A Good Thought and FAQs

Today we had lunch with some people that Nathan knows that go to the church we have been attending. I have to say, I felt REALLY bad about having them make us lunch. They have a 3 year old, an 18 month old, and a baby that was born the beginning of September. But the invite was out there, and we DO want to be friends, so what can you say? Sorry, you have too many children and you probably don't get enough sleep so we cannot be your guests. So we went. The mother of the children said something that both Nathan and I thought was worth thinking about it. Her little 18month old was giving things. Toys, random objects, whatever. Ethan likes to do that, too. When he meets someone new he always looks for something to give them. I think my brother's mother-in-law got the pepper shaker and an elmo last night. Anyway, Nathan commented that the little girl was such a sweet giver. The mother said, "Attachment parented kids don't mind giving because they have all their needs met. They don't feel they have to take everything." Hmmm. I never thought about it like that. It made me feel encouraged that maybe we did do the right thing in how we have been parenting. A lot of people in my life are naysayers against Attachment Parenting, and I have to admit, I don't have any experience turning out amazing kids, so Ethan is kind of a test run on this whole parenting thing Nathan and I have been trying out.

Ok, on to FAQs. My friend, Kate, keeps giving me blog ideas, but I am not sure I have enough to say about each particular idea, so I have compiled them into a form of questions that I am frequently asked and the answers that I would LIKE to give. I do NOT actually give these answers. I say something far more polite, but this is my dream of what I would say if I had no convictions on how to treat others, and my own set of balls.

1. Q: When are you due?
A: I am not pregnant. My husband just likes to grab a little something extra around the middle and I like to be able to provide that.

2. Q: Do you know what you are having?
A: I do. And its not your business. You are a stranger and have no right to my personal information. Besides, you will probably end up being one of those people I run into after my baby is born and call it a "she" when he is clearly dressed in blue or sports stuff.

3. Q: Do you have a name picked out?
A: Yep. Jesus. We are naming him after this great guy we know. A personal hero, if you will.

Frequent Statements

4. S: Wow, your stomach keeps getting bigger and bigger!
R: Yeah, that is usually how it works.

5. S: You are doing great! (said in context of me at the gym)
R: I cannot believe you are giving me feedback on my workout. What if I did that to you? Wouldn't you find that a bit odd?

I know. I am a rude, mean person on the inside. I think the problem is, I am a very shy person, and having random people that I do not know give me attention and ask personal questions just really embarrasses me, and bothers me. I prefer to keep a low profile. Please, gush over my baby when he gets here, but ignore the gigantic stomach and do NOT ask me again any of the FAQs.

I do have just a couple of questions of my own to the world around me:

Is there anything else you want to know about my private life? Really. Anything at all. Would you like to be kept up to date on how my labor is progressing? Like, have I passed the mucus plug, has my water broken, can anyone see the head, do you want to be fed a live feed on a website so you can watch the baby exit my vag? Just lemme know. I am only to happy to satisfy your curiosity.

By the Way, any of these questions that are asked my good friends and family, I am more than happy to provide real, true, and polite answers.

You know its time to go into labor when...

You know its time to go into labor when:

1. Your maternity clothes don't fit anymore.

2. Your one year old has to help you out of bed.

3. Your one year old keeps falling out of your lap and grabbing on to your tender boobs as handles to help him back up.

4. Your baby can simultaneously kick your diaphragm and punch your cervix. I mean, really. There is Just. No. More. Room.

5. You can no longer sit or lay down comfortably and standing makes your back and feet ache.

6. You long for drive-thru grocery stores because the idea of walking back to your car that is parked far away in 95 degree heat when your one year old may or may not be screaming a protest about one thing or another makes you want to cry.

7. You are losing sleep because of being uncomfortable and it really seems like you might as well just have the baby because at least then when you are not sleeping, it won't be because you are uncomfortable, but because you are spending time with an amazing new little person.

8. Your belly button sticks out like a thermometer on a cooked thanksgiving day turkey signaling that you are indeed, "done."

9. When random strangers ask you when you are due you and you say, you aren't pregnant and that your husband just likes a little something extra in the middle, they know you are lying.

10. You start blogging about these silly things because that is all you think about when you are trying to go to sleep and can't because as I mentioned, you are uncomfortable.

Baby Brother Doll

So, I haven't blogged for a while because my in-laws came and the only things I had to write about that were funny to me, I didn't feel they were appropriate to blog about...Certain people may not share my sense of humor over certain situations, and I wouldn't want to hurt anyone's feelings for the sake of a funny blog. After they left Ethan got sick, and then my car broke down three times, and I have only recently been inspired to write about something that isn't me gripping. This is my latest story-

Ethan received his first baby doll. He had never shown interest in his cousin Paige's dolls. He would pick them up and laugh, give them a little shake, and when he realized that they didn't light up, make music, or do anything he finds entertaining, he would toss it to the side and search for something more to his liking. Now he has a "baby brother doll." We gave it to him to help teach the concept of what we will do with a little baby when it comes. To my shock and disbelief, this is his new favorite game. He LOVES Baby Brother Doll. He asks me to change his diaper, and fix his swaddle if it becomes loose. He does his best to make sure the pacifier is placed where it belongs, in Baby Brother's mouth. He carries him around, and is delighted by my suggestions to put Baby Brother Doll in the bouncy seat. He gives Baby Brother Doll lots of hugs and kisses. He absolutely does NOT want Baby Brother Doll to go to bed. If we suggest such a thing he cries and pleads, "no, no, no." I hand Baby Brother back to him and tell him, "lets put Baby Brother back in his bouncy seat, then." Nathan is a bit more, shall we say, strict, than I am, and enforces Baby Brother Doll's nap time despite Ethan's tearful protests.

I am really hoping, that Ethan will like the real Baby Brother when he comes. At least half as much as the doll would be great.

Nesting

I made up a poem.
Nesting, oh, nesting
I hate you, you stink
I wish I could wash you away in the sink.
Okay, I stole a good portion of that from the poem Homework. For some reason my nesting instinct that tends to strike all mothers in the final days of pregnancy hits me early. Last time I was 29 weeks along. This time, again, I was 29 weeks. I am currently 30 for those of you who like to keep up on this kind of thing. For Ethan, at 29 weeks I started buying everything I thought I needed and set up the room. It took several weeks, and then the cleaning started. We were living in our apartment in Seattle so there was really only so much cleaning to be done so when I finished all the usual cleaning I would sit and stare around and try to figure out what I should clean next. Cleaning the blinds was my focus project. I spent hours at a time, which turned into days of cleaning those stupid blinds. I would scrub and scrub, then dry, and then stand back and examine my work. It was never good enough. I finally stopped when my arms and back hurt too much to continue. Blinds 1, Beth 0. I don't think I ever bothered to clean them again after that. Last week I spent an hour and a half scrubbing my kitchen. I always spend a lot of time on the counter tops because it is hard to tell if they are clean because of the color. I clean them and then feel them with my hand. Again, never clean enough. I scrubbed the cabinets, the handles, the refrigerator, cleaned out the refrigerator and cabinets of old food, cleaned the dishwasher, scrubbed the sink, and then Ethan needed to eat lunch and take a nap so I stopped. I was also on a smell rampage. I smell pee all the time. Baby pee, dog pee, its everywhere. I was determined to exterminate it. Nathan went to the store to buy air freshner to stop my frenzy. This week I have the carpet cleaners scheduled for Tuesday to get rid of it in the carpet and I bought baby gates to keep Piper out of the carpeted areas for the rest of her existence. The thing is, I hate cleaning. I am not one of those people that enjoys it and gets satisfaction from it. My problem is, I like it clean, and my cleaning is never good enough for me so it consumes me. It concerns me that I have 10 weeks approximately of pregnancy left and a lot more square footage to live in than the last time I was pregnant and I worry about my obsessive compulsive nesting taking over or that I will clean it and it won't stay that way because I have a messy one-year old now. So I hate nesting. I wish I could live in ignorant bliss of dust, mold, and pee smells.

Sugar and Spice vs. Puppy Dog Tails

After a long wait at the doctor office Ethan really needed to move (no gestational diabetes btw-fudge here I come). We went to the park with my niece, Paige-20 months, and my sister-in-law, Christa-age not disclosed. Ethan and I arrived first. After 10 seconds on the swing he wanted down. He made a beeline for one of the jungle gyms and tried to climb up the slide backwards, which he did by the way, and I was very impressed. When he gets to the top of the jungle gym he sits in a puddle of dirty water and then puts his face in it. He looks at me in shock and disgust. "Yes, Ethan, that is yucky. Yucky." He slaps the puddle as if to make it pay for tasting so bad. Enter Paige. Ethan climbs down the jungle gym as fast as he can to say hi to his cousin. Paige comes prancing toward us in a pink dress, white socks, black patent leather shoes, a pink bow on top of her head, and pink sunglasses. She immediately heads for the swings that Ethan has rejected. Once her mom has her in the swing she grips the ball she brought ferociously as to protect it from Ethan's hands. Ethan runs the other way and proceeds to explore all the playground has to offer. 30 seconds digging in the sand, 5 seconds on the teeter totter, 10 seconds for the big kid swings on my lap. He hunts for something else to do. I point to Paige who is still sitting serenely in her swing. Christa is standing 6 feet away in the shade. This looks like an ideal situation to me. "See Paige? Lets go see Paige." Ethan runs to the swings. Something about the situation he finds funny and he laughs. He darts over to the tallest slide in the park and begins to make his way to the top. I follow after to make sure he doesn't fall. Christa and I are close enough to chat now and we are discussing schools, I think. I notice Ethan is diving head first down the slide. "Ah! Christa! Can you catch him at the bottom?" Christa graciously runs to the slide and catches Ethan before he lands headfirst into a dirty pile of water on the end of the slide. This gives Ethan an idea. He begins to take fist fulls of sand and pile it in the dirty water. Christa and I stand back in the shade as Paige sits in her swing calmly, still clutching her ball, and Ethan puts sand on the slide. Out of the corner or my eye I see him putting sand down his shirt and laughing about it. Ethan runs over to the tire and tries to figure out why it is supposed to be interesting. It isn't. He goes back to digging. I look at my little boy, wet, dirty, and smiling. I look at Paige. She is as pretty as when she came. The difference between boys and girls hits me. "Can you believe you are going to have TWO boys?" Christa asks. No, I really can't sometimes. "Its really going to be something." I say staring at my dirty happy little boy. Christa and I decide it is really hot and we should take them to get something to eat. "Ethan, lets go bye-bye." He runs to the car at full speed, trips, and gets back up again and runs to the door of the car. He tries to open it. I think being the one to open the car door symbolizes power to him. I hear Paige screaming at the top of her lungs behind me, "NO!NO!NOOOOO!!!" as her mom is putting her in the car seat. I guess moms of little girls have issues, too.

Friday Night Entertainment: LIVE!

Some people go to parties on Friday nights. Some go to concerts. Others go to the movies. Or so I have heard, anyway. Nathan and I spent our time watching Ethan. He is learning that if he spins around multiple times, that he will get dizzy, and he finds this very funny. He spins. He stops. He tries to walk in a straight line. He gets woozy. He laughs hysterically. Repeat. Nathan and I laugh too. We are all entertained.

Inner Beauty Goal Update

I just thought I would come clean. In my last post I made a few goals based on the principle that I would focus on my Inner Beauty because my outer beauty was looking pretty bleak with my butt growing at approximately the same rate as my uterus/stomach region. Every year my parents and paternal grandparents give me a hefty amount of birthday money. It is the one reason I continue to look forward to birthdays. I don't usually have all that much spending money that I feel I can really spend on myself with out feeling guilty, because I am a stay-at-home mom and that means being cautious of spending so I can continue to stay-at-home with my babies without stressing out my husband (well, trying to keep the spending stress on low instead of high for him at least). Last year I didn't use all my birthday money up until December. This year it is gone before birthday week has come to a close. I have spent all of it, and a little more than all of it, on myself. Not just on myself, but on my Outer Beauty Quest which was supposedly null and void. I lied. I spent almost $200 on make-up from Lancome, and over $500 on a hair treatment that makes my hair stay straight so that I don't have to a) blow-dry my hair and neglect my busy one year old while he gets into who-knows-what b) feel bad about myself because I never take care of my hair and look bad every single day. (I am embarrassed to tell you the actual amount, but I would also like to say there WAS a generous tip envolved). I would also like to mention that I didn't buy any new clothes. Lastly, Ethan spilled water on my computer and all blogs from here on out will not include paragraphs as my enter key does not work. Anyway, I feel these purchases will improve my quality of life because if I am going to be tired with dark circles under my eyes, be covered in food that is leftover from my toddlers grubby hands, and soon to be covered in spit-up, at least my make-up and hair is in tact.