Happiness Is . . .

. . . hanging up from a wonderful phone conversation with a good friend, feeling so encouraged, and then realizing that according to your phone you just spent 198 minutes chatting without a single kid interruption (although neither of us would have minded an interruption from "Prince Stubborn"!).

**Baby update**
As of Friday, baby is in "frank breach" position (butt down, head and feet up), which really should be called the "amazing baby taco" position. How is that comfortable for him I wonder? Then I see him grab his little toedies with his fingers, pulling them closer to his little mouth, and I have the epiphany that he is never going to move to head down-at least not while he has things to keep him occupied. Harumph.

Heavy Sigh

A conversation from this morning:

Princess #2: Mama, I'm so tired of calling baby brother "Izuzu F150". I just want to call him by his real name, and see him.

Queen: Me too, baby girl, me too.

Happiness Is . . .

. . . going to the dry cleaners to pick up some items and have the gal (who served you when you dropped stuff off the previous week), say, "I had no idea you were pregnant! You were just in here and I didn't even notice. So, you've got a few months left to go, huh?"

I told her Lord-willing it was any day now. And honestly, I could have just kissed her incredulous face!

Some Circular Thought

Frustration=a full-on breech positioned baby=contractions 24/7 with no visible progress=no immediate labor and delivery=cranky, tired mama=cranky, (mama wishes they were tired) girls=tired Nanny (thanks mom!) and husband (thanks honey!)=frustrated castle dwellers!

All I know with every fiber of my being, is that the One who has known this baby's birth date from the beginning of time is definitely in control, as much as I wish it was me. HE has made it abundantly clear that this is not about what the Queen deems best, but what HE KNOWS is best for me and this little one HE has given to me.

And all I can say is, this baby better awfully darn cute!

For Auntie 'Chelle

Today I had a wonderful baby shower. Wonderful that I got to spend time with friends and feel (and truth be told, feed-off) their excitement over this new one! Wonderful that this little guy will be the best dressed, diapered, lotioned, you name it baby in the world. Thanks gals, your kindness and friendship overwhelm me!!!

Anyway, one of baby's gifts was a little soft football. The king was explaining to the older two princess' how you hold it and where to put your fingers, etc. Then they tossed it around a bit. Enter Princess #3. . .

"What is that?" she says. Once explained wants to know, "Why?" Once explained, walks away without a backwards glance.

At least there is one toy that she will let be all his, seeing how she immediately claimed his big dump truck as Nanny walked in with it, proclaiming, "He already has one (a tiny little one, totally different from the new one I might add), he doesn't need two."

I don't think she'd get the irony of her statement, even if I counted out her multitude of barbies!

Happiness Is . . .

. . . getting to sleep in to 7:10 am!!! and then having your wake-up call be a nice, quiet, "Mama, I'm going downstairs to play Barbies, everyone else is still sleeping. Can I eat an apple while I wait for you to come down?"

Tattle Tales

Just as I say "amen" to our dinner prayer. This conversation starts:

Princess #3: Mama, #2 was peeking while you prayed.

Princess #2: Well, Great Grandpa Cliff peeks while we pray all the time.

It should be noted that G.G. is 95 and has earned exemption from closing his eyes-he might fall asleep at the table!

Baby Update

Well, instead of breech this week, he decided to move back to a transverse position, just to mix things up a bit. Despite the multitude of contractions over the past week, no forward progress, which I was reassured is not uncommon for your second and beyond baby. I remember being frustrated with that fact with #3, oh well. Thankfully he has moved down, so my ribs are getting a much needed respite.

After a consultation with another doctor who has had success with turning babies, he would like to wait until we're past 37 weeks before heroics. However after reading about turning babies today, I am fervently praying that this baby decides to try some gymnastics in the coming week, preferably a headstand!! Most likely if I go into labor at this point, the delivery will end up as a c-section.

So right now, I am praying for patience and a position change for Mr. Stubborn. These weeks are the longest as some of you can relate too. You walk that fine line between being desperate to have the baby right! now! and knowing that the longer they bake, the better.

If you think of us, say a prayer would you? I'm thinking it's going to take a miracle at this point to get this boy to cooperate.

Thanks Friends!!

Today has been a day of blessing. Already. It's only shortly after 11 am here, but wow! First of all, when the king called to say that he wouldn't be able to home to watch the girls for my doctor's appointment, my first reaction was stark fear. Three kids, tiny waiting room, even tinier exam room, possible trek to have another u/s, almost dinner time, etc. Then I called my lifeline and she said she could watch them, no problem. Even though after listening to the events of her day, I'm questioning her sanity, she agreed and her generosity totally blessed me!

Then as I am cajoling the hyped up princess' to complete school, another girlfriend stopped by (I knew she was going to, but totally forgot, so it was like bonus surprise!) to bring me two batches of taco meat and two batches of spaghetti sauce to throw in my freezer for quick meals. How sweet is that?? What an encouragement.

I hope each of you has girlfriends in your life. The good ones. The ones who are willing to watch your kids at a moments notice or bring you yummy dinners just because or take time for a phone call or email or the ones who tell you every time you see them that you look like a million bucks or the ones that listen to your vents judgement free. I am so fortunate to have go-to girlfriends that I know love me bumps (a little pregnancy humor), prickles and all, and that I deeply love in return.

Yep, You're Right

It's official, I've reached the point in pregnancy where it is easier to agree with whatever the kind stranger has to say about your baby, size, etc.

For instance, when the kind lady at Orange Julius assumes you must be due in a matter of hours, you just say, "yep, you're right."

Or the cashier at the local store (whom you've never EVER seen before pregnant or otherwise), tells you that your baby has dropped, you just say, "yep, you're right."

And finally, when the nice older man in the parking lot lets you know that the baby looks like it's about to drop out, you just say, "yep, you're right."

It's so much easier to be agreeable, don't you agree?

You know your correct response, right???

Happiness Is . . .

. . . noting that some of your perishables have expiration dates past your due date!!

Then It Begins

Princess #3 has discovered that her height and baby brother's nest are incompatible. After trying to sneak past Mama to get to the sink, her head collides with her brother. Again. Without even a thought, she reaches up and gives him a (gentle) push and says, "You're in my way, baby brother!"

By the way, he heard and kicked back. Sigh. Sibling love. Already.

Happiness Is . . .

. . . being married to a guy who will brave Costco on a Saturday, with your list and coupons, doesn't forget a thing, and even doubles back to find some items!! All so you can be home with your feet up.

Sister Love

I am the oldest of four girls. I love my sisters. I know my sisters. My sister next in line and I used to fight over the sheets/blankets when we had to share a bed. Eventually we'd fall asleep under bedding that you could bounce a quarter on, since each of us had pulled the bedding and tucked it under ourselves as tight as possible, to prevent the other from hogging! My second sister had the reputation for being a restless sleeper and hence a kicker. And my youngest sister was accused of sharpening her toenails with a nail file so that she wouldn't have to share a bed.

Last night, I got a charge out of the fact that my girls know their sisters. We were getting everything ready for a sleepover. It was Princess #1's turn to hostess, so we were getting a couple of extra beds set up for her sisters in her room. As the air mattress was being blown up, Princess #1 says, "Can Princess #3 please sleep on the air mattress, instead of Princess #2? I was just remembering hearing #2 move around so much in the night that I couldn't sleep at the KOA's this summer."

There the knowing begins. I love it!

You're Eight+ Months Pregnant When. . .

. . . you realize that your belly and bumps have merged into one entity.

. . . you go bump holder shopping and select one off the rack that you always dreamed of buying off of in junior high.

. . . every time you drop something, you think of a response that should not be heard by royal ears (and if none are around to hear, may just utter aloud).

. . . you don't realize you are huffing and puffing anymore, til someone points it out.

. . . you plan your shopping around public restroom availability.

. . . you have to stand sideways at the counter in order to comfortably reach what you're trying to do.

. . . you have to wear an apron at all times in the kitchen, since you can't see what you may have spilled, splattered, or otherwise on your shirt.

. . . lace up shoes are no longer an option, unless you can talk your 6 year old into practicing her bow-tying.

. . . buckle up shoes are no longer an option, unless you can talk your 3 year old into practicing her buckling.

. . . you lack the energy to knit at your normally scheduled knitting time.

. . . you can't figure out why that guy/gal/child is staring so intently at your belly, until you realize that they can see the baby squirming around under your shirt.

. . . the borrowed maternity top that you swore you'd never fit into, sadly fits.

Baby Update

So I'm not sure what to think. I had yet another check-up yesterday. We're to the point where you see more of your doc than you do anyone else it seems. Anyway, we had a brief moment of excitement when she thought that baby had finally decided to move head down. However, she thought maybe we should go take a quick peek via ultrasound just to be sure, since we're getting down to the fish or cut bait stage. And wouldn't you know it, this little guy is sitting on his butt, spine along my right side, legs facing to my left side, and that sweet darling head wedged up into (I'm pretty sure!) my diaphragm, "cushioned" by my lower right ribs. It was so fun to see him squirming around, even catching him blink, that I ignored my inability to take a full breath without pain for a minute.

Funny thing is, I'm not concerned. At this point his birth, no matter the exit route, is all I care about. And he's coming out, one way or the other, of that I am sure. So we'll just see what he decides to do. And like the king says, why wouldn't it be a c-section, we've covered all the other bases with the girls. Too true.

Overheard after dinner . . .

. . . "Daddy, how many inches do I weigh?", as Princess #3 hands him the tape measure.

Baby *BOY* Sweaters!!

I'm out of boy yarn. For now. I was just sure that I would run out of time to get all I had yarn for knitted before his arrival, but now I'm sitting pretty. I'm even making Princess #3's Duck Soup that she's been waiting so patiently for! I just need to finish up the last few inches of his blanket, so that will be next. Anyway, here are some photos of his new duds. It's been so fun to feel him "talking" to me as I've knit these up!

A blue Duck Soup (size 3 months)

A brown, nubby pullover sweater (size 12 months)

Get Ziggy (size 18 months)