Charlotte at Nine Months

Charlotte is nine months old today!

And, coincidentally, based on careful calendar-counting of 41 weeks gestation (minus the two "pregnant" weeks before she was actually in there), plus 41 weeks and a day since she was born... it's also her inside-out day!

That means she's officially been out here in the world longer than she was inside me.

WHAT.

(Cue predictable commentary about the impossibility of this, because her pregnancy was clearly forrrrrevvvvverrrr long, and also wasn't she born like ten minutes ago?)

signature gap-tooth grin

The best way I can describe Charlotte at nine months is on the verge.

On the verge of talking. We hear dada with some regularity, and once I swear I heard a mama but considering it hasn't happened since, I'm finally conceding it was an accident. We hear a ha! every time we see her or greet her, which we're pretty sure is hi. And in case anyone wasn't sure how to melt Mark's heart, a gap-toothed beautiful baby girl flailing her arms saying ha dada! will totally do it. True story.

On the verge of sitting. She's oh so close. If she's really in the mood she can hold herself up for a few seconds, but never long enough yet to get a picture. I give it a few weeks. Well, nine months and a few weeks. She's following in her siblings' delayed-gross-motor footsteps after all. But that's a post for another day. For now, she's less behind than they were (we think?) and the important thing is she is on the verge of sitting! As all mommies can attest, a whole world of photographable moments will come when this finally happens.

playing in big sister's room

On the verge of a growth spurt. We haven't had her nine month checkup yet, so we don't know if she's actually gained much since starting solids a few weeks ago, but to our eyes (the ones that matter), she is losing some of the lanky skinniness that has defined her for the last few months, and she's finally starting to fill out a little. Anyway she eats incredibly well (and incredibly much). I can feel the growth spurt coming.

On the verge of weaning. This one brings mixed feelings, so I don't want to write too much about it.  But now that Charlotte has food, she doesn't care as much about the boob. Sad but true. She still nurses 3-4 times a day, but it takes an effort to keep her focused on feeding instead of whatever her brother and sister are doing, or whoever else might be in the room talking. It's the opposite of Nathan and Anneliese who both resisted food somewhat (Nathan especially) (story of his life now that I think about it) in favor of nursing. With Charlotte, I'm going to keep going as long as I can, but I don't know if she'll even last the year I was hoping for, and almost certainly not longer.

On the verge of real personality (and by personality I mean opinions). In the past week or so, she has started to balk when we strap her in her car seat, put her in her crib before she's ready (oh baby girl, you will learn I don't care; it's naptime), or replace a toy she's holding with something safer (like an actual toy). She is starting to expect us to pick things up when she drops (read: throws) them. And she's just learning that if she giggles she will get all the attention. I sense a stirring of personality that is about to explode onto the scene. Brace yourself.  And stay tuned.

Yay for nine months, baby girl! I love you even more now than I did the day I found out you were in me (and believe me, that was already a lot). Happy inside out, little Charlotte.

Charlotte's Birth Story

Hey guess what.  Charlotte is a week old.  Yes, already.  So before I forget the details of last Monday, I'm going to recount her birth story.  Now, bear with me.  It's fairly unremarkable how the whole thing went down, except for the last fifteen minutes.  But I guess unremarkable is pretty much the goal when it comes to labor and delivery, amIright?

So shortly before midnight last Sunday, I finally packed my bag for the hospital.  (And I'm not even lying about it this time.)  Not because I was in labor and it was time to go, but because the induction I was hoping it wouldn't come to... was coming. First thing the next morning.

But wouldn't you know, as soon as that dang bag was packed, I started contracting.  Nothing regular, but real contractions that told me it's time.*  I can't even tell you how relieved I felt that things were starting up on their own.  It alleviated so many of the fears I had about inducing before my body agreed it was ready. I went to bed and slept as much as I could.

12am to 4am - I finally get tired of being woken up with each contraction, so I just get up. 

4am to 6:30am - I fill a few hours with my dvr, the computer, and a quick swim.  Because why else do we have a pool in our backyard except for a pre-dawn swim in labor?  I mean really.  Then I sit in the baby's room, wrapped in a towel, and watch it get light outside and feel cheesily happy because it's Charlotte's birthday!

6:30am - I call the hospital to find out what to do about my induction time slot.  Do I come in, even though I'm contracting on my own?  Yes, apparently.  I guess my chart says not to let me go past today (again with the low fluid) so they don't want to risk labor puttering out, and they tell me to come around 8 or 9.

6:30am to 9am - Contractions about ten minutes apart.  Each one reminds me of the terrible horrible awful no good very bad pain, lots of pain that will come if I don't get the epidural in time.  Yes, my fear of that is all-consuming.  I get cranky and stressed.  I take it out on Mark.  (Have I mentioned it before?  I'm lovely in labor.)  We bicker, I shower, we straighten the house, we take one last belly pic, we go to the hospital.  Somehow I decide against breakfast.  This will soon prove to be a terrible decision.

10:30am - Settled in a hospital room, which might be the very same room that both Nathan and Anneliese were born in.  (Yep, just checked. 4B30. Seriously, WakeMed?)  It looks different in the light of day.  Contractions eight minutes apart but not really painful.  IV is in place, pitocin is started, platelet count is approved for epidural (which has been ordered).  A whopping 1cm dilated. Nothing to do but wait and hope it goes fast.

11:55am - It's very quiet in our room.  Contractions every three(ish) minutes, pain is about twice as bad, trying not to cry.  Not miserable, but I'm feeling ready for the epidural.  Mark is having trouble staying awake, he keeps dozing off.  Not in an annoying way, it's sort of sweet.  I'd be doing the same thing except for these contractions.  Now 3cm dilated.

12:30pm - Mark is downstairs in the cafeteria where I sent him for some lunch to perk him up.  Water is broken.  Contractions are suddenly way way way worse, and I start to feel panicky.  Text Mark to tell him please come back (he's run into a church friend who works for the company who's doing some roofing repair work at the hospital today... honestly of all things; they're having lunch together), eyeball the epidural kit on the counter and regret not asking to have it put in earlier.  Like, an hour ago.  Or yesterday.  Owwwwwwwwwwww.

12:35pm - Even though I swore I wouldn't want anyone to know I'm in labor, I'm sending panicky texts to an incredibly reassuring friend, and I realize for a minute that it's sort of... nice that someone else knows where I am and what's going on.  In that mindset, I decide to distract myself from the pain by checking facebook and twitter and reading something (anything omg it hurts) in my google reader.  This works for fifteen minutes or so.

12:50pm -  I realize I have to wait twenty minutes for the second bag of pre-epi fluids to go in, then call the anesthesiologist who will take who knows how long to get here, then he has to actually do his whole needle-spine thing, then it will be fifteen minutes before it starts working.  Bottom line: I'm still at least an hour from pain relief.

1pm - 2:30pm - This is the most painful part of my labor.  Contractions just under two minutes apart.  Fortunately Mark is a labor expert by now, and he's saying and doing all the right things.  Striking a balance between supporting me, distracting me, and reminding me that I've been through much much worse (which half the time annoys me but at the end of the day it's true and therefore helpful).  I'm crying but trying not to panic. I'm mostly failing.

2:45pm - Epidural is in and working moderately: I'm tingly but not totally numb.  Whatevs, I'll take it.  I feel human again.

2:50pm - Still only 3cm dilated? Really? But it hurts. Why is this not working?? My inner this is why I'm scared of inductions voice starts getting louder. My worry about a stalled labor resulting in a c-section gets more pointed. (Yes, just four hours in. I know, I know, it seems dumb. But with Nathan and Anneliese, I was only in active labor for about four hours total. In my mind, I should be holding Sprout by now!)

3pm - Our nurse finds me in tears, worried my epidural is failing (my numb area is getting smaller... not good), re-doses it, and sticks around for a few minutes to make sure it fixes itself (it does).  In the meantime we chat about our kids (she has eight! three biological and five adopted) and our churches, and she's encouraging and nice without being a cheerleader type.  We love her.  Best nurse out of all three labors, hands-down.  Her name is Catherine.

3:15pm - Mark has a healthy one-sided running commentary going, chattering about how my cervix was slow to open with the other two as well, and then just sprang open super fast when it was ready.  And how the doctor keeps saying that's what's going to happen this time too.  But they're all dumb.  What do they know?  I'm totally going to stall out.  They're going to make me have a c-section.  I'm sure of it.

3:25pm - Catherine walks in and finds me in tears again.  She's worried it's from the pain, but really I'm just missing Nathan and Anneliese and all I can think about is hugging them.  She laughs at me, but in a nice way.  Mark texts my dad to ask for pics of them in the hopes of cheering me up.  My mood swings are all over the place. 

3:30pm - Hmmm could my mood be because I'm ravenous? Food and drink have been added to the all I can think about list.  Normally I wouldn't hesitate to cheat and eat a snack in labor, sure that it doesn't really matter.  But right now I'm so convinced I'm headed for a c-section that I don't eat anything.

4pm - I'm 5cm dilated.  Instead of being glad for some progress, I'm discouraged it's not enough progress.  My OB Dr. Bass jokes that he has a coffee date with his wife downstairs in the cafeteria at 6:25, so we definitely will be getting the baby out before then.  I roll my eyes. 

5:15pm - Still at 5cm dilated.  Sprout is doing just fine in there, but I'm hungry and discouraged and can't shake my ever-growing c-section fears.  I just want to be done with it all and hug my baby girl.  And not have to have surgery to make that happen.  More crying.

5:30pm - Another Nathan has texted me about starbucks, donuts, and sent tweets about popcorn.  He can't possibly know the extent of my hunger misery, but I still want to strangle him a little bit.  But at least for fifteen minutes, I have transferred my labor frustrations elsewhere, and my c-section worry is temporarily distracted.  So... win?

6:05pm - I am looking through texted pics from my dad, of Nathan and Anneliese swimming in his neighborhood pool (love!), trying to ignore the increasing pain and pressure, and... is that an urge to push?  No, that can't be right.  I ignore it long enough to send one or two more texts.

6:08pm - Yep, 10cm.  Time to have a baby.  Dr. Bass tells me she's posterior (not facing the floor like she should be) so I  might need to angle differently to push her out than I'm used to.  Ha!  I don't actually know any different.  Nathan was sunny-side up, and Anneliese presented sideways, facing my thigh.  We laugh a little about how bizarre that is, and how her delivering OB didn't even know what to call it in my chart. At any rate, I'm unfazed by the prospect of a posterior delivery.

6:12pm - Everything is almost set up for me to start pushing, when I remember how much I hate hospital hats.  Before I have this baby, we're getting out different hats. She is not wearing that ugly horrible hospital hat!  Mark is a good sport and finds the hats in the hastily-packed hospital bag.  I have a feeling everyone is rolling their eyes but I pretend to ignore it.

6:15pm - It's so calm.  Unlike my two meconium babies, Sprout has managed not to poop inside me, so there are no extra doctors or nurses or nicu people hanging around.  Just me and Mark and Catherine and Dr. Bass.  Who is surely about to miss that coffee date with his wife downstairs.

6:16pm - I push.  Once.  Mark looks at me, wide-eyed, and says wow good job darlin'!  He seems excited.  Dr. Bass reaches for a bulb syringe (you know, those baby booger-sucker things) and I briefly wonder what the heck he needs that for (um, that tiny thing is not going to be any kind of force against all the mess that's about to flow out of me, for realz) when it occurs to me it has to be for Sprout.  Which means her head is out.  Which means I've pretty much delivered.  Already.  Whaaaaa?

6:17pm - Mark says oh look, there's her little hand.  Um, excuse me?  I've watched enough baby shows on tv to know that's not good.  But sure enough, little Sprout is shooting out fist-first (technically a kind of breech) with her right arm crossed over her chest and reaching up along the left side of her head.  And she's facing sideways (like Anneliese! another one?) to boot!  Well hi there, bizarre presentation.  So Dr. Bass tells me not to push anymore and he oh so very carefully pulls her torso out, working around her shoulder and arm.

6:20pm - Happy birthday, Sprout! :)  She's all the way out, arms and shoulders working just fine. Praise the Lord!

Immediately after delivery, I was oh so happy I got to hold her right away (Nathan and Anneliese's meconium prevented that with either of them).  She was lying on my chest when they cleaned her up, and when Mark cut the cord.  It was a really nice few minutes (well, a lot of minutes... she was quite the gunky little lady).

And I'm happy to say that even though it took twice as long as my other labors, the induction definitely wasn't as bad as I had worried.  And the end result?  Definitely worth it. 

*for Mark and Another Nathan: it's bo time, to be exact

Post-Partum

{Note: finally uploaded pics and posted 8/13; sorry for the delay, photo-clamorers.}

So I am typing this in the middle of the night, in a hospital room, delirious from lack of sleep and knock-you-out postpartum contraction pain.  But Charlotte isn't having any of that pesky sleeping-in-the-bassinet business, so she's in my arms, she's incredibly sweet, and I'm trying to focus on the good parts of being a new mommy instead of the hard ones.

I don't think she likes sleeping-baby pics as much as I like taking them...

Because, for real.  This postpartum recovery has been by far the hardest of all three babies.

One downside of a super-fast delivery (still a story for another day) (but no, seriously, I pushed once) is that Charlotte didn't spend enough time engaged in the birth canal to squeeze out all the... gunk.  So she has spent much of the last day and a half gagging and choking and throwing up a fairly gross combination of mucous and colostrum and clumpy blood.  Nice, huh?

(Oh I'm so glad this is the first thing I'm telling the internet about my new daughter.)

So there's that.

And then there's me.  I am post-epidural itchy (still totally worth it), my back is super sore (three for three on sunny-side-up deliveries), and the post-delivery contractions are more painful than anything I got to in labor.  Yes, I said it.  More painful than labor.  I think every doctor or nurse who has come in here has casually remarked that they do indeed get worse with each subsequent child.  Well, super.  Thanks.  Not helpful.

So, um.  This hasn't been the most awesome of hospital stays.  But with Nathan and Anneliese out of town, Mark has been super-available.  And considering it's our third baby and we both know what we're doing now, he's also been super-helpful and useful and basically a rock star.

except for keeping hats on... he's had a few daddy baby hat fails

Clearly it takes having three children to get the hospital thing down to an art form and work really well together.  We're definitely calling that part a win.

much better, Daddy... now you can have your rock star sticker back

And it hasn't been all bad. 

I mean there's this beautiful sweet baby...

And Another Nathan came with hugs for Charlotte and gobs of snacks and drinks and goodies for Mark and me...

We got to show Nathan and Anneliese their new baby sister on skype...

And oh yeah, that whole beautiful baby Charlotte thing again.

So we're really doing mostly okay.  And we're very excited to bring her home tomorrow!

Happy Birth Day, Charlotte!

Sprout is here!

Charlotte Claire Goettsch,
born August 8, 2011, at 6:20pm,
8lbs 2 oz, and 20 inches long. 

Charlotte and Erin are both doing beautifully!

Waiting for (Stealth) Labor

So I'm now forty weeks and six days pregnant, and ...yeah, I'm there.  I'm ready for baby.  The waiting game is much more pleasant this time around than it was with Nathan or Anneliese (even though it has lasted longer) but I'm teetering riiiight on the edge of impatience.  I'm trying to be a good sport about it, but the truth is I'm pretty much over being pregnant.

The proof?  I finally packed that hospital bag* today.  Let's do this, Sprout.

(Yes, that was  me, wishing for labor.  It has come to this.)

The weird thing about having Nathan and Anneliese and Bowden gone until next weekend is that when I do go into labor, there won't be anyone we need to tell.  No one who needs to check in on the pup.  No one who needs to come over in the middle of the night and cover childcare duties.  Mark and I can just... go.  And I must admit I kind of like that. 

Because if you think I've been easily annoyed by people nagging me now about whether or not I've had the baby (seriously? when we've had her AND we're ready to tell people, we will tell -- it's a "don't call us, we'll call you" kind of thing, just for anyone who might not be aware of that fact and needs to file it away for future etiquette knowledge), as annoying as that whole thing is... I'm really not thrilled with the idea of people knowing I'm in labor.  Which is why it will be a carefully guarded secret, especially now that the kids are happily covered in grandparental love and attention.

(When I went into labor with Anneliese, Nick came to stay with Nathan.  And if there's anyone we can trust to be a beacon of silence when we need him to be, it's Uncle Nick.  Those Goettsch boys are ueber-trustworthy with secrets.) 

Anyway, while some people may take comfort in encouraging texts and emails and facebook comments while they're battling labor, I'm not really like that.  For me, the last thing I want to think about when I'm fighting contractions (and my falling dignity) is keeping people updated on what's going on.  Or worrying that they are worrying if it's taking a long time and they haven't heard from us in a while.  You know?

I just want to concentrate on what will surely be my third mad race to get the epidural in time, on Mark, on resting if I can kill the pain, on pushing, and then on having some sweet time with my new baby girl before I need to interact with the outside world.  Yes, me.  The texting addict.  The internet junkie.  I will want to be cut off from the world while I birth a baby.  Crazy but true.

So it will probably be Operation: Stealth Labor.  Well, as stealthily as I do anything (that's to say, not very).  But I won't be tweeting or liveblogging or facebooking through every centimeter of cervical dilation.  You're welcome.

I do have an induction scheduled for this coming week (no I will not be saying exactly when), but I'm really hoping she'll come on her own beforehand.  I don't love the idea of being induced (mostly because I hate loathe abhor the idea of pitocin, and also I'm worried that if my body's not totally ready, it won't go well and I'll end up with a c-section which I would really really really like to avoid) but Sprout's fluid is a bit low, and that combined with the meconium adventures of my first two babies and our decent certainty about the correctness of my due date, there are a handful of fairly legitimate reasons not to let me go a full two weeks past my due date or anything crazy like that. 

Still, I'm hoping it won't come to an induction.  I like the idea of knowing my body is as ready for labor as the doctors are.  Also I have a weird emotional attachment to the idea of kids "choosing" their own birthdays, coming when the time is right.  Is that dumb?  Probably.  And I will let go of that notion if I do have to be induced, I promise.

But for now?  I'm still praying she'll comes on her own (and soon!)... and trying to savor the last few kicks, the last few days of carrying a baby inside me, since the end of this pregnancy really will be the end of an era.

And now, Sprout and I are jumping in the pool.  It's the cure for all grumpies, didn't you know?

*Ok that's terrible proof because it's still a lie; I totally haven't. I really am ready for her, but we all know that bag is not getting packed til I'm actually in labor, right?

A Tale of Two Days Off

Still pregnant.  Still very quiet around our house with Nathan and Anneliese and Bowden out of town.  Still just Mark and me, killing time and trying to relax while we wait for Sprout.

This is how Mark spent the majority of his downtime yesterday:

hedge trimming, hauling landscaping stones, pulling weeds*



And this is how I spent the majority of my downtime yesterday:

purple polka-dotted it's a girl! pedicure, reading, lounging

Fail or win? 

*If I had a before picture to show you, you'd be even more impressed. I promise.

A Year Ago, A Different Life

I'm feeling weirdly nostalgic today.  My babies, both canine and human, are in Huntersville for the week ten days.  That's longer than I've ever been away from Nathan or Anneliese!  It's nice to have some quiet and stillness here at home, but it might be a little too peaceful right now.

Mark and I keep looking at each other and we don't know what to do with ourselves.  I mean, we have no real plans.  (Obviously.  Baby due any minute.)  (Well, except that pesky hospital bag which still isn't packing itself.)

A year ago today, we were cruising through the Bahamas.  The idea of a third baby had been shelved; there was no Sprout and no plan for her.  There was no robbery or flood or feeling detached from our home.  There was no new house or renovation. 

So last night when we were driving home alone from our dinner date, in our minivan, to a still-feels-kinda-new house where no children or pups were waiting to greet us, with plans to maybe jump in our pool later.... yeah.  I couldn't shake this feeling of who are we??  where are we? and how did we get here??

I'm so excited for Sprout -- to meet her and hold her and bring her home to this house, which I think will help solidify it as home and special.  And don't get me wrong, I like our minivan (more than I want to admit) and I love a weekend with just Marky.  But wow it's hard not to feel like an awful lot has changed, awfully fast. 

It's weird, a little bit.

But I'm going to stop thinking about the weirdness, embrace the changes (they're exciting! and for the better! all of them!) and really enjoy whatever days of downtime I have before I go into labor.  Today I slept well past 10am, and my current to-do list includes internetting, fun shopping with Mark, sitting around reading the last of the Hunger Games books, a movie, and maybe a pedicure. 

Yeah.  Life's tough when your baby is late.

Why I Shouldn't Grocery Shop When I'm Pregnant and Overdue

Alternate title:
Things I bought today that technically, I *might* not really need...

Bucket of caramel-chocolate-covered nut clusters.  Yes, a bucket.

Two slices of chocolate cake with strawberries.

A disposable sippy-type cup for Anneliese with Doc Hudson and Lightning McQueen (neet-ning! yes she can say Lightning better than her own name) on it, that says "turn right to go left!"

Two slices of yellow cake with fudge icing.  I'm pretending these are for Mark.

Costco-sized (read: huge) bag of assorted mini candy bars.

Harry Potter cupcake -- chocolate, covered in icing and sprinkles, with DanRad on top?  Yes please.   

I probably didn't eat it in the parking lot before I drove home.

One gallon of store-made sweet tea with the somewhat dubious expiration date of October 18.

A box of frozen corndogs, because the thought of dipping them in a plate full of ketchup and mustard mixed together makes my tastebuds sing like a chorus of angels.

Yet another case of Izze sodas in blackberry, apple, and clementine flavors.

A frozen latte thing (with extra chocolate syrup) that I ended up not even having to pay for. Best way to get free stuff at the Costco food court?  When the grandfatherly type behind the counter comments that you have your hands full and asks when your baby is due, say yesterday.

And I forgot to get barbecue sauce, the one thing Mark asked me for as I was walking out the door.  I thought about throwing that back on him, well hey, you should have put it on the list...

...but somehow I don't think that excuse would fly today.

Sprout: Due Date Update

Well hi there AUGUST FIRST.  Feels like I've been waiting for this day for a long time.  And also no time at all.  We're here already?  And also, it's finally Sprout's due date?  Yeah, both of those.

So, predictably, I am not in labor.  For any of you who were curious.  Which, based on my inbox and my text log, is a lot of you.  (In the interest of full disclosure, you should know that the next person who asks if I've had the baby yet will be carefully ignored for at least forty-eight hours so you can just sit around and wonder.  Also you're officially unfriended and unfollowed and disowned and never get to meet her.  Seriously people?  It's the third baby!  You should all know better by now!  Don't you think when she comes, and we're ready to tell people, you'll know about it? And see pictures, and be expected to gush appropriately?  Okay then.)

Yes, I am feisty today, thank you for asking.

Anyway, definitely not in labor:

forty weeks!!

But it's okay, I don't mind that she's not here yet.  A month ago if you would have asked me, I'd have admitted that as long as she came after Mark's ASP week, that would be fine.  But then he got home and I was really hoping she'd wait til after Nathan's birthday.  And then we made it through his birthday and I started praying she'd stay put until after my brother's visit.

And now I'm getting really picky. 

I mean, she can come anytime, sure, and I'll be happy to meet her.  But actually... if she can wait until Thursday afternoon when Nathan and Anneliese go to Huntersville for a week with the grandparents, that'd be even better. 

And come to think of it, since my kiddies are going out of town, it might be kind of nice to have a couple of days (dare I hope for a whole weekend?) to myself before I have another baby to take care of.  I'm torn between wanting to maximize easy time with just Sprout so I can bond with her and readjust to having a newborn... and wanting a few days to just hang with Mark.

Yep, mom of the year.  Don't you dare judge me on my due date.

So anyway, round about a week from now* would be super, ok?  Thanks, kiddo.

So what I should be doing today is finally packing a hospital bag (I have a few things washed and tossed in a stack for Sprout, but nothing packed or washed or even listed out for Mark and me).  And also typing up some instructions for Nathan and Anneliese and whoever will be taking care of them, since, you know, in theory I could be in labor at any moment.

But what I am going to do today is spend a few hours at the spa.  Because I want a massage.  And a body exfoliation.  And a foot reflexology treatment.  And anyway at this point, a spa day on my due date (instead of having a baby) is kinda my thing.  True story.

So.  Happy due date, Sprout!  I'm excited to meet you soon, baby girl!!

*Note to bloggity universe: I reserve the right to change my mind about this and get overdue and cranky at any moment.  Thou shalt love me anyway.

Brother Brad in Raleigh

My awesome brother Brad came to Raleigh today!  He lives oh so far away (which I might have lamented once or twice in the past) and I hadn't seen him since my sister's wedding, over a year ago.  He's currently en route to Croatia with his new fiancee (!!) Marija.  Besides wanting to pass out from jealousy, I'm also grateful he made time to drive up for the day during his Charlotte layover, and spend time with us.  And my mom and my sister Ashley (and her husband John) came too!

tentatively bonding with Uncle Brad

We swam in the rain, we talked and visited, we played with the kiddies and let them bond with their aunts and uncles (Nathan decided his future Aunt Marija is "really cool" and spent all day clamoring for her attention), and then Mark grilled us steaks for dinner.

my future sis-in-law and my sister

Uncle John is really good at playing with friend cars

swimming in the rain: that's just how we roll

It went way too fast, though, a blur of dogs and toddlers and food and chaos.  But it was fun and we laughed a lot.  Laughed in a way that only Brad and Ashley can make me.  I love my brother and sister so much.

Brad came home to TWO pregnant older sisters!

I'm so so glad Sprout decided to stay put in there long enough for me to just have some family time today and not worry about labor! 

I was sad to say bye to Brad, not knowing when we'll see him again.  Those are the worst kind of goodbyes.  And even with Ashley it was hard -- the next time we see each other, we could both have new babies!!  Things change so fast.  Mostly I'm just happy for a day with my family though.  They're too rare not to appreciate!

Sprout's Nursery

I am fully aware that I owe the internetz some pictures of our lived-in house, now that you've humored me through all these renovation posts and we're finally moved in and (in theory) settled in our new home.

But, here's the thing.  It's never really clean.  And there might or might not be a few boxes and frames and things still lying around.  And lots of rooms that don't feel "ready" yet.  It turns out most of my nesting energy went into the renovation itself, and I keep feeling like we're not legitimately settled enough to take pictures and post them.  Which probably isn't true, and someday I will get around to it, I promise. 

But for now, pictures of Sprout's bedroom will have to be good enough, so... here you go!

(Before pic from when we first bought the house, click here.)

The purple rug with flecks of hot pink in it makes me insanely happy.  Also I have name-related art gifts coming from two friends* that I won't post pictures of yet, but I'm very excited about those too, and about her walls being a little less bare.  And while I wait, there are lots of other things in this nursery that make me excited to take care of my newest little one in here.

Getting your diaper changed in a dormer window?  Pretty sure she's living the infant dream.  Love all these cloth diapers, stuffed and ready to go!

Stripey crib bedding made from a friend of a friend on facebook who loves cloth diapers as much as I do and runs a sewing business called Fireflies in July.

Still lots of organizing and sorting to do in the closet, but I have a load of clothes washed and ready for Sprout so she has something to wear when she comes home from the hospital.  Okay that's a lie, it's not washed yet and the clothes bins in her changing table (above) are still quite empty.  Her to-be-worn clothes are still in the laundry basket.  But they're taken off the hangers at least.  And they will be washed!  Soon!  (As soon as the other four of us have clean socks and underwear again.  Laundry priorities, people.)

And now, because I have a baby due in two days, I'm going to go pack a bag for the hospital.  Yeah I'm totally doing that.  Probably.  Maybe.  Ahem.

Ultimate Friend Day

Do you see this?  It's a present from Another Nathan.  Yep, envelopes. 

Get this: he planned an ultimate friend day.  Who does that?  Whose friends are awesome enough to do that?  Um, mine apparently. (Be very jealous.) 

Between his insane work schedule and that whole baby-due-next-week thing, we had no idea when we'd have a whole day to hang out and do easy stuff together again.  (And seeing as he was on ASP with Mark all week last week, it was totally my turn for Another Nathan anyway.)  So he planned out a full day of some of my favorite things, and, knowing I don't always *heart* surprises, he instead gave me choices.  Written on post-its (he loves post-its, true story) in envelopes, two choices for each time block.  And that way I could have a hand in how our day played out.

It was like The Amazing Race meets Choose Your Own Adventure.  Except... less nerdy?  For sure.

So we took the kids to the mall in the morning (first stop: starbucks!) and went to a bunch of fun places where we didn't need stuff but could just play and have fun.  (Opposite of running errands.)  We hit the lego store, the Disney store (Nathan spent his birthday dollars on a friend car helicopter), and then went to Build-a-Bear where I helped Nathan and Anneliese make and dress a birthday present for Sprout. So fun.

Then he took me to a new (to me) place for lunch which was delicious (it involved fried pickles, and a sandwich with both fried green tomatoes and pimiento cheese... need I say more?) and an afternoon movie.  Yep, he even arranged for a sitter so we could be out of the house during naptime! At a movie theater! Even when Mark was working!  I kept looking around thinking who am I?  How am I even doing this??  Surreal and cool.

And then we swam with the kids in the backyard until Mark got home and grilled up the dinner Nathan had talked him into making.  Followed by my favorite of all the something sweets in the world: a monster apple covered in chocolate and peanut butter and caramel and chocolate chips and awesomeness.

And now I am going to bed, feeling happy, feeling relaxed, feeling loved, having done almost nothing productive all day and enjoying every glorious day-off minute of it.  And feeling pretty lucky that Mark and I have a friend like this in our lives. 

no pics from ultimate friend day = karaoke pic from six+ months ago instead

I'm sure Another Nathan is reading this now and rolling his eyes that I'm telling the internet and making a fuss (not his favorite).  But I just have to say... hey, friend?  You're great.  You take care of us, you're an amazing listener, you're all kinds of encouraging, you redefine helpful at least once a week, you're sweet and patient with our children, you give honest and supportive opinions, you're creative, you're relentlessly cheerful, and basically, yeah... we love you.  We keep trying to find a way to be as good to you as you are to us, and I hope someday we really can figure out how.  You deserve it. Thanks for a fun day.  :)

Counting Down a Week Without Daddy

You might remember that about this time last year, Mark went on a mission trip/service project in Tennessee, while the kids and I stayed home and fended for ourselves for a week.  Well, this year it's happening again.  Except this time it's Kentucky.

And this time I have a baby due in twelve days. Yeah, that.

But considering both my other babies have been late, and how good of an experience it was for Mark last year, and how he really was hoping to go, we decided to make it work.  (For those who think I'm crazy, please know he's just a phone call away, he can rent a car and be home in eightish hours, and we have people on-call for me, and backups for those people.  We're covered.  It'll be okay.*)

That being said, it has been a weird week for me.  I had a few teary moments when Mark and Another Nathan got to Kentucky on Sunday.  All of a sudden it seemed very real and they seemed very... far.  I was a strange combination of sad and panicky.  Nothing like a husband being two states away with spotty cell phone coverage to convince one that labor and childbirth are imminent, right?

But it's been okay.  Last year I planned a ton to keep us busy during the week, but this year (again with the whole nine months pregnant) I planned a good bit less, just one or two things each day.  Enough to give us something to do, but not exhaust us.  I might have missed the mark a tiny bit.  We're not bored, exactly, but we're definitely feeling a bit isolated (considering they are the ones in The Middle of Nowhere, Appalachia) and ready to have Daddy back.

After three days and dozens of repetitions of the question when are Daddy and Another Nathan coming home? I took a page out of my friend Betsy's book and we made a paper chain to hang in the kitchen and help us count down.  There is a link for each day until their return. 

We tear one link down every morning.  And if my darling oldest child gets tempted to ask again when Daddy's coming back, well, he can go into the kitchen and count what's left on the chain.  (Yep, Betsy is brilliant.)

And in the meantime, we do have fun stuff planned for the week, like watching the pool being renovated in the backyard (yes, you read that right, it's finally happening)!  We've also been to the library and the greenway, and we have some baking plans and playdates for later in the week.  Not to mention a certain almost-four-year-old's birthday to get ready for!

But still.  There's that teensy nagging voice in my head. Sprout, honey, you just stay put, got it baby girl?  Until the paper chain in the kitchen says it's time.

{And speaking of Sprout's arrival, if you haven't had a chance to make your birth date/time guess yet, we're leaving it open til tomorrow (Thursday) night -- if you get closest, you win a prize customized just for you! Read more details here to make your best guess.}

*If, come Saturday, I'm holding a baby I delivered in Mark's absense -- no one remind me I said that, mmmkay?

Poolside for the Fourth (and 36 Weeks!)

Well I'd hoped that we could make a little day trip to the beach for the 4th of July.  But after a very hot weekend, we were all sort of drained. So we decided to celebrate locally in an also-fun-but-much-simpler way: the pool!
Nick and Barbara's neighborhood has a rockin' awesome pool with a slide and lots of kiddie paraphernalia  like fountains squirting from the ground, giant buckets dumping into a shallow-end play area, and raining mushrooms.  And no one seems to bat an eye when we all pile in as their guests. Plus for the 4th, they had a (free!) catered barbecue picnic.

So we all went for a swim together, laughed a lot, and had a fun and easy morning.

Anneliese loves the pool...

...and really loves her Aunt Barbara!

And I'm still loving having a camera that can get very very wet!!

Nathan was predictably nervous at first (especially after he fell and accidentally dunked himself early on) but by the end he was back to comfortably wading through the shallow end and jumping off the side with Daddy.

(That toy is his swimming Lighting McQueen car.  It would really swim (apparently) if we put batteries in it.  But we haven't.  So right now we just told him, hey that's swimming Lightning McQueen, he likes to swim in the pool... and that's good enough for Nathan.  Yep, parents of the year.)

I might have taken my very-pregnant belly for a fun fast ride down a big water slide!  (Photographic evidence intentionally withheld.)  And I even let Mark take some belly shots. I'm officially 36 weeks!  It means Sprout's lungs are very likely mature, and she's pretty much grown.  Yes, another few weeks would be better, but at this point, whenever I go into labor -- she's coming.  No one will try to stop it.  Hard to believe we're at this point already!

(Even harder to believe I just posted that pic on the internet.  Thou shalt not judge the unhottness of the only swimsuit that fits me in my very-pregnant state.  Got it?)

Hey my getup can't be that much worse than Anneliese's.  Green diaper, undershirt painted by a three-year-old, and faux-dressy jelly shoes?  It might be her best look to date.

Anyway, happy 4th and happy 36 weeks! For more pictures of our pool day, click here for the photobucket album.

Patriotic Pudding Pops

I totally did a crafty mom thing this weekend.  Yes, me.
Nathan and I made our own homemade pudding popsicles.*  We made them red, white and blue for the holiday weekend.  And except for the fact that I didn't have any popsicle sticks (of course I don't have any popsicle sticks.  did anyone out there really think I'm the kind of mom who keeps popsicle sticks on hand? didn't think so) and resorted to straws instead (bad idea), it worked out pretty well!

I used gel food coloring, which stains everything, so we ate them mostly naked on the back deck.  Yep, still classin' up the new neighborhood.

We kept having fails with our drinking-straw popsicle handles, so Another Nathan's dad (visiting from Iowa) suggested we stick twigs or wooden skewers inside them to make them sturdier.  Which totally worked.  (And proved, in the process, that everyone on the planet is smarter at crafts than I am.  Well that, or high school science teachers are endlessly creative.  Yeah, let's go with that one.)

Anyway Nathan was very proud of his blue tongue.

But it turns out Sprout is not a fan of patriotic pudding popsicles.  And also that they're decidedly less patriotic (read: lavender) on the way back up.  Hey, if you're reading this blog, these are things you need to know.

*I got the idea from Rachel. Follow that link for instructions. Basically you just make instant pudding, dye it, put it in small cups with a stick, and freeze. I used white chocolate pudding instead of her suggested vanilla. 

July: Nesting... Or Planning to, Anyway

So apparently, it's July!  How did that happen already?  Where did June go?  And how is it possible that I'm having a baby next month???

All of a sudden I have a strong urge to get things done.  Which, um, hello -- is an urge that's been running about a two-month delay (seriously?  where have these nesting instincts been? I was out of control in my third trimester with both Nathan and Anneliese, but this time? I just can't get it up for baby preparation), and is also frustrating because I had a tiny little procedure this week that has left me too sore and exhausted to be productive.  Of course.  Timing fail.

So I am doing what any normal eight-months-pregnant mommy would be doing: devouring the internet, one facebook status and blog post at a time.  But here's what I probably should be doing:

* Cleaning my house.  Which has only been spot-cleaned, one room at a time, since we moved in.  Two months ago.  Don't judge.

* Unpacking boxes.  Yep, every time I think I'm done, I find a couple more.  Right now it's the front hall closet nagging me the most.  It's probably mostly coats, right?  That can totally wait til fall, right?

* Hanging baby clothes, in order of size, in Sprout's closet.  Ahhh, the happy waiting-for-baby tasks.  :)

* Sorting through the multiple bins of outgrown kiddie clothes: a stack for Liam, a stack for Sprout, a stack for donation, a stack for consignment.

* Finding the cookbooks that have been packed and stored for more than six months, and re-inspiring myself on some new (old) recipes.  We're in a dinner rut.

* Buying another boppy.  And boppy cover.  And changing pad.  And changing pad cover.  (All of which I have procrastinating purchasing because I have them on offer for free... from friends who live far away.  So I don't know how to get them.)

* Finally, once and for all, figuring out how to put three car seats into either of our cars, and doing it.  Seriously.  This has been nagging at me since we started trying to get pregnant, and I still haven't made it happen. 

* Sorting through the stack of papers on the desk and try to figure out why I thought I needed to keep them all.

* Finding that hospital registration form and fill it out and mailing it in already.  Yep, it was definitely supposed to be sent before my second trimester.  (Read: six months ago.)  But as best I can tell, having done this twice already, I'm going to have to give them all the information in person again anyway when I show up in labor, which will make me irate.  Maybe "forgetting" to pre-register this time will make me less irate?

* Finish working on the photo album I haven't finished since... our honeymoon.

* Convincing Mark that I totally feel well enough for a day trip to the beach on Monday.  I really really want to be at the beach.

* Throwing away the expired stuff in the fridge and cleaning off the shelves.  Or at least wiping them down. 

* Going through the calendar and the list of people who have offered to help with Nathan and Anneliese when Sprout comes, and officially charting out who is on call when, and oh I don't know, crazy notion, communicating with them about that.

* Sorting through my emails and figuring out what stuff I still need to do for Ashley's baby shower next weekend.  And then doing said stuff.

* Going upstairs and getting Anneliese; I can hear her reading books in her room, wide awake post-nap.  But Nathan (and Daddy) are still sleeping, so... eh. She's fine.

* Picking up the magnet whiteboard that fell off the fridge this morning and is still lying in the middle of the kitchen floor.  I can see it from where I'm sitting.  It's taunting me.  But not enough to make me care.

* Packing a hospital bag.  Or at least making a list for the hospital bag.

* Finding a movie to watch with Mark tonight, because I don't think either of us can take another episode of house hunters international this week. We do love it, but... enough already.

* Emailing Barbara and try to sweet-talk her into window valences for the bedroom of her second niece, because the ones for her first niece were so danged awesome and I'm secretly hoping she's dying to share her mad skillz again.

* Finding the electric cord for the breast pump.  And the breast pump itself.  And making sure I have bags to store the milk that will spring forth thanks to said breast pump.

* Filling out the seller's checklist for the closing attorney on the old house.

* Washing and organizing the bottles and nipples that arrived yesterday for Sprout.  Because yes, I am an optimist and she is going to be the baby who reliably takes a bottle whenever we want or need her to.  She is.

* Getting up to go pee for the hundredth time today.  Okay, this one can't wait.  I have a month still to do the other stuff, right?  Right?

Kissing Cousins

So as of today, I am 35 weeks pregnant, which means there are 35 days left* in this pregnancy. Assuming Sprout comes on time.  Which we all know she won't.  (From the looks of the birthday guesses, you people are just as convinced as I am of her inevitable tardiness.)  And is it just me, or does thirty-five days sound very very close?

Trying not to freak out.  Trying not to make mental (or physical) to-do lists that I am way too hot and tired to complete anyway.  Failing at both of those.

Anyway.  Sprout's arrival is getting closer.  And as my belly is growing, so is Ashley's! 

28 weeks and 33 weeks

(Which doesn't explain why she is suddenly as tall -- or taller? -- than I am in this picture.  I promise in real life I have at least two or three inches on her.  This is not my I-am-tall complex; it's really true!)

It's secretly more fun than I want to admit, having my sister pregnant at the same time I am.  Just yesterday, I bought our babies matching lime green Born in 2011 onesies.  Yep, I did that.  I'm cheesy and I don't care.  I'm excited for us to have babies together!

True story: the first time I saw Ashley after we knew we were both pregnant, she came running into the living room at my dad's (and might or might not have squealed a little) and mashed her belly onto mine and said "my baby wants to kiss your baby!"  And now I think of that every time we hug (or pose for a pic) and our bellies (and babies) touch. 

Kissing cousins.  In utero. 

(It's ok if you don't get us.)

*Oh, the things we wouldn't notice without Merritt in our lives. :)

Eight Months Down, Guess How Many More to Go!

I'm eight months pregnant!  Know what that means?

(Besides the fact that I look like this?)

(And that yes, Another Nathan, you may now refer to me as "very pregnant.")

It's time to guess when Sprout is coming!

This was really fun for our family last time.  I think we had almost forty guesses, spawning almost a month's time, yet none of you (none of you) guessed the right birthday for Anneliese.  Maybe someone will get the actual date this time!

So like last time, we'll give you some background info, then whoever gets closest wins a prize!  We won't pick the prize until we have a winner; it'll be something specifically for that person, so you know you'll like it if you win!  :) 

For those of you who want or need background information in order to make an "educated" guess, here you go:

1.) Sprout's official due date, based on last cycle and assumed conception, is August 1.  I feel pretty sure about her conception date.

2.) In each ultrasound, she has measured a little small -- anything ranging from 7 days to 3 days smaller than average for her gestational age.  So based on size she could be due anywhere from the 3rd to the 7th.

3.) Nathan was four days late and Anneliese was six days late.

4.) My mother's intuition says she will come around the 10th.  My mother's intuition has always been wrong on these things before.

5.) I came on my due date.  I still can't get a straight story on Mark's arrival.  :)

6.) Both Nathan and Anneliese were middle-of-the-night babies, making their first appearances at 1:42am and 1:47am respectively.  Apparently quarter to two is last call in my uterus.

7.) Once again, I will beg and plead and delay as far as possible to avoid an induction.

8.) I am carrying her high, like I did Anneliese, and I don't think she's dropped yet.  I have no idea how effaced or dilated I am at this point, if any, because I am currently beating those exams off with a stick.  (A stick in this case meaning, a sparkly light-up wand with Dora on it, because I am a mommy.)  (Just kidding, it's a hypothetical stick.  You knew that already, right?)

9.) The next two full moons are on July 15 (just shy of 38 weeks) and August 13 (right at 42 weeks).  I officially hope full moons have nothing to do with when moms go into labor.

10.) If I am in labor anytime shortly before or on July 26 (Nathan's birthday), or anytime during the week of July 17-23 (when Mark will be in Kentucky on a mission trip), I have an official plan to squeeze my legs shut and hold her in there.  And it'll totally work because erin-science always does, and also I am stubborn.  So don't bank on a birthday in that time frame.  And if you guess one in there (ahem- Brad), I'm mad at you.  Full disclosure.

You can make a guess via blog comment, email, text, facebook, snail mail, however you can get through to me.  We'll keep track of them on this page.  If only one person gets the date right, that's the winner -- if more than one person (or no one) gets the right calendar date, then we'll chose the winner based on whoever got closest in terms of hours.  You can enter guesses til the end of the day on July 17 July 21.  Make sense?  Ok ready... set... guess!

Newborn Bumfluff

I have been making a diaper buying/selling/trading bonanza out of my life over the past couple of weeks.  Destashing a few things that Anneliese has outgrown (so long, well-loved Rumparooz) or we're not reaching for as much anymore (bye bye, luxurious Goodmamas with too many snaps).

To replace those, I've gotten another handful of newborn-type diapers for Sprout.  The new ones will help get us through the first few months of having two in diapers again, until she's big enough to legitimately share the same diapers with Anneliese.  I got them mostly secondhand, and they'll be thirdhand when I resell them again this fall, but in the meantime they are tiny and adorable and make me very very excited about having another itsy bitsy baby to snuggle with again.

In the meantime, I'm just having to make peace with snuggling the diapers instead.

Just kidding.  I would never do that.  Lying on the couch, covered in adorable squishy diapers while I open and close them, stuff them and unstuff them, smell their clean-laundry sweetness (be proud, Emily, be so proud) and stroke their softness against my face, happily and lazily daydreaming about my baby girl on the way?  That would be crazy. I mean, I probably didn't do that. I definitely didn't do that all afternoon yesterday.

Ahem.

Anyway.

For Sprout I got one more all-in-one BumGenius in a new-baby size (this is the sized version of what Anneliese uses most of the time; hers are adjustable, but really bulky when adjusted down that small).

And four Happy Heinys Minis.  These are like our BumGenius adjustable pocket diapers, just in a smaller-but-still-adjustable size.  They should fit her from birth, and then for at least several months, until she's big enough for our normal one-size adjustable diapers.  (Can you tell I got these from a mom who has a bunch of boys??)

For Anneliese (and eventually Sprout to share) I got another Tots Bots (I bought the last one mostly for the color and then fell in love with it, in general).  This one is bright orange, because, um... go Tigers?

And the other is a normal one-size (adjustable) Happy Heinys.  Yes, I did try these out at the very beginning of my cloth diaper adventure, and I wasn't thrilled with out the way the back pocket opened and didn't close well.  But I'm glad to give it another try, because I have some Kawaiis (BumGenius knockoffs) with that type of pocket and it works just fine.  And also because this purple color?  Is awesome.  I'm dreaming in this color for Sprout's room.  And also, of course, go Paladins!  Our kids need more Furman stuff! (Right Kelley?)

And last but not least, a shiny brand new BumGenius, the staple of our diaper stash.  I won a contest on my friend emu's blog.  For being the best reader/commenter in the blogosphere.  (Just kidding.  It was a random draw.  By her daughter who clearly loves me best.  Kidding again.  But I still won!)  And this diaper was my prize.  She knows me too well.  And knows how cute Anneliese looks with a sweet lavender fluffy bum.

We now return to our regularly scheduled diaper snuggling.