Robbin the Bobbin

This morning Amelia and I were going through her story book, while she pointed to and identified all the things she recognized. Birds, sunshine, girl, dog, umbrella, etc. When I turned the page to this particular character she pointed to him and yelled, "mama!", proud of her discovery...

It's true, this is usually the position I'm in anytime I get to relax for a second. And, yes, the poem is about how this character eats everything, eventually eating the people in the town, the livestock and even the church; and is still hungry. So, seeings how she's around me 100% of the time, she's not too far off with the habits either. But, at least it looks like she thinks I have skinny legs.

I'm gonna go make a sandwich now.

Complaining Post

Week 33 of pregnancy no. 2. I am big. No, I'm not going to post photos of how big I am. That's a picture of Meg. I'm writing this blog only to vent some complaints, which are inevitably going to get worse in the next 7 weeks. So, Baby Number 2, this blog's for you.

My belly is big and tight, and as sure as the sun will rise, my back will hurt. I obviously don't sleep well, and after I get done bringing the groceries into the house my groin feels like I just rode a brand new, very cheap bike from Seattle to Portland. I can feel the back of my upper arms resting on the side of my back, letting me know that I have definitely gained weight everywhere. ALL of my underwear is too small because my butt is too big, and I don't have the courage or humility to go buy bigger underwear. So instead, it's just tight and covers about half of what it used to, and I pray that you can't see bulging underwear lines through my maternity jeans. By 5 pm I am totally maxed out for the day; emotionally and physically, and use the energy I have left to will myself NOT to call Grant and beg him to come home sooner. My boobs are completely unrecognizable to me anymore, one of these days I think they're going to just get up, walk away and live a life of their own. I have my "pregnancy" eyes on, meaning EVERYONE looks like they've lost weight to me, and every woman I glance at has me jealous that she just gets to walk around with her empty abdomen, feeding only herself and carrying only herself. Each morning I look in the mirror, seeing what's bigger. "oh my gosh, is my chin bigger?"

I know that it's almost over, that I just need to get through it, and in a few months this last part of pregnancy will seem like a blink of an eye. But for now, I'm going to complain, because I don't complain often, it's not over, and it won't be for about 7 weeks while I keep the fat suit on. Consider this my "pregnancy journal".

Wow, it's been a while!

As I finish week 32 of this pregnancy, and Amelia continues to blossom into the energetic toddler that she is, I don't think I need to mention why I haven't been able to sit down and blog in the last few months. As Halloween, Thanksgiving, and Christmas have raced by and now I find myself dangerously close to being a mother of two, Grant and I are as happy as ever. Every day presents new stories that I wish I could record more often, so I'll just say a few of the recent, daily, happenings that I hope I never forget.

Amelia is now able to take her own diaper off. So, as I was in the bedroom and heard the scratching of the velcro indicating the diaper was being removed, I stomped out to scold her, which of course startled her, so she ripped her diaper completely off and threw it across the living room to scurry and hide in her indoor play tent. The problem was: she'd just pooped in the diaper. Yuck.

Last night I was trying EVERYTHING to get Amelia to eat a simple grilled ham and cheese sandwich for dinner. Instead she was wailing for some sugary yogurt, crackers, ice cream and popsicles, and hearing "no" to her requests only made the situation escalate. Grant relieved me of her and stood in front of the fridge with her as she cried and he tried to comprimise with her. Minutes later, I came to kitchen as she was inhaling pot roast and potatoes...in addition to the sandwich I'd made her. Wide eyed, I asked, "how did you do that?" He responded with a sympathetic look, "Not everyone's cut out for parenting, Heath". Thanks, honey. Can't wait for baby number two.

Amelia never misses a chance to say "hi baby!" to my bulging belly, gives it a kiss and lays her soft head on my tummy. I would love to know if she really understands a baby is in there, but it is such a gift to me that she seems aware of it.

We left Amelia's little play-stroller outside for a few weeks. After snow, wind, rain and messy December weather, it's covered in pine needles and filth. She wanted to bring it in to finally play with it, so I told her we needed to clean it first. I got the bath going, with dishsoap, and with her at my side watching my every move (and very concerned about the stroller), I started scrubbing and explained that it needed to be cleaned. She put her little hand on my back as I scrubbed, and then layed her head on my shoulder while she stood. Then she turned my face with her hands, and very seriously brushed my hair out of my face with her hands to lean in and give me a very sweet kiss. It was like she was so worried about the condition of the stroller, and was so thankful I was taking care of it. I'm not sure if that's what all the emotion was actually attributed to, but it was very apparent and sweet. Anyways, just another special moment.