Daily Five

*We've officially moved our home office into the basement to make way for a new bedroom! It has been painted but is awaiting the chair rail before we can officially move the crib, etc. in. This is making me see how close it's getting! I'm ready to get set up and feel organized.

*I had my 28 week doctor appointment today--fingers crossed that I will NOT have gestational diabetes. I haven't in the past but am more nervous this time around for some reason. The doctor asked how everything was going and I said I feel great aside from the "circus freak" feeling I am getting more and more frequently when people find out my due date. I know, you are tired of hearing it. I'm working on not caring. I am moving from not getting upset about it to trying to come up with more clever retorts to surprise people.
*Quote of the day from the carpet cleaning guy:
He: "So when you due?"
Me: December {my friend says I should just say "late fall" like the celebrites do. Keep it vague, don't really let them know when exactly you're due. I might try that.}
He: "Oh, he's gonna be a BIG ONE cuz I thought you was 9 months already, I thought you was about ready to DROP!"
Me: "Yeah, I get that a lot."

I'm pretty sure if he wasn't trying to stay all professional, being on the job and all, he would have added a DAMN, GIRL! to the end of that, but I was spared.

I guess it's really not upsetting me terribly, I'm starting to be able to see it as sort of funny. The doctor says I'm only measuring about a week ahead, I think it's just the way I carry and of course, being the third, they {you know, the proverbial they} say you get bigger each time.

*Quote of the day from Luke while he and I ate dinner together:
He: "How can you eat so fast?"
Me: "Because I stay focused on eating, unlike you who is very distracted while you eat."
He: "You're like in a hot dog race when you eat dinner."

Yowza. It is true I'm hungrier than normal, but being accused of eating like I'm in a hot dog race by a 6 year old? That stings.

*I made 10 loaves of zucchini bread and froze most of it. I also tried my hand at salsa. I must note that neither the zucchini or the tomatoes came from my own garden because I can't seem to grow a damn thing.

*Does anyone else avoid making eye contact with any animals that are on the livestock truck that pulls up next to you at the light? I mean, I like the bacon and ham, but I really don't want to look those pigs in their sad, sad eyes as they are on their way to market. Every time I do I wonder if I should become a vegetarian for the guilt I feel.

On the topic of stupidity...

Thank you all for your words of support and endorsement of my new "baby got back" from my earlier post. My cry out for sympathy garnered more comments (5!) than my lil' ol blog has ever received so that was fun. {Even one comment from someone I couldn't identify! Wow, I've made it big time now, huh?}

Now that I've embarked on my third trimester, I expect the comments to begin escalating. Here's my comment for yesterday as I checked out at the grocery:
Her: "You look uncomfortable."
Me: "Do I?" (I quickly do a self inventory of my current expression. Was I grimacing? Limping? Holding my belly up with my hands like a halter strap? Nope, none of those. In fact, I was feeling quite spry on my feet at the moment. Apparently I didn't look spry.)
Her: "Oh, I guess I'm just remembering being pregnant, I had three. You never forget!"
Me: "Yeah, I still have some time to get uncomfortable. I'm not there yet."

So, back to the topic of stupidity. Listen, I will never claim that I am very in tune with my body. Unlike my mother, who notices if she grew two extra arm hairs overnight, or my sister, who claims she can feel the ovulation process every month, this apple fell far from that there tree. I assume if something was massively wrong I would realize it, but I'm not counting on myself to find it fast.

So, on that note, as I lay in bed this morning during the a.m. baby black belt training, I got to thinking. You know those stories that crop up on the news once a year or so, about a woman who goes to the hospital claiming intense abdominal pain, and then GASP she gives birth without even realizing she was pregnant?

What?

I'm sorry, but how is this actually possible? Even if you don't notice the heartburn, weight gain, achy sides or constipation, can you honestly NOT feel anything moving around INSIDE your own body? This would have to be the one thing I really couldn't write off. Hmm, I'm not sure doctor, I have a hard time pooping, I am going through Tums like chewing gum, and I've gained 25 pounds, but naturally, that's of no concern to me. I am, however, feeling a small creature leap and tumble inside of me. Any thoughts on that?

Whew. But, in the words of a wise sage, "All of us are different, silly mom!" And I guess that's what makes the world so interesting.

The wisdom of children

This year, Luke has a classmate who has Downs Syndrome in his class. The special education teacher asked me when I was subbing as an aide last week if he'd mentioned anything about her, which I said, he had not. She had a talk with the class to help articulate how sometimes people are different than us, but that is ok, as the teacher had mentioned that some of the kindergarteners would just look at her as if trying to figure out what exactly was "different" about her.

So, the other day I asked Luke if there was anyone in his class that he thought was "different" from him, just to see if he'd even noticed, and his response was, "All of us are different, silly mom!"

Priceless. I couldn't have said it better myself. If only we adults accepted others that are "different" from us in such stride the world would be a much simpler place, wouldn't it?

Did she really just say that?

It's fair to say that now that I'm just a few days away from entering my third trimester, I'm feeling a bit large. Especially since I started this pregnancy 25 pounds heavier than I started my first, it would probably be unrealistic to think I'd feel smallish this time around.

So I'm saying I'm a little sensitive to it. I'm already feeling a bit whale-ish, so when certain things are said, they tend to rub me the wrong way. And I have to say, this next encounter was a whopper.

A woman who was shopping our garage sale actually asked me,
Her: "So, there's only one in there?"
Me: Blank face. "Yeah."
Her: "Oh, because I had twins, and you are bigger than I was."
Me: "I guess I just get big."

Really? "I guess I just get big?" That was honestly the best thing I could come up with to someone who said something that rude to me? WHY don't we ever think of the great comebacks until later? Like,
You must be really proud! Or,
WOW! That's the rudest thing anyone has said to me so far! Or,
No, I won't take 50 cents for that shirt like I said I would you cheap bastard, it's Gap! Now get the hell outta here! Or,
I could have just punched her in the face. Anything but, "I guess I just get big."

Alright. I got it out of my system now. Deep breath. But honestly? This woman has admittedly been pregnant herself so she should probably know better, right? Maybe coming from a man who doesn't know what it feels like to be pregnant and feel huge, but a woman? Shame on her.

Here's a picture of my twin pregnant looking self right here, you asked for it Allie:

I look awfully constipated here. Wait, I'm pregnant so I might actually be constipated here.

Book Review

The last two books I've read have been memoirs written by men. They both were incredibly honest and both were men who've had many experiences in life, some of them quite intense, but nonetheless lifechanging experiences that turned them into who they are today. I found them completely intriguing and truly appreciated their willingness to be incredibly vulnerable and expose their weaknesses. I would recommend both as good reads and both have inspired me to continue my hunger for memoirs lately. I haven't read a memoir in the last  year that disappointed. Of course, none of the memoirs I've read are by famous people which seem to be saturating the bookshelves nowadays, so it's quite possible the honesty and vulnerability I've grown to love about memoirs might be sorely lacking in that bunch.

My Friend Leonard

The Tender Bar

Daily Five

*Well, the honeymoon is over in terms of information I get by the 2nd week of school. We were suspicious that the daily answers were becoming scripted, and proved that theory right when Rob came home from work on Labor day and asked the boys how school was. Luke said, Awesome! It was great. Jack said, Good! So think anyone is really listening to that question and answering it with meaning anymore? I think not!

*I'm suffering  a beastly cold which is really knocking me to the curb. Being pregnant and having a cold are both entities of their own and combining them both is fierce.

*I received great personal satisfaction today baking my own French loaves of bread. Kneading the dough, watching it rise and smelling it bake-heavenly. And, the finished product looked and tasted just like you buy in the stores. Worth the two hours from start to finish.

*I'm preparing to add in to a friend's garage sale on Saturday. I have found that I am extremely emotionally attached to the kids baby/toddler clothing and this has been a difficult parting process. This really shouldn't be a surprise since I have a hard time parting with things in general/letting go of the past, but every piece I fold and slap a 50 cent price tag on is paining me as I wrestle with memories of my little boy in that piece of clothing. It's just clothing, let it go.... my realistic side tells me that when they grow up and get married, their wives are not going to be excited with my handing over a tote full of their clothes from their youth so no need to save much. But still..... my heart be still.

*On a final note, speaking of pregnancy, the size and strength of this little gal is astounding. You have to agree, she must be a pretty tough cookie to have made it this far. This proves itself daily with moves like:

I'm getting the living hell kicked out of me regularly. It's not like a gradual slow stretch where it feels like an elbow here or there, it's like a full on tai kwon do move where my stomach actually vibrates with the movement. And it's over and over again. My friend Liz insists it must be a preparation to be a little sister to two big brothers. Getting a little self defense on. You go girl. Just take it easy around 5:30 a.m. every day. Mama's still tired.



Man: Zero, Garden: One

As I walked trudged up to the garden this weekend with my camera, Rob yelled after me, I can just see your post headline now! I guess the man knows me by now. In the spirit of Man Vs. Food, this was the most fitting title I could come up with. The garden has beat me. It has won and I've so been defeated.

Approaching the natural disaster area

This is what it looks like when you look down at the ground.

Self portrait entitled "Me and six feet weeds"

I am sad to say I got little to no joy from this garden this year. We are about 2 seconds from mowing over the whole damn thing. I really don't know where I went wrong. It's true I did little to no weeding from July on, and it didn't help that we were gone almost two weeks in the middle of the July, but seriously? Would you think the weeks would have grown this thick? We can't even FIND our rows of potatoes. Rob has to take the shovel and whack the weeds away like a machete in the area that we knew they were in and then just dig and hope. And yes, we got over an ice cream pail full of potatoes. But that was for the whole row. And the snow peas? About 10. Green beans? One serving with dinner. Cucumbers? 3 plants of the 4 eaten by deer before they even grew big. 4 cherry tomatoes, 2 plum tomatoes. There are carrots and small onions in there somewhere but it will take some weed whacking to find them. The onions are small, of course, because no sunlight can get through the mass canopy of weeds covering them. 

It's not like I would have been that disappointed if I didn't get enough to freeze or can. But I really didn't even get enough to justify the time and money and energy a garden requires just to plant it. I'm really not sure what I'm doing wrong. Is it my soil? Sun? Are the deer just too much to fight? Is it all worth it?

I had such vim and vigor when I started this whole gardening thing last summer but now, I just don't know. It probably doesn't help that my memories of gardens are from my grandparents where the sky seemed to be the limit to how much they could grow. I only wish they were still here to ask them how they did it. Aargh! I'm down and out! Next time you see me, just throw a tomato or zucchini my way.  

Just don't tell me that you grew it yourself or I might kick you in the shins.

Hoping for a problem, wishing for Christmas, and Spanish chicken nuggets

Today's post is just going to be a brain vomit of all that's on my mind. How's that treat you?

Yesterday it was so hot they dismissed the kids early. {However football practice still went on as normal. How does it make sense for it to be too hot for kids to sit in a classroom with fans, but it's not too hot to physically exert yourself in the sun?} But, my son does not play football so alas, it's not my problem. So while the temperatures soared to nearly 100, my children danced and frolicked in the family room to "It's Beginning to Look a Lot Like Christmas" and "Santa Claus is Coming to Town". Why? Because every time we go to the library Luke checks out Christmas CD's regardless of what time of year it is. Meanwhile, I made pretzels dipped in white chocolate. Doesn't that seem Christmassy too? Why? Why are certain foods only associated with Christmas? All coincidence I might add, I was just using up some white chocolate from last Christmas. Anyway, I have to say the talk of rosy cheeks and warming up by the fire got me in the mood for Christmas.

I run through my usual after school questions each day after I pick the boys up, and I asked Luke yesterday what was for lunch, one of my standard questions intended to provoke conversation, and he said, "I think it was that chicken nugget spanish food. Intrigued, I checked the lunch menu, and it was (chinese) orange chicken.

We came home from another weekend away last weekend {last long trip till post baby-yee hah!) to a freezer which had conveniently stopped freezing. Thankfully, the fridge still worked. Until morning, when it didn't work. We lost 3 garbage bags full of food. I hate wasting food almost as much as the music of George Thoroughgood or the sound of silverware dropping off plates and hitting the floor. I has to mentally block the cash register chaching noise of the value of each item as I dropped it in the garbage. Almost full mayonnaise jars, ranch dressing, 47 rarely used but necessary condiments. Coffee creamers and spagetti sauces. Salsas and yogurts, salmon filets, Lean Cuisines. Dump dump dump. It pained me.

The refrigerator repairman couldn't get here until today, so we've been getting by thanks to my $10 garage sale buy extra fridge. I tell everyone that story about how I found it at a garage sale, and not only was it only $10 but that money all went to charity, so it was basically free. It's about 179 years old but it keeps our drinks incredibly cold with all of it's mustard green yellow marvelousness that is the extra fridge. So I got my full gag on and cleaned out the fridge like it's never been cleaned awaiting the repairmen, who came today, and plugged it back in and it was working fine. AWESOME! I just paid him $90 to replug it in and find no problem! Don't you love it when that  happens? So now, we get to let it get back to temperature, put food back in, and hope it doesn't happen again anytime in the relatively near future. Isn't it sad when you are wishing he'd find a problem rather than no problems? Aargh!

Brain dump complete. I feel much better now.