September 25, 2013
Do you ever notice how loud complete silence is?
It may be an oh so very rare occurrence around here, but on occasion when Hubby is out of town and I manage to survive bedtime routine with the kids and still have some dignity left, I'll plop down with said dignity like a sack of potatoes... no, like a bowl full of jelly... no, oh I don't know what. My brain is too darn shot to think of anything clever right now.
But I'll plop down to take a breather and everything is so quiet, that the utter stillness and silence is like a roaring in my ears.
It can be quite deafening.
I should probably take the time to sleep or do something useful, yet at the end of the day the last thing I have any desire to do is something productive or useful, that includes sleep.
Now that I'm down to the last two months of this pregnancy I can't sleep half the time anyway. Insomnia and back pain make terrible bedfellows you know.
Still, I have to laugh. Every time it's Joseph's turn to say the family prayer, he always asks that the baby will "come out soon". I'm trying really hard not to agree with that for another five to six weeks at least.
The kids are constantly asking if it's November yet, or if it's time for the baby to come out. They are even kind enough to mention that my belly is getting "pretty big"!
At almost 32 weeks now I had someone say to me just the other day that I don't look like I could go another two months.
Ouch. As if I didn't feel huge enough as it is!
Oh hey, I think you dropped something... no wait, that was just my self-esteem hitting the floor. LOL!
But anyway, this poor little guy still has no name. We can't seem to agree on one! My top pick right now is "Joshua". Not that I'm intentionally picking "J" names. Joseph and Jacob were not collaborated in any way. But don't they sound good with "Joshua"?
Besides, it will help keep everyone confused, even me. Haha!
Hubby's hang-up with the name is that it's my oldest brother's name as well as his cousin's name. But at this point, I don't care! With so many dang boys on both sides of our family I've about given up on not over-lapping. And since we like more traditional names, options are getting limited.
Jacob really wants us to name him "Hunter".
Hubby did suggest "Jefferson", and the name has grown on me, but I'm not sure I'd want everyone shortening it to "Jeff", which I feel sure they would.
So, any thoughts? Any name suggestions? Because at this point, I am at a loss.
Maybe we should just call him "Guy".
September 18, 2013
Those of you who follow this blog on Facebook will have seen this already.
But I want you to know that I didn't post it lightly.
I meant it from my the bottom of my ever-honest-to-golly-gosh heart.
Just for you.
This is what would happen if I were the one sharing such triumphs.
Look at my garden!
Well ummm... I think it's in there, somewhere. At least, it use to be before the weed army moved in and took over the vegetable empire.
I bet if I put on some tall boots and went out to brave the devastation left by the weed army, I'd find a vegetable to two... somewhere... maybe.
Anyway, but look at my made-from-scratch cake!
*awkward silence, crickets chirping*
Okay, since my kitchen utensils don't actually know what that means, I did the best I could.
Does this count?
(pssssttt, this is the part where you say "yes")
And finally, I have the most respectful children!
Why just the other day, Hubby comes in and tells me this story.
He was in the basement tossing out old sheet rock and other garbage through the window, when Claira (age two) approached from outside.
After watching him for a moment she finally asked, "What da heck you doin' dad?"
Oh ya, we're on a roll.
P.S. If you really do have an awesome looking garden, have made some sort of amazing cake from scratch, and have taught and trained your children to be pretty close to perfect, than give yourself a well-deserved pat on the back. (I mean that sincerely)
I'm just going to sit here and hope that someday I can be like you when I grow up.
In the meantime, I will eat my chocolate and practice my "survival-of-the-fittest-30-weeks-pregnant" skills.
'Cause hey, we're all still breathing. :)
September 4, 2013
Summer was... interesting this year.
It had its ups and downs a bit more-so than usual.
The ups came from the all the fun summer stuff we did and the fact that I got to have all my children home.
Oh, and it was warm and sunshiney. So I wore flip flops and lived barefoot whenever possible. Heaven. (try not to look so disgusted, sheesh)
The downs tended to stem from the fact that we don't have any air conditioning, I gained an atrocious amount of weight, (see picture below) and my pregnancy hormones this time around seem totally haywire.
One minute I'm perfectly happy, the next I'm perfectly annoyed, and before I know it, smoke and flame are streaming from my ears and nose.
Try not to take too much enjoyment from that mental picture.
So as school approached, I was definitely fighting mixed emotions.
Once August hit it just seemed as though the kids had had enough of doing nothing, of not having a schedule. I really don't think it would have been so bad if I didn't feel so darn lousy all the time.
I for sure recognize that compared to some, I have easy pregnancies. But since I tend to battle different levels of morning sickness the whole time, I'm afraid I would often fall into survival mode.
And so it was that the first day of school arrived.
The boys were so very darn excited they very nearly exploded out the door. But I was able to hold them back from the bus stop long enough to snag a couple pictures.
Although, Joseph kept being so stinkin' goofy that I refused to let them leave before I got at least one good photo.
Jacob was not happy with his brother for holding up the show.
Oh wow! Do I make good-lookin' boys, or do I make good lookin' boys? Hmmm?
Oh ya, I make good lookin' boys. Love them!
It was also Savannah's first day of school... homeschool that is.
*gasp* Say what!?
Depending on your view-point, you are at this moment experiencing everything from pride in my decision to down-right horror.
But that's okay. You forget, I too was homeschooled from 4th grade through high school.
I know all about people's reaction to the idea.
(It's all an act, I'm really not normal at all... mwah ha ha ha ha!!!)
Anyhow, why would I do this to my bright, happy, social child who loved school?
Well, it's rather long and complicated, so here is the reader's digest version.
Last year was a really rough year for her. She was not at all challenged in school and quickly became bored and irritable. She would come home and within five minutes be in the foulest of moods and mope and moan and whine about everything.
I recognize that everyone has bad school years and that a lot of what happened was due to age, but like any parent, I worried.
And when we worry, what do we do? We search, we ponder, we pray, we eat chocolate.
Lots and lots of chocolate.
One day, the thought came quite randomly and totally out of the blue, "homeschool her".
I immediately laughed the idea to scorn.
Bahahahaha! Ya right! I'm having a baby in November! I still have two other little kids at home. Consistency is so not my forte'.
And yet, I couldn't shake the thought and every time I tried to think about putting her in school, it never felt right. So after several weeks of fighting, I finally caved and started researching homeschool curriculum, and it just seemed so right.
Fast forward to the first day of school.
As the boys headed off to the bus while Savannah stayed behind, I felt such peace in the decision that I knew it was the right one, for this year at least.
We are now two days into it and I'll admit, it's not easy. But hopefully over the next couple weeks we can figure out what will work best for her.
In the mean time, I'll be eating chocolate.
Lots and lots of chocolate.
September 2, 2013
Hubby had taken Savannah (our oldest) and Claira (our youngest) with him to Home Depot. Only a few minutes after he came home, the dyer beeped, indicating it was done.
Knowing that it contained a bunch of Hubby's nice shirts, I quickly removed them to avoid them getting wrinkly.
I believe in ironing clothes only when it's a life or death situation.
That's why some clothes get re-warmed in the dryer eight or sixty times before I finally remember to pull them out as soon as it beeps.
Anyhow, as is my habit, I dumped all the freshly dried clothes onto the couch, pulled out all the shirts and set them nicely aside, then went back to the laundry room, switched over the stuff in the washer and started a new load.
Going back to the couch, I start folding the rest of the clothes while chatting with Hubby.
Finally it occurred to me that I hadn't seen Claira.
Me: Hey, where's Claira?
Hubby: *giving me a really odd look* What do you mean?
Me: Where's Claira? Did she fall asleep in the car on the way home?
Hubby: *walking over to me before getting a rather amused look on his face* Maybe you should try looking under your laundry pile.
Me: *thoroughly perplexed* Huh?
Looking down at the pile of clothes I was folding, it took me a second to realize what I was looking at.
I hope it took you a second to see it too.
It would make me feel so much better.
Even if you noticed right way, please uphold my parental ego by lying and saying it took you a moment as well.
Apparently I had dropped my pile of laundry right on her sleeping head.
Mother of the Year.
I guess it's time to start praying that my children will survive having me as their mother.