A Dialogue

It's summer.  I'm 36 weeks and 4 days pregnant.  It's summer.  The kids were being...kids.  Bless their annoying little hearts.

Me: Why don't you go outside and play?

Kembry: Because, we'll be alone.

Me: You do realize you're both human, and when you're together, you're not alone?

Cohen: When Kembry and me are together, we're still alone. (We're working on the grammar.)

A deep stare.  Silence.

Me: Um, did you check in the kitchen for that toy you were looking for?  (I.E. please leave me alone for a minute.)

Cohen: No. 

Me: How come?

Cohen: Because you're wrong. 

Silence.  Deep glare.  They're now in the kitchen helping daddy.  Bless him.

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Feeling It

I have a few fun sewing projects I want to get off the ground but...to be honest...I'm just not feeling up to it!

I'm loving these contractions now because I can tell they're doing something: I feel a tiny head grinding down my cervix with each hard push.  Sometime last night I became resigned to holding onto baby girl a little while longer.  Perhaps it was finding out that two Senior Missionaries are returning to our ward and will be speaking on Sunday, and I really want to be there.  Or it could be that I'm feeling the stubborn spirit inside me will come when she's ready, and no amount of walking, lunging, or yoga ball bouncing will convince her otherwise.  Though the yoga ball bouncing was actually really comfortable.  I may have to invest in one of those...

The nice thing about the forced delay (what delay?  I'm only 36 weeks pregnant!  I know, I know...) is that I've been able to get a lot of nesting done.  Last night Brett and I went through the kids toys.  When we were done, Brett rubbed his fingers together and grimaced.  "My fingers feel yucky."  Haha, yeah, their toys were kinda gross.  And I'd be happy happy to never own another Happy Meal toy again.  Psht, like that'll happen!

Brett and I are going to the temple tonight for a date.  We're even having dinner there, which gets me super excited, because I love LOVE the cafeteria food at the temple.  I'm easy to please.  I have a feeling this may be our last date night for awhile...but that's okay!  That's one thing about life, it keeps going on.  Babies are born, and then they turn into toddlers and then pretty soon they're starting kindergarten, but we won't talk about that because I can't stand crying anymore.  I can't believe my baby, MY FIRST BORN, will be officially snipping the proverbial umbilical cord and leaving me half a day everyday.  Traitor.

But maybe...

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PostIt Note Tuesday: Conclusions

In Honor of Monday

To get from my front door to my couch, you will need to trip over the following:

A pair of high heels that failed to put me into labor yesterday at church.
A satin vampire cape.
A giant turkey roasted (in box).
A bill.  An unopened bill.  My favorite kind.
A big blue IKEA bag containing everything from our mini-van. 

In order to sit on my couch, you'll need to move the following:

A collection of O'Henry short stories.
A pair of black gaucho's.
"Scarlett"
Better Homes and Gardens New Garden Book
A play ironing board.
A pair of 4T shorts.
My scriptures.
And last but not least, a play ironing board.  Oh, did I already mention that? (Seriously, why is it out here?!).

In order to wake me up from this afternoons nap, you'll risk:
Every working limb on your body.
Your beating heart.
One or both of your eyes, depending on how good my aim is.

G'Night New York!

Kelly OUT!

A few things I learned in church today:

• Get rid of fear and faith will flourish.
• You may go with a small cup, but you can ask for a bigger cup while you're there.  I did, and it worked.
• Pushing through the pain (physical, emotional, mental, whatev) is worth it.
• 3 hours is not enough.  Bring the Spirit home.
• The best way for your children to learn is by example.  I absolutely know this.
• Relief Society women make me feel beautiful.  On the outside especially, which is where it really counts.  (I kid.  I kid.)

I love what our Stake President said in Relief Society (it was Ward Conf. today).   He said he saw a direct correlation to a drop in sacrament meeting attendance with that of Relief Society attendance.  When women don't come to church, neither do their families.  That's right ladies.  We already knew it, but we're the rock.  We're the foundation.  We're the get-up-and-go that our husbands need, otherwise they would never go to church.  And our children would look like rocks caked in mud and dirt and would wear white socks with their black church shoes.  Yuck.

But he also said that our Heavenly Father knows us personally, as if we were his only child.  I...don't know what to say.  I know how much I know and love my own daughter, who is not my only child.  I know how I would do anything for her, how I love to teach her and see her grow.  Just knowing how much I love Kembry, in my mortal, temporal way, helps me know just how much my Heavenly Father knows and loves me and how he wants the best for me, just like I do for Kembry. 

And He knows you too, as if you were his only child.

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The Dreams Have Begun

You know those pregnancy dreams? The crazy ones with helium filled floating babies and infants born with tails?

I've managed to avoid them this whole pregnancy.  My mind powers are incredible.  Okay, I've just been lucky.

Last night I had some crazy wicked contractions which would wake me up mid-dream making it oh-so-convenient to remember them all.

Baby girl had teeth and creepy freaky eyes.

Baby girl weighed about 50 pounds.

Baby girl was born, and I couldn't find her, and they wouldn't bring her to me.

Baby girl could WALK two minutes after being born.  For some reason, this was freakiest.

I had to find baby girl so I could nurse, but I couldn't find her, so all my milk dried up and I was sure she was going to die from starvation.  Obviously this wasn't the 50 pound baby girl.

Anyway, hope you all had a less eventful, psycho dream filled night.

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Antoine Dodson

I don't normally hop on the YouTube band wagon and share funny videos and what not. In fact, that ranks right up there with, "Wanna see cute pictures of the ceramic kitten figurine I found at the swap meet?" Um, no, thanks. But this was hilarious. The first is the "real" news story, the second is...well...a must watch. I found this on Confessions of a Working Mom (which, for some reason, I can't add the link, but she's on my blog roll.) Enjoy.

Pitocin Please?

On my journey to induce labor, I'm realizing how much my uterus really hates me.

I used to give it a bad look, it would contract.  Kiss my husband, contract.  Read a book, contract.  Eat a brownie (mmmm, brownie) contract.

Today I walked to my BF's house: NOTHIN'!  C'mon...I think my uterus is secretly laughing at me right now.

Good news (there's always some!) I lost four pounds in one week!  That's generally a sign that labor is in sight.  And considering how much I've been eating, and man, I've been eeeeating, I'll take it as a sign.  I'll take anything.  I can't wait to meet and kiss those little knees that are sliding along inside of me right now!  So cute!

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I Need Duct Tape

Cohen went on his first adventure without us.  Or without telling us.  Or without permission.

You get my drift?

The little slug took off with his partner-in-crime, the little girl who lives next door, to go to the little girls older sisters school.  Catch all that?

To sum up, they took off and we were all frantic.  For a good 45 minutes, which is just under the time it would take to put me into labor due to stress and worry.  Shoot.

So now we have to decide: how to punish the little troll?

We took away his t.v., video games, and computer games.  That's right, our five year old dabbles in all media.  We're no respecter or time wasters.

But he had plans to go to a baseball game tomorrow night with his Papa.  I'm wondering, should we let him go?  Do we punish the old man for Cohen's big naughty?  Cohen's pretty shaken up, but he's not acting really sombre (Brett had a talk with him.  "You need to act sad, like you feel bad for what you've done."  Obviously we don't care if he really feels bad, as long as he tricks us into thinking he does!)

Anywho, what would you do, aside from duct taping him to his bed for the next 20 years?

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No News Is...Boring

Bed rest = extremely boring life = infrequent and/or boring posts.

Better nothing than boring, right?  Am I right, people?  Yes, I'm right.

Nothing much goes on in my my life glued to the couch.  Although, I did sneak away and see a movie with the BF (that's "best friend" mom, not "boyfriend").  We saw Knight and Day.  It was pretty funny, especially considering her husband is just like the hero.  Freaking hilarious.

I am being very naughty (Abbie, get ready with that twitchy eye) and have decided that I'm just going to let nature take it's course at this point.  No more drugs.  No more sitting for 10 to 12 hours a day.  Just, let it happen.  I'm at a breaking point.  18 weeks on bed rest is just not as fun as you would think.  I'm not going out of my way to get the show on the road, although I did wear high heels to church on Sunday.  I don't know what that means, but it felt like some sort of labor induction.

Plus, I really, really, really hate that terbutaline.  The twitching was comical for awhile, but now it's just annoying.  And the constant headache that came with it got old after a few weeks. 

So, that's where I am.  I'm here, on the couch, watching bad daytime t.v. missing my babies and enjoying the last few *fingers crossed* days of baby wiggles in an angry uterus.  I honestly think Baby Girl is okay with this decision.  I mean, imagine if your one bedroom apartment constantly compressed, squishing you down into a bony, small, hole every few minutes.  Pretty crappy, right?

I'm getting pretty good and justification and rationalization.  I should teach a seminar to the delusional after this =)

Kelly Down