There are two kinds of women in this world. For some women, being pregnant is this amazing, earthy experience. They get the glow. They feel energized and organic. The look somehow sexier. They fit into their pre-pregnancy jeans before they drive home from the hospital. I have a few friends like this. Case in point: my friend Angela, at the hospital IN LABOR, wearing her high-heels and looking hot.And then there's the rest of us.For some of us, pregnancy feels like having the flu for 9 months. . . .
I wish this picture was full of crap
I am in somewhat of a conundrum. On the one hand, I want to be that mom who is totally laid-back about potty-training. I think that pushing kids to train early is neither developmentally or psychologically appropriate. Plus, potty-training is a pain. So my motto has always been: wait until they are completely ready, and then wait a little more. They will get there. No hurry. On the other hand . . . I really really really really really want India to start preschool with Jafta this summer. I am . . .
Before four
Oh boy. I just found this in my "drafts" section. These were the goals I wanted to accomplish before baby Karis made her arrival. I ended up never even completing this post, much less the things on the list. In fact, of this list, I have accomplished ONE thing. I know where the kids are attending preschool. Everything else has taken a back burner to my pregnant napping schedule. Do you thing I will be able to finish the whole list in the next two weeks? 1/2/09This would be the New Year's . . .
The debt solution
. . .
Everyone loves a pregnant woman (but kids we could do without)
I've been noticing something funny lately. There have been more and more situations this month (thanks to having an amazingly hands-on husband) where I have been running errands or grabbing coffee by myself instead of with two kids in tow. And you know . . . it is truly incredible how nice people are to me when they see that I am pregnant. Chivalry is NOT dead. It is just reserved for the really, really big-bellied. I have people constantly opening doors for me, smiling and saying . . .
witnessing: Michael Scott style (or, how NOT to invite people to Easter)
Okay, whether you go to church or not, I think we can all agree this is funny stuff. This was put together by our church in preparation for last Easter . . . . . .
So Many Books, So Little Time
This is the table by my bed right now. This precarious tower of books are just the ones I am actively working on right now. There are many more piled on the shelves underneath. I think this is the worst it has ever been. I love to read, but I am finding it so difficult right now. I am clearly having a bit of literary ADD. I also suffer from an annoying loyalty that makes me finish every book I have ever started, even if I don't like it. Which really means I just get stuck in the middle of too . . .
and the baby’s name is:
Well, there you have it. And yes, this is the winner of the poll I put here on the blog. So you may take full credit, friends. (Especially you, Kipp, 'cause I know you voted more than once).By the way, although Jafta is now enthusiastic, please know that there were MANY tears shed when we had a family meeting to tell the kids the name of their baby sister. Jafta had his heart set on Coconut, and he was dead serious about it. He wailed, he cried, and I did my best not to laugh at a . . .
full-panel time
If you've been pregnant before, you know what I mean.Early on, you can get away with the rubber band trick, or the low-waist jean. The then tummy expands and it's time for the roll panel.But eventually, you have to surrender and accept the full panel. You've seen the full panel on other pregnant women, and always thought, surely there is another option. Surely there is no reason to wear pants that cover your entire stomach in fabric. But then you get sick of your stomach pushing your jeans down . . .
The Ten Commandments for Little League Moms
I did not grow up in an athletic household. We were what you might call an "artsy fartsy" family. I am much more familiar with ballet shoes and chord charts than I am with cleats and shin guards. The whole concept of being a "sports mom" is both intimidating and a little foreign to me. I am quickly learning what this all means for my life (and free time) for the next 18 years.Jafta has been in t-ball for about three weeks, which of course now makes me an expert on how to be a good baseball mom. . . .
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