It's a Funny Thing

Time, it's a funny thing.
Sometimes it seems as if life is zooming by at break neck speeds.
You look at your baby girl and realize she has been here nearly 9 whole years.
That's more than twice as long as high school.
And high school seemed to last FOREVER.
Yet, those 9 years seem to have gone by in the blink of an eye.
Some weeks have barley begun before you are in the weekend again, regardless of weather or not you got all of the items on your to do list completed.
Then there are weeks that drag by, every hour seems to last a whole day.
Then there is pregnancy time.
It's a whole other ball game.
In "normal life" time 18 weeks would fly by and spring would be here tomorrow.
But in pregnancy time 18 weeks may as well be 18 years.
I feel like this baby is never going to be born, like it's just some sort of fantasy.
I feel like the weeks take years, slowly ticking away.
I kept thinking the holidays would speed things up and that Christmas would be here before I could blink, but not this year.
Time is like slow, sticky molasses to me right now.
I suppose I should just enjoy it for once.
I should just enjoy my kids right here where they are and be glad they are not growing so fast, at least for the next 18 weeks that this time warp lasts.
Because we all know that once pregnancy time is over, the post pregnancy time flies by at triple speed.
Before you can even take a hot shower you look down and you have a 1 year old.
Time, it's a funny, funny thing.
And this week, it's torturing me! I hope I can keep my sanity for the next 18 painful, deliriously slow weeks.

True Confessions of a Stay At Home Mom

• When the boys are driving me nuts and I don't have anything else for them to do I put them in the tub, just to get them out of my hair (plus they can always use a bath!)
• I have a secret chocolate stash that the kids have no idea even exists
• Plus every time I go grocery shopping with out any kids I buy a candy bar or some other treat and eat it all on the drive home, then I hide the evidence
  
• My favorite lunch is cranberry pecan salad with feta cheese (even though I'm not supposed to eat soft cheese while I'm prego)
• Sometimes my kids make me laugh so hard I pee a little in my pants (darn pregnancy bladder)
• I wait until I have a huge mountain of laundry before they get folded and put away
• When Mr Bird gets home from work I am more than happy to let the kids torment him the rest of the evening
• What would I do without Mr Bird
• Sometimes I take my kids to the library for chess club just so I can see that other people really exist
  
• I secretly like it when I see other people's children being naughty in public
• Mine are never naughty in public, only at home (hahahahaahahaha, I kill myself)
  
• Park days save my sanity (it's going to be a very, very long winter)
• Every time I get pregnant inside I am so excited that I don't have to watch my weight (at least for a few months)
• My desk is the messiest place in the whole house
• I need to stop telling all my deep dark secrets
• Truth is, I love being a mom, wholes in the couch and all!
  

The Calm After the Storm

We all survived the couch incident.
After a few hours to cool off and time to re-asses the damage and reading the sage words of advise from my wonderful blogosphere friends, I realized it was not the end of the world after all.
Beano has been justly dealt with.
We had a nice long talk about taking care of the things God has given us and just what it takes to get those nice things.
There were strict consequences put in place.
Long term consequences.
The damage will not just disappear.
We will not cart away the damaged couch and magically replace it with a new one.
We want him to know that his choices have permanent consequences.
This will not just go away just because we throw some money at it.
So, we have opted to repair the damage the best we can and live with a scarred couch.
Plus what's the point of getting nice couches when the kids are still little? There will be plenty of time for that when the kids are much, much older and more responsible. So what if that's still 15+ years away!
Mr Bird and I hugged Beano and told him that we still love him.
He is after all, our only little Beano.
During the whole thing Beano did feel really bad.
He looked like he wanted to cry.
My heart just about broke for him.
Then I started crying again.
These pregnancy hormones have got to give it a rest already!

Multiple Choice

What would you do if your 7 year old Heathen did this to your leather couch?

a. Beat him to a pulp
b. Put him in time out for the rest of his life
c. Scream at him until you're blue in the face
d. Lock yourself in your bedroom and cry like a baby

While none of these reactions seem rational, a part of me wanted to do all of the above.
But instead I chose d
Then I called Mr Bird for his counsel.
He told me not to let my pregnancy hormones get too out of control (as I sobbed into his ear piece) and we'd talk to Beano when he got home from work.
So for now he knows something is coming, he just doesn't know what yet.
And quite frankly, neither do I.
How is a parent to respond?
I know it's only a couch, but come on, in reality it is a big deal.
The tear is right on the middle cushion, when we sit on it now it will only stretch and get worse.
Then it's only a matter of time before little fingers start pulling at the exposed stuffing.
It's ruined, completely worthless now, the whole couch.
And what do you do when it's a part of a 4 piece set.
Basically the whole living room set is ruined, totally destroyed.
I can not be the only person in this house trying to take care of our things.
Don't even get me started about what they did on Saturday concerning a box of apples.
I don't want to live in a dump (I had enough of that as a child), but it seems like everyday our kids are trying their darndest to destroy everything we own.
OK, I may be letting my emotions get the best of me and I may be exaggerating just a little.
But really, how am I supposed to shower without the house falling down around my ears?
What can they demolish in the 30 seconds it takes me to empty my bladder?
I'm afraid to find out.
It's like they wait for the moment my eyes wonder away for 2 seconds and something else is drenched with water or scratched or broken.
I am seriously going to loose it.
I am even temped to send them to public school just so I can have a moment of peace, not worrying about the house falling to the ground because I decide to check my e-mail, like every other mother in America gets.
Then I could clean my house in the morning and it might stay that way for 4 whole hours.
That is music to my ears right now...

I bet you're wondering what he used to gouge my couch beyond repair?
Yup, that tiny thing.
It's the blade from a hand held pencil sharpener.
Yesterday Doodle was sharpening a pencil and the little screw worked its way out and the blade went flying. We looked high and low, but it was nowhere to be found.
Well, I guess Beano found it this morning.

So, seriously, I need advise.
How is a parent to respond?

p.s. I really am temped to drive them to the local elementary school in the morning and enroll them all. Please, someone talk me out of it!

In Every Way

Mr Bird has an entourage.
The very moment he walks in the door he has four little monsters nipping at his heals.
Of course we all know that dad is way cooler than mom, any day of the week.

After all, when was the last time mom took apart her bike and put on new components in the middle of the living room?
Or used a real tool for what it was intended for?
Or used the 12+ year old mission bike for things like grueling mountain bike trails?
Or even knew the first thing about mountain biking?

When Mr Bird goes on a bike ride he is so good to take the kids (the ones who can ride well) with him.
They worship him for that.
That is way more fun than learning math facts and practicing writing.
Why is that the dads get the fun part of parenthood?
I help them with chores and clean their bums and teach them boring stuff like how to read and how America came to be.
I make them clean up their messes and disciple them all day long.
With me they learn to fold laundry and vacuum the floor and to be nice.

With dad it's watching a movie or going on a bike ride or doggy piles on the floor or dancing to the music turned up too loud.
It's no wonder they want to be like him in every way.
You know what? I do too.
He's a pretty cool guy, sure do love him for the wonderful father he is.
I love that we all look forward to him coming home from work every night.
I love that he acts surprised when the kids try to jump out and scare him every. single. night.
I love that he always has a huge hug for all the kids and how he makes each of them feel so special.
I love how he leads our home in love and respect.
I love that he eats my attempts at healthy dinners even when they don't turn out so well.
I love that he loves me.
Plus he's always such an inspiration to me, I feel like he is always lifting me up, helping to make me a better mother and wife.
Call it the pregnancy hormones making this one so corny, but I seriously don't know what I'd ever do without my lover.
So Mr Bird, this day in November, I am oh so very thankful for YOU!

Foiled Again...

Gender.
It's a big deal when you're expecting.
There are clothes to be bought and blankets to be made.
There are bumper pads and curtains to think about.
I am a planner.
Which bedroom will this little being claim, the girl's room or the boys?
And don't even get me started on names.
Mr bird did not want to find out the gender when I was pregnant with Baby Cakes.
About half way through the pregnancy I could not stand it any more.
Especially since my midwife's office did an ultrasound at every single prenatal appointment.
I told Mr Bird I was planning on finding out the gender at my next appointment and that I'd keep it a secret for his benefit if he would like.
He said if I knew he may as well know, too.
He knows me too well, I'd slip somehow and ruin it for him before the end of the pregnancy.
I had my heart set on a little girl, a sister for Doodle.
When the midwife told me it was a boy I was literally in shock.
I had KNOWN it was a girl.
I nearly started crying. I could not take my eyes off the monitor to look at my family, I would have totally lost it.
Somehow I held it together until I got on the road and then I cried all the way home.
Even then I thought she was mistaken and she'd tell me at my next appointment that I was really carrying a girl.
No such luck, he stayed a boy.
I can admit that now because nearly 3 years later I love that little boy fiercely.
I would not trade him for 100 sisters for Doodle.
He has been the joy and light in our family that I don't think we could ever be without.
SO, back to this pregnancy.
During pregnancy negotiations Mr Bird said I could only get pregnant if we did not find out the gender for really reals this time.
Of course I said yes, I would have said yes to almost anything at that point.
You all know how much I wanted another baby, that sounded like music to my ears.
But now...
I am going crazy.
I can't even walk past the fabric section at Wal-Mart without getting restless.
My brain wants to plan.
I want drawers full of clean baby clothes all ready for the moment the baby comes into the world.
I want coordinating diaper bags and car seat covers.
I want blankets and baby socks galore.
I want to sew something so badly!
And forget about yellow and green everything, I'd rather have a naked baby for months than yellow and green.
So I thought of a plan.
You know how it seems like everyone you know is either having boys or girls at the same time?
They come in waves.
For months everyone has nothing but boys, then suddenly there are no boys to be found and girls top the charts.
For the last year I don't know one single person that has had a girl, they've ALL been boys.
I know 6 women that are due within a month of my due date, my cute niece Tiffany and I even share the very same due date.
I figured I'd just wait to find out what they are all having and I'd just know that my baby would be the same, it's just how these things work.
Well, even that plan has been foiled.
So far 4 of the women have found out what they're having.
Guess what the stats are?
Yep!Girls 2, boys 2.
Now how am I supposed to find out the gender??!?!
Looks like the tides are changing.
The question is, which wave will I be riding?

A Better Way

Newborn Doodle April 2002

When I was expecting Doodle I had a great idea.
My sister and I were talking about childbirth and she told me of the experiences she had had in delivering her first 3 babies at home with a midwife.
I knew right then and there that I wanted to birth my baby at home.
It seemed so natural and sweet to me. I wanted a quiet birth, on my own turf.
I looked over at Mr Bird and he immediately started shaking his head.
He would not hear one word of any of it.
We were going to the hospital were there are doctors and emergency supplies.
I saw how resistant he was and decided not to push the issue.
I did not get online and research midwives or their safety practices.
I did not read natural child birth books.
I let the doctors and nurses tell me what to do every step of the way.
When the pain got unbearable because of the petocin, I got the epidural.
I was dilated to a 10 and ready to push for 20 minutes before my doctor finally got there and they let me push.
He came for the pushing and was there less than an hour total for the whole 16+ hour labor.
I knew I wanted something different for the next baby.
With every pregnancy home birth was on my mind.
With every pregnancy Mr Bird shot the very idea out of the water.
I found a midwife that delivers babies in the hospitals and she was amazing.
I loved her to death.
She was with me for a lot of labor, helping me to find a better position, telling Mr Bird where to rub my back, fending the nurses off with a stick every time they'd ask if I was ready for an epidural.
I had my boys with no pain meds. She was so great.
I can't tell you the difference between her and that silly doctor.
Still, there were a lot of things that I did not want with those births.
The I.V. bas, the being strapped to the bed (or the general vicinity) to accommodate the fetal monitors and blood pressure cuff.
Nurses in the room every 5 minutes all night long, making sleep a thing only to be dreamed of.
The hospital still had their protocol that I hated.
This time things will be different.
When Mr Bird and I were going through negotiations of weather or not to have another baby we had all but agreed we wanted to add to our family.
He said if we could go the whole pregnancy without finding out the gender, we was game.
He wanted the experience when the baby is born and some one yells, "It's a boy!"
I quickly agreed, and added my demand.
"I want to have this baby at home."
To my udder shock and surprise, he said YES!
To be continued...