The other day, for some reason, no one returned my calls, my emails, or responded to my blogs (for shame!). Now, I realize that not everyone spent their 3 day weekend hanging out around home for fear of being too far away if labor called. Still, it caused this little voice to pop up in my head that said - see, now you've done it you've crossed the line so horrendously that everyone is avoiding you. You have been excommunicated. Best of luck making new friends.
Usually my sense of self and worth are not so easily shaken, but it was a gentle reminder to me that I am not so independent as I sometimes like to think that I am. As easy as it is for me to write off what the world thinks of me, it is not so easy to seperate myself from fears of what people whom I respect and have come to enjoy in my life think. I am not sure this is a bad thing. I know that ultimately, it is God's opinion of me that matters, not that of his people. Yet, it seems that sometimes in the midst of this life here on earth where the Lord and I cannot chat in a tangible way, it is in and through the thoughts and insights of his people that I get a better picture of what his opion might be concerning my own life and thoughts. So, I guess interdependence is not so terrible a thing.
I am learning again and again the significance of community. Though soberingly alone before God at all moments, we are undenyably connected to other human beings around us at the same time. We are alone and together, and somehow being together helps me embrace the fact that before my God, I am truly alone.
Thursday, May 31, 2007
Sunday, May 27, 2007
Prego!
I finally realized that my camera has a timer. So I can now share a picture of my big belly before it disappears. Disappears, that's funny. I'm sure it will hang around for a while, but it won't be so full.
Saturday, May 26, 2007
Morning Indulgences
This morning Søren rose eagerly at 6:23, but when I asked him to play in his room for 40 more minutes...he actually did (well, kinda. He contented himself to bring toys from his room into ours and play with them next to the bed while he waited for us to show signs of life). I didn't have to get out of bed until 7:20! Lovely. I am enjoying this development of self-reliance. Of course, since he had played alone for an hour, once I was up I was expected to be his. We had our morning banana's and milk, and he got to snack on a cup of raisins while I made zucchini frittatas and a latte to wake my husband. I think there may have been an indulgence into the cookie jar for some meringues as well...but there is no sugar, and only a little maple syrup, so it's an indulgence I allow the little man and myself somewhat frequently. It was then followed by a washcloth bath as Søren somehow manages to cover himself in meringue dust that quickly becomes meringue adhesive.
After our little morning together I left for a coffee date with the man I have called Dad since I was 3, but who now goes by Sarah. I know, life brings the unexpected. Anyhow, we had a little visit and he actually allowed me to indulge my curiosity about what the spoon would do over his head.
He was in a shop accident that killed his man parts about 9 years ago. He doesn't make testosterone anymore (except whatever small amount comes from the adrenals, or the pituitary, or whatever little gland that is in your neck...you know where I mean, right?) and now that he lives as a woman, he takes copious amounts of estrogen. So, I have thought that he would be a good test case for my theory that the spoon's movements have nothing to do with hormones, but are rather tied to the facts of your chromosomes. No matter how much my dad does, he can't change the fact that he's XY, not XX. So, not to my surprise, the spoon rocked back and forth in a pendulum north to south over his head. Male.
Now I am home and anticipating a visit this evening with some friends/family from Portland who are bringing us their old crib for Elliot.
I know, I am leaving the subject of the fooled spoon. What of Kate? She is beautiful and alert and seems quite happy to be home. We walked over yesterday (yes, we are neighbors! So nice!) and Andrew got to meet the dear babe for the first time. He was in LOVE. I had never seen him around a baby that wasn't Søren. This guy is a sucker for people who weigh less than 9.5 pounds (and Kate weighs in at 8). He just cooed at her and talked to her as he swayed her around the room for 20 minutes or so before returning her to her mother (who is recovering remarkably well).
This man is ready for another baby, which is good, since I am fairly convinced we'll be having one soon. You may laugh, but Søren was 25 days late, and we haven't even hit the due date yet, so I'm not holding my breath. I also realized that my husband needs a daughter. We might have to have 7 sons first, but I think a daughter is a must for him.
And yes, I still delay my thoughts on the spoon. I have yet to do it over Kate's head now, perhaps my friend's belly is a crazy vortex that messed up the reading. Kate is Kate, and if for some crazy collision of rare factors she happens to have a Y chromosome slipped in there somewhere that tricked my spoon but will never manifest itself as most do...oh well. She's beautiful, and I pray that she will face her life with the same courage I hope we all have to embrace and accept who it is God made us, humbly aware that his ways are not our ways, and that he knows us and loves us as he made us.
And of course, perhaps my spoon isn't always right. It still seems worthwhile to continue to develop it's odds. Perhaps it won't fail again, perhaps it will. I'll never know if I don't keep wielding it.
After our little morning together I left for a coffee date with the man I have called Dad since I was 3, but who now goes by Sarah. I know, life brings the unexpected. Anyhow, we had a little visit and he actually allowed me to indulge my curiosity about what the spoon would do over his head.
He was in a shop accident that killed his man parts about 9 years ago. He doesn't make testosterone anymore (except whatever small amount comes from the adrenals, or the pituitary, or whatever little gland that is in your neck...you know where I mean, right?) and now that he lives as a woman, he takes copious amounts of estrogen. So, I have thought that he would be a good test case for my theory that the spoon's movements have nothing to do with hormones, but are rather tied to the facts of your chromosomes. No matter how much my dad does, he can't change the fact that he's XY, not XX. So, not to my surprise, the spoon rocked back and forth in a pendulum north to south over his head. Male.
Now I am home and anticipating a visit this evening with some friends/family from Portland who are bringing us their old crib for Elliot.
I know, I am leaving the subject of the fooled spoon. What of Kate? She is beautiful and alert and seems quite happy to be home. We walked over yesterday (yes, we are neighbors! So nice!) and Andrew got to meet the dear babe for the first time. He was in LOVE. I had never seen him around a baby that wasn't Søren. This guy is a sucker for people who weigh less than 9.5 pounds (and Kate weighs in at 8). He just cooed at her and talked to her as he swayed her around the room for 20 minutes or so before returning her to her mother (who is recovering remarkably well).
This man is ready for another baby, which is good, since I am fairly convinced we'll be having one soon. You may laugh, but Søren was 25 days late, and we haven't even hit the due date yet, so I'm not holding my breath. I also realized that my husband needs a daughter. We might have to have 7 sons first, but I think a daughter is a must for him.
And yes, I still delay my thoughts on the spoon. I have yet to do it over Kate's head now, perhaps my friend's belly is a crazy vortex that messed up the reading. Kate is Kate, and if for some crazy collision of rare factors she happens to have a Y chromosome slipped in there somewhere that tricked my spoon but will never manifest itself as most do...oh well. She's beautiful, and I pray that she will face her life with the same courage I hope we all have to embrace and accept who it is God made us, humbly aware that his ways are not our ways, and that he knows us and loves us as he made us.
And of course, perhaps my spoon isn't always right. It still seems worthwhile to continue to develop it's odds. Perhaps it won't fail again, perhaps it will. I'll never know if I don't keep wielding it.
Tuesday, May 22, 2007
Welcome Kate!
Kathryn Joy arrived this morning at 8:46 by cesarean section weighing 8lbs 1oz and is healthy. Mom is doing well, and we are looking forward to visiting this afternoon when Søren wakes from nap.
Monday, May 21, 2007
Søren Antics
Søren's curiosity and love of small spaces overcame his desire to obey me today as he crawled into the fireplace. We have been meaning to get a gate for it, but he has done such a good job of staying out of it that it has taken a back seat to other things.
Unfortunately, rather than really take the time to discipline him - though he knew it was serious business - I had to reward him with one of his favorite things: bath time.
This preceded him accidentally spilling an entire sippy cup of milk onto the middle of the living room floor while I was trying to start dinner. At this point in the evening I decided that Søren might be trying to come up with ways to overwork me into labor as he is quite determined to "help" get "I.E" (Elliot) "out".
All in all it was a very happy, giggly, playful, peaceful, cuddleful day.
Unfortunately, rather than really take the time to discipline him - though he knew it was serious business - I had to reward him with one of his favorite things: bath time.
This preceded him accidentally spilling an entire sippy cup of milk onto the middle of the living room floor while I was trying to start dinner. At this point in the evening I decided that Søren might be trying to come up with ways to overwork me into labor as he is quite determined to "help" get "I.E" (Elliot) "out".
All in all it was a very happy, giggly, playful, peaceful, cuddleful day.
More fun with a spoon **Updated**
My sister called me last night to share her joy in discovering that she, too, can wield the spoon. She was hanging out with a bunch of friends somewhere that happened to have some real silver, so she thought it would be a fun party experiment. It was correct on everyone there. She was additionally delighted because one of her friends (a guy) who wanted to try it couldn't get it to do anything and that made her feel special.It got me thinking again about the spoon and my curiosity about this foundational male/female magnetism thing. I've been wanting to try it on my cats (one male, one female), but they are hard to catch napping without disturbing them, and you can imagine that a cat isn't going to just sit there while something on a string dangles above their heads. This morning I managed to catch them both off guard just long enough to get a good reading. Lo and behold, it works for cats too!
This has rekindled my anticipation at my dear friends expectant child (now 4 days past due). I am increasingly convinced that little "Kate" is going to have to be named "Jackson" instead.
***Her water just broke!***
Sunday, May 20, 2007
Acts of Love
I have been constantly finding things around my kitchen in places different from where I have assigned them. Of course, there is the Søren factor, but that mainly applies to my pots, pans, Tupperware, and cookie cutters. Knowing this, they are only loosely assigned to one place, and more generally assigned to several places.
It is discovering my garlic masher in the silverware drawer, or my custard cups with my bowls that is making me smile. They are not misplaced because I misplaced my mind and surprised myself later. No, they are misplaced because other people have been here and served me in little ways like doing my dishes, and trying to put them away as best as made sense to them. Rather than be irritated at searching for a potato peeler, I have found myself enjoying the process of climbing into several other people's brains to discover my misplaced items knowing that I was being loved while they tried to climb into my brain and figure out where I keep my measuring spoons.
It is discovering my garlic masher in the silverware drawer, or my custard cups with my bowls that is making me smile. They are not misplaced because I misplaced my mind and surprised myself later. No, they are misplaced because other people have been here and served me in little ways like doing my dishes, and trying to put them away as best as made sense to them. Rather than be irritated at searching for a potato peeler, I have found myself enjoying the process of climbing into several other people's brains to discover my misplaced items knowing that I was being loved while they tried to climb into my brain and figure out where I keep my measuring spoons.
Saturday, May 19, 2007
Hours of Fun
I may have found a solution to managing a 21 month old while adjusting to a newborn. Hand-me-downs don't get much better than this!
Tuesday, May 15, 2007
Room for Growth
It seems we are leaving room for many things lately.
Søren's room is set up, but looks a little strange because there is a large space open where Elliott's crib will be once we get it on Memorial Day weekend.
Our living room is one big dance space while we look forward to saving up enough money to get ourselves a couch and coffee table.
I am trying to remember to focus on good posture so as to give this little one ample room for his last couple weeks of growing (though we are full term, and our new insurance - which actually covers labor and delivery - started today, so baby, you can come anytime you want to!).
In the midst of all of this came a potentially destructive (in terms of my relationship with my parents) paradigm shift in the way my husband saw his employer (my step-father) and his job and our future. Suffice it to say that over the weekend Andrew would have sworn that it was a irreversible change with permanent effects. I, as a realist, was emotionally prepared that my husband may be right, and that we might have some very unexpected changes to add to our expecting ones. At the same time, as a woman too familiar with the life of Paul, and of Peter, and of myself, and of my friends, and as a woman perhaps graced with a touch more compassion than my spouse, I insisted that we approach the situation allowing for the possibility of another paradigm shift.
After a two hour conversation between Andrew, my parents, and me, with tears on the Scrivner side, we came to a peaceful conclusion. One that involved many of the unexpected changes, but that felt good in light of the destruction that could have been done.
Then, as time has a way of softening the corners of dialog and allowing the speakers intent and heart to surface like cream, my step-dad phoned this morning to tell me of his new plans and perspective that had come over him since our talk, and to thank us for helping open his eyes to our perspective of how this whole job recruitment has gone. He went from concluding that there was no way he could work with Andrew and telling us to plan our exit (funny how man sometimes says things he doesn't mean because of pride) to insisting there was no way he wanted to lose Andrew and that he wanted to right what had gone wrong.
Similarly, Andrew went from being stubbornly (so he thought) convinced he couldn't trust my step-dad and didn't want a relationship, to being amazed at what a break through happened for their communication and trust resulting in the first step towards a more meaningful relationship (the one having always needed a father, and the other having always wanted a son). All of this in a mere 4 days (though the last 2 years of context played a huge part).
It made me ponder anew how it is that sometimes our words do not reflect our hearts, even when we think we are convinced of our words. It made me think again of the proverb (21:1) that the Kings heart is like channels of water in the hand of the Lord; He turns it where He wishes. If this is true for the king, how much more for the CEO, or for the salesman, or for the wife of a salesman.
I was comforted knowing that even when the storm is in full swing, and there is water coming in the boat, my faith can be strong in trusting that I will only drown if it is the will of my God. How can I know that the storm will not quickly blow away? How can I know whether there is not a large fish waiting beneath who will preserve me for days and spit me out on dry land? How can I know whether or not a larger vessel is not on it's way?
I will probably still pick up a bucket and try to keep the water out. Yet, I will strive not to do so in a panic, but rather with the peace that comes from knowing I can only be expected to use the resources God has given me, leaving the rest up to Him.
Søren's room is set up, but looks a little strange because there is a large space open where Elliott's crib will be once we get it on Memorial Day weekend.
Our living room is one big dance space while we look forward to saving up enough money to get ourselves a couch and coffee table.
I am trying to remember to focus on good posture so as to give this little one ample room for his last couple weeks of growing (though we are full term, and our new insurance - which actually covers labor and delivery - started today, so baby, you can come anytime you want to!).
In the midst of all of this came a potentially destructive (in terms of my relationship with my parents) paradigm shift in the way my husband saw his employer (my step-father) and his job and our future. Suffice it to say that over the weekend Andrew would have sworn that it was a irreversible change with permanent effects. I, as a realist, was emotionally prepared that my husband may be right, and that we might have some very unexpected changes to add to our expecting ones. At the same time, as a woman too familiar with the life of Paul, and of Peter, and of myself, and of my friends, and as a woman perhaps graced with a touch more compassion than my spouse, I insisted that we approach the situation allowing for the possibility of another paradigm shift.
After a two hour conversation between Andrew, my parents, and me, with tears on the Scrivner side, we came to a peaceful conclusion. One that involved many of the unexpected changes, but that felt good in light of the destruction that could have been done.
Then, as time has a way of softening the corners of dialog and allowing the speakers intent and heart to surface like cream, my step-dad phoned this morning to tell me of his new plans and perspective that had come over him since our talk, and to thank us for helping open his eyes to our perspective of how this whole job recruitment has gone. He went from concluding that there was no way he could work with Andrew and telling us to plan our exit (funny how man sometimes says things he doesn't mean because of pride) to insisting there was no way he wanted to lose Andrew and that he wanted to right what had gone wrong.
Similarly, Andrew went from being stubbornly (so he thought) convinced he couldn't trust my step-dad and didn't want a relationship, to being amazed at what a break through happened for their communication and trust resulting in the first step towards a more meaningful relationship (the one having always needed a father, and the other having always wanted a son). All of this in a mere 4 days (though the last 2 years of context played a huge part).
It made me ponder anew how it is that sometimes our words do not reflect our hearts, even when we think we are convinced of our words. It made me think again of the proverb (21:1) that the Kings heart is like channels of water in the hand of the Lord; He turns it where He wishes. If this is true for the king, how much more for the CEO, or for the salesman, or for the wife of a salesman.
I was comforted knowing that even when the storm is in full swing, and there is water coming in the boat, my faith can be strong in trusting that I will only drown if it is the will of my God. How can I know that the storm will not quickly blow away? How can I know whether there is not a large fish waiting beneath who will preserve me for days and spit me out on dry land? How can I know whether or not a larger vessel is not on it's way?
I will probably still pick up a bucket and try to keep the water out. Yet, I will strive not to do so in a panic, but rather with the peace that comes from knowing I can only be expected to use the resources God has given me, leaving the rest up to Him.
Sunday, May 13, 2007
Oops
So...after spending $25 on Søren's first hair cut, I thought I should really start trying to figure out how to cut boys hair. I decided to do that today. Problem...I had NO idea what I was doing, and I started with far too short a setting on the clippers, and started with the top of his head. The result...my own little skin head.
The upside is that he, his father, and his new baby brother will all have the same hair style when Elliot is born, namely, none! Now if someone else had asked me for advice on cutting their boys hair, I probably would have said, start long and start in the back. For some reason my own wisdom was lost on me.
Søren doesn't seem tramatized at all, and seems to still recognize himself in the mirror. I also managed not to injure him. So, all in all, I think it could have been worse.
The upside is that he, his father, and his new baby brother will all have the same hair style when Elliot is born, namely, none! Now if someone else had asked me for advice on cutting their boys hair, I probably would have said, start long and start in the back. For some reason my own wisdom was lost on me.
Søren doesn't seem tramatized at all, and seems to still recognize himself in the mirror. I also managed not to injure him. So, all in all, I think it could have been worse.
Saturday, May 12, 2007
Friday, May 11, 2007
10 things for interest
I have been tagged by Deanna to play a game of listing 10 interesting things about myself. Here is an attempt for those of you who are interested:
1. Setting: Evergreen Jr. High 1994 (me 14, Sean, 16)
Sean: You know, you kinda look like my little brother.
Me: You know, that's not really a compliment.
Sean: No, I really mean it.
Me: No, I really don't think you understand that's not what a girl wants to hear from her boyfriend.
Sean: No, I mean it, look here's a picture.
Etc. etc. etc.
Fast forward to later that evening when we are chatting on the phone as Jr highers do each evening.
Me: ...so yeah, I was born in Colorado and I have three "dad's" but I don't know much about the biological dad, he's about as significant as a sperm donor.
Sean: What was his name?
Me: Gary D****** (name withheld)
Sean: You're kidding me.
Me: What do you mean?
Sean: That's my little brother's dad. I used to know him when I was a kid, he took me to a fair.
Me: You're not being serious.
Etc. etc. etc.
We got our mothers involved to confirm that yes, this really was the same guy who knew how to sew his wild oats while never even being wanted for child support or mentioned on a birth certificate (apparently I have at least 3 other half sisters out there somewhere too), and that no, Sean and I were not related in anyway.
2. The left side of my body is all smaller than the right side. Not in a freakish way, but it's definitely different.
3. My maternal grandmother, Marianne, died 19 months before I was born. My mom decided that she wanted to have a child to help her deal with her grief (and why not utilize her college beau, the above mentioned Gary from #1), and thus I was born and named Marianne Elixir. Hence my screen name.
4. As a 3rd grader I decided to dig to China from our back yard. About 2 feet down I uncovered dinosaur bones (or so I was convinced) and brought them in to show my mom (who was not as ecstatic as I had hoped) and beg her if I could take them to the museum (she refused). I was crushed and indignant at my mothers betrayal to support the scientific cause as she forced me to throw them away. She wouldn't even let me call the museum to see if they were interested in sending someone out to look at my findings. That was the end of my short career as an archaeologist. I moved on to opening a mud kitchen in the back yard and feeding my sisters pie.
5. When I was 10 my mom asked me to come down and watch a movie with her after the news. I came down immediately and thought we were watching the news, though the movie had already begun. The movie was "Close Encounters of the 3rd Kind". Great movie, but not if you're 10 and you think it's the news. It is only in very recent years that I have let go of my fears that when I'm alone at night I might be snatched by aliens. Motherhood has somehow given me perspective. I used to be disturbed when I was awake in the middle of the night. I though that only strange people (and aliens) were up at those hours engaged in strange behavior (and abductions). Once I got pregnant and became a mother I realized that it's mainly pregnant and nursing mothers who are awake in those wee hours and now I feel a camaraderie with all the other sleep deprived, squished bladdered women out there rather than a hypersensitivity to 3rd kind encounters. I am not sure what 1st and 2nd kind are...but perhaps my universal motherhood connection is one of them.
6. While I was in Ghana (West Africa) I spent one evening dancing with the locals. I had previously been wondering why all the women always carried hankies. After 20 minutes of dancing on dry dirt some women pulled me out of the middle of the "dance floor" because they could see (though I was oblivious) that I would not be getting enough oxygen due to all the dust. All the other women used their hankies to block out the dirt. I had a lot of fun later than evening watching dirt just keep coming off of me in the shower, and blowing my nose for a good long time to try to recover clear snot.
7. I actually dated a customer from a coffee shop I worked at and ended up marrying him. Thanks Full City!
8. I was a contributing author (with many others) to the Starting Point Study Bible, though I don't necessarily recommend it.
9. On my second day at a new job I had to call in and tell them I would be in late because I was bailing a friend out of jail. Great first impression huh!
10. I have eaten peanut butter sandwiches since I was a kid, and still eat one nearly everyday (though I have traded jelly for Really Raw Honey) and have yet to be sick of them. This baffles my husband who refers to them as hockey puck sandwiches.
1. Setting: Evergreen Jr. High 1994 (me 14, Sean, 16)
Sean: You know, you kinda look like my little brother.
Me: You know, that's not really a compliment.
Sean: No, I really mean it.
Me: No, I really don't think you understand that's not what a girl wants to hear from her boyfriend.
Sean: No, I mean it, look here's a picture.
Etc. etc. etc.
Fast forward to later that evening when we are chatting on the phone as Jr highers do each evening.
Me: ...so yeah, I was born in Colorado and I have three "dad's" but I don't know much about the biological dad, he's about as significant as a sperm donor.
Sean: What was his name?
Me: Gary D****** (name withheld)
Sean: You're kidding me.
Me: What do you mean?
Sean: That's my little brother's dad. I used to know him when I was a kid, he took me to a fair.
Me: You're not being serious.
Etc. etc. etc.
We got our mothers involved to confirm that yes, this really was the same guy who knew how to sew his wild oats while never even being wanted for child support or mentioned on a birth certificate (apparently I have at least 3 other half sisters out there somewhere too), and that no, Sean and I were not related in anyway.
2. The left side of my body is all smaller than the right side. Not in a freakish way, but it's definitely different.
3. My maternal grandmother, Marianne, died 19 months before I was born. My mom decided that she wanted to have a child to help her deal with her grief (and why not utilize her college beau, the above mentioned Gary from #1), and thus I was born and named Marianne Elixir. Hence my screen name.
4. As a 3rd grader I decided to dig to China from our back yard. About 2 feet down I uncovered dinosaur bones (or so I was convinced) and brought them in to show my mom (who was not as ecstatic as I had hoped) and beg her if I could take them to the museum (she refused). I was crushed and indignant at my mothers betrayal to support the scientific cause as she forced me to throw them away. She wouldn't even let me call the museum to see if they were interested in sending someone out to look at my findings. That was the end of my short career as an archaeologist. I moved on to opening a mud kitchen in the back yard and feeding my sisters pie.
5. When I was 10 my mom asked me to come down and watch a movie with her after the news. I came down immediately and thought we were watching the news, though the movie had already begun. The movie was "Close Encounters of the 3rd Kind". Great movie, but not if you're 10 and you think it's the news. It is only in very recent years that I have let go of my fears that when I'm alone at night I might be snatched by aliens. Motherhood has somehow given me perspective. I used to be disturbed when I was awake in the middle of the night. I though that only strange people (and aliens) were up at those hours engaged in strange behavior (and abductions). Once I got pregnant and became a mother I realized that it's mainly pregnant and nursing mothers who are awake in those wee hours and now I feel a camaraderie with all the other sleep deprived, squished bladdered women out there rather than a hypersensitivity to 3rd kind encounters. I am not sure what 1st and 2nd kind are...but perhaps my universal motherhood connection is one of them.
6. While I was in Ghana (West Africa) I spent one evening dancing with the locals. I had previously been wondering why all the women always carried hankies. After 20 minutes of dancing on dry dirt some women pulled me out of the middle of the "dance floor" because they could see (though I was oblivious) that I would not be getting enough oxygen due to all the dust. All the other women used their hankies to block out the dirt. I had a lot of fun later than evening watching dirt just keep coming off of me in the shower, and blowing my nose for a good long time to try to recover clear snot.
7. I actually dated a customer from a coffee shop I worked at and ended up marrying him. Thanks Full City!
8. I was a contributing author (with many others) to the Starting Point Study Bible, though I don't necessarily recommend it.
9. On my second day at a new job I had to call in and tell them I would be in late because I was bailing a friend out of jail. Great first impression huh!
10. I have eaten peanut butter sandwiches since I was a kid, and still eat one nearly everyday (though I have traded jelly for Really Raw Honey) and have yet to be sick of them. This baffles my husband who refers to them as hockey puck sandwiches.
Wednesday, May 9, 2007
Another one for the spoon
Søren and I meandered our way across one of Seattle's lovely floating bridges this morning with Søren chanting "check EI" (translation: Check Elliott) after excitedly pointing out to me that we could see the water and some boats. Somehow, E-I is now what Søren calls his expected brother. He also intermittently would say "heart beat".
He does so well at our midwife's office and she lets him help pull out the tools to measure my belly (35cm today), take my blood pressure (105 over 62), and listen to Elliott's heart beat (which was on the low side of normal today...perhaps due to all the craziness of moving and a lack of time for me to focus on good breathing...I should probably be doing my yoga right now and not blogging...but the DVD player is not yet set up).
There were two births this week for our midwife, and one of them was a baby I had used the spoon on. Sure enough, she had a healthy little boy just two days ago - and it was a VBAC, which was good encouragement for us!
This puts my spoon predictions of pregnant bellies at 3 for 3 (counting Søren) with two more to be delivered in the next couple weeks. The next baby (assuming I don't go early) is the controversial one (whose ultrasound disagrees with the spoon). We shall see, and I will be sure to record it for the love of wisdom and good science.
He does so well at our midwife's office and she lets him help pull out the tools to measure my belly (35cm today), take my blood pressure (105 over 62), and listen to Elliott's heart beat (which was on the low side of normal today...perhaps due to all the craziness of moving and a lack of time for me to focus on good breathing...I should probably be doing my yoga right now and not blogging...but the DVD player is not yet set up).
There were two births this week for our midwife, and one of them was a baby I had used the spoon on. Sure enough, she had a healthy little boy just two days ago - and it was a VBAC, which was good encouragement for us!
This puts my spoon predictions of pregnant bellies at 3 for 3 (counting Søren) with two more to be delivered in the next couple weeks. The next baby (assuming I don't go early) is the controversial one (whose ultrasound disagrees with the spoon). We shall see, and I will be sure to record it for the love of wisdom and good science.
Friday, May 4, 2007
Welcome Abigail!
My dear friend Jessica delivered a healthy 5 pound 15 ounce baby girl (as the spoon predicted) named Abigail Renee yesterday at 3:40 in the afternoon. Both are doing fine and enjoying figuring out how to communicate with each other.
I will post a picture as soon as I get one!
It's really amazing to talk to someone you've known for years and then to suddenly hear the squeaks and whimperings of their child. When did they get a child! Sure I knew they were pregnant - and as a mother myself, you'd think I know that pregnancy typically culminates in a child - but somehow when it happens it still seems quite extraordinary.
I hope that I'll get to meet this new little miss sometime soon.
I will post a picture as soon as I get one!
It's really amazing to talk to someone you've known for years and then to suddenly hear the squeaks and whimperings of their child. When did they get a child! Sure I knew they were pregnant - and as a mother myself, you'd think I know that pregnancy typically culminates in a child - but somehow when it happens it still seems quite extraordinary.
I hope that I'll get to meet this new little miss sometime soon.
Thursday, May 3, 2007
Still Unpacking...
"It's 8:30am and I am ready to disown my son," I announced to my husband as he left, late, for work (though the commute is now 2 minutes).
The day was much the same. Of course, my love for Søren, and his unabashed love for me, kept us together amidst frustrations. He has a picture of me leaning in to kiss him that he brings to me when he wants a kiss or snuggle. Hard to disown that.
I also know that his irritibility is due to the crazy schedule of moving into our new apartment with a lot of compromised naps. My irritibility is also due to missing sleep and working harder than my 35-week-pregnant body is willing to allow.
I decided that my children may be the death of me, but something has to be. As I tucked Søren into bed after a 3rd rendition of "The Fox Ran Out on a Chilly Night," I decided that death by children will be sweet.
The day was much the same. Of course, my love for Søren, and his unabashed love for me, kept us together amidst frustrations. He has a picture of me leaning in to kiss him that he brings to me when he wants a kiss or snuggle. Hard to disown that.
I also know that his irritibility is due to the crazy schedule of moving into our new apartment with a lot of compromised naps. My irritibility is also due to missing sleep and working harder than my 35-week-pregnant body is willing to allow.
I decided that my children may be the death of me, but something has to be. As I tucked Søren into bed after a 3rd rendition of "The Fox Ran Out on a Chilly Night," I decided that death by children will be sweet.
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