Lists

Things To Do While Phillip Is Gone

• Move the boxed up Christmas stuff from Emma's room to the downstairs closet
• Move the grocery bags of booze (from the CHRISTMAS PARTY GAH) from the blue room to the other downstairs closet (or develop hard liquor habit?)
• Box up the 3 month clothes and get out the 6 month clothes (PORKY)
• Laundry
• Choose/buy fabric for the curtain headboard
• Work on Blathering website
• Pack (Pack WHAT I have no idea since NOTHING FITS)

TV Shows I Just Started Watching

• Boardwalk Empire
• Homeland

Books I Am Bringing [Via Kindle] To Palm Springs

• Is Everyone Hanging Out Without Me? by Mindy Kaling
• Harry Truman's Excellent Adventure by Matthew Algeo
• Polly's Story (Swallowcliffe Hall) by Jennie Walters (apparently these are books told from the Downton Abbey-ish servants' perspectives)

Book I Recommended To A Guy Friend Who Usually Only Likes Sci-Fi

• The Wednesday Wars. And he keeps texting me to tell me how AWESOME IT IS. I AM SO PROUD OF ME! (And him. But mostly me.)

Styles Of Clothes In The Stores That I Tried On But Cannot Wear On Account Of Being Twenty Pounds Too Large And/Or Thirty-Two Years Old

• pretty much every belted or drawstringed dress. Why do these want to cinch me on the WIDEST parts?
• the very loose but rather-reminiscent-of-the-80s tops that require some sort of tank top underneath
• that very cute but super unflattering sundress at Target
• the tank tops with the racer backs. Um.
• that too-short skirt at Target
• the belted flutter-sleeve top that made me look 6 months pregnant

Reasons I Have Yelled [Real Yelling] At My Kids Today

• they won't stop "singing" but it isn't REAL singing it's horrendous nonstop NOISE
• Jack was HOWLING upstairs while I was trying to sweep up the entry way (the pine needles! are killing me!) and when I raced up there he said, "You said you were going to get me a snack."
• two (TWO) pants-wetting incidents
• they got out every single puzzle in the house and threw the pieces all over the living room and then complained when I insisted they pick it all up before dinner
• they would rather run around naked and flash their baby sister than put their pajamas on FTLOG PUT YOUR PAJAMAS ON

Things I Would Like To Be Eating/Imbibing Right Now But Won't Because I Am Trying To Lose Weight Except That's Going Nowhere Fast So Why NOT Eat All The Things

• chocolate cake
• Nutella
• wine
• Nutella
• kettle corn
• Graeter's black raspberry chip ice cream
• a freshly baked loaf of bread (yes, all of it)
• more Nutella (for the bread) (obvs)
• an Orange Dream Machine

One Thing I Will Share With You Then We Will Pretend I Didn't Say It

• Emma has been sleeping from 9 or 10pm to 3 or 4am. Since Saturday night. Which is... A HECKUVA LOT BETTER THAN WAKING UP EVERY HOUR DONCHA THINK??? Also. I put her down awake tonight. And I think she fell asleep. COLLECTIVE GASP.
• Thoughts: Do you think I still have the same baby? Did someone come in here and trade her out? Do we have some sort of OPPOSITE four month sleep regression going on? Is she just super advanced and got through her regression EARLY? 

Fa la la la la

Phillip leaves tomorrow morning for a business trip, his first since Emma was born. I'm feeling pretty nervous about it. I'm also telling myself that anticipating the trip is always the worst part of the trip. Still, I haven't had to solo parent with a new baby before and I'm anxious. Blargh. 

I spent the whole day putting my house back together after the Christmas party. AS PER USUAL, we have no pictures. Well, we have pictures of PEOPLE, but we have no pictures of what things LOOKED LIKE, which is annoying for both you and my mother. I THINK things looked nice? I spent a whole lot more time decorating this year, mainly because the FPC and her husband made all the food. ALL. THE. FOOD. Which leads me to today's Blogging Topic: Party Debrief. 

Things I Will Most Definitely Do Again:

1. Get someone else to make the food. Not sure my sister will want to do this again (even though I was an EXCELLENT client and did not hassle her one little bit I DIDN'T) and if she doesn't I will most certainly be looking into catering. I lost count of the times I said to an empty kitchen or an empty living room or the shower "I AM SO HAPPY I AM NOT MAKING THE FOOD!" It's terrible, because the food is pretty much the most important part, but I am SO the girl who goes to a party and dines on fudge and wine. Obviously it is better to have someone who cares do this part. Also, they did an AWESOME JOB. Seriously, not to brag or anything, but it was SO AWESOME. We decided on the menu together, but she and BIL made everything look pretty (most important to me) and taste delicious (most important to everyone else). I also have a refrigerator full of leftover cream puffs. I WIN. 

2. Have a hot chocolate bar. I found out later that my other sister (who comes early and helps me decorate - I am very much into Slave Family Labor) was Doubtful on the hot chocolate bar. And I have to say that DURING the party I was doubtful as well, because as far as I could tell, no one was drinking any. But this morning I went around picking up a bazillion paper cups with hot chocolate sludge in the bottom and I realized: dude. A lot of people drank hot chocolate! Also, it looked pretty cute. (The plastic spoons dipped in melted chocolate seemed to be a hit too.)

3. Have champagne pomegranate punch. I didn't have the right rum for this recipe AND a friend had to go out and buy more ingredients because one batch looked puny in my gigando new punch bowl, but it was SO PRETTY and SO TASTY. Highly recommend. 

4. Not go crazy on the cookies. For Christmas parties past I made ninety-seven different kinds of super complicated cookies and NO ONE EVER ATE THEM by which I mean the only cookies people really ate were the GROSS SUGAR COOKIES with all the ICING and WHY WAS I DOING THIS? I still love making cookies, but I scaled it back big time. And still, the only food left over was the sugary kind. (This blows my mind, by the way. I will go with sugar each and every time.) I'll still make a few more for family get togethers and Christmas Eve, but I'm happy with what I had for the party this year. (Not like I had the time to make a zillion cookies anyway EMMA.)

5. Keep a Pinterest board. My favorite party moment: when the wife of one of Phillip's former classmates said, "I want to take a picture of this room and put it on Pinterest! Have you heard of Pinterest?" And then I fetched the laptop and showed her my party pinboard. HEH. (We did Christmas lyric garlands, tomato cage trees, the hot chocolate bar, the branches with ornaments, and a spinach wrap Christmas tree.)

Things I Am Not So Sure About

1. I put all the food on the dining room table in the dining room which meant... everyone hung out in the dining room. So the living room, which is the largest space in the house, was sort of empty, and the dining room was packed and I kept kicking myself for arranging things differently. Next year I think we'll move the table out to the living room and put the food there. 

2. The Booze. We were super into mixed drinks for a while, but as the years go by, people are (it seems to me) not so much into the experimentation as they are with pouring themselves a nice glass of Maker's Mark. As stocking the bar is one of the budget busters I sort of want to rethink the whole thing. Maybe just have the stuff on hand for two or three Signature Party Cocktails. Maybe even pre-mix the pitchers? Not sure how much people enjoy making their own drinks.

3. How to have everything READY. I thought this wouldn't be a problem since I wasn't doing the food, but YOU GUYS. I made an EXTRA PAN of easy toffee bars because I didn't think I had enough - AND THEN I FORGOT THEM IN THE FREEZER. I was making whipped cream for the hot chocolate bar at the last minute. The punch bowl was too large for the punch recipe. I forgot the hummus in the fridge. I opened the jar of tomato sauce for the meatballs, but I never heated it up and served it. It's like the door bell rings and I LOSE MY MIND. And I try SO HARD every year to keep the kitchen moderately clean, and EVERY YEAR it is a TOTAL MESS when people arrive. This drives me BONKERS. Either Phillip comes in to help and makes a giant mess, or we forgot something and need to create another mess or I just totally underestimate MESS IN GENERAL. 

Things I Cannot Do Anything About, But Which Bug Me Continually, To The Point Where I Need To Work On 'Having Perspective'

1. For several weeks my world revolves around "are enough people going to come!?!?" And then enough people DO come (usually) but there are always a few who don't show or call and bail at the last minute and this should NOT disappoint me so much (see: ALWAYS ENOUGH PEOPLE) but it does. 

2. Being so tired that all I want to do is crash on the couch when the party starts. Not doing the food this year REALLY helped in that department, but I was still pretty exhausted. It's sort of like you get everything ready, and then you want everyone to show up the NEXT night, when you've had a nice nap.

3. Feeling like I worked really hard on certain aspects of the party and then feeling like they didn't go over very well. Like the hot chocolate bar - I was super excited about that (and afterwards I think it DID go over well) but at the time I felt kind of bummed about it. Or when my string of Christmas lyrics fell down and I couldn't put it back up because we'd have to get out the ladder - WHO CARES, right? Wait! I CARE. TOO MUCH.

4. Not talking to everyone. See... I know it's weird, but the PARTY part of the party is a teensy bit stressful. Hanging out one on one is WAY preferable to chatting with you at a noisy party, but I don't get to decorate my whole house and serve a Christmas tree of spinach pinwheels and wear a ridiculous satin headband when I hang out with you one on one, right? Not a HUGE deal, but there are always people I only see once or twice a year and then I don't get to talk much with them and when the party's over I'm always like, "MAN! I didn't get to talk to her at ALL! LAME!" 

5. Focusing on all the negative stuff when IN REALITY, I had a super fun time planning and prepping and a super DUPER time when everyone came over and I THINK everyone else had a decent time too AND COME ON, ME!

So. That is that. Next Saturday we're hosting a family party, the Saturday after that is the big Christmas Eve shindig with my family and the Saturday after THAT is New Year's Eve, right? Around then? My head is swimming. I am PRO-CHRISTMAS, but I am very very tired. And Phillip being away this week is not really going to help with that. BLARGH AGAIN. 

I have pictures, but I'll have to post them later. SOMEONE is hungry. (Also, SOMEONE had a major party hangover and slept most of the day, only waking to shriek for lunch or dinner.) Now. Who is going to come over here and give me a foot rub? I can pay you in leftover cream puffs. 

Blargh! And more blargh!

Ugh, today was a hard day. I had to hold the baby all day, which is exhausting. And my back is starting to feel tingly all the time. Like my muscles are about to freeze up or something. It's like this everpresent reminder that I am 1) getting old and 2) could be laid out flat at any moment, and I haven't taught Jack how to call 911. Gak.

Actually, Emma didn't really wake up until noon. She got her shots yesterday morning and slept all that day, all night, and all morning. I should be grateful for that little side effect, right? But I'm really only focusing on my back pain right now, sorry. Am eighty-three years old. 

Molly didn't want to go to preschool (shocker) so I called and said she wouldn't be coming in today and oh, by the way, not ever. I was totally fine with it. I AM totally fine. But the phone call tonight from the preschool director made me feel rotten. Mainly because it was clear - or she's a great actress - that SHE felt rotten. I believe the precise term was, "I am SO SORRY we couldn't meet Molly's NEEDS!" She went on and on about her sensitive, introverted daughter who has a hard time in groups and maybe Molly would like to try out the Twos class where a lot of the kids are just turning three and only meet once a week and there are only TEN kids, and I could still go to MOPS, if I wanted, and there's the Living Nativity this weekend and they'd love for me to stick around...

OH GAWWWWD. I just... how did she know that that is JUST the way to upset me? Seriously, I am tearing up as I write this because I just feel like it all went kablooey or something, and I got myself involved with a CHURCH preschool that is SUPER DUPER into outreach and taking care of its people and... I don't know. I totally know the other side of this fence, right? I have BEEN the other side of this fence. And I just didn't want to say, "Actually, I HAVE a community, I HAVE people watching out for me, I have the INTERNET, I really AM okay, and no I am probably not going to go to MOPS (EVERRRRR)..." Why did I feel like I was letting this lady down? Why did I feel like I had to make HER feel better? This is SO STUPID! I have to keep telling myself: I cannot do all the things. I cannot know all the people. I WILL HAVE TO TERMINATE BARELY BEGUN RELATIONSHIPS WITH PEOPLE WHO PROBABLY BARELY REMEMBER MY NAME. 

So painful. And yes, I know, could I GET any more melodramatic? NO, I COULD NOT. But it's not like you come here for plain ole rational thinking, now, right?

Okay, so then I'm sitting on the couch feeding the baby, as I do, and Mulling over the phone call. I realize that at some point in the phone call the preschool director said, "Like I said in my message"... and it occurred to me that I had never listened to her message. 

Then I realized my mother said the same thing to me about leaving a message. But I didn't hear hers. 

Gee, I hadn't had a voicemail in a REALLY LONG TIME! HUH!

THEN I thought about how ever since Phillip updated my phone to the new operating system I've been getting this SUPER annoying pop up asking me for my voicemail password. Which I ignore, because, COME ON, MY PHONE. Totally one of those things that drives Phillip crazy, by the way. My inattention to technological detail. 

But what if that was preventing me from getting voicemail? And making it so my phone would not NOTIFY me when I had voicemail! HUH!

Phillip grumbled his way through setting up my password thingie and it turns out I had TWENTY-ONE voicemails OMG. I hadn't listened to messages since OCTOBER. (This is how much I do not like talking on the phone, I suppose, that I never called back and/or was curious about my missed calls.)

I am MORTIFIED. I feel so terrible. Nothing really fell through the cracks, probably because everyone knows I am useless with the phone and emailed me too, but STILL. The worst part is that there was a message from my boss from my college job, who I love, who called just to say he was thinking of me and wondering how we were all doing and I NEVER CALLED HIM BACK! I sent him the most apologetic email in the entire world. What is wrong with me?!

BLARGH! Now we are discussing The Family Vacation, which does not seem to be going well. And Emma won't sleep unless we're holding her OR vigorously rocking her bouncy chair with our poor worn out toes and why am I not in bed? 

I think I will go crawl into bed with my book and start over tomorrow. 

Spend All The Money

I'll have, like, five minutes where I feel like I have conquered the world. The five minutes after I fixed up the downstairs AND cleaned the kicthen - those were an AWESOME five minutes. But I would say most of my minutes feel like they do right now, more along the lines of, "party decorations! vacuum! respond to email! fold clothes! pick up the living room! treadmill! update my calendar! WHATDOIDOFIRSTOMGGGG!"

That is when you just need to sit down and write a post on your blawg. 

It was an excellent weekend, if not a little spastic with the oh-my-gosh-I-need-to-do-it-all-right-NOW! Phillip somehow conned his mother into taking the big kids overnight (his dad is living it up in Hong Kong right now) so we could sleep in and laze around. He forgot, however, that when we don't have big kids and we're in the nearish vicinity, he is required to take me to Ikea. Purchased from Ikea: one Hemnes dresser to replace Phillip's old dresser which we will be putting in Jack's new room. (Moving Jack (and Molly, mostly) will take place Thanksgiving weekend OR ELSE.) So that was exciting! They were out of the one other thing I wanted to buy, and because we were not buy ginormous televisions, Phillip was being all cautious with the checkbook. Annoying. I did get a pair of useless cherry red flower pots out of him, though, and HE'S the one who pointed out the sixty-foot long string of "snowball" lights. OBVS we had to have those. 

Then friends had their baby baptized this morning so we went to their church and YOU GUYS, during the homily the priest referenced not only 1) HIS BLAWG but also 2) COMMENTING ON OTHER PEOPLE'S BLAWGS. Why am I not attending that church? HMM?

Actually, if this weekend had a theme, it was Spend All The Money. I have this little budget spreadsheet and I'm rather proud of it and it's nerdly capabilities, but I'm only good about using it for about half the year. THIS time of year it feels... pointless. Presents to buy! Parties to plan! Party CLOTHES to buy! And always there are boots. I always need boots. Well, 'need' is a relative term, but you know how that goes. I bought two pairs on Zappos today. SHUT UP. One pair will be going back. I SWEAR. (And while I'm trying to convince him to go to the shoe store on our way home from the baptism, so that I won't HAVE to buy them online, Phillip starts quoting Friends at me. Lame.)

But also... see, I decided I HAD to have a hot chocolate bar at the party. HAD. But I didn't have anything to put hot chocolate in, except a pot on the stove, so I bought... a Hot Beverage Dispenser on Amazon. I was THISCLOSE to buying a COFFEE URN. I HAVE PROBLEMS.

Also, later, Phillip was all, "We could rent one! We could rent a POPCORN CART or a SNOCONE MAKER!" This is why Phillip is not allowed to plan the parties.

Anyway, obviously I have nothing to say here (oh, here's your Emma Update: STILL COVERED IN BABY BARF) which means it's time to go over to the weight loss blog and confess my many sugary sins. ALAS.  

In which my 19yo self cannot comprehend the Painting As Relaxation concept

It's just Emma and me in the house right now - Phillip is on his way home from picking up the big kids at his mom's house. I meant to have a lovely afternoon getting a few things done, but Miss Gassypants here was all, "You must be joking." So much for getting started on painting the entry way and addressing Christmas party invitations. I can't even do not-fun stuff, like laundry, because I don't think I can get the clothes out of the dryer without dumping the baby into the laundry basket as well. 

She's on Zantac, but I'm beginning to suspect that the real Fuss Culprit is gas. Lots and lots and LOTS of gas. So much gas that I am seriously considering avoiding milk and cheese (and this has NOTHING to do with getting out of eating low-carb, OBVS). Also, she's six weeks which I hear is Prime Fussy Time. (And DUDE - six weeks?!) She's eating every two hours at night, which is not something I can sustain forever... although honestly, I'm not doing too badly in the sleep deprivation department. Even with the fussiness I feel okay. Tired and irritated because I can't do my own thing and stunned by the amount of spit up laundry and maybe a little nervous abut how this Increase in Fuss is going to affect the whole delicate preschool system we've got going on, but overall? I really do think I'm doing well. 

Might I mention I've completely weaned myself off the crazy meds? BOO YA.

Well, now it's hours and hours later... I don't know why I'm so focused, so WRAPPED UP in "doing stuff" right now. I feel like everything I write here has to do with "sure I have a six-week-old baby but I CAN and I WILL [fill in the blank]." Paint. Plan a party. Lose weight. Redesign the Blathering website. Make plans with friends. Find the perfect pendant lamp. Move Jack into his new room. Write! It's so HARD for me to not do stuff. I have no problem taking a cheery contented baby to Home Depot and Target and setting her up in the bouncy chair while I tape off trim or write a blog post or (ha ha) use the treadmill. But having to hold a FUSSY and GASSY baby ALL AFTERNOON... I just start TWITCHING. Sigh. 

So I don't know why we decided to spend our whole Saturday afternoon at a CAMP, a CHRISTIAN camp where we planned to crash our old college fellowship's yearly fall retreat. I KNOW. It sounded kind of losery to me too. We are in our THIRTIES. We do not hang out with spry and overenthusiastic COLLEGE STUDENTS. But one of the Meaningful People from our years in the NDCF was the fall retreat speaker, and Phillip really wanted to attend one of the sessions. I wasn't planning to go. It sounded weird. It sounded uncomfortable. I thought for SURE I would come home with ISSUES. Not least of which would be: I am REALLY OLD NOW. 

But then I thought: hey! This could be sort of fun? Maybe? Because it sounded sort of nice to ditch the big kids with grandparents and spend the day with my husband and my baby in a peaceful lakeside retreat and see old friends. 

So I went! And lo, it was good. Mostly. I mean, I DID feel super old. And I think I spent more time Observing than I usually do. It was neat to see the staff worker side of things (one of my best friends is now the entire NDCF Powers That Be in Western Washington, which is how we got to invite ourselves in the first place, oh yes, you need college ministry hookups - I have them) and we got to hang out with the speaker and eat junk food in a warm cabin and not stress about having an Intense and Important Experience like we did when we were students. Turns out things aren't always such the big deals we thought they were...

But we got home at midnight and Emma was up every two hours and did I mention we are OLD NOW? Someone asked us if we were planning to stay overnight at the camp and attend the Sunday morning session and we did our best "YOU MUST BE JOKING" Emma impression. 

Now it's back to the grind, yes? My biggest hope for Monday is that Emma naps while the kids are at preschool and I can paint my entry way. And this was my biggest reason for not really wanting to go to the retreat: what in the WORLD would my 19-year-old self have to say about my biggest hope? She would die a thousand mortified deaths, that's what. 

Time to slow down and eat some cake

Phillip just left to play board games with a bunch of guys. Fun times, huh?! Okay, that was sarcastic. I am not the board game type. I have TRIED since we are friends with INTENSE BOARD GAMERS but alas, it is not to be. Partly because they are boring, partly because if I cannot win I do not want to play. Seriously. It's just better for EVERYONE if I am not deadset on having the longest train. 

It's all good because Phillip doesn't get to play with his friends very often. This is his own fault (and theirs) of course, because for whatever reason, Men Do Not Make Plans. Whenever he does have a chance to hang out with the guys I always think, "How NICE." Well, right after I think, "Not until the kids are in bed!" 

The other nice thing about when Phillip leaves to have fun with friends (as opposed to work travel or working late or school meetings or whatever) he does a little extra at home. As if to make sure I cannot possibly be upset with him for leaving. So all the trash is out and all his tools are cleaned up and YES, this makes me happy INDEED. Have fun with your game that requires action figures and ten different dice! 

Anyway, I am bumbling around doing my work. This involved updating my Google calendar with the kids' school calendars (and finding out that they have separate Spring Breaks, UGH.) I filled out another nine thousand forms for Molly's school. (A PERSONALITY PROFILE? What for?! I basically used it to warn them about Potty Anxiety.) I did some money stuff and consolidated preschool papers into their appropriate folders, I emailed absolutely everyone back (unless you didn't get an email from me and you were expecting one, which means I did not and OOPS, PLS LET ME KNOW). I updated MY calendar with doctor appointments and baby showers and when my MIL decided to take time off for the baby. My house is still kind of a disaster but my calendar is organized!

I am tired and moody about the house disasterness and slightly overwhelmed by the preschoolness, but I still feel really itchy about doing stuff to my house and it's frustrating. NOW I want to paint the little room off the kitchen. I want to go find a nightstand at a garage sale or Goodwill to paint and match my coral nightstand. I want to make a crib skirt for the new baby's mini crib. I want to head to Ikea and buy all the rest of the stuff we want for the living room. I stood in the playroom for a good half hour this afternoon deciding how to rearrange and paint and where will I put my mom's old sewing machine and sewing machine table because OH YES I'M GOING TO LEARN HOW TO DO THAT TOO. 

Then I remember I'm having a baby in four weeksish and, um, simmer down, Maggie. 

Can I just tell you one other thing that I'm obsessing over, which is TOTALLY STUPID and yet I CANNOT HELP IT? I hate my hair. Hate it. This is the problem with cutting all your hair off: an earlobe-length bob is suddenly WAY TOO LONG. It looks half decent if I take the time to blow dry it (with volumizer) and flat iron the ends. It's not like I could just leave it when it was super short either. I still had to blow dry, but the blow drying took, like, SECONDS and I LIKED it. So I want to go back and chop it off again, but two things: 1) You have to keep cutting it all the time and will I have time to do that with a new baby? I know I'll WANT to, but you know how it goes. And 2) I AM TOO FAT. I feel like my FACE is pregnant and super short hair will be even more unflattering than what I've got right now. I don't know. Perhaps this is stupid. And the people I've happened to timidly ask about it appear to be people who didn't like my super short hair in the first place SO WHATEVER. Shut up, me. And I know you are the internet which means you want a picture, but TOO BAD, INTERNET. Don't got one! Don't wanna take one! I'm just gonna shave my head!

Although, I will tell you now, the shortness will return. Sooner or later. I am NOT going to grow it all the way out only to lose two thirds of it 6 months post partum. GAH.

 

I've made it this far, and I'm feeling pretty good about it

There was a lot of talking today. Hence Thursday's post at Parenting: Talky talky talk talk talk aaaauuuggghhh. (I get to choose my own titles! Bet they regret that!) 

I FEEL like I did a lot today, but clearly nothing to do with my house. It's true that the mess expands to fit the space. It seems as though I can keep one room clean at a time, usually the kitchen (and right now, my bedroom, because I've become Martha Stewart The Dictator about my bedroom) but the living room? Forget it. The top of the stairs? Heh. The kids' room? I'm lucky if I pick the clothes off the floor by the time Phillip gets home. 

But I DID hang a curtain rod today. I DID buy more dish soap in order to keep the kitchen looking decent. I DID do some laundry. I DID clear off the dining room table. I DID feed the kids and fill up the baby pool and take them to the library and a coffee shop for a snack. None of those things, however, resulted in vacuuming the carpet. Which, well, I'd rather not have any of you over until I vacuum the carpet. 

And then when it was time to make dinner, I felt like I couldn't breathe. Not, like, OMG I CAN'T BREATHE WHY DIDN'T I TEACH THE CHILDREN TO DIAL 911, I'm just PREGNANT. This baby is either jammed into my pelvis requiring ninety trips to the bathroom, or jammed up in my rib cage making even STANDING an aerobic exercise. I was standing in the bedroom showing off my curtain rod to Phillip and I found myself out of breath. I had to SIT DOWN. While I was just standing there and TALKING. How many more weeks of this? 

A girl at church whose second baby is about a year old told me I should let her know how the third one goes. She said she's heard the second is the worst (I think she meant pregnancy/birth-wise.) I haven't heard that, but I can definitely get behind it! Have you guys heard that? Or something completely different? Like my mother and my SIL both say that their third babies were ridiculously easy, that the third one just "blends in". But then I have all these OTHER people saying that the third one is when the you know what really hit the fan. I'm sure it all DEPENDS. But in the meantime I'm perfectly happy to think the second pregnancy is the worst and the third baby is the easiest. Works for me!

As for the pregnancy part, so far, YES. I think a lot of my Molly misery had to do with being bat@#*% insane, but I KNOW I was also physically miserable at this point. I know that summer was much warmer - maybe that had something to do with it? But I also remember not being able to sleep on one side for very long because my hips were so sore, and having to sleep with something like eighty-seven pillows. I'm pretty sure I had gained more weight by this point. I'd already made numerous declarations that I was never doing this again. 

And this time feels easier. Not as easy as with Jack (though how much of that was just enjoying the NOVELTY of being pregnant, I wonder) but except for the shortness of breath and sharp pains if I walk too fast, I don't feel too bad. I usually sleep all right (except for the dreams, OMG THE DREAMS, I swear, my subconscious is WACKED OUT), the heartburn has sort of subsided, I'm not swollen, I don't have that sciatica pain so many people mention, I'm not nauseous or anything. I've had it pretty easy so far. Again, I have two months left and the fact that I just wrote positively on the internet means I am pretty much screwed by month 8, but whatever. I'm going to be thankful. 

ALSO. Two and a half pregnancies later I am still stretch mark free. I may have the sort of body that gains weight everywhere and triples in boob size and makes people think I've just eaten too many cheeseburgers (at a point where I feel I am OBVIOUSLY PREGNANT I still had two people who didn't know look totally surprised to find out, GAK) but I am totally going to brag about no stretch marks. GIVE ME THAT, INTERNET!

(Watch. I'll see my first one when I wake up tomorrow morning.) 

I feel like we've got a lot going on still - three more family birthdays, friends staying with us for our couples' weekend, packing in a few more outside-on-the-deck dinners, the start of PRESCHOOL! - and I'm exhausted but thankful at the same time. This third pregnancy went quickly. Again, two more months, but I'm thinking ONLY TWO MORE MONTHS? HOW IS THAT POSSIBLE? But everything going on will make those two months go quickly too, and that's fine with me. I'm getting awfully tired of looking at all the super cute outfits on Pinterest and not being able to wear them. Of course, all the super cute outfits on Pinterest are for girls with five-inch-circumference thighs and God knows even starving myself won't get me long skinny legs. ALAS. I'll have to settle for no stretch marks, eh? 

Portlandia

My kids are going to stay with my parents for the weekend. Three nights. I THINK they've done three nights before... I think when we went to the wedding in LA last summer. But it still feels long-ish and bad parent-ish. Not that I am not SO looking forward to my mini break. 

(I love that term: mini break. I think this is because I just finished reading 'One Day'. How very British of me.)

Anyway, so I am packing and I overpack for the kids. I just have to. The weather is SUPPOSED to be nice, but WHO KNOWS and certain people are often soiling themselves and I just want to stuff their entire dresser into a duffel bag. And packing means laundry. I'm on my fifth load. 

I think I tried to make up for the we're-ditching-you-all-weekend by taking them to see Winnie The Pooh this morning (FAIL) and to the wading pool this afternoon (WIN). My small niece was with us the entire time, which means I got a nap in between those two events, but I'm beat. Did I mention I'm on my fifth load of laundry? Also waiting for the polycrylic to dry on my new white desk?

I am also catching up on a lot of Blathering-related emails and tweets and website business and feeling mopey. I thought I was At Peace with the whole not-going thing this year, but it turns out it really sucks to be involved in planning something you can't attend. Not that I'm terribly involved in the planning this year (sorry fellow planners) but you know. I guess I DON'T have an opinion on Saturday night's menu because I DON'T GET TO EAT IT. 

I'm really lucky I got to see some of my Blathering ladies earlier this year when they crashed that Nintendo promotional thing. Maybe they'll come back. I am not above inviting myself to their houses either. Wah. 

But I have my mini break! My parents are picking up the kids tomorrow morning and dropping us at the train station. You have no idea how excited I am about the train, people. I love the train. I think it is a most lovely way of getting places, even though I have, at various points, taken the train to the wrong town, taken the train in the wrong direction, taken the train that doesn't stop in my town, and slept overnight in a Questionable Train Station that I often read about in my Italian murder mysteries as being a truly Criminal Venue. 

However! I am fairly confident in my ability to ride THIS train correctly and I shall be packing my bag full of Train Treats and perhaps a neck pillow for narcolepsy purposes, and I have plans to fill the Kindle tonight. Plus the weather is supposed to be downright glorious (SORRY, TEXAS) and it just feels exciting to get away. I was disappointed about San Francisco and Vancouver, but Portland is filling in quite nicely now. For a while we thought about lodges and resorts and getaways in Washington, but they were all of the outdoorsy type. Lots of hiking or boating or looking at the scenery and while those places are GREAT, they are not great for ME. I have a short attention span. I am a city girl. And I am pregnant. I do not want to sit in a lodge for three days straight. (Well, unless I am trying everything on the spa menu.)

So anyway. Obvs we will be bringing the internet with us (AS IF) but I am actually going to try and stay away. I'm finding that's good for me every so often. The biggest plan is to move into Powell's. In the meantime you can go read my newest post at Parenting, about breastfeeding, since that's always good to write about in a public forum. Also, you may gaze adoringly at my kids. They'll protect my website while I'm gone!

 

Thirty-two

I am not ready to be home from vacation. We had a really lovely time, especially the kids, who both started bawling when they realized they were putting on their shoes to get in the car to go home. 

I'm not ready to be home, even though it's sunny (WAY sunnier than it was at the beach) and the kids are still asleep and I have an internet connection. I liked having all those people around. I loved watching my kids play with their cousins, cousins they see maybe once a year. I was worried about that - Jack is possessive of Grandma, he's a smidge sensitive, he's used to being The Boss. But instead of usurpment and hurt feelings, the kids seemed to get along marvelously. 

It helped that there was a giant ocean just perfect for running in and out of - if you didn't think about the part where the weather was maybe sixty degrees and the water even colder. There is tons of photographic evidence of the Small Boy Crazy that I'll need to show you sometime. I may have to take the kids to the wading pool today, just to make up for being home. 

I have so much to do. I have a party to plan, a house to finish painting, boxes and boxes of baby clothes to sort, a kitchen that is never clean, but I feel like all I can really get done in a day is one thing. Maybe two. Bonus points if I manage to make dinner as well. 

My whole body is itchy. I blame insects and Third Baby. It's the bug bite on the bottom of my foot that makes me want to die.

Preschool flipped some days around on me, and I have to figure all of that out. 

I'm feeling ugly. Short hair, bad skin, a body that is increasingly unwieldy. I have several upcoming occasions for which I need to look Nice and I feel sort of despairing about that. And then I keep thinking about how all my hair is going to fall out in a few months. Good times. 

But I spray painted my candle holder yellow, and I really like it. I bought a tall, curvy white vase to sit on my sideboard and I spend an awful lot of time on Pinterest wondering what sorts of wooden or paper flowers to put inside it. I could go to World Market this morning and just look around - my kids let me do that as long as we spend sufficient time in the cheapy toy section. I still need a decorative pillow for my rocking chair. 

I think about putting in hardwoods. 

Then I think about the million other Large Expenses on our list. 

I haven't written anything in almost a year. But there are over 50 some books on my Kindle. 

Oh wow, it's really starting to be beautiful outside. AND the kids are still sleeping. I should be outside on my deck with a cup of coffee and the Kindle and what am I still doing here?

 

Read this, then go read that

Dear Internet,

I was freaking out, as I do, over this THING today, and I was writing a post about it all day long in my head, and then I realized I had no content for Parenting. Let us all first acknowledge the fact that I REMEMBERED I had to write something for Parenting BEFORE it was due! Slow clap! And now I must send you all over there AND BEG FOR COMMENTS because seriously, I am NERVOUS. 

Advice for the virgin playdater!

We are headed to a preschool friend's house tomorrow morning and my core conundrum is this: do we stay and hang out? Or should we just drop him off? It was unclear in the phone conversation, and it will probably be unclear tomorrow due to all the Politeness Factors. I've never dropped a kid off before, and certainly not with a mom I barely know. Not really the issue - I know her well ENOUGH. But I'll have Molly with me and I just don't know what the PROTOCOL is and ack just read the post. And leave me a comment because I NEED MORAL SUPPORT. By ten am my time. FYI. Why yes I AM giving you orders.

IN OTHER NEWS... there is no other news. Phillip's class is going better than I thought, by which I mean he doesn't come home TOO late at night. And since most of the other students are younger and cockier and babyless/spouseless, he comes home with entertaining stories about Just How Annoying Kids Are These Days. I'm enjoying that. 

I've also spent several college educations' worth of cash at Target (natch) on account of having HOUSEGUESTS this weekend. This particular houseguest happens to be someone I babysat long long ago, plus her husband AND HER BABY OMG SHE HAS A BABY and while I am dreading feeling like The Old Lady, I'm looking forward to it anyway. Plus the part where I get to spend money at Target. 

I unpacked seven more boxes today. You: You still had seven boxes to unpack?! Me: Shut up. Most of them were of the Stuff We Use Once A Year variety and/or boxes of cables and cords that I could consolidate into other boxes of anonymous cables and cords. Those are Phillip's problem. But as his "office" is also the "guest room" I need him to get cracking on that. Maybe I need to remind him that it's WELL PAST June ninth. 

The summer continues to not exist. It DID get warmer this evening and we DID head to a playground, but we were still wearing sweatshirts. I don't want to complain too much, because I sure don't want everyone else's 100 degree weather (THERE IS NO CENTRAL AC IN THE PACIFIC NORTHWEST) but gee whiz, it'd be NICE to play in the sprinkler before August. Just once! Plus the kids have grown out of all their long shirts and pants I REFUSE to buy more long shirts/pants because goshdarnit IT'S SUMMER WE WANT TO WEAR SHORTS.

Okay go comment on my playdate post. In the morning. It's not morning right now. It's 9pm, also known as Game of Thrones time even though that show stresses me out so much, why do I keep watching it?! I spend half the time with my hands over my eyes asking Phillip, "Is it over? Is it over?" Gah.