It's a girl!

Charlotte Serenity was born yesterday afternoon at 4:08 pm in terrifically impressive fashion. She weighed in at a small-for-one-of-ours 7 lbs 14 oz and was 20.5 inches long. We're both quite well and I'm so excited to finally get to meet her!

Viewer discretion advised.

If my internet decides to cooperate, I'll post a photo on here. It's rather disturbing, I'm sorry. There's a reason I avoid mirrors these days. We're in a homeschool co-op this year, and I'm helping out in the elementary music class. The looks on some of the 5th-6th grade girls are quite funny. They look completely scared and like they'll never, ever have kids of their own after seeing what it's done to me. My apologies to all the mothers there that will never become grandmothers because of me. I didn't mean to do it.

Just killed the biggest tarantula I never wanted to see. It was inches from my sleeping son's head and the body mass was size of my fist, plus giant furry legs. Yes, I screamed. Called Blaine afterward and he laughed at me and my panic. He's so in the doghouse. But rest assured, when Blaine finds the dead tarantula on his pillow, I'll call it even.

Washed a load of gender-neutral clothes so the baby won't be naked until I get the right tub of clothes out after it's born. First Ruby tried to put the teeny shoes on herself, then gave up and held each and every item up to my belly, then pulled on my belly and told the baby to come out so she could try them on it. If only it had worked. Must be a boy. My girls, with their love of clothes, would have listened. Sterling, on the other hand, would rather leave well enough alone and just be naked. 1.5 weeks to due date. Or 3.5 weeks to I-certainly-won't-be-pregnant-still-no-matter-what. You know, whichever you prefer. Ruby taught me due dates can't be depended upon. Should have got her some clothes out and told her she could try them on when she came out. For Ruby, that would have worked.

Photos taken. Now I just have to get them off the camera. One. Slow. Step. At. A. Time. These things just cannot be rushed. Or maybe it's just me that cannot be rushed these days. Waddling takes effort, you know.

Back, momentarily and without much forethought. Sorry folks.

We lost our internet and my phone's service the day after my last post, and the internet connection I'm currently trying to use is interesting to say the least. It's taking me back to the days of dialup... for a much higher than dialup price. Grr, Alltel.

We have hot water! It's been cleared, tested, and shown sound in the gas lines department around here. That first hot shower was awesome - and I have yet to lose the marvel when I'm able to "jump in the shower" and it only takes the time that my shower actually takes. Sterling has told me many times that he fixed the hot water for me. He helped his daddy for certain, and he's convinced he's the one who accomplished all that happened under-house.

I'm still pregnant. 38 weeks and 1 day pregnant, to be precise. I can't wait to meet this baby and get my body "back". You know, because it just snaps right back to pre-baby shape as soon as baby's born.

Our internet "fix" is a laptop, provided graciously to us by my new writing position, so I can get back to work and pay for it. Nothing like starting a new job and then not doing anything for two weeks. Ugh. On the bright side, the laptop is awesome. Very, very cool.

On that note, I'd better go make supper. I'll do my best to brainstorm and come up with something slightly more interesting next blog. But before I go...

Sterling informed me that, if I look when baby's born, if it has an ah-hem, you know... when it's born, that means it's a boy. But if it doesn't have one, it's a girl. But he thinks they will match. Good to know. His next question... what do you call it when it's a girl? I took a deep breath, prayed he'd never remember, and told him the truth. Then I changed the subject.

We bought a house a few months ago. No shocker there. Three and a half months and much labor later, we look like we don't clean up after ourselves. Rest assured, dear neighbors, this will all be better. Someday. First things first, we're getting a lawn mower. I'm beyond excited. We have a push mower that I'd used up until about a month ago, when baby #5 decided it was time I stop spending 5 hours a week mowing our hills. Or rather, it is quite possible that my body was the one who made that decision. Either way, our lawn is now a month long, thankfully a dry month, but pathetic and driving me nuts all the same. Come Thursday, hopefully I can ride around in style on our new (to us) riding lawn mower. So excited. But the pipes laying in the yard? They'll be gone eventually, I'm promised. The trees will be trimmed when the things that are louder stop screaming. We really are accomplishing something here. The kids toys will likely be there for many years to come, though. Who needs flowers when you have colorful trikes and scooters everywhere, right? Ugh. Maybe next year.
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We may have hot water come the weekend. Maybe. You just never hold your breath on these things; they have a way of not working out often enough. But the gas company comes Friday to test Blaine's work and a hot shower is nearly tangible from there. All the water pipes are replaced and every faucet is functioning - things I will not take for granted for a very long time, I'm thinking.

My newest realization: we bought a house in a great location. Love it. But when two of my four dear children get carsick on the curves on the way into town, I'm starting to wonder. I've started to carry a clean outfit for one dear child everywhere we go, since that one is less than capable of hitting the bucket completely - but we have a bucket I can throw into the backseat with deadly aim these days even when driving. I'm not certain how my van smells these days, but my guess is someone else could tell me better than I. I doubt it's pretty. If you ever ride with me, be forewarned. You start to hear coughing, you've got about 2 minutes before a bucket flies through the air at the noisy one, all the windows go down in an attempt to cool the cougher off and ward off the inevitable - but it never works. Lunch always comes back to visit a second time. If we show up to something and you smell something fishy, pretend it's someone else, please. I try. I've started carrying wipes again, but you can only do so much. It's not contagious, I promise. And for the record, this is all Blaine's fault. They did not inherit this trait from me.

Liberty asked me today what comes after Romans. I said Ephesians. My dear husband corrected me when I told him this story, so before you email me regarding my error, I know. In all fairness I was 2 hours into typing court reports for a job I've started for an online news site, and my head was swimming. I do not know law, the correct way to word things, or how to think about books of the Bible and felonies at the same time. My brain doesn't multitask as well as I once thought, it turns out.

So, Ephesians. Or rather, what Liberty told Eden when she repeated my response. "Confusions, Eden. It's Confusions." Ah yes, that would describe my state of mind, at the very least.

Brady, dear dog, finally learned to ring the bell when she wants to go outside. And that yes, she really wants to go outside for such business. It took some convincing on that part, and she's not without her accidents, but finally. Ah, the rejoicing when that little bell rang was a sight to behold. The girls, my belly and I did a little dance. If you can call jerky uncoordinated and slightly painful movements on my part dancing. My belly though, it danced. Just kept right on jiggling, even after I'd stopped. Dwell on that one for a moment and let me know if you laughed - or cringed. Ah, the joys.

A photo, provided it's flattering according to me, is coming. Just as soon as I've done my hair, makeup, and find a shirt that will still cover the bottom of my belly. Don't hold your breath - but know that I'm working on it. If nothing else, I'll go buy a Mu-mu. A really, really flattering Mu-mu. You know.

Baby's big, but not as big as Sterling was at this point. Due in 4 weeks. Please, please, make that 2? Fun once-a-week appointments have begun. I'm dilated to 1cm. 50%. That means nothing, I assure you. Except that I'm not in labor, I suppose. No name yet. No closer to a name yet. Poor, poor child. In our discussions of proper and common nouns today, we were talking of first, middle and last names, and going through Blaine's siblings and all their many names. We named off 22 first/middle names that his parents had to choose, and Liberty said, "Wow! That's a lot of names to have to pick!" Tell me about it. Trying to pick 10 is hard enough. Sterling was playing "Meanie, Meanie, Mo, Catch a Tiger by his Toe..." in Sterling fashion today. Maybe we should just get out to baby name book and let him at it.

I'm tired. And tired writings from me typically go cynical. Or sarcastic. I'd better just call it a night before this gets worse.

A few rather long stories on a really hot day that has not included indoor plumbing or A/C... bear with me here.

CATO cashier:
"Wow! You are really pregnant!"
"Um, thanks. I have at least a month left."
"Is it twins or something?"
"No."
"Oh. Um, you look really good."
Gee, thanks! Somehow I'm not certain that was a compliment after all that. But it does explain why I'm feeling mostly miserable these last few days. Apparently I look ready to explode. It's going to be an interesting month-month and a half.

I went out alone today. Shocker, I know. But apparently being alone with a giant belly invites all sorts of comments I haven't gotten since several kids back. A man in the store asked me if I was having a boy. When I said I didn't know, he informed me he thought I was, since my "all-round, low belly" usually means a boy. Time will tell, but it was interesting anyhow. With all of the others I'd have random people guess and only once do I remember someone being wrong. Apparently if you feel free to comment, you have a lot of experience with these things.

Oh, and the reason I was out and about on a Saturday? Blaine disconnected the sewer to work on it. First, no hot water, then no water except in the hose and the toilet and the kitchen sink, and now, no nothing except the hose and the kitchen sink. No toilet is not a good plan. TMI, I'm sure, but I'm pretty sure my balance is off enough right about now that finding a tree and attempting to make use of the outdoors would land poison ivy or some such thing in some pretty dreadful places when I fell over. Thank you, Hobby Lobby, for your public restroom. And Blaine, for suggesting that today was a great day to go shopping - alone. Dear man.

Monday I went grocery shopping. Hang in there with me here, this story gets better. So first I took the kids to the library, checked out 35 books - mostly kids books I've read 12 times each, aloud. But I digress. So we haul the books back to the car, thoroughly enjoying the 100 degree day. Literally, 100 degrees. Hottest day since 2007 I'm told. We made a deposit at the bank, after debating whether to get cash out. Nah, I'm good with just the debit card and the 30.00 cash I have. Got to Aldi, needed a quarter for the cart. No wallet. My wallet seems to have migrated from my purse to an unknown location - at home. I had 30.00 cash in my purse anyhow, so if I be careful at Aldi, I'll be fine there, then I'll call Blaine and get his debit card from him. Faster than going home - 12 miles away from where I was. If I hadn't made the deposit yet, things would have been fine - I could have gotten cash. But no ID and no debit card means the bank won't talk to me now. So I broke part of my 30.00 to get a quarter for the Aldi cart, and some apparently less than careful calculating, and checkout later... 34.76. Nope. Not going to work. Put some cereal and butter back. We'll survive until next shopping trip. 29.83. Seriously! I have 29.75. The other .25 is in the cart. The cashier must have had one of those days before, because she gave me change for 30.00 and told me to bring the quarter back inside after I'd returned the cart. Whew. Embarrassing, but I'll survive.

Call Blaine. No answer. Try again. Nope. Fine then. I'll drive the 12 miles home to get my wallet, because this was the day, there was my list, and some things were pretty critical on it. Half an hour later, I'm at the bread store, wallet in hand, and my van that has decided to overheat when the A/C is running some time ago - forgot to mention that part - the van overheats even with no A/C on. Remember, it's 100 degrees. I have four sweaty kids with me who were quite hungry, waiting for the bread store stop so I could make them PBJ's. The van decided overheating during A/C was not enough. Not it's overheating without A/C. Solution: turn the heat on. High. Open windows, blaring heat, praying for all green lights as we head to our last stop - trust me, things were not so pretty. I'm fairly cool (ha!) most of the time, but this day was seriously getting to me by then. I parked at the far end of the lot at the last store, finding a pull-through spot just in case this trip ended with a bang and I needed to be able to get to the front of the van. You know, that fear.

I can't find my list. Seriously. Please, end this drama now and let something go right? I'm digging, and I hear Bang! Bang! I turn to see Ruby with her new metal water jug, banging the shiny red car that parks on the far side of the lot to avoid people like me and my children and their metal water jugs denting his shiny red car. "RUBY! NO!!!" She stops. I start to inspect the shiny red car - still quite shiny and without evidence of Ruby's abuse, look up, and an older man is watching me. Just the type of older man that would own a... oh, no. Please. No. But of course, it's his car. And all he says is "My! That's a lot of children! Do they obey?" "Um, most of the time, but they are children and right now... we're at the end of a shopping trip and it's hot and things are not going well." "Ah, I see." And he got into his car and left! No inspection of Ruby's work. Really, she didn't do any damage. But I was scared nonetheless. So I found my list, got my things, and then took the interstate home, just so I could get more air in the van than the fearfully hot air blasting into my 33-weeks-pregnant lungs up to that point. And yes, my lungs are pregnant too. Trust me on that one.

Just for the record, Blaine also offered up his van for my use until the other is fixed. It does not have a second sliding door and is smaller, but the A/C works and the heat is only optional. I accepted. He's a very kind soul.

Apparently I'm highly predictable. While my search baby names is still on, Facebook friends came through with many name suggestions. About 80% are on my favorite list - a list of names that contains none that thrill my dear husband. But the fact that my friends have nailed almost my entire list is almost disturbing. Almost.

One morning Sterling came bursting into the back door with, "Momma, you're the best..." He trailed off, paused, my heart was cheered by his outburst - and then he corrected himself. "Momma, I'm the best fire truck driver!" Ah, yes. For a moment there, I thought perhaps I was doing something just right for my boy. What a moment.

Mom's Night Out last night. Such fun. No kids. It was awesome. And the snuggles I got this morning, evidence that I really was missed, were pretty awesome too.

"Momma, where's the dutch tape?"
"You mean the duct tape?"
"I said dutch tape!"
"I know you did. It's duct tape."
"That's what I said! Dutch tape."
Ok, Eden. Whatever you say. Funny enough though, she may just start a new word around here. Then, when I informed her we didn't have any in the house, only masking tape, I heard as she headed outside to tell Blaine, "Daddy? Momma said we only have mask tape. There isn't any dutch tape in the house." Yep, whatever you say.

Name that baby.

You know those people who have the baby named before it's even conceived? You know who you are. Two people, so in sync that they can agree on a name together without much fuss - something Blaine and I are not. So not. With that in mind, anyone have name suggestions that flow with our others - and preferably don't re-use any of their first initials? I'd willingly give up that one if I found a truly great name though - that Blaine agreed to.

And before you think this is easy, let me assure you, it's not. Eden Rayne was the earliest named at around 7 months, Liberty Skye, and Sterling Blaine got their "If it's a..." names around 8.5 months gestation, and dear Miss Ruby was several hours old before Blaine finally told me I could choose from our list of "Maybe's" and name her. Morphine had a play in the naming of Ruby Alexandra, in case you were wondering. Morphine in me, not Blaine. Obviously.

So if you have any suggestions, comment away. And if your find your comment deleted, you may very well have won first place - and with it, the recognition of having named that baby. In the meantime, I'm thinking five kids might be plenty. Ten names later (well, eight, if you want to be specific since this one is yet unnamed) this hasn't gotten any easier. We've used up all the good ones up. 20,000 names in my baby name book and nothing jumps out anymore. Might be a good time to stop. Or build a bigger blog, with more readers. Someone should be able to think of something that way, right???

Replay 101

Remember that poop story about Ruby and her bed I blogged about here? Yeah, hit replay on that one, less the company (thankfully!) and insert a less-than-warm shower at the end instead of the pooping in the tub - I'm not stupid, we're not going there. Oh, and change the part where Blaine's home to help clean up to him being at work working hard and Momma being sick on the couch for most of the day. Yep, that about covers the changes to that scenario.

Thank you, Son.

Sterling is a lover of books. He'll bring me a stack of as many as he can carry - usually approaching double digits in number - and ask me if I can read them all to him. One is not enough. Or as he likes to quote 20 Hungry Piggies, "because 19 little piggies is NOT enough..." Sterling chose to quote another favorite book yesterday. He came bursting into the kitchen and informed me, "Momma, you waddle like a duck does!*" Oh, thank you, dear boy. You have no idea what you just said, but thank you for that nonetheless.

*Compliments of Do Like a Duck Does. :)

Any day now I'll have him quoting Shakespeare of C.S. Lewis or Calvin... Maybe something more pleasant will be directed toward me and my waddle. Then again, it might be quite convicting. You just never know.

Brady: Abused or loved?

Brady is our new puppy. Pretty sure she's been well-mentioned by now. I've been a bit remiss in posting photos though, and I'm trying to be better about these things, so here's a few I took on Saturday. Abused, loved, or both? You decide. But just for proof for my dear mother, who gave us Brady, she's alive, well, slightly abused by small children, loved, and bathed regularly. She's not house trained quite yet, but we're getting there - and I'm really trying. Sometimes it's just easier to clean it up than it is to remember to take her potty. But since I have four potty trained children, I imagine the dog will get there too - eventually. She even goes for car rides. And she's not in the sorry shape I dreamed of last night when I dreamed of Brady. Thankfully. Call it pregnant dreams... Ugh.

Ruby, the bell ringer. Brady, not quite,

A good friend gave me a great idea for Brady. Thank you, Bunny. I hung a bell on the door with the intention of teaching Brady to ring the bell when she needs to go out and use the lawn. She's been whining slightly before we find puddles beside the door, but little whines are not exactly heard or paid attention to around these parts. Now, if I could just teach Ruby to leave the bell alone, or it won't work either. Bells will go on my list of ignored very annoying sounds if she doesn't leave well enough alone. Hobby Lobby, on the other hand, has some very cute bells on sale right now. Little girls think they are particularly fun.

One spy frog...

Blaine provided me with a photo of the frog that returns each night to catch his evening meal on our living room window. Just in case a close up of the underside of a frog isn't just slightly creepy to you - because it's looking a little creepy to me right about now!

Belly shadows?

MckMama, a blog I follow rather loosely at best - in my free time you know - had a "You might be nearing the end of your pregnancy" post a few days ago. My favorite of hers: "…you can’t wait to hurry up and give birth so that you can fit into your maternity clothes again." So true. But I have one of my own to add.

After a day at the lake with friends and a lot of time spent sitting on my behind in a boat, I burned the tops of my thighs. Yes, it's painful. Even more painful was when Blaine informed me I had a belly shadow. Yes, dear friends, my belly shadowed my thighs and created a lovely white half circle that didn't burn. Thank you, baby.

Ah, the things that have occurred - and left me with no time to blog about them. I'm sure I'll forget a few, but I'll try to catch up.

Today Ruby and Eden are modeling for the Bass Pro fall catalog. Blaine was in the 2010 Fall Master a few times, should anyone care to see. He looks so entirely out of this element in hunting gear though... I had to laugh. Ruby's modeling t-shirts and Eden's modeling hooded towels today. Eden's on cloud nine... and keeps telling me she's going to be wearing her swimming suit under the towel "So I can be modest." Can you tell we've been working on that one? It's a hard one for me; I want them to learn to keep their bodies covered without thinking they ought to be ashamed... how to teach that???

My belly is huge. Blaine tells me he's not certain if I was this big at this point with the others. With 10 weeks to go, I'm starting to wonder if I'll be graduating yet another size in the wonderful world of maternity clothes before this is all said and done. So not cool. I'm still mowing the lawn these days though - it takes me about 5 hours over the course of two mornings to get it all done, and a nap is most definitely required on those days, but pressing forward... makes me hopeful the massive amount of weight I've gained thus far will "just fall right off" like everyone says. Weight falling off of me has not been something I've experienced in the past, but hey, I'm allowed to dream a little.

It's 90 degrees today. The heat index is 105. The A/C has not made it to the top of Blaine's to-fix list yet. I'm 29 weeks + 6 days pregnant. Feeling my pain? The gas line is still in progress. No hot water yet. Cold showers right about now aren't really a problem though. Blaine's promised me several hours of A/C during the photo shoot this afternoon though... and given me permission to go shopping should I feel the need to cool down in the meantime. Yep, that conversation was a funny one.

On the bright side, sun tea takes a whopping 12 minutes to brew properly. The other 12 hours I leave it sitting on the patio are just for good measure.

We've had a big black dog in our yard most of last week. I think it's a rottweiler/great dane something or another. Big. It stands about waist (ha! if I had one...) high to me, and comes up to wherever the kids and I are at the moment and growls and barks. Blaine comes around and it runs away - all the way to our shed. I finally called the sheriff, unsure what I could do about it once I'd introduced myself to the neighbors. (That was a nice lead-in. "Hello, I just moved in down the road. Here's my giant belly, there's my MSC*... do you own a giant black dog?")

*MSC = Many Small Children

So of course, once the sheriff told me I could do what I wanted to do to rid my yard of the big black dog, the stinking thing moved on. I was really looking forward to, you know, exercising my rights as a property owner outside of the city limits... but nope. But now I know! And as for the neighbors... they thought the thing was ours and were wondering about us, so I'm ever so glad we cleared that one up! Brady, teeny whimpy black dog that she is, isn't going to post a threat to the neighbors, rest assured. No one who hears "Yorkie Poo" quakes in their boots, exactly... unless they're a toad. She loves the toads... but they don't love her so much.

We have a spy frog. Every night, once it's dark and the lights inside are on, it climbs onto our living room window and eats the moths that our lights attract. It's far more interesting than anything on the three channels we get on the tv. But a frog, on your window, night after night? One begins to wonder if it's a spy. You know, because me, collapsed on the couch in front of a fan and under a ceiling fan after a long day... now that's a sight to behold.

I'm missing many stories, but I'm drawing a blank and this post has grown plenty large. I had an entire blog written in my head after being unable to sleep the other night, itching with chigger bites - aha, there's one of those stories - but beats me if I can remember what that post was about. As for the chiggers, blame them on the growling big black dog. It's all her fault.

We're moved, if you call living around boxes moved. Everything's here, anyhow. We're still heating water for baths/dishes, but being here is so much better than the traveling back and forth each day. It's home.

About the baths... It takes many minutes and many pans of hot water to be able to take a bath. No quick and easy feat. No complaints, just life for the moment. But tonight...

We had "company" over - thankfully, friends we've known for years and nothing awkward, but Ruby pushed that one just a bit. She wouldn't stop fussing over not getting a second brownie, got put into her bed and that was that. Ha. She started hollering for me, I went to check on her, and the stench met me first. She'd pooped in her panties, taken them off, and smeared it everywhere. She even sat on the windowsill next to her bed. Ah, new low. Right? Not exactly. That is the first time I've washed poop off of a windowsill, that's for sure. Blaine began the heating water process to bathe her, and 20 minutes later when the bath was warm, the kids in it, Sterling hollered "Mom, Ruby pooped in the tub!" Seriously? She's never done that before that I can recall - ever. So the heated water went down the drain, we called them clean enough until tomorrow, and Ruby called it all "Funny". Momma? Not so much. And now, dear friends, I believe I've reached a new low. Ah, the embarrassment. The anger. The stench. The kids are in bed. Vindictive child, I'm thinking. What to do with that one? They just don't warn you enough about these things.

We've moved!

Through a fun turn of events, we're moved, without hot water, and I've never been so glad to take a cold shower in my life. So cool. (Ha, didn't that one come out funny!) We'll be without internet until I can get the proper people called, so here's a goodbye until we surface out from under the pile of boxes...

One small step.

Just sent off our first mortgage payment for the house that we're not even living in yet. It was a "Well, here we go. For the... Next. Thirty. Years. kind of feeling. A 'I'll be 56 when we get this paid off if we only pay the minimum. Likely a grandma, many times over.' kind of feeling." Wow. And, just in case you were wondering, I didn't send just the minimum. Here's to paying it off before I'm 56!