An Open Letter to My Uterus

Dear Uterus,

As you know, we have been together for some time now. Thirty-nine years to be exact. I feel as if I have treated you well over the years. I've always kept on top of your health and never put toxic chemicals in my body that would make you do things you didn't want to do, nor were you designed to do. I've let you do - your thing.

And while you have been extremely cranky once a month for many years, I have rarely complained. I have always given you Advil or Tylenol to make you and I both feel better. I have always looked out for you.

You have been very efficient in the childbirth process over the years. You have never become cranky, acting up, before the allotted time and when it was time, you've done your job smoothly and swiftly. You were a little overzealous this last time at the end of labor and decided you were going to do the job without my assistance. But once again, I forgave you as I know that we were both tired and you just decided to get the job done.

So why this letter, you ask?

For the first time ever, I feel as if you deceived me this last Tuesday evening. For the first time ever, you messed with my head. For the first time ever, you played with my emotions and frankly, I'm a little mad.

You gave me contractions for many hours. And not just the Braxton-Hicks kind, which you know I pretty much ignore. No, you gave me the good-strong-this-is-labor kind of contractions. So much so that I even contacted my midwife. You had me convinced that Tuesday night was thee night.

You fooled me, my little ovum loving friend. And then you stopped. But not until 2 am. When I was good and tired.

I bet you got a good chuckle out of that, huh?

Ha ha, let's mess with her head and wear her out and then stop!! It'll be funny!

Not funny, dude! Not one little bit!

At any rate, I'm writing you to ask you to please stop the funny business. You got me. You got me good. I was fooled. Joke's over now would you please step up and get the job done? A few hours of work will greatly benefit both of us.

I get the baby and you get to go back to your once a month duty - and that's not even for a while! You get a vacation!

After the baby is born you'll get to lie around and be flabby for a while. Actually, I will too. See? It's a win win situation. All you'll need to do for a few days is contract occasionally, clamp back down and your job will be done!

At that point, the Mammary Gland Gang will have to do most of the work and the REM folks in my brain will be doing all the suffering. Not to mention our little Hormone friends. There's a lot of friends armed and ready for action, they're just waiting on you!

Is this an attention seeking thing? You realize your time is coming to an end and now you're yearning for extra attention? You will get your props, my friend, I promise. But if you try this deceitful joke again, I'm afraid I will no longer be able to trust you. When you actually mean business then I might have to ignore you and that could be bad.

Do you realize the ramifications of me not trusting you? We could end up with an unassisted birth! A birth in Phil the Suburban! Or worse yet.. A HOSPITAL BIRTH! Do you want that? Do you want your other uterus friends to whisper things behind your back? Things like:

"Michelle's Uterus cried wolf and then messed up the WHOLE birth!"

or

"Did you hear that Michelle's Uterus couldn't be trusted and didn't get the job done?"

Oh they will say these things, my friend. Uterus's can be cruel that way.

In closing, I just want to say that I still trust you. We've been a good team over the years and you haven't let me down yet. Please don't start now. No more funny business, alright? We've got a job to do, now let's just do it.

And sooner rather than later would be ideal. I mean it's the least you could do to make up for the wicked way in which you behaved this week.

I'm ready now. So contract, please.

Much Love,

Michelle

Oh, I Am So Ready and Other Not So Interesting Random Things

Well, the 38 week mark is here and I am MORE than ready to have this baby. It's not because I'm tired of being pregnant because I'm not. For the most part I feel great.

So why then?

Because I just want to meet this baby!! I want to know if it's a boy or a girl!! (which, by the way, I still am having absolutely NO inkling as to the sex of this child. Don't tell me God doesn't have a sense of humor!!) And I am just SO ready to hold him or her that I can't see straight!

I want the kicks to be on the outside. I want to count fingers and toes. I want to put his or her little neck to my nose and breath deeply. I need me a baby fix, y'all!

And if you must know....this thing is getting HUGE!!

See...



















And my dear Monk would like for his baby bump to go away too.



















He is such a good humored man, aint' he?

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In other news, if you would like to make homemade dinner rolls for Thanksgiving, then you simply MUST give these a try!

Helllllooooo? E-A-S-Y!!

I didn't make them in the bread machine like it says because frankly, I don't like bread machines, but it was easily modified. As a matter of fact, the commenter's on the recipe give step by step instructions as how to modify it.

These are SO simple and SO delicious! I kid you not! It's like crack for carbohydrate addicts!! (Not that I would know anything about either!) Monk has informed me that I am more than welcome to "practice" making them any time I would like. *NOTE: See above picture.

The WHOLE family loved them! Well, except Livvy. And that's pretty much because when I made the Pumpkin Rolls she pretty much threw up the one she was eating about 5.8 seconds after she ate it. So I'll cut her some slack in her Roll Judging abilities.

Oh, and there would have been pictures, but those suckers were almost gone in about 15 minutes! G'head, ask Monk how many HE ate?

***********************************

And I simply MUST tell you all that the beast, Harley, graduated from Beginner Dog Obedience class last night. Not only did he graduate, but he graduated at the TOP of his class. He beat out all the other dogs in his abilities and took home all the prizes.

Our big, dumb lug intelligent canine and his Master. Monk looks thrilled, huh? As far as that goes, so does Harley.



















Actually, he didn't take home all the prizes because Monk felt so sorry for all the other stupid less talented dogs that he gave all of Harley's prizes away. He did, however, keep the Doggie Poetry Magnets.

We've been attempting our hand at Doggie Haiku all day.

So, tell me this...if the dog can graduate at the top of his dog obedience class and do all of these wonderful, smart commands, then why in the devil does he still feel the need to eat cat poop out of the litter box?

I'm just sayin'.

*****************************************

And finally....(y'all are breathing a collective sigh of relief now, huh?...)

I hope y'all have an absolutely Blessed Thanksgiving!

Be thankful for all that you have and know that it comes from a good and gracious Father above.

I Thess 5:18 ... in everything give thanks; for this is God’s will for you in Christ Jesus.

(Oh, and keep praying for that Thanksgiving baby!!)

Why Yes We Do Let Our Child Sleep in Awkward Positions on the Floor

Hey, it's a nap, right?















And she was just so doggone cute that I simply couldn't move her.














And I didn't.

I may be hormonal, but I'm not crazy. (No comments allowed, Monk!)

Just Resting

In Momma's bed, asleep on Momma's very pregnant belly. Life can't get much better.

(And no, it wasn't a bare belly, it just looks that way. It was a white shirt. A very streeeetttcchhhhed white shirt. Like, you could bounce quarters of off it.)

Well, we're getting down to the wire here and am I ready??!!

Nope.

But you know what? I'm just not going to stress about it anymore. God has been more than gracious to me these last months and I'm sure that His grace will continue to abound over the next few weeks.

Slow and steady wins the race sometimes and that's pretty much how I've been functioning the last few days. While I've been a total peace about the whole labor and birth, my spirit has been frantic with everything I have left to do to prepare for this baby's arrival. I have finally put that franticness (why yes, I did just make up that word!) to rest.

After spending several days recovering from the stomach flu and then two more days laid up with a bum foot (from the pizza sauce jar that fell on it), it finally dawned on me, "hey, maybe God just wants me to rest". And so that's what I've been trying to do.

There is still plenty of cleaning and organizing left to be done, but it'll get there. Eventually. It already is. But I figure wearing myself out trying to get "ready" for the baby isn't really going to help me out when I actually, you know, have the baby. Pushing babies out when you're dead dog tired isn't recommended by most midwives. In addition, tired Momma's and newborn babes are not a good combination.

So, I guess you could say I'm resting AND nesting. Still doing, but not at the frantic pace I was before. Just trying to enjoy the last few days of having this big 'ol belly and resting in the fact that God is in control.

But all the same, if anybody has seen the brand new, white, newborn onesies that I washed and folded the other day, could you please tell me where in the world I put them.

Lamentations 3:22-23
The steadfast love of the Lord never ceases;
his mercies never come to an end;
they are new every morning;
great is your faithfulness.

What Happens to Baked Apples When Baked Too Long?

Simple.

They explode.















(actual untouched photos of exploded Baked Apples)

But apparently exploded apple guts does not negatively affect the flavor.

Math is Hard. Motherhood is Harder.

I look back over the past 20+ years it's been since I've taken a math class and I have to chuckle. I was absolutely horrible in math. Horrible. And it didn't help that I hated it. I now have pity on the poor teachers that tried to teach me algebraic equations and Lord help us, anything involving geometry.

Sorry, Mr. Capistrant. Sorry, Mr. Zeeman. Okay, maybe not Zeeman, he was a jerk. Anyway...

And I have even more pity on the ones that tried to get me to shut-up talking to my friends long enough to, you know, actually learn something.

I liked to talk. A little. But I've overcome that. (snort!)

I think about just how hard I thought math was. How I dreaded it with everything in my being and yet, I had to pass it to graduate. And I did. I did it in spite of it's difficulty.

I now look at those math classes and think, "how did I ever put so much emphasis on how hard math was?". Don't get me wrong, I still hate math...exceedingly. And I still think it's hard.

But not near as hard as motherhood.

Funny enough though, I don't hate motherhood.

As a matter of fact, I love it. Even though it is the single most exhausting, heart wrenching, self sacrificing, frightening thing I have ever done in my life. It is also the single most miraculous, joyful, giving, exhilarating thing I have ever done in my life.

The last few days have been rather....trying around here. I haven't been able to get things done that I need to get done because I've been taking care of vomiting little ones. And then, if life wasn't interesting enough, I had to throw in a little vomiting for myself this past Saturday night.

All. Night. Long.

Throw that in with a little fever, body aches and chills all day Sunday and we can call it a weekend. Sigh.

To say that all of these "things" have been wearing on me in these last few weeks (days?) before the Corn Nut makes his/her appearance is an understatement. I have not/am not coping well with all of these "interruptions". As a matter of fact, I sort of blew a cork tonight over the, um, state of things in my home.

(This is the part where I whine a little)

All of the dishes that were used to prepare mac 'n' cheese, frozen pizza, etc.. while I was down and out in my miserable state, still sat, in the sink. Unwashed. Laundry piles abounded with only the cloth diapers I had washed Saturday afternoon (pre-vomit) still sitting in the dryer. Untouched. The kitchen floor, which I was assured would be thoroughly swept and mopped by Saturday evening, looked like some sort of petri dish experiment gone awry. Still does.

I was mad and I let it be known I was mad. As if things weren't bad enough, while reaching into my pantry for some chicken broth, an entire jar of pizza sauce fell from the top shelf onto the top of my foot.

It hurt. Bad. And I may have said one very un-Christian like word after it happened. Okay, I did. (Just trying to keep it real here and just so you know - my children heard nothing!) My foot immediately acquired a nice sized knot and the pain came on rather quickly.

That was when they showed up. The tears. The tears over the vomiting, the tears over the mess, the tears over the shooting pain. It didn't really matter what they were from, they were there and they weren't going to stop.

So, as I stirred the homemade chicken noodle soup, I cried. As I went into my bedroom to try and go through a few more things, I cried. I cried and cried. I felt good and sorry for myself for about an hour or so. I was so unappreciated. No one cared. Didn't they know I still didn't feel well?

It was after I wallowed for about an hour that it dawned on me. This. Is. Motherhood. This is the trenches. This is raising a family. This. Is. Life. And I asked myself the question...Is it worth it?

(Whining stops here and self evaluation takes over)

Oh, it's easy to say it's worth it when the house is clean. Or when the baby sleeps through the night at 6 weeks. Or when your child is strong and healthy. Or when your teenager is always obedient and never rebellious.

It's when the house is a mess, or the baby has colic, or your child is horribly ill or when you have a rebellious youngster, that you have to ask yourself the question again.... Is it worth it?

Is it worth vomiting children, unrelenting messes, mountains of laundry, nine month pregnant bellies with accompanying aching backs? Is it?

You bet.

It's also worth 16 month olds saying, "Momma" and running into your knees with unconditional hugs. 5 year olds who snuggle next to you giggling, while watching Kung Fu Panda. 8 year olds who offer to help wash dishes at the sight of your tears. 15 year olds who crawl into bed next to you while you're blogging just because she "wants to be close to you". And 17 year old strapping boys that announce to all of Facebook that he's a "Momma's boy and proud of it".

It's all perspective, people. It's my life. And I love it. Vomit and all.

No one ever told me motherhood was easy. But no one also ever told me it would be this hard sometimes. But it is.

Unlike math however, it's worth it.

Just Call Me Svetlana

If I had to have a disease, this would be the one I would pick.



Now tell me, is that not cool? HA!

Because I Need a Distraction From the Puking

So Monk felt pretty disgusting all day yesterday. He only threw up once, but was pretty out of it most of the day. He didn't eat nary a bite I believe, save a few saltines.

We were quite certain that this was a fairly mild virus as Hope, Monk and myself were only physically ill once. Then we just felt bad for about 24 hours.

This theory went out the window when Liv began to vomit at around 3pm yesterday. That poor baby was sick no less than 10-12 times from 3pm until 9pm. It was just relentless with her. That was even after taking the Bentonite. She did manage to sleep last night, vomit-free, next to my bed.

Sleep was something that alluded me last night as I woke up hourly checking on little ones and listening for retching sounds from the far corners of the house. Thankfully, there weren't any. But to say I'm exhausted this morning would be a severe understatement.

Don't these dang viruses know that I have a baby coming and I have stuff to do?! Ah, well. So is life.

So now we wait. Madgirl and Sis are just sitting ducks. They are thrilled, don't you know.

And to distract myself this morning I've decided to just post happy pictures of happy, vomit-free days. We went to the park last Saturday to have the girls photographed with the photographer who will be doing our birth pictures. I snapped a few myself and they turned out pretty good. I absolutely CAN NOT wait to see hers!

So please enjoy and try to forget that I've talked about vomit in 3 out of 4 posts this week.





















































































Y'all have a great weekend now, ya hear?

An Update of Sorts - Bullet Style

• I was awakened this morning by the glorious sounds of my husband retching. Not a pleasant sound I assure you. He did the least bit of repenting the other night, so I figure it's his comeuppance to be next in line.

• Grace is now carrying a bucket around the house with her today waiting for the inevitable. She also asked if she could have milk this morning. I told her the family motto concerning stomach viruses: "Before you eat it, ask yourself the question, "am I willing to throw this up?".

• My midwife appointment went well yesterday and I'm ready to have this baby! I only gained a pound! Woo-hoo! I figure it's because I threw up the other pound last week. By the way, she voted for a girl. Philistine.

• I am frantically cleaning today. Woman's intuition is kicking in and I know most of it needs to get done by the weekend. The dust bunnies in my bedroom are very angry with me at the moment. I'm an evil woman with a can of Pledge.

• I am also going to attempt to make these today because I would like to have them for Thanksgiving dinner. Unless of course I'm in labor. If that's the case then somebody will pull out the extra ones I'm going to freeze today and we can have them anyway. While enjoying the new baby, of course. I'm handy that way.

• Did I mention I was going to be cleaning today?

• The baby poll is closing in, but the boy votes still have the lead over the girl votes. I think you people are just being nice. {grin} I tried to put it in my sidebar, but once again, I'm failing. Techno saviness is just not my forte.
  

• I'll also be downloading some great pics of my sweet girls and posting them later today or tomorrow. I'm not biased. Really. I know I have cute kids.

• Psalm 118:24This is the day that the Lord has made; let us rejoice and be glad in it.

Have a great day ya'll!!

No Words

Words simply cannot express my emotions right now, so I'm just going to ask you to pray.

Please pray for the Delgado family. Jason and Vanessa lost their beautiful conjoined twin baby girls earlier this evening. I wish I understood why these things happen to some and not others, but I will not even attempt to understand the ways of God. I know that He is good and gracious and merciful, but more importantly He is Sovereign. And I take comfort in that.

I know these precious babies are complete and whole and resting in our Savior's arms this very moment. And that might possibly be the only thing that keeps my heart from breaking in two for this sweet couple right now.

Please, please take a moment and pray for them. The road ahead will most certainly be difficult and I know their hearts are breaking. But I also know that they know the Healer of broken hearts and will find their refuge in Him.

Job 1:21
And he said, “Naked I came from my mother's womb, and naked shall I return. The Lord gave, and the Lord has taken away; blessed be the name of the Lord.”

Well...It Was Inevitable I Guess.

I do believe the stomach bug has arrived. (Great heaving sigh)

I violently, and I do mean violently, threw up last Monday night. Thankfully, only once. But I felt lousy the rest of the night and the next day. I "thought" it was just pregnancy related stuff.

Silly, little ol' me.

Well tonight, while eating our Chicken Express, I was in mid bite of my delicious chicken with gravy when Hope began to cry and reach for me. She wasn't eating like she normally does and I figured she was just tired.

Boy, did I figure wrong.

For as soon as I pulled her from her high chair I was baptized by the Spirit of Spew. She was Bringing In the Heaves, my friends. Brother Ralph tossed his cookies of damnation all over me.

It was at that moment the Retch Revival began. Oh yes, my sisters and brothers. For no sooner than did that baby girl commit the contents of her stomach to my clothing and kitchen floor then, amazingly enough, the rest of the sinners in the room began to repent.

Hallelujah!

Strains of "I Surrender All" could be heard wafting through our home. Some were already on their knees, pleading with God to spare them from the undeniable pukeatory that would surely overcome them.

Others had already succumbed to the inevitable knowledge that the Battle of Upchuckageddon was upon us. Some were choosing not to be sick, others knew they were chosen to be sick.

I did the only thing I knew to do. I pulled out the Hydrated Bentonite. Or, what my midwife's husband affectionately calls...

Rhinoceros Snot.

We all took a shot, some kicking and screaming, hoping it will do the trick.

We're now hunkering down around here, preparing for the worst, but praying for deliverance (and I don't mean the Burt Reynolds kind).

I'll keep you posted.

Come On, Tell Me What You Think

This whole "not finding out the sex of the baby" has created quite a stir in these here parts. It's either hot or cold. There seems to be no warm area on this issue.

We've either ticked off the relatives (which really was our evil plan to begin with...MUH HA HA HA!) by NOT finding out or we've been greeted with gracious kudos for building the excitement until the baby's actual birth day.

The latter was truly our goal. We simply want to be surprised.

I cannot even begin to tell you how excited I am! Don't get me wrong, I'm ALWAYS excited to welcome a new life, but this time there is an excitement I can't explain other than we simply DON'T. KNOW. A. STINKIN'. THING. And that, my friends, is exciting! I am lovin' it this way!

Despite the usual things we wonder about (hair color, does he/she have hair, size, date, etc...) the added excitement of not knowing if it's a boy or girl has simply sent Monk and I over the top. We are beside ourselves with giddiness at the anticipation of finding out if we have son or a daughter at the actual birth.

Usually I have some sort of "Mother's Intuition" at this point in the game. This time? Nada. Zilch. Zip. I simply have NO IDEA if this is a boy or a girl. And honestly, I'm thanking God for that because truth be known, I simply don't want to know.

And that, y'all, leads to my next poll. I'm gonna put the boy or girl poll today and then try to figure out how to put it in my sidebar over the weekend (um, yeah right). Y'all can vote as to what you think this baby is and give me your scientific theories as to how you know this.

And just to be fair, I'll once again let everyone know that we have one son, who is the oldest at 17 and then 4 daughters in a row (15, 8, 5 and 1).

Alrighty y'all, give me your thoughts and your votes!

In Spite of Everything Else...This is What Truly Matters

Thank you Lord that You ALONE reign!

Psalm 146: 1-10

1 Praise the LORD!
Praise the LORD, O my soul!

2 I will praise the LORD while I live;
I will sing praises to my God while I have my being.

3 Do not trust in princes,
In mortal man, in whom there is no salvation.

4 His spirit departs, he returns to the earth;
In that very day his thoughts perish.

5 How blessed is he whose help is the God of Jacob,
Whose hope is in the LORD his God,

6 Who made heaven and earth,
The sea and all that is in them;
Who keeps faith forever;

7 Who executes justice for the oppressed;
Who gives food to the hungry.
The LORD sets the prisoners free.

8 The LORD opens the eyes of the blind;
The LORD raises up those who are bowed down;
The LORD loves the righteous;

9 The LORD protects the strangers;
He supports the fatherless and the widow,
But He thwarts the way of the wicked.

10 The LORD will reign forever,
Your God, O Zion, to all generations.
Praise the LORD!

The View From Here

35 weeks and here's my view of things.















If this baby decides to come 10 days early like Hope, then that means I could quite possibly sorta kinda might be having a baby in 3 1/2 weeks.

HOLY SMOKES! I'M NOT FREAKING OUT OR ANYTHING!

Really now, I'm cool as a cucumber. I'm resting in the fact that God has already ordained the day and time of our sweet babe's arrival (...please be Thanksgiving, please be Thanksgiving!). I even have peace about my labor and birth. I've not had this kind of peace the entire pregnancy. I know it's a God given peace and for that I am truly grateful.

What I am NOT resting in or peaceful about is the fact that my HOUSE IS A WRECK! You know me and the whole organizational issue thing? Well, let's just say I haven't quite put those demons to rest yet. I am, in fact, and organizational loser.

And we might be having new floors put in within the next two weeks, to boot. Oh yes, our timing is impeccable, is it not? I've never had new floors and while the whole floor experience is proving to be quite titillating, I really have no idea how this process is done. I mean, what does one do with the junk furniture and belongings in one room while the floor is being put in? Can they do a whole house in one day? Will they move the stuff?

Inquiring minds would like to know.

At any rate, there's a baby coming soon and I seriously doubt he or she will wait for me to get things done around here OR for floors to be put in. We (as in, me and the baby) do, however, discuss these things regularly and it goes something like this:

Me: Dear, sweet child of mine?

Baby: Yes Mother Dearest (not to be confused with Mommy Dearest, thankyouverymuch)

Me: You know Momma loves you very much, don't you?

Baby: Why yes, Momma. And thank you for the chocolate last night.

Me: Your welcome, my sweet love.

Baby: And the Coke for lunch yesterday.

Me: Your welcome darling.

Baby: And the donuts on Saturday.

Me: Ok sweetie, enough.

Baby: And I especially loved the homemade Cinnamon Rolls...

Me: Hey! Zip it, kid!! Hehehehe....Kids say the darndest things in utero! Ahem...anyway...Baby?

Baby: Yes, Momma?

Me: You know I have lots to do before you come, right?

Baby: You do?

Me: Yes, darling. I need to get mine and Daddy's room ready for you, wash the bedding, find you some clothing since I'm not sure if you're a boy or a girl yet and prepare and freeze some meals. You have lots of siblings and they will need to be fed after you are born.

Baby: Oh, really? That's all the noise then, huh?

Me: Yes, baby. And we also need to put in new floors and paint the walls so you have a nice, bright, fresh home when you arrive.

Baby: Wow, that's nice, Momma.

Me: Yes. So, can you now see why Momma needs you to be patient and wait to come until these things are done or until Thanksgiving? Whichever comes first.

Baby: Yes, Momma.

Me: So, will you wait for me, dear baby?

Baby: Well Momma, that depends.....will you eat more chocolate?

I'm being bribed by an infant in utero!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Oh, the sacrifices we make for our children!

So, if I'm out of the loop a little, y'all will know what I am doing, right?

-Cleaning
-Organizing
-Washing
-Cleaning
-Cleaning
-Cleaning
-Sorting
-Cooking
-Cleaning
-Sacrificially eating chocolate for the baby

I have lots to post, just not enough time (or energy, frankly) to post daily and get all of the things done that need to be done before the arrival of a certain Corn Nut.

So bare with me, I'll still be around. Just maybe not quite as often. After all, I still need to put up the Boy or Girl Poll, have my Name That Baby Contest and don't forget, we are going to try and live blog the actual birth. Well, Monk is. I'll be, you know, laboring.

And except for him catching the whole baby part. He'll have his hands full at that point and might not be able to operate the mouse pad effectively.

Oh yes, we are exciting people around here!

p.s. If you haven't done so already, GO VOTE!! Go on now! Perform your civic duty. Do you hear me?

Cause She's Tu-Tu Cute!

She is a priceless treasure...



















...who's not going to be the "baby" much longer.



















She has utterly delighted us for the last 15 months...














... and we love her silly faces and squeals of delight.














Oh, the joy of our baby girl!