baby bump

Well this is the week the rest of the world realized I was pregnant. My whole body shifted...enough so that when I walked into our Thursday night small group (a group of people I see weekly) everyone stopped and commented that my belly popped out. And then at church on Sunday lots of women came up and said they didn't know before, but they knew now. And, as a friend pointed out, I'm wearing maternity clothes now, which is also giving me away.

This week I popped. And lots has been shifting in my body to make way for the growing belly.  I have a hip that's chronically "asleep" and driving me bananas, enough that I've been to the chiro a few times and now have renewed my Y membership so I can join water aerobics. It's time to get my body ready for another 20 weeks of carrying this baby. (Better late than never!)

I'm feeling fine on the whole, energy is back up from first trimester, though I still have many moments when I tucker out quickly and have to stop to think where my stamina went. I was cleaning out the garage this weekend and realized that I just move slower to get the same amount of things done. One day while trying to prepare the area for our barn to be taken down I thought to myself, "who usually helps me with these sorts of projects?" And then I remembered...oh, the not-pregnant me.

It's fun to to be visible now, it's a miracle to feel kicks on the inside. It's a wonder that even at the times I have forgotten I am pregnant, there is still a little life growing stronger and stronger inside of me. Tomorrow marks 20 weeks, and I'm proud of that. Half-way there, and feeling grateful.

a one-daycation

At some point last week I saw a forecast that had Saturday's high hitting somewhere close to 80. Eighty. Summertime weather. So I dreamed up a plan to head to Lake City for the day with the family. I told Rory about my idea with plenty of heads up time.

Which is actually probably worth writing about. I have figured out one major difference between how Rory and I operate. I love spontaneity and surprises. But Rory's definition of spontaneity involves days of foreknowledge to get himself prepared for the spontaneous event. Now, this could totally bother me and I might see us as incompatible. But this trip to Lake City was such a huge victory for me because I worked within both of our personalities: I planned a lot further out for Rory's sake and he enthusiastically participated in a day trip that involved as much driving as actual time at the destination for my sake. And it was great. We brought good music, I packed an awesome picnic, we got to sit by a huge body of water that I adore and we ended the day with ice cream cones. We were home by two, in time for the whole family to take a nap before hitting the list of things Rory wanted to do with his Saturday: mowing, cleaning the garage, prepping another burn pile... 

It was an awesome day, and mostly because we were so aware of what the other needed and wanted and saw to it that it all happened. 

I love Lake Superior, but it is a haul up there from where we live. Lake City is my second favorite, because it's doable in a day. And with the water, the tourist feel, the antique shops and ice cream cones it somehow feels like a mini-vacation all wrapped up in half a day.

a hope note

On Wednesday Ivar woke up and told me that he was going to make a hope note for Vernon. I asked him what a hope note was and he told me, "it's a card with a picture that tells Vernon I hope he comes back." I loved the simplicity of this idea. I loved how sweet he was when he said it. I love that we hadn't talked about Vernon in weeks, but that he woke up thinking about our well-loved cat.

We got Vernon when he was just a kitten. You who have read here for a while know him well, as he's been well documented. He had the personality of a dog. Super faithful, always nearby. If we went anywhere on the farm, he followed. There were even a few times I'd drive to the end of our lane and notice a shadow moving on the top of our car, to realize Velma and Vernon were perched on top, ready to go to town with us. Our family photo session was photo bombed frequently by Vernon. I think in the end we actually had to lock him in the garage so we could get some pictures without the cat and super distracted kids.

Vernon has been missing for a few months now. I suppose that's the life of a farm cat, but it's also a surprise because we had him for two whole years, which is a long time in farm cat years. He has disappeared for weeks at a time before, but this is by far the longest stretch. And we miss him.

I suppose this is my own hope note, hoping he comes home.

elsie at 2 1/2

Elsie runs everywhere. Everywhere. She never walks, she jogs. Even if it's from her place at the kitchen table over to the silverware drawer to get a new spoon, she jogs. If we're outside and she suddenly wants to be somewhere else, she runs, pumping her arms, kicking her feet up to her bottom. It really is something to watch.

As a result, she is also the most likely to get hurt in a day. She takes some nasty spills. It's become so common that our responses are quite tempered. Last week she was on our tile taking off her winter coat and slipped on a table runner that had been used as a farm field earlier in the day. Her arms were caught in the coat and she fell forward onto her face, splitting her lip, hitting her front teeth (for the umpteenth time in her short life). We might have reacted in a more dramatic way if it wasn't so downright crazy that she fell on her face again.

Elsie wakes up in a splendid mood and is proving that she does not need nearly as much sleep as her brother. She has begun skipping her naps and instead plays quietly in her room during quiet playtime. In the mornings she will come jogging into our room sometime between 7:04 and 7:07 to tell me, "I went poopie and peepee in the potty, so now can I have a marshmallow? Mama, can I have a marshmallow? Can we go down and have a marshmallow? Mom, can you get up and get me a marshmallow? Can you sit up and come get me a marshmallow?"

It's funny because we hardly used the marshmallow at all during her actual potty training. But now she's figured out the connection and likes to play it up as much as possible.

She is quite the mess. We just started having her wear a bib again, which was a brilliant idea (that only took us a year and a half to figure out...) She is the first to find mud, dirt or food. Tonight she pulled Rory's tall glass of coca-cola off of the counter to see what was in it, right onto herself and the whole kitchen floor. We go through a disproportionate amount of hand towels and kitchen towels in this house for only having four members. But Elsie actually accounts for about seven of them a day.

She and Ivar are the best of friends. It's really a joy to watch. I heard them playing house out in the garage yesterday and they were playing so hard. At night I hear them singing songs back and forth to each other, babbling about the day, telling each other the plan for the next day. It'll melt a mom's heart.

She has started telling us about the baby in her belly. She'll let us know, "my baby loves chicken!"

She's got some strong opinions and she is happy to share them. She keeps us on our toes, trying to train her to be polite while maintaining her fun and wild spirit. I told Rory recently, "Elsie's hair matches her personality perfectly." And it's so true. Fired up and wild, we just love her and her crazy hair to pieces.

a barn razing

This weekend our little barn went down. This actually was a building next to the big barn that was burned before we moved here. I'm not sure what it housed back in the day, but we loved it for its character, its history and the charm it brought to the farm. Unfortunately, it just wasn't safe. We couldn't let kids go in there and we had no purposes of our own for storage or any other use. So after two and a half years of helping us make pretty pictures, it was time to go down.

On Saturday, Rory's dad came and they moved mountains. They spent the morning emptying out the pole barn (not pictured) as well as this barn, driving truck loads of things to a temporary spot on our farm or to the garage. The kids got to ride along in the cab of the truck, which as you can see below, is about the greatest thing on planet earth. Everyone was having a jolly time. And so much got done. In the afternoon they pulled off the leaning roof that was already partly off the building. I've been waiting for that to happen for a long time and it was fun to watch.

Sunday the weather warmed up and we got a new crew of helpers: my folks, our friend Derrick and his son and our pastor's son. Derrick and Rory took off as much barn wood as possible, and the boys pounded out the nails.

My dad was on the inside pounding boards from that angle. And my mom made brownies and kept everyone hydrated while watching my kids. I took pictures...and a nap. I've got some pregnancy stuff going on and was happy to watch the work being done.

We saved as much barn wood as possible. We have a couple of ideas for its use, and it will be fun to bring it back in new ways.

Once all of the barn wood was removed that we could safely remove, it was time to pull it down. The actual event was quite exciting...to watch a tractor pull down a building that size is pretty awesome. But the more I watch the video the more sad and sorry I am for the building. I am the queen of personification anyway, and when it falls, it just looks defeated. I understand it is just a building...but I'm good at adding in an extra dose of emotion where I feel it is needed. Especially when I'm pregnant.

In the end it did go down. As Rory said, "by the hands of two pastors, a computer programmer and two eleven-year-olds." At some point this week we will have quite the inferno on our hands. Derrick told me I should call that blog post, "barn a-blazing." I'll keep you posted.