Thirty Weeks

Today I am thirty weeks pregnant. Ten weeks to go! I am still aiming for my due date. The Boy was a due date baby so it would be pretty cool to have two due date babies. I had my thirty week appointment and am measuring two weeks behind again and lost weight. It's very frustrating for me because I am eating but Dr. U keeps bugging me about that and I am getting really sick of the "you're so small" comments. It feels like because I am measuring small that any complaints I may have about how I am feeling or how uncomfortable I get aren't warranted because "I'm barely showing." It is nice being smaller because I will have less weight to lose in the end and most of my regular clothes still fit. But it would be nice to stop getting the comments about being too small. Some people are just small, okay?

Yesterday The Husband skipped work and we took The Boy to Millenium Park to swim at the beach. Our usual water-lover was not so fond of the water! He didn't like to be in the sand at all and would fuss if we weren't right next to him in the water. We took him to the Splash Pad as well and that made him cry. Granted it was for big kids, not toddlers, but at home he loves to have buckets of water dumped on him but there he didn't want anything to do with the water. But he did love being in the swing at the park! Silly Husband's phone went swimming with us though :-)

Twenty-Nine Weeks

The last week has been filled with crap, no pun intended. The Boy and I have both been pretty sick on and off and, well, I'm sick of it...again, no pun intended. Just when I think I'm starting to feel better something comes along to remind me that I feel like I was hit by a truck.

Baby Girl is a beast in this tummy of mine! She kicks me all the time and seems to always be rolling around. I'm pretty sure she's already nicely head down which is a vast improvement from The Boy since he was head up or sideways or backwards or never in the right position until I delivered, and even then he came out hand first. I have a giant baby butt jammed into my ribs most of the time now which is very uncomfortable for sitting and makes eating not as much fun now. And breathing? I don't think I'll ever be doing that normally again.

I don't mean to complain. I am so happy. I have the most wonderful husband who takes care of me when I'm sick. I have the most wonderful son who makes everything in my life that much better. I have the most wonderful daughter who is constantly reminding me that I am never alone. So many of the pregnant women I have talked to in the last week have been complaining constantly about their looks and their bellies and being fat and I love every minute of this. I guess maybe I had an advantage since I actually lose weight while pregnant, but still - this is the time you're allowed to let yourself go a little and not worry about those few extra pounds. I'm carrying around this little person inside of my tummy - something that is part of me, yet is not part of me. God is amazing in how He forms this little human so perfectly in my body and I don't even have to do the hard work. I just carry her around in my tummy and throw up a few times.

Twenty-Eight Weeks

Today marks the twenty-eighth week of this pregnancy. Right now I'm typing in between giving The Boy bites of Yogurt Melts and strawberry oatmeal. It wasn't that long ago that I was twenty-eight weeks pregnant with him and now he's nearly fifteen months old. After every bite of oatmeal he says, "Num!" and gives me a grin as if to say, "Thank you, Momma, for not feeding me a pile of crap for breakfast."

Sometimes I have to remind myself to enjoy these moments because in twelve weeks The Boy will have to share his time with his sister. While I'm excited and anxious for her to be here, I love my days with my son. We teach each other so many things throughout the day. I teach him silly songs and animal noises; he teaches me to find excitement in the mundane. I discipline him, but he also disciplines me. More than once a day I lose my patience with him and I have to take a deep breath and remember that everything in this world is new to him and he doesn't know any better way to experience life than by jumping in feet first.

Yesterday, The Boy and I did our weekly cleaning at the church. In this particular room, a room for kids age two, there are all sorts of toys that that The Boy loves to chew on and carry around. Almost every week he picks out a toy bottle to carry around in his mouth and immediately finds Scoops from Bob the Builder and pushes him along the floor making "vroom vroom" noises. As I gathered up toys to sanitize and stacked chairs on the table so I could easily vacuum the pretzel crumbs, I realized just how boring it would be to clean the room without The Boy with me.

He holds my hand while we walk to get the vacuum. He holds my hand while I vacuum. He sits on my lap while I wipe down toy food and dishes. What does he do when I organize and clothe the baby dolls? One by one he picks them up, gives them smoochies and hugs, and hands them to me to put on the shelf. It's those moments when I realize that when he's not beating the crap out of his sister he's going to be hugging her and kissing her and teaching her the things I taught him. He's also going to be teaching her the things he learned on his own, like how making Silly Face at the most opportune time can make Momma go from sad to happy in one point three seconds.

I have twelve more weeks to enjoy my days as "just my boy and me" before they become "just my kids and me." Today I'm going to try and figure out what makes the remote control that interesting.

The Joy of Blogging

Blogging is not what it used to be. When I first started blogging it wasn't quite cool, but within a year anyone and everyone had a blog and it was the "in thing." People would post entries about things they thought other people wanted to read about so they could get more comments and more traffic. I blogged for the sake of writing. Yes, I did enjoy comments and traffic, but mostly I just wanted to write and have an outlet for my thoughts and frustrations.

I made a lot of good blogging friends along the way. I actually met a couple in person and spent an entire weekend camping with one. Then things changed. People started getting bored of blogging because MySpace was suddenly the "in thing." After a year of MySpace, Facebook really started picking up fans along with Twitter. Now it seems like no one blogs anymore except for those few people that blogged for what I believe is the right reason - the joy of writing.

This is my fifth or sixth blog. The rest of my blogs have been deleted. I'm not sure why I keep starting over, but I think it has something to do with growing as a person. At certain points I begin to like who I am and not like who I was and I want to erase the memories of the person I didn't like. I may like who I am now, but I can gaurantee that in a year I'll be a different person and I'll probably erase these entries too.

No one comes to my blog anymore. No one comments. I'm okay with that. I don't blog for you. I blog for me. I've always said that and I've always meant that. The blog friends I met along the way that are worth having a friendship with are in my life in other ways, they don't need to comment on my blog to let me know they are there.