The Fairytale

Okay, I know there are a lot of royal wedding haters out there.  I'd say my Facebook friend list was pretty evenly divided between the watchers and the haters, and I've heard other dismissive comments for several  days now.  

Since I married a thoroughly Scottish man, our merry band of wee lads and lasses are very used to their father making little jokes at the expense of the English.  Nothing cruel, mind you, but just that wry Scottish humor of his that I love so well.    All that to say that we are not known to be huge anglophiles.

But . . .  but . . . it's a wedding!  Come on, how can you not love a wedding?  Doesn't anyone else choke up a little when they hear marriage vows being spoken before God?  Is is just a woman thing?  A pregnant woman thing?  A me thing?

I haven't followed most of the coverage, I didn't get up at 4:30 to watch, and I don't have a DVR so I couldn't record the events.  I'm more than satisfied to watch all the recaps.

But I also have a little girl who believes that princesses are the best thing about being a girl.  It's not just the dresses and the tiaras, although they are pretty nice perks.   Sally knows that to be a real princess, a lady has to be kind, true, loving, and full of grace.  I think she's right.

I know that are a lot of women out there who don't want to perpetuate the princess stereotype for little girls.  They want them to be empowered and free and bold and choosy.   You know what?  I'd rather have the kind, loving, true, graceful princess.  

So once I got the bigger kids off to school, I tuned in and let Sally watch the balcony appearance and kiss between the newlyweds.  Sally almost could not grasp the concept of a real princess, since she is used to the cartoon variety, but she loved seeing it all.  

Bun, on the other hand, only cared about the balcony flyover by the RAF.  That and all the waving flags.  He digs nationalism, I guess.

And the dress!  I think it's got to be one of the most beautiful wedding dresses I've seen.  I love that it was demure and feminine, with long sleeves and lace.  She looked every bit the princess, and I pray that they have a long and happy life together.

As much as I enjoyed watching, now I need to switch gears quickly from one sacrament to another.  Fiver receives his first holy communion tomorrow, and there is a lot of cleaning and preparing to be done. 
But the sun is shining, the flowers are blooming, and the little kids are "helping,"  so I think we're good to go.

 Happy weekend, my friends!

Since You Asked . . .**(updated)

I just came back from the doctor, and everything is looking good.  Being just past 37 weeks now, I can technically go into labor safely at any time now.

haha. heehee. hoho.    Yeah, right.

I am totally hunky-dory with tempting fate and making fun of going into labor before my due date.  In fact, there would be quite a few scheduling problems that could be cleared up by having the baby now.

But since it's been almost 12 years since I last went into labor on my own, I'm not holding my breath.  I think my body may now be conditioned to wait for a little fake labor hormone prompting before committing to the big show.

Maybe that sounds a little callous --to talk about the arrival of a precious new life in the same way you might talk about a dental appointment --but when you've got five other little people who still need to eat, sleep, get washed and get to school . . . well, it happens.  There are a lot of arrangements that need to be made.

We love you, #6!!  Now if only you'd let Mom pencil you in on the calendar . . . .

Baby seems to be behaving by already being head down, unlike the previous two occupants who thought it would be funny to flip heads-up at the very end of the third trimester.  That's what happens when you try to make your uterus all stretchy and accommodating.

Of course, I scared them right quick into flipping back around when I decided that I'd pop into the hospital to try an external cephalic version, which doesn't sound terribly comfortable for anyone involved.  It's better to just do what Mom says from the very beginning, guys.

My doctor likes to joke that my blood pressure is better than hers, so I guess that the throbbing vein I feel when all the kids are scattering to the winds and leaving a mess in their wake is really not a sign that my blood pressure is in danger of making my head explode.  Good to know.

Aside from the usual discomfort of the third trimester and the significant hip pain I have experienced since my pregnancy with Sally, I am just playing the waiting game.  I should be playing the "dig around in storage for our baby stuff" game, but that doesn't seem to be coming together as well as the waiting around part.

I am curiously unconcerned about all that, given my need to organize just about everything. I think it's probably because I haven't really left the "baby stuff" stage for five years now.  We can pretty much host an army of babies at a moment's notice.  It feels relaxing and disconcerting at the same time.

Since we are nearing the end, a few of you have asked me about the good old HomeFront Baby Pool.  Mostly saying, "The POOL!  Are you doing it this time?!  You have to, because I'm ready!"

You know I love you for your enthusiasm, right?!  It makes these last weeks fun, and it's nice to know that everyone else is as crazy as we are to know what we are having. 

So I happily give you the Official 2011 HomeFront Baby Pool! 

(Notice I have refrained from calling it the Annual HomeFront Baby Pool, although it feels like that sometimes . . .)

Here are the terms of participation:

1.  Leave a comment with your predictions, including baby's birth date, gender, and weight.

2. Comments will be accepted on this post up until my due date, which is May 17th.  After that, no more guesses will be accepted.

3. The winner will be the person whose guess is closest in all the categories.  You guys are amazing guessers, and in years past the winner has come down to a difference of mere ounces!  Rob even has a little winner-choosing logarithm thing worked out, so I leave that to him.

4. The winner will receive a special "Pennsylvania" prize package and a donation made in your honor to one of our favorite local organizations, Mary's Shelter.   This place is excellent at offering real, hopeful, life-affirming support to women facing crisis pregnancies.  (And they are trying to open a second location very close to my area, so I'd like to help them as much as possible!)  

And that's all there is to it, my friends.  Once Rob gets home, I'll ask him for his official prediction.  Then I'll be sure to post it here, along with mine. 

For the record, I have been thinking boyishly.  I have nothing on which to base that, except the fact that with this baby my first trimester nausea was about the same as it was with Fiver and Bun.   Other than that, there has been no similarity to my pregnancies of either gender in terms of cravings or the way I carry.  

I will tell you, however, that my intuition has been correct all five times so far.  So my feelings could either be par for the course or my turn for a huge delivery room surprise. I really have no idea.  I'll let you decide.

I look forward to your predictions, and good luck!!



This was the belly two weeks ago.  Now add the three weeks I have left,
do a little pregnancy math in your head, and make a wild guess.



  ** For those interested, here are the parental predicitions:

Rob:  Boy, May 18th, 9lbs
Me:  Boy, May 23rd, 8 lbs 15oz

I know, I know . . . 8 lbs 15 oz is essentially 9 lbs, but I didn't want to guess the same weight as Rob, and that was Fiver's weight, so I went with it.  

Also, since a few friends asked about the weights of the other children, here they are:
8 lbs 9oz; 8lbs 15oz; 9lbs 3oz; 7lbs 12oz (4 weeks early); 9lbs 2oz

Happy guessing!

Alleluia!

Happy Easter, my friends! 

Thankfully, Easter is a season, not just a day, because our day was a whirlwind.   Not in a frenzied, bad way, but in a five-sugared-up-kids way.  

My quest for a decent picture of all the children together was once again denied, but I am becoming more resigned to that.   Someone is always looking the other way, smiling like a deranged maniac, or sulking because they didn't get to sit next to the baby . . .  such is life.

But I did get to Mass with my most favorite people, some lovely weather, some good family visiting, a delicious meal, and a husband who cleaned up all the dishes. 

 

Hopefully, your Easter Sunday was just as wonderful (although maybe slightly less hyperglycemic?). 

Mopsy



From left to right:
Bun, disgruntled about the lack of candy at church; Fiver, smiling like a loon;
Sally, looking in the opposite direction when I said "look at the camera!";
Mopsy in a partial headlock; and Francie trying to keep Mopsy in one place.
Exhausting.



My boys

Bun deciding to forgo the post Mass photo ops

Sally finally looking in the right direction

Francie

Mopsy and me (looking rather like an Easter egg myself --  round and brightly colored!)

Although this week has been flying by, I think that your comments on my last post and a good confession with a wise priest last night has made me feel much more peaceful.   I'm still not doing much of anything, but I have Easter clothes for the children, parents who are bringing Easter dinner to our house, and the ability to make it to church for the next three days.   

Sounds like a pretty good deal to me.

I tried to remember what the liturgies were like last year for Holy Week, and when I couldn't recall them I realized it was because I never made it to any of them.  I was in the hospital delivering Mopsy during Holy Week last year. 

(Well, I wasn't delivering her for the whole week, Thank you God, but she was born on Spy Wednesday, so I spent Holy Week on my "hospital vacation.")

Since I'll be busy delegating house cleaning chores to the children, I thought I'd link up with {pretty, happy, funny, real} over at Like Mother, Like Daughter.  

I'll most likely be gone from the computer for the next few days (unless I can get myself together enough to schedule some auto-posts tonight?), but I will see you on the glorious other side.



{real}
New shoes for Easter.  Lots of new shoes.

{pretty}
"Eileen's Dress." 
Francie wore this dress for her first Easter, then Sally wore it, and now it's Mopsy's turn.
It was given to us by Rob's late godmother, Eileen - one of the funniest and warmest women I've ever met.
We miss her.



{real & happy}
School's out for Easter break today, so that means a little leisure time with a video. 
Leave it to Fiver to notice when I'm trying to get a candid shot.





{funny}
Poor Mopsy is a little shaggy these days.
Why do baby bangs grow three times faster than the rest of their hair?
Especially when I hate to cut baby bangs?






Holy Week Already?

Did Holy Week sneak up on anyone else? Because I feel like it sure has snuck up on me.

On Ash Wednesday, I remember thinking about being only four weeks away from my due date by the time Easter rolled around. That seemed like a very long time to me.

And now here we are: Easter is this Sunday and I am four weeks from my due date. Am I ready for either one? Hard to tell.

I do feel like this Lent has been a rather arid one for me. I can't seem to figure out exactly what I've learned. How have I grown? Other than larger, of course . . .

This has been a season of clinging to the bare minimum for me, and I really have a hard time accepting that's where I am. I don't like just getting by, but sometimes it's necessary.

I don't consider myself a dynamo -- I'm really not always in motion, despite the crowd here -- but I do have a problem with extended stillness. I like quiet time as much as the next mom, but I like to know that I've accomplished something before that quiet time.

It's why I've always empathized with women on strict bed rest. I've never been ordered to rest by a physician, but my body is as good as yelling it at me now. I have to sit down many times during the day, and I feel a little useless.

Of course, I know that I am constantly working. My body is completely devoted to growing the baby, to the exclusion of everything else. It's just that everything else still needs to be done.

As crosses go, this one is so, so tiny, and the end of this season is so close. I'll make it, and maybe I'll even learn what God has been trying to teach me so far.

{pretty, happy, funny, real}

Capturing the context of contentment in everyday life.

Do you read Like Mother, Like Daughter? Oh, you really should. It is such a good blog, written by mothers and daughters, and filled with such interesting, helpful, and uplifting content.

The posts on 12 year old daughters and competence vs. perfectionism alone completely changed my attitude on several things I've been struggling with around here. So good.

Anyway, LMLD has started a little Thursday link-up called {pretty, happy, funny, real} and since I am short on time today -- I should be squishing meatloaf as I type! -- I thought I'd post my pictures and skedaddle.

(My pictures are not in the proper order, but I don't have time to wrestle with Blogger, so I am choosing competence over perfectionism.)

Hope you are having a lovely day, my friends.

{real}

As in real big. And I still have five weeks to go. Oh baby.

{happy}

All it takes is a little Vitamin D, the old-fashioned way.

{funny}

Her concentration on calling someone - anyone! - cracks me up.

{pretty}

Our daffodils finally decided to show their flowers after a long winter.

The Fifth Time's A Charm

Rob's gene dominance is a running joke in our family. Whenever we welcome a new family member, we often hear, "well, he/she looks just like the others. You can always tell a HomeFront baby!"

That's because they all look like Rob. Especially Francie and Bun. In fact, if I hadn't gestated and birthed him, I would swear Bun sprang fully formed from Rob's head, a la Athena and Zeus.

Looking at Bun is like taking a ride in a time machine to Rob's childhood -- especially for my mother-in-law. The only concession I seem to have gotten from genetics is Bun's eye color. Once blue like his father's, they have been steadily changing to green. Fingers crossed they keep on going.

Since I tend to be partial to Rob, I've never had any problem with the children looking like his side of the family. I just figured that was the genetic default setting for our kids.

So imagine my delight when we realized that Mopsy was actually looking a little bit like me. Whee, how novel and fun!!

There are definite differences to be sure. He build is slighter than mine as a baby--she's far more delicate. And her hair is totally different. She has lovely, fine reddish gold hair that is straight as a pin. At her age, mine was dark brown, curly, and I'd already had a few haircuts.

She is not my mini-me, as Bun is for Rob, but she's the closest I've gotten so far. And luckily my mom brought me some old pictures for comparison. At least she looks like I had a hand in more than just being her room and board for nine months.

Right?

(And be sure to enjoy the awesome late '70s pattern on my parents bedspread in the first picture. One of my favorite things about old photos is seeing how all the clothes and decor have changed over the years.)

Monkeys in the Middle

Sally will head off to kindergarten next year, and so there has been a lot of talk about what she can expect at "the big school."

Francie and Fiver are excited to have her join them, and Sally is ready to go. She reminds me at least twice a day that she is going to need a (pink) backpack and a (pink) folder and a (pink) lunchbox and a (pink) jacket for her inaugural year.

Do you see a theme here?

I've been trying to help her realize that we have to make it through the rest of the spring and summer before she gets to kindergarten, but the excitement is still there. And I'm glad for that.

The only hitch in Sally's plan is Bun. She is going to miss him terribly. She mentions it every time she talks about school.

But Mama, you know I'll really miss Bun. I'm just always with him. Can't he come to school with me? I'll let him sit at my desk.

Bless her little heart.

And although Bun is a boy and does not talk about his feelings for days on end, I know he will miss her as well. Normal sibling squabbles aside, he relies on her quite a bit through the day. She is the one he turns to for help or a good play idea or comfort.

Because of my children's ages, I tend to think of them more as sets of two rather than as a whole group. Francie and Fiver are one set, Sally and Bun are the next set, and Mopsy and the new baby make the third set.

Next year, kindergarten will be breaking up the middle set for a while and that transition may be a hard one. Sally doesn't remember a time when Bun was not with her, and because Sally eschewed preschool in favor of staying home, Bun has reaped the benefits of a constant playmate and protector.

There will be new roles for everyone. Sally gets to try her hand at being a bigger girl, the school student. And Bun will get to try his hand at being the oldest for a few hours. He'll become the protector and playmate.

I'm sure they'll both be fine with all the changes, but boy will I miss seeing their two little heads bent together during the day.

Sick Bay

Well . . . this has certainly been a week. A long one, as evidenced by the lack of posting.

One of the joys of having a large family is watching the merry carousel of germs that makes its way around to each and every member. Sometimes the carousel moves quickly (hello, stomach viruses!), and other times it just creaks its way around.

While the slow creaking is easier on the clean-up factor, it also means that you feel like you have sick people lying around for three years by the time everyone has finally been infected.

This time around has been the slow, creaking kind of trip. There have been high fevers, horrible soupy coughs, and general malaise.

I was certain that the children had picked up something that could actually by treated by an antibiotic, but nope. Just a weird virus that sounds like rattling death, but cannot be treated by anything other than lots of Motrin, Vicks vapor rub, cool washcloths, and a teaspoon of honey for the coughing.

(Around here, the combo of honey and vapor rub really does knock out the coughs, except for the little babies who can't have honey yet. They only get the vapor rub.)

I guess we're on the upswing. Or maybe we're just going around for another ride -- I really can't tell yet. But we'll make it.

Besides, it is spring right? We're not just in some kind of weird holding pattern for winter? Promise me I'll be able to open the windows soon and clear out some of the funk.

10 Facts About Me and My Better Half

Instead of doing quick takes this week, I thought I'd join in with Betty Beguiles and share ten facts about Rob and yours truly.

One: I went to college with Rob's sister and we met when he came to visit her. We visited the historic sites in Gettysburg and ended up having an in depth conversation for the whole ride home. We haven't stopped talking since.

Two: Before I met Rob, I saw a picture of him in his sister's room and thought he was 35. He was really 21. In my defense, he was wearing his Navy uniform and he wasn't smiling. But typical of his personality, he still thinks it's funny.

Three: Rob and I got engaged when I was 19. I think I might go nuts if Francie came home engaged at 19, but my parents have loved Rob since day one. They've always been insightful people.

Four: Rob and I have amazingly similar personalities. I know they say opposites attract, but I guess we are the exception that proves the rule. Even when we disagree, we can usually do it calmly and sensibly. Unless you are talking about the proper way to load the dishwasher, then it's time to drop the gloves.

Five: Despite our similarities, we have just enough personality differences to keep us complementary. He is much calmer and laid back than I am, and even though I am technically an introvert I have enough spark to bring him out of his quiet shell.

Six: Rob is hilarious. Sometimes people are really surprised to hear that since he is so quiet, but his sense of humor is razor sharp. When we got married, my mother said to us, "Well, no matter what, you'll always have laughter." She was right -- I laugh every single day we are together.

Seven: I've never met anyone I can talk to as easily as Rob. Not even my closest girlfriends (and that's saying something, because I can really talk to my friends. A lot.) He's my very best friend.

Eight: Rob is an amazing father. I always knew he would be a good dad, but truth be told, neither one of us ever expected to have this many children in our family. Our hearts have changed together, and he has turned out to be a better father to our children than I could have imagined. I feel so blessed that my sons can look to him to know how a Christian man should act, and that my daughters can look to him to see how a good man treats the women he loves.

Nine: Rob is a much better Christian than I am, and he is specifically a much better Catholic Christian. He is unfailingly generous in everything, and I should know better than most people since I am usually on the receiving end of his generosity of spirit. I always hope to make him proud and happy that I am his wife.

Ten: We will celebrate our 14th anniversary on June 14th. It seems like yesterday and forever ago all at the same time.

Happy weekend, my friends!