It's Raining, It's Pouring

We had our first rain on Wednesday since . . . . hmmmm . . . . can't even remember . . . . April? Major cause for celebration. The girls immediately stripped down to "unders" and put on vests; they frolicked until I thought they'd get hypothermia --- and then some. We filled a hot bath for them and they came in to warm up. Next thing I knew, they were out of the tub, and back on the tramp; this time in nothing but their birthday suits. Jon and I watched them as they laughed hysterically, slid around on the trampoline and enjoyed the rain. Leah had a cough, and Estie had some boogies, but we couldn't bear to pull them off. Instead, Jon went in and added some fresh hot water to their bath. After several minutes of sheer happiness, they came back in, wet like baby seals.

Studying Leah

Now she's got it! (This pic should be after the next one. So much for trying to do things in reverse to tell a story.)

Esther's attempt at catching rain in her mouth. She hasn't quite got the tilt-the-head thing down.

The decision was made to celebrate the first rain on the tramp . . . in underwear and vests. Estie has a constant wedgie. She even will say, "got a wedgie, mom!" I'm surprised that you can't see a whole cheek.

The girls in action on the wet tramp. Estie catches wicked air for a 2.5 year old!

Estie didn't want anything to do with the photo shoot.

Bliss

I love the gap in her teeth. I secretly hope it won't close all the way. It's such a signature of my Leah Bluette (along with the curly hair).

A close up of the classssssic wink.

Should I Wink, Mom?

Leah came out the other morning and surprised me with this outfit. I think it's just about the cutest thing I've ever seen her put together---complete with the orange knee socks. And then when I told her I wanted to take a pic, she did this hilarious little winking thing. I asked her why she was squinting and she said, "I'm just winking! Should I wink, mom?"

19 weeks and counting . . .

I feel like I've gone into a stage of hibernation or hermitage. Maybe both. It's just that I'm not a gracefully pregnant person, and when I'm still barfing in the 18th week, there isn't much cheer around here. Definitely not enough to go around.

When people ask me how I'm doing, I can't lie. All right, sometimes I do. But mostly, I'm a wet rag to the general populace. Pregnancy zaps all of my motivation, ambition, drive, brain power, patience, creativity . . . and leaves me a shadow of my former self. But, to quote my "favorite" misquote: "I never said it would be easy; I only said it would be worth it." Although that's not a bad philosophy to follow, I can't stand seeing pictures of Christ with a near-tear in His eye and that quote. He never said that. But that's beyond the point. And "Footprints"? What's with "Footprints" anyway? I digress . . .

I guess that little rant was just case-in-point to show you my current mental state. I almost erased it because it has nothing to do with anything, but realized that it was a proper Exhibit of said behavior/thought processes. If you need cheering up, definitely give me a call.

I wish it wasn't this way, but if this is what it takes to usher in a new life, so be it. I just don't know if I can ever do it again. Jon knows that I can't. He has forbidden it. I never argue with my husband. Ever.

I do get really happy when I see a picture of a new baby----especially one that is straight from his mother's womb. For some reason, seeing the baby before it's cleaned, scrubbed, swaddled, dressed, and "presentable" is just so amazing. I got shivers the other day when I was looking at pictures of a baby with the umbilical cord still attached---I almost burst out into tears. Not necessarily tears of happiness, sadness, or any label-able emotion, but just tears for the rawness and realness of human existence---in all its amazing savageness. I'm actually really excited for delivery of this baby. That first moment is literally a merging of heaven and earth. And the spirit is literally unrestrained.

And so although it's hard for me to see into the beyond right now, I am getting to the point where I can see glimpses again of how amazing new life is. And how sacred family is. And how glad I am that there will be one more spirit and body entering our family.

Will he/she have curly hair? Or no hair? Or silver highlights like Estie did? Will he be a great sleeper? Ping-pong nurser like Leah? Cuddler? Who will this baby be? It's a wide-open question with such a specific answer. I can't wait to meet this baby.

cutest gogglers in the world

We had a lovely, lazy Labor Day weekend in Clovis with Grandma Jane and Grandpa Bill. The girls especially loved playing for endless hours in their new pool. Leah got very comfortable in the water and swam all around with that noodle. And she loved pretending that everyone else was a shark. Esther, without a swimming lesson to her name, thought she was a pro swimmer. We had to watch that chica like a hawk. Every once in awhile she'd start yelling, "I'm drowning, I'm drowning!" Thankfully she didn't.

South Africa and "the Iraq"

This has to be the funniest thing I've seen in a long time. And she still won 3rd Runner-up. There must've been lots of talented girls in the pageant this year.

Leah on her first day

Shiver me timbers! My heart sunk and sang as I dropped this little sweety petitey off to school. This is at pick-up, where she seemed a little shell-shocked. She is with new friend, Brittney, who also has severe food allergies and an EpiPen. They are fast friends and find each other each morning. Hugs are exchanged on arrival and departure.

Estie and Hannah

are new best friends. This is on the first day of school when we dropped off our kids; estie was lost all morning without Leah, but soon she'll be in preschool with Hannah! We are all excited about that . . . and praying our guts out that the potty training kicks in before then.

Dancing on the sand stage

In Motion at the Ocean

One of the best days of my life

was at Half Moon Bay on last Tuesday. I made Jon take the day off so we could celebrate summer one last time before Leah started Kindergarten. The weather was beautiful, Sus and kids met us there, and we had a completely enchanting afternoon and evening.

Go to

Darlyblog for a 20% off coupon code--- and the chance to win one of 2 $50 gift certificates. All in celebration of Darlybird's 1st anniversary!

Oh yeah . . . .

We went to get an ultrasound last Monday (I'll skip the terrible story of the Dr. who "shushed" me and refused to check for a heartbeat. Don't even want to waste my time. Moral: new Dr. for me.)

The baby was moving, the heart was beating, and I couldn't believe how surreal it is each time. This is my 3rd "first peek" at new life growing in me, and it always catches me off guard with its wonderfulness. I keep thinking it will be old hat and that it's no big deal. But then I saw this baby's little hand reaching behind its head (already chillin') and little legs kicking around----all I could do was giggle, really! Until the u/s tech told me she didn't want me to laugh---or even breathe for that matter---because she couldn't see when I did.

Upshot? The u/s showed the baby to be 12.5 wks old. 1.5 weeks less than I thought. A bit of a bummer, but they have been off on my other babies, too, so I'm going to hold on to a shred of hope that I'm really 15 wks now instead of 13.5. And I know 10 days doesn't seem like a big deal, but to a pregnant woman who feels semi-miserable and low-grade grumpiness for 9 straight months, 10 days is a freakin' eternity!

So now I'm just biding my time and realizing that I should probably adopt some self-discipline when it comes to cravings. So far, whenever I feel an intense urge for something, i.e. tempura vegetables or powdered sugar donut holes (!?!), I give in because I feel like it's not only my perogative, but my duty. So tonite as I was picking up a prescription at the ghetto Walgreens, I remembered my craving for Twizzler's Pull and Peel. I used to eat this stuff constantly my freshman year in college with my chicas. We thought that since there wasn't any fat, that it didn't matter how much you ate. Good thing that's about all I ate. Cuz I would've exploded otherwise. Anyhow, I gave into the single size serving of Cherry P. and P. and realized for the millionth time (haven't had it since I overdosed in college) that I must've been on something in college to think that stuff was worthy of my eating. Can I say plastic? Or rubber? It made my mouth numb after the first string. But I still ate it because my body said to. Cut to my horrid daymare of gaining 70 lbs during this pregnancy. No giving in tomorrow. Maybe.

my delights

I'm not famous, but my big brother is bound to be!

Read about my brother's Disney-purchased screenplay . . . it's sure to be a delight once it's made. I am definitely a proud younger sis, and thrilled to live vicariously through his success. Way to go, Josho!

And FYI: he was the one that thought up and pitched the whole PIRATES (of the Caribbean) idea to Disney. But since he was working for them, he didn't get paid even one cent. Or get any credit for it. Of course someone else wrote it, but they still liked the names Will, Elizabeth and Jack (his names) . . . and the general premise. So if you know me, you're really only 3 degrees away from Johnny Depp. (Kind of.)

Just Thought I'd Say HI

I've been feeling quite barfy lately (especially at 12:21 am this morning when I awoke to the heeby jeeby queazies . . . luckily my trusty orange bowl was at my bedside.) I'm currently burning a few holes in my mouth sucking on Sour Patch Fruits---not the kids, the little fruit-shaped ones. I've been craving them for a few weeks now, but never bothered to do anything about it. I mean, a craving for watermelon or a turkey sandwich, or pickles seems worth a trip to the store. But an outing to get SOUR PATCH FRUIT SALAD? I mean, where do you even find that? Or justify the gas to go get it!?~

So yesterday I had a fabulous outing with my sister Susannah and my mom, who had dutifully flown from SLC on a moment's notice to help me out while Jon was off galavanting with 2 of his BFFs on the Cali coast. Anyway, we went out to lunch at a superb new Sacto hot-spot and then decided to go to the chi-chi (shi-shi?) shopping center adjacent to the restaurante. I enjoyed the over-stuffed easy chairs in Talbots whilst me madre enjoyed trying on cute clothes for mission #2 to GHANA. I fessed up about my craving for Sour Patch Fruit Salad to Sus, who replied that she had never even seen that, and good luck finding it anywhere, and couldn't I just settle for Sour Patch KIDS? My reply, "absolutely not."

Cut to 15 mins later. I decided to head into David Berkeley---a very exclusive deli/gourmet food store/patisserie---which I had only heard tale of (and tasted sandwich of) but never gone in before. I don't get to this side of town too often, so I thought I should take the op to case the joint. When what to my wandering eyes did appear, but:

SOUR PATCH FRUIT SALAD!!!!

Friends, the Gods of Maternal Cravings were with me. There were exactly 7 canisters of bulk candy in the entire store, and one of them belonged to said desire. I immediately asked the counter lady for help and explained how grateful I was to David Berkeley for supplying my most desired/weird food fantasy. I always feel like I must explain everything to everyone, which I realize is a handicap---people really don't care. I told her I was pregnant, blah, blah, blah, and then she looked at me and said, "YOU BETTER TELL YOUR DOCTOR THAT YOU'RE EATING SUGAR." I asked her if she was joking, assuming she absolutely was. She wasn't. I should've said, "you better tell your doctor that you're a smoker," (it was obvious) but instead told her that she should add some chocolate covered gummy bears to my order. HA.

And now I'm not sure if I'm feeling better or worse than when I started. I guess it doesn't matter. I'm performing some pretty serious business here. I think I've worked up the hunger for a turkey sandwich with extra pickles.

*****Addendum: I forgot that I hadn't mentioned how pregnant I am. Best guess is 12-13 wks. But I'm not sure because I wasn't paying attention. And I don't get to see a Dr. until August 2nd because of stupid insurance malfunctions . . . so I'm praying they're going to say, "Land's ALive! You're 22 weeks!" (Yeah right!) I'll keep you posted.

OH Gracious!

Esther LOVES makeup. Recently she obliterated 3 lipsticks, and a set of eyeshadow. This is the scene I found the other day after a curiously long spell of silence. I lifted her up to the mirror and said, "Do you like this? Or is it a little bit freaky?" She answered: "A little bit fweaky, mama." I actually think it's one of the cutest, most hilarious things I've witnessed in a long time. Love ya, Est!

A few things . . .

1. I'm pregnant.

2. Check out this website. Brought a big smile to my face, even though I'm totally nauseated right now.