Heartburn

There is a lot of stuff I could stand to get off of my chest, but I can't decide if this is really the best forum for that. Also, think I need to get some space from all of my feelings so that when I do decide what to write, it's not all just emotional mumbo jumbo. Because that pretty much sums me up right now, in this 35th week of pregnancy.

I am Emotional Mumbo Jumbo.

So, instead, I will immortalize some of Ava's words that made me giggle.


She is so super excited about her aunt's wedding coming up next week. And she has always been very intrigued with the idea of getting married herself (mostly to Dan). So she asked me,

"Mom, will you get me a diamond ring someday?"


And I answered her, "Well, maybe someday. Or maybe the man who wants to marry you will get you a diamond ring."

She replied, "Well, I don't want to get married. Then I would get a baby in my tummy and my neck would burn. And I don't want my neck to burn."


What a wonderful advertisement for marriage and pregnancy I have been! Maybe I should complain less and eat Tums more.

Because I couldn't have said it better

myself.

Though I would be remiss if I didn't mention My Honey Dan who has really made this possible. Thanks, Dan!

I can't wait! But I must admit that I already miss the kids!

I just got back from a doctor's appointment where I got a little peeksie at the baby nugget. He's still a boy, and is measuring right on schedule. In fact, the most interesting part to me, was that by the estimation of the ultrasound, he weighs right now, exactly what Ava weighed when we brought her home from the hospital-5lbs 2 oz.

Hopefully, he'll take these next few weeks to bulk up a bit (but not too much!), and come out a nice 7lbs or so.

Brain Dump

1. Sophie has settled back to her usual reclusive, boring, fat cat status, leaving us a little less motivated to send her straight to the electric chair. But we still don't really like her. And surprisingly, no one was jumping out of their skin to make her their own. If anyone reading this reconsiders, you know how to find me.

2. We got hit by the stomach bug this weekend. After watching it spread all over town for the past few weeks, Ava bore the brunt of it at our house. She seems to be recovering nicely, though she does make one very pathetic patient.

3. Ava's keen sympathies for all who suffer means that I never, ever have any dish towels. Even after I've done the laundry. Maybe especially after I've just done the laundry. After washing hands, and turning around to not find the towels draped over the oven as hoped, I have to do a little searching. See Exhibit A & B.

Exhibit A

She has a few of these set-ups strewn through the house at all times. Somebody always seems to "have the chills and a bad feeber" or "got bit by ants" or "had to have pokeys (shots)".

Exhibit B

Poor George here seems to have one of the most elaborate nursing stations we've seen for a while, including some fake food, real marshmallows, and a drawing to cheer him up.

4. Failing to properly mention Luke's Hippo and Blankey on this blog would be a big mistake. They are practically members of the family and we could not get along without them.



Ba-po, as he is lovingly referred to by Luke has turned out to be "the lovey" . And now I am wishing that I had bought two. Too bad when I bought him for Christmas 2 years ago, I could not predict his future status.

5. I'm going to LA in 3 days. Not Los Angeles, the much more exciting destination of Louisiana! I can't wait to see my long lost friend Val! But is it completely selfish of me to not be 100% satisfied because I know the trip will be over in a few days and I'll come home and she'll stay there and we'll be right back where we started? I really, really miss my friend. Her being gone has made even more of an impact on me than I had anticipated. But that is a sad, self-dissecting post for another day.

6. As I asked Ava in the tub this morning if she wanted some shampoo, she held out her hand and said, "Yes. Is it poison?"

7. We are all eagerly anticipating our whirlwind trip to Utah in a couple of weeks for Dan's sister's wedding. Ava gets to wear what she calls a "wedding dress" and she is over the moon about it. I will be 36 weeks then, and we are saying lots of prayers that no baby business comes up (or out) until we are back on Texas soil. And my momma, the industrial woman she is, is coming with us to take care of our kids while we're at the wedding functions. Thank you , Momma!

8. BYU's loss Saturday, has driven Dan to do something totally out of character. He came in to announce the loss ( I had already given up and was watching something else) and also announced that he was buying a book. The two thoughts seemed so totally unrelated, but apparently he had the idea that a good book would take his mind off of things. So he went to Walmart and bought a book. He is not much of a reader, but has been duly distracted by his new find. I hope he keeps it up. Speaking of which it's probably about time I started a new book. It's been a while.

9. I made Ava another dress, this one from a woman's dress shirt. She liked it for a few days. And while she doesn't jump at the chance to pose for pictures, she apparently doesn't like to share the spotlight with her little brother either.

Sophie's Saturday Surprise...

Steals her Sanity

or

Signals Sticky Situation

or

Steals her Sanity and Signals Sticky Situation

The cat we wish was ours

It started the same as any other Saturday morning, with Dan and Luke taking out the trash while I laid in my bed with Ava as she watched TV, desperately hoping for a few more minutes of sleep. In a moment I heard the door open and Dan yelled, "Ava, hurry quick! There is a kitten in our front yard!"

Ava sat bolt upright in the bed, looked at me with her eyes open wide and very serious. "Mom, put this on paused." I quickly obeyed and she was out the door with a blink.

A kitten in her front yard might be the closest thing to a dream come true for her. She talks about the kitten she will get when Sophie dies every single day. And now I bet she thought things couldn't get any better.

I followed behind her, opening up the door to the garage just in time to catch this little cat in my hands before she skittered into the house.


We sat in the driveway and the kids were in heaven. The kitty was very skinny, but very nice, and more like a teenager than a baby. I never looked to be sure but she seemed like a girl. She sat while the kids drenched her with pets and pats. And didn't go very far as they followed (or in Luke's case, chased) her around our yard. The kids were beside themselves. For heaven sakes she was like a real cat! Not some mean old fatty who lays under my bed all day, shedding and plotting the demise of my kids.

And as I sat in the driveway, looking like a female buddha, and the kids and cat were in and out of the garage, I heard Ava yell, "The kitty's in the house!"


I jumped up as fast as I was able in time to see the cat streaking down the main hallway with Luke close behind. And at that moment, I could see what was about to happen play out in my mind, yet I was completely unable to do a thing about it.

Kitty went into the family room, past the couch, turned the corner where I knew she was heading towards my room. And once she got there, in order to avoid Luke she was going to go straight under the bed. And that is exactly what she did.

She ran straight into Sophie's lair, I'm sure giving them both the shock of their lives.

Have you ever heard a real cat fight? A real one? The sounds become almost unrecognizable as cats. They make ugly, ugly noises. I can tell you there was some major hissing, banging, snarling, and gnashing of teeth before that little Kitty catapulted out from under the bed and shot across the house. I picked her up in the office and her little heart felt like it was going to beat right out of her chest.

Phew! That was exciting! We all (except Sophie of course) went back outside and finally, Dan sent us off for donuts so he could get started on the lawn, realizing that the cat and the kids would never voluntarily be parted from each other.

When we returned Dan was happy to report that he had taken the cat down to the neighborhood park, where he'd left her with a pile of cat food. I was a bit disappointed because I wanted to keep an eye on her, try to find her home, or take her to a no kill shelter or something. And now I was sure she'd be long gone.

We went on with the day. And periodically Sophie made an appearance. Only she wasn't her usual sulky self. She had Crazy Eye. Her ears were pinned back on her head and she was mad. She attacked Dan's feet twice. She wouldn't let the kids into the office.

Thinking Sophie's freak out is funny, when there is a door between them

Thank goodness she's declawed. And she would prowl around us hissing and looking like she was possessed. And we learned quickly that walking by and especially lingering near the bed was a death wish. And she wasn't kidding.

Weirdly enough, she would appear other times, rubbing up against our legs, sleeping lazily in the middle of the floor.

We were sure she just needed a little time to process her trauma and move on. Over these two days it appears that she had generally made peace with Dan and my legs standing at the bed, but she has a zero tolerance policy for the kids, apparently.

And this morning she has made me think twice about her longevity in this household.

Luke climbed off of my bed and was sitting on the floor. He was blabbering to me in a language I was desperately trying to decipher, when all the sudden those ugly, ugly noises as well as two whacking cat arms came out from under the bed and started after my little man! I was at such an awkward angle, leaning over with a huge belly that I couldn't pick Luke up immediately. And seriously, I was scared of Sophie. And she was relentless. Even after she saw me and heard me she was not letting up on him. And yes, she is declawed but Luke was rightfully terrified. I finally got myself turned around and shoved a pillow in her face, stuffing her back under the bed. And pulling Luke on to my lap, where he cried hysterically for a few minutes.

Ugh! That cat!

Now what? I really don't want to keep her. But I just don't know what to do with her. I'm not sure she'd ever get over the shock of a new home. I am sure she would not sell herself well through a cage at a shelter. She could continue living under the bed, angry and crazy, but I hate that the kids are scared.

And next time Ava asks me if there's a monster under her bed, I can say, "no, only under mine."

Anyone want a cat?

Anyone?

Game Day

If you are not aware of Dan's obsession with BYU football, you can enlighten yourself by reading this old post.

This weekend we made the jaunt up to Dallas for the BYU vs. Oklahoma game at the brand new Dallas Cowboys arena. He has planned to attend this game since it was announced. We got a ticket for my dad for his birthday as well.


And in the van, as my body ached and the kids screamed, I told Dan that we would not be making this trip this particular weekend, except for the absolute necessity of him attending this game. And he was not disapointed.

The day of the game found him full of nervous excitement. I was happy for him but really didn't want to see him disappointed and deal with his sure to be sour mood for the next week, maybe two. And I must give him the credit. He is the only BYU fan that I talked to that not just hoped for a BYU victory but predicted it, expected it, and was sure of it. It shouldn't have been a surprise because he admittedly will never predict them to lose.

He had looked online many times to see the virtual view from the nosebleeds where they'd be sitting. They were in a great position for the 60 yard HD screen suspended from the ceiling.

He had a vivid dream the night before about getting to their seats. He dreamt that as they climbed higher and higher towards their seats, it started getting colder and colder. Soon it was snowing and finally they had to use ice picks to try to claw their way up.

He said it was a very long walk up but the ice picks were not necessary, thank goodness.

My mom and I were on kid duty at home. We caught the first few minutes of the game before we headed to the nearby Gaylord Texan resort to walk around. As we pulled into the parking garage Dan called me with the half time score report. Only down by three. He was really happy. And he was voiceless.

The game was on big screens at the resort so we got a 3rd quarter update. After strolling and looking, we headed home. As I pulled up to the house, my phone rang. I answered and immediately had to pull the phone away from my ear because of the loudness. I said, "Hello?"

And all I heard was, "WE! WOOOOOONNNNNNNNN! WE! WONNNNNNNNN! WE! WONNNNNNNNNN!" I have never in my life heard him react with such intensity. What I wouldn't give to have that call recorded. I don't know how he got that all out given that he literally had no voice.


Of course he was so excited and I couldn't wait to hear all about it when they got home. He gave us the run down, explained how it was the best sporting event of his life (which for him is a really big deal), etc.

But my absolute favorite part was my Dad's account of Dan. I have known since I met him that he is really fun to watch games with. His usual easy-going, quiet demeanor changes and he gets so excitable and crazy.

But my Dad's account had me wondering just who had taken over my husband's body. Apparently Dan's seat was on the aisle right next to the stairs. And apparently, Dan spent much of his time in the aisle screaming at fellow fans to get them excited, raising his arms to get them yelling, starting chants, and high fiving strangers all around.


That is so not Dan.

After all was said and done, Dan finally went to bed at 3:45 am. And the next day as the game was on constant reply and he watched our kids playing he concluded that our children are cuter, I am prettier, and everything is just plain better when the Cougars win.

He said he wished I could have been at the game. I wish I could have too, but honestly, I think the best part would have been watching him.

My eggo is preggo

The young women I work with at church love to quote movie lines from Juno at me. Especially that one.

I went to Girl's Camp a few weeks ago. I love going to Girl's Camp. Being pregnant wasn't going to stop me, but somehow, like a teenagers game of "telephone" my months of gestation got blown out of proportion with every retelling, until finally the morning of the day I planned to drive up I received a call from the Stake Young Women's president. She let me know that they were not feeling very good about having an 8+ months pregnant lady at camp. And even more importantly, they did not want to have any babies at camp. I calmly explained that while I was 6+ months pregnant, I was not 8 and, if they could believe it, I did not want to have a baby at camp even more than they did and further more if I thought that was even a possibility I wouldn't be coming.

I also explained that they really didn't need to worry about me. I didn't plan to be a burden or need any attention because of my situation. Then she explained that I would have to sleep in the infirmary. I was willing, mostly due to the fact it was air conditioned, to oblige just because I thought if I didn't then they wouldn't let me come.

Camp was really fun, though I sure missed out on my favorite part which is canoeing with the girls. Don't you know pregnant people can't canoe?

Anyways, I really was glad to be able to go. Things went well and there was hardly any drama. Unfortunately I do not have one single picture to document the fun.

I do have documentation of my pregnancy, though the last way I would describe it would be fun. I finally got a picture of myself to compare to the first 2 times.

Here I am, this past weekend at about 30 weeks (7.5 months)



And here I am at about 6 months pregnant with Luke:



And here I am at 7 months with Ava:



This was what my mom referred to as the python stage, meaning I looked like a snake that had just eaten it's dinner. And I guess this series of photos just supports the theory that you get bigger quicker with each subsequent baby.

I am not ignorant of the fact that growing a baby is truly a miracle, however pregnancy and me do not get along very well. I am not one who "glows". In fact, when I am pregnant I wake up every morning feeling dumber, meaner, uglier, and fatter than I did the day before. Really I feel like the worst version of myself. Maybe it's because all of my desirable resources are shunted to making the baby.

Dan said a few weeks ago, "You being pregnant brings out the worst in us." And I concede. I don't enjoy labor but I would do that 5 times over if I could skip the pregnancy part.

This time around, I am really craving ice. And anything sweet and not good for me.

This baby moves around alot. And I think it's to remind me that he's actually in there. Because while the exhaustion I feel should be a constant reminder, it's sad how how little time is dedicated to thinking of him and his arrival. It's still not real that he's coming. Maybe, because when I am in the throes of chaos and freak outs with Ava and Luke, and the fear of adding another human to the mix starts to creep into my mind, I quickly kick it out with my big boot of denial, to stop myself from collapsing and/or running out the front door.

So that's where I'm at right now.

We are really, really at a standstill with names. Luke was either going to be Luke or Max (Maxwell, after my dad). Obviously we went with Luke. Now this little guy only has one name on his list-Max, which we both still like. Dan isn't liking any of my suggestions, claiming they are too feminine. So Max is what we are tenatively planning. I just like to have some choices lined up going to the hospital.

And I don't know how effective this will be, because it's not likely anyone will suggest a name they really love if they are still in the baby making stage, cause they won't want me to steal it, but I would love to hear any name suggestions, from those of you who are willing to share. And also, any good middle name for Maxwell.

Ava leaned over to Dan during Sacrament last Sunday and said, "Dad, I can't wait for Grandpa Max to come out of Mommy's tummy!"

And of course he said with a chuckle, "Me, too!"

I made it!

As I called Dan to give my report of this morning's drop-off he lovingly reminded me, that "you made it!"

"Made what?"

"Made it through the summer!"

He was right. I hadn't exactly equated the first day of preschool with the last day of summer, but I guess I can. And his statement did remind me of the dread that filled me as had I looked on to this summer from the other end.

We made it.


Monday was Ava's "Meet the Teacher". She has been less than excited for school this year. Which is pretty sad considering that this year is what I would deem necessary as opposed to attending last year, which was just for fun. Most of her hesitation was about having a new classroom and mostly a new teacher. And I must admit that I shared those worries.

In a serendipitous move, my parents made a spur of the moment decision to drive down for a visit on Saturday. And the icing on the cake was that they stayed through Monday and were able to keep Luke during Meet your Teacher. That was a good thing because Ava was pretty nervous and Luke would have hated it.

I stopped her just short of the door to take her picture knowing that the next day Luke would make that task difficult.


I snapped one and then started to adjust my settings and as I did, I could see her little eyes getting bigger and bigger out of the corner of my own. I quickly snapped another, because I could see what was happening and then the tears began to flow.


She quietly asked me again, as big crocodile tears rolled down her cheeks, "Why do I have to have a new class? Are you sure my teacher is nice?"

I hugged her up and reminded her how she was now four and assured her her teacher would be nice. All preschool teachers are nice, right?

Wrong!


Just kidding, she was really nice. Ava got herself together and we went inside for a tour of the room. And to meet Ms. Kim who really does seem very nice.


Last night as she was going to bed she was really really anxious for school the next morning. After a prayer together she went to bed and awoke with not a trace of worry.

She picked out her outfit and got to wear her brand new (and very first pair of) tennis shoes. I took her picture on the porch right before we left.




Luke screamed his loudest as we dropped her off, just as I anticipated ( I think because he's scared he's going to get left too!), but Ava was a champ. She put away her folder, hung up her bag, gave me a hug and kiss, and was on her way.

Her reports of the day are minimal, but positive. She remained happy and a little hyper when she got home and then ornery for her nap, but when she got up to apologized "for talking ugly" to me, on her own accord.


This might be a good year yet!