On the feast of Saint Lucy

I hardly ever write about seriously stuff. Sometimes I do, sometimes I sound a lot more serious than I am actually trying to be. My days are plenty serious, but I try to keep this blog as more of an outlet for making my days feel less serious, finding the humor in things like vomit, diarrhea, violent angry toddler tantrums, etc... Either way, today I am going to mix things up and be semi-serious.

See, look how serious I am

It is the feast of Saint Lucy today, a big one in our house since this is the first year that we have our own little Lucy to celebrate with. I will probably bake some cookies that she can't eat in honor of the day, any excuse to load up on sugary baked goods.

It was also a year ago today that I found out I was expecting our baby that we lost, Ignatius John.
I've read so many great posts on miscarriage and the loss of babies, many that have been extremely comforting and inspiring. I am not trying to write one of those and definitely not trying to preach about anything. I have only lost one baby so far and it was a very early miscarriage, not that that lessens the loss, but I don't feel like I have a bunch of wisdom or inspiration to offer anyone, maybe comfort, but that would be by accident.

Today just has me thinking about how the little baby that we lost, even though we never got to hold him or see him on an ultrasound, has changed me in a lot of ways that I did not expect.

Before we concieved Naomi I had some weird unfounded fears of infertility and for a few days thought a lot about what it would be like to never be given a child-- then a whole 3 weeks after our honeymoon we found out we were expecting her and the fears went out the window. I had a teeny bit of bleeding at the begining of that pregnancy where I worried about miscarriage but then it went away and so did my worries.

After giving birth to Naomi I felt like I was punched in the face with the difficulties that accompany motherhood: the discomforts, the sleep loss, the innumerable things that a baby does to mess with my routine and all the things I wanted or needed to do, even just go to the bathroom-- my attitude became pretty sour.

Then when Naomi was 9 months old we conceived Bernadette. When we found out about the pregnancy I spent most of the day crying, worrying and being completely scared and overwhelmed. How was I going to get through the first few months of feeling awful with a baby to care for? How was I going to continue to nurse her? What my milk dried up and couldn't nurse anymore?

And it was really hard. Naomi has always been a ridiculously early riser, so the 5 a.m. mornings feeling like I was going to barf and trying to stay awake to care for her were really tough. Miscarriage certainly never entered my thoughts. Fertility had started to become a burden in my mind by this point. We had gotten pregnant 2 times in a row first shot out of the box, all the typical pregnancy symptoms followed, and then we had a healthy perfect baby. This was just what happened to an ultrafertile gal like myself. Or so I thought.

Once Bernadette was 3 months old I started freaking out about the possibility of becoming pregnant again, I was an anxious wreck any time I felt even a twinge of nausea for many months, even though my fertility did not even return until she was 10 months old. I had talked a lot about wanting a huge gap between kid 2 and 3. I had finally lost all the weight from both pregnancies and then some, I was happy with how I felt and looked and we had a great routine and good schedules for the girls. Changing that did not sound fun.

Conversations surrounding openness to life for me and Mike often ended in an argument because I was sure that he just did not understand all that I would be burdened with if we got pregnant again. The conversations always left me feeling put upon and overwhelmed. After all, I was the one who was going to bear this child, I was the one who would get sick, feel exhausted, not enjoy eating for months, and everything else that goes along with pregnancy. I would be the one who would give birth to the baby. I would be the one losing most of he sleep after the baby came, etc...

Eventually I softened to the idea of another baby and, of course, the first time we "were open" to getting pregnant, we got pregnant. I had a feeling that I was since I was having some of the symptoms that I typically have leading up to finding out, then on December 13, 2011, we got the positive pregnancy test. I was actually really excited, unexpectedly so for me. I only cried from feeling overwhelmed a couple times, but mostly I cried tears of joy.

You can read the rest of that experience here.

We found out that we miscarried only 3 weeks after finding out we were expecting.
It obviously did not take long for us to conceive again after we lost that baby. However the difference in my attitude leading up to conceiving Lucy and after finding out we were expecting her was worlds different. In the weeks of waiting to get pregnant again after miscarrying I would have given anything to be pregnant. I was so scared of how long it would take us, and had no expectation whatsoever that we would conceive quickly, although I was hopeful that we would.

All of the sudden my fertility became in my mind what it is: a gift, a completely undeserved and gratuitous gift. And another baby became in my mind what it actually is: a person who belongs first to God who gives him/her to me to have as a gift. I always knew these things, but at some point I had stopped acting like this was the case. After the miscarriage I would find myself just staring at Noami and Bernadette feeling so badly for taking their coming into existence so for granted and feeling more grateful than ever that they had been given to me.

Finding out that we were pregnant with Lucy was surreal and so exciting and so different than any other time finding out- it felt so precarious. I was sure at so many points during the pregnancy that we were going to lose her. I remember saying to Mike one night how amazed I was going to be if nothing went wrong and if we actually got to hold this baby. I spent so much time- too much time- worrying that something would go wrong.

But there was a real change that will probably always remain: I knew this baby was a freely given and undeserved gift and that I was not in control of it. It did not feel like a burden, but a gift. A gift that would ask lots of sacrifice, yes, but still a gift. And since Lucy's birth I have stared at her in a new way, a way that I couldn't have if I had never lost the baby before her.

If children are given to us to aid in our conversion, than Ignatius' life has done more from his mere 5 weeks on earth than I ever would have imagined and I am eternally grateful.

Happy feast day! 

Fake it til you make it

Now that I have shared with everyone on the world wide web how things are really going over here, I thought I would share with anyone who cares a few techniques I have come up with to cope with the day to day.

I am surely in NO position to give any advice, so that is absolutely NOT what I am doing. This is more of a reminder for my future self since I can't even remember what I ate for lunch let alone what helped me with the baby transition in a few years when another babe pops out. SO this is for me. And you if you are desperate and willing to take advice from a mediocre mom like me.

I've decided that the best course of action for me is incorporate things into my life that give the illusion that I've got it together, even though I most certainly do not. Also, my expectations are super low, that is also key.

Here are 3 things that have been helping-- wine and coffee are a given every day. And lots of prayer (ejaculatory prayers in my many moments of sleep deprived desperation. I'm being over dramatic. Or am I?)

These all start with the letter S so it's easy to remember: bonus!!

1) Showering. while I do not always-or if I am honest ever- wash my face at night anymore, it has been pretty key for me to shower each morning. I know a whole lot of women that this is not the case for, they just don't need to shower every day. However I seriously NEED to shower every day. If I don't I feel nasty and cranky. And if I do, I at least feel like I have it all together, even though I don't: it's all about illusions.

This is one thing that is worthy of a little video watching in my opinion, all I need is 15 minutes, so a short video works just fine:

I thought this was preferable to a picture of me in the shower. You. are. welcome.

 2) Socializing. I may have mentioned in various posts how I've been getting out of the house with all 3 children fairly frequently. This is because I'm a pretty extroverted person who needs to talk to people or else I start to get anxious and twitchy. If it is too much for me to get out of the house, it always ends up being worth it to call a friend and invite them over. It is also why blogging has not totally stopped for me since it is my other favorite way of socializing, even though it is via the interwebs. It doesn't matter- I love it all and it all helps a lot with early post partum stir-craziness.

And the kids love it too. Yes, they are devouring the sugar cookie creche.

3) Spanx. Maybe you don't own a pair, but they have been my best friend during these early days after having a baby and feeling extra fluffy. I do not wear them every day but I've worn them a lot when going out: to Mass, out with Mike, to some play dates or other social functions.

the only reason I fit into any of this 2 weeks after birthing Lucy

It may seem super vain of me (because it is) but it just helps me feel my best during the days where the baby-having pouch is sticking out extra far. It's nice to not have to feel like I have to suck it in all the time and it helps with fitting in to certain pants, skirts and dresses that would not otherwise fit. I haven't had to wear them as much recently because I am actually fitting into a lot more, but for the first 6 weeks they were my bff.

Obviously there are other, way less vain and way more important, methods of coping, but these are a few that don't necessarily come to mind right away for me. I also tend to get all guilty for feeling like I need these things, but generally they've helped me to feel better about myself and less crushed by intensity that is the newborn time and therefore help me to be a better mom and person. I am always open to other suggestions.

And now here is a completely unrelated video of Bernadette scolding the lobsters and crabs apparently living on our kitchen floor threatening to eat her clementines. Grace, you're not the only one perpetually pealing those stupid things. (It sounds like I am telling Naomi to stop in a mean voice, but rest assured I am just telling Bernadette to yell at the crabs and lobsters.)

Reality

I woke up the this morning the same way I have almost every morning since Lucy's birth: yesterday's mascara smeared under my eyes because, once again, I did not wash my face before bed the night before.

Sick, I know.

Why would you not even take a few minutes to do such an easy, hygienic, thing Ana? The answer is that I have put Lucy to sleep in the moby wrap nearly every night since her birth and in order to get her to stay asleep I need to gingerly take her out of it and then lay right next to her and go to sleep myself. Pathetic? Yes. Very. But this is a phase and I know it will pass.

A typical Ana sighting these days

I am not a huge baby-wearing advocate, but I am a huge not-hearing-baby-cry-any-more-than-I-need-to advocate, and it's too early to have her cry it out. Hence the baby-wearing.

I am also not a huge co-sleeping advocate (not even close). But I am a huge get-as-much-sleep-as-I-possibly-can-even-if-that-means-sleeping-right-next-to-baby-for-months advocate. Hence the co-sleeping.

And another thing. By the time I get a basket of laundry folded and put away there are always 4 more waiting to be done. I have cleaned ONE, count em, ONE toilet ONE time since Lucy's birth and only because the stank was that bad. Resembling something close to one of those out door gas station bathrooms that the owners have clearly forgotten all about. There are still bags of baby crap from the hospital lying around. I've lost my temper approximately 1324 times since coming home from the hospital at my toddlers. Yes, lost my temper at my toddlers. A lot. I have cried probably the same amount.

Why the H am I telling you all this?

I've gotten a lot of sweet comments from lovely readers, some even indicating that I have it all together and I love the sweet comments- in fact, keep them coming, between those and the wine, I should be able to get through the next few months. But please know that I have taken nary a full length picture without wearing my trusty spanx. And the only reason I make it out of the house with all 3 girls to the store or where ever is because I rely heavily on social interaction to not really go crazy and if I stay in the house for too long I start to get anxious and weepy- a lovely result of the ever-fluctuating hormones.

Rapidly inhaling the second half of the creamer bottle

I realize I have basically been doing outfit posts or quick takes almost exclusively since the third babe came, and this is because of a few things a) I pretty much never am not holding a baby b) I don't want to just complain about how hard things are with 3 kids and c) my brain is on its lowest level of functioning, which inevitably results in the dumbest ideas ever for blog posts. I've bounced a couple off of Mike and gotten many a blank stare or just "no, that's not funny, don't do that".

I am giving myself a solid year to get things together, then I will be pounding out the old original, awesome funny material you're used to. I don't know whose blog I am talking about, I clearly don't read my own enough.

Alright, that's enough reality for today.

7 quick takes... Saturday?

After all the emails that have been coming in from readers (as if) wondering where I was yesterday for quick takes, I figured that I should post some Saturday quick takes-- for the fans. So here you go:

1) I didn't post yesterday because Mike's been getting up with the girls in the a.m. It just so happens that, while Lucy has a super sweet disposition, she is an absolutely horrendous sleeper. Not because she is awake at night. No, she does sleep: but ONLY on the condition that I sleep right next to her and listen to her grunt all. night. long.

2) What do you mean by "grunt", you asked? You didn't? Well I will tell you. She will fall asleep, sleep for 10-30 minutes peacefully and then make the loudest, most animal-like sounds I have ever heard until she passes some gas then she will sleep for another 30ish minute stint. You never knew it was possible for a child to make such noises in her sleep and stay asleep, but really she only stays asleep if I am right there. So.... I will stop.

3) So why did Mike getting up with the girls mean I didn't post my quick takes? Well, this morning I let him sleep and it is now 7:53 a.m. and I am already on #3. Also, I woke up late yesterday and got a message from a friend that she and others were meeting in 1 hour for a museum play date and I was not about it miss that. So I got all 4 of us ready and out the door in under an hour (no medals have been awarded. yet.) 

At the museum canoeing

 4) Then after another stellar nap time, we loaded up to head to the park because it was so nice out and I was not going to miss that either. 

on her second outing of the day.

5) How is this only 5?

6) Every time I try to lose weight, something stands in my way. After I had Bernadette it was the fact that I coped with post-pregnancy hormones and being stuck in the house all day with baking copious amounts of pumpkin rolls, cookies and pumpkin muffins. Then I ate them all. Now it is this stuff:

 Yes, it says what you think it says.

Every time I open it I have to resist the urge to spoon in right out of the container and eat it all. It takes a lot to spread on the not-nearly-as-awesome english muffin.

7) Bernadette has been spending more and more time having long conversations with Lucy, reading her book after book, and gifting her with every toy she can find. It's really sweet, except when she almost crushes her with all her body weight during a overly affectionate hug.

Here she is showing Lucy her newly painted toe nails:

Have you ever seen such an enthralled baby?

I hope you are all satisfied, I know I am.
I'm sure you've already been over to Jen's to see the others. Go again. 
Happy SATURDAY!

Monday Tally

Some numbers from our morning:

number of times I packed everyone up to go to the grocery store: 1
number of times I felt like I was going to cry as I tried to get us in the van: at least 7
number of times we went to the grocery store: 0
number on the clock when I was first awoken for the day by Naomi: 5 (with 2 zeros after it)
number of times I had to put her back in bed before all of us waking at 7: 5
number of sleep deprived meltdowns from said early rising toddler: no less than 8
number of babies Naomi just told me I should have, total: 60
number of cups of coffee had by me: 4 (before 11)
number of times mother has been totaly defeated by toddlers: 36
number of times I have stared at Lucy to make myself feel better: 36 (And counting)

Transition Shmansition

Have a less chaotic Monday than us!

Postpartum quick takes

Joining Mrs. Fulwiler and many others for some not-so-quick takes from this not-so-quick mind of mine. And too many pictures. Have fun!

1) After spending an absolutely fabulous week with my mother-in-law, Mike and I have been trying out having 3 kids on our own this week until my parents arrive tonight. Before I move on too fast here are some super cute photos from the MIL visit so that we don't forget just how wonderful it was:

Helping Bernadette not accidentally gouge one of Lucy's eyes out minutes after arriving home from the hospital.

Nana reading Charlotte's Web to Naomi (her mini-me), they got about half way through and of course I have not quite carried the torch as I might have promised I would #worstmotherever

Perfect.

It was so great to have her here and her help was invaluable. Love postpartum days.

2) I feel absolutely fantastic. I was telling Mike all of my favorite things about not being pregnant and explaining why the worst sleep deprivation with a nursing newborn is 100% better than the discomforts of pregnancy (especially my last few weeks of this pregnancy) so that he can remind me in a few weeks when I am dealing with week upon week of no sleep. He promised that he would.

3) I have decided to try to keep our days as normal as possible in the in between time before my parents' visit, including taking the girls to several play dates, making "normal" (if my normal you mean frozen) meals, and trying to keep the house not overwhelmingly disgusting. It is working, but it *may* be due to the fact that the youngest is 10 days old and still sleeps 92% of the day. Maybe. Or maybe I am awesome.

4) In order to fuel my "keeping things normal" fire, I have been drinking substantially more coffee, especially now that I like the taste of it. I splurged at the store today and picked up some Dunkin' Donuts Pumpkin Spice coffee, and just in case you were wondering if it is overkill to drink pumpkin spice coffee with pumpkin spice creamer, the answer is a resounding NOOOOOO. There can never be too much pumpkin. Or, I may have a problem.

5) I am starting to feel bad for Naomi and Bernadette because I feel sure that I did not enjoy their newborn-ness like I am enjoying Lucy's. I was a twitching ball of anxiety when Naomi was a newborn and on too many pain meds the first few weeks of Bernadette's life to even remember how it was. But I could seriously sit and stare at Lucy all day and I DO NOT WANT HER TO GET BIGGER. Ever.

6) I will use the last 2 takes to overload you with pictures of our farewell to nice weather last night. While Mike and I were dating we bought a kite on one of our dates and flew it together. We still have it and have taken the girls out several times to fly it. Last night's attempt was our biggest success I think, which was great because I'm pretty sure it was the last really nice day we are going to have for a loooooong time.

First here are the blasts from the past:

Me looking not-at-all awkward during our date many moons ago/And Mike during a successful fly last year with both girls

7) And last night's success with one extra child:

the assembly and most likely disproportionate excitement.

Trying to fly it...

Succeeding.

And some blurry proof that we were there

Have a fab friday!!

Lucy's Birth: The Whole Thing

In order to *fully* document the birth of Lucy, I must start on the day of my 36 week check-up (technically I was 36 weeks 5 days). Also, this may have to take place in installments--I hope it doesn't come to that--but I am going to try my darnedest to get this thing typed and just give it to you straight, so you're not left hanging. I hate cliff hangers. So it may need to be divided into chapters, but at least you will have it at your birth-story-loving finger tips.

Already one week old, dressed in naomi's baby doll dress, best ever

Chapter 1: Prodromal Labor is the Worst

I woke up that morning feeling, um, different. My typical waddle had gone from duck-like to very-very-pregnant-duck-about-ready-to-drop-a-dozen-eggs-any-day. I was feeling really yucky and my braxton hicks had kicked it up a notch. I was super glad I had an appointment that day where I knew that the Doc would be checking to see if I was dilated. I was guessing--based on how I was feeling--that I would be (at least a little), but I was also bracing myself for the reality that I may not be dilated at all and that all this "feeling different" stuff would end up being in my head. The doctor would also be doing an ultrasound that day to double check that the baby's head was down, since my last baby was a c-section due to her being very breech.

I hopped in the car sans kids (muchas gracias, Mike), excited to be out without them and excited to see little Lucy on the ultrasound. Cue the appointment: Doctor goes to check me first, then we'd do the ultrasound. Her eyes open widely and she exclaims with surprise that I am already a whopping 4 cm dilated and 70% effaced and there is no need to do an ultrasound since she can feel the head- it is right there. "4 flipping cm?!?!?! Can I just have her now??"--was the thought going through my head. I was 5 cm when I went in to give birth to Naomi. I was totally shocked and super excited, I figured the most I would have been was a 3, but FOUR?!?! This was monumental. Or so I thought.

I called Mike to share the news, then I called my doula to give her the update. I felt sure we would be having this baby by 37 weeks and that there was no way I would be going in for another doctor appointment. I was still contracting fairly regularly all day that day and feeling really gross. The next day would be Bernadette's birthday and I started getting really excited about the thought of them sharing a birthday- maybe they would! Or not.

The contractions continued, getting stronger and stronger, and woke me up around 11 the night after my appointment. I started timing them- 5 minutes apart, 1 minute each. While laying awake I timed them for about an hour, then got up to tell Mike that I thought it might be time to ask his sister and her husband to come over so that we could leave for the hospital. We called her, and I got up and started getting stuff ready to go, and just like that the contractions started spreading out and getting weaker. Great. Mike's sister and her husband got to our place around 12:30am and by then the contractions had pretty much stopped. BLURG! Since we thought that my labor might pick back up and that we might still be going to the hospital that night, we had them stay over. Long story short: no more strong labor, no trip to hospital, baby not born.

The entire next day as we celebrated Bernadette the contractions kept up, confusing the heck out of me, so I finally called the doctor who said it sounded like early labor but that they would need to pick up in intensity for me to go in to the hospital. So I did lots of squats, ran up and down the stairs as many times as I could, crawled around on the floor as much as possible, and rested a little. Nothing.

I will just say this: prodromal labor (<--read the link!) sucks. I remembered hearing about it and just hoped so hard that it would never happen to me. However, it only took a couple of these awful false alarms-- including our doula coming to our house and one hospital trip (I was told I was still just 4 cm and so was sent home)--to realize that this is exactly what were dealing with. Well, that and my doula flat out saying that is was prodromal labor during one of our false alarms.

last preggy pic taken @ 38 weeks

Chapter 2: Getting Things Going

So what does one do when one has a baby not quite in the right position and is having painful, time-able contractions every day, all day? Well I hung upside down off the couch, crawled around as much as I possibly could, did lots of lunges, squats, running up and down stairs, swimming, walked 3 miles with the girls in the double stroller, bounced on the edge of the bed a lot, ate spicy foods and pineapple, drank some caster oil, and prayed a thousand Memorares that my water would just break so that then at least they'd have to keep me at the hospital and we'd know the baby was actually coming. Eventually it all worked.

Last Sunday-- one week ago yesterday-- things got real. I did not let myself think they were real;  I was NOT going to be able to withstand the embarrassment of going to the hospital and getting sent home again.

As we were putting the girls to bed, my contractions finally started feeling serious. I had been timing them all day (what else was new?) but now they were finally to the point where I couldn't say nighttime prayers with Mike and the girls. I tried to go to sleep right after the girls went down, but every 5 minutes one would come and wake me up. I would breath through it and try again to sleep. This kept up until around 3 a.m. Now some were coming 3 minutes apart, but I was still sure that the second we loaded up to go to the hospital they would stop. But then one came that really hurt. So I rolled out of bed onto the floor to breathe through it and POP went my water. YAY!!!!!! I was absolutely thrilled. Thrilled and terrified.

Chapter 3: At the Hospital

When Naomi was born my water had broken, and it had immediately made my contractions get crazy, so I knew this was going to greatly intensify things. And it did. We called Mike's sister and her husband and this time we had something real to tell her. We got in the car and left for the hospital.

As expected, the good folks at the hospital didn't initially believe that my water had broken (this had happened with Naomi too), but their doubts were soon put to rest and we got settle in to have this baby. Well, sort of.

I was on the fence about whether I wanted to try to do the natural tub-birth thing that I had done with Naomi or just get an epidural. I was leaning entirely toward the epidural route- especially after weeks of early labor and then a whole night of no sleep and labor-- but this hospital only has one tub and you have to get into that room if you want to use it. So, we went first to the tub room to play it safe. They checked me to see how far I was. STILL ONLY 4 CM?!?! What the H??!? My contractions were already feeling so strong, and I decided that I couldn't face the prospect of laboring indefinitely.  So I promptly left the tub room, opting for the epidural route instead.

At this point it was about 4:30am and we were told it would be at least an hour before we would be getting the epidural. I was disappointed about this, but it was ok because I could still talk in between contractions and stay fairly relaxed during them. However, the anesthesiologist could not have come at a better time because after that hour was up this was NOT the case anymore. These contractions were getting mighty crazy, and it was quite the feat to stay still and relaxed while the nice man stuck my back with that needle. But it was oh so worth it.

The epidural was in and doing its thing by 6 a.m. and I was able to sleep-- SLEEP!-- while in active, crazy labor! I was in heaven. I was only worried that the epidural would slow things down and that they'd have to give me pitocin (we took a Bradley class during my first pregnancy and I was adequately schooled on all the many dangers and evils of the epidural). Anyways, around 7:20am Mike decided he should probably run home to give his sister the girls' car seats. I figured this was fine since I was sure we had a couple more hours of labor left and we only live 10 minutes from the hospital. I gave him the OK and he left.

Chapter 4: The Birth

At 7:30am, an hour and a half after I got the epidural, the doctor came in to check me again. "Oh my, you're fully dilated and ready to push," she exclaimed. WHAT THE H AGAIN?!?!?!?! I explained that my husband had just left and that I would realy really like it if he could be there for the birth. She calmly responded that, since I wasn't really feeling any of the contractions or the need to push, we could just wait for Mike to return. Besides, she said, she wanted to shower beforehand anyways.

I called Mike immediately to give him the deats, and luckily he was already almost back to the hospital. He made it with a few minutes to spare, so we sat together and let it sink in that we'd be seeing our new daughter within the next 10 minutes- as if it is possible for something that to actually sink in.

About 5 minutes before little Lucy made her grand entrance into the world

The doctor eventually walked in looking refreshed and ready to catch a baby. I am still a little confused and shocked that I could just sit there with a baby practically hanging out (sorry, that was a gross word-picture), but seriously. I got all ready to do a "practice push," but it only took the doctor one look to see I would not be needing any practice- the baby was about to come out. So I pushed once, I pushed twice, and I pushed a nice big third time, and out she came! On October 15, 2012, at 8:10 in the morning, 38 weeks 4 days -- and with 2 full weeks of early labor-- little Lucy Josephine was ready to come out.

Praise. The. Lord.

And our lives will never be the same.

please keep the focus on the sweet daddy staring at baby and not sleep-deprived mother's face

Friday to Friday update, quick style

Last Friday feels like it was a month ago, so to reassure myself-and the world-that time has not shifted from it's traditional seconds, minutes, hours, days method of moving, I'll just go over our week with some takes:

1) I toyed with and executed the idea of heading to campus to watch the ND marching band's march out- it was awesome.

Whether Bernadette thought so or not

Just keeping things exciting.

2) Saturday my fab sis-in-law watched the girls for me to go have my feet violently messaged and toenails painted...

Leaving me confused as to what I think of purplish-black polish (trashy or classy?)

3) Then we traveled to our favorite burger place and I ate about 1/2 pound of jalapenos on my burger to try to kick labor into real gear.

4) The next day I went into labor and Monday had a baby. No biggy.

More on that later.

5) Then of course several days were spent eating delectable hospital foods, laying around and enjoying staring at the cutest babe ever. And perhaps inhaling a bag of peanut m&ms and lime-a-ritas from my hospital perch.

care of the best friend ever, obviously.

6) Yesterday I turned 39 weeks UN-pregnant, oh glorious day.

7) And now I am sitting watching Lucy's 2 big sisters play whilst my saintly-best-mother-in-law-ever holds the tiny one and cooks dinner for us. I am not sure if it gets any better than this.

So it really has just been one week since last Friday, and this proves it. Mission accomplished.
For more, go to Jen. Happy Friday!!

Lucy Josephine Hahn

I just ate 2 sugar cookies next to a child who didn't ask me for a bite. New favorite? We'll see...

Hat off/Hat on

Birth story to come. Thank you all so much for the encouragement and prayers, we are so so so happy she is here.

Triumphant, quick return

1) Well, I took a week off of blogging. I'd like to say that I "unplugged," like so many of you good folks do, to recenter myself. However, that would be a lie. I was still reading all of your blogs, checking facebook 145,678 times a day, and keeping constant tabs on my email in case any one at all from the outside world contacted me.

2) No, the reason for my absence is this:

My children went crazy. I believe the term Mike used for them all week was "batcrap"-- replace the italicized word with the good old fashion expletive, it is much funnier.

Just last Friday we were at a friend's house for dinner and I was going on about how great the girls have been, playing so well together and how they have really turned a corner, blahblahblah. BAM.

They stopped. Stopped liking each other. Stopped liking not to scream. Stopped liking to wear pants. Stopped liking to listen to me or Mike, ever. Stopped all things good. They just stopped. It is possible that the friends placed a inadvertent curse upon us as we were sitting there bragging- I probably would have done that, too.

And I am not going to say that things have gotten or will ever get better. You will never hear me say that out loud.

3) I honestly blame the hormones- I think the girls can smell the crazy. Things are feeling a little bit too much like this:


I am now a full 38 weeks pregnant and have approached a place of despair and sad acceptance that I will really and truly be pregnant forever. While I was complaining to Mike yesterday about how awful it is, he said "Well, I wouldn't discount the possibility that God has has it out for you" (he always knows how to put my overly dramatic whining into perspective).

4)  Luckily I had some diversion this week in the form of Grace visiting the Bend for a few days and paying us a lovely visit. I contemplated putting Sebastian in my pocket (or a large duffel bag) and bribing Julia with copious fruit snacks to please stay with me, then stuffing Naomi and Bernadette into Grace's van. But my girls didn't have pants on and were running too fast around the house for me to catch them, so I decided I let her keep her kids. We didn't get any pics of the fun times, probably better for the overly-pregnant/crazy members of this household.

5) In other good news, I finally found some pumpkin spice creamer at the store yesterday. The taste of my coffee in the morning has universally been making me sick- no matter how "good" the coffee or creamer is. However, this morning, once I stirred in the pumpkin-y goodness, the clouds parted and I actually enjoyed something, I mean, my coffee.

and the world is now right

6) I am going to do a quick, shameless plug my for sister's etsy shop with this take. She makes fantastic, adorable cards for holidays, birth announcements or any occasion. Her Christmas cards are especially cute, check her out:

Click it here for more info

7) I think we may attempt a trip to Notre Dame this afternoon to get the full band experience. I am hoping it will kick me into labor- I hope that about everything. Although it may just terrify the child and make her want to stay in forever. We'll see.

Have a fab weekend and click over to Jen for more!

Nailed it

Since being bitten by the nesting bug, I have all but given up all other forms of domestic recreation-- other than cleaning-- particularly in the form of making new good meals/baking tasty desserts/dressing myself in decent attire (Naomi looked at me today and said "mommy, are you all dressed in your rags?"- aka maternity sweat pants).

I haven't wanted to put forth too much effort, particularly in the kitchen because I don't want it to get dirty. Therefore, I just try not to make any messes with, you know, good cooking or baking. Luckily I have a husband who is fine with eating spaghetti on Monday, leftover spaghetti on Tuesday and Wednesday.... burritos on Thursday and leftover burritos for the rest of the week. That being said, I decided to go crazy tonight since it is my favorite Saint and my eldest daughter's name Saints' feast day and make something that we don't eat 3+ times a week every week AND that tastes good! PLUS a shnazzy dessert to go with it. I have to say that life does not seem so hard and all together difficult when you are eating something that you actually enjoy. I am being hard on myself, my burritos are really good...

I went real big tonight and made what I have discovered to be quite possibly the very best chicken I have ever tasted. The thing is, it is just the recipe on the back of the Bisquick box. (**note, I am not being paid by Bisquick to tell you about this, however if you know anyone who works for Bisquick, please tell them I would be more than happy to advertise for them in exchange for free goods).

I will just go ahead and share the recipe in case you happen to have the generic store brand baking mix or only half a bag sitting in the pantry because you threw the box away to save space, I would not want those of you to miss out on this goodness:

3 boneless skinless chicken breast halves
2/3 cup Bisquick baking mix
1/2 cup grated parmesan cheese
1/2 teaspoon garlic salt
1/2 teaspoon paprika
1 egg, slightly beaten
3 tablespoons butter or 3 tablespoons margarine, melted

Throw all the dry ingredients into a bag and mix around.
Here's the best part: all you have to do is toss the chicken in the egg mixture, put in the the bag with the dry stuff and go a little nuts coating in and then DUMP in onto a sprayed pan. Drizzle with butter. And bake. So easy and sooooooooooogood. 

I topped tonight's feast off with a special feast day apple pie complete with homemade crust. HOMEMADE CRUST. Sorry, I didn't know if you heard that. 

I didn't have shortening so I found this recipe for an all-butter crust. Now I am just sitting here wondering why the H anyone would ever use anything else but butter?? Is there an answer to that? This was seriously the best pie crust I have ever tasted. Maybe I just haven't eaten anything good in a while.

I just feel awesome. I am off to eat some pie. 

Adios from Bored Eater and Crazy Eyes McGee. 

Better Late Quick Takes

I was on track to not linking up with my fellow quick-takers this Friday, but I just like Jen too much, so here are some very late, relatively quick takes:

1) I know no one cares as much as I do that I am getting close to having this baby, and since I just can't quite come up with anything as interesting than baby talk to talk about in the old blog, I've just come to a blogging halt. I will try to keep this baby-talk free, but I cannot make any promises.

2) I kind of feel like this baby is going to fall out. Literally, when I am walking, or if I sneeze or cough or anything, it just feels like she is going to fall right out. You just got TMIed.
Ok that's all. I am done, no more baby talk. Or at least I will not type the word "baby" anymore.

3) I have been on a serious rampage with nesting. It is kind of like the movie 28 days later after the people get infected and they just go crazy trying to eat other people. Except I am just trying to clean everything. Mike called me a "hurricane of organization" tonight. I took it as the best compliment ever.

That's me in the background on fire. I don't want to eat him, just put some stain stick on those scrubs!

4) I am super excited to join Cari and many others tomorrow for the Virtual 5k. I am hoping it will induce something of which I will not speak. I am sure it won't, but I can dream.

5) Speaking of trying to induce things of which I will not speak. I decided to take it upon myself today to load a twin sized bed and box spring on to the top of our van to take to Goodwill- I am sure it made for terrific afternoon entertainment for the neighbors. Mike was going to do it tomorrow, but I went all zombi-killer-nester on him and decided it HAD to be done this afternoon so the soon-to-be nursery could be freed of the monstrosity cluttering it. It is now free and I will sleep tonight. Not longer than 2 consecutive hours at a time. But still, I will sleep.

6) Linking to Cari twice in one quick takes. Sorry, Cari, I am just creepy. But I am super excited to do another round of her Snapshots this Sunday. Be sure to check in out on Monday.

7) I cannot believe I got from 3-7 without using the B-Word. I am going to go reward myself with the 3 remaining EL Fudge cookies in the cupboard and then hit the sack. Here's to the latest (and perhaps lamest) quick takes I have ever done!! 

And a totally unrelated picture because I hate picture-less posts.

Gestation Station

I used to think that "nesting" did not exist, or that if it did, it was not a phenomenon that ever came close to me. I think I was just lazy. I am still lazy, but I cannot fight the urge anymore. So I guess I've changed my mind.

The great thing about it is that there is always something else to do. Every little stupid thing that I always said didn't matter to me to do around the house matters now and I must do it, or at least I know it is there to do in the next few weeks. Magic erasers are the best ever.  Organizing is like crack for the great with child.

Nesting never ceases to let me down. I think this will only last until the baby gets here and then I will start to see all my hard work fall apart before my no-longer-nesting sleep deprived eyes.

So that is my excuse for not blogging all week, that and trying to be a great good decent mother to the girls and feeling all emotional that it isn't going to just be the three of us home all day anymore.

On a good, related note, I asked Bernadette today if she was ready now for baby Lucy to come out-- her previous response had always been "no"-- and she finally replied with an excited "yes".

So with that, here are some pumpkin pictures.

Oh Naomi.

I have even fulfilled my pumpkin carving duties in the spirit of nesting.

A very large woman rambles

I have entered the stage in pregnancy where I have become the really annoying television stereotype of all things third trimester. I do not recall ever being this annoying before, but I am sure I just blocked it out and had no method of cathartic e-venting to log the annoyance. I bet one day I will find a hidden pregnancy journal belonging to Mike where he writes things like "she cried again in the middle of the grocery store when Celine Dion's 'I'm your lady' came on the radio..." or "it's only 9 a.m. and she is already drinking a hard cider..." But seriously. I know that things won't get any easier when this baby comes, but if there is even a slight improvement on my personality or any improvement in my ability to MOVE, or if shirts would just start to cover my belly... where was I going with that? I just need to not be pregnant anymore.

I have decided to stop letting the girls watch movies unless they earn it with "good behavior stickers" which basically means they never watch movies. Which means I am going crazy and not doing the things that keep me sane anymore, like showering, blogging, not being climbed on, cooking without holding 30 pounds of clingy toddler, etc. but it is worth it since they are clearly becoming better, clearer brained, little people.

Wait that was a lie- in fact, I have never seen them be so ornery in my life as this morning while I was trying to do the huge clothing overhaul switching from spring and summer to fall and winter and shifting sizes and washing and folding and storing and stashing sickening amounts of clothing.

But at least I don't feel so guilty for plopping them in front of the TV, if only I could muster some guilt for being crazy. If only I could just realize that it would probably be preferable for the poor children to have a nice mother and watch some shows than to have to deal with the ogre of a mother I am becoming.

But for now I am sticking to my guns on the new rule.

**Mid-day update: I stuck to my guns until aprox. 2:45 p.m., what can I say? I'm a strong woman.