One More Week!

How can seven days seem so short and so long at the same time? We had what should be our last ultrasound yesterday. Everything looks basically the same, which is good. He weighs 6 lbs. 6 oz., which is a huge jump from last time -- he is ahead of the growth curve. Maybe that is why I feel so fat and sluggish (or maybe it's the chocolate donuts I had for breakfast on Sunday). He should be 7 lbs. by the time he is born, which is pretty decent for being two weeks early. I guess we just have big babies.

Even though I was much more forward-planning than usual in getting ready for his arrival, I still have a ton of stuff to do this week. But that's okay, because I need stuff to keep me busy (as if Mac won't take care of that). I think that getting through the week will be okay, but the weekend will be unbearable.

I guess instead of procrastinating on the computer, I should go start some of these so-called essential activities.

Mackensie Paige is a Rock Star!

Enough said.

Two-berty -- for better or for worse

So Mac is in the full throes of what I have heard referred to as "two-berty." "No" has officially become her favorite word, and it is always uttered in a tone that can make the hair on the back of your neck stand straight up. I hear myself threaten to take things away at least 500 times a day -- juice, milk, little people, books, markers, pens -- whatever it takes. We also work a lot on the barter system :

"If you want to play outside later, you have to come in and eat your dinner right now."

"No." (of course)

"Okay then, no playing outside for the rest of the night." (how very drastic -- could I actually follow through with that?)

"Okay." (I think I just won!)

And then she asks me "Are you mean?" which means "Are you mad?" and "Are you happy mommy?" I try to explain that it's not about whether I'm happy or not, but whether she is behaving or not. That explanation never gets me very far, and I always wind up telling her that I am mean or happy (that usually gets me a hug).

Of course, there is an upside to twoberty, too. Mac has a million cute little habits and we are able to have a lot of fun together. We have spent our summer:

Listening to Disney Songs in the car. Mac knows all of the words to Supercalifragilisticexpialidotios and we sing them all (Of course, that's because we listen to the songs over and over and over)

Reading our books and snuggling in bed at night for a few minutes before Mac goes to sleep

Eating ice cream with M&Ms and sprinkles

Playing little people

Watching cartoons

Playing on the swing set

and Playing at Grandma and Grandpa's houses

Mac loves to sing and dance and run around like a crazy person. She is funny and smart and sweet and precocious and naughty all at once. Although we sometimes struggle, and I am always tired by the time she goes to bed at night, she is wonderful. She makes twoberty look good.

Two more weeks...will I make it?

Two weeks from today Oliver will be with us (on the outside)! The doctors say that everything looks basically the same, which is good. He's about 5 and a half pounds, which means he will be about 6 and a half when he is born. Sooo much smaller than Mackensie, who I had to push out on my own. His swelling isn't too bad, and the chiari malformation isn't completely present. We don't even ask what the updates and new numbers mean anymore, because the doctors always say "We can't tell you anything for sure until he gets here."



But I think that he might be as eager as I am for his birthday. I had a lot of contractions last night, only ten minutes apart. I never went into labor on my own with Mac; never even had contractions with Mac until after they induced. So I don't really know what it feels like to go into labor. Somehow I knew it wasn't IT last night but 10 minutes apart for 2 hours is pretty serious. I do not want to go into labor in NJ when I have to make it all the way down Philly!

Everything's almost ready for him. I think that I'm ready for him (but it depends on when you ask). Please just pray that he waits until it is time.

Get in my belly...

Sweet Lord -- logic tells me that if I eat another thing I will burst, but I just can't stop. I'm so hungry! What is wrong with me? I heated up a huge bowl of leftovers for lunch, convinced that I would have enough for another sitting and now I am licking the sides of the Tupperware clean while simultaneously trying to figure out what else I have in the house that I can move on to next. Does anyone remember the game Hungry Hippos? The one where there were four hippos in a square, and each player tried to get their hippo to eat the most marbles in order to win? Let's just say that I've turned into the hippo champion -- I even eat food that Mac leaves on her plate for more than a few minutes. Made her two pieces of toast this morning --ate one of them before she even came into the kitchen.

At left: A view of a petite belly from a few weeks ago. Imagine this belly at twice the size pictured.