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Monday, October 31, 2005

New Jumper

Great Uncle Ron and Great Aunt Pat sent Zoe a Halloween package a few days ago. Zoe says "Thank you!" by the way. This pink turtleneck and denim jumper was one of the new outfits they sent. Zoe was a little more perky in the evening, when this one was taken than the next one, which was right after waking up before heading to church.

This is Zoe just being silly. We just got home from meeting some friends for dinner who had come out from Oregon. Zoe loves to go out to eat, which we don't do very often. This time she was all excited about getting some "ketchup with french fries on top." Which is a pretty good description. She loves ketchup and I have to convince her repeatedly that it is a condiment and not a main course (yuck!).

Back on Schedule

This photo was taken almost exactly a week ago at 32 weeks. Though I am beginning to feel (and look) like a sumo wrestler with an extra wagging chin (and extra wagging in other areas, too), I still do not have stretch marks, so perhaps I will make it through another one with minimal "evidence."

Monday, October 24, 2005

Fall Fun

Last weekend we took Zoe to Campbell's Farm to play and pick out pumpkins. She got to ride John Deer tractor trikes, slide down a haybale slide, wander through a toddler size maze... a clown who made her a ballon teddy bear holding a big heart...

...go on a hayride and pick out her own pumpkins and then paint a pumpkin, "jig" with the fiddle and guitar players, and jump in a big purple dragon bouncing house (which can be seen in the background
on the first clown picture). The bouncing house was her favorite. She announced to us, "I need to stay in here and jump all day!" She still hasn't stopped talking about all the activities of that day.

It's Happening...

As stressful as it was for me at times that Zoe to required constant holding and "snuggling," I also dreaded the day when Zoe completely outgrew being held and snuggled. I think that day has arrived. Now that Dear Daughter is going to bed on her own (without needing to be held and rocked to sleep) she doesn't tolerate being held for very long after bedtime stories. Soon after the last story is read, she points to her bed and says, "Go to the crib?" And I find myself trying to talk her into letting me hold her longer. Last night, after tucking Dear Daughter into her bed, I guess I was lingering a little too long and kissing on her too much because she eventually pointed to the door and said, "Mommy go out the door?" I said, "You want Mommy to go bye bye?" and she said, "No. Don't go bye bye, just go out the door." Ugh! I tried to ignore the ache in my heart and not think about the day when she'll be old enough that it won't be cool to have her Mommy hanging around and kissing on her in front of her friends. At random times Dear Daughter will say things like, "I'm getting big!" and "I'm growing up, Mommy!" and I choke back the tears and say, "Yes, you are" as I wonder quietly to myself how 26 months could possibly pass so quickly.

Friday, October 21, 2005

A Little Behind

Unfortunately, the title of this post is a reference to time (this picture was taken three weeks ago) and not a reference to the current size of my pregnant derriere. Keep in mind that three weeks at this stage of pregnancy tends to result in some "big" changes. I'll try to get a newer picture taken and posted. If my self-esteem survives the completion of this pregnant picture posting project, it may be good medicine for me to post my shrinking size post pregnant size.

Wednesday, October 12, 2005

Stop the Clock!

I know I've said this a million times, but I just have to note it once again: my little girl is growing up WAY TOO FAST!!!

This past weekend we took the drop rail off Dear Daughter's crib and added the little rails to convert it to a toddler bed. The main reason to push ahead with this is that I would like a slow, stress-free, transition for her to a "big girl" bed before Dear Son needs the crib. I expected that Dear Daughter would be thrilled by the concept that she can crawl in and out of her bed now at will. However, she has not tried to get up once. She slept just like before, and we've had no problems for several days. I believe she likes being covered up and tucked in with her blankie so much that she doesn't dare get up and find herself unable to tuck herself back in. When Dear Daughter figures out how to tuck herself back in, we may find ourselves in the battle of having a two year old getting up out of bed frequently. For now...things are great.

We bought Dear Daughter new bedroom furniture this weekend. A twin size bed, 5 drawer dresser, and 2 shelf bookcase. It's not "real" furniture. It came in boxes from the O'Sullivan outlet, and we have to put it all together. Pressboard with a faux wood laminate. But you can't beat the bargain we got. Dear Daughter looked so tiny next to the big twin bed in the store. I think it's going to break my heart the first night I tuck her in it. It will be a while, though. Dear Husband's to-do list is plenty long with furniture assembly being low on the priority list right now. We will be lucky to have 10 more weeks before Dear Son comes along and rules our lives with his countless newborn needs. I'm only banking on about 8 weeks before he arrives. As much as I am tired of the whole beached whale scene, 8 weeks is just not enough time. Not enough time to finish the necessary preparations for the new wee one, not enough time for the mother-daughter time I relish with Dear Daughter that will soon be infringed upon, and not enough time before sleepless nights return and the other stuff that goes along with newborn maintenance. Not to mention the impending gloomy feeling I have that life will again never be the same. I was just getting adjusted to the first round of life never being the same since Dear Daughter entered the picture. I keep wondering when the "excited" stage is supposed to happen and try not to feel guilty that I'm not there. It's not that this baby is unwanted. We always planned to have two children. In that sense, this is the fulfillment of our dreams and goals for our family. But something so rewarding as having your own children is also so difficult and stressful and most of all LIFE-CHANGING!


Yesterday was Dear Daughter's day to go to Grandpa and Grandma's while I go to work for 10 hours. When she woke up we did the usual routine of talking about going to see Grandpa and Grandma and picking out what to wear, then having some breakfast before packing up and heading out the door. Dear Daughter missed her visit last week since Grandpa and Grandma were out of town visiting Dear Daughter's two Great Grandmothers. Dear Daughter was more than ready to go see Grandpa and Grandma after two long weeks. Dear Daughter sat quietly eating her breakfast for several minutes when all of a sudden she announced, "I better get going!" and she tried to climb down out of her booster chair. I said, "Well where do you need to go?" and Dear Daughter responded, "I better get going to see Grandma!" She changed her mind as I was preparing to clear away her breakfast, and decided she wasn't done eating. She finished up quickly and as soon as I got her out of her chair she said, "Oh! I better get my hat!" She was eager and waiting to get going with her hat in place on her head while I cleaned up breakfast as quickly as possible and gathered all the gear for her day with Grandpa and Grandma and my day at work, and then managed to convince her to brush her teeth before we were off.

When did my tiny baby girl transform into a toddler, and how is it possible that my toddler is so quickly transforming into a little girl who has such complex reasoning ability and conversational skills? I don't want my little girl to grow up! I tell her often she is growing like a weed, and the other day she informed me, "You are growing like a weed, Mommy!" Unfortunately, she is also correct. I will post a new Zachary belly picture soon.

Wednesday, October 05, 2005


Last Friday I took Zoe to the park. It's been awhile since we've gone because it has been soooooo hot and I just cannot tolerate it. I swear I've been chronically hot since April of 2003 when I was pregnant with Zoe. I guess it's one of the side effects of raging hormones. I joke that by the time all the pregnancy hormones leave my body (which can take quite some time), I will be entering menopause. So I may as well just accept the fact that I will be hot from now until Kingdom Come. I'm praying that the climate in Heaven will be akin to Siberia. Perhaps if I be really really good in this life God will grant me my very own iceberg on which to perch for the rest of eternity. I had hoped that having a winter baby would mean I would have the final months of this pregnancy during cooler weather. It's now October and still nearly 90 degrees outside most days. And muggier than the atmosphere of a sauna packed with a dozen fat, sweaty men (not that I've ever been in a sauna packed with a dozen fat, sweaty men...but I think it would be similar).

With my belly growing larger by the day now, hot nights make sleeping even more uncomfortable. I am a back sleeper, which I'm not allowed to do while pregnant. So I flop from side to side all night long, which is no easy feat with my current mammoth size. "Side flopping" requires that I muster a good deal of strength and momentum in order to hoist my body up and then oomph it over in a sort of flipping flopping motion. As soon as I achieve this task, I usually notice that it's time for my hourly bladder emptying. So then I must hoist myself up into a sort of rolling sitting position to oomph myself out of bed altogether and travel the well worn path in the carpet to the nearest toilet. Add to this the hot, sticky weather and all the flipping, flopping, hoisting, and oomphing become even more uncomfortable.

I had one of my "hot fits" the other night after flipping, flopping, and oomphing for a couple hours in bed. Sleep being the never-ending goal that is always just out of my reach. I had already made the trek downstairs to bump down the thermostat a few extra degrees. I think I've worn another path in the carpet between the bedroom and the thermostat. My poor husband, unable to sleep himself with all the commotion of trying to share his bed with a sweaty beached whale, got up and took his own trip to the bathroom. I'm not sure that was his intentional destination or if the grooves in the carpet just sort of forced him to go that way. Nevertheless, during the time he was gone I believe a thirteenth, fourteenth, and fifteenth fat, sweaty man entered the sauna. I begged Dear Husband to go downstairs and turn down the thermostat yet again. I assured him it didn't matter that he wasn't fully awake, and he needent turn on any lights...just follow the well traveled carpet path and it would lead him there. Either that, or he would find himself at the toilet again, in which case would he please empty my bladder again for me. Then I had some sort of verbal catharsis that conveyed something to the effect of "@#$#@!!! it! I am so #$#$#@#@! hot! I don't care if we have to set that #$!@#$ thermostat on FRIGID, and I don't care if the #@#$!@ electric bill is $500 this month, I can't take this @#!#$%@ heat anymore!!!!!!" I'm not sure what Dear Husband set the thermostat to that night, but apparently the temperature finally met my approval because I finally fell asleep for a couple blissful hours and didn't wake up in a pool of sweat on my next trip to the bathroom.

I have digressed dramatically. I was beginnng to share about my trip to the park with Zoe last Friday. The weather had a rare break and a high of 72 degrees just barely qualified it to be cool enough for me to leave the house. So I took advantage of the time to get Dear Daughter out in some fresh air to run and play. A grandmother was there with her grandson, and she was sitting near the play equipment watching. Zoe was having all kinds of fun crawling through the tubes and climbing the stairs and going down the slides. But each time she wanted to pass by the grandmother, she got really shy and would cling to me. At one point she gave the grandmother a cautious look and turned toward me, and buried her face in my shoulder and said, "I'm feeling kinda nervous, Mommy." I laughed out loud, racking my brain for a clue as to where she picked up a word like "nervous" and amazed that yet again she used a complex word completely appropriately in her own context as if she completely understands what the word means.