I told my cousin Sarah that we must be a part of the Cozy Womb Club. She carried her babies past the due date as well. My Aunt Diane is in this club and my friend Katie and so are many others. And it is a sincere waiting game. Time is measured in days and nights, because each morning you think, "well this could be it!" And every night you think, "maybe we'll wake up and go to the hospital." Every 12 hours seems to be a new set of possibilities.
The truth is, as I told Rory today, there are so many friends I know who have begged God for one more week or one more day, hoping the baby could grow strong on the inside before it came. So we are fine. The baby is healthy and doing well and tomorrow will be 41 weeks officially. Today we go to the doctor to make a plan to induce. With my whole heart I hope things start naturally, but it will not be for a lack of effort on my part! I have walked stairs, our road, done many things to try to get things moving, but it turns out a mom doesn't have a lot of control over this sort of thing.
But I have heard nonstop stories of how others have gotten their labor started. And been told many things on what I should be doing. Some are well received and others make me feel like I am doing something wrong.
My very favorite though, was my neighbor's daughter who told me that when she was 3, her mom was due with her sister. They had taken the 3 year old to the cousins to play and then picked her up to wait for the baby back at their home. While opening the door for his wife, the dad misjudged her position and opened the door into her belly with enough force that it caused her water to break on the spot! So they turned around, took the 3 year old back to the cousins and went to the hospital.
Something about the slap stick of that moment makes me laugh so hard. What a riot.
So we'll wait and continue to get things done around the house. In a great twist, we have had some wonderful family time this week. Rory is still busy, but he's on baby-mode and has been so present. We have made lots of fun summer memories this week and for that I am so grateful.
And tomorrow we have 50 baby chicks arriving! We didn't see that coming when the due date was a week ago! But this is life, and it's full and it's good.
homeschool lite
This summer we are going to try to continue some sort of home school routine on the days that have nothing planned. This is mostly because routine really does help shape a day and with little kids I do like having some sort of rhythm to our time. Even with the baby coming. I know it will have to be flexible, but believe me, this is flexible!
The kids each got a new math book as I have been told that math is most important thing to keep moving forward throughout the summer months, unless you want to review the old content for 2-3 months in the fall. I have so many friends who have commented that it only takes one summer to learn that lesson the hard way and then you decide to do some sort of math over the summer. So the kids each moved up a grade and are so excited about their new books. (staying with Critical Thinking Company for them...Kindergarten for Elsie and 1st Grade for Ivar.)
Then Ivar has to read us a story each day to keep up his reading words. And then we work on a letter in our handwriting books. And that's it. It's low key. It's fun and quick. But it sort of keeps my head in the game. Even if this happens twice a week it feels good. We are signed up for our bank's summer reading program and our library's summer bingo program. Both of those have fun and creative things to add into our days and I am grateful for the creative ideas from both of those programs (reading outside, asking a friend their favorite book and reading it, reading a book about your town...) I know there are some drawbacks to incentive programs, but I'm a fan. Incentive tends to be motivating!
And I still have to say my most enthused pupil is still Hattie who has her own workbook from the dollar tree that she works in diligently. Until she moves on to help her sister...
my thoughts on the gender
As a bonus of the late ultrasound, we got to see our fully formed baby one last time in black and white before this baby comes out and is placed in our arms.
When I look at the picture above I want to weep. I love this child so much I could burst open. I cannot wait to hold it in my arms. I cannot wait to meet this life that God has chosen for our family.
Rory and I have chosen not to find out the gender of any of our kids until they are born. Rory was encouraged by his brother Troy to not find out and let that moment of birth hold the big surprise. My reasoning has more to do with stories I've picked up along the way with mom's finding out the gender at their 20 week ultrasound and then feeling some sort of disappointment. I had a friend tell me she was at a gender reveal party and when the "wrong" gender was revealed the mom ran to the bathroom and cried.
My problem with finding out the gender before the actual birth of the child is that every mom and dad has an opinion. Whether we admit it or not I believe we are gunning for one gender over the other. The even-steven part of me thinks another son would be great to round out the family: two boys and two girls. A brother would be so fun for Ivar. Another boy would give me the chance to get out Ivar's darling baby outfits.
But then I think about another daughter: three sisters in our family! A bff for Hattie. But most of all, that this would be the designed life that God has chosen for our family.
After I had Ivar I told everyone, "after surviving labor and delivery they could have announced, "it's a monkey!" and I would have been overjoyed because that monkey was mine. I carried that monkey for 9 months and was ready to love whoever they put on my chest." And it's so true! The gender is the very last thing you are thinking about when the baby finally arrives. Joy, elation, overwhelming love, big fat tears rolling down your cheeks...those things overwhelm your heart and mind when they lay that life on your chest. I just don't believe there is room to feel anything but gratitude in that moment.
And that's how I felt today, looking at the baby moving around inside of me. I want that baby. Boy or Girl. Even Monkey. I want that one. The one that I have been carrying for 40 weeks. And man, I want it so badly. Rory and I are so ready. Twiddling our thumbs, we are. And I just can't wait to meet the little one. Who are you, baby? It doesn't even matter. I adore you so, so much and love you already with my whole entire heart.
Tuesday is the due date!
But let me tell you, that does not stop a woman from hoping the baby might come on Father's Day. It seemed so perfect. And we do have a streak of barn animals being born on holidays, so a human birth seemed possible. Plus my hips are complete jello, ready to do this thing. And I've put up with 8 weeks of "due any day now!" so that it felt like maybe it could come a wee bit early.
But no. Ivar was one day early. I think Elsie was two days past her due date. And Hattie a whopping 10 days past hers. The plus side is that I clearly have a very cozy and comfy womb that my kids enjoy for the full 40 weeks. And that is a gift. But I am ready now.
Rory has been working like crazy lately and told me Friday that he was hopeful to have a few nights of good rest and days of rest before the baby came. The next morning he said he'd like to move the cat back from the barn into the garage which I took to mean, "let's clean the garage all day." Which is my love language. So I did. I hit that garage like a woman in her 39th week of pregnancy, loading up the car with loads and loads to take to giveaway. But Rory was confused as to how I jumped from "let's move the cat back into the garage" to "please move this, and that, and lift that and that for me..." We had a nice talk that night where he explained People over Projects. And I tried to argue that sometimes Pregnancy trumps People, but he didn't buy it. We worked through it, got a good night's sleep and I'm still pleased with my clean garage. ;)
Today (Monday) I took the kids to the library to get started on the summer reading program, to the river, to a few favorite shops including the cupcake shop (where we each split a cupcake, and Hattie discovered she LOVES cupcakes and Elsie dropped her cupcake flat on it's frosting on the floor...) and then to our favorite thrift shop and to a taco stand for a cheap lunch. The goal was to exhaust myself, and we did. We came home, ate our tacos and then I decided to tackle the kid's room. Again, anything to get this party started.
Emotions are right on the edge again. On Friday we went to play with Elsie's best friends but before we left she asked me to get into my bed so we could snuggle a bit before we got in the car. She has asked for a lot of snuggles lately. It reminds me a lot cupcakes and combines. Sort of that high alert, something huge is about to happen, but we don't know when mood... I was trying to explain what a mind game this whole thing is to Rory. I said it would be like knowing you are going to have to run a marathon, but not ever knowing when the gun is going to go off.
So we'll wait. I have a feeling it will all happen soon. But I felt that way with Hattie, so what do I know? Honestly, you'd think I'd have a better sense of how this labor and delivery thing begins, but I really don't. I read through the stages of labor last night and thought, "yeah right. As if I have ever known when I was in "transition." All I remember is that I was in "pain." Ha!
And even knowing the pain that is to come, I am still ready to do this thing. I cannot wait to meet this little baby who is swooshing around. I cannot find out if we have a little sister or a little brother in there. I cannot wait to hold it and introduce myself. I cannot wait for my kids to meet this little baby and to have everyone get to know each other.
But until then, I guess I can wait. Because I have to wait! Patience, they say.
two great reads...
It's Friday night, and we just finished family movie night with the kids. Tonight was Rory's pick: a documentary called Chicken People. It was hilarious. Sort of a Best in Show documentary all about chickens. We fast forwarded some parts but all in all, a pretty funny super quirky, entertaining movie.
Rory is putting the kids to bed now and I just wanted to pass along two excellent articles that were shared with me this week.
This article felt so affirming, and strangely original. The part that impacted me the most was her second tip: Self Congratulation is key to mental health. I loved that paragraph. The article is not just for moms of large families. It definitely is for all mothers. And full of wisdom, I thought.
My friend Dorothy sent this article to me today and I LOVED IT. I wish I had written it. Tonight at dinner I told Rory about the whole article and I got a little choked up. It's all true: there is work and there is reward. I love the whole piece.
So take a moment to click through or print these two out. I'm going to print both out and put them somewhere so I can return to them often. I hope you enjoy!
And now it's the weekend! Rory has a movie chosen for the two of us to watch next and then our plan is to rest this weekend. We have been packing a lot in lately, and it is time to rest before this labor train takes off! Have a great night. :)
staged to sell
Plus, it's fun to have the nursery rid of toys and toddler clutter and back to being for babies (except for the thomas reading chair and board books, that Hattie still frequents daily.)
having big kids...
Elsie has taken to baby dolls in the last few weeks. She carries one around and shows me how she will hold the new baby so that I can chase Hattie around. I have voiced a few times around here that Hattie is going to need some serious attention once the baby arrives. The adjustment ahead is certain to rock her world more than anyone else.
And so that is comforting, knowing that Elsie is ready to hold the newborn. ;) But more comforting is that Ivar and Hattie are good, good friends. He is so patient with her. And even though I hear a whole lot of, "no! Hattie! no!" around here, I also see a whole lot of this stuff: wagon rides and play. Today I said I was going to put Hattie down for her nap and he protested, "I'm not done playing with her yet!" So she got to stay up a little later than usual.
And do you know what is more impressive than a six-year-old successfully setting up Mouse Trap? A six-year-old with the help of a one-year-old setting up Mouse Trap. I'm actually looking forward to adding another kid to this mix. I love them each so much.
the highest compliment
We had a really awesome conversation about the joy of words, and how fun it is to get to use them in different ways to make people laugh. He said he wanted to memorize my whole blog post so he could tell the story that funny. And that led to a conversation about humor. I told him he didn't need to memorize how I wrote it, but if there was a funny group of words, or a funny line or two, he could use those when he told the story on his own. I told him about how I listened to Grandpa Paul tell lots of funny stories when I was growing up, and noticed how he would change his voice at some parts, or slow down his words and how it takes a little practice to figure out how to set up a joke.
I also remember sitting in Ms. Groves 10th grade English and History class everyday and listening to her opening stories telling about something funny that had happened the night before. And I took notes. That's no lie. I remember writing down phrases and then retelling her stories until I figured out how to use her funny lines in my own material. Ivar said he is going to listen to Uncle Kyle and cousin Jack to learn how to be funny.
Anyways, to have this conversation with my 6-and-a-half-year-old made me so excited for all that is to come as he learns how to play with words. He is writing a story right now called Squeeker and Croak. I'm writing down exactly what he tells me to and this story is awesome. He's got a great imagination in there and I absolutely love that I get a front row seat watching his stories and writing and joke telling develop. He's definitely on the right track.
the dirty-diaper-of-fun
We've all heard the tale of the one year old who discovers their dirty-diaper-of-fun during nap time. This war story is a harrowing one, and often ends with groans of disbelief and wonder at the magnitude of the mess. I've had friends survive this storm, still alive to tell the tale. In the back of our heads we all know this is possible, but highly unlikely with our own child. After all, we have had two kids never do this. So why would one of our offspring suddenly do something so heinous.
So we put our wee one down for her nap in a t-shirt and diaper. It seems fine. It's hot enough and she is warm blooded, always hot and sweaty, so this is probably the most comfortable for her.
And that nap turns out to be particularly long. And particularly quiet. It's such a gift. This time in the afternoon devoted to quiet tasks to accomplish before the arrival of baby #4.
The nap is so long that you might go and check on the 20-month-old. And the moment you open the door you are hit with a smell so fowl you know all that is ahead. You pull the curtain and even upon seeing the war zone, you actually feel very little emotion. The smears of painting and artistry are from head to toe, on every blanket, bar and crib rail. There is a look of innocence as your dear daughter tells you she is not the enemy. She knows this is wrong and continues on repeat, "no, no, poopie. no, no." She is with you. On your side. How this happened is truly a mystery.
The mess was huge, but I didn't even call for back up. Somehow my heart rate didn't even go up. I knew what had to be done. And even though I can't hardly reach her mattress down so low without smooshing my belly into the crib rail, and even though bending over for three rounds of new water in the bathtub is not my idea of a great position these days, I did it. Because I am a mother. And now I have material to add when the stories begin about the day the one year old discovered their dirty-diaper-of-fun.
So we put our wee one down for her nap in a t-shirt and diaper. It seems fine. It's hot enough and she is warm blooded, always hot and sweaty, so this is probably the most comfortable for her.
And that nap turns out to be particularly long. And particularly quiet. It's such a gift. This time in the afternoon devoted to quiet tasks to accomplish before the arrival of baby #4.
The nap is so long that you might go and check on the 20-month-old. And the moment you open the door you are hit with a smell so fowl you know all that is ahead. You pull the curtain and even upon seeing the war zone, you actually feel very little emotion. The smears of painting and artistry are from head to toe, on every blanket, bar and crib rail. There is a look of innocence as your dear daughter tells you she is not the enemy. She knows this is wrong and continues on repeat, "no, no, poopie. no, no." She is with you. On your side. How this happened is truly a mystery.
The mess was huge, but I didn't even call for back up. Somehow my heart rate didn't even go up. I knew what had to be done. And even though I can't hardly reach her mattress down so low without smooshing my belly into the crib rail, and even though bending over for three rounds of new water in the bathtub is not my idea of a great position these days, I did it. Because I am a mother. And now I have material to add when the stories begin about the day the one year old discovered their dirty-diaper-of-fun.
friday night mind dump
It has been quite the week. We had multiple days with huge events...and well, actually, any outing feels like a huge event lately. I just told Rory tonight that I can't hold Hattie over the sink any more to wash her hands. I am throwing in the towel on that one. So if I'm struggling to wash Hattie's hands, we know a trip out of the house is quite the ordeal.
On Tuesday Hattie had a big appointment at Gillette's that included a sedated MRI. The results came back in our favor and we are so grateful and glad for awesome doctors and for a good report. The moment the second doctor left the room and we were free to go home my stomach went tight as a rock. I had to sit there for a moment and let it pass, but I felt very clearly that the baby inside was saying, "alrighty, time to turn your attention to me. I'm coming soon."
We got home and on Wednesday morning I woke up in full-on nesting mode. And my first task was the kids clothes. I went through each drawer, ruthless, trying to get each kid down to 7-8 outfits, and making a list of what I could buy to make certain items into an outfit. Then I did my own clothes. It felt great and in the end I had bags and bags to give away. That night we had a babysitter so Rory and I could go out to dinner and I ended up having him take me to a small town nearby where I was able to donate all the clothes to a little church that has a pay-as-you're-able thrift shop in the basement. You know you're in full purge mode when you use date time/ babysitter time to drop off stuff you want out of your house! We then went out for dinner and had a great night. We are usually pretty terrible about date nights but this summer we are trying hard to rectify that. We have our sitter come for two hours. This way we can afford her to come weekly. I'm just so glad she's on the calendar!
Thursday I woke up ready to gut Hattie's room and clean it from top to bottom for the new baby. I swept, mopped, rolled up the old and nasty rug (lots of spit up on that baby) getting ready for a new rug, wiped the base boards, downsized her toys and Rory built a second crib in the big kids room for Hattie. Elsie used 54 wipes to wipe down the walls and dresser and crib and I was so grateful for her help. That night Hattie had her first sleep over with her siblings and it went surprisingly well. She cries out in the night, not needing anything, but still startling for her big brother. He's may be the one who is having the most difficulty with the new sleeping arrangement. And I don't really blame him. Rory and I slept without a noise fan for the first time since Hattie was born. She is noisy...so Ivar may get a sound machine out of the deal.
I also spent the day cleaning my laundry room which has become a catch all of every single thing that comes into the house and doesn't have a home. It was a great task since I am in the give-away spirit. The room looks flawless again and I am so pleased. Today I walked in there a few times just to take it in. I went out with girlfriends last night, which felt so good and will likely not happen a whole lot this summer after the baby arrives.
And then Friday came and I was wiped out. Hattie and I walked to the barn first thing to find "Dada!" and shortly after Rory left for a meeting. It was then that I saw all the sheep out near the garden, out of their fence. I waddled back out there, opened the barn doors and took a good long while working them back into their barn stall. I texted Rory that I was panting has hard as the sheep.
After lunch I called Rory, who was out in the garden, and told him I needed direction for the day. A friend had just left after a fun play date and I was aimless and exhausted. And he said, "go to bed." And I wanted to cry with thanksgiving. So that's what I did for the afternoon. When I woke up he took Elsie on a date to Dairy Queen, we ate rice and beans for dinner, enjoyed Family Movie Night with a little ditty about a Fireman named Sam and now I just read to the kids and put them all to bed in the same room. Hattie cried for a bit, but she's out now. And Ivar just came down and said, "I'm turning on the air conditioning." And he did!
I'm not really sure why I wrote all of that out...you are likely bored out of your gourd. But I suppose if I read this years down the road, I might remember this season a little better. There were other things that happened this week too...like Rory and Ivar packing a lunch and heading into the woods near us for an adventure that led to an unexpected waterfall and giant boulder. And all the afternoons I spent up in the barn praying and reading my Bible while Rory took the kids for an hour before dinner. We had our friend's wedding on Sunday, Memorial Day at Rory's folks with the whole Groves clan, and even some impromptu meetings with our pastor as we worked some things out before baby arrives. Life is good and full. We are trying now to slow it all down before it gets even fuller. Tomorrow I will wash the newborn clothes in Dreft and then I'll probably need another nap again. :)
kid quotes
Ivar: Mom, I would like to get that book about Space back from the library so you can draw a big picture of the planets and I can color it in.
Elsie: Mom. I don't want to learn about Space at all. I think it's very boring because it's just...a lot of space.
Me: What would you like to learn about, Elsie?
Elsie: Well, how the elephants helped get all the poop and pee off of the ark. (totally out of the blue...nothing had been discussed of this ever before.)
Ivar and I laughed a little too hard at her honest educational request. She was sad and ran away. But I still can't stop laughing.
**
I told Elsie she needed to start eating more at mealtimes because her snacking is just not sustainable. She would snack all day long, and I can't be in the kitchen all day meeting her caloric needs. She said, "Mom! I am even hungry when I am eating!!! That is how hungry I am!"
**
Hattie needed a quick bath after a spaghetti dinner. Rory said I could just hand her to him quickly while he took a shower so it wouldn't be so long of an ordeal. Hattie did not enjoy the 90 second experience at all, yelling, "all done! all done!" the whole time. Rory said he was ready to pass her off, and I was ready with a big towel. As soon as I had her in the towel she raised her hands and repeated with quiet crying relief, "Hallelujah. Hallelujah. Hallelujah," glad that was over.
**
And this one actually happened a few weeks ago, and I wrote it down immediately after it happened when Rory brought me a pen and my journal. I had just told him and he said, "please get that on paper." So here it is, straight from my journal.
Elsie came into the bathroom after they had been tucked in while I was in the bath. She stood on the step stool and looked at herself in the mirror and told me with great animation and exaggerated expressions, "Mom, for my 20 birthday I want to get my ears pierced because it will hurt like a shot but then I'll have sparkle jewels and then my hair will be to my knees like Laura Ingalls and I can take you shopping so you have something beautiful. And I'll wear one of your necklaces, probably not your white circle one (pearls) because that was your grandma's and very special to you, but probably this circle one with the sparkles because you'll probably have a new one. And I'll wear my bracelet from church and I'll be so beautiful because I'll be all jeweleried! And mom! We will paint our toenails because the polish will probably be off! So when I am (said quietly to herself 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16, 17, 18, 19, 20) nineteen we can paint our nails so that when I am 20 they are dry! And I would like you to paint your fingers because that is prettier. An you should cut your hair a little bit so it grows faster and longer down to your knees like Laura!"
**
Elsie said, "Mom, when it is my birthday no one can cry or be mean or be sassy. Because that is my special day. They can only cry if they get really hurt, like bleeding and need a band aid."
**
Elsie has a little wall art that says, "sisters make the best friends." She looked at it and said, "mom, look for a little sign on your computer to hang on my wall that says, "Brothers and Sisters make the jolliest of friends."
...and a picture...
But I was told by my doctor yesterday that the baby is for sure 8 pounds already. And growing!
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