Weird.

What does it mean when your three-year-old is carrying around a bucket full of toys, announcing that it's "dog poop and vomit"??

So I had a baby...

Last Thursday, August 27th, Will joined the family.

My observations so far: he's very happy. He pretty much needs to eat, and then he's happy. He doesn't get mad when his diaper's dirty, he's not fussy. He doesn't so much like bath time, but then, I'm betting he'll like it better when he can actually be in the water. It's just sponge baths until his umbilical cord falls off.

I haven't blogged since his birth because, well, my life has been revolving around my breasts. Nursing, pumping, etc. And, though I could talk/write about breastfeeding (and my struggles with it) for hours, I won't. I've subjected Bob to probably more than he can stand. But in a nutshell, breastfeeding was not going well, and now it is. I'm glad.

Today...

I will have a baby.

I'm being induced at 11:30. This is just too weird. I really don't like having it scheduled, but I'll address why we're doing it that way in another post.

So ... even though this isn't the ideal way I'd like to go into labor, I can't wait to meet the little guy!

One Hour Photo

I often think of myself as the "one hour photo" type ... by which I mean that I don't like to wait. (Do you remember when you dropped off your film and had to wait at least a couple days, if not a week, for your pictures to be developed?) And, with the efficiency of today's technology, even one hour seems too long to wait for photos ... to me, anyway.

That said, 40 weeks is a long time to wait for a baby to be born. Granted, for a couple of those first weeks, I didn't know I was pregnant. (Technicality: based on how the OB-GYN world counts pregnancy, you're actually NOT PREGNANT for about the first two weeks that you're "pregnant." Go figure.)

So, I'm 38 weeks pregnant today. I've been having contractions off and on for at least a month. I had contractions all night last night, some of them relatively painful. I got excited, hopeful. I sat up from 3:30-5, timing them. They were coming 4-5 minutes apart. Not bad. But they didn't get any "worse" or stronger, so I went back to bed. I'm not in labor. And as a result, I'm in a really grouchy mood. It doesn't help that I'm tired, that my parents left today after a brief visit, that my dog ate (yet some more) of my home-made bread, that my washer has been out of commission for THREE WEEKS...

And while we're talking about the washer: I had the appliance guys come out three weeks ago today. They said they needed to order a couple parts, that it would take a couple of days, maybe a week. Of course, that seemed too long for Miss One Hour Photo, but I sucked it up and did laundry at my mother-in-law's, which was nice, except for all the hauling that involves. Every day that I didn't hear from the appliance guys, I would think, apparently over-optimistically, maybe they'll call tomorrow! Finally, Bob called them. Turns out a part is on back-order. Honestly, I do not understand why they didn't let me know this. Ugh. It would have been helpful, as the piles of laundry got taller and taller, to know that I should go do laundry somewhere, and not hold out hope that I'd be doing it in my own basement the next day or so.

Seriously, what were they thinking? And I don't even know if there's an estimate on when the part will arrive. But I am NOT HAPPY. Come on guys. Get my freaking washer fixed for me already. I do not want to bring a new baby home to a house filled with dirty laundry...

And may that new baby come soon...

Susan.

It seems a little crazy to blog about someone I've never met, but...

I came across Fat Cyclist at least a year ago, and I've been reading his blog faithfully since then. I'm not a cyclist, not particularly interested in cycling, but he's a good writer, and I've enjoyed reading his blog.

His wife Susan has been battling breast cancer off and on since 2004. In 2007, they learned that it had metastasized, eventually reaching her bones, lungs, and brain. She had a mastectomy, chemo, several rounds of radiation, and more chemo. Eventually, there was nothing more they could do for her, other than try to reduce her pain. But how do you reduce the pain of a woman who wants to live? Who loves her husband and wants to be there for her four children? She fought and fought and finally died August 5th.

We've been praying for her and their family, and I'm grieving for them, despite the fact that I've never met them.

I like that Elden (aka the Fat Cyclist) felt out of control, looked at the situation, and decided what he could control. They moved so he could take a job with better benefits so that she could have the best treatment available. And he started fighting cancer in the only way he could: he used his blog to create a LiveStrong team of over 500 members; to date, they've raised over a half million dollars. This is both the largest team and the largest sum of money ever in the LiveStrong challenges.

When people question the value of blogs, I feel I can cite his as an example of good. He's done a lot of good through his site, and a lot of people who are fighting cancer (or who have loved ones fighting cancer) have been encouraged in their fight. On his end, he's received tons of encouragement; Susan loved what he was doing; and being able to write about it has been good therapy. That, and cycling.

I realize this has nothing to do with my family, or my house, or this blog ... but perhaps you might say a prayer for the Nelson family out in Utah? They could use it.

The Tortoise and The Hare

I have two little girls. One of them is my tortoise. She is so slow it drives me crazy! A simple task, like climbing into her car seat, could take forever. So could putting toys away, washing her hands, throwing something in the trash can, etc. She gets side-tracked, stops to think about things, comments on everything she sees, and often forgets what she was doing. She comes by this honestly. It cracks me up to watch Bob mow the grass; I'll see him stop, with the mower running, and just look at the house, thinking, I'm sure about all the things we need to/plan to do to it. And, eventually, he'll start moving again. I'm much quicker at washing the dishes (and the floor stays dryer) because I don't hold dripping dishes over the floor while I finish a couple thoughts. Not that he does that, of course.

The other little girl is my hare. That girl does not slow down, ever, unless she's asleep. She takes after Bob's mom, who goes a mile a minute most of the time. She's also a little accident-prone, like her grandmother. She's often running into things, falling off things, etc. (Okay, so I do that, too! But she still gets it from my mother-in-law.)

Anyway, it makes for a constant tug-of-war: Caroline, hurry up! Lucy, slow down! Neither of them, of course, are moving at the rate I want them to. It should be interesting to see where this little boy fits into the spectrum. By the way, I'm due in 35 days. 35 days. Good grief. I'm excited. I'm ready, emotionally. I can't wait to meet him. But... we have so much to do! If he came today, the poor kid would have nothing to wear. I'd be able to set up a bassinet for him pretty quickly, but my bassinet sheets are all pink or purple.

We need to get hoppin'.

A Day of Fun

Yesterday, Bob was headed up to Chicago for a meeting with one of the nuns (his company is owned by the Franciscan Sisters of Chicago), and he invited the rest of us to tag along for the day. Of course we said yes.

We had an uneventful 2 1/2 hour drive up there, though Lucy only fell asleep shortly before we arrived, and Caroline didn't fall asleep at all. Then, we parted ways: he to his meeting, and us off to find some lunch. Of all the opportunities for good food in Chicago, I think (hope!) this was the crappiest. Nonetheless, it fit my criteria, since I'm 34 weeks pregnant, not so full of energy, and pushing an awkward double stroller: it was relatively close, there were no steps to get in, and it wasn't too crowded. That should have been a clue. Ugh. I actually called my mom after lunch to complain about how bad it was, from the food, to the environment, to the other customers, etc. (I mean, really, if you were the only customer, and you hadn't sat down yet, and a pregnant lady struggled in with a double jogger, would you STILL take the only table, rather than sitting at the bar-height counters with backless stools, where, clearly, a responsible parent could not seat her young children??? Would you? Tell me you wouldn't.) (Clearly, I'm totally over this already.)

Then we walked to a delightful little park where I sat in the grass, in the shade, and watched the girls run and burn some energy. They had a great time, and they definitely chased their fair share of pigeons. We even fed the pigeons (shh! don't tell!) the rest of the girls' crappy sandwich from lunch. The pigeons liked it.

At that point, I was feeling like I was wasting my time in Chicago ... I can get bad food and sit on grass at home! So we headed off to Tiffany & Co. Thankfully, Caroline fell asleep, and Lucy had a great time (lots of shiny things to see) while we waited for them to clean my ring. I go in once or twice a year, and it's amazing how shiny my ring is when they're done with it. That, or I just think it is, since I know they cleaned it...

Bob called then, having just finished his meeting, so we headed over to meet Sister Frances Clare, who was very sweet. You have to like a nun who gives you a hug immediately and is clearly sincere. She told us how the valet parking guy never knows what to call her, so her car is usually listed under The Nun. Sometimes The Nun Clare.

And then... after a quick trip to Starbucks to get the girls some whole milk (for Lucy) and soy milk (for Caroline), we got on a bus and headed up to the Lincoln Park Zoo. I'd looked up bus routes, and I thought I had a pretty good idea of where we were going; nonetheless, I'm sure it was obvious that we aren't from Chicago. I didn't have correct change, getting the stroller on and off the bus was less than smooth, and we weren't exactly sure where to get off. But, since I didn't feel like walking a mile and a half there, then strolling the zoo, and then walking a mile and a half back, the bus was a great option. And cheaper than driving there and parking.

The Lincoln Park Zoo is free. This was nice, as we were trying to keep the cost for the day pretty low. However ... Bob and I both agreed that if they charged about $15 or so for admission, the experience would probably be a lot better. Too many people! And some of the adults were behaving as badly as the children. I could not believe it when I saw adults banging on the glass of the exhibits, trying to get animals to look at them so they could get a good picture. Wow. We also concluded that they'd probably have more funding to fill some empty exhibits if they had an entrance fee... All that said, however, I loved it. It was beautiful, the animals were incredible, and Caroline had a great time. Lucy finally fell asleep, so she didn't see everything, but it was definitely worth it. I may have enjoyed the landscaping more than the animals, but that's ok with me.

The plan was to then walk down to Navy Pier, where the Children's Museum is free on Thursday nights. However, it started raining, and we took refuge under some scaffolding, and finally, I got tired of being on my feet, so we just headed back to the car. We drove out to Oak Park and ate at a fun little Italian cafe (pizza, followed by gelato), and then headed home. What a day. Exhausting, but oh, so memorable, and fun. I think my favorite part (and I wasn't even there! I was sitting on a bench, resting...) was when Bob and Caroline were exploring the Waterfowl Lagoon at the zoo, and all of a sudden, she got so excited because she saw some flamingoes. Bob didn't see them, but he followed her, and sure enough, there they were. She was in heaven, even though Bob said they reeked to, well, high heaven.

Next time we go, we're going to ride the El. I know a certain almost-three-year-old who would love it. As it is, she keeps talking about her ride on the bus yesterday.