S.O.S.

Having contractions, but the aren't getting any closer together and sometimes they are gone altogether. Trying to figure out a better escape plan.

Wishin' hopin' thinkin' prayin'

I am writing this on Karen's behalf because she is desperately hoping to have a child today. (So far, only an intense anger has been born.) I know things are getting close, as Karen is shifting from her normal use of contractions (don't, won't, can't shouldn't), to tightening her belly muscles in an effort to evict her third son from his cozy belly condo. Since most of you probably don't remember when your own mother evicted you (and assuming you're not reading this in utero), let me tell you what it seems to be like:getting out of a nice hot tub to roll in the snow.

My parents say that when I was born, I actually came out backward, spread eagle, with full claws extended in a futile attempt to stay lodged in my shrinking serenity. However, now that I am in the position of staring down the barrel of a third son, I think I am going to have to fault them for failing to mention the serenity (and sanity) that the parents give up. Seriously, they could have warned me about this. The only thing Dad told me when we got pregnant was 'you know they discovered what causes that.' (-Advice that would have been very helpful if were weren't trying and my wife was a light bulb.)

It is such a fitting irony that parents must suffer to enjoy the life of a child. With each of our first two sons, I can distinctly recall having inevitable thought (that probably comes to every parent) about 3:12 AM three weeks after birth- can't we put him back? But for all of the pain and hardship you go through, that genetic switch just flips in your head and the second he's born you just would not think twice about taking a bullet for that 7 pounds of screaming, eating, pooping, and (God-willing) sleeping baby boy.

Dead zone

So someone told me the other day that they've heard the last few weeks of pregnancy referred to as the "dead zone." Meaning, you don't want to make any plans or be anywhere in case you go into labor, so you're just waiting, mostly miserably for the day. I find it interesting, that for the most part, the only things we don't plan in life are birth and death. Don't we just love knowing/scheduling our lives? I like the convenience, and maybe the security of knowing where the people I'm going to need will be. So not knowing makes me slightly frustrated. Plus the cherry on the top is feeling like a whale with an alien punching you inside, and wanting it OUT! But, as Jason reminds me,I will be asking in the weeks ahead to just put it back. I tried to have some pictures taken, but it seems I look fat in my face now, so there was only one picture I really liked.
Anyway, I'm getting everything ready. Meals planned for next 10 days, check. Clothes washed, floors cleaned, check, check. Now I just need to get the crib up and the bags packed. Jason's even going out of town for a few days. Better wait a week or so.

Today I officially became a scrapbooking groupie

I took my kids down to Gateway Children's Museum with my sister-in-law today. As I was watching my kids play in the helicopter I started talking to some women next to me. One of them looked familiar, and then I placed her. I knew her name. All because I have a serious addiction to scrapbooking and the magazine this wonderful woman works for. I think I have been reading Simple Scrapbooks for almost 5 years. I recognized Wendy Smedley from her picture. She even invited me to come down and meet some of the staff. I didn't act quite as giddy as I was inside, because I didn't want to seem like a psycho-path scrapbooker who is playing "Where's Waldo" with scrapbooking industry women, but I am soooo excited. So there it is. I am a groupie, and for those of you who don't understand, thank you for listening anyway

Snow Canyon (really sand canyon)

Last weekend we took a family vacation to St. George. I was beautiful weather and quite enjoyably exhausting for all. The kids had tons of fun playing on the sand dunes at Snow Canyon, but my husband wouldn't let me take my camera because of all the wind and sand. It was probably our last trip as a family of 4. We also watched the planes take off at the airport several times. It reminded me of pre-9/11 when we could get remotely close to an airport. The other really fun thing was meeting Jason's brother's baby, Tori, for the first time. Eli and Tori became fast friends because Eli would let her fake punch him in the face and she'd giggle and giggle. (She's 6 months old, but even so I made Eli stop because his face got so red.) Anyway, good times, good times.

Is Restaurant Mommy similar to Malibu Barbie?

Wyatt woke up this morning and said we needed to play restaurant and he wanted pancakes and eggs. After I made it for him, he said "Thank you, Restaurant Mommy." I really think that isn't my whole job description. I'm also Laundry Mommy, DIshes Mommy, Park Mommy, and best of all Beautiful Mommy. (Wyatt tells me that to get what he wants I think.) Anyway, now you also know our favorite kind of egg is over medium with ketchup. :)

My own roller coaster

I'm trying hard to feel the love of having a baby right now. I'm totally uncomfortable and sometimes frightened for what I know I'm in for again, but I think I'm feeling like I can wait til the end for a little while more. I can remind myself to enjoy the movements and the fact I don't hear crying. But I long to sleep on my stomach, and to stop moving like a whale. Yesterday I had tons of energy, today I couldn't vacuum if my life depended on it. ( Well maybe if my life depended on it.)
The other thing I've been pondering today is why someone else's bad mood can make me feel so bad too. Does everyone feel this way?
On the up-side, we are going to St. George this weekend. Ahhhh... 60 degrees sounds heavenly. Oh, and I'm starting to read the Diary of Anne Frank. I never read it as required reading, so here's to the beginning of a long list of classics I need to catch-up on.