Good Enough

How to type with one hand.

That my sweat smells weird when I’m nursing…(TMI?)

Showering has become a luxury not easily afforded.

I miss my clothes.

I like to stare at the baby for hours.

I think everyone else likes to stare at my baby.

I should be sleeping instead of staring at the baby.

I can fall asleep anywhere, anytime, and have woken up only due to the kink in my neck.

I miss my other kids.

Life is good…something it’s hard for me to remember when I’m pregnant.

The calm before the storm…

I guess I should have gotten more sleep the evening before, but you know, my last birth had gone so smoothly.

12 hours of labor with a child “sunny side up” and an epidural that was not working correctly and threats of a c-section from an unsympathetic doctor…and I was finally able to glimpse my treasure.

She was so worth it. 7lbs. 2 oz. Love at first sight.

Her brother’s and sister love her too.

It is 3:18am here in the Northwest, and I cannot sleep.

This could very well be my last chance to sleep for a solid 4 hours for the next year of my life…but instead of sleeping, I’m sitting here, waisting time. I’m not even trying to be productive. The kitchen could use a final clean, my bag could be packed, I could shave my legs in a nice warm bath…

But instead I’m just sitting here. Daydreaming. Actually nightdreaming technically. It is dark outside, which makes it officially night, according to my kidlets.

In a few hours I will be anticipating a phone call, telling me I can come in and start the process of having this not so wee one I’ve been carrying for the last 40 weeks.

It’s been a long 40 weeks. Of course, I don’t have to tell you all that. You’ve been reading. Or you’ve stopped reading, because you just couldn’t handle the ramblings of an emotional pregnant woman.

I’m excited to meet this new life. My mind is already bent on it. Perhaps that is why I’ve been so utterly bored for the past few weeks. I’m ready for phase 2. I’m ready to hold, and feed, and cuddle and change.

I’m ready for the whirlwind that will be four children under one small roof…

I’m ready to be active again. To run, wrestle, jump, dance, and especially stretch out on my belly. I miss yoga.

I’m apprehensive, life is always such a miracle, and I know it happens everyday, but there are so many things that go wrong as well. I want everything to flow perfectly.

I look at Mr.Good in awe. He looks so young. He just turned 31 on Saturday, (not that that isn’t young,) I’m ten months older, but I feel like it was only yesterday that we were pregnant with our oldest. He’s 7 now. It’s gone by in a blink.

I remember a night much like this 7 years and 2 months ago, when my water broke. Mr.Good and I were standing in the bathroom laughing, wondering if it was really happening. No contractions came but my bag leaked all night. I stayed up watching TV and he went to bed. He’s always been able to sleep through the excitement. I don’t get it.

I’ve never been able to sleep through anything…except movies…anyway, 3 more hours and I’ll be expecting a phone call telling me to come in. So maybe I should try to close my eyes for awhile?

Goodnight all.

You have to know my friend Sharie to understand passion. When that girl takes on a cause she really follows through…

So I stumble upon her latest movement…and I smile. She’s at it again and I hope it catches.

I have to say that I can’t take up a flag with you Sharie, I’m 10 months pregnant, and live in an extremely hilly and wet region. Just walking up the stairs right now and my uterus screams at me.

When our farm is complete maybe we’ll get an old fashioned coach and two horses?

Or maybe I’ll start converting my vegetable oil into gasoline?

For now I applaud from afar!

So two weeks ago whilst Missy was enjoying an Equestrian experience…really she’s enjoying herself, I don’t know what the deal is with her scowl in this photo!

I decided that bringing my boys berry picking at the local U-pick farm would be a wonderful experience for ALL involved…umm…yeah. I guess I forgot about my experience berry picking with my mom as a child. The first fifteen minutes were delightful, and then I spent the next 2 hours wondering how my mom could search through every leaf, gleaning off the strawberries, moving down the long row at a snails pace. It wasn’t fun for me. It was torture!

Like I said, I must have forgotten all this, but it came flooding back to me in visions as I tried to pick as many berries as my pregnant body could handle. This one did okay for about 30 minutes. I had him sit across from me and I made it into a sort of contest. Buster is very competitive and was able to concentrate for the most part.

The problem was…my 2 year old. Don’t let the care free exterior fool you. He liked being in the strawberry patch, but he also like playing sword fights with the stakes at the end of the rows, throwing dirt clods, and running far far away until he just couldn’t hear mom call “COME BACK.” And when the 7 year old was sent to retrieve his little Bubba, fights ensued.

Oh it was a joyful day. My only goal was to get to the end of my rown. Scooting along on my bum because you KNOW I wasn’t leaning over with my big pregnant belly. I should mention that the row I was assigned was half the size of a normal row and I thought the goal was attainable.

In the end, after one tantrum and having to take the little one to the car to show him how serious I was about his behavior, we ended up with two whole flats! That was 11lbs. Not bad for two hours work and two bored children.

And the best part was what happened later when I made my very first homemade strawberry pies.

So worth it.

Every bite washed away the pain and agony of a hard day’s work!

Lately I get the feeling that my children are seeing the belly come first. It can be very intimidating. My oldest son keeps making comments like “not bad for a pregnant woman…” whenever I actually get something accomplished, like cleaning a room, or laundry, or dinner.

It’s getting rough, I won’t glamorize it. I think I’ll be living in sweats for the next week because nothing fits me anymore. Even if I can squeeze into something proper to wear out in public, it squeezes my lower belly the entire time causing frequent trips to the bathroom.

My belly wants to hang free and easy right now.

Getting out of bed, or a chair has become a comical performance.

Shaving my legs or clipping my toenails is a joke…and I can’t control any gas that may escape when I’m in your presence.

I HAVE NO CONTROL OVER MY BODY, PEOPLE!

But that’s okay.

7 more days…7 long days that can separate the woman from the girl.

So tonight my sweet friends are throwing me a shower…I have mixed feelings.

I love spending time with my friends, I love any reason to celebrate, and I believe that every child should have it’s own welcoming, in some way.

But contrary to my younger years, I do not like being the center of attention. I don’t like people feeling obligated that they need to buy me a present (especially with child #4) and it’s most embarrassing when I have to sit in front of everyone and open those presents.

This week my friends have been asking me what I need…I don’t know what to tell them. I do have needs for this baby, but not exactly the type of trinkets you expect to arrive at a baby shower. I’m horrible at telling people what I need.

Hence the beauty of the Internet. I can type away and pretend no one that is coming reads my blog and I can put this out there…and if you are coming, pretend you didn’t read this, and never mention it to me. It’s much funner to blog in anonymity.

I need my house deep cleaned and organized…(something I would never want people besides family to experience.)

I need a breast pump…(again not exactly something I want the group too purchase.)

I want my husband to finish the loft bed he’s building and I need to reorganize the kids rooms.

I want a rocking chair. One of those big, cushy, Pottery Barn style pick your fabric, fabulous rocking chairs…I’m embarrassed to admit it. It sounds so materialistic to me.

But it’s my FOURTH CHILD! Can I have something that will last? I envision many years to come cuddling on such a chair.

A girl can dream.

I realize I’m sounding SO ungrateful! My two bestest friends are putting themselves out to throw this party for me, which makes me feel even more inadequate. Really I’m looking forward to hanging out with everyone, and I’m honored they would take time out of busy summer scheduling to hang out with me, but I can’t help but be a little nervous for this.

Update: the shower was, of course, lovely. I feel so lucky to have so many loving friends close by. It wasn’t that awkward, and Kathrynmade sure I got the present thing over first which was good because then I wasn’t stressing the whole party. My friend Kati made so much food (she said she was only cooking for one afternoon but it would have taken me at least 2 days to do what she did.) I could go on about how fun and sweet and relaxed everyone was, but you knew it was going to be that way didn’t you? Anyway, thanks, I’m touched and it was so much fun.

I’m realizing that my guilt about bringing another child into the mix, and being stuck home afterwards has caused me to schedule everything I can fit in for my kids in the next three weeks.

Yes, Pony Camp, Swimming Lessons, Berry Picking, Log Shows.

I’m leaving no room or energy to clean my house and prepare for the new one.

Park Day exhausts me.

Driving exhausts me.

Sleeping exhausts me.

And my kids are running out of clean underwear and forks.

What is a girl to do?

I’ve been through it before…leaving a child somewhere for the first time, on their own.

When I took my eldest son to preschool, a mere 3 minutes from home, for a mere 2 hours…I’ll admit I was teary eyed.

Then I sent him on the bus to kindergarten. I hid my tears with sunglasses.

My daughter is 4 1/2 years old. I’ve done a co-op preschool where we rotate friends homes every week…but that’s it. I keep her protectively under my wing. Until today.

Today I drove 30 minutes into the hills and dropped her off at a farm for “Pony Camp.”

Missy has never been a lover of dolls. She’s one of those children who prefers the company of hairier beasts. She’s always been quite at home with animals, and she of course LOVES horses so when I saw the flier I couldn’t resist signing her up. I signed her up that very day and sent in my cash. And then I began to worry…she’s half an hour away, she knows NO ONE, she’ll be gone fore THREE HOURS, what if she gets home sick? What if she’s too shy to communicate?

Still, today I drove her up the long winding gravel roads, made some wrong turns, and finally arrived a few minutes late to Pony Camp. When she saw all the horses she was awestruck. Bianca (owner/operator) assured me she would have a great time and I was welcome to “take off.” She then proceeded to get Missy in her helmet and lead her to the line of ponies that awaited her.

“I really don’t want to take off,” I felt like saying. “I think I’ll stick around for awhile.” But in true Eve fashion I smiled and said my good-bye and left.

I made the drive home with thoughts of all that could go wrong running through my head YET AGAIN. This time some of the worries included Missy being kicked in the face by a horse, or forgotten and left behind on accident. I also felt like I should have asked Missy if she was comfortable enough for me to leave. I almost turned around and drove back.

And now I’m here counting the minutes until I can go pick up my little girl. 30 minutes and counting people! In my heart of hearts I know she’s just fine. But it sure is painful to cut those apron strings for the first time!

Update 6/23/08

This is a picture from two November’s ago. I will have fresh updates after Wednesday. My camera needs to be mended. It is not cold enough in Washington to be wearing gloves and a jacket. It is actually a very pleasant low-70’s.

When I picked Missy up, she started crying and said she couldn’t leave her new pony friend “Pretzel.” Typical. Horses over moms. I should have known.