My First Yarn Along!

I'm playing along with Small Things Yarn Along! Enjoy!

The book is read each afternoon as part of my own "rest time." While Pillbug snoozes away upstairs, the boys are required (yes, required! I'm SO. MEAN.) to watch a video. During that time I get to rest and do my quiet time. This book is taking me through Galations and is focusing on our freedom in Christ. So far, I have gained a lot of insight from it.

My current yarn project is a dish cloth. These are so simple to make and are really the best. ones. ever. I need a whole new set. Slowly, but surely I'm getting there!

Ouch, My Uterus

Look away boys. What follows is a post solely focused on my uterus. You have been warned.

Back in May (yes, I know. I have been keeping secrets from the Internets) I started having periodic bleeding. It was crazy - no rhyme or reason. Sometimes it would be heavy. Other times just spotting. At times I would have this for a couple of days, or five days, then a day or three off. The bleeding always came back, though. I figured this was just my body's freakish way of adjusting to Pillbug beginning to wean. But, at the one month mark of this happening I decided enough was enough. I called my midwife.

I went in and had the normal exam along with a lot of discussion on what was happening throughout the month. She listened and offered two follow-up things for me to do: have an ultrasound to rule out "things" and start a round of hormones (not birth control but similar hormones to get my body on track). I was nervous about the hormones. Fake hormones, in the past, have sent me in a downward spiral with regards to my depression and I just didn't want to go there again. I knew I needed to do something, though, and so I agreed to try it for three months. I went in about two weeks later for the ultrasound and had already started the first round of hormones. Two days after the ultrasound I got The Call. As soon as I heard my midwife's voice I thought I was doomed. Cancer, I thought. I have cancer.

Turns out it is a polyp or possibly a fibroid tumor. The surgeon I met with gave me the option of leaving it in (I said no thanks) and he feels confident that there is nothing to worry about (he didn't even mention the 'c' word). So, in November I'll have a little procedure to remove this alien that has taken up presence in my uterus. It should just be a simple out patient procedure with me up and going as soon as I'm out of the stirrups.

The other day, though, I had to get a shot to "prep my uterus." (I don't know, either, just go with it like I did . . . nodding and making it look like I understood the words leaving my surgeon's mouth.) I have a little, ahem, thing with shots. Like, I can sometimes faint. Only sometimes. Really not that often. But it does happen. Sometimes. But, Ben was busy the day I needed to go in and I wasn't really thinking it was going to be a big deal and so I dropped my boys with a friend and Pillbug and I drove out to the doctor's office. Upon arrival, I found out it was a shot to be given in the buttocks, in a small curtained off area, with only a chair to sit in (so, apparently I will be standing?!). Everything happened so quickly that I didn't really have time to react, though, which was probably just what I needed. Pillbug was trying to touch the freshly alcohol-swiped area and I was trying to keep my bum from being exposed to whomever was walking down the hall. Before I knew it, I had been poked and it was over. We packed up and went out to the car.

I don't know if it was a bit of adrenaline or if the shot just didn't have an effect until a bit later, but once I sat down in the car, it felt like my leg was going to fall off. All through lunch I just wanted to lie down (not really a possibility with the children here!), but instead I mustered through. By that evening I felt a bit better and all the pain was gone the next day. It was weird, is all I'm saying.

Now, apparently, my uterus is prepped and I'm ready to be scraped and whatever else to which I nodded my head. Good thing is the "prepping" means no actual period between now and the surgery . . . now if only the spotting would stop!

And so ends my post of which the male audience may not wish to read.

A Quick Check-In

I haven't disappeared. My mom came for a visit and life was rather busy with her here - busy in a very good way! We had fun at OMSI, exploring the tide pools at the beach, and going for walks. Of course, we went to The Cheesecake Factory (a little tradition we have going on) and shopping. Mom bought us a butter bell to keep our homemade goodness a bit fresher and a laundry system (to sort clothes as we take them off, instead of my previous system which was put them all into one bin).

I was delighted with these gifts.

Am I a grown-up or what?

Thanks for a wonderful visit, Mama!

Weekend Sewing

This past weekend, I found myself with a bit of time on my hands AND a sewing project started (and by "started" I mean I had the main four pieces cut). When the stars align, one simply cannot push them aside, so I started sewing.



I started a bit before this with the cutting of the fabric. Other than that, it was just following the directions (fold this seam, sew, pin these together, sew, etc) and viola! Here's the final product (a dress for Pillbug):









I'm not kidding about how easy this project was. I am an amatuer sewer at best and I had absolutely no problem with this pattern. It came from a great book I splurged on one weekend called Making Children's Clothes by Emma Hardy. I fell in love with this book the instant I picked it up. It has great ideas and requires very little previous knowledge in sewing. I hope I can make more projects from this book soon, if only those darn stars align again!

In Which I Share Too Much About My Feet

I have issues with my feet. I am currently seeking out a support group for my feet. Let me know if you hear of a good one.

I remember as a kid HATING my feet. I was embarassed to wear flip-flops. I don't think I owned a pair of shoes that showed my feet until I was in college. I had to make a conscious decision to Stop. Hating. My. Feet. FortheloveofGod. The reason eludes me now. Maybe my toes were too stubby. Maybe the sides of my feet hung over every pair of sandals I ever tried on. . . who knows.

In college, I remember realizing that my feet weren't all that bad. Sure, they were wider than the average foot, but all in all, not too shabby. I started buying flip flops and I even got a pair of Birkenstocks (shut up - they were cool). I even painted my toenails.

Then I had a kid (and another, and another) and we moved to Oregon (is this a reason why? I'm not sure) and I began to have new foot-issues. You see, I have extremely dry skin. I use lotion like no one's business and still, my dryness persists. However, until a few years ago, I don't ever remember my feet suffering from this. Summers have turned into torture for my feet. They get so dry, they peel, they crack open, they are pretty much a pain in my arse.

For a while now, I have been treating this with lotion and socks at night and not wearing my sandals as much. This system has worked okay. It keeps the awful cracking at bay for the most part. Then, a couple of weeks ago, I noticed a spot on the ball of my foot that hurt with every step. I just ignored it, thinking it would eventually heal (it was probably just a cracked spot anyway, I thought). It hadn't gone away and last night, I decided it was time to inspect the buggar. Turns out there is a planar wart hanging out down there. Awesome. I now am hobbling around with an apple-cider-vinegar-soaked cotton ball bandaided to the ball of my foot in hopes that the acid will take care of it. The Internets tell me that this method will take around three weeks, but is less painful than having it cut or frozen and is a more permanent solution. Because, apparently, these things are prone to inviting friends. Awesome.

Don't worry. I'll keep you posted on how this treatment works and whether or not I can regain a love for my feet.

Tuesday Nights Revive My Soul

Each Tuesday evening I can be found (or can be found wanting to be) at my friend A's house for a few hours. She hosts a "Craft Night." At times there is a little bit of talking and a good deal of knitting/crocheting/whatever-ing. While at other times there is only talking, wine, and chocolate. One never knows what the night will hold beyond good company, freedom to just be, and a lifted spirit at the end. Tuesday evenings have become a sanctuary for me.

Thank you, A, for making your house available, allowing us to laugh loudly, talk too much, craft too little, and stay too late each Tuesday evening. The time there revives me for the remainder of the week!

Last night we spent much time talking to a new(er) friend about our milk choice. I haven't blogged about this yet, but, well, we've gone raw. (Are you keeping a list? I now make my own deodorant, wash my hair with baking soda and vinegar, AND drink raw milk. It's official - I'm a hippie). We pay $5 per half gallon and get milk that was in the cow less than 12 hours previous to us taking our first drink. It is a beautiful thing for me. I love having a connection with a local farmer, making a sustainable choice for our milk, and knowing the cow from which we are consuming milk. So, our newer friend was intrigued (maybe a bit disgusted at first), but took the plunge, tried the milk, and declared, "Oh! It tastes just like milk!" I guffawed heartily and we moved on. It was fun introducing someone to the choice my family has made in a non-judgmental (hopefully!) way. There was no request for her to join us in getting the milk. We didn't talk her to death about the health benefits and/or the way our milk industry treats milking cows and/or the benefits to buying local. The three of us present who are buying the raw milk could have gone on for hours on these topics. But we didn't and I think that is what begins the process of good communication regarding these issues: Talking all friendly-like about the choices my family has made and accepting and communicating that not all families can or should make those same choices.

So, yeah, Tuesday nights rock. And buy local (when possible).

To Bake Bread or Cookies . . .

Tonight, I chose the cookies.

Yesterday was a weird day. When people asked, I answered that it was good (after all, it was Mother's Day), and really, I didn't have much to complain about. Ben made me breakfast (a super yummy omelet with spinach, onion, pepper, and aged cheddar. mmmmmmmm), the kiddos got me a gorgeous hanging basket, and Treefrog made me a very cute plate in his pre-k. It was fine. Really.

Except, it wasn't.

Ben and I went to service for the first time in 2 (3?) months. We were out of town every weekend in March, I taught or helped in the third grade class throughout April, and then check outs happened. We were busy, is all I'm sayin'. Rewind to the previous times I had been to church. . . I had never once felt lacking in our service. I had never felt disconnected from those around me. I had never had the desire to stand up and scream about the lack of participation in the service. Never.

Until yesterday.

I sat in service and was struck by how I felt like I was watching a performance. I was put off by the people singing, or more like whispering, around me. I felt as though I was disconnected from those sitting in front, behind, and beside me. It put me in such a funk. I was restless. I was angry. I couldn't engage in the happenings, no matter how much I prayed for a connection.

Two months and the gathering that I have become a part of on Sunday evenings has completely flipped my world upside down without my knowledge. I was completely unprepared to realize that my church, my connection with other worshipers, the time where I feel I bring forth my gifts and offer them to God alongside others, was usurped by a gathering that, a year ago, I would have said I wouldn't have a place in.

I am still processing this - with Ben, with God, apparently here. I know I will be okay with this eventually. I think I will need to allow myself some time to mourn this loss. Does that sound silly?

I'm Not Sure

I don't know if I'm back or not. My days are filled to the brim right now with this new little one who I have lovingly dubbed Pillbug for the blog-o-sphere. Pillbug turned our world upside down on June 1, a mere 34 minutes past her big brother Fish's birthday (and, incidentally, my friend J's birthday!). Since that day I have been enamored with her ways. She has a personality all her own that is really nothing like her older brothers'. Treefrog and Fish love having a baby to call their sister. And, I'm pretty sure Ben has completely lost his heart to her. My family is so sweet. I am utterly blessed by these beings in my life.

Today ended hard (my "day" is over when Ben gets home - then it is evening), so Ben escaped with the kids for a while to give me some quiet just before deciding that we needed a night out for dinner. So, in a few short minutes, I'll put away my computer and grab all the gear that we need to tote a baby girl around and we'll go somewhere that I will not have to cook the food or clean the dishes. And I will feel blessed even more to have that choice.

Tomorrow I will wake up and the laundry will still be here (oh, the cloth diapers!), the kids will still be at very different stages of needs, and Ben will still need to go to work for the day, but I will be refreshed. These few minutes of quiet (especially when paired with a dinner out!) are so rejuvenating these days. Maybe when this feeling of being refreshed isn't so illusive, I'll promise to post more often:)

Avoiding Posting

I was talking late one night recently with my friend J. Well, it was 8:30 - that's still pretty late for us pregos! I was sitting amongst a pile of clothing, folding, sorting and the like and we were laughing. Laughing at the fact that this last pregnancy for both of us has hit hard . . . She is homebound, trying to keep her sanity and her health in tact, and I am done not being the Mama I want to be. We laughed at what this has done to our attitudes (namely we have both become grumble-monsters) and we shared the small spots where we have been finding inspiration. J has been faithful at posting on her blog about the good things each day: yummy foods she has concocted, fun times with her three kiddos out of utero, the good things about her changing body, etc. I, on the other hand, have found solace in reading other's perspectives of the good (J's, Outnumbered, and especially the ever-inspiring SouleMama). The phone call was relatively short for us (we've been known to talk MUCH longer), but it filled a spot that I didn't realize was needed.

I love having this pregnancy be shared with someone else. We are a mere two weeks apart (Lucky Duck J is two weeks ahead of me!!). Way back August, I can remember standing in J's business and laughing at how fun it would be to be pregnant together. Then it happened:) Though is has been a rough pregnancy for both of us and maybe not as blissful of a thing to share as we thought, the other night's phone call so reminded me of that happiness of sharing in this together. Of feeling the other's morning sickness. Of knowing just why she reacted to her hubby like that (cause I did earlier in the day as well). And of understanding that while this isn't the best moment in parenting for either of us, it is still a moment from which we can find encouragement.

So, while J continues to post regularly about the good things in her life, I will probably continue to post irregularly. I will however, remain a faithful reader of those who bring me inspiration to hang on to the good of each day!

Sick Day; Plus: A Hippie Update!

Yesterday, I woke up feeling awful. Two nights in a row of little sleep (thank you, pregnant body for making it sooooo comfortable to sleep) plus caring for a sick Fish meant a Mama who was ready for a day off. Alas, that was not to be. So, I plugged through the day. It was definitely not my shining moment in parenthood. Poor Treefrog was constantly being told to go outside and play (granted, it was a gorgeous day and he should have been outside anyway!), and Fish was also feeling neglected as I was not in the mood to hold him as much as he wanted. Sick Fish = Clingy Fish = Cranky Mama.

Today is Ben's day to feel yucky. Treefrog was up four times last night (Ben took the first two shifts and I took the last two shifts). He slept in until 8, but that meant that Fish was up at the same time. Ben likes to start the mornings a little slower than Fish does, so he started out with a strike against him. Both boys are feeling pretty good today, so that meant a lot of energy being displayed right off the bat (strike number two). And the final strike? Me springing wanting to go to story time at our local coffee shop. Ben obliged, but the crankiness continues. To hopefully combat his mood, he is now at the seminary he attends "working." I assume he will work, but will also take some time for himself - which is not only needed, but warranted as well!!!

Hippie Update:
In my continued spurt of finding my inner-hippie, I have decided to go "no-poo" due to the fact that my hair is drying out from this hormonal pregnancy. Also, I just finished making my own facial cleanser. The jury is still out on the no-poo and facial cleanser, but I just got out of the shower having used a baking soda wash and vinegar rinse on my hair and homemade facial cleanser, and then applied my homemade deodorant and I have never felt more hippie-ish in my life. Here's to a squeaky clean hippie (is that possible?!)!!

Sometimes My Inner-Hippie Comes Out

I guess it is confession time. I have had an inner desire since my college days to be a full-fledged hippie. On several occasions I have researched/desired putting my hair into dreadlocks. I would love to repurpose my clothing instead of buying new. I have gone without shampooing my hair for six weeks (when I hiked in Wyoming with the CCO). I currently am in a bread co-op where all of the bread we consume is homemade and organic. I would love to feed myself and our children only raw cow's milk, raw cheese, and allow that nothing processed by anyone other than me cross our lips.

All this leads me to my latest venture into discovering/achieving my hippie-dome: Deodorant making. For some time now I have been using Tom's of Maine deodorant (unscented if anyone cares). With this latest pregnancy I have noted a definite increase in the smell generated by my body. Night sweating and morning inability to control my body temperature has made good ol' Tom's ineffective for my hormonal body. Thus, I tried my hand at making my own deodorant the other day. Here is my report: For three full days now (including my episodes of nighttime and morning-time sweats) I have been stink-free. This amazing recipe has solved all of my problems!! I have even talked Ben and two other friends into taking the plunge into the homemade deodorant realm:)

Now, if I could just convince my hair to dread, buy a new sewing machine that actually works, and throw out all my processed food I could finally achieve my goal of becoming a hippie. Sigh, someday.

Cooking 101

Sunday was my surprise day. All week Ben had been sitting on this secret, telling me I'm not allowed to plan anything for Sunday, I wouldn't be going to church, Sunday is all about me, etc. I started to get a little nervous Saturday because he has never before successfully kept a secret from me (ask me how he proposed someday), and there have been times that he is extremely excited about a surprise and it turns out not to be something I am overly excited about. So, Saturday, to ease my concerns, he let the cat out of the bag - I was going to cooking school!!!!!!!

My excitement built as I drew closer and closer to Portland where the class was being held. Who would be in the class? How would I compare to the others? Would we start out in the kitchen right away? Oh my, how excited I was!

I arrived about 15 minutes early and was immediately directed to my classroom - I had managed to get there even before my chef/teacher. Soon enough, others started arriving and before I knew it, the class had begun. We started with a power point and lecture, learning some basics on sanitation, terminology, and such. Then, it was in to the kitchen to tackle our knife skills. We practiced everything on potatoes and onions (oh, the tears!!) and I really got a feel for how to properly handle the knife. Our chef also did several de-boning demonstrations on whole chickens. It was pretty neat stuff. I'll never again pay for a chicken breast when I can get the entire chicken for the same price!!!

This was such an amazing and thoughtful gift from the love of my life! I know I have already said it too many times, but thank you, Babe!

That's Alotta Enchilada!

I think I've mentioned before that my family volunteers for a ministry to teen parents. Last night, we met with the teens and had a cooking night. We decided to make chicken and cheese enchiladas, refried beans, Spanish rice, cheese cake, and fudge (the last two pieces being made ahead of time). We had 12 parents come and they devoured three huge pans of enchiladas. They also made a sizeable dent in the refried beans and rice. There was no cheese cake or fudge left:)

I love the cooking night. We try to do it once a year, and it is always hectic. Getting all the ingredients together, meeting the parents' requests for certain dishes, trying to fit all the dishes together, teaching people how to chop, stir, boil water . . . it can be an exhausting night. But, the cool thing is, every year the parents are excited for this evening. We get to talk so much, there is a good deal of ribbing in regards to who knows how to cook already and who does not, and the parents seem to love the idea of eating their own creation. I love teaching people to be more comfortable in the kitchen, showing them little bits of cooking tips, and in general using something I'm really good at in ministry. I don't feel as though I have the gift of preaching, or teaching, or speaking in tongues, but I do know how to host! This is the night each year that makes me excited to continue in this ministry.

It is amazing what speaks to one's heart, isn't it?

Putting It to Rest

This weekend we will be putting our garden to rest. We have not gathered anything from it for a month (maybe more?), mostly due to the fact that my well-meaning father sprayed chemicals all over it as he was trying to rid our grass of the unidentified weed to which Treefrog is allergic.

It is a simple process, really, this putting our garden to rest. We will pull out the old plants, compost them, spread fresh compost or mushroom manure, and then cover with straw. It is a naptime project, if that.

Yet, I'm looking forward to it.

I'm looking forward the final mark of the changing season. We have moved slowly this year from summer to fall to winter. Our warm days and evenings of summer hung on much longer than was normal. Our fall crispness was surprisingly long as well. The winter rains didn't show up until the second week of November, an unusually late coming. This seems to be a pattern in my life right now too. I am holding on to the past, resisting a move forward into the next season. I find myself almost paralyzed by what lies ahead; preparing for this new season, welcoming it readily seem almost impossible. Yet, I know it will come. I know that eventually I will be set a pace by the rains to clean a bit more, freeze some casseroles for summer when I'll be too tired to cook, make a space for the little person who will make a grand entrance in so many months.

Months. That is what I have right now.

It seems so long, yet so short all at the same time.

The Pregnancy Blecks

All my pregnancies have been very different. With Treefrog, I found out immediately (cause I was watching the calendar like a hawk) and played up every little symptom I had. Or so it seems now (I'll address this later). I was sick (literally - on antibiotics at least once each trimester), I was tired, I was so very bad at being pregnant. I had an awful attitude. Even though I wanted to be pregnant, I didn't like the out-of-control feeling . . . maybe this is a pattern in my life. I gave birth to Treefrog in a non-emergency, but "very fast," c-section due to his heart condition found shortly after birth.

Two years later, I was pregnant with Fish for a couple months before finding out. We were trying, but I was much too busy chasing Treefrog around to notice a late period. The tiredness was there. Oh boy, I relished the two hour naptime Treefrog took! The crankiness was there somewhat, but all around, the pregnancy was different. I was nauseated this time, but only for about two weeks. This pregnancy was, well, easy. I carried Fish until I went into labor on my own nine days before his due date. I labored for about 12 hours and then had a c-section for lack of progress.

Fast forward two more years and I find myself pregnant again. We were definitely trying, but had not expected to get pregnant this early (with both previous pregnancies it took us 3 and 4 months to have success). I knew when implantation happened (mostly because my friend J was with me, telling me that's what was going on in my body). From implantation on (or so it seems), I have been sick - nauseated sick. I will have a couple of good days and then, much like today, it will hit me head-on. Sleeping sometimes helps. Sometimes eating something with a healthy does of good fat (cheese quesadilla or peanut butter sandwich for instance) helps. Sometimes no matter what I try, I end up feeling sick the entire day. This pregnancy makes me realize that I was such a whiny-pants during the first pregnancy! This pregnancy makes me look back wistfully at my second one. This pregnancy makes me want to crawl into a hole and wait there until the baby decides to come out, or until the scheduled c-section, whichever comes first.

Don't get me wrong, though. I'm very happy to be welcoming child number three into our home. I'm very blessed with the type of husband who is in love with being around to help (see yesterday's post). I'm superbly blessed with in-laws who take one or both of the boys each weekend to ensure a good night's rest for both Ben and I. Every once in a while, though, it is just nice to complain:)

T-Day Count Down

I started a list last week of what we will be serving for Thanksgiving. I'm not sure why this year I'm so overwhelmed and feel the need to control every detail so much, but it is what it is. So, my list.

I have turkey (for carnivores) with stuffing, tofurkey (for us vegetarians, okay, I mean for me), green beans, cauliflower-broccoli gratin, macaroni salad (2 kinds b/c my dad is very picky), deviled eggs, stuffing muffins (again mainly for the vegetarians, but everyone devours them), rolls, and cranberry sauce. Dessert will be pumpkin pie (made from scratch!) and friendship bread.

Since I've been looking at this list for a week, I, naturally, felt the need to make another list for this upcoming week. This list was more like a chart, with a list for each day leading up to and including Thanksgiving Day. It shows what I need to make each day so that I will have enough oven space on the big day. I did, however, draw a very fine-looking turkey on my chart to make it a little more festive for those who might see it hanging on my cabinet in the kitchen. It's all in the details, people.

Anywho, I'm finally feeling a little better about next week and all the details coming into place. I'm actually excited to be hosting Thanksgiving and not too worried about what the state of my house will look like when people come through the door. I'm hoping I don't start worrying about the cleanliness of my house, though, because I don't think I have room in my kitchen for another chart.

A Way to Honor

I am a pacifist.

Yes, this means that I choose to declare myself pro-life and anti-war/violence. This means that I would declare religious rights to not being drafted to the military (if the draft was ever opened up to include women). This means that I do everything in my power to promote peace in this world.

This does not mean that I don't appreciate the freedoms I have been given in this country. This does not mean that I don't recognize that many people, who believed that war was the only way, took up arms and fought to give me the life that I have today. This does not mean that I don't respect the men and women who serve our country the best way they know how (through the military) and that I don't pray for these same men and women to return safely home.

I am honored to be a part of this country today, and I'm glad that Senator Richard Burr was moved to create an opportunity for the men and women who are serving, whose family is serving, or who once served this country to enjoy the National Parks for absolutely free. I hope that many men, women, and children are able to take this opportunity and spend some time out of doors today!

Mmmmm

Ritz Crackers
Colby Cheese
French Onion Dip

This was my 3 o'clock snack today. It sounded so good to me and totally revolting to Ben. Anyone want to weigh in? (Not literally, of course, because after thatsnack I won't be getting on a scale until December!)

The Sound of Silence

This is my most favorite time of day. Right after lunch, Fish goes down for his much needed nap, and when Treefrog is here he usually watches a movie or plays outside by himself. It is quiet. It is peaceful. It is bliss. This is the time of day that gives me enough energy to make it through until Ben comes home.

I love hearing the sounds of the cars on the highway a couple blocks away. I love hearing the birds chirping. Dogs barking. Students walking and talking on the sidewalk. Muted noises from the backyard of Treefrog in an imaginary world all his own.

This morning I began my day with a quiet moment. I opened my Bible for the first time in, I'm embarrassed to say, months. I sat at the dining room table, children still snoozing upstairs, sipping a cup of freshly roasted brewed coffee and met with Jesus. I am realizing now the impact that makes on the remainder of the day. How soon I forget when I have these spans of months that go by being self-focused.

Wow, Okay, It's Almost November

So, there are many days that I feel like I should just post a little update. Something small to tell all those readers out there just what I'm doing or have done or am wishing I had gotten done. And then another day passes and I'm still in the same boat. It is still floating, mind you, however, I think my feet are getting quite wet . . .

Well, here's a little update:

Our kiddos have taken to waking up sometime between 2am and 4am. Sometimes they will go back to sleep, but often times (like this morning for instance) my ever-loving, always sacrificing husband gets up and either plays with them or vainly tries to sleep through their playing upstairs. It is OLD and it NEEDS TO STOP!!!!

Part of the reason that Ben is so intent on helping out during the night is because I am 8 weeks pregnant and in full swing of hormonal woes. I am emotional, sick spontaneously, and tired 99% of the time. It's great. I love being pregnant. Can I do this again?! (If you can't hear the sarcasm, please stop reading!)

Homeschooling happened for about two weeks. It wasn't working for Treefrog (I needed to switch up my curriculum a bit) and then my dad came for an extended stay. That was the hardest three weeks of my life. I felt like such a failure for stopping school. Plus, I was an emotional wreck dealing with my high-maintenance dad on a day-to-day basis.

I think that brings you up to speed. I'll try to do better at posting as long as my life continues on a normal sort of path. I also want to spend more time on the good. Maybe I'll even post twice today so that a negative post isn't the only thing you get!

p.s. We are VERY excited to welcome a new life into ours. Treefrog loves looking at the baby's picture from the ultrasound and I love showing it to him. We talk about whether the baby is happy in Mama's tummy and what he/she is doing in there. It is wonderful to watch him think about the baby!