Welcome Littlest Weaver

Little Miss Mae (Little M&M) joined our family Friday March 18, 2011 at 10:44pm.
It's amazing how we went from the above photo to the lower photo in just a few hours.

Little M&M weighed 6 pounds, 14 ounces and was 19 1/4 inches long.
She was born at home, in our bedroom. What an incredible experience, I would not have had it any other way.

I will not post all the details of the birth tonight, but wanted to post some pictures for those of you who have been asking ever so nicely.

You're welcome!

We are all so thrilled she is here. What a sweet addition to our family.

Doodle is beyond thrilled to have a sister. She is convinced this little girl is all hers.
She even wrote me a letter the following day. Here's what it said:
Dear Mom,
I love you so so so much.
I am so glad we got a girl.
You're the best mom ever.
Love, Doodle

If you ask me, I think I've got two of the sweetest girls ever!

My Sanity...Hanging by a Thread

The count down is officially on.
I am officially 3 weeks away from my official due date.
That means I have an official reason to be grumpy, right?
Well, even if my reason is not official, I am.
Grumpy that is.
Maybe grumpy is not the right word.
More like irritable.
More like, "Don't look at me or I might snap your head off!"
I am trying really hard to stay calm and carry on, but it's getting increasingly difficult.
Especially at church or anywhere else in public.
People see me coming and their faces change.
I watch their eyes widen as they follow my belly.
When they do make contact all they can think to say is, "When are you due?" or
"Look how big you're getting, you must be due any day!"
It takes all my will power to not scream at the nice old ladies, "NEVER! This baby is NEVER coming out, EVER! I'm doomed to stay like this for what seems like FOREVER!"
or
"I have been telling you for the past 5 months the same exact date, it realy has not changed. And besides, I never deliver before my dute date so it just might really be 5 WEEKS instead of 3."
or
"I have no idea when this baby is coming out of me, I wish it were up to me and I could give you a real answer."
or
"STOP STARING AT ME!"
I think I was asked when this baby is coming no less that 30 times this weekend.
Maybe I should start wearing a sign that says my due date and post it to my belly so people don't have to ask.
You know, like the little count down thingy I have on my blog.
Genius! I could make a million dollars with this idea.
Some sort of digital pregnancy count down thingy so people can stop torturing us pregnant ladies.
And it can scroll through other important messages like:
"I know I look like a swollen blob, but that does not give you an excuse to look at me!"

I am very aware that I sound like a 3 year old, thank you very much!
I guess the Sunbeams I teach are rubbing off on me.
OK, I may be exaggerating a little.
But I do hate this part because it is like people must constantly remind me that I still have 3-5 more weeks (let's be realistic) of bladder squishing, crazy dreams at night, bloatedness.
All the while I can feel this little one all wriggly and I know there's a beautiful baby in there and all I'm dying to do is hold it and kiss it and nurse it.
It's just so close, yet so far.
I really hope my sanity can hold out for another few weeks.
I may just decide to not leave the house again until the blessed day.
Heaven knows I have enough nesting to do to keep me good and busy until then!

Up

Ever since I met Mr Bird he has had one dream that has never faltered.
He has wanted to be a train engineer.
The man loves everything and anything to do with trains.
We attend the annual reenactment of the driving of the golden spike every May 10th.
We pack up all the kids, enough food for the day and blankets and drive an hour to get to the absolute middle of nowhere to witness this celebration.
We visit our local train museum on historic 25th Street in downtown Ogden (with and without the children) at least once a year.
We attend the local train convention where collectors from all over the country convene at above mentioned 25th Street museum.
They set up the most elaborate model train sets you could ever imagine.
Every size, shape and color.
Every year Mr Bird drools over their master pieces.
In fact, when I first met Mr Bird, he had a model train set in his bedroom that went along the top perimeter of his bedroom.
I still remember his excitement to show me his train running along the tracks.
I still remember his disappointment when he took it all down so we could move into our very first house together.
Well, guess what Mr Bird?
I may have found something cooler for you than being a train engineer.
How about a world-class balloon pilot!
Check this out!

"March 5 at dawn, National Geographic Channel and a team of scientists, engineers, and two world-class balloon pilots successfully launched a 16' X 16' house 18' tall with 300 8' colored weather balloons from a private airfield east of Los Angeles."

What do you think?
I smell a new hobby for my lover!
Click here for more amazing photos of this Disney Pixar inspired project!

The Circle K

"Strange things are afoot at the Circle K..."
(name that movie)
Or should I say, strange things are afoot the the Weavers!
Let me give you a little background.
Baby Cakes (whose not a baby anymore) is always telling Mr Bird and I (and anyone who will sit still and listen) all about his "friends".
I assumed they are imaginary since he has yet to have a play day at a friends house without mom.
He's always saying things like, "I do math at my friend's house." or "My friend let me play with his motorcycle when I was at their house."
When we ask him about said friends he tell us they live in his secret lab, and apparently there are millions of them and they come in all kinds of colors.
It's a well known fact that his "secret lab" is a space under the bushes in the side of our yard that the kids hide out in during the nicer days when the sun is shining.
A while ago he started saying things like, "One of my friends died tomorrow."
(tomorrow is the word he uses for any reference to time, weather it be yesterday or next week or last year.)
Then he started telling me that the ghosties let him play with them and that the ghosties were his friends.
I know, weird right?
So what do you think, little kid with a great imagination or do I need to be worried?
Well, I have not been too worried, until this morning.
We were starting our morning devotional to get our school day going when all of a sudden there was a noise upstairs in the bathroom that's getting a face lift.
I looked around the room to see who had snuck out and was upstairs.
All of my children were looking at me with wide eyes.
I listened more closely.
It was music.
Mr Bird and I had done some work on the bathroom last night and had left a radio plugged in.
Spontaneously, it turned on and was playing Cold Play for our listening pleasure.
I sat there in stunned silence for a few moment, trying to rationalize what had just happened.
No logical explanation came to mind.
Then I thought of Baby's ghosties.
Could it be?
Then get this!
Just as I started typing this very post my Internet browser turned off.
No warning, nothing, just poof!
All that was in front of my face was my cow screen saver.
Luckily, Blogger had saved my draft (most of it) and I was able to click on Firefox again and continue my post.
If the radio were not enough, the Internet has me really freaked out.
So help a girl out, what explanations could there be for these erratic occurrences?
My imagination?
Baby's ghostie friends?
Want to know something else weird?
I just noticed this week that the convenience store near our home is a Circle K.
Do, do, do, do, do, do, do, do!
(Twilight Zone theme music playing in my head)

Pregnancy Sleep 101

I think I may have found the cure for 3rd trimester night time restlessness.
You know, that feeling of being beyond exhausted, dreaming of your bed and falling into a deep slumber only to lay there and toss and turn, without a comfortable position to be found.
The hips ache, the belly is huge and cumbersome, the back is off limits.
And to top it all off, restless leg syndrome.
If you've never experienced that, count yourself lucky.
You lay there and for no apparent reason the legs must move.
They will not stop, even if you're just moments away from a really good dream.
Those legs will pull you out of dreamland in an instant with those uncontrollable jerks.
It would literally take hours to even fall asleep, and then if anything awoke me during the night it was literally impossible to get back to sleep.
Then there are the leg cramps, don't even get me started.
Want to know my secret to 3rd trimester sleep?
It's actually a combination of things.
I've found that if I leave one of these things out, my night is over.
Step 1. 1200mg of calcium with magnesium an hour before bed.
My midwife says dark chocolate is one of the highest source of magnesium in our food supply.
Man, I love that lady. Now I have an excuse to eat chocolate before bed. Every night!
Step 2. Sleepytime tea 15-20 minutes before bed.
Warm chamomile and other wholesome herbs with a touch of honey, need I say more?
Step 3. Light leg stretches just before you hop in the blankets. I've omitted this one time to time and I literally have to get myself out of bed, usually an hour after I've gotten in, and do the stretches. Then I get back in bed and am asleep in minutes.
Step 4. Boppy Total Body Pillow. Enough said.
Mr Bird got me one for Valentine's day. I was skeptical to say the least. I've had body pillows before and found them huge and cumbersome and suffocating. The first night I snuggled up to the Boppy I was in heaven! No joke. I have slept better the last 4 nights than I have in the last trimester of any of my pregnancies combined. I wondered if it was a fluke the first night, but the same wonderland sleep has found me every night since. It has been heavenly. I feel rested and almost human again. I wish I had this 4 babies ago.
And no, this is not a paid advertisement for Boppy, just a recipe for a good night's sleep!
Sweet Dreams!

The Homeschool Roller Coaster

I must start by saying how much I love homeschool.
I love having my kids here with me and going for a walk on the parkway on sunny days after lunch.
We love to see the ice cold river and the winter birds that did not fly south for the winter.
We love the contrast of the winter trees as compared to the vibrant summer colors and the cool shades of the fall leaves.
I love it when Beano reads to me and begs to do "just one more chapter".
Then, before we know it, he's read the whole book.
He likes to read to me so much because he thinks he's really reading to his baby (which I guess he is and which I also really love).
I love it when Doodle plays me piano songs before breakfast.
If she had to go to school she'd be rushing to get ready for school instead of making beautiful music.
I love reading scriptures from the New Testament with my children.
It was the New Testament I fell in love with first, it was the first volume of scripture I ever read on my own.
I fell in love with Christ and I love reading and teaching His stories to my children every single day.
I feel like I'm finding that part of myself again in the process and it's truly magical.
But just like everything in life, homeschool is a definite roller coaster.
We have incredibly great highs.
Highs that make me feel like we could (and will) do anything.
Then there are the lows.
This is when I struggle with my sanity.
Questions whirl through my mind.
Am I doing enough for them?
Are they learning all they need to know?
What do they really need to know?
Do we play too much?
What curriculum should we use, or should we just wing it and learn what we want, on our own time table?
Am I even doing this right?
I struggle with these questions, some days more than others.
I worry my kids only practice their writing skills because I make them and not because they love to do it.
Yet I am at a loss as to how to inspire them to truly love writing.
I love writing, but how did that passion grow in me when I was young?
I honestly don't remember.
Maybe it didn't come until college.
Homeschool can be really fun and really hard, all on the same day.
So how do I combat the homeschool roller coaster?
I pray.
I look at Charter schools online.
I look at "What your 3rd grader should know" on google searches.
Then I realize I'm not doing as badly as I thought.
I listen to them as they read and make notes about where they need more focus.
I look at their writing and see their continued mistakes (like contractions) and we have a mini lesson about contractions.
We take a break to reevaluate our goals and methods.
Sometimes we take a whole week and do no school work at all.
Then I really start to feel the heat.
I feel neglectful of their education and for some reason that fuels my fire to want to do better.
I talk with other home school moms and find out what works for their kids.
But mostly I pray.
And then I lock myself in my room and have a really good cry and pray some more.
Then we eat lunch and I pray in my mind as the kids chatter away with food in their mouths.
I relish their noise.
Then I feel peace.
That is, until the next thrilling turn of the ride.

Of Men and Angels

When I was in Jr. High and High school I walked home from school every day.
That does not seem that uncommon, right?
The thing is, I walked 3 miles in blistering heat, rain, and even hail storms a time or two for 6 straight years (starting at 12 years old).
I was not one of those kids whose parents bought them a car at 16.
I was lucky if I had an umbrella.
I did have a job later in high school, but the money was spent helping my mom with rent and utilities on our tiny 2 bedroom apartment.
There was no extra moo-la for a car plus insurance and gas.
No matter the weather, I walked.
For the most part I enjoyed my walks.
I enjoyed the smell of the air when fall came.
I loved shuffling my feet through the fallen leaves scattered on the sidewalks.
I enjoyed smelling the smoke being sent up in big billows from the homes in the neighborhoods when winter came.
I enjoyed watching the dogs in the back yards yip at me from their 10x10 fenced yards.
Sometimes I just liked to be in the sunshine and watch the puffy clouds go by.
I enjoyed the uninterrupted silence and the chance it gave me to dream about my future.
What can I say, I've always been a dreamer.
It gave me a sense of independence and hope for my future.
There were many times in my youth, including my alone time on my daily walks, when I felt I had angles literally following my every foot step.
They seemed so close some times that I felt I could just turn around and start talking to them, yet I knew no one was there.
Even typing this now, over 15 years later, brings back the same feelings I had back then.
The town I grew up in is one of the worst in the entire country, as far a crime rates.
Yet, as a teenager I did not know that.
I do know that on several instances strange men in unfamiliar cars stopped and pulled up along side me, offering me a ride.
I did what the text books say and avoided eye contact and kept walking.
That worked for all but one guy. He was relentless and seemed bent on me getting in his car.
It came to the point where I stopped walking and entered the side yard of one of the houses in the neighborhood to get away from him.
I was praying no one was home, which ended up being the case, thank heaven.
I waited in that strangers back yard until the car finally sped away.
I think I walked faster the rest of the way home that day than I ever had in my entire life.
I have often wondered what could have happened that day if he had not left.
My mind does not like to go to that place.
Last night I was browsing the Internet and I was curious about the crime rate in our local area.
I found some crime reports on the Internet and was actually shocked at how high the rate here is.
I had considered our area pretty quiet.
Then, I went to the crime reports for the town I grew up in.
I found some daunting facts.
It turns out, and I quote, "This city is safer than 2% of the cities in the US."
Talk about bottom of the barrel.
It also says if you live in Stockton you have a 1 in 63 person chance of being a victim of violent crime.
But this is the one that nearly scared my socks right off.
Every year in my beloved home town there are a whopping 407 crimes per square mile.
These stats made my new place of residence seem like utopia.
And to think, I walked thorough 3 of those miles every single school day of the year for 6 years.
OK, that's not true, on the rare occasion I had some spare change I rode the city bus.
But I can honestly say I think I was better off walking.
And yet not a hair on my head was ever harmed, scared to death a few times, but never did anything bad ever happen to me.
So about those angels I was talking about.
I used to think maybe I was a little crazy for thinking I had angels in my midst.
Now, I realize that may have been the only way I ever made it though all those years unscathed.