Binkytowne

Like a bird

In the 2:30 darkness my little man called for me. I rolled out, padded down the hall, adjusted his kicked around blankets and laid down next to him. I barely roused at all. Neither did he.

At sometime around 4 I heard the birds chirping and saw the first light of dawn was starting to peek through the clouds. No matter how many times I tried to will myself back to sleep, reminding myself that I really, really needed to sleep right now I just couldn't. It was so peaceful. I just wanted to be.

I've been running at breakneck speed. Work commitments, putting the house back together, general three year-old-tending-to and the exhausting list I have compiled in my mind of everything I need to have in place: For example, are there clean sheets for the in-laws? Do I have enough hair conditioner? Will anyone know that little man's favorite "Music Show" is Classical Baby on HBO and that the star song is the one with the cow if I'm not here to explain? 

This last minute surge of pregnancy energy has been amazing. I don't think I really accepted "nesting" as a biological reality until now. The only down side is that this incredible burst of activity makes it hard to wind down and quiet the mind and drink in these final moments of being a family of three.

Which is why as the sky filled with light, I studied my little mans face and the wild tuft of hair standing up straight from falling asleep fresh from the bath. I tried not to speculate if this would be the last time for a long time that I had the luxury of doing so. I listened to him breathing as the cardinals sang and the chorus outside the window grew louder.

I'm hopeful that in the coming days when I am up before dawn and my nest is complete and there is one more voice in the house that I will be filled with the same tranquility I felt this morning.

I probably won't be, but I securely tucked away the knowledge that I will be again.

  

  

Beach, meet my backyard.

I actually live near a beach. The only thing, it's not a beach where you want to swim. Sad but true.

So when the temperatures were soaring this past weekend, it seemed like the perfect time to set up the Sand & Water Cart from Step Two, the new raised sandbox and water table, offering elevated play and the perfect antidote for a hot afternoon.

Read more about our backyard beach fun and Step Two's Whisper Ride Buggy at The Full Mommy!

Like a bird

In the 2:30 darkness my little man called for me. I rolled out, padded down the hall, adjusted his kicked around blankets and laid down next to him. I barely roused at all. Neither did he.

At sometime around 4 I heard the birds chirping and saw the first light of dawn was starting to peek through the clouds. No matter how many times I tried to will myself back to sleep, reminding myself that I really, really needed to sleep right now I just couldn't. It was so peaceful. I just wanted to be.

I've been running at breakneck speed. Work commitments, putting the house back together, general three year-old-tending-to and the exhausting list I have compiled in my mind of everything I need to have in place: For example, are there clean sheets for the in-laws? Do I have enough hair conditioner? Will anyone know that little man's favorite "Music Show" is Classical Baby on HBO and that the star song is the one with the cow if I'm not here to explain? 

This last minute surge of pregnancy energy has been amazing. I don't think I really accepted "nesting" as a biological reality until now. The only down side is that this incredible burst of activity makes it hard to wind down and quiet the mind and drink in these final moments of being a family of three.

Which is why as the sky filled with light, I studied my little mans face and the wild tuft of hair standing up straight from falling asleep fresh from the bath. I tried not to speculate if this would be the last time for a long time that I had the luxury of doing so. I listened to him breathing as the cardinals sang and the chorus outside the window grew louder.

I'm hopeful that in the coming days when I am up before dawn and my nest is complete and there is one more voice in the house that I will be filled with the same tranquility I felt this morning.

I probably won't be, but I securely tucked away the knowledge that I will be again.

  

  

Beach, meet my backyard.

I actually live near a beach. The only thing, it's not a beach where you want to swim. Sad but true.

So when the temperatures were soaring this past weekend, it seemed like the perfect time to set up the Sand & Water Cart from Step Two, the new raised sandbox and water table, offering elevated play and the perfect antidote for a hot afternoon.

Read more about our backyard beach fun and Step Two's Whisper Ride Buggy at The Full Mommy!

I wish I were making this up

My late third trimester snoring has become so atrocious that not only do I wake myself up every night but this morning my husband produced these, which he kept beside the bed in the event that I woke him up - again:

Yes. While I am at it, let me remind you that remodeling in the ninth month of pregnancy is not for the faint of heart. They were beside this bed: Yes, that is a navy blue sheet over the window. Just like you would do in college when you couldn't afford a shade.

 

Although some people seem to think this is quite a lot of fun:

I do not. This is me dismantling my closet and saying Don't you dare take my picture.. I MEAN IT.

But behold! Two rooms down, two to go. Brand new windows, new closets (with shelves!) and freshly painted walls.

Before:

After: (JC Licht Light Khaki, my favorite new color evah).

Here's hoping the rest turns out as nicely as this. 

Soon.

  

 

I wish I were making this up

My late third trimester snoring has become so atrocious that not only do I wake myself up every night but this morning my husband produced these, which he kept beside the bed in the event that I woke him up - again:

Yes. While I am at it, let me remind you that remodeling in the ninth month of pregnancy is not for the faint of heart. They were beside this bed: Yes, that is a navy blue sheet over the window. Just like you would do in college when you couldn't afford a shade.

 

Although some people seem to think this is quite a lot of fun:

I do not. This is me dismantling my closet and saying Don't you dare take my picture.. I MEAN IT.

But behold! Two rooms down, two to go. Brand new windows, new closets (with shelves!) and freshly painted walls.

Before:

After: (JC Licht Light Khaki, my favorite new color evah).

Here's hoping the rest turns out as nicely as this. 

Soon.

  

 

FINE. I hear you.

The universe is trying to tell me something. At least that's what I'm telling myself because that's what makes me feel better.

First my much trusted OB goes out on maternity leave. Then my new OB decides to plan a two week vacation around my due date. She tries to talk me into a C Section at 39 weeks. I cry. She says we'll talk again next time.

Then I make a plan: If I go into labor within a week of my due date I'll push, if not I'll schedule the C rather than face an induction. I call the nurse, ask her to run it by the doctor so I can make up my mind. She calls back- it all sounds fine. Yet when I saw the new OB last week I found out it was all a badly played game of post office. What I asked and what she heard were two different things. She says to answer your question, yes, we can schedule the C Section with a different doctor while I am out of town. I say that's not what I asked. She appears confused. I cry. She says we'll talk more next week. At home I cry the ugly cry. Never pretty, but even less so at my size wrapped in a big blue fleece robe pulled tight around me for security, but making me look like a gigantic weeping blueberry.

I see her this week. She checks me, I'm one centimeter dilated but she can't find the head. We do an ultrasound to make sure he hasn't flipped. Nope. He's head down but not in the pelvis. Oh my pesky problematic pelvis. She gives me a look. I ask if I schedule a C Section for later but go into labor next week can I reserve the right to try and push him out? She says yes, if she is in town. If she is gone, however, it wouldn't be prudent for a new doctor I don't have a relationship with to take on that kind of risk and the C Section would be a foregone conclusion. That gives me until the 24th of this month to have a chance.  

I try and remind myself that I have never ever looked at my son and contemplated how he was born. I've reflected on it, many times, but never when I've tousled that wild head of hair or stared back at angry time out eyes.  

As I was leaving I saw my much trusted OB in the waiting room, the one who left me at 35 weeks to go on bed rest because she lost her last at 25 weeks. I stopped to ask how she was feeling. So far everything was good she said. She asked about me? Everything is fine, I said. That is very good, she said, in her manner of fact way with the emphasis on very. 

In the car I let that sink in for a minute.

Yes Universe, I am listening. She is right.

FINE. I hear you.

The universe is trying to tell me something. At least that's what I'm telling myself because that's what makes me feel better.

First my much trusted OB goes out on maternity leave. Then my new OB decides to plan a two week vacation around my due date. She tries to talk me into a C Section at 39 weeks. I cry. She says we'll talk again next time.

Then I make a plan: If I go into labor within a week of my due date I'll push, if not I'll schedule the C rather than face an induction. I call the nurse, ask her to run it by the doctor so I can make up my mind. She calls back- it all sounds fine. Yet when I saw the new OB last week I found out it was all a badly played game of post office. What I asked and what she heard were two different things. She says to answer your question, yes, we can schedule the C Section with a different doctor while I am out of town. I say that's not what I asked. She appears confused. I cry. She says we'll talk more next week. At home I cry the ugly cry. Never pretty, but even less so at my size wrapped in a big blue fleece robe pulled tight around me for security, but making me look like a gigantic weeping blueberry.

I see her this week. She checks me, I'm one centimeter dilated but she can't find the head. We do an ultrasound to make sure he hasn't flipped. Nope. He's head down but not in the pelvis. Oh my pesky problematic pelvis. She gives me a look. I ask if I schedule a C Section for later but go into labor next week can I reserve the right to try and push him out? She says yes, if she is in town. If she is gone, however, it wouldn't be prudent for a new doctor I don't have a relationship with to take on that kind of risk and the C Section would be a foregone conclusion. That gives me until the 24th of this month to have a chance.  

I try and remind myself that I have never ever looked at my son and contemplated how he was born. I've reflected on it, many times, but never when I've tousled that wild head of hair or stared back at angry time out eyes.  

As I was leaving I saw my much trusted OB in the waiting room, the one who left me at 35 weeks to go on bed rest because she lost her last at 25 weeks. I stopped to ask how she was feeling. So far everything was good she said. She asked about me? Everything is fine, I said. That is very good, she said, in her manner of fact way with the emphasis on very. 

In the car I let that sink in for a minute.

Yes Universe, I am listening. She is right.

Pregnant..............Pause

You know how you can be watching a movie, snacks in one hand, remote in the other and for whatever reason you decide you need to fast forward (maybe it's because this is the second time you are trying to watch Sweeney Todd and Helena Bonham Carter is freaking you out and can't sing a lick and why on earth did people say they liked this movie?) so you grab the remote and OOPS you pause it. Wrong button. You press play and then OOPS you automatically hit the fast forward x2 and everything starts to move in hyper-warp speed.

Yeah, someone hit the pause button.

I'm sitting here, less than three weeks from my due date and I can see it coming- THE BIG CHANGE. It's on the horizon, just over the ledge, on the next page, the next frame forward-etc. I'm almost there and I know any minute someone is going to come along and hit that other button and BAM I'm going to skyrocketing quicker than a ray of light into my soon-to-be-future.

I'm gigantic and I'm sore from my middle down pretty much all day every day and shaving my legs is now completely out of the question but I'm not begging to be released from the vice grip of pregnancy. I think I'm really going to miss it this time when it's gone. I'm used to the elbow jabs where my stomach should be. I love it that I wake up and think where's the baby before I even question what day of the week I'm on, only to be reminded that he's here or there when I feel a shift or a flutter and I close my eyes again for a minute, my hand on my belly.  

I'm watching my son, puttering around my house as usual, making dinner, cleaning up, going to bed, getting up, doing it all over again and it seems surreal to me that in a few short weeks there will be another family member in the house, I will be at home all day, everyone's routines will come to a grinding halt and the life I have today will be out the window. I'm really pretty oblivious to it and not at all desperate for it to arrive.

I'm anxious to meet this boy child but after so many days and weeks and months of waiting and counting down I'm thinking- would it be so bad to have another month? I could go another month..but I know my days are numbered. I'm going to hide that remote deep in a couch cushion.

Just try and find it. 

Pregnant..............Pause

You know how you can be watching a movie, snacks in one hand, remote in the other and for whatever reason you decide you need to fast forward (maybe it's because this is the second time you are trying to watch Sweeney Todd and Helena Bonham Carter is freaking you out and can't sing a lick and why on earth did people say they liked this movie?) so you grab the remote and OOPS you pause it. Wrong button. You press play and then OOPS you automatically hit the fast forward x2 and everything starts to move in hyper-warp speed.

Yeah, someone hit the pause button.

I'm sitting here, less than three weeks from my due date and I can see it coming- THE BIG CHANGE. It's on the horizon, just over the ledge, on the next page, the next frame forward-etc. I'm almost there and I know any minute someone is going to come along and hit that other button and BAM I'm going to skyrocketing quicker than a ray of light into my soon-to-be-future.

I'm gigantic and I'm sore from my middle down pretty much all day every day and shaving my legs is now completely out of the question but I'm not begging to be released from the vice grip of pregnancy. I think I'm really going to miss it this time when it's gone. I'm used to the elbow jabs where my stomach should be. I love it that I wake up and think where's the baby before I even question what day of the week I'm on, only to be reminded that he's here or there when I feel a shift or a flutter and I close my eyes again for a minute, my hand on my belly.  

I'm watching my son, puttering around my house as usual, making dinner, cleaning up, going to bed, getting up, doing it all over again and it seems surreal to me that in a few short weeks there will be another family member in the house, I will be at home all day, everyone's routines will come to a grinding halt and the life I have today will be out the window. I'm really pretty oblivious to it and not at all desperate for it to arrive.

I'm anxious to meet this boy child but after so many days and weeks and months of waiting and counting down I'm thinking- would it be so bad to have another month? I could go another month..but I know my days are numbered. I'm going to hide that remote deep in a couch cushion.

Just try and find it.