What's up Doc?

I recently went to my monthly cattle call weigh in. (Always a character building exercise). All the clanging and banging of the scale revealed that the month of September had not been kind. (My clothes strained seams could have told you that.) I proceeded to rationalize to the nurse. 'I have on heavy flip flops, suffer from dense bones and have the weight of the world on my shoulders.' She just rolled her eyes and herded me into my room.

Upon discussing this matter with the good ol' doctor, she gave me this diagnosis. First, I should stop spreading butter like frosting because my milkshake was going to bring all the boys to the yard. I remarked that such a weight gain was probably typical for a 3rd baby...WRONG! She shot me down. Come on Doc...curvy damsel in distress make something up. Tell me women with an abnormal amount of freckles gain more with the 3rd baby. ANYTHING! Then she had the nerve to tell me that if I wanted to get back on track, I should only gain 1 lb. next month. I teared up and blurted out "But it's Halloween!" To which she responded, "Eat celery". AHHHHHHHH!

The plot thickens (just like everything else around here). During my next grocery store trip, I made an effort to spend some extra time in the produce section. Celery in cart, we headed towards the checkout. G-bean asked if we could pick out some Halloween candy. Once again being upfront, I told her that if we bought it too soon Mommy would blackout and eat it all. Unphased & answer accepted, she moved on. As the cashier rang up my last items, she gestured towards the "super buy" of the day. Before she could even say the words, I squeaked "1 bag- the one with chocolate bars". I buckled! G-bean looked at me confused, "Didn't you just say...". Oh kid, this is one of those times where you do as I say and not as I do.

The Stork Won't Fly

While driving the other day, G-bean decided to ask R a serious question. "Dad how do babies come out?" she inquired. GULP, nervous chuckle, beads of sweat..."That is a great question for your mother." Not one of R's most shining 'Father knows best' moments. All things girly and messy make him squirm. Good luck R, you've got 2 daughters!

Upon arriving home, they both sat me down and presented me with the loaded question. G-bean seeking an honest answer and R praying for someone else to handle this delicate subject. When I asked her what she thought, she guessed the baby's best exit options were through the mouth or belly button. Here was my chance. My opportunity to open the lines of communication so that my kids would know they could always get a straightforward answer from their parents. HA! I gave her a very honest response (certain details excluded). When finished with what I felt was articulate and appropriate information, G-bean & R looked horrified. I think they liked G-bean's options better. Maybe next time I will stick with the stork.

Cravings or Ravings?

You know you are in bad shape when Frito's & Cranberry juice sound better than being stranded on a tropical island with a masseuse! Oh the things that go bump in the night in this belly o' mine. This week I have already polished off 1 jar of pimento stuffed green olives, half a jar of pickles, guzzled 2 gallons of milk, and downed my weight in sourdough toast. People- are these legitimate cravings or mad woman ravings? My world is nothing but salt & sour. Baking has lost it's luster while opening brine-filled jars brings such delight! Who am I? Who has taken over my body? I feel like one of those capsules where you just add water until they balloon up into some odd shaped creature. It's not all weird science. I do find myself giggling at the absurdity of my breakfast. All I can handle is Special K which boldly promises to take inches off my waistline. Ironically mine seems to grow a few inches each week. I have thought about complaining to Kellogg's just for my amusement.

I finally surrendered to this force of nature called pregnancy. I pulled out the paneled pants. YUP! I laughed, scoffed & dismissed the idea of those spandex contraptions. I told R it was way too soon. "I am still a svelte woman," I claimed. Alas when I tried them on for entertainments sake, let's just say I wasn't so amused. It was then that R admitted how wonderful they looked. Wonderful?! Upon further investigation, he admitted that I haven't looked comfortable in my jeans for a few weeks now. In not so many words, the man told me I had been walking around looking like a stuffed sausage coming out of its casing. Hmmmm...I guess panels aren't that bad.

What Is Stronger Than Duct Tape?

Alas, E's will is stronger than duct tape. She escaped!! Those quiet moments I innocently assumed E was napping--E was actually freeing herself from her "super star belt". (Yes, we gave it a name to jazz it up.) She is our little naked Houdini aka "Nude-ini". It all makes sense now. I wondered why E would hold so still for diaper changes and extra strength tape applications. It turns out, she was patiently biding her time and strategizing her exit. And exit she did! When I peeked in to check on her, there IT was... World's soggiest diaper sitting in the middle of the room with shreds of silver dangling from it's remains. It had been lobbed over the side of her crib and left for pick up. And there SHE was...peacefully asleep in the buff! Back to the onesies we go!

*Do you see that devilish glint in her eye?

Three Things

Three things:

-First, today we found out that we are having a baby boy. Crazy- I know! Up until this point, R thought he was destined to live in the land of pink & princesses. As the ultrasound would have it, there will be one more prince charming in our kingdom. G-bean is now excited. At first she was flustered, because she wanted a baby girl named Carol. I don't know where she gets this stuff.

-Second, G-bean lost her first tooth. The only problem is that she has no recollection as to where it is or when it happened. We think she might have swallowed it. So if it takes 7 years for gum to digest, how long does it take for a tooth? The tooth fairy definitely has her work cut out for her.

-Third, I am going to admit to something quite silly. I duct taped my daughter into her diaper today. According to other moms, it is not child abuse. E does not like to wear pants...ever. When left to her own devices, she will strip & run. Such behavior is not kosher at nap time. So today, I pulled out that handy multi-purpose tape and strapped her in. SUCCESS! I have yet to hear a peep from her room. I haven't planned her exit strategy from the diaper, but I'm sure it will make for a great story.

Family Fumble

Who doesn't love Fall? Who doesn't look forward to the weekend? The wife of a football fan that's who!! While I love the season, it can sometimes be overshadowed by a large blue "Y". Although R attempts to engage in family fun, when game time rolls around...let's just say that 'the game is on, but nobody is home'. He's a warm body to us and a hot-blooded fan to his team.

The second Saturday of football season began like any other weekend until early afternoon when the headphones came out. R started to putter about the house attempting to be super helpful which only meant one thing...tip off was in an hour. He did what few men have done before...saw a need and took care of it without prompting. He voluntarily did the dishes!

When I inquired about the need for headgear, I was informed that the pre-game show was just as important. It's foreplay for football fans. Since when have men been so concerned about foreplay? As if that wasn't enough stimulation, the end of the game rolled right into the post game show. Television off, headphones back on. I quickly learned that was also a priority for an uber fan. It's like the cuddling afterward. Once again, since when do men like to cuddle after? Oh the things I will never understand. Three sisters and a brother that loved science did not prepare me for this.

So while R watched big boys pass the pigskin and listened to them replay their moments of glory, the girls napped and I found refuge painting furniture in the garage. Fumes or football, pick your poison!

Book Smarts

First & foremost, I love my family. That being said, sometimes a lady needs a break. For those of you who can relate, read on...the rest of you just better go back to your familial bliss.

Tonight I dropped my family off and ran away. Okay that sounds a little dramatic. I did not pack a suitcase and hide in a tree house. Let's just say I went to return a video and took the LONG way home. As a child, my grandmother taught me that the best place to escape was a good book. Therefore, I found myself wandering aimlessly around Barnes & Noble. The smell of Starbucks wafting through rows & rows of uncracked books and intellectuals mingling over lattes was heaven. No one grabbing my face or pulling at my hemline demanding my undivided attention. I could just be. By proximity, I exuded intelligence. For all these bookies knew I was a political genius, rocket scientist, journalist, professor. I had found my people...and best of all, they didn't expect anything from me. For a good hour, I checked out of my life and pretended to be someone with a brain. Rubbing elbows with college students, philosophers, book worms, and random loiterers, I found that I wanted to sink into a recliner and have deep thoughts. I wanted to go back to when my brain was mine...uncluttered & interesting!

As I sipped my steaming Starbucks delight, I wandered without purpose. Almost wishing I had important research to conduct or a term paper to write, I itched to be a student again. I thumbed through heavy volumes that were way beyond my comprehension. I paused for a moment in front of the classics. While paying my respects, I stared off into space. I reveled in the absence of any thoughts or responsibilities, but hoped for brilliance by osmosis. I then passed the home reference section. It was there that smug Martha Stewart posed contently with household cleaning items on the cover of a book thicker than my waistline (which is hard to beat these days!). Believe me, no one enjoys cleaning that much. And any enjoyment I feel comes from the fumes! Can't a girl escape from domestic duties? Hello, I am hiding in a bookstore! Besides Martha if I have time to read your cumbersome book, it means that I have finished pulling out all of my eyelashes and knitted a vest with them.

I digress. Perusing aisles and mentally making lists of interesting books, I realized that I have no excuse. I can't use the "if I only had a brain" line, because this is not the Wizard of Oz. This is my life. I can be a life long learner. I just have to make time for my own stimulus. So how do I do it all? While Martha makes it seem easy, she also has a staff and record. My question is this- in the absence of a hired team and prison smarts, how do you make time for you?