Three Men and a Little Lady

Everyday Should Be Grandparents Day

You can't tell from this picture, but she's wearing a dress. I can say with certainty that yesterday was the first time I've dressed any of my children in a dress.

We're adjusting to life with three children, although it's been tricky because our sweet little girl absolutely will not sleep in her bed. The longest stretch we've gotten to is 15 minutes. She has quite a bit of stomach distress and I think it helps to have the warmth and pressure of someone holding her to relieve the pain. I've begun experimenting with my diet to see if something I'm eating is bothering her. Dairy is the first item I've cut-out. We'll see if that helps. In the meantime, Bryan and I have been taking turns holding her overnight so the other can sleep. This means that both of us are somewhat zombie-like in the morning.

Enter the miracle worker, aka Bryan's mom.

She's been here for the last week and we are truly thankful for her. She's been taking the boys on walks, doing projects with them, making up stories for them. That is some serious grandma awesomeness. It means that the boys don't have to deal with crazy-tired parents every morning. And that those same crazy-tired parents get more sleep than they would otherwise.

Thank goodness for grandmas.

World Premiere

I'd like you to meet someone. This is Phoebe.


She made her debut earlier this week. I'm glad she's here.

Terms of Endearment

We don't do nicknames at our house. At least, not of the shortened name variety. Peter is not Pete or Petey. Bryan is not Bry. I didn't realize how much Cooper had embraced this until a few days ago.

Peter: (Trying to get Cooper's attention) Cooper. Cooper. Cooper! COOPER! COOP!

Cooper: (Finally acknowledging Peter) I'm not Coop. I'm Cooper.

Excellent.

Snug as a Bug in a Rug

How you know you look too pregnant to be running errands:

Sample Server at Costco: When is your baby due?

Me: Well, she was due last Wednesday.

Sample Server at Costco: Oh. That explains why you've grown out of your clothes.

Um, thanks...

Water, Water Everywhere, and Not a Drop to Drink

We were at Ikea for four hours yesterday. I love the store, but that's a long time even for me. We got a couch bed (a glorified, albeit surprisingly comfortable futon) to put in the office for guests and Bryan's brother outfitted his college kitchen.

We also ate. Lucky for us, kids ate for free over the holiday weekend. This meant that the restaurant was a mad house, but the food was good and we still managed to find a place to sit.

In an attempt to stay clean, both boys ate pasta without sauce. We had a good meal and by the end only had a bit yogurt to wipe off of little boy mouths. Cooper has inherited my slow-eater-tiny-bite-taker disease (which I don't think is a disease at all) and was the last one to finish. Bryan was gathering up empty plates and forks to deposit in the dirty dish alcove. As I handed Bryan Cooper's not-empty cup we must have bumped into each other.

And the water in the cup was suddenly the water in my lap.

My first reaction was something akin to "Aghh!" It was cold and not a pleasant sensation. My second reaction, which came the moment I looked down at the water soaking into the legs of my jeans was, "Oh no, people are going to think my water broke."

Hopefully the water that spilled onto my shirt was a tip-off that it was just a spill and nothing else. And I know, who cares what total strangers think? Well, I didn't care that much, but it was still kind of embarrassing.

Baby Watch 2010

No baby yet, I should get that out of the way right off the bat. Yesterday at church a handful of people asked why I was there. And why I wasn't holding a baby in my arms. I said it was because she hadn't decided to come yet.

I'm afraid I may have misrepresented myself in my D-Day post. Yes, I am waiting for her to come on her own, but I would like it if she were here already. I'm wildly uncomfortable. Lying down is tricky because getting back up sends pain shooting up my back and down my legs. I might not look that big (I'm not sure why), but at my 40 week appointment I was measuring at 40 weeks exactly. Granted, I know people that measure ahead, so maybe that's why I seem small, I don't know. I can still walk, but not without loud huffing and puffing and some moderate waddling action. I can still follow the boys around, but I certainly can't chase them. I've tried to focus on the positive aspects of pregnancy, but that doesn't mean that it's been without discomfort.

So yes, I am done. But she's not. And I would rather do this on her schedule than on mine.

That said, if she's not here by Wednesday, my Doctor is insisting on inducing me.

And so we're saying lots of prayers that she's here by then.

Rock Band As Real Life

Espanol

Peter is very into learning other languages right now. He likes to tell us how to say things in Spanish, his current language of choice. We've been encouraging him by teaching how to say things in these other tongues. At his disposal we have Portuguese, French, ASL, and (limited) Spanish. We could also throw in Mandarin, Norwegian, German, and a lot more Spanish by calling a few family members.

We've begun his training by teaching him to count (and in the process discovered that he can't roll his R's). He's done a good job remembering what he's learned. For the most part.

On Sunday he decided to share his knowledge with Cooper.

Peter: Cooper, do you want to know how to count in Spanish?

Cooper: No.

Peter: (More insistent) Cooper, do you want to know how to count in Spanish?

Cooper: NO!

Peter: (Ignoring Cooper's lack of interest) Okay. Uno, dos, tres, cuatro, cinco, seis, siete, ocho, nueve.

Me: That was good Peter. Do you remember how to say ten in Spanish?

Peter: (Pausing for a moment to think) Uh, Nathan?

No, I have no idea where Nathan came from.

D-Day

Here we are at 40 weeks. FYI, I'm totally fine with having made it to 40 weeks. Apparently I'm in the minority in that I don't want the baby out at the first safe opportunity, but that's okay. I've always been a little odd.