And yes, that’s it.  Sorry.

I heard that the statistics are about 50/50 for boys being born these days (which I found quite surprising actually) so hopefully I will get a good amount of responses from both sides.  And, since I’ve changed the diapers of some of your little boys, I know that not all of my friends have made the same decision.  I think I know what The Doc and I would decide, but figure any information is helpful.

The floor is open, people.  Comment away.

But my point, people, is that I would love some ideas!  I want to know what you and your man, or woman, have done to get away.  I’m going to be a nerd and list some guidelines, or things that I would either like it to include or limitations to what we can do.  And seriously, any thoughts would be awesome!

Here goes…

1.  We live on the west coast, so something out here

2.  Under about $250 total cost (this one could be tricky).  We are planning on driving so won’t need to buy airfare.

3.  Keep in mind I am in fact 20 weeks prego so wine tasting, or sleeping on a rock somewhere might not work out so well.

4.  A not so kid friendly activity.  No Disneyland please.

5.  A place we can be a bit unplugged so that we can talk, sit and be still together

6.  Skydiving is probably gonna be out on this one, but other fun activities that would be cool to try together

7.  Romantic locale?  Extra points for anything along those lines, especially if it involves a hot tub (and yes, I will only stay in 15 minutes as not to overcook the baby within).

8.  If rural, can we get to action easily?  Might be nice to catch a movie or have a fun meal.

9.  Coffee.  Must be good coffee or the ability to make good coffee.

Okay, now I’m derailing a bit, but you get the idea.  So bring it, I can’t wait to hear from you.  (and by that I mean please don’t have the comments be empty when I check back in a couple of hours )

In the midst of the crazy life that is mothering two little ladies, I sometimes forget the coolness that is being pregnant.  No, not the raging heartburn, back pain, or aching legs, but the coolness that is knowing there is a sweet little person growing inside my belly.  A new creation, a new life that will soon be part of our family!  A year from now I won’t be able to remember what life was like before this person was around and he or she will already be such a part of who we are and what we do.  I have no idea if this little one will be a fussy baby or not, boy or girl, or even look like the girls.  What I do know is that he/she will be loved.  That what felt like a family before with our foursome will now feel incomplete without this little person.  I can’t wait.

And so yes, I am finding that my love for this little baby is growing by leaps and bounds daily.  It makes me so eager to meet this little one, not just because I am over being pregnant, but because it is difficult to give ample kisses and squeezes through my belly.  (believe me, the girls have tried).  These kids, who sometimes test the limits of our sanity, truly are a blessing beyond anything else.  However they enter our lives, adoption, birth, or even a neighbor’s kid who  feels like she is your own, they teach us and show us things that never would have been possible otherwise.  I find that if I look at the things that most moms (me included) complain about regarding motherhood, about 99% of the complaints have nothing to do with our children at all.  They are simply a reflection of what happens when we don’t get what we want, are challenged to do things that are hard or make us feel uncomfortable, or are inconvenienced (sometimes in MAJOR ways).  But in life, let’s be honest, we don’t really ever grow or change without going through events that force us to go through the above.  Our plans get ruined and so we learn to be more flexible.  There isn’t enough to eat and so we have to share our lunch.  Without these moments of forced humility and redirection we would all be lost in our self-centeredness.  (it’s a big struggle for most of the world even with these issues).

All of this to say, I am starting to look at the things that drive me nuts in this season of motherhood and to see the beauty of what I’m learning.  I’m being changed, reshaped, broken down and hopefully rather than coming out shriveled up and bitter on the other end, I will come out more of the person that in all honesty I’d like to be.  I’m learning to love my children not only for what they add to my life, but for what they seem to take away.  For the changes they force me to make and for the incredible ways that God himself uses them to make me more into the creation he desires.  I think I am finally understanding the depth and meaning of the phrase “children are a gift from God.”  It isn’t all cute bunsies and little toes.  It’s the poop, the crying, the sore nipples, the refusal to take a bottle, the wet pants in the middle of aisle 5 when you don’t have a spare, the inability to find anytime to um “be” with your husband, the times you watch your childless friends climb the ladder in your career when you are stuck behind, or those same friends post pics on facebook of themselves in exotic locations holding fruity drinks with umbrellas, and even the hour long tantrums caused by a cracker that broke in half.  It is the whole enchilada people.  And just like with anything new or hard in life, our nature is to fight it and to fight hard.  But, if we continue to battle against it, we are truly going to miss out on something even better.  That’s what I’m hoping for not only while mothering small children, but throughout life.  I don’t want to be so afraid or annoyed by something that I am unable to learn.  Being teachable is a gift that most of us are lacking.  We want to know everything first, better, and will even lie rather than look uninformed.  How sad!  Learning and being able to admit when we are in need of knowledge is a good, good thing.  If we don’t feel we have anything to gain or that we are already so full of wisdom that we are all set we are definitely in trouble.

Do you find yourself fighting the change or using the difficult parts of motherhood as a way to complain and point fingers at your children/huband/mother/neighbor/or innocent mom at Target?  I bet if you take a deeper look you might realize that it doesn’t have anything to do with them.  This may be an opportunity for you to grow in ways you never desired, but seriously, will be so well worth it in the end.  So, drink it in.  Love your babies for their sweetness and their bitterness knowing that they truly come as a package deal.  Maybe this gift isn’t quite what you had expected, but that’s okay.  It’s better than okay.  Instead of asking each other only what our kids are doing to drive us nuts, we could ask each other what we are learning while our sanity is being tested.  What do you think?  I’m game, are you?

I’m gonna love my babies and be grateful that because of their sweet presence in my life I will never, ever be the same.

Through job searches, school applications and years of training

Through long hair, short hair, and one shaved head

Through four states and six cities

Through teens, twenties and the start of our thirties

Through dreams and cancelled plans

Through unexpected (but happily welcomed) bright pink lines that showed up in a far away place

Through a right side up baby that changed our plans

Through sleepless nights and endless nights awake for the love of that baby

Through graduations and new beginnings

Through changing and aging bodies

Through nursing, pregnancy and childbirth glamour

Through my moods and drama

Through birthdays and anniversaries

Through labor and LOTS of pushing

Through sharing me with our two little girls

Through choosing his family over career

Through loving and cheering my choice to WORK at home with our family

Through a third new life that we can’t wait to meet

Through my high maintenance days

Through my need for snacks and good, strong coffee

Through my frequent wakings to go to the bathroom during the night

Through my super stylish now necessary support stockings and the veins they conceal

Through my insecurities and shortcomings

Through it all, time and time again

He loves me.

And for that I am forever grateful.

So to my Doc, on our 9th wedding anniversary (yesterday because I’m a slacker) I say right back at you.  Thank you for loving me through it all.

(while eating her lunch)

BQ:  ”Mommy, you’re perfect for me.”

Me:  ”What sweetie?” (seriously, my hearing these days is mediocre at best)

BQ:  ”Moooooom-mmmmmmmy (slightly annoyed at my deafness and for emphasis) you are perrrrrrrrrrrrrr-fect for me.”

Me:  ”That sounds sweet honey.  What do you mean?”  (yes, I’m lame and want to know what exactly is churning behind the phrase inside her mind).

BQ:  ”Well, you make me food and do things for me.  You take care of me.  You’re perfect for me.”

Me:  (a little misty)  ”Thanks cutie.  You’re pretty perfect for me too.”

Love that girl!!

So this same sun, that I love, stays out until around 9:30 here which is probably wonderful if you are single or without children and can be out and about to enjoy it.  The problem for me though is that it tends to mess with the minds of my children.  Children who have been trained to go to sleep at bedtime, stay in their beds and room after we leave, and to generally obey the bedtime routine.  These children have been lured away from their beds by the tantalizing bits of sunlight that sneak into their room through the two layers of window treatments in their room.  And in a room where the only toys are books and some necklaces, have found ways to get into just about anything not nailed down at bedtime.  Things like pushing buttons on alarm clocks, unplugging the nighlight, and banging one’s feet on the closet doors are favorite pastimes.  All of this leaves this momma at a loss.  Tonight I had to resort to taking Mr. Bear for the first time.  Never heard of him?  Well, just picture that lovey or blankie that your child simply cannot sleep/live without.  The item that in case of a fire you would most likely reach for first, knowing that you could survive the loss of many a possession, but possibly not he loss of a precious lovey (especially when you don’t by two and rotate them from the get go rendering you completely stuck and dependent on that one ragged, chewed up, stuffing falling out of every orifice bear).  But I was fearless and desperate tonight and so he had to go.  And you know what?  She went to sleep.  No screaming, no ultimate freak out, no up for hours begging for Mr. Bear’s return.  Checkmate.  Unfortunately, I fear that if my Mr. Bear leverage has been lost, things might get ugly.  That Molé is one spicy meatball.  Or little girl.

Alas, bedtime is bedtime in our house.  You will not catch my children up at 10 pm watching movies or playing because they “are not tired.”  You don’t need Motherhood 101 to know that that is child talk for “hmm, what can I try so that I can avoid bedtime and party.”  I’m gonna stay tough, people, tough I tell you.  Mr. Bears, Lambies and Bunny Bears of the world be warned:  it could be the cold empty couch for you.  I don’t know what methods you might need to use, but feel free to be bold.  Desperate times call for desperate measures and your cozy bed spot is at stake.  (perhaps calling on the aid of stuffed animals is a bit too desperate?)

At any rate, I would really like to continue my love affair with Mr. Sun without our romance being tainted by the nightowls in the next room.  So if another battle ensues tomorrow night I will be ready.  Armed with the ability to take away privileges, remove stuffed animal friends, and some kick butt mommy skills that would make even the sassiest of toddlers stay glued under the covers.  Bring it on, Mr. Sun.  Bring the heat outside and make no mistake I will be bringing it on the inside.

In other news,the girls have been ridiculously cute lately and have taken the bff concept to new levels that even a heart-shaped necklace, one side reading be fri and the other st end, could not touch.  Obnoxious an hour after bedtime when they are still giggling, yes, but so beyond cute that who could really be that mad, of course.  Love when they love each other.

My belly continues to grow and if I were able to get my tush in gear I would find a new doctor and figure out just who this little person is.  I have no intuition or “feelings” regarding boy or girl, though many around me say that they do.  Love it.  Maybe I should get a little pool going…or not.  Whatever, it’ll be awesome regardless.

Well, that is seriously all I have.  Here’s hoping I stop slacking and get this blog going again.  Until then, here’s hoping the little people in your house are more cute than cranky, your husband comes home early from work tonight, and that your weekend is filled with long, restful sleep.  Happy mothering!

I have been trying to talk with BQ throughout the process about what is happening and have asked her what she is feeling about the move.  In all honesty, she seems fine.  The only sign that something is amiss has shown up in the form of wet sheets in the middle of the night.  (sigh).  Otherwise, she is doing so well I cannot help but stand back a bit amazed.  Molé on the other hand is struggling.  My sweet girl has been clingy, weepy, and unpredictable.  This morning after the girls had their first swim lessons, she was so distraught that I had to wrap her up in a towel in the locker room and sing to her for a good ten minutes.  It might not sound odd, but this is something that I never do for her (and no it isn’t because I’m a cold hearted snake, it is because she isn’t into it and would much rather “do my self.”).  Even sweet BQ sang a round of Twinkle Twinkle followed by a rousing rendition of ABC’s.  That BQ is just delicious.

Anyway, watching my little girl grieve and process this huge change has made me think about my own grief process.  So far, I think it has been a bit non-existent.  I was so ready to just get on with the move after waiting a year.  That’s right, we found out last June that we would be moving and then had another year to dig in and live where we were.  I have been so fixated on the details and just getting it all done, that I haven’t really had a chance to sit down and think about the people I will miss or all that those three years back east meant to me and our family.  Are there wet nights ahead for me?  Perhaps, but I’m hoping for maybe a good cry with my mom instead because the laundry really isn’t any fun.   At any rate, I figure if leaving isn’t a bit hard, what was the point and while I have no desire to live on the east coast again, there are some dear, dear friends who will definitely lure me back for a visit someday.

So more process.  And more opportunities for great joys along the way.  Sounds good to me.