true. I know it! The secret to the most often asked question particularly among women: What do I have to do to loose weight? Well, let me just tell you...because I KNOW! Here it is. Get ready. It's not eat less or exercise more. It's way easier and less time consuming than that. What is it? I'm going to tell you... GETTING PREGNANT! Yes, that's it! Sorry men, you're out of luck. You'll have to stick with your higher metabolisms and ability to just eat more. I feel no sympathy for you. Yes, I have simply lost 12 pounds and 2 pants sizes in 22 weeks. People usually assume I have dreadful morning sickness. While I did for a while, it's long gone. Well, you must be taking better care of yourself. No, I don't think so. As you know, I'm obsessed with food altogether and have been for some time, not to mention a rigorous worker-outer. Those things have...

It's a girl! That's right, we're pregnant again. We had an ultrasound this afternoon and actually got to see a 3-D picture of her face! Weird but very cool. She actually looks a lot like Ivy (big shock). I was actually quite sure that I was having a boy. I guess that women's intuition isn't as right as we gals like to say it is. Oh well. It was surprise to both of us. Nick, of course, is now fearing being outnumbered. He was safe as long as we had our kitties, but since Oberon has found himself a new home (where he's much happier), the estrogen/testosterone ration has been reltaively equal. Of course, Jean-Claude has been neutered, but we'll just pretentd his hormones are all there. Poor Nick now realizes that his bathroom time will be drastically shorter and he will have to learn to braid hair. He will have to threaten two sets of male suitors and deal with three women with PMS every month. He will now have to pay for two weddings and give two...

I’ve survived the first week—actually, the first ten days. So far, this mom thing is a piece of cake. Maybe I have an exceptionally good baby. Little Ivy sleeps at four hour increments at night, waking only once for a short feeding and then it’s back to bed for all of us. It doesn’t make sense to me for Nick to get up with her. He can’t feed her (not yet anyway) so why should we both be awake? He’s the one who has to go to work the next day, so I take on all of the nightly responsibilities. Labor was easier than I thought too. After nine hours of pitocin induced contractions, I caved and asked for an epidural. Three hours later, I pushed for half an hour and out she came. The worst part of giving birth was the stupid blood pressure monitor! Mine was high, so they took my vitals every fifteen minutes. That sucker clamped onto my arm so tight I thought it would pop off! Hospitals are horrible places. This was the first time I’d ever been admitted to a hospital. Sure, I’d been to the emer...

About three or four months into my vegetarian lifestyle, Nick and I went to my grandmother’s house for a family gathering. Just about everything served had meat in it. No big deal. We were new at this and a lot of people simply weren’t aware of it. I was sitting with one of my aunts and my older brother, eating when my aunt took notice of the lack of meat on my plate. When I told her I was a vegetarian, she said, “You can’t do that.” My brother laughed. “Don’t tell my sister she can’t do something.” He’s right. It only makes me more determined. I am my own person and no one knows me better than me. A close second is my husband, followed shortly by my mother. I suspect that she doesn’t like me at times, but at least she knows me. Isn’t that true of all mothers? I also don’t think she’s worried that I won’t love my children or that I won’t be able to cope with labor or motherhood. She knows how tough I am. She knows that I won’t let anything get in my way. (Mom, if you’re shaking your he...