No Wonder My Butt Is So Big

Ok, so today I had my 3D ultrasound. I was going to post pictures, but my husband beat me to it. Then he threatened to delete his post when I teased him about it. But, now he can't because I've linked to him. Insert evil laugh here.

Thirty weeks and still truckin'. When this pregnancy began, I was considering just going into labor naturally because the one time I had that experience (Carson), it was pretty neat. But, the more I thought about it the more it made sense that having an induction date was the way to go. We can't very well drag 5 kids with us to the hospital in the middle of the night. And you know that's when it would happen.

Today solidified that decision for me. I am thirty weeks and the baby is measuring three pounds, eleven ounces. Just in case you don't know baby math, that means that this kid will be approximately the size of a Volkswagen at forty weeks. Or around nine pounds. Same thing.

Anyway, I see my doctor on Wednesday and I plan on asking very nicely for a 38 week induction date. Then I will cry and pull his hair until he agrees.

Brown Chalk?

In celebration of Carson's birthday we are having a slumber party. Nicole's daughters, Emma and Claire, are over and we made one huge sleeping bag on the living room floor where they are currently scarfing down popcorn and watching Lady and the Tramp. This is an example of one of the quiet times we have had this evening.

Earlier they were all playing out in the backyard. I checked on them periodically and they were just very busy playing and having fun. Then......I happened to glance out the back door while I was walking by and noticed that Cody was coloring with what appeared to be chalk. No big deal, wait...we don't have any chalk.

My double take revealed that the chalk was brown. You know what's coming, don't you? Oh yes, she was coloring with Junah's leftovers.

She then informed me that "everybody had been doing it." Great.

Then began the hand washing, lots and lots of hand washing.

Well, I Guess You'll Just Have To Wait

I began a post this evening about Memphis and Meyson that was to include some pictures of them together, but apparently blogger had other plans. The photo adding button is not working. I realize that there is probably a more technical term for "photo adding button," and I also realize that there are other ways to do that, but I'm way too lazy to figure that out. So, you'll just have to make do with an ordinary post.

How about another one that contains some "Carson-isms," as they have come to be known around here. She was just full of it on Easter Sunday.

She was having a casual dinner time chat with Nana (my mom) when she suddenly felt the need for a little small talk. She looked at my mother, a mother of three with whom Carson spends a lot of time, and asked, "Do you have any kids?"

At my mom's that day, there were some people that Carson had never met before. As we were leaving I told her to say goodbye to everyone. She came to me a few minutes later and, as if she were telling me a secret, said, "I even said goodbye to those people I don't know. Come here, I'll show you who they are."

And last but not least:

We went from my mom's house to Brad's mom's house where Carson told Mamaw the story of how she got her fingers slammed in a door a couple of months ago, and yesterday her nail had finally fallen off. Mamaw said, "Were you scared?" And Carson replied, "No, I was freaked out!"

Just so you know, normally I would just give up and try again tomorrow if a blogger feature wasn't working. But, I could not do that tonight. I have to keep my mind busy until I am so utterly exhausted that I have no other choice but to fall asleep sitting up. I have read all of the blogs I read, done some searches for books I've been wanting to read...I have even done three loads of laundry in the last four hours! That's desperate.

Why am I desperate? Because Brad and I put an offer on a house today. A real house that may be our very own home in about thirty days. The magnitude of it is exciting and unnerving at the same time. What do you mean I can paint the walls any color I want? We can bring the dog without paying a deposit?!? The roof caved in on the water heater causing a catastrophic flood and we are responsible for the repair? Bring it on.

I'm biting my nails waiting for a reply. I am NOT good at waiting (except when it comes to knowing the sex of my unborn child) so this is killing me. So, if you are not busy, give me a call. I'll talk your ear off until you tell me to shut up.

Brotherly Love

I know that I inundated you with pictures the other day, but I wasn't really done. Meyson and Memphis were just hysterical playing together and I would be doing a great disservice to ignore the overflow of pictures that capture their relationship. So...one more time, many photographs for your viewing pleasure:

Spanich

Cody has decided that Brad should be giving her and Carson Spanish lessons. Yesterday she made them books for the lessons that say "Cody's Spanich Buck" and "Carson's Spanich Buck." Carson thinks she already knows the language and can frequently be heard saying things like, "quantanos" and "cinco seisy ocho." Her accent is actually quite good, her word usage? Not so much.

Brad suggested I find a curriculum and I reminded him that if I were to teach this particular class, that the children would end up speaking Spanish with a Texas accent. He said he thought that Carson's accent was already perfecto. Of course she thought this was worth repeating. Again. And again. And again.

A challenge was in order, so Brad said, "Yo quiero aprender a hablar Espanol muy bien." She replied, "I can't say that."

Guess we'll be writing that one in the Spanich bucks.

If You Don't Like Pictures, Stop Reading Now

In the spirit of Easter, I thought it would be nice to get some family pictures. So, Saturday evening our living room became a photo studio. Nicole bought some lights to shoot my wedding a while back and I borrowed those. As a result, I spent the whole evening cringing and yelling, "Oh the cords! Please don't trip on the cords for the $500 light set-up that does not belong to me!" Really cheered everyone up.

Actually, my goal was to make this shoot go as stress-free as possible, so I started out with zero expectations. I worried for nothing though, as the children came through with amazing patience and great smiles. Most of the time.

One of the portraits below includes Brad and me. This was incredibly difficult because I had to use the self timer. Getting children to look at the camera while there isn't anybody jumping up and down making a fool of themselves behind it is almost impossible. Do you want to know my secret? We put Chicken Little in the portable dvd player and set it on a shelf that sits a little above and behind where the camera was set up. That accounts for the totally zoned out look on Carson and Memphis' faces.

As proud as I was to (finally) capture this shot, my high was short lived when I realized that I look a lot like Maria von Trapp. Now this would be fine if we were living in Austria in 1959, but we're not. However, this picture is about our family, not about me, so if I have to look like a dork to pull off that effect, fine.

Here are the shots we are planning on ordering to display in our home:

But we felt that these were a more accurate depiction of our family:

And, just because it's my blog and I can, here are some close runners-up:

Hope your Easter was happy!!

New Name

Brad and I have baby names picked out. We have had a girl's name for quite some time, and finally settled on a boy's name a few weeks ago. The trouble began when we decided that we love the boy's name so much that it makes us very sad to think about not using it if the baby is a girl.

So, I began my crusade to convince Brad that it's ok to name a girl using a boy's name. I've done it twice. And I don't regret either decision. Also, Memphis was going to be Memphis whether he was a boy or a girl, so it would be ok to do that again, right?

I could see the problem if I was suggesting that we name our boy Sally or Mary (so sorry for offending you if you are a guy with either of these names...really, they're very cool names...seriously) or something like that, but this is totally different, right?

I could get hostile and remind him that I'm the one sacrificing my body to bring this kid into this world and I have every right to demand name privileges, but I'm waaaayyy to sweet to do something like that, right? Ok, don't answer that one.

I have to detour for a moment. Bear with me please. I had every intention of posting our name choices here when I began this entry. But as I write, my paranoia is kicking in as I imagine every expectant parent reading our names and realizing what incredibly brilliant people we are for coming up with such amazing names. They will wonder where we've been all their lives and one by one they will use our names until every child born in America between now and September will have the exact. same. name.

Ok, ok, my sanity is returning now. I will pose one last question. One that I very much want your opinion (if you agree with me...) on. Silas is not too masculine to be a girl's name, right?

And just for a little incentive, I'll post full names soon.

My Husband Has Started A Blob

He just informed me that he was going to "lagel my blobs" and I thought I would link to him in case you are interested. Yes, he did have dreadlocks in a former life.

History in the Making

I NEVER do this, but I guess there's a first time for everything, right? I just cut off more than a foot of hair and I have finally, officially entered the third trimester of this pregnancy so I thought a picture might be in order. If you are reading this, look quickly. I may change my mind and delete this post at any time.

All Things Curly

This is how Cody and Carson went to bed last night:

They LOVE having curly hair. Cody loves it so much that she has been occasionally sleeping in sponge rollers since she was about 13 months old. At the time, she loved having Nana curl her hair and I never thought she would actually keep the rollers in all night. She did and has been begging me ever since to do this for her all the time. This was Carson's first experience, and I have a feeling there are many more to come.

I captured Carson's results, but Cody eluded me. I'm sure it won't be long until I have her in curls again, so I'll make sure to get her to stand still for a moment.

The beautiful curls:

This picture made me think that Carson may be a natural model:

Ummm...ok so maybe not:

Mascara's Law

Delivering Girl Scout cookies was our task this afternoon. I made sure my hair was brushed and that my makeup was still semi-in-tact. I then made Cody brush her hair for the fiftieth time today and put some socks on under her shoes. Why do I have to tell her to do that EVERYDAY? You would think that after the third or fourth time she would realize that I don't want her wearing her shoes without socks. But I think today makes the 247th day this winter (yes it's been a long winter) that I have had to remind her to do this.

The point is, I wanted us to look somewhat put together while we delivered people's edible treats and ran off with their money.

Our first delivery went very well. Then a couple of things began to unravel. You know that commercial from a few years back? The one where the people who are wearing contacts are making incredibly silly faces? And the tag line reads something like, "Aren't you wearing contacts so that you will look better?"

I could have been the poster child for that ad today.

I was driving down a pretty busy street when something flew into my eye. I assume it was a shard of glass. Or maybe a chainsaw. Whatever it was, it immediately found the edge of my contact and snuggled up underneath it.

This caused my eyes to tear excessively. Apparently my tear duct thought my eyeball was on fire. There was so much tearing, in fact, that I could not get a "grip" on my lens. Not that I had much time. My eyelid had gone into shock and would only open in an extremely involuntary manner. In the meantime, I'm trying to keep my behemoth of a vehicle between the stripes while going 45 mph.

I finally coaxed my lid open long enough to snatch my lens out, but now I'm driving with one very clear eye, and one very unclear eye. Oh, and I was balancing a contact precariously on my finger. Why didn't I pull over? Because. Because that would have involved changing lanes in the direction of my very unclear eye.

But, what's this I see? A red light? OH THANK THE LORD! A RED LIGHT! Don't think I've ever said that before. I came to a stop and before I can even get the mirror down...yep. The light turns green. Ok, ok. Just shove that lens back in. Quick.

Thankfully, whatever was in my eye now felt more like a pair of scissors as opposed to a chainsaw and I was able to get where I was going safely.

Upon arrival, I whipped the vanity mirror down to inspect the damage. Shouldn't be bad, I told myself. I buy waterproof mascara. HA...HA...HA...

I guess waterproof means that if your eyes tear for more than a few moments, the mascara will run, BUT when you lick your finger and try to rub it off? Nope, that stuff is gonna stay put. Should be called spit-but-not-waterproof. So for all of you who wondered who had punched me in the eye today when we delivered your cookies, this story should satisfy your curiosity. Happy?

The Thrill

As a parent, I'm never really sure how much of what comes out of my mouth actually sticks in my kids' brains. Sometimes I feel like I could talk all day long and they would never hear a word I say. Wait...that is what happens! Cody and Meyson are especially exasperating because I can physically make them look me in the eye when I tell them something and five minutes later they won't even remember having talked to me.

But, I did get some validation today. Last week we had a small unit on eyes and sight. We talked about how the eye should work, read a simple biography on Helen Keller, and even made our own Braille out of salt dough.

Today while riding in our humongous new car (more on that later), Meyson told Carson to look at the sun. Carson immediately said, "Meyson, do you want me to be blind like Helen Keller?" to which Meyson laughed and replied, "No." And Carson said, "Then don't teach me to look at the sun!"

I was cracking up in the front seat, silently celebrating the victory of knowing that one of the kids remembered something I taught her about. Just enough fuel to keep me going for awhile.