Fall Stuff

I feel better! Finally, at 34 weeks of a gawd awful pregnancy, I can tell you with confidence that I actually feel okay! It's been, like, at least three weeks since I have thrown up, food looks and tastes good, and I can actually get myself out of bed each morning without the impending sense of doom that only months of nausea and vomiting can produce.

And I think I've discovered something about myself during this whole ordeal: food is really really really an important part of my life. Without the desire to cook and eat, I was lost! I know it might sound ridiculous, but I assure you that being excited about the dinner I've made is truly one of the highlights of my life. (Is that weird?)

So no more barfing means yes to cooking! And everything sounds good! And I'm pregnant, so live it up! I am now eating enough to make up for all of those months of saltines. Blech.

"My god, you're enormous!" my dad declared just the other day. He's a thoughtful one, that man. But it is the truth. I feel quite whaleish. It's all relative- I have never gotten super huge during my other pregnancies, but I am bigger now than I was when Sawyer was born.



Brent and I have some serious getting-our-shit-together to be done before this baby comes. Like rounding up all our baby stuff and narrowing down the list of names. Oh wait. I mean compiling a list of names. I'm finding the task of permanently saddling our girl with a moniker to be daunting. Suggestions?

We have, however, accomplished our biggest challenge in terms of this new baby readiness is concerned. I finally cut Sawyer's umbilical cord. His figurative umbilical cord, that is. I'm not proud of some of the shit I let that kid get away with this summer when I was deep in the throes of nausea and exhaustion. Suffice it to say, he was a three and a half year old in desperate need of a reality check.

First of all, there was the sleeping arrangement. (Again, not proud!) He had taken up residence in our bed, tunneling his way up into the middle every night without fail and then sucking his thumb loudly and flopping around like a beached octopus. For some reason I had mixed feelings about booting him out (my baby!) and I guess I must have secretly enjoyed snuggling with him in the mornings after Brent left for work. You know that weird guilt that you feel when you are about to have another baby and your youngest has no idea what is about to rock his world? I guess there was some of that going on, too.

 

But as my tummy grew (and grew and grew) and I started to get uncomfortable at night, I let those feelings of guilt be replaced by feelings of resentment. This was MY bed and MY sleep that we were talking about. And so we kicked him out. And damn, it felt good.

Then there was the carrying him business. I cannot be lugging around a three year old and this kid wants to be picked up all the time. And so I made him quit cold turkey. You can hold my hand, but you have to walk. I've probably said this a thousand times in the last few weeks. The parenting books don't tell you that, do they? Sometimes you have to do something A THOUSAND TIMES for it to sink it.

Also we've had to deal with the "I want Mom to do it" business that's super annoying especially when the task is unpleasant, such as bum wiping. Dad can wipe butts around here too, Sawyer. I think you're getting that message loud and clear.



So, are we ready? Hell no. Not even close. But we are always a work in progress in this family.

Fall update: Jack loves kindergarten. He got over the snack issue (thank you for all of the goldfish crackers!) and when I attended curriculum night last week, I saw why. And it's soccer season, so there go our social lives for the next few weeks.


 

 Sawyer is, predictably, having a harder adjustment to his new preschool. He says he has no friends and he's completely offended by having to hold onto a rope whenever the class crosses the parking lot to get to the playground. I got all excited the other day when he started telling Jack and me about his new friend from preschool. They played together, they ate lunch together, things were going so well! And then Jack asked Sawyer what his new friend's name was.

"Arthur," Sawyer replied.

"Arthur?" I repeated, just to make sure I'd heard him correctly. You don't meet too many three year old Arthurs these days.

"Yeah, he has glasses. And he's in a band."

"Wait a second, is he an aardvark?" Jack asked. "Are you talking about Arthur from PBS Kids?"

"Yes," Sawyer said matter-of-factly. "Arthur is my friend. He goes to my school."

So now he's a friendless liar. (But at least he stays in his own bed at night!)



I finally finished the deck chair covers, just in time for the rainy season. Now I'm moving onto the boys' Halloween costumes! Since my many food aversions kept me out of the kitchen until recently, Brent and I are making up for lost time with our annual food storage production. We pressed apples with our neighbor and canned a bunch of apple cider, canned pears, froze broccoli, and braved the pressure cooker for a big batch of tuna. There's still so much to be done...



And finally, what do you do when your sweet elderly neighbor swings endless bags of Asian pears over the fence for you? None of us really like them that much, and I see him over there spraying them with some toxic looking substance, so rather than let them rot, the boys have developed a bizarre use for all of this fruit.



I don't get it either. But I'll tell you this much, nobody's eating those pears now.

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