Countdown...

Seeing as how Miss Avery will be considered "full term" in less than a week, we've been in a mad panic to accomplish things around the home. While I have taken over internal abode organization, Adam has attacked the yard. Unfortunately, we don't have a good before picture of our entrance to the house without cars in the way, so it's difficult to compare all that he has done. Basic before: sparse grass, lots of clay. Basic after: new gravel rock-lined paths to front and back doors (we don't know which is which--if you come over, just come to a door, and we'll let you in), new shade garden which included tilling, weeding, spreading turkey poop, tilling, spreading more turkey poop, tilling again, mulching, planting and a fun new willow hedge. The border was intended to keep the pups out. It did not. Adam put some white flags from the invisible fence in there, and they've stayed far away. If only the deer could be so trainable.

I forgot how long minutes become in the final weeks of pregnancy. I'm going to try not to complain here, as I've probably hit my quota thanks to Amy, Adam and Laura's willing ears. Let us just say that I'm less than a pleasant or even tolerable version of myself. I'm getting on my own nerves; I can't imagine having to live with me. I do, however, have to say that comparably, I am much better off than I was at this point when pregnant with Gracen. You can still see the bones in my feet and ankles on most days, and my knees are still distinguishable between my lower thighs and calves. Before, it was one long, solid, ugly trunk of pitting edema. All I can say is that ALFALFA ROCKS!!

The closer we get to Avery's arrival, the more confident I feel in our decision to have an out of hospital birth. While I am disappointed that we won't be able to have a home birth (Adam is not), I am happy to know labor will be allowed to occur as naturally as possible with little to no interventions. And it's nice to know that we'll be able to leave within a few hours afterwards, assuming all goes well. There's a piece of me that is even looking forward to the familiar pain again. This time, I know the intensity of it, but also know that I am capable of accepting the pain and my animalistic instincts and bringing a baby through it. Please don't imagine that I "accepted" the pain gracefully. I was moaning and screaming like a crazy person, and if I could have remembered how to talk I would have had someone drive me down the road to the hospital and begged for some general anesthesia. My goal is to go into the process a little more composed and relaxed. And if the crazy monkey me returns, that'll have to be okie-dokie too.

I'm sorry for no pics of the princess. The batteries have died in the camera. I have batteries, but in my "organization" I seem to have forgotten what I've done with them. Okay, she's begging for some stwawbees and huwus (strawberries and hummus), so I should go assist...

pics...

Cutie-patuties go to the zoo (looking at elephants)...Dinner for two...Cuteness crawling over the couch for the 87th time that day...

Ouchie.

I appear to be top heavy. And not in the very fun oh-my-goodness-check-out-what's-happened-to-the-'girls' sort of way; rather, my big ole belly seems to have altered my center of balance, and I fall down, go boom. Gracen and I were feeding the dogs the other morning on the porch. I was being lazy and didn't feel like opening up the baby/dog gate (though it is a very simple thing to do). Instead, I opted to lean over the gate and put the food on the top step, which I have never done. I also didn't take the time to reason that this was probably an unkind and awkward place for the pups to eat. Harley's food went down to the step just fine. Athena's, however, turned into a bit of a calamity. The gate, which my belly was apparently resting upon, crumbled under the weighted pressure and fell forward onto the dogs. They quickly bolted, and the gate continued it's decent down the stairs with me upon it. The belly was safe all the while--don't worry Mother. The most difficult part was trying to figure out how to actually get up from gate upon stairs, which was left on an incline from stoppage from the landing while my head was hanging down and my legs were still four steps above me. After getting it together and becoming vertical again, I turned around to Gracen staring at me, saying "Mama fall ('faw'), Mama hurt ('huwt')." And then she cried for me. I love her.

I think I'm going to put myself on bed rest for the next five (or TWO) weeks.

Blogger is being stupid and won't let me add pictures. Sorry. I'll try again later...

hiya!

I find it rather sad that I seem to only be capable of blogging once a month. Life with an almost two-year-old is all consuming, and if I ever have a moment to myself, I find I collapse and fall into an immediate slumber. I would like to promise to do better. I’ll not.

The following will just be some randomness from this past month. My brain is a big ol’ pile of mush, and my word retrieval is _______(I can’t think of the word).

A few minutes ago, Gracen tried to feed Avery a plantain chip through my belly button. She’s showing some wonderful big sister qualities these days. Please refer to our Picasa photo site for April to see her in action with lil’ cuz Zachary. Also, I have recently learned that I can upload my videos directly to Picasa, so I’m going to give up on my YouTube video site. Simplify.

Gracen has become rather obsessed with the joy of water these days. It began with Walker and her playing with soapy water on the patio and has somehow morphed into bathroom and kitchen sink bubble baths for her toys. Everyday. Froggy got a bath today in the bathroom sink while I was busy changing sheets (sidenote: it is not easy to change sheets 8 ½ months pregnant). It turned into 45 minutes of severe crying and depression as he hung over the tub to dry. I even brought out Froggy #2 (he had been recently washed but more recently peed upon and was in the launder lineup again) as an attempt to calm her spirits, but he was too bright, too green, too smelly of pee. Actually, the funky smell is probably the only thing she found comforting about him.

On another Froggy note, we have been very careful not to have both Froggies accessible at the same time. A few weeks ago, however, she discovered #1 in the laundry as she was holding #2. We really thought this would be catastrophic and that her little universe of toddler reality and order would just collapse around her. Not the case. She fell into the floor laughing and has since demanded that both Froggies accompany us everywhere we go. I’ve been trying to break the cycle of Double Dodgy (G-word for Froggy) over the past few days, which is perhaps why today’s event was so “emotional.”

(It is now “tomorrow” and I still haven’t finished this damn post.)

I’m just going to quit writing and leave you with some pictures. Perhaps my eloquence will return tomorrow…

In training...

We spent some time in Asheville recently. It was wonderful, as always. Gracen loved being with her Ghi-ghi and Pops (G-word: Pots). And we got to see our favorite Colorado family!!

Hello handsome...

I can NEVER get them to look at the camera!! Too, too busy to be bothered with such trivial things as documenting their toddlerhood...

We received a letter from our niece Katelyn. Her 2nd grade class had been reading Flat Stanley, and she sent us a Flat Katelyn to have an adventure. Gracen wanted to take her boating (I refused), took her for a drive (in park), and then had to bandage her up (she ripped in two). We love you Katie Lady!!