31.5 Week Update

I haven't written lately because of any or all of the following reasons:

• I was too tired.
• I was sleeping.
• I couldn't think.
• I forgot what I wanted to write about.
• I was crying for no apparent reason. 
• I was thinking about doing housework.
• I was too stinking tired.
• I didn't want to bend over to get the computer.
• ZZZZZZZzzzzzzzz.

What? I dozed off there for a minute.
I have about 8 weeks left to cook this kid before he's all done. I have exact equal feelings of, "Wow, only 8 weeks? I'm not ready. That's really soon." AND "Oh my gosh, I have to waddle around like a cow and function like this for 8 more weeks?! I'll never make it that long!"
It takes so much energy to do anything right now. And I have to go back to work in a week and a half. To my coworkers: I thank you in advance for your understanding. I am going to do my best, though my best is not that great at the moment.  To my students: please be nice. That is all.
I'm enjoying these last weeks of pregnancy as best I can. I have equal feelings as well about this possibly being my last time pregnant. (To answer everyone's question, we haven't decided it this is it or not. We'll see. And on a side note, why is everyone obsessed with asking that? I know you're curious, but keep it to yourself. It's kind of weird.) On one hand, telling me this is the last time I'll be pregnant is like, "Aww, I'll miss the feeling of life growing inside." On the other hand it's like, "THANK YOU! I'M MISERABLE!"
While I am overwhelmingly grateful to be a part of this miracle and would not trade it for the world, anyone who tells you pregnancy is wonderful is LYING. Or more likely, suffering from selective memory loss. It happens.
These are the things I miss the most  right now:

• Diet Pepsi
• Caffeine
• My lap
• My balance
• My bony feet and ankles
• Sleeping without being kicked in the lungs (I'll trade that for not sleeping at all soon, I realize)
• Pants that don't have to come up to my armpits
• Underwear that fits
• Shoes other than flip-flops
• Energy to do anything

But to be fair and positive, I'll end with my favorite things about being pregnant:

• Excitement of a new baby coming.
• Having an excuse to sit down wherever I go. 
• An excuse as to why my house is a wreck.
• Feeling him move (most of the time, see above)
• Not worrying about if my belly looks fat. 

Phew. That wore me out. 

A letter to my son...

Dear Max,
     Hey buddy. I am excited about meeting you in about 12 weeks. While I have a few brain cells that still seem to be working, I thought I'd tell you a few things that one day, a long time from now when you're older, I'll actually share with you.

• You are a miracle. All babies are, of course, but I am more aware of it this time. You have a brother (could be a sister, but we'll stick with brother for pronoun convenience) up in Heaven who we haven't had the chance to meet yet. However, before he left, he taught me how fragile and precious life is, even when you're no bigger than a teardrop.  So when Daddy and I found out you were on your way, we did not take that for granted.
• I told God I didn't think I could handle a boy. The boys in our family weren't exactly easy, laid-back, cookie cutter kids (sorry guys, but it's true). I guess he took this as a challenge, because here you come! When your sister was coming, I knew I had a lot to learn, but at least I had the princess/pink background covered. Honestly, I don't know anything about raising a boy. I would get a book, but they tend to make me feel bad about myself, so I'm hoping it's okay with you if I just wing it.
• You will need to learn sarcasm, humor, and flexibility early on to survive in this family. And knowing a few Disney songs will make the ride more enjoyable, and will make your sister accept you a little quicker.
• Your Daddy came up with your awesome name. I approved. General/Gladiator Maximus Decimus Meridius is about the manliest man you'll find in any movie. I insisted we shortened it to Max, but your dad and various others will no doubt call you Maximus. Take it as an honor. Your middle name, Callahan, is also after a manly man whom your Poppy especially adores, "Dirty" Harry Callahan. Ask Poppy to tell you about his one paper he ever wrote about another Clint Eastwood movie, The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly. Tell Grandmother that Callahan is a family name on your dad's side. Just trust me.
• Your Daddy and I love each other very much, and always will. I know, I know, ewwwww. Whatever. Again, just trust me, there will be one day you will be glad of that.

    

Okay, I'm sure there is more, but that seems to cover the high points for now. I promise you that I will do the very best I can to be the best mother for you. At least the God of the universe saw me fit for the job. I suppose we can have faith that he was right! (Remember the sarcasm/humor thing? I told you that you'd need it!)
                                                                                     I love you more than you'll know already!
                                                                                     Mommy

A post about nothing

So if you read my post yesterday, I seemed pretty with it, right? (At least I'm trusting that I didn't have any blaring typos or anything since my diligent husband read it.) I was feeling all great about myself at that point.
     However, about an hour or two later, to my chagrin I discovered an epic fail of my brain (yet again). Some of my friends read recently that I put toothpaste in my contact case and found clean glasses in the refrigerator. I just call that absentmindedness. I'm not sure what this can be called. Let me start from the beginning.
     In my valiant quest to be "temporary SAHM elite" I planned our menu for this week on Sunday. I have a little notebook in which I wrote the meal and the book and page number with the recipe. This week, as are most weeks I actually cook from a book, is Rachael Ray week. On Tuesday Brynn and I went to the grocery store, list in hand via a new organizing list app on my iPod, and even a few coupons (which I haven't managed to use since last summer). Let me eliminate a couple of variables.
1) Brynn has become an amazing grocery shopper. I can't imagine why. There is no reason a 3-year-old should behave as well as she does in the grocery store. She helps me, stays right with me, and doesn't complain or beg. So I can't blame this incident on her.
2) This was literally the first thing I put in my buggy, so it wasn't like I was tired or rushing to leave or anything like that. If any thing I wasn't "warmed up" yet.

      On my list I had "Gruyere Cheese." I had no idea what color, shape, texture, or smell this cheese had. I knew it was for a chicken cordon bleu recipe, so it was probably white, and I knew where exotic cheeses are in Bilo. But that's it. I found it rather quickly. However, this was right beside it.

  For some reason, my feeble little pregnant brain thought these said the same thing. I don't know if the shiny apple sticker distracted me, I liked circles better than squares that day, or if it was because there was only one gouda left beside the pile of gruyere and it seemed special. For whatever reason, I stared at these two with one in each hand for a LOOOOOONG time (Brynn was looking at cupcakes or something) and the ONLY difference I could see was circle vs. square. 
    And I teach children. And people pay me to do so.
     This kid sucking all the life and intelligence out of me better be smart is all I gotta say. Next time I'm going to ask Brynn what the difference is if I get confused again.
     Oh, and if you were wondering, the chicken cordon bleu may not have been authentic, but it was delicious even with the gouda.

Phew!

Okay, so it's day 1 of "official" summer break (my reasoning being that I would have had this weekend off anyway) and I TOTALLY see why my house looks the way it does during the school year. I worked out a plan of action before school was out with the help of FlyLady.net and some other resources, and have tried to implement those habits already.
Here are the main ones I have focused on:
1. Putting dirty dishes directly in the dishwasher that can be washed in there.
2. Hand-washing remaining dishes every night (and putting them away) and running the dishwasher every night.
3. Emptying the dishwasher every morning.
4. When I wash and dry a load of laundry, put it up in the same day.
(Notice the acronym "phew!" That was totally not on purpose, except that I went back and added "hand" to number two when I noticed how close it was to being awesomely cheesy.)
I don't know how "normal" people react to these goals of mine. I imagine some of you Cleanies are thinking, "Yeah, duh, you slob. You don't do that all the time?" However, this has been very difficult for me! These are not yet habits and take a lot of self-discipline to keep going. I have to confess even last night (day 3 of this plan) there was a pan in the sink I didn't wash. It wasn't even that dirty, I just decided one pan wasn't worth washing before I went to bed.
It is nice though, because by doing these things regularly, I have been able to do other things around the house too. We are working on cleaning the garage out. We have made a small dent so far, but I KNOW I'm not the only one with garage woes. Before, whenever I had the energy left to do housework, it had to be put into catching up on the mountains of dishes and laundry.
One tip I read about keeping a neater house said to do a load of laundry every 5 days. Excuse me? Maybe if I lived by myself. Maybe when I get caught up I don't have to do a load every day to keep it within reason, but it's day 4, and I have at least 3 more loads I could do today, so by the time I get those done, doing one a day, I'm guessing another one will be waiting on me. (And I'm adding a little boy to this mix!)
I am extremely satisfied with how I'm doing so far, but seriously, it's a full time job on it's own when you throw in preparing 3 meals a day, caring for a vibrant 3 year old, doing regular errandy-type things, and trying to have fun somewhere in there.
I have never said that SAHM's have it easy, I'm not trying to say a point has been proven. My point is that other than the 3 meals a day thing (I do good to fix my own first two and supper when school is in) I'm still supposed to be doing all this other stuff while working 8+ hours a day. When school starts back I'm going to read this again and remind myself that I do a pretty darn good job considering what is expected of me! Kudos to wives and moms everywhere!

Reflection

This Tuesday I go for my 20 week ultrasound. The "anatomy scan." When I don't think very hard about it, I am excited out of my mind. I have had trouble many nights getting to sleep just because I'm so excited. I can't WAIT not to say "it" and "him or her." I want to know my baby's name. I don't know how people wait the whole time, knowing you don't have to!
Then just when I think I'm in the clear, that nasty fear comes creeping back. What if they find something terribly wrong? What if they find something that might be wrong, enough to make me worry another 20+ weeks?  
Every day I fight off thoughts that I might have had when I was pregnant with Brynn, but they are strikingly more pressing this time. One day, one minute, I'm thinking my belly isn't as big as it should be. Later I'll realize I hadn't felt a flutter today. One thought after the other, guessing and second guessing if everything is alright. Curse you, miscarriage, for taking my blissful optimism away.
At the same time, I've been thinking on this time a year ago. I don't remember specifically the day I started showing signs I was miscarrying, because I denied wholeheartedly it was anything to worry about for at least a few days. I do remember that I went to the doctor just a few days after my birthday, which is May 11. I went twice and saw a heartbeat before May 22 knowing for sure my baby was gone.
I know these coincidental dates are adding to my fear and anxiety leading up to this exciting day (I really am more excited than anything). I had no idea this time last year that I would be halfway to meeting a new baby with everything going well. (In spite of my fears, everything has been perfect so far.) I had no idea if I would have another healthy child like Brynn, and I had no idea how long it would take. I prayed God wouldn't let me go through that hurt again. I didn't think I could bear it.
I grappled for a way to honor my baby's memory. At Christmas time, we donated a poinsettia at church in his memory from the 3 of us, since he was due on December 22, so close to Christmas. Now that the day he went to Heaven (at least the only date we can know) is coming up, I feel that need to remember again. For some reason I worry about people thinking it is strange, like maybe I should let it go. Maybe it's weird that I still think about this baby that is gone when I have a precious girl with me here and another one on the way. I spend every waking hour thinking and caring for the two I have here, so maybe it isn't so strange that twice a year I do something special for my heavenly child.
When I got enough courage last year, I made a donation of diapers and wipes to the Carolina Pregnancy Center. I figured I would have been buying them for my baby, so at least somebody else could have them. I think that's what I'll do again this year. I know it is just a little bit, but it means more than that to me.

"What's in a name? That which we call a rose By any other name would smell as sweet."

Okay, so in the context, I get what Juliet was saying. She had her point. But I'm about to make mine. Would she really have been interested in Romeo so much in the beginning if his name were Cletus? (Please no offense if your grandpa's name is Cletus, I'm sure he was a wonderful guy in spite of his mother's bad choice.)
Giving a name to a human being that has to work from his infancy to his shuffleboard team days is not a task to take lightly! Honestly, you can't even think about what all it entails without wondering if there is any way you're going to be able to live with your decision.
Here are some of the things you have to think about before sticking a moniker on your kid. (Or at least some of the things I think about.)
1. Do you like it
2. Does the baby daddy like it
3. Will your offspring (current and upcoming) like it
4. Can all of your family and their endearing accents pronounce it
5. Do the initials spell anything weird or make an acronym like LSD or something
6. What possible nicknames and taunts could come from it (Now this one is a toughy, because of mean kids, most names could have something bad happen to them, but you can't make it easy on them)
7. Are there any major crime cases involving the name--criminal OR victim (for example, I doubt many people named their kid Lacy in 2002 because of that horrid case)
8. Does it sound right when you imagine it being said in full at your child's graduation
9. Does it look right
10. Does it feel right

And these are just my top ten.

It's three years later and I still feel good about my name choice of my first born. I'm just still working on meeting all the criteria for this one!

This blog entry is not airbrushed

I went shopping again today. I didn't think I could do it so soon, but I made it back this time without tears (at least mine, Brynn cried a couple of times). I knew better than to go alone though, I took my mom with me in case I broke down again. :)
However, since apparently maternity clothes are an endangered species in Spartanburg, I came home and got to looking online. (It's pretty bad when a Dillard's employee refers you to Target!)
I will start by saying I have found some cute things that actually look like maternity clothes online, not just clothes you wear when you're trying to hide that you're pregnant. (I want people to be so sure that my belly has a baby in it that they aaaaaaalmost ask me. We all know you never under and circumstances actually ask someone.) However, I am quite intrigued by the fact that even plus sized maternity clothes are airbrushed! I am not experienced in graphic design, but I know for a fact there is no way a woman wearing these clothes could have arms as skinny as these. And trying to add an hourglass figure to a 8 month pregnant woman is just silly. It's not going to look natural no matter how you try.
Who do they think is looking at these clothes? I suppose they think I'll look at this and say, "Wow, if they can look this skinny in these I must by them!" While in actuality I'm thinking, "Can I please just see what they really look like in these clothes?" Sigh.
The journey continues.