Convenience . . .

I have to admit, it does come in handy sometimes . . . and for this reason, I will miss my buddah.

In Three Words . . .

Adoring. This. Beauty.

One of my all time favorite bloggers/most talented people ever, Cathe Holden, issued a challenge to share something you've done today in only three words. I'm all for it, and upping the challenge to say it needs to include a picture and I want to see it done by the following people: Kasey, Audrey, Shar, Christy, Emily, Christin and Tobi. Now get to work . . . you've got a pregnant lady waiting.

{for those who guessed in yesterday's riddle, three of you were spot on - like Goldilocks in the Three Bears, I've spent the past TWO MONTHS rotating between the four locations looking for a comfortable night's rest. Some nights I've even tried three different locales, too no avail. Last night, it was RedDog's bed and eventually the couch. Fun, no?}

Speechless . . .

There are no words for this.

Except, "Where do your ankles end and your calves start?" or my personal preference: "Wow, your pedicure looks fantastic!"

Sour Milk . . .

So Funny . . . And So True!

Not to brag or anything, but one of my greatest strengths is surrounding myself with amazing and talented friends. This handmade gift just arrived from the ever inspiring Jennie Doezie and I can't wait to put it on my new boy and on myself. You'd better believe I'm wearing this IN THE HOSPITAL just in case people forget how hot I am! Thanks for putting a HUGE smile on my face Doezie. You know how to make a girl laugh!

{and yes, the girl screen prints in SILVER ink . . . how cool is that?}

Visit Me Tomorrow for the Dining Room Upheaval Reveal

Hello, My Name Is . . .

{This looks like me . . . about three and a half months ago!

Photo courtesy of Google Images}

Were you like me many years ago, scribbling out a little list of baby names in a journal or on a scrap of paper somewhere, determined that your future husband would sign off on it immediately and that would be that? Mine were silly names - names I don't even like now. Obviously they are not the names I've given my children. The Hubby came to our marriage with his own idea for baby names, but after discussing it with his wise spouse, he realized it was a dumb idea and we moved on.

There are so many different approaches to naming babies - each approach as unique as the tiny individuals who will bear these names for their entire lives. Many people I know have chosen one of the following options when selecting a baby's name {see if you can find your approach in here somewhere}:

consulting baby name books

checking out the multiple baby name sites on the internet

choosing names based on their meaning

giving a scriptural name

giving an historical name

giving a nature inspired name

making up a name that no one has ever heard of before

taking a common name and tweaking the spelling to make it different

combining two names to form a new name {blasted Renesmee!}

choosing names that all begin with the same letter

picking a name for no other reason than liking it.

I'm sure I've missed a few approaches. Our approach {not listed above} stems from wanting to instill in our children a desire to follow in the footsteps of noble ancestors who have come before them in their genealogical line. We have chosen to give each of our children a family name in the hopes that they will not only be inspired by their ancestors, but also do their best to live up to and honor the name they've been given.

Big C is named Robert Christopher after my father-in-law Bob and my older brother Chris, two men we admire and love.

Hannie B is named Hannah Kate after Hannah Shipley, a several times great grandma of mine and Mormon pioneer who died crossing the plains with her husband in search of a place where she could worship God without persecution.

RedDog is named Soren Wilson after a Scandinavian great, great grandfather and the Hubby's cherished grandfather, both stalwart righteous men.

As for Baby X, well, his name is chosen and waiting for him to arrive. It spoke to both the husband and I as we searched our family records and studied the stories of lives lived. It carries the history of our pioneer ancestors in its thirteen letters, as well as pays tribute to one of my own family members.

I'm excited to "reveal" it in the coming weeks. We have all become very fond of uttering it while rubbing my belly and if the leaping in my womb is any indication, he is ready to come and bear it proudly.

I am no expert on naming babies. I have only one very opinionated piece of advice to give to others on this topic, and that is to remember that this is the name your child will bear his or her whole life long, so give it some thought!

How do you choose your baby's names?

Letting Go . . .

I'm a pretty sentimental person. I think that is one reason I decided to start a blog in the first place. I'd always been a devoted journal keeper, and blogging seemed the next natural step in preserving memories of my life and family. I put photos into albums {no scrapbooking here - too expensive} and I keep a box of mementos for each of my kids, but am pretty selective about what goes in the box -a cherished blankie, an award given at school, a note or letter that may some day bring comfort or a wave of needed love. So I guess I would call myself somewhat sentimental.

But when we found out that this Grand Finale Baby was a boy, I immediately detached myself from a huge chunk of my sentimentality and brutally attacked the six - yes, SIX - bins of girl's clothing I'd been carefully saving up for nine years in hopes of another pink and frilly child.

For nine straight years, at the end of each season, when Hannie B outgrew her clothes I'd go through the lot of it picking and choosing the cutest items left in the best shape, carefully folding and placing in bins. From tiny newborn dresses and bloomers to corduroy pants and t-shirts she just wore a year ago, I had it all, catalogued by size and season.

And now it is almost entirely gone.

In the past two months it's been given to friends and families in my church congregation who will get great use out of all those darling duds. I've seen a few little girls at church already, wearing sweet Sunday dresses from our past and though I feel a pang in my heart, I also feel a huge smile on my face. Hannie usually notices too and whispers in my ear, "Mom, remember when I used to wear that same dress?"

I've kept only a few very special pieces - like this hand embroidered/smocked top that her daddy brought her from one of his trips to India. I couldn't bear to part with it. Look at that beautiful detailing! Maybe someday Hannie will have a daughter who will wear it. Maybe it will just sit in a box for years.

Are you wondering why I'm writing about this?

Maybe it's my way of acknowledging that I've come to accept the finality of this last baby - that my baby days will end with Numero Four and I'm feeling a little sentimental about it, hoping I can hold on to each moment, putting them carefully into my mental memory box.

Maybe it's my way of saying that passing on all of those girly memories was a tough thing to do because deep down, I'd always hoped there'd be a sister for my little girl.

Maybe it's just me saying, "Hey there! Nesting {and purging} in full progress over here! Look at me making space on my shelves in the storage room."

I don't know.

This much I do know . . . Letting go is hard. And having a baby means letting go of a lot of things - control {major issues with that here}, life as we know it in all of its comforting structured ways, sanity {but only for a while} amongst other things. And while I'm totally ready, I'm also totally terrified. It's for sure that we'll be doing a lot of leaning on the Lord around here in the next few months.

I guess when it comes down to it, letting go means letting it go to Him.

Stone Aged . . .

Fred Flintstone called . . .

He wants his feet back.

{And unfortunately, this picture was taken on a good day at about 1:00 . . . by 8:30 at night they are purple and could seriously power a car made of rock. It is now time for this baby to start thinking seriously about coming.}

Extreme Nesting . . .

Want to know how to make a pregnant lady go into labor? Try taking a dining room that used to look like this:

And turn it into a dining room that currently looks like this:

Then add in three kids twenty-four seven {because it's the first day of summer vacation}, the scent of ammonia on dish rags, repetitive bending over and getting up and down, multiple brushes, pliers and screwdrivers and there might just be a baby sooner than expected.

What jacked up kind of Universe are we presently living in? Stay tuned for the details about our whirlwind weekend of madness!

An Elephant Never Forgets . . .

When I was young girl living in Germany, we used to watch a short show around news time every night called "Kids Say The Darndest Things". It was hosted by a man named Art Linkletter and involved him asking a panel of small children simple questions that would produce hilarious and sometimes embarrassing answers. It always made me laugh real hard.

I had my Linkletter moment the other day when RedDog appeared in the bathroom doorway carrying this little marble elephant statue his dad brought him from a trip to India.

As I applied my make up, I offhandedly asked him what he was doing.

He replied, "Just looking at this elephant and thinking about how you are just like this elephant right now."

Attention now fixed and ego a little bit bruised, I asked the next question {you know where I'm going, don't you?}: "Bud, do you think mommy's as big as an elephant?"

He immediately began to giggle, which confirmed my suspicion. But then he surprised me and said, "No mommy, you're like this elephant because you both have a baby in your tummy, see?"

I've gotta hand it to him. I wasn't expecting that one.

All elephant comparisons were completely forgotten {at least for now} as he planted a kiss on my belly and ran off to play.

Thank You Ross!

Busy, busy day today with doctor's appointments, baseball games and lots of last minute "to-dos" before this baby comes.

Thought I'd take a second to share a picture from last week {Tracie, this is for YOU} and let you know that right now I love the discount store Ross. I found three non-maternity skirts there for $9.99 each that I can comfortably slide under my big belly. They are perfect for the hot summer heat, a little cuter than shorts and will definitely be a staple in my post baby wardrobe for the summer.

With only four weeks to go {I'll be induced at 39 weeks if the baby doesn't make an appearance on his own by then}, last minute preparations are in full swing around here. In the near future expect a few posts on such fascinating topics as how we pick our kid's names, what the nursery is going to look like, how my youngest compared me to a pachyderm yesterday and why the heck I can't get three decent hours of sleep a night. Fun, fun stuff!

Hope you have a really great day!

Planning Ahead . . .

{baby announcement via Paper Culture}

It was love at first sight. Sure, the baby in the picture is sorta cute, but that's not what I'm talking about. I might have to sell one of my vital organs to raise some funds because I absolutely adore these baby announcements and think they could be a key to ensuring my long term happiness.

Besides, can you think of a better way to welcome a Dragonfly baby into the world? Me either. Do me a favor and leave a comment to the Hubby about how important it is for me to have these announcements. Thanks!

{Even though I'm being dramatic for blogging humor's sake, I really do think I must have them.}

Self Portrait . . .

Just in case you're wondering . . . I've officially moved from swallowing a volleyball to swallowing a basketball.

Now I challenge any of you reading this to take a self portrait and put it up on your blog. I want to see my friends and they say you should always give a pregnant lady what she wants.

What are you waiting for?

Pass It On . . .

I love the idea of passing down something that all my children will have shared in their infancy. The very thought satisfies my need for nostalgia, tradition and history.

Twelve years ago one of the Queen's dearest friends sewed a blessing gown for us from the same fabric she used to make my beloved wedding dress. My original plan was to have all my children blessed in that dress. Unfortunately, the Hubby put the kibosh on that idea after enduring only one blessing day with Big C in a dress - never mind that many an historical male figure have been blessed or christened in intricate, beautiful dresses. Thus, Hannie B wore the dress and RedDog did not. It has been made very clear to me that the son in my womb will also NOT wear the dress.

My next plan was to have all our children sleep in the same crib - the very crib the Hubby and I in our naive soon-to-be first time parent state agonized over purchasing and built together while managing to only have one fight. Alas, a month ago I assembled the crib by myself and promptly broke it upon finishing the job. Apparently five years in storage made some of the parts brittle and useless . . . my child bearing body can relate!

I'd love to pass on a cherished blanket, but as noted in a previous post, blankets become individual safe havens to my kids and cannot be shared.

So, now I am down to this - a classic sterling silver baby rattle that was a gift from dear family friends Mike and Eleanor upon the birth of Big C. This rattle has been dented by tiny but strong jaws and pock marked by new baby teeth. It has had the drool of all three of my children covering it. It is as fascinating to the kids today as it was when they were babies. They love to use it as a dumbbell when playing make believe with their multitudes of muscular stuffed animals.

Yesterday I commandeered the rattled, gave it a good shine and put it away for baby #4. Maybe when he's done with it I will have it framed. Or maybe it will go to a grandchild someday. All I know is that I'm deliriously happy that one more set of dimpled hands and rubber band wrists will grasp this metal rattle and joy in the noise it makes.

Wearing Exhaustion On My Sleeve . . .

Image courtesy of Jawra.com

Warning: Emotional pregnant lady rant in progress.
I ran into a next door neighbor at Target yesterday while we both perused the cold cereal aisle. The conversation went something like this:
She: Hey there!
Me: Well hello there neighbor. How funny that we're both shopping for cereal at the exact same time! (a glance into her cart, a glance into mine - no surprise - I'm the meaner mom.) How are you doing?
She: I'm good. Wow, you look really tired today. How are YOU doing?
Me: Mumble, mumble, I'm not wearing make up today, blah, blah, blah I didn't do my hair because it's raining, yadda, yadda and I'll see you later.

After thinking about this conversation during the rest of my grocery trip (and after the kids got home from school, then again as I was falling asleep) I have to ask for some reader input on this one:
Why on earth do we tell people they look tired?
Even if they do! I am guilty of this one. I have said it to family, friends, mere acquaintances who are parents of my kids classmates. And I am vowing here and now to never say it to someone again!
While I'm sure it was said to me in sincerity with relation to my crazy decision to have a fourth child and my growing midsection, the only thing it actually did was make me feel miserable about myself, my appearance and the fact that YES, indeed, I AM TIRED but I don't want to wear it on my sleeve or have it written in dark circles under my eyes!!!!
I imagine the conversation differently, with the neighbor leaving out the tired part and just asking me how I was doing. I could divulge as much or as little as I'd like concerning my lack of sleep. I could tell her that I feel great - which I do most of the time- and that things are going really well.
Or I could tell her that I am a bit tired and she could just think in her mind "Yep, you look it" but not tell me. Then she could go home and bake me brownies to help with my exhaustion and leave them on my doorstep with a note that says, "These will help you sleep."
I guess the point of my rant is this: I need to make a more conscious effort to say things to other people that are meant to build and lift them up. And when I have something to say that doesn't do that, I need to keep my thoughts to myself. I need to pay careful attention to those around me and try to meet there needs without making them feel bad about their situation. And finally, I need to wear make up and do my hair every day until this baby is born. Stink.

Little Stranger . . .

Yesterday as I looked at this newest 'photograph' of our baby's sweet little face, I heard my heart asking the question, "Who are you, little stranger?"

And then I answered myself.

"I know you, sort of. You talk to me through Morse code - a series of kicks here, a complete lunge there, and sometimes I think we'll name you Thumper because your foot can move at a ridiculously rapid pace like that little bunny from the movie Bambi. Thank you for being wiggly! Every time you move it is comfort to my soul - a reassurance that you are still growing, thriving and working on joining our family.

But aside from what I can physically feel, I'm still wondering - who are you? What will your disposition be like? Will you be a smiley, bald fellow like Big C was? Or will you be a challenge and mystery like Hannie B? Maybe, just maybe, you'll be as easy going and serene as the RedDog since he's already decided you will be some kind of Dog like him.

What new dimension will you add to our family? What piece of our puzzle will you magically produce, just by being born? Will we be what we need to be to make your life joyous and wonderful? Will you understand how much we love you - how long we've waited for you to come?

Oh little stranger, I am so excited for you to come! And I can't wait to hold you in my arms to know you and love you and call you stranger no more. "

Things That Go Pop . . .

Balloons, particularly after my kids fight over them for a few days.

Soda, but only in glass bottles.

Corn, with butter and salt please.

Candy rocks, joy and fascination of my childhood.

And this, thank you very much.

Taking Advantage of Fashion . . .

Look at me - I'm serious and all artsy in this photo. Ha!! Really though, I'm actually sick of deleting pictures of myself grinning like an idiot straight into the camera. When you're taking a picture with the self timer, all by your lonesome, smiling like that always looks fake and super cheesy. Then again, look what you got instead.

Anyhoo . . . today I am happily posting about something new to me this baby-go-round: the joyous fact that there are A LOT of clothes out in the market right now that are NOT maternity wear but are ample enough in fabric, forgiving enough in cut, and frankly cost less than maternity clothes - because hey, the woman's having a baby, so let's charge her $20 more a shirt for the extra fabric it will take to cover that gut!

The shirt in yesterday's post is actually one I had in my regular old wardrobe and was bought at Target two years ago. It actually looks better on me pregnant because I have a chest to fill it - but that's another post entirely.

The shirt in today's post is from Kohl's "Elle" line and you can go buy it there right now (if you aren't embarrassed to because now you've seen a pregnant lady wearing it.) I'm sure it will be on sale, because everything at Kohl's is ALWAYS on sale. I really wanted it in this super cool black & white leopard print, but it had sold out.

Why does this shirt work for a prego mama? First, it is made of a good amount of really soft, lightweight jersey - totally comfy. Second, it's got this great band at the bottom, which is really chic right now and just happens to sit below "the belly". And last, if you click on the picture and look at the neckline, it has a really intricate woven detail. You may be wondering why this is helpful to a pregnant woman. It's called a diversion tactic people! Anything that gets people to look up and toward the face (aka away from "the belly") is a real, real good thing! I can already tell that this shirt is going to be a favorite post-baby because it will do a great job of hiding that ever troublesome midsection. Lovely.

So, I've been scouring my favorite cheap-o stores (Target, Kohls, Gap Outlet, H&M) for a non-maternity maternity wardrobe and I'll stick a picture up every now and again of a winner.

You all had great guesses for what today's post would be about. There were actually three possible posts in the picture. You'll see them all sooner or later!

Let The Questions Begin . . .

It has started.

Yesterday the RedDog asked me the first of what I'm sure is going to be a long list of questions before Bambino #4 joins us. He climbed up onto my ever shrinking lap and said, "Momma, what is our baby going to look like?"

I replied with, "Well, he'll be totally cute, fair skinned, have blue or green eyes, light hair, rosy cheeks and lots and lots of freckles!"

RedDog looked at me in wonder and finished off with one more question: "Wow, momma, how did you know that?"

Umm . . . You tell me.

Unveiling the Buddha . . .

A sincere thank you to so many of you who have commented on our journey to get this baby here. Writing on Friday was very emotional and reflective for me. I have felt so much love, support and encouragement from all of you in the kind words you have written. Thank you.

As a little treat, today we decided we wouldn't take a sitting down family picture (which so easily hides my expanding waistline). Instead, we've unveiled "the Buddha belly". For those who've asked, I am due July 9th. Hope you enjoy . . . it only gets bigger from here!