So in case you can’t tell, when I get stressed out…I stop writing. So from week 33 until week 38 (aka delivery week) I haven’t posted a darn thing.
After multiple threatening emails and comments (ha ha ha) I have resumed writing. Baby Elijah Harris was born on the 5th at 2:39 AM and he weighed 7lbs 9oz and was 20 inches long. (was kinda hoping he was closer to 20 lbs - thus explaining my 40 lbs weight gain but alas, it was the ice cream…not the baby)
He is doing great and the other two lovely little men are adjusting. I promise a full story, including my water breaking at the local park in front of a lady whom I had recently flipped off in a fit of pregnancy road rage - I showed her! And the part about how mixing pitocin, personal stubbornness unmatched by any human and an unreported (until now) case of scoliosis will make you turn into the lady Satan herself. Oh people, the story is good. So are the pictures. However, my usb cable is currenly MIA so I can’t get the pictures off the camera just yet.
Tomorrow the children go to school and I will have 5 minutes to look for the cord and begin telling my story. In the meantime, thank you for your patience…regularly scheduled programing to resume soon!
I read in my baby book that Week 33 involves some sort of growth spurt for my little pumpkin. If you look back on Week 31, you’ll see I went from pregnant! to PREGNANT! I will say that while I am getting lots of comments about looking “really ready” this week has brought some good things. I am finally starting to feel like my heart is ready for baby Elijah. I have had tons of dreams about him and I can’t wait to see what he looks like. Also, given my history of big babies and my current size, if Eli isn’t at least an 8 or 9 pounder…I got a lot of explaining to do (involving entire containers of ice cream).
The nesting has begun and I have been organizing and cooking. To be sure, I have yet to purchase a single baby item or put any of the borrowed/donated baby items I have received into any sort of organized form - but the rest of the house is getting ready for baby. I will get started on that part after my shower next week.
Note to you ladies who swear you are “done” having babies. Unless you have done something surgical to ensure that…don’t give away all of your baby stuff. The minute you do, two pink lines are going to show up on a home pregnancy test…guaranteed.
This picture is over a week old, as I am 32 plus weeks now - I am even bigger this week and will post an update tomorrow. For the time being, please note that my belly is quickly dropping….dear goodness I have a feeling I will have it resting on my thighs in no time. Pregnancy is b-ea-utiful and oh so sexy!
When our first son was born, I was worried how the two rowdy beagles we had at the time would adjust. I actually spent real emotional energy thinking about this in the months before I delivered. I did research on introducing the baby to the dogs and I spent more minutes than I would like to admit thinking about how I could possibly have room in my heart for both the baby and the dogs. The dogs went on vacation with us, they slept with us, we had framed pictures of them around the house and on our computer screensavers. When other people told stories about what cute things their kids did, I threw in anecdotes about my beagles. Yes, I was that person. Needless to say, about 10 seconds in to holding Isaac for the first time, those dogs moved to a different corner of my heart. I still loved them but it wasn’t the same.
The night before our second son was born, I went in to his sweetly prepared nursery and cried my eyes out. I couldn’t imagine how I could love a baby as much as or more than I loved our firstborn. I couldn’t fathom how my heart would have room for this next child. I spent an incredible amount of my pregnancy with Joshua researching the addition of a sibling to the family dynamic. I read stories to Isaac in preparation for Joshua’s homecoming. I thought I was prepared, until the night before when it hit me that everything was about to change. I just broke down. Memories of my introduction to motherhood and how it felt to hold my first baby were flooding into my brain. How could a second child compare? How could I feel as attached to this baby as I did to the precious child sleeping in the next room over that taught me how to be a mother?
The very next evening, as Joshua came into this world and my heart did not split in half but instead grew exponentially, I understood. When Isaac came to the hospital to meet his brother, he immediately began referring to him as “my Joshie.” Nothing could have been sweeter.
Here I am, 8 weeks or so from adding a third son to our family. You would think by now I would understand that worrying about how it is all going to work out is for not. Yet, that is just what I am doing. Once again, I cannot wrap my brain around having enough love for another child. I can’t picture him yet or feel his chubby hand in mine. I can’t see a clear picture of what it will be like to have three sons and love them all so intensely. However, I know that it is going to happen. Sometime in the very near future, my heart will once again grow exponentially and make room for Elijah Harris. I am sure I will sit in that hospital room, staring into his eyes and wondering how our family would ever have been complete without him.
PS - read something today about having children that just blew me away, once again Amber nailed it. Go see for yourself.
Well the first day of school was exactly 3 weeks ago but I am finally getting around to posting about it. Isaac loves kindergarten so far, his BFF from pre-school is at the same school so he is a happy camper. Logan, is her name by the way, she is a spunky and adorable little 5 year old girl that can climb a tree as good as any boy I know. Isaac informed me recently that he was going to marry her. Upon inquiring why he felt she was “the one” he said: “Because she is funny, she can run really fast and she has cute headbands.” Perfect reasoning - don’t you think?
Anyway, here is the little man out front of his school on the first day:
Here he is posing at home before we left…couldn’t resist his like model-like pose:
Finally, as usual, Joshie needed in on the action:
Overall, the transition to “real school” has been great and once again, my fears and worries about transitions and schedules and such, were for not. I don’t know why I work myself into a frenzy over change because it usually ends up being less of a momentous thing than I imagined. Isaac loves being at school, Joshie loves having the run of the pre-school without a big brother to cramp his style. Life is good. Now let’s add another….
So late last week I shot 3 different pictures on 3 different days of my 29 week belly. Once I finally downloaded them I was shocked at how different they all look:
Version 1
Version 2
Version 3
Not sure if it is the clothes, the food I ate that day or what but what a difference a day makes!
One of my favorite websites is written by a girl named Amber. The other day I was on her site and she had linked to a site written by a girl named Sarah Markley. Just when I think the web is mostly pointless drivel and porn, writing like Sarah’s touches my heart and reminds me why I love to read blogs. Last week, Sarah told her story of adultry and how God used it to heal her marriage. You heard me right, God healed her marriage through a horrible sinful situation. He rocks and so does Sarah..Start with Part 1, I promise you won’t be disappointed.
Also, while spending time on Sarah’s site I came across some entries she had about attending a writing conference at Mount Herman in Santa Cruz. The next one is in March of 2010 and I am really considering going. Any other gals out there that want to go with me?
Look, I don’t mean to alarm you but apparently Bush era education policies have finally made their savage way to the world of children’s programming. It was announced today that after 26 years on the air, Reading Rainbow will be canceled this summer. In case you are staring at your computer wondering what in the world the pregnant lady is talking about, here this is for you:
So, back in the day when I would spend lazy summers vacillating between Barbie Beauty Salon imaginary play and the wide world of the boob tube, Reading Rainbow was a staple. In fact, for those of you who think of Lavar Burton as “Jordy” or whatever, I say…”take a look its’ in a book, Reading Rainbow.”
Because NPR can tie anything to politics, in their segment this morning about the cancellation of Reading Rainbow they mentioned that Bush education policies switched the reading focus to “learning to read” not “getting kids excited about reading.” Ugh. I guess to love something you have to know how to do it or whatever. Geez. So, long story short, shows about “loving reading” are simply a luxury we can’t afford as a society and we are all going to have to watch Super Why until we fall over dead. Yeah!
In its’ two decade run, Reading Rainbow earned two dozen Emmy’s and taught a lot of kids about how cool books can be. I was one of those kids, I bet you were too.
Butterfly in the sky, I can go twice as high
Take a look, it’s in a book - Reading Rainbow.
I can go anywhere!
Friends to know and ways to grow - Reading Rainbow.
I can be anything!
Take a look, it’s in a book - Reading Rainbow.
On any given day, my life is filled with the following “noises”
Joshua, upon waking, singing “little rabbit in the woods” and taking much time to emphasize the part about the hunter shooting him dead, ending with a lovely staccato note on “abide”
Isaac telling me that something isn’t safe
Isaac telling Joshua that something isn’t safe
Joshua telling Isaac that he is “weally, weally angwy wiff him”
Joshua asking if he can “cozy me”
Isaac telling me a joke, like this morning’s - “Hey Mom, what do you call two spiders who just got married?” …”Newly Webs! Ha ha ha, isn’t that so funny because it sounds like…..Hey Mom, what’s it sound like?”
The phone ringing with yet another collection agent for Maria-something or other- who used to have this phone number before me. Poor Maria must be in a heap of debt.
The theme song to Wow Wow Wubbzy…Wubbzy Wubbzy Wow Wow! Dear Jesus.
The sounds of two little boys laughing hysterically at something in their bunk beds while they are supposed to be sleeping. Whatever it is, it is so funny that Joshua is wheezing. Maybe the spider joke again?
The sound of silence as my little men have finally given in to sleep and are now sprawled like chubby starfish, arms above their heads, dreaming of their days.
The sounds of motherhood are unique in each house, yet all the same somehow.
Writing is my passion, my release, my salve. If I could find a way for it to pay the bills, I would. However, if that were the case there would be no such use for the term “starving artist.” Actually, I have never fancied myself to be artistic. I can’t sing, paint, draw or manage to create anything crafty beyond the 2nd grade level. I guess I’ve discounted writing as art, my brain housing only one definition of artistic and writing wasn’t in the small print. It is time for that definition to change.
When I was little and unbound by my definitions, I used to be very creative. I would make collages, I would build houses filled with happy people out of construction paper and old shoeboxes. I would marvel at my handiwork. I would spend hours hunched over a desk, no use for a clock, creating. As I grew, I looked around and saw that others were better than me at drawing, creating tangible art. I assumed that meant I wasn’t artistic or destined to be creative. I put down my markers, my colorful paper. I spent the next twenty years, hidden away in other peoples creative visions - books. I was friends with librarians, I would read 50 books a year. I learned to love words and how they can be spun together like wool to make a story that covers you, if only for a moment.
I would hide my visions away in notebooks meant for my eyes only. I called them journals and I wrote to no audience in particular. Fiction wasn’t for me, the story was always the same. Telling life as I see it, looking for the turquoise blue in my hands full of life’s sea glass, that came natural. Still, until I started this blog, it was only for me and I often judged the quality of the words before they spilled onto the paper.
Yet, when I think about what has always driven me, what has always inspired me and filled my soul, the answer falls like silver coins from a slot machine and fills the floor around me: write. There is art in words. I am an artist.
