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Apparently my creativity is taking it easy, too-- no special titles came to me this time, not even a good Boring one! Hahaha!

Why is it that taking it easy means a messy house? :D

I usually have to force myself to sit down and take a break, especially with all the nesting going on here! I've had so much fun applying my nesting instincts to every corner of the house! But yesterday and today, my body is driving me back to chairs and couches, being very persuasive in the cause of Relaxation.
I admit I like it. The messy house? Not so much, but it makes me smile because it means I'm taking it easy.
(Although I'd probably smile even more if taking it easy could happen WITH a clean house! Wow!)

I haven't blogged much, and it's not even because we've been busy. Life has taken on an air of anticipation, which completely changes even the busiest atmosphere. I feel like I'm floating* through the days of Waiting, all in a good way. We're close! Scarlett's close! And until she's here, that's probably all I could blog about! :D

*I know! What a choice of words! This belly's definitely not floating! But my mind is, my heart is! Weee!

Who'd Have Thought?

There are a lot of things I feel so grateful for during this pregnancy! It's not only been amazing compared to my first, it's amazing as far as probably any pregnancy goes!

I...

• do not feel huge like a whale. 
• have thrown up a total of only 10 times (all a long time ago by now). 
• sleep quite well and hardly notice anymore the times I wake up to turn over.
• feel great both during and after exercising. 
• feel very mobile and energetic.
• feel patient, not in any rush.
• feel a particularly strong bond with Scarlett.
• feel at peace (and excited) about the upcoming labor and delivery!
• am not worried. When I do think about some concerns I could have, I'm comforted to know that everything is in Heavenly Father's hands. I trust Him.

I'm grateful for the experience I had when I was pregnant with Ender. There's no way--this should be a "given" fact--that I would trade any of it for anything. And I'm grateful that this time is different! Especially because it has helped the rest of the family feel at peace. Their worries are soothed. I'm still not sure I grasp just how much the family could have worried about me with Ender. There have definitely been worse pregnancies, but we had some pretty serious stuff going on. 

What has struck me the most lately is the patience part. I really, honestly feel so happy with the pace this pregnancy has taken! All along it's been just fast enough that I'm always pleased to count off yet another week but not so fast that I feel like I can't handle what's coming. And it hasn't felt slow, ever. I personally find that incredible. 

This hasn't been to brag. It all feels like such a nice surprise, almost, that pregnancy can be so lovely! Women have talked like that, and I trusted that for some women it was just that way. But I never really thought I could "have it all." Or at least feel like I do. Sure, my feet get ugly-swollen, but I don't have preeclampsia, and if I stop being nutsy and just sit down, it helps. Who could complain? 

(Okay...I could...did...but only once or twice!)

Yesterday, I told Ender to look at my belly while Scarlett did some gymnastics. He saw her make a triumphant wallop of a kick, and I said excitedly "See?! Scarlett moved, Ender!" 

He smiled and said "She did." 

And he went back to playing with his LEGOS while Scarlett thumped around. 

How about that! I was still watching. I still think it's cool every time she moves. 

Momming

My parents finally live close by! Not an hour away! HALLELUIAH!

I am loving it (we all are).

I'm especially loving the fact that I still learn so much from my mom; we were looking at a photo on my fridge of a girl's graduation announcement, and I said "I'm surprised her mom's okay with her showing so much cleavage in this picture."
My mom said "Maybe she's not."
Me: "Oh yeah...I just assumed..."
My mom smiled and said seriously "Never do that."

Oops! Thank you, Mom, for the much-needed reminder! Really. I'm so glad she reminded me of that "little" lesson because it's actually quite important!

Another time? I mentioned that Ender had taken to screaming for the entire time period we'd put him down for a nap. She said understandingly "Yeah...sometimes a book can help..." and I just nodded unthinkingly.
But the next day as I put Ender down for his nap, I thought "Oh! A book! She's right!"
Ender looked through his book, quietly singing the ABCs to himself, and quickly fell asleep.

A long time before, I had considered the book idea but cast it aside--a bit selfishly, because I didn't want to relinquish my control...I wanted it to be clear that nap time was sleep time even though I claimed that I didn't mind if he simply "rested." It's truer now than before that I don't mind if he doesn't sleep, but it's also true that Ender still needs those naps.
Books are now part of every nap, so he's more likely to be quiet (and therefore more likely to sleep just about every time).

I'm so glad to have my mom here! So glad that she's still momming me. :) Especially when that includes a nice foot massage for my poor, puffy, pregnantly-swollen feet!

Yours FREE!

Mini Story Time: 

At bedtime, it's part of the routine to give Ender a hug, a kiss, and a "nuzzle." That's rubbing noses (he got the idea from Corduroy the Bear, whom he calls "Pocket"). Sometimes I have lipstick on, and he understandably refuses a kiss then. He thinks it's funny. But he also likes it-- he will often come to me in the day, study my lips, and say "You need red lips." :D 

The End.

I'm in an odd mood this time. Prepare yourself. It might be a little overwhelming. Sometimes when I get like this, I don't know how bad it is for people on the other end.

*     *     *     *     *

I got a letter in the mail from Parenting magazine that says "For Ms. Kate Wahauast only."
Hm. Maybe it has money in it. Or maybe it's the deal of a lifetime. I guess I'll never know, since it's not for me...
Of course I opened it. The deal of a lifetime? If you buy a one-year subscription to the Parenting magazine (the Resource for Moms with Young Kids!), you get two years free and a "special" diaper bag--yours free! Guess what's included in this incredible offer?

The diaper bag, yours free!--excuse me, Parenting Bag, yours free!--which is a free gift with your paid subscription, 

3-year subscription for the price of a 1-year subscription (if you can't do math, that's 3 years for the price of 1! You get 2 years free!), 

And for that unbeatable price, everything that's in the magazine is INCLUDED! Yeah! Don't worry, you'll actually get the magazine content as part of the deal! 

Really, it's marketed that way. Item, Description, Rate... so of course, when you buy the magazine, the "tips, tricks and strategies proven successful by moms like you" are INCLUDED.

There's more. But I'll spare you. I probably should have spared you a little more already.

Does anyone else get a kick out of that stuff? Seriously, who are they going to convince? I ended up with a bazillion free issues of Parenting and AmericanBaby and Baby magazines when I had Ender and I never asked for any of them! Aren't they the kind of magazine made for the waiting room in a doctor's clinic?

...am I on dangerous ground here? Are there some very devoted fans who will unleash their fury on my magazine-directed guffaws? I'm not sure I can bring myself to apologize.

If it consoles your magazine loving conscience, be assured that I've always been a little weird when it comes to magazines. They bore me. Even the cool magazines (which are...?). I'm like my cat Nigel: he didn't like catnip. What cat doesn't?! And what person doesn't like magazines?!
I did go through approximately two phases where I enjoyed perusing magazines. They were, respectively, Brio and Seventeen (Brio was sent to us solely because my papa was an Army Chaplain, not because we were anywhere near being Evangelical Christians). What a contrast, eh? Who remembers Brio, raise your hand! Anyone?
Anyone?
...anyone?
....Beuller?

I browsed those magazines as if I were on an urgent hunt for nuggets of teen wisdom. All I remember is a story from an anonymous boy writer who said one time he and his friends were having fart contests in the locker room and he made the mistake of pooping instead of farting. He was only wearing a towel. His folly was witnessed by all as it...um....
And he was scarred for life. Apparently I was too!

But finally I was overcome by boredom with all the ads and shallow non-nuggets-of-teen-wisdom, and I went back to my deep-thinking Hardy Boys. That is, with the Brio stage. After the Seventeen stage, I went back to my deep-thinking breakfast cereal boxes and "clean-harlequin" Dragonwyck (how's that for an oxymoron? Clean harlequin...aww, I still have a soft spot for that one. Fiery Miranda and her agonizing love triangle had me reading all through the night and waking up in a panic to get back to reading when I accidentally fell asleep for ten minutes).

My point? I know how to pick thought-provoking literature and make the best use of my reading time. :D Why ever in the world would I read a magazine? Who wants to be interrupted by all those ads about the right diaper shape for your baby's unsquare bum and how to get the airbrushed look with walmart creamy foundation? And all those deals for things that are yours free if you buy something?

And who wants to read about a boy propping his leg on the locker bench with just a towel around his waste to let loose what he thought would be the most record-breaking fart of the century with all his chili-scarfing preparation only to surprise himself and his circle of admirers with a massive poop?!

Pff. Magazines. I have better things to read.

Like my Rice Krispies box-- we're good friends. I've almost got it memorized! And the only yours FREE thing it advertises is a movie ticket for "Cars 2" if I buy 4 more boxes of cereal at the price of $3.99 per box!

My Babies

Today I got to rock Ender to sleep while I read "The Little Prince" by Antoine de Saint-Exupery aloud to him. He needed me, and I needed him. I read it to him when he was about 1-- this time around, it's really fun to see what bits and pieces catch his attention and just how much he does understand. We're perhaps more than halfway through with this having been our second session. Each time he has urged me to keep reading when I've put the book down. It's a favorite of mine; this won't be the last time we read it.

I have always loved rocking Ender to sleep. I love to hold him and help him relax. This time, he was so very tired. But he claimed he was hungry (erm, he screamed that he was hungry), so rather than making it a battle, I let him have a little bowl of cheetos, the only solution to his hunger, in his mind. And he was so sleepy that he fell asleep several times with a cheeto in his hand and finally with the last cheeto in his mouth, sticking out halfway. If only someone else had been home to grab the camera for me!
I love to gaze at his dark, long lashes. They were still a little wet from his tears. And he had cheeto crusties all over his rosy little mouth.

Somehow in this last week, it has been more obvious to me how little Ender is. I'm usually impressed with how much he's growing and how big he's becoming (especially when I remember how tiny newborns are in anticipation of meeting Scarlett). Lately, instead, I've been struck by his small features. His perfect little face. His darling childly ways. My boy, my baby. I love this child more than any other in the world, and it's going to be incredible to love another like this and see them love each other. I already know it's going to squeeze the throbs out of my heart.

I do already love Scarlett. It's not even an abstract love, and she's just as bound to my heart as Ender is. But I do think that love will get to leap to a new level when the baby can be cradled in my arms and we can swallow each other with our eyes. Oh, Scarlett. You are loved. You are eagerly awaited.