Beauty and art

So it's the end of the year, and I miss my blog here. I miss sinking into a chair during naptime and catching up with my good old friends. I miss doing things because I enjoy them, as it seems my life has become dominated by a to-do list and practicality. And for some reason, Fly lately has been telling me, "I miss you."

Maybe that's why recently I've been craving beauty and art.



And I'd like a side of order.

I look around my house and see the clutter of toys and Christmas packages and stuff JP has left out because he, too, has become stretched and straightening up isn't a priority around our house.

Not beautiful.

I grab a handful of baby fat at my waist and fear that jowls are sneaking up on me.

Not beautiful.

I wake up groggy after five hours of broken sleep, and brace myself for what new three-year-old defiance Fly will hurl at me this day.

Not beautiful.

But I remind myself that this is beauty.



And this is art.



Maybe order will come in time, but until then I will just try to go back to my mantra, "A mama needs to have more fun."

Wishing you a more fun-filled 2010!

A month after my perfect birth

Dream quickpage by Kimberly Pollinger

It's hard to believe that my baby is a month old today.

Funny how time keeps going forward like that.

My little Junebug is a much more laid-back baby than Fly was. JP tentatively suggested the Bug is my do-over baby -- partly kidding, of course -- because Fly was and still is an intense child.

JP also pointed out that with the Bug I got the labor I always wanted, and because some people enjoy birth stories, well, here ya go. (If you don't want to read the birth story, you can scroll down for a picture of a super-cute baby!)

The day before the Bug was born, I was determined for him to come out. My doctor was planning to induce me because I went past my due date and an ultrasound showed the baby was big. Not a fan of pitocin, I desperately wanted the Bug to come out on his own. So I started the day with a plan. I took Fly for a bike ride over speed bumps. I went out and bought, then drank, raspberry leaf tea (which turns out probably doesn't do anything to encourage labor). I made super-spicy "jump start your labor" cookies as suggested by the Rookie Moms. For a week before, I had been walking as much as possible and trying just about any trick and old-wives' tale I heard about.

Nothing happened.

I woke up early the next day because I couldn't sleep. I did a little yoga -- for the first time during my whole pregnancy -- and watched the morning news while JP and Fly slept. It felt so good to move and stretch my body, which I hadn't been doing for months, and I felt the baby was almost moving and stretching with me.

I had an appointment then, when my OB had me do a non-stress test to get a read on the baby's heartbeat. I sat there for an hour while nurse after nurse tried to get the baby's heartbeat -- which was clearly audible -- to show up on the test machine's printout. It wasn't working, so the doctor told me to have the test done at the hospital and also to get another ultrasound. Perfect! Just what I wanted to do with my day. Did I mention I was trying to squeeze the doctor appointment in before JP had to go to work so he could watch Fly?

When I called JP to tell him I had to go to the hospital, he called his parents to come watch Fly, and we went to the hospital together. Everything checked out fine with the baby, who was still measuring big, and I begged the doctor to give me a couple more days on the induction on the evidence that the Bug was doing just fine in my womb.

JP and I stopped to pick up some lunch for ourselves and his parents to take back home. After eating, I started not feeling so good. Before his parents could go home, I decided to lie down. It was about 2 pm. I wondered if I might be going into labor. JP's parents went home.

By 3 pm, I started feeling mild contractions. Another hour went by, and I told JP maybe he should call his parents to come back. Fly had been napping, which was good timing, I guess. At some point, he woke up and came into my room, where JP was helping me time the contractions while I tried to use hypnobirthing techniques. I was able to relax through the contractions, for the most part -- I lasted longer with the hypnobirthing this time than with Fly.

Very quickly, the contractions started getting stronger and closer together. JP called our doula at 5 pm to tell her to come. Around 5:30, I felt the urge to pee, and my water broke while I was in the bathroom. JP called the doula again, and she was stuck in traffic. She told him to have me get in the tub and try to relax. By this time, the hypnobirthing wasn't working for me anymore. My in-laws were across the hall from the bathroom now, in Fly's room, and probably hearing every moan I made. Suddenly, I felt I couldn't stay in the tub anymore. I got out, and JP found me trying to put on some clothes and helped me get dressed.

I was about to tell him we should get going to the hospital without the doula when she arrived. I don't remember details at this point, except for really wishing I didn't have to go to the hospital and just have the baby at home because I dreaded the thought of getting in the car for the ride there. JP and our doula helped me into the car, and she followed us in her car to the hospital. I'm pretty sure JP broke several traffic laws, but I was too busy writhing in my seat to really notice.

Once I got checked at the hospital around 6:10, I was already 7 cm dilated. They put me in a labor and delivery room pretty fast. My nurse suggested getting an IV in me, but I was moving around a lot, and JP and my doula knew I didn't really want an IV and somehow I didn't end up with one.

I'm not really sure what all happened between the hospital check-in time and the time the Bug was born (7:47), but it didn't seem to me to be as long as an hour and a half. Someone would tell me how far along I was, or asked about when my OB was coming, and the contractions kept coming in waves. Finally, my doula told me I was going to have the baby and I said, "Don't tease me." I didn't think the baby could possibly come that quickly -- Fly took forever.

And then one contraction had a bonus: a strange urge, like the urge to throw up, except, well, of course, at the other end. I started pushing. This was strange to me because with Fly, I had an epidural, and my OB told me when to push because I didn't feel anything. (I pushed him out in eight minutes.)

My nurse naturally told me not to push because my OB hadn't arrived yet. But how can you tell someone not to throw up? Every push felt like a crash throughout the inside of my body. I'm pretty sure I sounded and looked like the Exorcist. This was torture, and yet I thought about my baby and how soon I would be holding him and this would all be over.

My OB arrived, and then everyone in the room tried to get me off my side and on my back, down to where the doctor was at the end of the bed. I basically refused, so they dragged me into position. JP told me he could see the baby's head. I couldn't believe it! A couple more pushes, and the little Bug was out and immediately in my arms, screaming heartily.

I shook.

Here was my 8-lb. 13-oz., 23-inch blessing.

He's perfect. And beautiful. (Today, he's 11 lbs. 5 oz. and 23-3/4 inches.)

Another blessing is I got to have the drug-free birth I wanted. No induction. And not even an IV. (Although that came later. Pitocin to make sure nothing remained in my uterus. Many of you probably know the drill.) I just thank God it went quickly and without any complications. It really was a perfect birth. At the thought of that, I'm amazed.

But I told JP at the time I didn't think I ever wanted to do that again. The pain! The crashing pushes! I still feel it when I cough, sneeze or laugh hard.

Basically, though, I'm just so thankful to have this baby and to have two healthy children. And who knows, maybe once again I'll forget about the labor pains, the pregnancy heartburn and backaches and fatigue, the tussle with nurses and doctors and appointments -- and want to have a third child. I really feel I'm getting too old for this babymaking business, but I can't rule out what is meant to be, can I?

After all, babies are kind of like potato chips: It's hard to stop at just one.

Especially when they're this sweet and cuddly.

Belly shots

Look at the photos my friend Guinevere took of me today! She's so talented.







Check out her photo blog here.

I didn't really want my picture taken much when I was pregnant with Fly. I don't know why I feel differently this time. I hope Fly doesn't care!

I Love You for Sentimental Reasons

Fly last fall; MissVivi quick page

When I started Growing A Life two and a half years ago, there was no way I could have imagined I would be where I am now -- that the blog would be where it is now. I didn't imagine the friends I would make, the tears of sadness or hysterics you would make me cry, the way I would feel like a better mother for spending time online consuming everything you've written about teething, breastfeeding, tantrums, making sacrifices, watching your babies sleep and falling in love with them every day in a million ways. Blogging -- mainly reading your blogs -- has been a lifesaver and something that keeps me going especially on days when nothing good seems to be happening or when nothing seems to please my high-energy, strong-willed but kind-hearted Fly.

As he grew more independent, last year I started another parenting blog more about our region of the world, as many of you know. (Hi, dual readers!) It has been great to have another place to write about being a mama, Fly's antics or just everyday life. That blog has surprisingly taken on a life of its own, earning me a "Blog of the Day" award from my local newspaper and especially the Nickelodeon Parent's Picks Awards nomination for our region.

Blogging here and there has been fun but also challenging. It's been hard to keep up with who knows me from which blog, how frequently have I posted where and what I said where. I know I've confused more than one of you with my split blog personality. With my baby coming less than a month from now, I know I will want to give him or her -- and JP and Fly -- my attention and not just sit at the computer. That wouldn't make for good blogging anyway.

So I decided Growing A Life will be my more personal blog -- which it already is. I probably won't post as often, but this is where I'll have baby pictures! And Fly photos! And more private news to share. So this blog isn't going anywhere. I'm too sentimental to banish my first love.

If you want to follow me to the other blog, though, I'd be so happy. Hope you'll stop by.

Passed down from Mom

Today is my mother's birthday. And tomorrow, of course, is Mother's Day. (Every so often, her birthday and Mother's Day are on the same day.)



She and my sister are here from out of state for a visit, so I get to treat them both a little bit. I have a little surprise planned for her tonight, actually!

I have briefly blogged here before about the ups and downs in my relationship with my mother, Cammy. When I was young, she wasn't especially interested in active parenting. My grandmother took care of me until she died. As soon as I was old enough by state law, I went to live with my dad.

For about 12 years, Cammy and I didn't communicate. Then after the Sept. 11 attacks, I got a letter from my sister. She broke the ice for Cammy and me. We slowly started get to know each other again. I learned about the healing power of forgiveness. My mother and I will probably never have a super close mother/daughter relationship, but we enjoy getting together a few times a year (despite the distance). We can laugh and have a good time together. There's definitely love there.

What's remarkable to me is that despite our troubles and our long time spent apart, when my mother and I (and my sister) are together, we laugh about how similar we are to one another. Even if my mother was often short on nurture when I was growing up, the nature aspect of parenting has definitely come through.

Physically, I'm a taller, darker-colored version of my mother. (Why couldn't I have gotten her pale green eyes? "Green eyes aren't photogenic," she once told me.) I have her broad shoulders, plump toes and unruly hair. I'm just now starting to recognize something of her voice in mine -- the sound as well as the expressions. We like a lot of the same foods.

Even though our personalities are different, it's a comfort to me to know someone is a bit similar to me and understands me (which I often didn't get from my stepmother). A feeling of belonging -- no matter how faint -- is a loving thing to pass on to your child. And that's what I have with Cammy.

- - - - -

This post is part of the Parent Bloggers Network Mother's Day Blog Blast sponsored by JOHNSON'S. Their second annual Celebrity Hand Me Down charity auction runs from 7 pm PT on Thursday May 7 through 7 pm PT on Thursday May 14, featuring items donated by celebrity moms Gwyneth Paltrow and Jessica Alba. All proceeds will benefit the new global JOHNSON'S® NO MORE TEARS® Clean Water initiative via their well-known charitable giving site, Baby Cause.

A more simple joy

Artist's self-portrait

As I reflect on the past week and the simple joys it brought, I find I am still amazed at this little boy who wasn't even a being three years ago. There was no child in our house for almost 12 years, and then he appeared "from a little dust and a little rain."

And it's going to happen again, next month -- a baby born out of a miracle, out of love.

I feel guilty on the days I am too tired or sick or achy or pregnant to play with Fly the way he deserves. But I'm thankful for days when I have the energy to do fun things with him.


Splash!

I feel guilty for not blogging or reading blogs because I just can't, but then I remind myself, once again, this is supposed to be fun and not another chore hanging over my head.

So I take whatever I can get out of each day, and go with that. Each day is a blessing, and you can't get a more simple joy than that.

Full-on ramble

- I can't seem to find a quarter of the things on my list when I go to a store lately. Not just food shopping, but places like Target or the craft store. I'm not looking for hard-to-find items. Has the recession made stores stop carrying stuff? I guess we'll know when people start fighting over the last package of toilet paper (er, "bathroom tissue" if you're fancy).

- My health insurance company asked me to enroll in a healthy-pregnancy program that would give me access to a nurse on the phone around the clock. It sounded good until they kept calling and leaving messages, and then when I would return the calls and be on hold for three minutes, I'd hang up. And the process would start over again. When I actually got to talk to someone to find out what they wanted, it was a guy asking me questions about very private parts, and I told him I wanted out of the program. Two weeks later, they sent me a $50 gift card and a guidebook to pregnancy. I hurried and spent the money before they realized what had happened . . . .

- Related to that, I am running out of patience lately. Or at least, I don't seem to have a great tolerance for Fly's shenanigans. The past few days of terrible-two behavior have had me greatly stressing. And I had myself a little meltdown yesterday. JP was there for me. He came home early and told me to get out of the house for a little while. I love him. Marriage definitely has its perks. He didn't even blink when I told him I'd send him a postcard.

- By the way, does anyone know how to get a two-and-a-half-year-old to listen and do what he's told?

- Specifically, not to run away from me and make me chase him and then carry him bodily back to where he needs to be? My pregnant body just isn't up for that anymore. This is how fast I have to run to catch up to him:



- And because today is Take Your Child to Work Day, I think it would be a splendid idea for JP to do just that.

- A friend told me crushed Cap'n Crunch cereal was good to coat chicken with before you bake it. Another friend said wheat germ was good too. So I bought both. Guess which one I've already had two bowls full of?

- Speaking of Cap'n Crunch, have you looked at the box lately? Doesn't it seem as though the company has "Sponge Bob-ized" the look of all the characters? Everyone looks stark raving mad.

- I am thinking about getting my hair cut. As in, seriously shortened. I've had short hair three times in my life. See my blog header? My hair isn't that long. But it has been. However, I just don't have time for it. Or patience. (See above.) And when the baby comes, it will probably look like a rat's nest unless I cut it to a length I can maintain because it is inhumanely thick (I get it thinned once or twice a year) and curly (but not in a good way). I just do not want to turn my hair into a hobby.

- So what's a good style for a hexagon-shaped face?

- We were going to go away this weekend to use tickets to a water theme park we bought before the Junebug came into being. Now we have about a month to use the tickets before they expire, and I am forbidden from going down any water slides while pregnant even though it is one of the most fun things to do in the world. (Yes, I am 11 years old.) Our plan was to drive there Friday night, play in the water on Saturday and come home Sunday. But we had to buy a new water heater unexpectedly. And a car-repair bill cost about 40% more than estimated. Now our dishwasher is broken. And we have to pay the doula. So two nights at a hotel would be financially irresponsible. If I could just talk JP into driving there and back on the same day, then we wouldn't need a hotel . . . .

- Actually, it might be easier to talk myself out of thinking it would be fun to heft my big, lazy body around a place where a bunch of skinny people were walking around and having a great time on the water slides. ("That should be me . . . sob!") Yeah, maybe not the best way to spend a Saturday.

Talk about talk

Believe it or not, at one time in my life, I considered studying for an advanced degree in linguistics. Language, semantics, alphabets and how people communicate have always fascinated me.

I'm also fascinated by chocolate. But . . . you know.

At the time, though, it seemed options for linguistics people were teaching (on a community college or university level) or research (images of teaching sign language to gorillas came to mind). Neither path was my cuppa joe.

But later, I realized linguistics researchers also study how children learn language. And that did grab my attention.

Even before I considered becoming a mom, I enjoyed talking with toddlers and preschoolers. The way they speak is so free -- they don't know all the language rules, they haven't learned the words for everything and they aren't constrained by colloquialisms. They usually don't even know what's appropriate to say. Their whole thought process for getting across what they want to express is unhindered by the language conventions we learn as we get older. That kind of freedom of mind and tongue is amazing to think about. Here are people who communicate from their own unique, brand-new, fresh perspective on the world.

Today is the first day I realized Fly is really and truly talking. Not just a few phrases he has learned. Not just yes-or-no answers to my questions. Not just to say the alphabet, count, or point out shapes or colors. Fly formulates his own ideas, asks questions, tells me what he wants (or more likely, what he doesn't want) and narrates what he is doing.

Fly is talking!



Not only is my munchkin now a walking, talking child I can have an actual conversation with, but I get to experience that freedom of mind and tongue I so admire.

I feel so lucky.

And yet . . . .

My adult mind is already wondering how I'm going to put up with constant little-people chatter!

30-week belly bump

I'm so sorry this is all you get. I felt super sick today, and there's no way I was about to show my face.

I'm also sorry this is all you get, because super friend Guinny and I conspired to have her photograph me on the beach, but it didn't work out. Very soon, I hope . . . .

Yesterday was my last appointment with the genetic counselor. My little Junebug still has a bright spot on the heart. But again, the doctor doesn't seem to be concerned because everything else looks normal -- as far as you can tell by an ultrasound. The baby measured big, too, at three and a half pounds (78 percentile, supposedly), so I guess I'm doing something right. (Although my OB said ultrasound measurements can be off by as much as a pound.)

The best part is JP and I got to see the baby's face. Sort of. If I can wrangle the pictures from the proud papa, I will try to post one . . . .

What I didn't know about motherhood

Did anyone see the "Secret Lives of Moms" show on Oprah yesterday? There was some blogger and Twitter buzz about it because Dooce appeared on the show. (Dooce, the blogger and writer who needs no introduction or explanation -- she was on Oprah because of her blog! And her book.)

I don't watch Oprah much, but I tried to catch a bit of the show yesterday. Moms were confessing things they have done and talking about how hard motherhood is and how they sometimes feel like failures. And it seemed a good part of the show was about how no one tells you stuff like this is going to happen before you become a mom.

I might have mentioned here before that a friend tried to warn me about some of motherhood's rougher areas -- but she did it at my baby shower. Where everyone was happy. Where people were talking about Fly with excitement. Where I was opening gift after sweetly wrapped gift. Where I likely had a sugar high.

That's not a good time to tell the mom-to-be, "You know, motherhood is tough. Sometimes your baby won't sleep, and so you won't sleep, either, and that alone can make you go crazy. A baby can put a strain on your marriage. Have you and JP talked about this?" That kind of thing. My friend caught me off guard. I tried -- but probably failed -- to appear interested in what she was saying while giving her non-replies.

Thinking back to my baby shower, and thinking about yesterday's Oprah show, I wonder if it really would have made a difference if my friend had tried to talk to me in a different time or place. Every one of us moms might have a "I wish had known about" list in our minds when it comes to being a mom.

But I'm not sure if it would have mattered if my friend had taken a different tack with me. I think some things you have to learn on your own, from experience -- and I think motherhood is probably one of them. Of course, having some knowledge beforehand can prepare you on one level, but living it day to day? I don't think anyone can really prepare you for that.

I had read breastfeeding is actually hard. But I didn't know in Fly's first several weeks that I would come to dread every time he had to eat because it made me cry in pain.

I knew I would lose sleep. Duh. But I didn't know sleep deprivation does nasty things to your mind and your personality.

I knew I wouldn't have much time for myself. But I didn't know that would mean my skin would feel like it was crawling after three days without a shower, or that I would feel invisible passing beautiful young women in the store, or that part of me would be desperate to travel a couple hours away to snorkel, hike or look for birds.

I knew JP and I would need to adjust to being a threesome with our Flybaby after having been just the two of us since we met each other at 15. But I didn't realize I would have rather uncharitable thoughts toward JP because his life hasn't seemed to have changed as much as mine and because I still get jealous of him whenever he's sick because he goes straight to bed and just lies there until he's better (which I can't do).

I had a mild notion that it could be hard to stay home with a baby all day, but I didn't know even two and a half years later that every day I wrack my brain to answer, "What am I going to do with this child all day?"

Motherhood is too big of a life change to be prepared and ready to tackle everything that comes at you. And as your child grows, new challenges come at you all the time. I was just talking with a friend last night -- an "experienced mom" -- who says worrying over your kids can get worse after they have left the house and started their own families.

Once a mom, always a mom.

So while I think it's definitely helpful to clue in a mom-to-be with the realities of what it's like to be a mom, I don't think anyone can expect to really know what they're getting into. Each child is different, anyway. The only way to work motherhood is just jump in there and do what has to be done for your individual child. We each write our own manual by day-to-day parenting.

And maybe that's the ultimate advice for moms-to-be: be prepared, get advice or help. And write your own mama script every day.

Ugh.

If your second trimester is supposed to be your energetic trimester, then I am doomed once the home stretch arrives in a couple weeks.

I'm just so tired lately that I often don't even want to think about doing anything. I keep going, though, mostly for Fly's sake, and also because I hope Newton's Law of Motion with all that stuff about inertia applies to pregnant women. You know, bodies in motion tend to stay in motion and all that. Because this body just wants to lie down or sit at every opportunity.

It's also hard when like a fourth of your weight is sticking out in front of you and seems to double every week or so, and you feel like your stomach is going to split open if you just move the wrong way.

I know all of this isn't anything generations of pregnant women haven't endured as well. I just feel like whining, I guess. Forgive me.

And now I feel like going back to resting....

Creatures great and small

Being knocked flat on your fanny for more than a week by some microorganisms sure has a way of putting things into perspective. It's hard to be thankful for the simple joys in life when you are suffering in misery.

But then, I should know how small creatures can take over your life.

In the case of Fly and the little Junebug, a full-on life invasion is a good thing -- and I'm thankful.

25-week belly bump

The baby is a-popping.

Things to keep in mind:

I have been sick for three days with some kind of cold. Or maybe it's bubonic plague.

Despite that, I gave in and included my head in the photo, as I was criticized last time for just showing my belly. Silly me, I thought that's all anyone was interested in.

The color of my bathroom walls really isn't "American Revolution Era Parchment."

Those flowers really aren't attacking my butt.

I have no better ideas on how to take a self-portrait, so if you have some tips, I'd appreciate them!

The ladybits aisle

To join Heather at Cool Zebras for Simply Joy Sunday, can I just say how happy and relieved I am when I pass this aisle in the supermarket?



For months, I'd face this part of the store once or twice a week and wonder if I would ever have a need again to take a pregnancy test. It would just make me want a baby even more. That maternal need for a baby really messes with your head.

And now, I'm expecting a baby. And our family (well, most of our family) is so happy.

Joy in the paradox

In these days when I alternate between sleeplessness and not having the chance to sleep enough ... when I look forward to meeting my baby for the first time while wishing I had more time until the baby arrives ... when I feel young while acting as Fly's playmate but old while enforcing the rules ... when I express thanks for the life JP and I have been blessed with yet still feel there should be more ... I know there is joy in the paradox.

Like a boy who runs so fast he seemingly levitates.



A stolen solitary moment to dream, scheme and visualize despite my lack of energy to do anything about it.



Realizing how colorful life really is, while often feeling drab myself.



And enjoying the beauty of small things that are, collectively, rather grand.

Someday, I might visit the Bahamas and actually not be pregnant

So over the weekend, we went to the Bahamas (I know!) to celebrate our anniversary. It was a wedding anniversary for JP and me, but it was also a sort of anniversary for Fly, who visited the Bahamas in utero on our "babymoon."

Although it's been a year and a half since Fly got his passport, this was his first international trip. (Come to think of it, it was also his first out-of-state trip.)

But Fly discovered some aspects of international travel aren't all that glamorous, like waiting in lines at the cruise port before the sun even rose.



The promise of getting on a big boat helped, though.



And it was great to look out our cabin window and see the ocean.



Or not.

The cabin was small, and the beds were slightly more comfortable than ambulance stretchers, and some characters think it's funny to photograph people while they are sleeping.



When we settled into our resort in Port Lucaya, we discovered in a cruel slap from Mother Nature that the temperature was actually a bit cooler in the Bahamas than it was at home. For about two hours, though, it was warm enough to play on the beach.





We also spent some time in the marketplace square, which couldn't be more charming.



At nighttime, there is live music in the square. Fly asked me to dance.



But he quickly turned his attention to another woman.



I couldn't compete with that.

It was fun going back to the same place we went to three years ago, only this time with friends -- and a toddler.

Not much had changed there since last time. See? Here I was, six months pregnant with Fly:



And back again, four months along with our little Junebug:



Even if I couldn't enjoy the fruity Bahama Mama drinks, I guess I kind of am a Bahama Mama.



JP and I are so glad we went back -- and we feel so blessed to have each other and celebrate another year of togetherness.

Help me figure out the unsolved mystery

My mother, Cammy, thinks she is pretty clever.

She called me last week to say she sent me a package . . . and that the package has a hidden message.

How very mysterious!

The suspense nearly killed me!

One thing you can't do to me is tell me you have a surprise or some news and then leave me hanging. GAH! JP does this to me all the time! Mainly, because he knows it drives me crazy. I love surprises, but don't tell me about it beforehand.

Luckily, I survived to receive and open my mother's package. I had assumed it was a little Valentine's Day gift for Fly. But this is what she sent:





OK. Grandma's cookies. I get it -- she's a grandma. (All her grandkids call her Nan.) There are two cookies in the package, and two cookies in the card -- and I will have two children come June.

But Nan's package also contained this:



The label is "Clear Crystale."

I've never been a real detective type, so I'm hoping you, teh internets, could help me out.

Am I reading too much into it? Or am I just that dense?

Simply Joy Sunday

Heather at Cool Zebras is celebrating "the little things in life that bring me joy and happiness" with her Simply Joy Sundays. I thought this was a cool idea, especially because I've noticed a theme of sorts in my life this week -- little references here and there in real life and also the overall desire to live in the present moment -- as well as an invitation to join the Grace in Small Things social network.

This week, I've been happy to have been asked to play with one of the cutest little boys in the whole world.



I've enjoyed the furrypurryness of our cats, including this one who wanted to sleep on top of me last night.



I am thankful for quiet, deserted beaches . . . (even if it was too darn cold to do anything but shuffle around in the sand for a few minutes)



. . . and peaceful resting spots.

Hugs wanted

I knew this time would come. I've heard about it from mom friends, read about it on your blogs. And now I'm mourning the loss.

The loss of the hug! The loss of snuggle time!

Fly has moved on.

In the mornings, I used to be able to count on a minute of just holding onto my boy. I'd hold him close, kiss his soft cheek, murmur good-morning wishes and pass along other happy thoughts to him while I enjoyed a little munchkin cuddle.

But now, I barely get in a quick squeeze before he wants to be put down, or get off my lap, so he can grab toy cars by the handful or lead me to the kitchen for a drink.

If you ask him, "Can I have a hug? Can I have a kiss?" he usually says, "No!" and goes on playing. Sometimes, though, he obliges.

And sometimes Fly spontaneously wraps himself around my legs to give me a hug. I love it! But my arms and chest are jealous. They know they are the ones who are supposed to give and get the hug.

All the holding him close, all the kisses I've given him . . . and now I'm a mama lacking in baby love.

At least until the new baby comes in June . . . .

So much for clean underwear

Lately, I've been taking a shower at night, after Fly is in bed. I like feeling fresh as I settle into the sheets, and the water helps me relax at the end of the day.

I've been feeling pretty good about myself and this pregnancy. When people ask how I am, that's what I usually tell them -- "pretty good." I am thankful because despite my little pregnancy annoyances, I know it could be much worse. I was reflecting on this as I left the bathroom after my shower when the Sneeze of All Sneezes came out of my head. This wasn't just a loud "ACHOO!" It was more like a full-body earthquake. I'm certain it registered on a Richter scale somewhere.

And then I realized it had happened.

I, um, lost control.

I wet my undies!

I thought this wasn't supposed to happen until after childbirth?!

OK, let the Depends jokes come forth . . . .