Why God Made Moms

My friend Faetra sent this to me and I was laughing so hard I was crying. Again, I blame the hormones. Enjoy...

Answers given by 2nd grade school children to the following questions:

Why did God make mothers?
1. She's the only one who knows where the scotch tape is.
2. Mostly to clean the house.
3. To help us out of there when we were getting born.
4. So I would have one.

How did God make mothers?
1. He used dirt, just like for the rest of us.
2. Magic plus super powers and a lot of stirring.
3. God made my Mom just the same like he made me. He just used bigger parts.

What ingredients are mothers made of ?
1. God makes mothers out of clouds and angel hair and everything nice in the world and one dab of mean.
2. They get their start from bones. Then they mostly use string and scotch tape, I think.
3. My mom is sort of soft like marshmallows. So I guess God used marshmallows.

Why did God give you your mother and not some other mom?
1. We're related.
2. God knew she likes me a lot more than other people's moms like me.
3. God thought I looked a lot like my mom.

What kind of little girl was your mom?
1. My Mom has always been my mom and none of that other stuff.
2. I don't know because I wasn't there, but my guess she would be pretty bossy.
3. They say she used to be nice.

What did mom need to know about dad before she married him?
1. His last name.
2. She had to know his background. Like is he a crook? Does he get drunk on beer?
3. Does he make at least $800 a year? Did he say NO to drugs and YES to chores?

Why did your mom marry your dad?
1. My dad makes the best spaghetti in the world. And my Mom eats a lot.
2. She got too old to do anything else with him, so she married him.
3. My grandma says that Mom didn't have her thinking cap on.

Who's the boss at your house?
1. Mom doesn't want to be boss, but she has to because dad's such a goof ball.
2. Mom. You can tell by room inspection. She sees the stuff under the bed.
3. I guess Mom is, but only because she has a lot more to do than dad.

What's the difference between moms & dads?
1. Moms work at work and work at home and dads just go to work at work.
2. Moms know how to talk to teachers without scaring them.
3. Dads are taller & stronger, but moms have all the real power 'cause that's who you got to ask if you want to sleep over at your friend's.
4. Moms have magic, they make you feel better without medicine.

What does your mom do in her spare time?
1. Mothers don't do spare time.
2. To hear her tell it, she pays bills all day long.
3. She moves everything in the house around and buys flowers.

What would it take to make your mom perfect?
1. On the inside she's already perfect. Outside, I think some kind of plastic surgery.
2. I like her hugs so much I'd like 3 more every day and she'd be perfect.
3. Diet. You know, her hair. I'd diet, maybe blue or pink.

If you could change one thing about your mom, what would it be?
1. She has this weird thing about me keeping my room clean. I'd get rid of that.
2. I'd make my mom smarter. Then she would know it was my sister who did it and not me.
3. I would like for her to get rid of those invisible eyes on the back of her head.

Just Say No to Drugs

I want my thoughts on labor to be realistic. I have a very detailed vision of how I would like Bean's delivery to be and I worry that I will be disappointed if it doesn't go as planned. I also understand that it can all change depending on how it is going. I don't want to have a cesarean but will if it is what is best for Bean. Obviously, this is my first baby and my expectations are formed from watching too much "Baby Story" on TLC, what I have read, and other women's stories.

I asked my Dr if I was being realistic in thinking that I would be able to do this natural. She said that it depends on my pain threshold and that everyone is different. I don't want drugs. I don't want an episiotomy. I want my goo and blood covered tot to be placed on my chest directly after he emerges. I want to be able to walk to the bathroom, by myself, ten minutes later. Terry thinks I am crazy. I know, considering modern medicine and available pain control options, that natural childbirth is increasingly becoming unnatural. But did you know that epidurals can lead to higher cesarean rates and the use of forceps or a vacuum extractor? Or that babies can sleep much more after birth? Yeah, neither did I. Since I found out I was pregnant I have never put anything harmful in my body, no Advil, no caffeine, no alcohol(I am very anal about it despite that my Dr says a little bit is OK). Why would I want to introduce drugs at birth? Besides, I have always believed that childbirth is natural. My body was built to make babies. There are women in 3rd world countries that still lay down in fields to give birth. Maybe the pain is what we make it to be. If I go in believing that I can do it naturally, maybe I will be able to. If I go in fearing the pain, maybe an epidural would be the way to go.

That being said, I have no idea what is going to happen or how I am going to handle all of this. I am not going to make any promises that after I give natural a try I won't jump at the painless epidural. Although, having a needle placed in my spine, while having contractions, seems far less appealing to me then pushing him out the old fashioned way. I don't know. I guess I will have to wait and see. In the meantime, I am working on my breathing, relaxation, and meditation techniques. Including a prenatal massage for me and a pressure point information session for Lizzy next Thursday courtesy of my Auntie De!!! I am so ready to be pampered!!

Bump Watch

This is the bare belly series of bump watch. Try not to be too offended by the hugeness and the flipped out button. I really still can't believe my belly is that big!! I (or bean rather) look huge from that angle!! Bean is suppose to be putting on an ounce of weight a day so despite feeling like I couldn't possibly get any bigger, I am. The good news is that I am officially "full term" at the end of this week. Full term means that I can have this baby any day and he should be perfectly well developed and cooked. Basically, we have started the waiting game. It could be tomorrow or it could be another 4 weeks. Its all up to little Bean.

He was really trying to bust out in that first one, hence my ridiculous face. I never understood why pregnant ladies needed to rub their belly's so often. I totally understand now. I find myself rubbing him constantly. Sometimes I am trying to put him back in cause he is stretching out so much it feels like I am going to rip apart. Or he is just under my ribs and I am trying to get him to move. Or I walk around holding him up because he is heavy on my back. Or my belly looks like alien and is jumping from side to side and I am trying to hide what he's doing. I was in the meeting for work the other day and the person sitting next to me noticed my belly going crazy. It was kind of embarrassing but honestly what can I do?!

To Do or Not To Do

One of my co-workers believes that Terry and I should get married for the benefits, ie. health insurance, taxes, military, etc. She offered her services and help to arrange a civil union at the hospital. Now, as romantic as it sounds to tie the knot in a hospital bed for moneys sake, it is not on my agenda (nor on Terrys). Marriage is a sacred union that shouldn't be entered into lightly, in my opinion. I don't want to gloss over it and I don't want to rush. I know that she was trying to be helpful but I couldn't help but be a little disturbed by the entire situation.

Pregnancy allows everybody and anybody to comment on my personal life. Where as once my life was private, I now find myself open to all opinions regardless if I want them or not. I know that these comments aren't meant to be hurtful but most of the time I really don't want to know how much pain you were in during labor. Or how daycare ruins a child. Or why I should get married as soon as possible to anyone willing. Or why formula feeding makes children obese. I could go on forever, you don't even know. A pregnant belly puts a sign on my back that says "Please talk to me. I would love for you to comment on my personal life."

I have dreams of marriage, some day. I want the white dress, tons of family, and big ceremony. I want the husband that loves and respects me for the choices I have made in my life. I want the romance. I want to be swept off my feet and the stability of having a husband that cares for me. For some reason, most people expect us to get married because I got pregnant. It is an easy assumption. I guess we got the order of things a little backward and society wants us to correct ourselves. However, for me, these two major life events don't come hand in hand but I still want both. I don't feel that it is unrealistic. I have always wanted to get married. It might be a little different then what I dreamt of as a little girl but my marriage will be the perfect union for me and my son.

I guess what is bothering me the most is the notion that I am tainted, tarnished, and used goods. Because I will have a child that I will be less desirable. I will become a package deal. That I should get married to whoever comes through my door. I don't feel the necessity to sacrifice my dreams of marriage because I am a 'fallen' woman. Romance is not lost on me because I will have a child. I understand that an in-tact family is what society deems best for my child. But society can be wrong because there is no lack of people in this child's life. Bean will have two supportive parents, four grandparents, four great grandparents, a million aunts and uncles, and tons of friends. With all those relatives around I doubt he will notice the missing ring on our fingers. When I do get married Bean will eventually come to understand that I was in love with someone, who is in love with me as him. I would hate for him to see me in an unhappy or forced marriage knowing the reason we got married was him. Hopefully, Bean learning that I married for love will mean more than benefits and a hospital bed.

Maybe down the road, Terry and I will get married. I am not completely closed off to the idea. But definitely not now. Our relationship is based on friendship and would need to progress to that level. Bean is a big change in both of our lives. Let me adjust to that change before piling on more. If we do get married, it will be because it was the best choice, at the right time, for all three of us. Until then, families come in all shapes and sizes. Ours is no different.

This Weeks Nerves

I know I keep on posting these nervous Nancy rants but I can't seem to help myself. This blog has evolved into a place where I can vent about my worries and not feel so guilty that I am burdening people. I apologize in advance for this anxiety rant. If Terry was around maybe I would feel obligated to rant to him but since my time is limited to the phone I would rather not bother him with my anxiety. Besides, I think he has enough of his own.

Lizzy and I finished our childbirth classes on December 19th. The nurses told us then that I should pack my bag for the hospital. I refuse. I simply refuse. Every week I get email updates on what to expect and they keep on reminding me to pack my bag. Nope. I am sorry. I just can't. Not yet. Its too soon. I am still living out of duffel bags at Michaels. If I were to pack a bag where would I keep it exactly, at home, at Michaels, in my car? I feel like it is becoming some kind of inner struggle. That if I pack my bag I will have to come to terms with having to actually go to the hospital and all the it entails. I worked up the courage yesterday to print off a list of things to pack. I thought it was a step in the right direction. I know I am going to have to face the reality eventually but I can totally put it off for the next few weeks. Cross my legs.

I have been having a lot of trouble sleeping. It is a combination of not being able to get comfortable and then once awake my mind starts reeling. I also can't make it through the night without going to the bathroom at least once. Bean is leaning directly onto my bladder pretty much all the time now. My bladder must be about the size of a pea, I kid you not. Anyway, I tend to have very unrealistic worries when I am up late at night. Like maybe he has 12 arms, which clearly he doesn't because I have seen his sonograms. Or what happens if I don't know I am in labor, which I will know at some point I am positive. A big one lately has been falling. I keep worrying that I am going to fall on my belly and that he will stop moving. Stillborn, just writing the word makes me shiver. God forbid. I pray all the time that he will be safe. That I can keep him safe for the next few weeks. He is still really active. I find myself breathing easier when he is moving just because I know he is OK. Even if his moving is really annoying. I relish it.

Breast feeding is another whole ball of worries. Like will I actually be able to do this? Will I inexplicably find my modesty and be unable to whip them out in public? (Doubtful) It has been a difficult transition in my mind. I mean, honestly, what have my boobs been useful for before now? Suddenly they have been catapulted into importance and will be used to sustain another person. Crazy!!

I know that most of the time when I am nervous about something it never ends up to be as traumatic as I anticipated it to be. The monster under my bed is far more terrifying in my head then if I met him face to face. However, that usually doesn't stop me for worrying. I am assuming that my worrying is not going to stop when he is born either. This child is going to bring another lifetime of worrying. I guess that is what they call motherhood.

P.S

As I stated last post, I have been dreaming of laundry. I decided to make my dreams become a reality, to feel as though I was accomplishing something, while the baby suite is getting finished. So, I wobbled my way up in the attic to retrieve all of the baby bedding, clothing, and such. I piled it all into bags and laundry baskets, loaded my car, and was off to Mikes to do laundry until my hearts content. I envisioned my ipod blaring away, a hot cup of tea, maybe a book, and doing load after load until I was satisfied. As ashamed as I am to admit this, I was really excited!!! That is exactly what I wanted to do on my Thursday night.

Then I ran into some trouble. I put my first load of bedding in and am off reading in the living room. Michael's house is pretty small and I can't help but notice that the machine is unusually loud. Curious, I gather the strength to heave myself off the couch. Sweet Jesus, the machine overflowth!!! There is water all over the kitchen floor, pooling in the grout, soaking into the carpet. I shut the machine off and thankfully the water stops. God forbid there was a burst pipe or something. As quickly as my elephant body will allow I run upstairs to gather towels. I am on my hands and knees mopping up water, determined to handle this like a big girl and refusing to call my parents. Well, I am admittedly a wuss. I broke down and called when I couldn't reach under the table and despite being shut off it still looked like the carpet was getting wet.

The phone call went something like this:
Dad: Hello
Me: Dad?! I am having a bit of a crisis.
Dad: Whats the matter honey?
Me: I was doing laundry and now there is water everywhere.
Dad: We will be right there. I'll bring a mop.
Click.

I was mildly concerned at the curt phone call but was relieved that things were going to be handled by someone other than myself. In hindsight, I probably should have given them some more information. My parents were at Michael's in about three seconds. Upon receiving the phone call from their 8 months pregnant daughter claiming that she was in a bit of a crisis and there was water everywhere they wasted no time. Dad arrived breathless, mop in hand, asking if everything was OK with Mom trailing right behind him. I explained what happened (I probably overloaded the machine, genius) and they explained that they thought I was in labor. Ha ha, no. Everyone always thinks I am in labor. I sigh a little to loud and people ask if I am OK. I promise I will let everyone know if I am in labor. Needless to say, I have stalled on the laundry front. Maybe next week I will regain my strength.

Mary Poppins Eat Your Heart Out

I am starting to get the urge to nest. This is quite common in the later months of pregnancy. I am sure my mother is thrilled that I might get up off my fat and lazy ass to do something. Maybe I will start cleaning the house and kicking some construction worker butt to get the baby suite done. Lets finish painting, have the carpet laid, and move the furniture in. I want everything to be put away all nice and neat. I want to spend ridiculous amounts of money on sheets, bath mats, candles and curtains.

However, my weirdest urge so far has been laundry. I really, really, really want to rip all the tags off of the clothes, blankets, sheets, and towels we got at the shower. I want to wash them. Do one hundred loads of laundry. I HATE laundry with a passion, always have. But now I find myself fascinating over it, ohh how the mighty have fallen. I want to fold all the cuteness and put it all away in drawers and on hangers in the closet. I want to line up the shoes, unpackage hats, sew strings connecting mittens, and roll his biker baby socks. Speaking of mittens I got the cutest ones the other day at Target. They have airplanes on them and they rattle. Surely they need a sting attached so we don't lose them. I simply cannot hold in my joy and anticipation of laundry!!!

Things I Learned in 2007

I learned how to trust my instincts.
How to read a credit report.
My family is one of the most important things in my life.
Home will always be home no matter how far I go.
I am capable of leaving everything behind and starting fresh.
I am also capable of coming back and remembering that its ok.

I prefer to be around people then to be alone.
I need my space every once and a while.
Being part of a couple makes some people boring.
I am worth fighting for.
Tattoo’s on your wrist don’t hurt.
Being too drunk is not attractive and drinking in general is not all that important.

I would move to Charleston, SC in a heartbeat.
I find big city living unappealing but still miss living there all the time.
Driving for 13 hours sucks.
Everything is better on the beach.
I have had an amazing life.
A 24 year old can raise 5 wonderfully well adjusted children.

God loves me and the church is not that scary.
I hate telling people bad news.
I am getting better on confronting people and my fears.
I love roofing and witnessing progress.
I am capable of blind love for another.
I love sailing but I could never live on a boat.

I don’t like grits no matter how many times I try them.
Breakfast for dinner will always be my favorite meal.
My time in SC was irreplaceable.
Always wear underwear.
I self medicate to hide my insecurities.
I am much stronger than I think I am.

My family's compassion and ability to love amazes me everyday.
Bourbon = hangover.
There are far worse places to be than Long Island.
My choices define my character and vice versa.
I am ready for the unknown.
I am capable of much more than I ever dreamed possible.

Bump Watch

I haven't posted pictures in a while so I figured it was about time. There is a lot of changing going on and I am literally getting bigger by the second. Beware of the bare belly picture, it is not for the faint of heart. My mom says I look like Olive Oil from Popeye more than ever now. I am just starting my 35 week, that means 5 weeks to go!!! Holy shit!!!

Its officially gone people!!! My belly button has popped inside out. Now, I finally understand how it feels to have an outie. I read in a book the other day that you can use a bandaid or a piece of tape to cover your belly button being seen through your clothes. How weird is that? Yes, it sticks out but I always assumed that it would happen eventually.

Top 2007 Baby Names

The most common baby names of 2007 are in and three of my top names are on that list. I don't quite know how I feel about it. I want my child to have a name that no one else in his class has or at least a name that there are only 2 or 3 of. I have always loved my name but hated that I had to be classified by my last name because there were so many Kates. So, it is a little unnerving that 3 of my top choices are on the 10 top baby names. Maybe I have to do some rethinking. Unfortunately, I have been looking at other names but none have struck me. Well, I still have some time. Any new thoughts out there?

Boy Names....................................................Girl Names

1. Aiden.......................................................... Sophia

2. Ethan........................................................... Isabella

3. Jacob..............................................................Emma

4. Jayden...........................................................Madison

5. Caleb...............................................................Ava

6. Noah.............................................................Addison

7. Jackson............................................................Hailey

8. Jack.............................................................Emily

9. Logan...........................................................Kaitlyn

10. Matthew..........................................................Olivia

Past Tense

I started writing a lot when I was in South Carolina, trying to document my time and experiences down there. Anyway, I recently found something that I wrote on October 19, 2006. I always had in my mind that I have traveled so far. But maybe I haven't traveled as far as I think I have...

I have been thinking a lot about babies. I would never be thinking about babies if I was in NYC, NEVER!!! Life in New York is to exciting for kids. There is too much to do in NY to even consider kids. And the subway with strollers, forget it. However, down here it would be possible. The cost of living is lower, people are happier, you have neighbors that care about you, there are cars and kids are accepted in fancy restaurants. Everyone has kids here and now I have babies on the brain. Stupid, I know, but I can't seem to shake it.

Everyday I meet people with babies. A girl that just applied, she is 24, my age, and her birthday is in March. She has 5 kids. Yes that is right, her kids are 7, 5, 4, 2, and 8 ½ months. Half of me wants to dive into a descriptive lecture about birth control and the other half wants to pat her on the back. At least they are all from the same father. The kicker is that she only makes about $19,000 a year. That is insanity and yet she is well adjusted, loves her kids, feeds them, clothes them, and takes them to the movies. I have met them all and they are good kids, well adjusted, respectful. They say ‘sir’ and ‘ma’am’. They call me ‘ma’am’ although I don’t think I am old enough to qualify. Maybe 5 is a little excessive but if she can deal with 5, I can certainly handle one. I am a responsible person. I would always put my child first and me second. With my family to baby-sit when needed, I could be a parent. My list goes on and on…

My girl Bridget has a 14 and 16 year old. The 16 year old just had a baby about a year ago. She is off in New York living with the daddy and Bridget is a grandma at 35. Another homeowner that is making record progress through the program moved to SC from New York with her 2 year old, a suitcase, and a welfare check. She didn’t know how to drive, had no car, no family, nothing but the clothes on her back and her baby. She rented a car and learned to drive from a crippled man. She has been in SC since 1999 and now at 31 she has a job, a family, a life, and is getting a house. I hear some pretty messed up stories. I could write a book about the courageous and malicious people that I encounter everyday. Their stories are heartbreaking and incredible. It makes me think what is really important to me, in my life. What do I want during my life?

Homeowners ask me all the time if I have children. When I tell them no they ask me why not and scrunch up their faces in disbelief. Why not? Because I was raised to value education and children would come later and preferable with a husband. I don’t want to be a parent later on in life like I once thought. I don’t want to be tired. I don’t want to miss out on the good parts of my child’s life because I was 40 and tired. Maybe our parents and grandparents got it right. Maybe we should have kids younger so we can enjoy them. I want to remember every part and I want to be young enough to still remember being a teenager. I want my parents to be able to enjoy grandchildren. My grandparents are still young, they could be grandparents again. I want my family to be young enough to enjoy having children around again. Maybe I am being selfish, I don’t know.

I know that most of my friends from New York probably think I am going crazy and you might be right. When I was in NY I didn’t even know if I wanted children. Maybe I thought I might have one at 35-40 but now my thinking has gone all wacky. It is funny what latitude can do to you. I am not going to start pin holing condoms or stop my birth control. I am not that crazy. But think about it, if you were to die tomorrow what would be your biggest regret be? Mine, that I never had a child. It wouldn’t be about money, success, or fame, not for me. It’s all about the babies.

Caution - Men at Work

I have talked of the affectionately coined "baby suite" that is getting added to our house but I haven't really gone into much detail. When this whole pregnancy thing happened, one of the big questions was "Where were we going to live?" Luckily, my parents (among other very generous offers) came to my rescue and decided to add on a room off the back of our house. I secretly think that they have been wanting to do this for a while but lacked motivation. Well, a pregnant daughter sure can motivate!!!

So far everything has been progressing great, cross your fingers. Adding anything on to an already old house can be challenging and we did not come out unscathed. One major issue that arose was the roof line. To correct it and make it as ascetically pleasing as possible, they had to add on to Rebecca's room on the second floor as well. Believe me, Rebecca is not complaining. It looks amazing, now that it is done, but was traumatizing especially for my father. But all in all, the addition is progressing amazingly thanks to a very task orientated contractor. I would recommend this contractor to anyone. He has been brilliant. When do you ever hear that?! The Bean and I are getting a rather large room with cathedral ceilings and a beautifully renovated bathroom, Rebecca is getting an extra 5 feet in her room and a water view, and my parents are getting the new deck of their dreams. We are all quite happy!

All this construction means that we now have three open door ways that lead into the new portion of the house. I would like to remind you all of how cold it has been lately. Yes, our house is a tundra. Forget putting on your coat to go outside, put it on to come in. They insulated and started the siding this week so it might get a little warmer for the holidays. Forget decorating for Christmas because all of the furniture is moved around and everything gets dusty in about 10 seconds. Suddenly, I am reminded why no body in their right minds do major construction in the middle of winter. But we are on a dead line and February 10th is fast approaching. I am hoping it will be finished by mid-January to give me enough time to move all of our furniture in and decorate. Cross your fingers and send your prayers!!!

Push Harder!!!!

We finished childbirth classes...already. We had to go three Wednesday nights in December. We didn't practice Lamaze or anything. It was more like giving you a lay of the land. Letting us understand what to expect, a tour of the hospital, pain options, a few breathing techniques, breastfeeding, the first few days of life, and that kind of thing. Lizzy and my Mom are my birth coaches since Terry might not make it here in time.

On the tour of the hospital, we were asked to wait outside the labor and delivery rooms while gazing at the sweet newborns. Almost every time the doors opened there were screams of "Push harder!!! 1, 2, 3...". I had no idea that this was an interactive tour. They didn't let us go in and watch the birth but talk about in your face experiences. The best part was the father, waiting on our side of the delivery rooms, white as a sheet. He explained that he was "taking turns" with his mother-in-law coaching his wife through labor. The rooms were pretty small so I can understand where his claustrophobia came from. (They told us at the next class that the baby was born before we left the hospital.) There was another woman in labor, in her hospital gown, pacing the hallway. She looked more annoyed that we were there than in any pain. We decided that she was in the very early stages.

I am not going to lie, it was kinda of terrifying. I know that understanding the labor process will make going through it easier because I will know what to expect. But sometimes I think that maybe not knowing anything would be better. Ignorance is bliss, right?! Lizzy seemed absolutely fine with all of this. She was calm, attentive, and taking everything very seriously. It made me feel like a big wuss that I wasn't handling it well. I am surprised I didn't puke on the floor. Having Lizzy there made me feel like I was being silly worrying about it because she wasn't worried about it. She will be a great coach because regardless of what is going on in her mind, she's got a great poker face.

My Anxiety Runneth Over

I know it is normal to have anxiety but lately there has been a lot of it. I chalk most of it up to first time parent jitters but I distinctly feel that I am over thinking. Honestly, I don't even know if its anxiety or a nervous anticipation. Wait, is that the same thing?

Recently, most of my anxiety lies with the first few days at home. Will I know how to soothe, comfort, and calm a crying baby? Or will I panic, throw my hands up, run out of the room, and hand him to my mom. I'd like to think that I wouldn't do that but I don't know. Will I know how to hold him? Will I understand why he is crying? How to change a diaper? Will I know when he is sick or cold or uncomfortable? How do I place him in his crib to avoid all those weird crib phobias? Will I know how to feed him or how much I am feeding him? I could hyperventilate every day if I thought about it too much. I try not to let myself think about it but usually, in the middle of the night when I'm alone, I can't help it.

I wonder if after 9 months of waiting, preparing, visualizing, and loving this unborn child that I will feel relief to have him in this world. Relief to have my body back or will I panic that he is no longer a part of me? That he is susceptible to the outside world and its occasional ugliness. Or will I get that "What comes next?" attitude. The "OK, now what" syndrome. Or will I be so totally engrossed that my absent mindedness will continue and my only thoughts still focused on him.

Most of all, I want to see him. I want to see who he looks like and takes after. If he does indeed have my nose and Terry's mouth. I want to cradle him in my arms. I want to smell that baby goodness of powder and innocence. To touch his soft delicate skin. Feel his warmth on my chest and a sweaty cheek on my neck. I want to rub the top of his head and play with peach fuzz. I want to see Terry hold him and watch his anxiety melt at the recognition of his son. I want to count his fingers and kiss the bottom of his feet. I am so anxious to see him I could burst.

I think nervous anticipation is the right term. I am nervous about all the things that I don't have experience with. Nervous about the details. But the anticipation of seeing our little man far out weighs my nervousness. I can't believe I have 54 more days of waiting, not that I am counting or anything....

The Wintry Mix

I moved into my cousin Michael's house. With our house under construction, only two livable bedrooms, a plethora of baby supplies, and a thick layer of dust we decided that it was for the best if I slept elsewhere for a while. Michael has an extra bedroom and I was more than willing to allow myself some privacy for a short time.

It snowed, rained, froze, and hailed last night. I was glad that I didn't have to drive far. Pregnant ladies and ice don't really mix. I stopped at the store on my way to Mikes and got brownies and dinner. If I had it my way they would have been eaten in that order. He has this great cottage that overlooks the church. It reminds me of the English countryside that I loved to watch roll by on the bus when I lived there. His cottage even reminds me of my house in Leeds, except cleaner, warmer, and much more inviting. There are little nooks and crannies, closets misshapen in any spare space, hardwood floors, and deep recessed windows to accommodate the think stone walls.

I made our brownies (caramel, walnut brownies) while Michael cooked our dinner of ravioli and garlic bread. I swear I wanted to shove my entire face in that bowl of brownie mix and lap it up. The urge was so strong to lick the bowl, to use my finger as a spatula and get every last inch of batter. Forget baking, lets just eat it raw. I held back because of the raw egg, salmonella, and Mr. Bean. Another thing that will get me though labor. I started making a mental list of things I am unable to eat or drink so that I can binge when he's finally here. There will be feta cheese, wine, caffeinated mocha lattes, brownie batter, and a baby boy in my future. That's motivation for me.

Using all my will power, I waited until the brownies were cooked and had about 5, with a glass of milk to make them nutritious. We sat by the crackling fire and watched a movie while the ice and snow accumulated outside. It was picture perfect. I never thought that I would ever be so happy. Right now, in this moment, despite all the anxiety and upheaval, I am content in my life and the direction it is taking. I find myself smiling at nothing while driving down the road. I am just so happy. Its a good feeling.