A Letter To My Boys' Future Wives + Why I'm "A Mean-o"

Sometimes when I'm disciplining my boys, in the back of my head I'm thinking, "Gosh, if these kids persuade women to stick with them through marriage, I'm going to have to have honest talks with these women and say,

Look, we really did try. Some of our trying probably screwed them up, but you weren't there.

You weren't there when two of them both vehemently denied breaking XYZ no matter what the punishment was, and we had to punish both the same and HATED IT, but wanted them to not be flaming liars by the time you met them.
You weren't there when they got snippy and rude with me, or their brothers, and we made them write letters to each other and didn't let them do much else but breathe until their attitude improved, because we wanted them to not be cutting and cruel in their response to you at times when you need grace.
You weren't there when they damaged someone's property or hurt someone else's kid, so we sent them over with an apology letter and to do yard work for them for the afternoon because we didn't want them seeing others and other's belongings as worth less than their own.
You weren't there when they put their friends over their family and in response we made them miss the cool thing at the cool place because we want them to choose you over the new hotness that will always be out there, but never stay true.
You weren't there when they did the same thing we'd disciplined them about four times already, and we had to make the consequence so much harsher than before because they had to learn that the consequences as an adult are sometimes forever.
You're going to hear their side of all the stories from their childhood, and while sometimes it's going to look like I'm the meanest, often dysfunctional jerk of a mother, please know that every step of the damn way I just wanted them to not suck as a human and possibly be a great husband, so I did what I could with the tools I had. WE did what we could. You'll get and feel all of this if you have kids one day, and probably feel it all exactly if you mix genes with my kids. 😂 Tread carefully, girlfriend. 

Being a parent is so lovely when your kid is cute, snuggle, giggly, and you have the answer to their problem. But it's just as imperfect as I am--sin is there no matter what the age, and each sin ripples beyond the person sinning.

Now that my kids are 10, 8, and 5, I realize that the time I thought was the hardest --the nursingdiapersnosleepteethingwhatdoesthisfevermean stage-- was actually the piece of cake in some respect. I'm getting a full night's sleep now but the life lessons come HARD AND FAST and the pre-teen growing and stretching and testing are creeping in. The clothes are getting way too large and long, and the issues we talk about are often uncomfortable for me to pass over my lips.

And it's just started and almost over in the same breath. Jack is 10--five years to a learner's permit, but five years ago I watched him walk into school for the first time. He's more than halfway to being considered an adult. Wyatt's where Jack was five years ago, but my youngest baby who no longer needs baby things. I need absolutely nothing in the baby aisles at any store, and that's freeing and gaspy-cry-inducing all at the same time. What. Is. This. Parenting. Madness?!? How is it short and long, slow and fast, and makes me want to pause and fast-forward, depending on the breath we're taking?

I'm so blessed that I don't have to do it alone, and I have such a wonderful husband who doesn't buckle emotionally like I sometimes want to do. Conversely, he listens when I think maybe we need to consider it from a different angle, and we adjust. Thank you, John, for being the balance to the Force, whichever side that needs to be at the moment.

I'm also so very aware of the single parents out there who don't have that second voice and heart to balance the equation or get tagged out when their resources are drained. I see you. Hugs and high fives and pats to the behind for doing the hard thing when it feels all tight and panicky in your chest and you'd rather let it slide because you're exhausted but you don't because then your kids will grow up sucking. Thank you for persevering, because maybe your kids and mine will meet and because of our collective hard work, they can be decent people to each other most of the time.

To my babies,

I'm trying, dammit! You probably don’t like me most of the time, but you know without a doubt that I love you. You will also have limited tools if you choose to parent, and you'll feel like you're on a roller coaster against your will. It'll be thrilling and wonderful some of the time, and other times you'll just want to throw up and stop. The wonderful memories I've had raising you will always overshadow the hard moments I've had trying to not screw it up, because you're worth the stress and grey hair and "fine lines." I love you too damn much to stop being "a mean-o."

Love,

Mama

The First of the Ramblings

I’m not very good at writing just to write. I actually hate it. If I’m not forced to for an assignment, inspired by something ridiculous my kids have done, or filled with emotion, I’ll question every word I type. This is only the third sentence and I’ve backspaced 100 times already. But maybe there’s some worth in this. I’m going to give it a go. I'm not very disciplined and often only care about something until the novelty of it wears off and then it slides onto the never ending heap of "When I Have Time."

John tells me I should write, because he is inspired by my words. I don’t think I’m out of words, but as my kids are growing my material seems somehow lamer than before. I’m no longer stuck in the thick of the diapers and nursing and very little sleeping, which gave me so much material to reflect on and, honestly, complain about. My boys are a little older now, and less work in the physical sense. I no longer have a baby on my hip, a toddler in the basket of the cart, and a kindergartner racing about touching everything. It's different. Not easier. (Never easier.) Just different.

I feel like I am just peeking over the fence toward the next season of parenthood, into the deep molding of ethics, character, and drive. It’s way less physically exhausting, but the psychological and emotional exhaustion is unparalleled. Managing and taming that inner destructive voice these wild and handsome little men own is a huge challenge. I’m not good at demonstrating grace and patience, so I feel like I'm always hoping God and other people in my babies' lives will help fill the gap with goodness and helpful life lessons. Perhaps the angels God sends will diminish the amount of therapy my kids will need due to my own failings!

Parenthood is nothing like the brochure! There are plenty of snuggles and kisses and good teaching moments where no one is yelling or sarcastic or loudly sighing. But anywhere there are people, there is messiness and selfishness. We get tired, we get short, we get ugly sometimes. Feelings get hurt, apologies are deserved, and it becomes a whole circle tour on the struggle bus to pull those apologies out of our mouths.

No one really tells you when you're trying for kids--maybe out of a attempt to not be a naysayer, maybe because you'll never listen--that it's not the kids that are hard, it's the dying to self and growth as a parent and person that is insane. I don't think babies are hard, toddlers are hard, or even this preteen stage that my Jack is sliding one foot into. I think it's hard to feel prepared when you have no idea what's coming next. You honestly can't predict what's going to walk off that school bus and burst into the house. You don't know if you have an elated child who really connected with another kid and feels ten feet tall, or if one careless word from a classmate has made your son question their entire idea of worth. You have to be prepared to be present, whether just to listen and high-five, or to give guidance and encouragement.

I hope I'm doing better more times than not. I hope they remember the good, and pray that with perspective one day they will understand how easy it is to screw it all up, and how vital it is to keep trying. One day I pray they have beautiful squishy babes of their own and can experience all these joys and struggles. I cannot overstate the abundant joy!

Jack, Hunter, & Wyatt, I will fail you often, but I will always keep trying to give you what I believe is best for you. I work hard for you to see that I love all three of you, that I desire your company, and I am enamored with the beautiful personalities God gave you. You are so precious to me, and so markedly different from each other. I am amazed that Daddy and I could help make three vibrantly different sons with such a wide variety of interests, preferences, and perspectives. You have such worth and potential in this world, and it is my joy to live life with you while you become men. 
Love, your Mama.

Woah. Playing catch up is going to be a doozy.

*deeeeeeeeep breath* Holy cow, I've neglected this blog. I even forgot about it. Now we have three kids. Boys. Probably not going to have any more kids. Ouch. That hurts to type. We bought a home. I love it. I love the idealistic vision I have for it too, but I love it mostly now because we're all in it. Most of my record-keeping and memory-recording take place on facebook and via the emails I set up for each of the boys. If I could just ==pause== life for like three days, I'd love to get everything organized and wonderful for each son, but maybe that's what I get to do when they're grown. I hope. Jack is attending a charter school. He's adjusting, but the days are long. He has always been beloved to me, but nothing like NOW, since I say goodbye to him at 8 a.m. and don't see him again until 3 p.m. It's painful for both of us. I wish school was more efficient and was a half day no matter how old you are. Because I think it would be possible. Seven hours is a long time to be away from home when you're 6 years old. Jack is so big. Tall, lanky, gap-toothed as his two front teeth barrel through the small space to nudge and force their way front and center. He has a good sense of humor, is anal-retentive (dunno where he gets that from. seriously, it's both of us.), apologizes quickly, thinks creatively and constructively. He is amazing and I just want to cuddle with him, although it's hard because the kid is all sinew and bone. Hunter is my looooooove. His heart is ten sizes bigger than his own being. He cares, feels, loves so deeply. He ugly cries when he is disappointed. Everything is about whether it is "fair" in regards to Jack. But sometimes he exhibits such amazing understanding and compassion for others. He is charming, thoughtful, silly, and has crazy laughing eyes. I can't believe he is mine. He takes endless (and I mean ENDLESS)abuse from Wyatt as he constantly tries to love on him and Wyatt tries to pummel him. Yes, I had another child! Wyatt is a vivacious, passionate boy of 18 months. He is loud, silly, and has a very strong will. He slaps me sometimes just to gauge my reaction. He is fearless. He can outshout everyone in our house. He "gives loves" after he hits you, which I guess I try to treasure as a trade off. John and I will be married 10 years in July. God, that's a long time. Long and WONDERFUL, of course. ;) Enough for tonight. At least I got something down here.

6 months later...my heart explodes

Estrogen.
Pretty much the best and worst thing to happen to humanity. On one hand, nobody can function correctly without the appropriate "pinch" of it. On the other hand, it causes all sorts of problems. Like puberty. Then, pregnancy. Or like ME, weeping at the thought that one day my babies won't need me to put blankets on them at night. (Because I'm not a creeper like in Love You Forever. I'm not the mama who drives to my son's house, unstraps the ladder from the roof of the station wagon and climbs in his apparently unlocked window so I can rock him, singing a lullaby. I'm not that mama. YET.)
Yes, I'm blaming estrogen here.

Today (yesterday by the time I finish this) my "tiny" love is 6 months old. Not many people care. I don't mean that in a pity-me or any other sort of way. It's like telling people it's your XX-year wedding anniversary. You pretty much go, "Oh! Congrats..." and then go back to checking facebook and getting dinner ready. Unless you're this tiny love's mama. Then you look over at his chubby delicious cheeks and beautiful, God-sculpted smile and the estrogen damn near creates a supernova of warm fuzzy baby-loving intensity.
Watch out, world!

(Yes, I know that STILL only like four of you know Hunter's birth story. And I know, by how loudly you're all clamoring for the details, that like only four of you really care and maybe a couple more are mildly interested. Whatever. It bothers me that I haven't told you because I'm trying to be consistent with how I ooh and ahh over each child. I'm already failing, LOL. 'Cause you're not getting that story today!)

Dear little Hunter,

You are so sweet. You are truly a good-natured child. The skinny, womb-folded version of you gave way (soooo quickly) to the current plump version of you that causes estrogen supernovas in all the women in our lives. You eat like every meal is your last. Strangely I'm not getting any thinner because of that, so please don't be so very different from your brother that you take all the water and leave the calories 'cause I was banking on the passive weight loss!
Your knuckle-dimples make me cry (everything makes me cry) because they are fleeting, special, squishy. Your toes are like little caterpillars. Your eyes light up like a Christmas tree whenever someone acts foolish for your sake. Your smile explodes when Jack talks to you or runs around like a crazy person to entertain you.
I stop and close my eyes when I hear you babbling in the other room (I stopped doing that when you babble in the car, trust me...) because I want to take that moment and somehow fold it into a little square...a Viewfinder disc for later, complete with smells and sounds and feelings. I LOVE my life with you, with Jack, with Daddy. You are evidence of the fact that life goes by so fast that I can't catch up.
I hold you and feel your super soft skin and already notice how weathered my own skin is. Am I really nearly 30? How does that happen to a person? That's so...decidedly grown up and irrevocably adult. I am so happy that I have given this world two great lights so far, you and Jack. I'll do my damnedest to raise you to be wise and committed to God.
Hunter Cole, I love you. I love love love love love you. I love that you're here and that the Lord has given me all these hours with you. Sometimes I'm shaken with fear, knowing that bad things can happen to anyone, good or bad, Christian or not, and I squeeze you and your brother and Daddy, praying that I never have to go through losing any of you. It would be too hard to breathe.
Happy half-birthday, sweet one. I will sleep now and cuddle you in a few hours when you crave mama and milk and warmth and all things safe.

Love, Mama.

If I Forget To Write Things Down...(freakishly long post)

...then they just disappear forever. Seriously. I promised that my "next post" would tell you all about Hunter's birth story, but it won't. And Hunter will be 5 months on May 3rd...so you see how ridiculously LAME I've been about documenting our little lives here. I think, if we didn't have the internet (and I'm not BLAMING the internet, just my addiction to/reliance on it), then I think I could actually keep a written diary of some sort. That's the only way I'd have time. But then, I am typing this at nearly midnight just because, for the moment, NO MALES OF ANY AGE NEED ME RIGHT NOW. Unless Hunter wakes up. Or John realizes I'm not in bed and lumbers down the hall to make sure I'm not dead. Or the covers fall off of Jack. But not right now.

So. I am 29. John is 26. Jack is nearly 3. Hunter is nearly 5 months. We're all alive, well, and entirely too well-fed compared to the rest of the world. We are not even close to rich, yet our essential needs are met. We have family close by who invite us into their lives constantly and love our sons. We're so grateful. We have many friends, even though this thing called parenthood clog life enough that we don't get to see each other ever. We are on facebook enough that we could probably get a whole lot more done if we weren't. Feel updated yet?

Didn't think so.

How do I catch up from this gap? The delivery of Hunter and the four and half month since...I don't know if I can! Well, I will try, but not tonight. Instead, I'm going to jump right in to today, to NOW. Because if I spend ten posts updating you, I'll still have missed documenting what's going on NOW. And I have an incessant, nagging need to document the now because it is flying by at a speed incalculable by human means. Seriously.

Jack looks more and more like a boy every day...and now that I have Hunter I can barely believe that Jack was once at that stage. Now that I stare at Hunter for hours a day, Jack's baby pictures look funny to me--a baby I once knew, but is now morphed into a tall, slender blond-haired boy with stinky feet who refuses to be potty-trained and smells all of sweat and none of baby goodness anymore. He is not even technically 3 yet and has just graduated to 4T clothing. He wears size 10 shoes. He stands on a stepstool to brush his teeth right next to me. He can fetch "baby diapers" and "Jack diapers" for me. He says "thank you, mommy" and "awwwwwww I love you, mommy."

But he's not an angel. Right now he's in a weird phase where he will smack himself when disciplined. Makes for great scenes in public. And he sasses back, which I haven't found an effective discipline for. I get a lot of "You no touch-a me, mommy!" when I try to hold his hand or "You no say that!!! (dinosaur roar)" And he physically runs from me when he knows he's in trouble.

Jack can't look for a toy in a toybox. He empties the whole box and spreads the contents around the room first.
Music used to be "mitch" then turned into "muse-kit." :)
I have caught him several times laying on his stomach with his face in the dog's water bowl, lapping at it with his tongue. Ew. He will also try to sniff things by putting his face down on the floor next to the item, then picking it up with his teeth.
His fear of flies "bees!" seems to have subsided from the epic proportions we had grown accustomed to.
He willingly goes to bed after a bath, teeth-brushing and 2-3 stories. We turn the hall light on and he can quietly sit or lie in bed with the books he was read until he wants to go to sleep.
He is constantly following me around to see how he can help me. "I help you? Djyou need help?"
He LOVES Hunter with an amazing passion. His first thought when he gets up is to run into our room to see if the baby is awake. He will open our door and check to see if Hunter or I am moving. If so, he'll bound onto our bed asking, "Baby awake? I see a baby? I kiss a baby?" Now he's also useful when I can't get to Hunter right away and he can sort of be the court jester, distracting Hunter with his words and dancing and toys.
He has seemingly limitless patience with Hunter so far as long as he doesn't grab one of Jack's toys.

Hunter is just...well, fat. LOL He's well over 20 pounds and wearing 9-12 month clothing. His torso looks like one of those roasting chickens you buy. His legs look like turkey legs. (Shut UP, I'm not a cannibal. These are just good visual examples. Despite how he looks, we are not basting him with butter. I'm out of butter.)

He is definitely, BY FAR an easier baby than Jack was. This, I'm sure, is a combination of me not being a new mom and him just seriously being more laid-back. A couple days ago we were all going home in the van and Hunter had decided to cry from the AV Mall all the way home to Challenger and I. We just kept driving home, but John and I had to chuckle for a moment because when Jack had done that sort of thing years ago, we pulled over so I could nurse or change him. Now we're fairly convinced that a baby can survive a few moments of crying, so Hunter got to wail during our drive.

Hunter JUST started rolling over from back to tummy--yay!!! BUT we aren't yet at the stage where he can roll back, so all day now he is rolling onto his tummy, then becoming FURIOUS because he's done with being in that position, I flip him over and he immediately flips back and starts the process again. It drives me batty, but I'm so proud of him growing up.

Well, this is long enough. Let me wrap it up with my customary love notes:

Jack,
You are such a joy with your goofy grin and your imagination. Today I told you to eat your dinner and you told me you couldn't because you didn't feel good. I asked you what hurts (expecting you to tell me it was your tummy or throat or something). You told me it was your leg where you had a teeny tiny scratch but scabs currently freak you out a bit. That's why you couldn't eat your food. Over a scratch. I love your love for all things boy: trucks and trains, dinosaurs and dirt. I'm so proud of you. You make me feel "bree-full-o" everyday.
Love, Mama

Hunter,
You are such a chub of amazingness. I can't believe it's been nearly five months. Ridiculous. Of course, now you weigh enough to equal three of you at birth, which is shocking. It is so wonderful to again have a baby because it's a real confidence booster for someone to grin and coo and giggle and have a full-body glee spasm just because I walked into the room! (Daddy loves me and all, but after six years we're a little more comfortable with each other for that sort of behavior. Hee hee!) Having another baby makes going to the store a very tiring event, but I love taking you out because everyone who sees you just loves you! I'm so excited to watch you grow and for you to be a little playmate for Jack! I love you, "tiny" love. I'm all twitterpated over you.
Love, Mama

41 weeks: Everyone needs to quiet down!

Okay, so I'm writing this waaaaaaay after week 41. Say, week 46ish. But I have GOT to catch up. It makes me very sad that I haven't kept up with this documentation of Hunter's little life...well, of all of our lives. And I know that, try as I may, I won't remember so much that has gone by already, even if I document some of it.

Week 41 was very difficult for me. No, not because I was late. I wasn't worried about being late. I was worried about everyone ELSE being worried about being late. Because the later it got, the fussier people got. Ironically, after NINE MONTHS of waiting, every day after my very-rough-estimate "due date" was TOO LONG TO WAIT!!!! TOO LONG!!! You know, I'd read about fudging the due date to people...like, telling your friends and family that you were one week "earlier" than you were, so no one got a chance to bug you because the baby came "early"!
Yeah, I should have done that. Because I had to quit facebook at one point just to stop justifying myself and feeling like I was failing when I had no reason to feel that way.

I can't even point out any specific remark (aren't YOU all grateful!) that put me on edge. Honestly, it was the combination of my own anxiety with anything anyone said, good or bad. I was worried about Hunter being late because I was having him in the hospital and doctors are (sometimes understandably) fussy when your baby seems "overcooked"...but often it's a liability issue.

Now, Dr. Kurian was WONDERFUL at the birth (as you'll read in another post). SIMPly WONDERful. But his nurse asked me if I wanted to schedule an induction. Before I was due. I was actually 39 weeks. And healthy. No complications except Group B Strep Positive, which isn't an issue really. So it irritates me GREATLY that they would encourage scheduling an intervention so routinely without there being any cause whatsoever. I get it if I had gestational diabetes and was going blind. That I get. But for a healthy mom with a healthy baby, who could naturally give birth (as I did) at least two weeks after her "due date." Grrrrr....

But I digress. Or complain. Both, probably.

So on Wednesday of week 41 I went in for a non-stress test. "Non-stress" is definitely a misnomer for me. Because I was beyond stressed. Not because I was worried about Hunter. I had no signs to indicate that Hunter was unwell. I was worried that perhaps Hunter would not put on a "good show" and make people worried when he was really doing just fine.

So, for the first time during my pregnancy at any doctor's visit, my blood pressure was really high. Then the nurse had me lay on my back, which hurt my hips and lower back like you can't even believe. Then they can't get a good reading off one machine. Like, it just broke. Then they wheel a second machine in. Which stops printing. Thankfully, Dr. Kurian came in, looked at the results on the monitor and deemed everything fine. But I would have to come in the next day for an ultrasound to monitor amniotic fluid, then again the day after for another non-stress test.

That night I felt little pains that came sort of regularly, which I "walked off" around Jill's pool table after dinner. But it tapered off. I woke up the next morning to Dr. Kurian's office postponing the ultrasound to Friday, which suited me just fine. I'd been drinking LOTS of water to make sure my fluid was good, but it's not like that would hurt me. I just had to pee a lot!

I kept feeling little pains off and on that day, which was exciting but I tried not to get too excited. I knew it could stop and I didn't want to get disheartened. So I tried to test Murphy's Law. I started making poultry stock with turkey and chicken carcasses. It takes six hours to make poultry stock and I figured that if this was real labor, it would interfere with my six hour time period and I'd much rather sacrifice a pot of stock (sad as it would be) in order to get the baby out! Around 3 p.m. I decided to start keeping track of the contractions seriously! And...you'll have to find out the rest in the next post! *grin*

40 weeks: I'm ready!

Well, Tuesday, Nov. 23rd is the big day! But only big-ish. Because Hunter may not come then. He probably won't. But that does mark the 9-months of active people-building on my part, which is pretty impressive. God lets us make our own people! How awesome is that?!?

So I would like to state that this pregnancy has officially been different than the last in that the last trimester has been MORE DRAMATIC THAN COULD EVER BE EXPECTED. --My photography business took off (a GOOD thing, but makes for a busy me!) and I am STILL editing shoots from my uber-busy October.
--John and I made some crucial financial decisions.
--We had to move on Nov. 6th (thank you landlords...), which is NOT what a nesting mama wants to do! We are still unpacking (and probably will be for awhile) but had some awesome people come help us out--friends and family which are all amazing in my book.
--My grandpa passed away yesterday.
--My grandma is very sick.
--Thanksgiving is Thursday.
--We found out that John has to go to Minnesota for manager training (good thing) in January (at least not this month or next month) for THREE WEEKS (bottom lip quivering).
I am officially ready to not have any more drama, good or bad. But I am ready to have this baby!

I am still editing the last two boudoir sessions I shot (the day before we moved, I should add). My plan/hope/wish is that I get all the photo stuff done and in client's hands before I have Hunter. Had we not had to move, that would have been nearly effortless, but having to stop all post-processing for packing and unpacking was a serious problem! Thankfully all my clients are extremely patient with me. <3

Tonight I finished packing everything for the hospital trip...the whole while thinking that this is DEFINITELY one of the reasons to have a baby at home. Ridiculous to do all this packing for a spontaneous trip that has no set length mere miles from my house. Ugh. But, then, I would have had to to about half of this packing anyway as a backup. So I am ready. We would have about half an hour of scurrying around the house collecting things like toothbrushes and cell phone chargers, but the bulk of it is done. Thank God.

We have Jack packed with sensible things like clothes and diapers, but also my childhood suitcase (that bears the phrase "going to grandmas" on the side) full of new little treats for him to enjoy/stuff to keep the grandparents sane while he really wants Mama. I bought him a picture book, a book called "If I Could Keep You Little" which makes me so sentimental I don't know if I'll ever read it to him, a set of Crayola Color Wonder markers and paper, a Thomas the Train DVD and a Thomas the Train book that plays music. AND a slew of plastic dinosaurs and we'll throw in trucks and cars last minute. I hope he enjoys them. :) I hope he goes to sleep for everyone fairly easily.

My little love has been so sweet when he's not a holy terror for being the age he's at. The social and verbal connections he's making blows me away, but he's still just a wee boy and still wants me to hold him. "Mama, hold you?"

When we go through animal sounds he'll start with, "Howwww bowwwwwt...a cow? Mooooooooooo!!!!! Howwww bowwwwt...a sheep? Baaaaaaaaa!!!"

When I found out grandpa died I cried for about half an hour. Jack came in and saw me, then said, "Right back, Mommy. Teh-EE bear." He found his white teddy bear and gave it to me to make me feel better. How sweet!

Last night when I tucked him in bed, I leaned down to give him a kiss. He grabbed both sides of my face and put my head near his nose, breathed in and said, "Mommy spmell nice." He kicked off his blanket (which he used to call "gank," then "ganket" and now it's "mangknet") but five minutes later asked for it back, whispering, "Please Mommy, mangknet." After I draped it over him he whispered, "Thank oooo, Mommy" and fell asleep.

Tonight he didn't want to sleep in his bed, but on the floor where I normally sit or lie down on another pillow next to his bed until he falls asleep. So we cuddled there and he told me how all the characters from the show "Kipper" were sleeping, individually. Then he put his hand on my cheek and fell asleep. :)

If he hears a sound from John or I when we're out of sight, he will come over to us and ask "Mommy/Daddy okay?"

He will often hug my tummy ("the baaaaaaby") and rub it or kiss it. Last night he showed Hunter his book and all the animals in it.

We have not tried to actively potty-train, but he's to the point now that he will tell me most of the time when he needs a new diaper. This only works if it's a pee diaper. If he poops, he'll hide and cry saying "Hurts!" because, obviously, if he doesn't tell me and I don't notice, it isn't comfortable for me to clean him when it's been there for a few minutes. I am looking forward to potty training him, but not worried about it for awhile, given the change of moving and the coming change of Hunter arriving.

I know this post is long. It's long for me, not you. Because I won't remember all of this stuff, but if I type it, I will remember it again later. So if you're still here, I'm going to talk about my pregnancy too.

I have finally reached a point that I'm getting weary of being pregnant. I really do love being pregnant, as I've said before, and I know I'm lucky because some women have a miserable time. Sometimes I'm miserable, but the good always outweighs the bad for me.

I love the small amount extra of attention.
I love the loose waistlines and no expectations for me to LOSE weight.
I love that I remember to take better care of myself because there is a helpless person inside me that needs that.
I love feeling the baby move, 'cause no one else can experience it like I can.

But I think I'm okay if he comes out now. My hips hurt a lot when I'm in any position for two long. It's hard to change position, especially in bed. Just today I've had to pee probably 20 times, each time just a trickle. That gets really old. Especially when it feels like OMG-if-I-don't-pee-I'll-just-die. And that's even more difficult when I have to heave my giant self out of our super-soft mattress to do it! Hunter is way TOO strong to be kicking me for very much longer. It's painful sometimes. I'm tired of sharp, stabbing pain here and there and WAY down there. I'm tired of heartburn that shows up BEFORE I eat. Seriously.

So, Hunter, you can show up anytime. Your Daddy has been anxious to hold you for weeks, especially this past week. Everyone's excited to meet you and I can easily psych myself out when I think about going through labor, so if you could just come, we could get it over with and I could just meet you and love you and feed you 10,000 times each day. And love it. Love you, tiny one.

38ish weeks: Running out of time?

So we've moved! We're at our new house, which is kinda close to the Desert Vineyard. It's nice and seems to be big enough to hold our stuff. The compromise has been in one less bedroom (yet more square footage) and closets about half the size in the non-master bedrooms (tear...). My house is a disaster, although I nearly have the "social areas" ready for the general public. The kitchen is nearly put together, minus random junk that I should just sweep into the trash since I can't remember what's still out till I look at it. The dining room table is set up and looks pretty--I can look at it and feel like there's some semblance of order here. The only real disasters are the office and the boys' room, but that shouldn't take too long to organize, given that I have help coming over soon! I am happy we've moved, although I keep going on "auto-pilot" to the old house.

I am not unhappy as a pregnant lady still, but more of a worrisome one. The baby is doing fine...Hunter is huge and strong and shows me nearly every moment that he's doing great. I am just antsy to get all my photo editing done so I can really, actually rest after I give birth and let my only care be the occasional bill and facebook updates for you nosy people out there. :) I am finishing one wedding, one birth, three family shoots and I think SEVEN boudoir shoots! October was really GOOD to me but this move really put a kink in my workflow! So I am letting my mind gel back into place here for a moment as pictures upload, then back to work!

Jack seems to be doing really well to the adjustment, even though he has gotten really bossy over the past few days. Lots of "Get me water, Mama." and "No! Move over!" So either our move has coincided with a burst of independence and brattiness or it's just the adjusting that is bringing out this curious side to him. If we go near the old house he shouts "Yay! Old house!" which makes me kinda sad. And other times he asks to go to the "New-d house" which kinda makes me laugh, since it basically sounds like "nude house." Which then makes me laugh at the irony since I'll be doing boudoir shoots here and--well, you get it. LOL!

As far as labor and delivery are concerned, I have half my hospital bag packed. I still need to get some essentials like comfy clothes and underclothes for myself. I have all the goodies for Jack's survival pack purchased, but need to get some snacks and such too. Oh, and pack clothes and diapers and all that crap. School the babysitters-to-be on car seat installation. Pray that I go into labor after Jack has already gone to bed and is exhausted enough to sleep till the morning. Stuff like that. Basically if I go into labor now, I'll be scurrying around for awhile getting stuff ready. It irritates me greatly that I HAVE to have a to-go bag since I really wish I was giving birth at home, but that's more of a wish like "I'd love to go skydiving sometime" than a "I am freaking out and can't handle this choice" at this time. *shrug* I'll just try to save up (ha!) for the next one so we can have a midwife for the third baby.

37 weeks: Out of my flippin' mind

So I don't think this will be quite as long as the others because my life is crazy and I should be packing. Yes, packing. We found out about a week and a half ago that our landlord pulled the plug on our month-to-month contract and wants us out by Nov. 30th. Of course, we're not going to WAIT that long because baby Hunter is DUE Nov. 23rd. Ugh! I guess it's better that we didn't just have Hunter and it be almost Christmas when we had to uproot. But that is a small consolation.
We DID find a place, near the Desert Vineyard in a pretty little cul-de-sac. We're excited because there's new carpet, tile, paint and kitchen appliances! We're going from $950 to $1100 but I believe that's doable.
NOW it's a race against time because we're already paying rent for the new place and each day we're at the old place we'll be billed against our deposit. And I really want more money back than less, you know? So we're moving THIS FRIDAY AND SATURDAY, then collapsing Sunday.
I'm trying to pack everything, but I'm fairly useless (read: slow) at doing everything. Take my friend, Melissa, who came over and in ONE HOUR packed Jack's whole room. That would have taken me like three hours, not counting breaks. I love bossy, motivated, NOT pregnant women. :) (Thank you, Melissa!)

On the "merely" pregnant front, I am doing well. Hunter is kicking me like crazy and my stomach has relocated to my throat, causing the mere thought of food to create a firestorm of heartburn the world has never seen. Good thing I love things like fruit juice, tomatoes and spicy food, huh? But I don't even think it matters. I got heartburn from bananas yesterday...it clearly matters not what slides down my gullet.
I have to keep moving or changing positions or my joints settle into that position permanently. I'm basically the Tin Man.
I found three little stretchmarks. I'm happy with that. No more stretching, Hunter. No more!
Today the baby email says that Hunter could pop out and would be considered A-OK for the world. Oh please oh please oh plEASE take your time in there, kiddo! I want you on time, or slightly late. I really don't have time or the mental/physical/emotional energy to do all the stuff I'm doing AND have a baby (which then becomes me not doing ANY of the stuff I'm doing EXCEPT having the baby).

My photography business is doing GREAT, praise God! If I wasn't moving then I would just happily sit at home, enjoying my blessed maternity leave, cheerfully editing pictures at my leisure (and the "leisure" of a toddler). Instead I pack like a madwoman then take my "breaks" by collapsing on the couch with the laptop to edit edit edit edit EDIT! I really, truly love my job. Honestly I do! I am just amazed at how much work I have to do right now and I'm so SO SO grateful to my clients for being patient. :)

Alright, this is long enough. See you next week. Maybe.

35 Weeks: my little love and my tiny love

Time is definitely rushing by. My photo business is booming and I have more work coming in than I may have logical time to edit! (Never fear, clients: it will be done!) I praise the Lord for the opportunity to bless so many people and help support my famiy as well.

At the same time, it seems like time is crawling by. I am in a hurry (read: nesting) to get everything set up and just SO for this tiny love. I want the bassinet next to my bed, ready to go. I want the second dresser in the boys' room (boys? BOYS!!!!! PLURAL!!!) and the crib set up and the clothes all washed and organized by size so I can take inventory on what I have. I can't decide where to put Jack's bookcase or whether to put a chair in their room or put the changing table there...although I really don't use a changing table, so that answers that.

I want it all set up...maybe because I want this new one in my arms and maybe if I get it all done then he can come out! I'm not saying I'm done being pregnant. I LOVE being pregnant, even with the fairly persistent heartburn/gas/aches & pains that I experience. I'm just in a hurry to see his beautiful face and make sure he's okay.

Let me explain.

I'm certain that this tiny love of mine is perfect in every way. God created him and I know he's exactly as God expected, so I should not expect less. However I tend to be a glutton for punishment and wander on the internet...often not on purpose. For example, through one blog I follow I have found another blog that makes me cry. And I was reading a photography e-newsletter I get that featured an article written by this girl whose baby went Home in January.

And my heart breaks.

If there's anything I could say I don't understand (respectfully) on this earth, it's how the human heart can handle such a loss. Even made in God's image (and I'm the roughest sketch of THAT image, let me tell you), I can't believe that God's grace can sufficiently carry us through such difficult times as the loss of a child. Now I'm not sitting here expecting this tiny one to up and die on me. I'm NOT!!! I sometimes just feel...a little too blessed when I see others hurt. I'm not saying I deserve less, but my heart wants to heal their wounds and I feel a pinch ashamed at getting to have what I want when others cannot. You don't have to make me feel better--I don't feel BAD--I've just had these people on my heart lately and need to vent a little.

All that to say, I praise God for the blessing of Jack and the blessing of this tiny love inside me. I feel more fortunate than ever before, than in any other stage of my life. I am writing this and Tiny Love is rolling and kicking and moving about, telling me, "Mama! I'm doing okay!!! I'm healthy and happy and I can't wait to meet you!" And when I come home Jack will yell, "Mommy's home!!!" and give me a big hug and really that's so so SOOOOOO much to take in each day that my heart overflows. Thank you, amazing, astounding, ever-present God, who has blessed me with so much despite my gross failures and shortcomings! So much pregnancy hormones right now, but it's good!!!

Jack is completely adorable. His presence in my life teaches me something every day (sometimes the same things repeatedly as I either forget that he is the age he is or forget that I am the age I am). I am constantly surprised at how innocent a child's love is, how pure their motivations are, how sincere their love is. I am so impressed with him, and not just because he's just totally awesome in general. I am amazed that he is growing so tall and strong. His vocabulary is taking off astronomically and he absorbs SO MUCH of what we say around him! He is learning things that I though he'd never catch on to, like using tissues to wipe his nose (THANK G.O.D.) or following specific directions to get something for me.

I want to capture all the wonderful little ways he talks:

"Mommy, whaddya-doindere?" (What are you doing there?) to check on me.
"C'mon, Mommy, build/draw/truck/cars/sit."
"Mommy shower. Mommy all done shower. My shower too! Mommy dressed."
Anytime he wants something he will say "My hungry/step/jump/car/drive/draw/watch/etc too."
Now that he listens to what we say all the time I realize I'm a loud driver. He will shout behind me:
"GO CAR GO!!!!" "C'mon!!!" ....Gotta watch that, huh?

He has started to take what he sees on the few cartoons he watches and actually talk about them throughout the day. He likes watching Caillou, which is a Canadian cartoon featuring a 4-year-old bald kid named Caillou. I don't know why this kid doesn't have any hair, and he whines a lot, but often the show teaches good points. Anyway, there's a set of twins that Caillou has as neighbors in the show named Jason and Jeffrey. Jack will talk about them while playing with cars or blocks.
"Hi Caillou! Hi Jason! Hi Jeffrey! Jason and Jeffrey house. Jason and Jeffrey eat. Pizza..."
It's cute that he has started to carry things with him like that

He intently watches John play video games. I have mixed feelings about it, but if it's not gory and there's no foul language then I mind less. Jack will intently look for his "troller" (controller) so he can help Daddy play, or just cut to the chase and grab one of his plastic water guns or Pirate of the Caribbean Disney pistol and shoot the bad guys, even going so far as to whirl his hands around where you'd put the powder as if to load it. Pretty much anything sticklike he will use as a weapon though. It doesn't take much!

That's it for this week!
Little love, I can't wait to hold you after work today!
Tiny love, I am so glad my belly is holding you now...but I can't wait to have you in my arms!

33 weeks: Lots of emotion (whining)

Please forgive the complete disregard for order in this post. Many of you may be used to it and wouldn't have noticed anything unusual, but I felt apologetic for once. Which leads to the topic of emotion.

I am officially a mess. I am at a stage I recognize well, where I am emotional, unrealistic and have low self-esteem. I am not writing this so you will say, "Oh, Elaine, I never noticed your butt was big. It's just the pregnancy hormones. Don't worry...when you have two boys you won't ever get to sit down and it'll just work itself off." Thank you, imaginary comment. :\
What I mean is I am starting to dislike things about my body that I am normally able to just...well, ignore. Or give up on (read: accept). My front side now matches my backside, but the back isn't cute. I mean, no one is squealing with delight and asking to rub my bottom in any capacity. But that's okay. I'm at peace with that.
I dislike my hair, which is stupid since my hair is great with all the hormones and my body's "hold-on-to-every-strand"ishness that comes with this baby bump.
I feel very plain when I see myself in photos. Maybe I'm really getting to the topic of self-esteem rather than emotion? I'm proud of my belly, my baby, my family, my home (if you don't look in any other room but the one I sit you down in). Just not really myself today. It's just not working for me.

At least I don't have any new stretch marks.

Yet.

But my belly button looks weird. It sticks out at the top, but sinks in at the bottom. It's as if it wants to be an outie but the incredible WEIGHT from my baby/souvenir-from-Jack-and-last-Christmas is dragging it down.

OKAY! Enough. On to brighter subjects. Like how I'm doing psychologically. A real, page-scroller, you can guess.

I'm...well, stressed. Okay, I'm happy, but stressed. Anxious? There's a lot to worry about, mostly manufactured worries in my head.

*Money. 'Nuff said. Why can't I substitute teach with a newborn? LOL I canNOT imagine nursing in front of 20 teenage boys. Nope!
*How will I ever get Jack to bed early enough so John and I can actually spend some quality time together? Schedules don't stick...our days change and it all depends on whether he has a nap. Sometimes he doesn't nap but is firmly against going to sleep after he's become delirious, dramatic and angry (or is that me?). Sometimes he konks out in the 1/2 mile between my mom's house and mine and he is thus unrousable for 90 minutes. Then John is asleep before Jack falls asleep and I feel like my evening was wasted. How will this work with the new baby?
*I am a defeated nester. Read that as: constantly irritated by the condition of my home but stopped short by my utter lack of energy by the time I'm home. The rental we're in came with big stains in the carpet and I can't STAND IT!!! It's getting worse as I get closer to my due date. One day I may just rip it all out. Just kidding, John.
*We aren't eating healthy enough. I feel like I've failed taking care of this baby as opposed to how I took care of Jack in utero. I'm lucky if I take my prenatals some days and with Jack I was downing (healthy) pills like an addict. I'm afraid of the potential guilt I'll have if this baby isn't as healthy.
*I wandered too far in the Internet universe and found websites and stories the broke my heart about certain little babies. In the words of Cookie Monster, "That DUMB thing to do!!!" Now I have more fears, or at least my heart cries out to the families and I wonder why I am so blessed to have Jack and been able to hold and giggle and snuggle him for so long.

(You realize with Jack I kept a private diary on my computer and with this one I haven't had time or made the effort or some other guilt-inducing excuse, so this is why you're reading all this crap.)

Physically, I'm doing as well as I'd expected. I feel "trimmer" than with Jack, but that's probably just because now that I've BEEN pregnant, I am expecting my whale-shaped figure to return. I'm more like an orca this time. I know that counteracts all the self-esteem stuff I said at the beginning, saying I'm smaller when I just whined to you about how big I am. Shut up.
I get lots of twinges and sharp pains, "welded" joints when I stay in a position too long and back pain. I usually only get headaches when I work at Littlerock High. Interesting. I get heartburn a lot...I think my stomach is actually located just below my throat. If I bend down to pick something up, I feel heartburn. Ridiculous!

This tiny bear is more like a wildcat. A wildcat that's been poked with sticks. He moves ALL the time. Big, sweeping body twirls. Tiny, piercing elbow drags. Weird hand movements. The loud cries. Just making sure you're paying attention. ;) But, really, if I'm TOO hungry, then he is a tornado of hungry anger. He will kick and punch and twirl and make it KNOWN that he is not happy. Or maybe my stomach is empty and he's taking advantage of the extra centimeter of space. Never thought of that... Either way, I am terrified to think about taking too long to nurse this little kid!

I have more to write on my little baby bear but I'll save it for next week...suffice it to say that he's adorable and precocious and I'm in love with him, even if he's always futilely challenging my authority. And he found a permanent marker a few days ago. But he's my joy, my favorite (for now), my love.

32 weeks: My hiccupping jicama

Alas, I forgot to blog about last week, so I will catch up.

I have a hiccupping jicama. They say he's a jicama-sized kiddo and just when we made the discovery, the hiccups soon followed! Sort of natural, no?

I don't have much to say, since what I want to say applies to week 33, but I wanted his sweet little week documented, even if it is a grossly inadequate record.

Love you, tiny bear. For you see we have a Daddy bear, a Mama bear and a baby bear already (toddler bear sounds stupid), so you have to be tiny bear. I guess the next one will have to be a girl so we can call her Goldilocks. :)

30 Weeks: Bulldozer Baby

This baby is moving and turning and kicking and all sorts of things all day long. I love it. It's so nice to be reminded of this little life within me throughout the day. How strange to hae a living being within me! He is head-down already and I know right where his feet are...right at the top of my belly! There is a spot I can push and he almost always pushes right back. I'm happy that he's already in position and "organized" although I know he could move. It DOES makes me think about what I don't have ready yet if this baby comes early... Honestly I'm glad that this is my second baby because I am relaxed enough to know that there is only half an hour between being unprepared and having a pack of newborn diapers and the bassinet set up. :) What a blessing to be a mama-to-be for the second time!

Our biggest hurdle right now is simply picking a name. We have some options on our list, but we haven't settled on anything concrete. We have a name pool going so people can bet $5 on possible combinations from our lists and could possibly win a lot of money if they're right! (Contact Jill Moran or Melissa Jackson Pleer on my friend list for the chart and more details.) Of course, now that I've given them my first and middle name lists, I keep hearing other names that I'm not opposed to. I'm going to mess it all up, I know it. LOL

I am feeling pretty good now. I walk a little slower and occasionally I have aches and pains that feel quite foreign to me, but nothing impossible to bear. Painting my toenails is a long ordeal because I have to pause and lean back for air! The polish definitely has time to dry between coats! I think so far the hardest things for me are having the energy/willpower to keep up with housecleaning, to turn over in the middle of the night or get up period, and--honestly--to put on pants!

I will say that it seems to be much harder this time around to take good care of myself. I think it's because I'm doing so much more than during Jack's pregnancy that I forget. I forget prenatal vitamins occasionally. I forget to drink enough water. I forget to eat lots of protein. I DO however feel much more confident in my ability to get through this labor. I have studied much more about labor to realize what my uterus is doing and how to relax through a contraction (efficiency is yet to be seen, of course, but I'm so excited about the Bradley method!). I feel more confident that I WILL survive the actual delivery and very sure of what I want to happen/not happen during my labor/birth, barring honest complications. That helps to overcome the anxiety that lingers over the hospital birth issue.

That's about it this week! I'm so happy to be a mama!

29 weeks: To-dos pile up as I slow down

I am officially starting to slow down. Or, rather, become encumbered with this belly. I'm waddling about, amazed that this belly will get BIGGER, amazed that, as our little weekly baby update tells us, this baby will probably triple it's current weight of about 3 lbs. !!! I am amazed that these weeks are flying by and my time of "rest" (insert maniacal laughter here) is coming so quickly!

I'm worrying about all the normal things: going through labor again, going to the hospital this time and how that experience will be, the what-to-dos with Jack when that time comes, the financial end of the whole thing, taking care of TWO instead of one. I know I'm not alone in these worries and not all of these will be resolved as this baby appears. But I have had an overwhelming peace for the past, oh, three months. I don't get it and I could attribute it on pregnancy hormones or a positive attitude or what have you, but I really have to give God the credit for this. See, I'm a chronic worrier by nature and somehow when I think about my ten days of bedrest with Jack or when the van's registration bill comes in the mail, all that professional worrying has been reduced to a shrug and a seemingly-naive "It'll all work out" in my head. So that's gotta be God, cause it's not me!

Business is good...building slowly. Having a small business is quite a tangle of things to do and keep up with and while I'm grateful for the break to reevaluate and spend time with my family, the over-achiever in me wants to book portrait sessions on my due date. Yes, I'm also crazy. I'm just really excited at the idea of being able to work from home, even if it's harder work than babysitting teenagers six times a day. (More work, but much more respect...I'm *hoping* no one really calls me a *itch at a photo shoot, but I've gotten that in the classrom!) I am most excited about supporting my family doing something I love, something that brings joy to other people and is a positive thing to add to the world!

That's about all that's going on this week. The next week will be here before I know it, but only 11 weeks left...maybe less!

28 weeks: How can this be?

This week my baby is the size of cauliflower or Chinese cabbage--sources conflict. . But I'm in my THIRD trimester--how could this happen so quickly? Surely Jack is partially to blame. I can't just sit and marvel quite at this new love as much as I did with him. I'm already catching on that my life is really going to change again and the constant conversation at home will probably not even include John or I!
Jack is learning and growing at an exponential rate. It's really extraordinary. I can't keep up and I guess that's okay.

Here are some recent "snapshots" of Jack:
*He will shout "Truck!" "Car"! "BIG truck!" "Baby truck!" "Firetruck!" "Bus!" from the car as we drive around.
*He will often say "Mommy" over and over with no discernible reason for doing so. I can answer him each time or not and the repetition stays the same. I like to think he likes to say my name and see me smile at him expectantly.
*Regarding names: If I don't answer to "Mommy" right away, he will bellow "Laaaaaane" to mimic dear Daddy who will do the same thing when I am running late or Daddy is running early.
*He often runs to me, lifts my shirt and kisses "the baby"...which has sometimes turned into him licking my tummy, but I don't quite get that. LOL
*He loves Rex (from Toy Story) and hugs the one Lollie got him, insisting on taking him nearly everywhere. The only other substitute is a white Mommy bear or white Baby bear that someone got us at some point.
*Yesterday he had Rice Krispies with cut up strawberries in it. He doesn't like food mixed or touching (thank you, John), but apparently if I leave him alone long enough, he stops protesting and eats it.
*When we are getting ready to leave, Jack asks, "Home?" meaning he wants to leave home. When we're out and he's ready to leave, he asks the same thing.
*Whenever we leave home or arrive home he wants to pick a "purry fower"...one of the little clover flowers or dandelions that pepper our lawn. Then, invariably, he will behead the flower, exclaim, "Fower brok-key (broken)" and toss both pieces in the car or on the ground.
*He will grab living spiders and hand them to me as they squirm and fight for life. Yesterday he grabbed a Daddy Long Legs and said, "Mommy! O-puss! (Octopus)" Sheesh! I don't want him to be terribly scared of bugs but a little fear would be appreciated. At least before he tries to hand me a black widow or brown recluse.
*In the evening I will strip him down to nothing and let him run around the backyard, so he can go "swimming"...which is just him trying to splash around and make the biggest mess possible in 4" of water in a plastic kiddie pool. Then he runs around and tries to throw things at poor Brownie girl. Jack has started asking for this at all times of the day, saying, "Daddy home? Swimming?"
*Late at night, more nights than not, Jack will wake up, open his door and come into ours. Our ginormous Cal King bed is a little high for him to climb into without help, so he will pat my back or arm and ask, "Mommy? Mommy? THIS bed?" Then in my sleep-induced stupor I may pull him over me to sleep in between Daddy and I or be a wise Mama and heave myself up, take his tiny hand in mine and take him to his room. He will climb in bed and I will cover him, then I'll sit on the floor with my arms and head his bed until he falls asleep. Yawn. Then I go back to bed and pray that the alarm doesn't ring in 10 minutes.
*With much much MUCH harrassment, Jack is starting to understand that he can play with toys from the toy box or his Mega Blocks...and has to put one away to get the other. Otherwise the living room becomes a vertible mine field of pain.

Here are some recent "snapshots" of Baby:
*He kicks like a punter. Not painful yet, just surprising. Whenever I stop moving, he'll take a turn. This is so much fun! I love that I can enjoy him whenever I rest.
*No stretch marks yet (not counting the tiger-mauling that Jack already provided this belly).
*My belly is huge. Much bigger than I thought I was at the same time with Jack. It doesn't feel like there's anymore room to my stomach or give to my skin (see STRETCH MARKS).
*I am starting to freak out now...not a full-out panic, but I'm definitely aware that HOLY CRAP I'M GOING TO HAVE ANOTHER BABY! More specifically, I have to go through LABOR AGAIN. And at the hospital this time, which is NOT a relieving thought in my mind. And I have to RECOVER from labor. Ugh. I hope things go smoothly.
*I eat and drink more when I'm at work than when I'm at home. Doesn't make any sense.
*I waddle. Have for like, four months. Maybe I just gave up.
*I have a few spider veins. That's gross, but not as gross as vericose veins, so I'm grateful.
*I have all the boy clothes I could ever want, so PLEASE don't buy me any. I need diapers and a new crib mattress and a nursing pump and cash. That's just about it.

To Jack:
Little love, you are everything to me. For now, I love you the best--I can say that! I love your big grin and how you say "rEEEEEEEad-a-book" and for your Mommy-esque love of cereal. I love the little curls that fight against this mainstream haircut to come out. I love your giggles...and how you giggle when I SAY giggle. You are fun 99% of the time and I can take 1% of anything for all of that. THANK YOU for being the baby I got, for this perfect, God-given combination of John and I and so much more that neither of us could have given you ourselves. I love you. I love you. I love you.
Mama

To Baby:
I am waiting for your arrival, but I don't have to wait long! Only 12 weeks until we're close to showtime! And what if you come earlier? Wow! This pregnancy has gone so fast. I hope you're doing great in there, though your ultrasound 8 weeks ago looked perfect and your kicks and bumps and swirls tell me you are just as active as your brother. I am always in awe that I have a PERSON inside me...that you will come out and cry and nurse and learn to talk and walk just like Jack did. I am in awe that you will have your own personality--perhaps like or perhaps completely unlike us or your brother. It's hard to imagine that we can make a different combination...that it won't just be another Jack. But I'm glad for it. That would be fun, but boring at the same time. I am excited to see your scrunchy face and pack the pounds on you through our many, many nursing sessions. Grow strong, sweet one. I have so much to show you!
Mama

21 weeks: Pregnant and everyone knows it

I really do feel sad for women who have a difficult pregnancy or who do not like being pregnant. I'm not saying pregnancy is a piece of cake. There are plenty of things I don't care for while they're happening: morning sickness (which ranges from a rumbly tummy to dry heaves to full-out losing all your stomach acid and anything else in there), random joint pain (which for me usually consists of my hips acting like they've welded shut after being in one position for awhile), random ligament pain, an overall feeling of barn-like proportions, kissing my feet goodbye for a few months, an intolerance for Jack's whining about me not being physically able to pick him up and carry him everywhere, etc. etc. etc.

But I LOVE being pregnant. I really really do.

I appreciate the lack of expectation from others. No one really expects me to do a whole lot of lifting, carrying, dieting, strenuous exercising, yard work, housework. Okay, not true. I can't get out of housework or dirty laundry, toys and smashed Goldfish crackers would eat us alive. But I can get people to lift the dog food into my cart and even lift it into my car without looking or feeling like a lazy bum. Pregnancy appeals to my lazy side.

I appreciate the knowing smiles I now get as people look at my face, down to my belly, then back at my face. It's the "aw, a pregnant lady" look that is not annoying to me at all. It's not like the "Oh, you have a HUGE mole on your face/peg leg/tattoo of a naked girl on your rotund gut! Okay, I'm not going to look, don't look, don't look--agh! Had to look." look. Also I am already on the curvy side, so I think that this is one period of my life when the front legitimately balances out the back guilt-free. So pregnancy appeals to my pride as well.

I appreciate the attention I get. Yes, this may be related to pride, but all in all I think it relates to my self-esteem. I try to act like I have plenty of "esteem" and confidence, just like all of you women reading this. But we are little liars, aren't we? We know about the cellulite hiding within the walls of those jeans. We walk quickly by the mirror after we get out of the shower and pray that we had the water hot enough to fog it up in case we steal a glance despite ourselves. We are flaw-finders, in ourselves and in others. A nasty, ugly habit. So to have people in a general state of awe, glee and respect for my bulgy, swollen, overheated body is pretty much one of the biggest boosts I can get any day of my life. If I try to get the same enthusiasm out of people when my kids are in high school, trust me it won't happen. So pregnancy appeals to my self-image.

I appreciate life more. Who can honestly say they aren't in total awe of life in general when they're pregnant? God lets us make our own people!!! I know that sounds kind of childish, but I think it's amazing that God gives us partial credit in this process. And that, each time, He somehow manages to take the best of mom and dad genetically and blend them together into a child. I mean, I tried one of those "upload your photos and see what kind of kid you'd make" and apparently without God's help my child would always look like a transvestite. Seriously. it looked like me with an Adam's apple and a five o'clock shadow. People begged me to take it off myspace. So I am in awe of the whole process, especially when the kid is OUT and you think "If someone said they had to put this IN me I'd say NO WAY!!! It'll never fit!" And somehow it did. So pregnancy appeals to my optimism.

I appreciate my body more. I mean, I actively strive to take care of myself as a top-three priority. Now I'm actually thinking about things like "I need to eat protein within the hour" and "I will just have a sliver of chocolate cake. Really." I'll even keep track of my water intake, which I never usually do. I usually just drink when I'm thirsty and that's about it. So pregnancy appeals to my body as a whole.

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Jack is growing by leaps and bounds...literally. He jumps everywhere. Women stop me and tell me how gorgeous he is and never, EVER cut his hair. All those golden locks entrance women young and old. That's it--I'm shaving his head when he hits puberty.
He was so good today...we went into Bed, Bath & Beyond and didn't even get a cart...he just held my hand and we walked around the whole store. Then we walked down to Trader Joe's to look for asparagus, which was way too expensive, so we went to Petsmart and looked at all the "fishies" and "birdies" and "kitties." Then we saw one of the really long firetrucks, which Jack loved. We drove to Costco and we walked in the back to get asparagus, then Jack carried one of the bags up front alongside me...now isn't that adorable? I'm hoping it equals a good nap in a few minutes. :)

Baby #2 is growing and growing. I no longer look just chubby. I have a pronounced baby bump and am very happy to strut it around (because I would catch myself subconsciously sticking my gut out in public to accentuate the bump and now I don't have to.).
We found out a week ago today that baby is a boy! We are so very happy, and so VERY sure. My second son, ahem, takes after his brother in, um...well, there's just no question. (Baby girls take note, I guess, for 20 years down the line.)
I have felt him kick on several different occasions--just a flutter here and there, but it makes me so happy. He's got my placenta and a little "Jack-era" pudge to kick through, so he must be pretty strong already. Sources are confused as to whether he's a banana or a carrot, but he's between 11 oz and a full pound now. I believe the full pound. I've definitely grown a lot, even just this week.

I love you, my little ones. I can't fathom life without you.

Burning the midnight oil--well, I'm whining, honestly

I am having a lot of trouble sleeping during the past couple weeks. I don't sleep in any later, yet I'm finding myself up at ridiculous hours. It is 1:12 a.m. Jack has been asleep for about 90 minutes. John has been asleep since 10 p.m. I am exhausted, yet my mind keeps going, going, going.

Going about money.
Going about photography jobs I've got coming up.
Going about photography ideas I really want to play out but need willing subjects.
Going about photography equipment I think I need in order to get more photography jobs.
About the money I need for that.
So I need jobs.
And then there's housecleaning.
And all the things I want to do this summer...and it's already July, meaning I only have a month and half until school starts again (wahhhhhhhhh...).
Then I think about being huge and working again. Blech. But I am excited to work again because I need to chug out days and days and days from August to the middle of November so we can 1)pay monthly bills and 2) sock some money aside so we're not starving for a few months after the baby comes.
The toilet runs at random intervals and it's annoying. Sometimes it wakes up Jack.
And then there's worrying about my nutrition and Jack's, since I get lazy and don't fix/eat things I/we should sometimes. It was so much easier when Jack was inside me, quietly growing and I could THINK!
Then there's my office, which is the only room in the house that I really don't want anyone seeing because it's a DISASTER!!! (Anyone have a bookcase they can spare me? And a week of time to babysit so I can file 7 years of paperwork away PROPERLY?)
I haven't gotten the electric bill yet...I get it on my anniversary (July 9th)...ha ha ha. I am torn between sweating like a pig and not getting anything done out of sluggishness and passing out from seeing the bill because I chose to be comfortable. Ugh. Would have loved a swamp cooler.
The landlord is so much grumpier than any other we've had, so I don't dare ask for anything again, but there are ants, spiders and cockroaches. I've never had a landlord say they won't exterminate, that it's my problem, until now.
I need to put a firm handle on what we buy for food each month. I mean, everything that could possibly enter our mouths that's not free from someone else. Because the more random it is, the more expensive it is. And I have to overcome the laziness that is letting John grab a lunch out instead of packing one.
Then there's Jack and how he relies on me so ridiculously much that if my sisters (or John!) tries to give him something, he won't accept it unless they hand it to ME and I HAND IT TO HIM MYSELF!!! I need him to rely on John too, 'cause this new baby is going to be all Mama-clingy with the nursing/co-sleeping thing going on and I just can't have him needing me to do absolutely everything and crawling into bed sometime during the night. There's just no ROOM!
So I'm sure there are other things that bug me. Who can't think of just one or two or twenty more, seriously? But these are things that are on my mind now and it has helped to spit it all out for you. I think maybe I can sleep. G'night.

Week 19: My little mango & my gigantic watermelon

Sweet new little love,
I don't know where this time is going...it is zooming by so quickly and I am nearly half-way to holding you in my arms! I don't even know if you're a girl or boy yet, which is maddening, but also really special. I like not being able to harbor thoughts of you based on gender. It is all still a mystery and that's nice. However, your Daddy and I ARE chomping at the bit to start picking (arguing over) names. As soon as Daddy saw your brother on the ultrasound, he just announced his name to anyone within listening radius after that, so I am wondering what story we will have to tell you about how your name was chosen.
I don't have morning sickness anymore--praise GOD!!! The relaxin that courses through my body, relaxing joints and ligaments is working overtime and I am frequently having aches and pains that don't make a whole lot of sense. I follow a prenatal yoga DVD at least twice a week, which wears me out and relaxing me at the same time. Your brother climbs all over me and tries to knock me down when I am in various yoga poses, so that's Jack saying hi when you get bumped by a big head or feel me gently tumble to the floor from a triangle pose.
Daddy and I can't believe we're nearly halfway there...and I am still waiting for a definite sign from you that you're doing all the stretching and squirming I keep reading about. We worry about silly things like money and bills, but only because we want what's best for you and Jack. We love you so much that it's often hard to talk about the love we feel--but I know you must feel it already through me.
I can't wait to "see" you on the 7th during the ultrasound, little mango. I know I will cry and Daddy may too (but that's because this love fills our hearts and spills over this way!).
See you soon, tiny one!
Love, Mama

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To Jack, my little love and enormous watermelon,
You amaze me every day. Every single day. I can't believe all the things you learn. Now you're speaking short sentences "I'll do it" and you will call out for things when you're looking for them: "Shoooooooooooooes....where are yoouuuuuuuuuu?"
You preface each thing you say with some sort of gibberish that seems to introduce each concept. Confusing but adorable.
You love water and call any water you see a "bath," including oceans and lakes you see in books and on TV. You say, "No Brownie!" when she tries to sniff you or give you kisses and you lay on your stomach in front of the sliding window, chin propped in hands, ankles crossed behind you and talk to her, saying "Hi, puppy!"
You have begun to say "Hi!!!" and waving, often when you know you're in trouble and you want to distract me with cuteness (it does, but I don't show it). You whine a LOT when you don't get your way.
For about a week now I have been able to read you stories in the rocking chair in your room, then get you to lay down in your bed, read you a few more and then practically smother you--at your request--so my skin touches yours, until you fall asleep. Miraculously, this has worked from the first day we tried it!!! We still face the issue of you getting up before we're ready to and climbing into our bed, which limits my options severely and wakes Daddy up for the day. I don't know how much longer I can handle that with my growing belly, but I'm trying, love. I love your soft skin and how you often sleep with your hand on my face. How cute is that?!?
Your diet consists mostly of yogurt, bananas, cereal and the occasional meat we feed you from our plates. You are a particular child. You could eat fruit and dairy all day, just like Mama, but you have certain likes that surprise me, like Daddy's spicy rice and chicken dish...and cabbage ("leaves).
I can't believe you're nearly 26 months--how could your birth have been so long ago? You are so big and so strong and sooooo stubborn. I love you more than anyone right now, anyone on earth. Sometimes I fear something happening to you, ripping my joy from me, but I can't dwell on that. I enjoy you wholeheartedly and love you totally. I will hold you today, cuddle you today, kiss you over and over again today and not fear tomorrow for I'm too weak to stand the thought.
Love you, punkin pie.
Mama

My little avocado

I look forward to every Tuesday now: it's this little one's "birthday"...the day the baby turns one week older and I get more excited about all the preparations that go into bringing another one in the world. I can't wait to see what it "is" (boy, girl, dragon, Italian chef...), but hearing the heartbeat last week was wonderful enough. It made me cry, so the doctor gave me a tissue. :) I just can't believe I am capable (through God, obviously) of sustaining life within me--a new life that wasn't there before and that is totally different from Jack! I hope to feel something, but that's my impatience...I loved feeling Jack move inside me and I am so excited to feel this one!

Tomorrow I will know what "fruit/vegetable size" it is for this week, but this past week the baby has been as long as an avocado. When we were at the farmer's market on Saturday I pointed that out to John and we shared an excited, dopey grin!

I am fully in maternity clothes now, which I was not dreading. I actually like them (while I'm pregnant). I am drinking iced pregnancy tea like crazy and popping pills each day (prenatals, DHA and other "hippie" supplements that made Jack the way he is today). I try to eat well, but either way I eat often, and drink tons of water. I exercise to a prenatal yoga DVD as often as I remember and am making an effort to bake things at home that are more expensive to buy, although I am reluctant now that it's so hot. (I wish the oven was in the garage...but I don't want to work in there either. Grrr.)

I am treasuring this time with Jack, trying to imagine how it will be with another baby...wondering how bad the jealousy will be, since Jack has been the center of my universe for more than two years now. I'm going to have to stop calling him my favorite or that I love him "best of all" too. ;) At least he's too young to know when I leave those things out.

I am so busy this month already that I feel like I can't breathe, but it is different than regular work. It's not a matter of putting time in and going home. I have to work around Jack and John and sometimes that is the harder thing.

My photo business is picking up and I am trying a few new business methods that I'm excited about. I think the hardest part of advertising my boudoir photography is that morally I only want to photograph engaged or married women, but it sounds rude to say to people interested in my services. I mean, I'm not going to bend the rules for the sake of not appearing rude, but I do realize that somewhere down the line this will cause me to lose business here and there. However, in the end my intent is to serve God by strengthening marriages so I am not worried about the occasional lost sale.

I DO hope boudoir bookings will pick up and I can possibly replace my substitute income with this sort of thing, as it is much less of a time-suck. (I think to replace my income I only need between six and ten clients a month.) And I LOVE doing this, which is much better than being disrespected by teenagers and sometimes feeling like I barely survived the day at the high schools!

To John: I am so excited about our growing family--who knew when we met at that bbq ten years ago that we'd be married with a beautiful boy (and another on the way)!

To Jack: I love this time with you, just Mommy & her precious boy, playing games, running through the sprinklers and eating pb&j's together. I love cuddling you and spending time with you, even when you are desperately trying to snatch the mouse from me like right now. I love you, punkin pie.

To my little growing one: I can't believe I get another opportunity to be a mama! I am so excited to see you, to feel you, to have a little one grunting and rooting to nurse, to give baby baths to and deeply take in that delicious newborn smell! Being pregnant with your big brother taught me all the little surprises that come with pregnancy and new mamahood, but I think I can enjoy this time even more with you, since I know what things I most look forward to enjoying again! I want to just stare at you, watch your sleep, enjoy nursing a little one again, search for nearly microscopic baby socks in piles of laundry and NOT WORRY AS MUCH! I am already in love with loving you!

Random thoughts

I love Indian food. And Greek food. Okay part of that is because the Indians have raita and naan and the Greeks have hummus and tzatziki and pita bread. And there's nothing people love more than taking one thing, dipping it in something creamy and lovely and then eating it. Mmmmmmmmm. Yes.

I think if my pregnancy could have a voice, it would say, "More fruit and dairy please." I don't really want meat or veggies (unless cleverly concealed in dairy, such as tzatziki or raita). I just tried making myself a salty lassi, which is basically a slightly savory yogurt drink, with a little mint from my hanging-in-there mint plant and cilantro from the fridge. It wasn't fantastic, but it was dairy, so I liked it alright. It's s'posed to be good for digestion. Yay, digestion.

Weaning of the binky has begun. Which means I am hearing a litany of "Beeta beeta beeta beeta mama beeta!" every time he thinks about it. I'm trying to keep it just for naps and bedtime, but he's used to using it when he watches a show on TV or rides in the car, so this may not be easy. However I can see his two top teeth turning in slightly and, well, they don't make then bigger than the mouth of an 18 month old so it's starting to look ridiculous with the corners of his mouth peeking out the sides. He looks adorable when he uses it, but it "gotsta go."

School is out! Yay! I could be depressed at the lack of money that will swiftly ensue, but that's a downer, so I'm celebrating a chance to exercise more frequently, eat better and play with Jack! (Oh and clean and such, but no one wants to talk about that.)

We planted corn and it's not growing. Who can't grow corn? It's like grass.... Poop.

There are a bunch of baby sparrows jammed in our porch light in a nest, with mama hurriedly escaping every time we try to enter or exit the house. So we don't use the porch light so we don't burn their baby eyes forever. (I'm guessing blind birds are not going to be the fittest that survive.)

My sisters are awesome and work so hard at their respective colleges! I'm so proud of both of them! Theresa and Liz, you kick ass!

Only a few more days till I see Dr. Kurian. That's good. Then I can finally find out how much weight I've packed on with all this eating 'cause we don't own a scale. What a weird thing to celebrate, but who wants to own a scale anyway? I don't need that kind of pressure.