His Name Was Henry

...until about 12 days ago when for some reason it was decided that the world needed another Caleb.

He's 7 days old today. He's the definition on contentment. He's the piece to our family puzzle that we didn't even know was missing. He's like the end of one chapter and the beginning of another. If you need me I'll be smooching him to bits. xoxo

Click...click...click...click...

You've waited in line (for almost a year). You knew eventually you'd get to the front of the line and it would be your turn. Looks like they're ready for you. So you pick a seat, and buckle up. You're a little excited, probably giggling and chatting. You've got a buddy next to you. Everyone around you is excited too. And then you slowly start moving. And then you realize what's actually about to happen. And then you hear it: click...click...click...click. You're going up. Your excitement has suddenly turned into fear.

WAIT! I'm not ready! I think I want to get off.

You grab a hold of your seat, and maybe your buddy's hand. You look to the left and then to right and you begin to wonder why you decided to do this in the first place.

Maybe this was a bad idea. Is it too late? Will they stop the ride for me? What if it gets stuck? I'm not sure I can do th... Why did the clicking stop? OH BOY! HERE WE GOOOOOOO!

It's out of your hands now. You're not in control. You bear down, you scream a little (or a lot), and your hair gets all messed up. You're thrilled and terrified at the same time. When it's all over you're elated, and you're so glad you did it.

No. I'm not heading to the amusement park. I'm scheduled to be induced tomorrow morning. As you know, this ain't my first rodeo (my first two were also inductions...both were fantastic, BTW) but I still feel the nerves. There's no doubt my chin will be chattering as I'm gowning up tomorrow. My teeth actually tap together like a cartoon character, I'm not kidding. It happened before both deliveries, when I got a tattoo, and it happens every time I get on a roller coaster.

PS: I unethically swiped this photo and have no cred to offer... it's from one of my Pinterest boards and the source led to nowhere. If I find it, I will certainly share it. 

Cue the Fanfare!

So my Royal Baby Knitting Pattern has been getting a lot of attention lately.

Apparently the world is on pins and needles (knitting needles!?) waiting for a baby to arrive. Yeah, me too, but it's my own baby, and honestly... my heart goes out to the Royal Family, especially sweet Kate. Can you imagine having every news outlet in the world outside your hospital room? Her post-baby appearance will be front page. And HOLY MOLY the pressure of raising that child!
If that's not bad enough, there's all those wackos out there capitalizing on the birth of an innocent child. Woops, that'd be me, huh? Shame shame. 

I Take That Breath

I keep catching myself taking a long, deep breath in through my nose, and then gently and quickly exhaling. If you were to see me do it, you might think it's an expression of frustration or trying to stay calm. But it's the opposite.

It's more like a breath of gratitude for the present... a reminder that our life is changing, and the breath is my effort to soak in the moments that are quickly flying by.

I feel that Little Wonder do what feels like a somersault in my belly and I take that breath. I wonder what he will bring to our family, what he will look like, how we will adjust, and what it will feel like to know that our family is complete.

When that magnificent girl with the big round eyes asks me those big round questions, I take that breath. Just this week I was faced with questions about the judicial system, mental illness, and why that boy working at the grocery store looked and sounded like a girl. She asks important and intelligent questions, one after another. She wants to know so much, and she's looking to me for the answers, and I'll  answer them all day long if I have to.

And our sweet goofy Munchkin Boy. When I think about how he is going to make the switch from the being the baby in the family to the middle child, I take that breath. The middle child sometimes gets a bad rap, and I can't imagine him being anything but the most flawless little goosh of baby sweetness that ever lived.

On a daily basis I'm reminded of our fortunate circumstances: our good health, our peaceful life, our exciting future. I'm reminded that these things aren't guaranteed, and they may not last forever, and I take that breath.

I just don't want to miss anything! Or take anything for granted! I don't want to have that dreaded "looking back" moment where I wish I would have been paying more attention. I'm paying attention, I'm thankful for this moment, and I'm hopeful for the next moment, each time I take that breath.

Mr. Universe

If you are 9 months pregnant and it's super hot and humid and mosquito-ey outside, and you don't want to be in bed by 8 on Friday night, but you don't want to leave your living room, have your husband/SO/BFF pick up a take & bake pizza and make a stop at the movie machine to grab Jim Gaffigan, Mr. Universe.

But don't blame me if you laugh so hard that you die (I thought I was going to), or your water breaks (I grabbed a towel to sit on!), or you end up laugh-sobbing with your mascara all over your face (me), or your pizza on your shirt (husband).

I know, I should review movies for a living.

They Don't Make'em Like They Used To...

Rockstars, that is. I just heard Fleetwood Mac on the radio and totally geek-jammed in front of my daughter (already embarrassed of her mother at the tender age of seven and a half). Then I found this pic and decided that these guys look some kind of cool that we just don't see anymore. Artists/performers/celebrities "these days" look so over-groomed. It's no secret that they all have somebody telling them what to say, what to sing, what to tweet, what to wear. We hear their song on the radio 100 times a day for a month and never hear it again.

Do you think Mr. Buckingham was TOLD to wear those brown socks with his platform sandals? Yeah, I doubt it. But 40-some years later, I'm groovin' in my mommy-wagon to his song that came out before I was even born (in Sophie's defense, it really was embarrassing). 

 

 If you need me I'll be double checking that that is a piece of hair Ms.Stevie has in between her thumb and her index finger (this is a family blog).