iExam

 

I am almost done being pregnant. Forever. (I think.) It's a good thing since I have 6 tums left in my Costco-sized jar. Close call! I cried as we drove to the hospital to have Archer because I was going to miss his kicks and wiggles inside of me. I’m not crying with this one. Get him out. It has been nice having Wolverine titanium nails for several months. They make up for the swollen feet, nausea, tossing and turning, facial melasma, heartburn, and emotional Russian roulette. #differentpregnancy #forty #notthesameastwenty

Pops taught me how to properly cut and blend Archer’s hair. Jen T gave me the tip to give him a dum dum while I cut. One precision toddler haircut + one hairy sucker = Archer no longer looks like a street urchin. And I got to cross something off of my list! Where would I be without visiting teachers and sugar?

The Olympics are coming up. Between that, American Ninja Warrior, and Beat Bobby Flay I will have plenty to watch during the first month of recovery. And maybe I won’t cry as hard in the Proctor & Gamble mom commercials because my hormones will have regulated a bit.

RE sends me Pinterest pins and funny texts. It’s fun to see her evolving. On Saturday I told her it was our last Saturday before baby would arrive, ergo I would take her anywhere she wanted including Nordstrom Bistro for berry shortcake and garlic flatbread. She raised her eyebrow. You’ll do anything I want? Yes. I want to deep clean the fridge and freezer. But we can get massages and go to Paper Source, too. No, the fridge. And so we did. That girl is one in a million.

Archer can eat independently with lidless cups and big boy silverware. Watching him eat oatmeal in the morning sun often melts my heart. He’s so innocent and I’m amazed at how motor skills are formed. I know I sound ridiculous.

The plum tree we planted when RE was born is now 15 years old and shades the entirety of the front yard. I have spent the summer in that shade watching Archer play with bowls of water, his Cozy Coupe, and rocks. There has been a breeze most of the time. It has felt good, like watching an old home movie in slow motion except I’m watching it live.

A plastic frog is floating in my soapy hand wash water and a stegosaurus is napping in Lucy’s bowl. I step on Hot Wheels multiple times a day. I pick them up while Greg is up at the church parking lot teaching RE to drive. Our age span comforts me; it will keep us young.

Our home is finally being built. Now that the ball is rolling I don’t think about it. It is progressing without me; I can think of other things. The cranial open space feels good.

I’ve been too big for a table massage for months but Ruth has continued to do foot rubs and scalp massages on me “beached whale style” (me sideways on every pillow she owns). She is such a dear.

I found a flame orange maternity dress at Target at Week 34. My favorite color on earth has helped me feel as beautiful as a Chinese poppy this last hard month.

Archer wipes off kisses and likes his back scratched underneath his shirt. This is where my titanium nails come in handy. We do a giggle-guaranteed rendition of Eensy Weensy Spider on his bony spine.

Both my parents and Greg’s parents are alive and well. I am thankful to have them. It would be hard to have a baby and not have one of your parents around to witness it. I like linking our links.

We got a mailer from Highlights magazine with a sample page of hidden pictures. I jokingly told RE she couldn’t play with friends until she found the hidden pictures. An hour later we were both searching for the elusive pencil and fishing hook. When Greg got home from work we summoned his help and fresh eyeballs. He said he’d help after dinner. At 11:40 pm we found them. I think it took so long because we were slap happy. Nothing else was accomplished that day yet it remains one of my favorite summer memories.

I love cows. I thank them for milk. I am still a pregnant milk addict. I can’t drink enough of it. It’s a tough call to declare which I love more: milk or air conditioners.

Speaking of air conditioning: Greg points the left vent and both center vents of his truck on his face. He closes the far right vent and cranks the temperature down. This makes it so when I get in the driver’s seat (which I really try to avoid) I look like a vixen from an 80’s music video.

RE sleeps horizontally on her spacious queen mattress where the pillows should go. She wedges herself next to the wall on top of her bedspread and covers herself with a sofa throw because she doesn’t want to make her bed in the morning. Archer sleeps parallel to the short side of his crib with his legs poking through the rails. My kids are great sleepers but odd ducks.

I waited in line twenty minutes at the PO just to buy pretty floral stamps. I am so sick of the self-serve kiosk Forever stamps with Linus and the snowy mailbox. Federal Government: it’s almost August. No more Linus! I killed precious time for vibrant, illustrated stamps no one will think twice about but they matter to me. I will mail baby thank you cards with wintry Forever stamps over my dead body.

And...drumroll...I can eat feta again in two days! Glory, glory, hallelujah!

"Focus on the Good" wooden postcard purchased at a Solvang, California bakery over spring break. I need reminders. 

"WHAT WE SEE DEPENDS MAINLY ON WHAT WE LOOK FOR."  –John Lubbock