It's not the first time, and it won't be the last, that I was wrong.
I predicted Baby Girl would be born this past Thursday, February 25th. It's not that I necessarily believed with every fiber of my being she would actually come that day, but I started feeling a little differently on Tuesday evening (the 23rd) and honestly thought that she would be born some time on Wednesday. (I even packed a hospital bag.) But then I woke up Wednesday morning and felt perfectly fine.
Since then it's been one big mind game.
I'm 39 weeks, 2 days along this Saturday morning. Sydney was born at 39 weeks, 0 days; Lorelei was born at 39 weeks, 2 days; Ford was born 39 weeks, 1 day.
As far as actual date predictions, my date has come and gone. My mom and brother-in-law predicted she would be born today, the 27th. My sister-in-law predicted tomorrow. Chet predicted a leap day baby (Monday, the 29th). Everyone else has March predictions.
It would be super convenient if she would come this weekend, because our babysitter is available. Also, I went grocery shopping yesterday morning, so we have a full fridge, I have clean hair, and our kitchen and dining room floors are mopped. I'm not sure what else a tiny baby could want before coming into this world, because those conditions are pretty ideal.
Come on, Baby! We're ready to meet you!
Saturday, February 27, 2016
Tuesday, February 23, 2016
Ford's Birth Story: The Final Installment
Ford's Birth Story: Part 1
Ford's Birth Story: Part 2
Ford's 1st Birthday (sort of)
So I'm picking right back up where I left off in August of 2014, when I blogged Ford's Birth Story: Part 2.
As much as I wanted an epidural-free labor, I knew conditions would need to be "just right" for that to happen. I decided the only way to guarantee this would be for me to labor at home as long as possible, and once at the hospital be told there wasn't enough time before Baby's arrival to get an epidural.
One of the reasons I was so worried about all of this in the first place was because, even though I'd already had two babies, I didn't really know what to expect contraction- and labor-wise. I had experienced what I thought were quite painful (and close together) pre-epidural contractions with both girls, but what would have happened had I never gotten the epidurals in the first place? For both girls, many hours passed between administering the epidural and their times of birth. Would the contractions I had experienced only get more painful and closer together? Could I handle that for hours and hours (doubtful)? And the pushing? My track record of 2-hours of pushing didn't make an epidural-free labor enticing.
All that to say that the unknowns were what kept me in fear.
Okay, let's just jump right back into the story.
Chet's mom flew into town Saturday, January 4th (she was staying for two weeks). We all assumed that Ford would be born during her time with us since I had both girls a week before their due dates. Ford's due date was January 11th, and we were expecting Chet home from deployment somewhere around that date too (we didn't know the exact date until only a couple of days before he arrived home). When I was pregnant with the girls, I was doing everything possible to get labor started (lots of walking, etc.), but with Ford I was doing nothing, because we wanted Chet home for the birth. (I didn't even let the doctor check to see if I was dilated or anything at my 38-week appointment.)
Grammy (Chet's mom) was supposed to arrive midday-ish on the 4th, but her flight was severely delayed, so we didn't end up picking her up from the airport until probably 8 p.m. (the exact time escapes me two years later, ha!). But she had arrived -- whew! Then, lo and behold, a couple of hours after going to bed on the 4th, I started experiencing what I was pretty sure were labor contractions. I decided to flat-out ignore them, because I was still holding out on giving birth for as long as possible. The contractions must have subsided at some point in the night, because I remember getting some rest; I wasn't awake all night ignoring what were clearly labor contractions.
January 5th was a Sunday, and the night before we had agreed that we would attend church. I was still having contractions that were not merely Braxton-Hicks, but they weren't extremely regular or anything. I told Grammy as soon as she got up about the contractions the night before, but I insisted on still going to church. I also insisted on a few other things, assuming that labor was imminent. You know, important things like changing the temperature setting on the hot water heater.
But as the morning progressed, the contractions subsided. Huh. (That didn't happen with the girls.)
In fact, I was feeling completely normal by midday. But the earlier contractions still lit a fire under me to finish all of those little tasks all mothers plan to do before the arrival of a child. Such as "remove infant carseat from manufacturer's box." I was prepared for the births of the girls for weeks in advance, but apparently I thought that avoiding every birth-related task would prevent me from going into labor with Ford (don't try this at home).
By early afternoon, post nap time for the girls, I was scrolling through social media on my phone and saw that my cousin, who was due around the same time I was, had given birth earlier that morning. And not long after that the contractions started up again.
We went about our normal afternoon activities, and decided to take an early-evening walk around the neighborhood. The contractions weren't going away, and I remember chatting with neighbors, telling a couple of them that I had been and was currently having contractions, but that I was hoping to hold off going to the hospital until the next morning. (In hindsight, I'm not sure why I was trying to hold off -- maybe because I didn't want to be a day behind with sleep like I was with the girls? Because I didn't want to have to ask my friend to come sleep at the house with the girls while Grammy and I were at the hospital? Who knows.) Trying to hold off or not, it was clear that I was in the early stages of labor, and there was no going back.
We walked back home and then hopped in the car and went through the Dairy Queen drive thru to pick up dinner (oh, South Mississippi, how I miss you and your menagerie of fast food joints right outside the gates of the Naval base). We ate our dinner at home (I had a cheeseburger, probably some onion rings and fries -- maybe both -- but I can't remember whether or not I ordered a Blizzard...). By now the contractions were as I remembered them from labor with the girls, but they were still manageable, and Grammy and I still had lots to do before heading to the hospital. (By this time though, I had contacted my friend and told her she'd need to come sleep at the house with the girls, but that it would probably still be a while -- maybe 10 p.m. or so.)
Here are things we did before heading to the hospital:
1. Grammy bathed the girls.
2. I cleaned up dinner and vacuumed the dining room and kitchen floors.
3. I sat at the computer and finished up some pre-baby tasks, such as instructions on the girls' daily and bedtime routines, and some e-mails that would enable non-military family members to gain access to the base.
4. I put the girls to bed.
5. I texted my labor and delivery nurse friend, the one who lived 5 houses down from me, and boldly asked if she would come over and check to see how far progressed I was, labor-wise. She couldn't come though, because she was at work at the hospital.
6. Grammy and I changed the sheets on my bed.
7. Grammy and I started to pack our bags for the hospital (again, unlike with the girls I hadn't even begun to pack a hospital bag).
8. Somehow Chet was aware of the goings on, and I remember talking to him at least once while this was all happening.
9. I contacted my friend to let her know I'd need her to come over sooner than I had originally thought (it was probably only about 8 p.m. at this point -- I didn't think it was wise to wait until 10 p.m. for her to arrive).
10. I called the Labor and Delivery floor at the Air Force hospital where I was planning to give birth to let them know that I was in labor and coming in soon. For some reason I semi-jokingly said, "I sure I hope I make it in time!" The woman I spoke to took that pretty seriously and said, "If you don't think you're going to make it, you need to go to Memorial Hospital right outside the base where you live." Well. Okay then.
By this time the contractions were pretty fierce -- I couldn't talk, or even stand, through them. But I still felt okay. Grammy and I were flying around as fast as we possibly could, getting ready to leave (even though I had no idea how much longer it might be before I actually gave birth). I had already e-mailed my friend the list of instructions regarding the girls, so as soon as she arrived we left. I didn't even take the time to change out of my yoga pants (I was still wearing the top I wore to church that day) or my Crocs (which I used as house shoes).
Maybe it's just me, but having contractions while buckled into the car is the worst. I can't figure out if it's because you're pretty much forced to sit in the same-ish position, or if it's because the motion of the moving car makes things feel worse. It was only about a 10-minute ride from our house on base to the Memorial Hospital right outside of the base, thank goodness; it would have been a 25-30 minute ride had we ventured to the Air Force Hospital.
I'm allowed to share this next part because Grammy gave me permission to a long time ago. When we pulled into the ER bay at hospital (it's a tricky-to-navigate ER bay), Grammy (who was driving) scraped the entire left side our our nice, new van (it was a year old, but it still felt nice and new) along one of the gigantic concrete columns holding up the roof of the ER bay. I wasn't happy. But I think God orchestrated that little accident, because it was a wonderful distraction for the next half hour.
I remember looking at the car's clock when Grammy stopped the car and I started to get out: it was exactly 9:30 p.m.
It was a short walk from the car to the ER's front desk. I had my military ID in hand, as well as my phone, and I set them both down on the desk. I must have looked really scary (I can't remember if Grammy had talked to the woman at the front desk), because I was immediately being seated in a wheelchair and wheeled over to the elevators so that we could go up to the Labor and Delivery floor. Literally immediately. I knowingly left my ID and phone on the front desk, because I no longer cared about such things (they were returned to me later).
I never got a look at the man pushing my wheelchair -- he was very kind and reassuring though. He told me he was perfectly capable of delivering a baby, but that he would rather we make it up to Labor and Delivery. I knew he was wearing a hooded sweatshirt, because about that time (while we were in the elevator) I reached behind me and grabbed his sweatshirt and yanked him down toward my head while another contraction washed over me. I'm sure he's seen and experienced worse, and he never let on that he was offended or couldn't handle it. (He was, however, quick to exit once I was safely in the hands of the Labor and Delivery nurses.)
When we entered the doors of Labor and Delivery, my neighbor friend (who was expecting me, even though I never told her for sure I was coming to her hospital) jumped up and took over. She later told me that she was expecting me to arrive with a little while to go before giving birth, but as soon as she saw my face she knew that she needed to move fast, and that I wasn't messing around. They transferred me from the wheelchair to the bed, and it's hard to remember all of the specifics after that. There was no time to change from my clothes to a gown. There was no time to insert an IV into my arm (actually, they were trying, but I was super sweaty and they couldn't get the needle in -- I think the IV was just for emergency purposes anyway). Since the staff new nothing about me as a patient, I remember them asking me the "important" questions: Did I know whether or not I was Strep B positive; did I experience complications with any of my other births; what were the gestational ages and sizes of my other children at birth, etc.
One of my biggest fears throughout the pregnancy, while planing on having an epidural-free birth, was wondering whether or not my body would what to do at the appropriate time (i.e. when to push). And even more than that I feared that I would push for two hours like I did with the girls. I remember asking my neighbor, in a panicked voice, "Am I going to push for two hours!?" Of course she said "no," but I have no idea if that's what she truly believed or if she just didn't want to push the crazy woman in labor over the edge.
All this time I never asked for pain relief. I knew that I was near the end and that pain relief was pretty much off the table as an option, and I was okay with that. It was truly an answered prayer.
Around this time it was obvious the doctor might not show up in time, so my neighbor set herself up at the end of the bed and another nurse took over at my side. It was about this time my body decided it was time to push. The sweet, young nurse at my side told me not to push, and I remember just looking at her, probably with an expression on my face that suggested she and I did not speak the same language. (She was telling me not to push because the doctor wasn't there yet.) My neighbor told the nurse, "It's okay, she can push if she needs to."
And a few minutes later he was born. Ford Alan arrived at 9:59 p.m., 29 minutes after pulling into the ER bay. He weighed 8 lbs, 2 oz, and I can't for the life of me remember his length.
The doctor showed up soon after, and I think was super mad at me for waiting so long to head to the hospital. She didn't show me any bedside manner, which was fine, because who needs a doctor when your friend/neighbor/Labor and Delivery nurse can just deliver the baby?!
There you have it! There's not much to report after that. I remember being in the hospital with him felt like a luxury vacation, because caring for newborns was no longer a mystery to me, and I relished being in a quiet space with cable TV at my disposal and a nursing staff to help me out when I needed it. Truth be told, I'm looking forward to a similar experience when Baby #4 arrives soon!
Ford's Birth Story: Part 2
Ford's 1st Birthday (sort of)
So I'm picking right back up where I left off in August of 2014, when I blogged Ford's Birth Story: Part 2.
As much as I wanted an epidural-free labor, I knew conditions would need to be "just right" for that to happen. I decided the only way to guarantee this would be for me to labor at home as long as possible, and once at the hospital be told there wasn't enough time before Baby's arrival to get an epidural.
One of the reasons I was so worried about all of this in the first place was because, even though I'd already had two babies, I didn't really know what to expect contraction- and labor-wise. I had experienced what I thought were quite painful (and close together) pre-epidural contractions with both girls, but what would have happened had I never gotten the epidurals in the first place? For both girls, many hours passed between administering the epidural and their times of birth. Would the contractions I had experienced only get more painful and closer together? Could I handle that for hours and hours (doubtful)? And the pushing? My track record of 2-hours of pushing didn't make an epidural-free labor enticing.
All that to say that the unknowns were what kept me in fear.
Okay, let's just jump right back into the story.
Chet's mom flew into town Saturday, January 4th (she was staying for two weeks). We all assumed that Ford would be born during her time with us since I had both girls a week before their due dates. Ford's due date was January 11th, and we were expecting Chet home from deployment somewhere around that date too (we didn't know the exact date until only a couple of days before he arrived home). When I was pregnant with the girls, I was doing everything possible to get labor started (lots of walking, etc.), but with Ford I was doing nothing, because we wanted Chet home for the birth. (I didn't even let the doctor check to see if I was dilated or anything at my 38-week appointment.)
Grammy (Chet's mom) was supposed to arrive midday-ish on the 4th, but her flight was severely delayed, so we didn't end up picking her up from the airport until probably 8 p.m. (the exact time escapes me two years later, ha!). But she had arrived -- whew! Then, lo and behold, a couple of hours after going to bed on the 4th, I started experiencing what I was pretty sure were labor contractions. I decided to flat-out ignore them, because I was still holding out on giving birth for as long as possible. The contractions must have subsided at some point in the night, because I remember getting some rest; I wasn't awake all night ignoring what were clearly labor contractions.
January 5th was a Sunday, and the night before we had agreed that we would attend church. I was still having contractions that were not merely Braxton-Hicks, but they weren't extremely regular or anything. I told Grammy as soon as she got up about the contractions the night before, but I insisted on still going to church. I also insisted on a few other things, assuming that labor was imminent. You know, important things like changing the temperature setting on the hot water heater.
But as the morning progressed, the contractions subsided. Huh. (That didn't happen with the girls.)
In fact, I was feeling completely normal by midday. But the earlier contractions still lit a fire under me to finish all of those little tasks all mothers plan to do before the arrival of a child. Such as "remove infant carseat from manufacturer's box." I was prepared for the births of the girls for weeks in advance, but apparently I thought that avoiding every birth-related task would prevent me from going into labor with Ford (don't try this at home).
By early afternoon, post nap time for the girls, I was scrolling through social media on my phone and saw that my cousin, who was due around the same time I was, had given birth earlier that morning. And not long after that the contractions started up again.
We went about our normal afternoon activities, and decided to take an early-evening walk around the neighborhood. The contractions weren't going away, and I remember chatting with neighbors, telling a couple of them that I had been and was currently having contractions, but that I was hoping to hold off going to the hospital until the next morning. (In hindsight, I'm not sure why I was trying to hold off -- maybe because I didn't want to be a day behind with sleep like I was with the girls? Because I didn't want to have to ask my friend to come sleep at the house with the girls while Grammy and I were at the hospital? Who knows.) Trying to hold off or not, it was clear that I was in the early stages of labor, and there was no going back.
We walked back home and then hopped in the car and went through the Dairy Queen drive thru to pick up dinner (oh, South Mississippi, how I miss you and your menagerie of fast food joints right outside the gates of the Naval base). We ate our dinner at home (I had a cheeseburger, probably some onion rings and fries -- maybe both -- but I can't remember whether or not I ordered a Blizzard...). By now the contractions were as I remembered them from labor with the girls, but they were still manageable, and Grammy and I still had lots to do before heading to the hospital. (By this time though, I had contacted my friend and told her she'd need to come sleep at the house with the girls, but that it would probably still be a while -- maybe 10 p.m. or so.)
Here are things we did before heading to the hospital:
1. Grammy bathed the girls.
2. I cleaned up dinner and vacuumed the dining room and kitchen floors.
3. I sat at the computer and finished up some pre-baby tasks, such as instructions on the girls' daily and bedtime routines, and some e-mails that would enable non-military family members to gain access to the base.
4. I put the girls to bed.
5. I texted my labor and delivery nurse friend, the one who lived 5 houses down from me, and boldly asked if she would come over and check to see how far progressed I was, labor-wise. She couldn't come though, because she was at work at the hospital.
6. Grammy and I changed the sheets on my bed.
7. Grammy and I started to pack our bags for the hospital (again, unlike with the girls I hadn't even begun to pack a hospital bag).
8. Somehow Chet was aware of the goings on, and I remember talking to him at least once while this was all happening.
9. I contacted my friend to let her know I'd need her to come over sooner than I had originally thought (it was probably only about 8 p.m. at this point -- I didn't think it was wise to wait until 10 p.m. for her to arrive).
10. I called the Labor and Delivery floor at the Air Force hospital where I was planning to give birth to let them know that I was in labor and coming in soon. For some reason I semi-jokingly said, "I sure I hope I make it in time!" The woman I spoke to took that pretty seriously and said, "If you don't think you're going to make it, you need to go to Memorial Hospital right outside the base where you live." Well. Okay then.
By this time the contractions were pretty fierce -- I couldn't talk, or even stand, through them. But I still felt okay. Grammy and I were flying around as fast as we possibly could, getting ready to leave (even though I had no idea how much longer it might be before I actually gave birth). I had already e-mailed my friend the list of instructions regarding the girls, so as soon as she arrived we left. I didn't even take the time to change out of my yoga pants (I was still wearing the top I wore to church that day) or my Crocs (which I used as house shoes).
Maybe it's just me, but having contractions while buckled into the car is the worst. I can't figure out if it's because you're pretty much forced to sit in the same-ish position, or if it's because the motion of the moving car makes things feel worse. It was only about a 10-minute ride from our house on base to the Memorial Hospital right outside of the base, thank goodness; it would have been a 25-30 minute ride had we ventured to the Air Force Hospital.
I'm allowed to share this next part because Grammy gave me permission to a long time ago. When we pulled into the ER bay at hospital (it's a tricky-to-navigate ER bay), Grammy (who was driving) scraped the entire left side our our nice, new van (it was a year old, but it still felt nice and new) along one of the gigantic concrete columns holding up the roof of the ER bay. I wasn't happy. But I think God orchestrated that little accident, because it was a wonderful distraction for the next half hour.
I remember looking at the car's clock when Grammy stopped the car and I started to get out: it was exactly 9:30 p.m.
It was a short walk from the car to the ER's front desk. I had my military ID in hand, as well as my phone, and I set them both down on the desk. I must have looked really scary (I can't remember if Grammy had talked to the woman at the front desk), because I was immediately being seated in a wheelchair and wheeled over to the elevators so that we could go up to the Labor and Delivery floor. Literally immediately. I knowingly left my ID and phone on the front desk, because I no longer cared about such things (they were returned to me later).
I never got a look at the man pushing my wheelchair -- he was very kind and reassuring though. He told me he was perfectly capable of delivering a baby, but that he would rather we make it up to Labor and Delivery. I knew he was wearing a hooded sweatshirt, because about that time (while we were in the elevator) I reached behind me and grabbed his sweatshirt and yanked him down toward my head while another contraction washed over me. I'm sure he's seen and experienced worse, and he never let on that he was offended or couldn't handle it. (He was, however, quick to exit once I was safely in the hands of the Labor and Delivery nurses.)
When we entered the doors of Labor and Delivery, my neighbor friend (who was expecting me, even though I never told her for sure I was coming to her hospital) jumped up and took over. She later told me that she was expecting me to arrive with a little while to go before giving birth, but as soon as she saw my face she knew that she needed to move fast, and that I wasn't messing around. They transferred me from the wheelchair to the bed, and it's hard to remember all of the specifics after that. There was no time to change from my clothes to a gown. There was no time to insert an IV into my arm (actually, they were trying, but I was super sweaty and they couldn't get the needle in -- I think the IV was just for emergency purposes anyway). Since the staff new nothing about me as a patient, I remember them asking me the "important" questions: Did I know whether or not I was Strep B positive; did I experience complications with any of my other births; what were the gestational ages and sizes of my other children at birth, etc.
One of my biggest fears throughout the pregnancy, while planing on having an epidural-free birth, was wondering whether or not my body would what to do at the appropriate time (i.e. when to push). And even more than that I feared that I would push for two hours like I did with the girls. I remember asking my neighbor, in a panicked voice, "Am I going to push for two hours!?" Of course she said "no," but I have no idea if that's what she truly believed or if she just didn't want to push the crazy woman in labor over the edge.
All this time I never asked for pain relief. I knew that I was near the end and that pain relief was pretty much off the table as an option, and I was okay with that. It was truly an answered prayer.
Around this time it was obvious the doctor might not show up in time, so my neighbor set herself up at the end of the bed and another nurse took over at my side. It was about this time my body decided it was time to push. The sweet, young nurse at my side told me not to push, and I remember just looking at her, probably with an expression on my face that suggested she and I did not speak the same language. (She was telling me not to push because the doctor wasn't there yet.) My neighbor told the nurse, "It's okay, she can push if she needs to."
And a few minutes later he was born. Ford Alan arrived at 9:59 p.m., 29 minutes after pulling into the ER bay. He weighed 8 lbs, 2 oz, and I can't for the life of me remember his length.
The doctor showed up soon after, and I think was super mad at me for waiting so long to head to the hospital. She didn't show me any bedside manner, which was fine, because who needs a doctor when your friend/neighbor/Labor and Delivery nurse can just deliver the baby?!
There you have it! There's not much to report after that. I remember being in the hospital with him felt like a luxury vacation, because caring for newborns was no longer a mystery to me, and I relished being in a quiet space with cable TV at my disposal and a nursing staff to help me out when I needed it. Truth be told, I'm looking forward to a similar experience when Baby #4 arrives soon!
We love you, Ford/Bubby/Buddy! I can't believe you're 2-years old now, and that you'll be a big brother any day. You're ready for it, and I know you're well equipped to handle being surrounded by sisters at home. (And Mommy's sorry for taking this long to post about your birth.)
Monday, February 22, 2016
38-ish Weeks
I totally dropped the ball and didn't take a 37-week picture...or a 38-week picture (sorry, Baby). But we DID take some quick maternity pictures this past Saturday, when I was 38 weeks, 2 days along, so I'll share one of those with you!
It's a little blurry because I just did a screen shot of the video the photographer put together as a sneak peek, but so as not to take credit for her incredible work, you can visit Erin's photography website at erinjphotography.com.
I've never taken maternity pictures before, and wasn't planning to this time either, but we've hired Erin to take newborn/family shots (newborn pictures are also something I've never done!), and she generously does a mini maternity session for you too! Thank you, Erin!
We took the photos at George Washington's Gristmill, and it was the perfect (and historical!) backdrop.
Before Erin showed up we had the kids jumping around outside to warm them up (it wasn't too cold, but it was chilly without jackets):
(In case you can't tell, Sydney lost her other front top tooth -- she's nearly toothless.)
Twins:
That's all for now -- Ford is hollering at me from his crib. I really need to post about Ford's birth story, a mere two years ago, before this baby comes along. I'm almost done writing the post, so hopefully I'll knock it out in the next day or so!
Happy Monday!
I've never taken maternity pictures before, and wasn't planning to this time either, but we've hired Erin to take newborn/family shots (newborn pictures are also something I've never done!), and she generously does a mini maternity session for you too! Thank you, Erin!
We took the photos at George Washington's Gristmill, and it was the perfect (and historical!) backdrop.
Before Erin showed up we had the kids jumping around outside to warm them up (it wasn't too cold, but it was chilly without jackets):
Twins:
That's all for now -- Ford is hollering at me from his crib. I really need to post about Ford's birth story, a mere two years ago, before this baby comes along. I'm almost done writing the post, so hopefully I'll knock it out in the next day or so!
Happy Monday!
Friday, February 5, 2016
36 Weeks (and a name hint)
Today I'm 36 weeks and 1 day along...if I have this baby girl when I had the other children, we'll meet her in about 3 weeks! I went to the doctor this past Tuesday, and actually ended up having an ultrasound. The doctor and I weren't sure she was head down, so we had a look to confirm her position (turns out she was head down). My next appointment is February 17th, which will probably be my last one until her arrival.
I didn't take a 35-week picture, so here I am at 34 and 36 weeks, for comparison:
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| 34 Weeks (with our messy, snow gear-laden background) |
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| 36 Weeks (with a shadow, that I didn't successfully edit out, because I'm not really an editor) |
Speaking of editing, I downloaded an app that I heard great things about (Camera+). Here are a few pictures I've taken with it (and edited) so far:
Okay, back to the point. And also, just for fun, here are my 36-week pictures when I'm pregnant with Sydney, Lorelei, and Ford:
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| Sydney |
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| Lorelei |
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| Ford |
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| Baby #4 |
Enough/way too many pictures of me.
Now for a name hint.
(By the way, Chet and I are fully aware of how obnoxious it is that we keep the name to ourselves until the baby arrives...muahahahahaha!)
Before the hint, let me say that that the weekend we were snowed in, as well as the 3-day weekend before that, has provided plenty of time for me to "nest." We've done some rearranging of furniture to prepare for her arrival, and I went on a basket-buying spree in order to organize her little changing table, which is pretty much where everything she owns will be stored until we move. I decided when she has her own room it will be light pink and navy blue, with gold accents. (Her furniture is white.) This will allow me to use Sydney's pink crib skirt and pink gingham curtains (as well as her pink crib sheets):
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| Sydney's room, 2010 (Mayport, FL) |
And Lorelei's/Ford's navy blue and white crib bumper:
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| Lorelei's room, 2011 (Gulfport, MS) |
(I just realized I've never taken pictures of Ford's room. Oh, well.)
Baby Girl's "room":
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| Baby Girl's room/our master bedroom, today (Alexandria, VA) |
The changing table is new, as well as the four woven baskets that are on the shelves (the mesh pink ones we already owned). The goat laundry hamper is also new, and will probably eventually be Ford's.
And in case you can't see that initial hanging on the wall over the changing table:
We can't wait to meet Miss "R." Any guesses as to which name we've chosen? Also, when do you think she'll arrive? We took "bets" in Chet's family while we were together during Christmas: the guesses range from February 25th (my guess) to March 12th (um, no thank you).
Happy Friday!
Tuesday, January 26, 2016
The Snowy Weekend Continues!
Good Tuesday morning!
I probably don't need to announce that we were snowed in all weekend -- and yesterday and today. Schools and federal building were closed yesterday, and again today -- the roads are getting cleared and the temperature is actually above freezing, but we got A LOT of snow.
The pictures will pretty much tell the story themselves, but I'll throw in a few more tidbits of information:
1. The snow first started Wednesday evening, around 6 p.m., just as Chet was on his way home from work (the Pentagon is only three exits from our house, so it's a short commute). His travel time wasn't affected, but you may have seen on the news that there were a ton of accidents that piled up in the D.C. area (nothing horribly life-threatening to my knowledge, just an inordinate amount, which made traffic extremely heavy). It took many people 6-7 hours to get home Wednesday evening (commutes that would normally take an hour or less during rush hour).
I was unaware of all of the accidents, and needed to get out of the house as soon as Chet walked through the door that evening (it had been one of those days). So I drove over to HomeGoods and shopped for storage baskets for Baby while the snow continued to fall. It took me a little less than a half hour to get there and the same mount of time to get back (which isn't too much longer than it normally would have been at that time). I didn't encounter any accidents; people (including me) were driving slowly and carefully.
2. School was cancelled for Sydney and Lorelei Thursday (understandably; the roads were probably icy after the snow the night before), but gymnastics was open, so we were able to get out of the house for the girls' 3 p.m. class. By Thursday afternoon most of the snow had melted. Chet was home early from work, before 5 p.m.
3. School was cancelled again Friday for Sydney (Lorelei doesn't attend school anyway on Fridays). The roads were perfectly clear Friday morning; nearly all of the snow had melted. But the "real" snow started falling just after noon on Friday, and it didn't stop until late Saturday night. Federal buildings closed at noon, so Chet was home by 1 p.m. We had all of the groceries and supplies we needed for a snowbound weekend, but Sydney and I went to Target in Chet's truck as soon as he got home before things got too bad. As I posted on Facebook: "Sydney and I had to make a last minute trip to Target for some snowstorm necessities: craft paint, Valentine candy, and a decorative bin."
So, truly, the Target run was completely unnecessary, but it was interesting to get out of the house nonetheless. Target was quite crowded; the store had shifted into holiday shopping mode by blocking access to the checkout lines, forcing everyone to form a single line and then directing each person to an open register. The line was super long and snaked around the store, but truth be told I think we got through the line faster that way than had we been in line on a regular busy Saturday or Sunday.
We haven't been out of the house since then. Outside, yes, but not anywhere via vehicle. We've heard that the major roads are plowed, but our neighborhood streets are completely invisible under about 18" of snow. I thought I heard plows in the middle of the night last night, but apparently not.
Picture time!
Thursday morning we went outside to play in the 1-inch deep snow -- it was quickly melting, but still fun for a while.
Saturday morning:
Saturday night I pulled Sydney's top right front tooth. It's been quite loose for days, and we finally got it out. I love kids with no front teeth; there's nothing cuter.
Sunday morning:
The girls and Ford had different reactions to the waist-deep (for them) snow:
Lorelei has enjoyed playing in the snow this year (she's sometimes freaked out by things like this), but is always happy to warm up inside afterward. She found one of Ford's baby towels in the linen closet and donned it as a robe.
One of our neighbors graciously gave us their old crib. Chet put it together this weekend to make sure we had all the hardware, and it made a fantastic drying rack for snow gear.
Sunday afternoon Chet and Sydney were outside for hours, being social with the rest of the neighborhood (Lorelei, Ford, and I remained anti-social inside the house -- we had fun though!). Our street was not even close to being visible under all the snow.
Hopefully school starts tomorrow (Sydney's birthday)...as nice as it's been to be home together, it's time for some routine!
I probably don't need to announce that we were snowed in all weekend -- and yesterday and today. Schools and federal building were closed yesterday, and again today -- the roads are getting cleared and the temperature is actually above freezing, but we got A LOT of snow.
The pictures will pretty much tell the story themselves, but I'll throw in a few more tidbits of information:
1. The snow first started Wednesday evening, around 6 p.m., just as Chet was on his way home from work (the Pentagon is only three exits from our house, so it's a short commute). His travel time wasn't affected, but you may have seen on the news that there were a ton of accidents that piled up in the D.C. area (nothing horribly life-threatening to my knowledge, just an inordinate amount, which made traffic extremely heavy). It took many people 6-7 hours to get home Wednesday evening (commutes that would normally take an hour or less during rush hour).
I was unaware of all of the accidents, and needed to get out of the house as soon as Chet walked through the door that evening (it had been one of those days). So I drove over to HomeGoods and shopped for storage baskets for Baby while the snow continued to fall. It took me a little less than a half hour to get there and the same mount of time to get back (which isn't too much longer than it normally would have been at that time). I didn't encounter any accidents; people (including me) were driving slowly and carefully.
2. School was cancelled for Sydney and Lorelei Thursday (understandably; the roads were probably icy after the snow the night before), but gymnastics was open, so we were able to get out of the house for the girls' 3 p.m. class. By Thursday afternoon most of the snow had melted. Chet was home early from work, before 5 p.m.
3. School was cancelled again Friday for Sydney (Lorelei doesn't attend school anyway on Fridays). The roads were perfectly clear Friday morning; nearly all of the snow had melted. But the "real" snow started falling just after noon on Friday, and it didn't stop until late Saturday night. Federal buildings closed at noon, so Chet was home by 1 p.m. We had all of the groceries and supplies we needed for a snowbound weekend, but Sydney and I went to Target in Chet's truck as soon as he got home before things got too bad. As I posted on Facebook: "Sydney and I had to make a last minute trip to Target for some snowstorm necessities: craft paint, Valentine candy, and a decorative bin."
So, truly, the Target run was completely unnecessary, but it was interesting to get out of the house nonetheless. Target was quite crowded; the store had shifted into holiday shopping mode by blocking access to the checkout lines, forcing everyone to form a single line and then directing each person to an open register. The line was super long and snaked around the store, but truth be told I think we got through the line faster that way than had we been in line on a regular busy Saturday or Sunday.
We haven't been out of the house since then. Outside, yes, but not anywhere via vehicle. We've heard that the major roads are plowed, but our neighborhood streets are completely invisible under about 18" of snow. I thought I heard plows in the middle of the night last night, but apparently not.
Picture time!
Thursday morning we went outside to play in the 1-inch deep snow -- it was quickly melting, but still fun for a while.
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| Not so sure about all those layers |
Saturday morning:
Saturday night I pulled Sydney's top right front tooth. It's been quite loose for days, and we finally got it out. I love kids with no front teeth; there's nothing cuter.
Sunday morning:
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| View of our backyard from the kitchen window |
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| Our driveway (Chet had already started to dig his truck out, but the van was completely covered) |
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| Backyard again, later in the day |
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| Happy |
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| Not Happy |
One of our neighbors graciously gave us their old crib. Chet put it together this weekend to make sure we had all the hardware, and it made a fantastic drying rack for snow gear.
Sunday afternoon Chet and Sydney were outside for hours, being social with the rest of the neighborhood (Lorelei, Ford, and I remained anti-social inside the house -- we had fun though!). Our street was not even close to being visible under all the snow.
Hopefully school starts tomorrow (Sydney's birthday)...as nice as it's been to be home together, it's time for some routine!
Sunday, January 24, 2016
Recent Belly Pictures!
I can't believe I haven't posted any belly pictures in 9 weeks! (I also can't believe I let another 20 days pass without blogging, but let's just gloss over that.)
As of last Thursday I am 34 weeks along. It's getting real, people, especially considering I had the other three kiddos at 39 weeks. I'm also in full blown nesting mode (although I think Chet would tell you that I'm constantly nesting; he just changes the word to "scurrying" when I'm not pregnant).
Anyway, click here to see my post with 22-, 24-, and 25-week belly pictures, if you want.
It wasn't until just now that I realized I was negligent in taking a picture at 26, 27, and 28 weeks, as well as 30 and 31 weeks. I knew I had missed a couple, but dang. Let's just all agree to blame Thanksgiving and Christmas on this little oversight.
I feel like there are a few things I need to point out about these pictures, some of which I may have mentioned before:
1. I am almost always wearing my pajamas, because we take these pictures on Thursday nights after the kids are in bed. I don't know about you, but I literally cannot wait to put on my pajamas once the kids are down -- it's entirely too much effort to trek downstairs to take a picture, then back upstairs to change before settling in for an episode of "The Good Wife."
2. I only have about 3 pair of pajamas that fit me right now.
3. There is no good place to take belly pictures in our house -- especially since it's always dark when they're taken (we get tons of lovely, natural light in our home throughout the day, but at night it's like a dungeon).
4. We usually clear away the jackets, backpacks, and shoes before taking the picture each week, but this past Thursday I told Chet just to leave all of it. Because it's evidence of real life, and proof that we're dealing with a whole bunch of snow around here (those are snow boots drying on a piece of cardboard and an old beach towel to help sop up all of the extra water in the bottom righthand part of the picture).
Let me say, in case I haven't said it before, that I love our little northern Virginia house. It's small, but it has fit us well, and it's surprisingly functional in a lot of ways (I can also think of some un-functional things, like almost no kitchen counter space and no bathroom on the main level). However...we are quickly outgrowing it. It's a good thing we're moving not long after Baby arrives, because we're thisclose to this little house not working for us at all anymore. (I realize this is a "first world problem.") I'm not exactly sure what this has to do with belly pictures; maybe I'm reminded of it because of the "belongings bomb" pictured above that seems to constantly exist in our non-entryway (seriously, we have NO entryway -- you walk into our front door and practically trip over our couch). Or maybe because I've spent the entire weekend thinking up creative ways to fit Baby into our bedroom, without making it a complete tripping/fire hazard. Either way, Chet and I are looking forward to having a bit more living space in Texas. We also plan on acquiring a bigger dining room table and a king-sized bed once there -- it's high time for both.
I hope you've had a lovely weekend so far! Church is cancelled for us this morning (I think the main reason is because it would have been impossible to clear the parking lots of snow in time), but it stopped snowing last night, so hopefully the plows will have a chance to swing through our neighborhood before work/school tomorrow!
As of last Thursday I am 34 weeks along. It's getting real, people, especially considering I had the other three kiddos at 39 weeks. I'm also in full blown nesting mode (although I think Chet would tell you that I'm constantly nesting; he just changes the word to "scurrying" when I'm not pregnant).
Anyway, click here to see my post with 22-, 24-, and 25-week belly pictures, if you want.
It wasn't until just now that I realized I was negligent in taking a picture at 26, 27, and 28 weeks, as well as 30 and 31 weeks. I knew I had missed a couple, but dang. Let's just all agree to blame Thanksgiving and Christmas on this little oversight.
 |
| 25 Weeks (same picture from last belly picture post) |
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| 29 Weeks |
 |
| 32 Weeks |
 |
| 33 Weeks |
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| 34 Weeks |
1. I am almost always wearing my pajamas, because we take these pictures on Thursday nights after the kids are in bed. I don't know about you, but I literally cannot wait to put on my pajamas once the kids are down -- it's entirely too much effort to trek downstairs to take a picture, then back upstairs to change before settling in for an episode of "The Good Wife."
2. I only have about 3 pair of pajamas that fit me right now.
3. There is no good place to take belly pictures in our house -- especially since it's always dark when they're taken (we get tons of lovely, natural light in our home throughout the day, but at night it's like a dungeon).
4. We usually clear away the jackets, backpacks, and shoes before taking the picture each week, but this past Thursday I told Chet just to leave all of it. Because it's evidence of real life, and proof that we're dealing with a whole bunch of snow around here (those are snow boots drying on a piece of cardboard and an old beach towel to help sop up all of the extra water in the bottom righthand part of the picture).
Let me say, in case I haven't said it before, that I love our little northern Virginia house. It's small, but it has fit us well, and it's surprisingly functional in a lot of ways (I can also think of some un-functional things, like almost no kitchen counter space and no bathroom on the main level). However...we are quickly outgrowing it. It's a good thing we're moving not long after Baby arrives, because we're thisclose to this little house not working for us at all anymore. (I realize this is a "first world problem.") I'm not exactly sure what this has to do with belly pictures; maybe I'm reminded of it because of the "belongings bomb" pictured above that seems to constantly exist in our non-entryway (seriously, we have NO entryway -- you walk into our front door and practically trip over our couch). Or maybe because I've spent the entire weekend thinking up creative ways to fit Baby into our bedroom, without making it a complete tripping/fire hazard. Either way, Chet and I are looking forward to having a bit more living space in Texas. We also plan on acquiring a bigger dining room table and a king-sized bed once there -- it's high time for both.
I hope you've had a lovely weekend so far! Church is cancelled for us this morning (I think the main reason is because it would have been impossible to clear the parking lots of snow in time), but it stopped snowing last night, so hopefully the plows will have a chance to swing through our neighborhood before work/school tomorrow!
Monday, January 4, 2016
Merry New Birthday!
The odd title of this post is my way of foreshadowing that this is going to be the fastest synopsis ever of what we've been up to since November 28th (how embarrassing that that's the last time I blogged).
I'm sure I'll leave things out.
I plan on going back and elaborating on certain topics, and including pictures.
Here we go.
December 5, 7 - 9: I attended rehearsals for our church's Living Christmas Tree.
December 10 - 13: Living Christmas Tree performances (seven in all). (It wasn't until the evening of the 13th that I realized I hadn't been home to help put the kids to bed since the night of December 6th! Good thing Chet is so capable...)
December 12 - 17: Didi and Papa Dave came to visit, and celebrate an early Christmas (they, and Chet and the girls saw the last performance of the Living Christmas Tree on Sunday evening).
December 14: Chet and I both were able to volunteer at Sydney's Christmas (I mean, Holiday) party at school (thanks to Didi and Papa Dave for holding down the fort at home). Syd was thrilled to have us both there.
December 17: Didi and I attended both Sydney's and Lorelei's Holiday/Christmas performances at their respective schools.
December 17/18: Lorelei's and Sydney's last day of school for winter break.
December 19: Chet and I went on a date, thanks to our church's monthly babysitting program. Ford also received his first "bad" haircut.
December 21 - 23: Nonstop rain, and the kids and I barely survived without a schedule at home, waiting for Christmas. (This included a fun trip to the dentist for Sydney with everyone in tow on December 23rd.) I grocery shopped with all of the amateurs/other procrastinators on the night of December 23rd.
December 24: Chet thankfully only had to work the morning, so we had family time at home (inside the house, because it was still raining) on Christmas Eve.
Christmas Day: Happy birthday, Jesus!
December 27: We left early in the morning, headed for North Carolina (the Charlotte area) to spend time with Chet's family the week after Christmas. (It was a 6-hour drive; we made it in 9.)
December 29: Morning Christmas celebration with Chet's family.
December 30: Early birthday celebration for Ford with Chet's family.
December 31: I actually stayed awake until midnight.
January 1: Happy 2016! We departed North Carolina and made it home in 8 hours. We discovered Ford was running a fever, which always makes things more interesting.
January 2: Unpack, unpack, unpack. Also, I cut Chet's hair for the first time. (The day after Ford's bad haircut we bought clippers from Amazon so that I could give him bad haircuts for free.)
January 3: Church, unpack, cut Chet's hair a little more, go to the store for milk and other bare necessities after going on a trip. (Target was all out of bread. How is that possible?)
January 4: Girls go back to school, I go to the dentist at 9:30 for a routine cleaning, and Chet's coworker complements him on his superb haircut.
Here's what's coming up:
Tomorrow, January 5: Our baby boy turns 2! (I should really blog about his birth...)
January 6: 32-week OB appointment (it's getting close!).
January 7: Ford's 2-year doctor appointment (no more doctor visits this week, please!).
January 12: Chet's birthday!
January 27: Sydney's 6th birthday!
January 31: Yours truly's birthday!
Whew. I'll share just enough pictures to keep you reading this blog, and then I have to help Chet wrestle the kids into bed.
Our birthday cake for Jesus. Sydney was really adamant about putting His "age" on the cake, so we had to improvise (look closely and you'll see we had to use a "5" for the last "s" in His name):
I'm sure I'll leave things out.
I plan on going back and elaborating on certain topics, and including pictures.
Here we go.
December 5, 7 - 9: I attended rehearsals for our church's Living Christmas Tree.
December 10 - 13: Living Christmas Tree performances (seven in all). (It wasn't until the evening of the 13th that I realized I hadn't been home to help put the kids to bed since the night of December 6th! Good thing Chet is so capable...)
December 12 - 17: Didi and Papa Dave came to visit, and celebrate an early Christmas (they, and Chet and the girls saw the last performance of the Living Christmas Tree on Sunday evening).
December 14: Chet and I both were able to volunteer at Sydney's Christmas (I mean, Holiday) party at school (thanks to Didi and Papa Dave for holding down the fort at home). Syd was thrilled to have us both there.
December 17: Didi and I attended both Sydney's and Lorelei's Holiday/Christmas performances at their respective schools.
December 17/18: Lorelei's and Sydney's last day of school for winter break.
December 19: Chet and I went on a date, thanks to our church's monthly babysitting program. Ford also received his first "bad" haircut.
December 21 - 23: Nonstop rain, and the kids and I barely survived without a schedule at home, waiting for Christmas. (This included a fun trip to the dentist for Sydney with everyone in tow on December 23rd.) I grocery shopped with all of the amateurs/other procrastinators on the night of December 23rd.
December 24: Chet thankfully only had to work the morning, so we had family time at home (inside the house, because it was still raining) on Christmas Eve.
Christmas Day: Happy birthday, Jesus!
December 27: We left early in the morning, headed for North Carolina (the Charlotte area) to spend time with Chet's family the week after Christmas. (It was a 6-hour drive; we made it in 9.)
December 29: Morning Christmas celebration with Chet's family.
December 30: Early birthday celebration for Ford with Chet's family.
December 31: I actually stayed awake until midnight.
January 1: Happy 2016! We departed North Carolina and made it home in 8 hours. We discovered Ford was running a fever, which always makes things more interesting.
January 2: Unpack, unpack, unpack. Also, I cut Chet's hair for the first time. (The day after Ford's bad haircut we bought clippers from Amazon so that I could give him bad haircuts for free.)
January 3: Church, unpack, cut Chet's hair a little more, go to the store for milk and other bare necessities after going on a trip. (Target was all out of bread. How is that possible?)
January 4: Girls go back to school, I go to the dentist at 9:30 for a routine cleaning, and Chet's coworker complements him on his superb haircut.
Here's what's coming up:
Tomorrow, January 5: Our baby boy turns 2! (I should really blog about his birth...)
January 6: 32-week OB appointment (it's getting close!).
January 7: Ford's 2-year doctor appointment (no more doctor visits this week, please!).
January 12: Chet's birthday!
January 27: Sydney's 6th birthday!
January 31: Yours truly's birthday!
Whew. I'll share just enough pictures to keep you reading this blog, and then I have to help Chet wrestle the kids into bed.
Our birthday cake for Jesus. Sydney was really adamant about putting His "age" on the cake, so we had to improvise (look closely and you'll see we had to use a "5" for the last "s" in His name):
Ready to hit the road on December 27th:
More cake. Syd did about half of those decorative dots herself:
The boy's not shy. He'd have us sing "Happy Birthday" all day, every day to him if any of us had the stamina:
What I lovingly refer to as the post-trip bomb. It only got worse after this (it's slightly better now):
The girls playing happily Saturday morning with their new Calico Critter treehouse school (thank you, Aunt Carol!), while Chet and I dealt with the downstairs mess:
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