hope

I hope this baby is born healthy and free of complications, and enters this world and is placed into my waiting arms as quickly as possible.

I hope that the issues that visited us while I carried Jack are not brought to us again. And even if they are, I hope that this baby thrives in spite of them, just as Jack has done.

I hope this time my children will not have to wait a week to meet their new sibling. I hope that we will get to take in this new little life as a family, together, each one of us touching, loving, and cradling this sweet baby into our lives, and near to our hearts.

I hope that the timing of this child's entry into the world is more his or hers than it is my OB teams. 

I hope, oh how I hope, that I forever remember the delicate feeling of little kicks and squirms and wiggles inside my body. I hope that I remember the feeling of being so incredibly attached to this child before I know his or her face, know his or her heart. I hope that my mind bottles up each one of these special pregnancy joys, so I can always know the wonder and love that filled these times of my life. 

I hope that this c-section is event free, and my recovery is swift. 

And if I am being greedy, I hope that God grants me the energy and the stamina to keep u with my brood and give my best to each of my children. 

And if I were to be really, really greedy, I hope that this child latches and nurses, gains nourishment from me, without the aid of a pump. Oh, that would be great!

Hope. Hope. Hope. 

Hope is such a beautiful thing, really. Because in our hearts we know that things do go in different directions, directions that lead to paths we wished not to walk. Somehow, though, that does not spoil our hope, it does not lessen the faith we have that things will lead us to where our heart desires. 

Hope is wonderful. 

Hope is amazing.

Hope really is beautiful.

And, come to think of it, it also would make a lovely baby name. 

My name is Shannon, and I'm in Group One

Let me preface this with saying, unless you are bored, you probably don't want to read this bad boy. But that's the beauty of blogs. They give the writer a place to put onto paper (or onto computer screen) the thoughts that are bubbling up in their heads. So here I go.

You know what drives me bonkers? You don't? Okay, I'll tell you. What drives me bonkers is when you are merging onto a road and the car behind you, rather than wait their turn and merge in BEHIND you, guns it, and shoots out and goes around you, forcing you to hit your brakes and wait for them to completely clear you, so you can then merge in behind them. Oh, that ticks me off.

It's like, are they in such a hurry that one car length is really going to make or break them? Mind you, I am not a slow driver. (If my sister or husband are reading this, I know their thought bubble reads 'yeah, you think?') So, why the need to cut around me? Can't they just fall in behind? You know those drivers were the same kids in 2nd grade who constantly cut in line without so much as giving it a backwards glance. You know the ones. I am going to venture that no one called them out in 2nd grade, thus, the cutting continues. Oh, the audacity !

And since you brought it up (hehe), it chaps my hide when people know something and refuse to act accordingly. On my way home from picking Kaiti up from school, there is a road I have to turn left on, to enter the highway. There are 2 left-turn lanes. Once you turn, the right lane has to IMMEDIATELY merge with the left lane. IMMEDIATELY. So there is really no sense in the right lane's existence.

People who travel this route know this. They know it well. And the majority of people only line up in the left lane. These people are like me. The knowers, the ones that follow the unspoken rule. But then there are the people who get in the right lane, KNOWING it has to merge immediately. And trust me, they know.  I can see it in the narrowing of their eyes before the light turns green, in the way they ferociously grip the steering wheel, prepared to battle it out around the turn. I know they know.

And if their pre-green light behavior was not enough to give them away, the way they burn rubber and put the full weight of their body on their gas pedal once the light turns green says it all. And let me tell you, there are plenty of times I have seen near accidents because the merge of the two lanes into one, around a curve, no less, is so sudden, so quick, that it causes people to slam on brakes or hug the edge of the road to avoid a collision. Again, pretty poor road planing, if you ask me.

On several occasions, my somewhat-deviated sense of enforcing right and wrong has almost caused me to get in the right lane so I could creep around the turn at 2 mph once the light turns green, to teach all the people behind me a little lesson about proper lane merging. I've never actually done it,but I kinda enjoy thinking about when I am at that red light. Oops. Maybe I shouldn't have shared that part.

Okay, so the purpose of this was not to illustrate my crazy. I know, too late.

The thing is, I tend to place people into 3 groups. Group One: the stringent rule followers, ardently falling in accordingly. Group Two: the placid rule knowers, but could care less-ers, very blase about Group One's passion, or Group Three's disregard. And Group Three: The rule-disregarders- the people who are well aware but could care less and only apply rules as they see fit.

I know, this is pretty weighty for a simple merging of lanes. That's me. I take the simple and make it complex. I take a teenie piece of behavior and apply it to the grand scale of human existence.

Well, not really. At least not all the time. This little diatribe is one part thought, one part humor, and one part me having too much time to think on my drive home.

In case you didn't guess already, I tend to fall in Group One. The annoying group that thinks if we all just fell in and did right, life would be easier, simpler, and free of chaos.

And today I found out, I passed that Group One gene onto my eldest son. It was very eye-opening.

I went to have lunch with my kindergartner today at school, and I was having such a great time with him. Even though I had Jack with me, it was nice to be with Tyler, amongst his friends and hear the conversations. I've done this before, and I always walk away with a smile, a little more knowledgeable about the type of person my son is. (I know my son, but when children are around people in different environments, they can be slightly different than the person they are at home.)

So today, after some meaningful discussions about 'smell' of meatloaf, a lecture about what constitutes a quiet voice (it was me receiving the lecture), and a brainstorming of possible names for #4 (one little girl suggested Ocean, and I kinda like it- don't worry- my husband will veto it before I get to the second syllable), it was time to walk back to the classroom. They call the walk 'lips and hips'. One hand on the hip-- it's pretty sassy, actually- and one finger on the lips-- reminding them to button it. Or zip it, whatever floats your boat.

As we were walking, lips-and-hip-style, this one little girl was talking to me. She was asking me to take her to the library, asking me if I had seen Ghostbusters, and if so, was I scared. She kept talking up a storm, when my son, who was directly behind her, tapped her on the shoulder. As the poor chatty girl turned around, Tyler took the finger that was on his lips and very forcefully looked at her with a seriousness that rivaled, I don't know, someone REALLY serious, and jabbed his pointer finger against his lips two times. He was telling her to shut it.

(since tyler is still at school, I let his little sister give a demo)


I didn't correct him or tell him that he should leave the supervising to the teachers, because, like I said, I am a rule follower, and I had one finger on my lips. (The other was not on my hip, as much as I would have liked it to be, because I had to push Jack's stroller.) And anyway, I kinda was thinking the same thing, and the only thing that stopped me from tapping my finger on my lips to remind her to hush it was the fact that I am not her teacher, nor her mother, nor a kindergartner who could get away with such a reminder.

The little girl rolled her eyes at my son. But she shut it. So, as an outsider looking in, I see what our Group One means to those in other Groups. Our reminders may work, but to those in different groups, they are also quite annoying.

Needless to say, I don't think this girl will want Tyler as her BFF. It's probably for the best anyways....Tyler already has one lady in his life who cannot keep her mouth shut. 


Guess who?

NOT ME!! Monday

Time to share all the things we have NOT done this week. Feel free to join in on the fun!

While whipping up 2 separate dinners- one for the kids, and one for me- my sweet 6-year-old son did NOT yell out, ‘Mom, why is Jack eating a stick of butter?’ And upon hearing such a thing, I certainly would NOT have asked Tyler to remove the butter from his little brother’s hands and get a baby wipe to clean up the mess. I would NEVER ask my son to do my job! And while older son was cleaning off younger son, I certainly was NOT thinking in my head, ‘I was wondering where that stick of butter went…..at least I am NOT losing my mind.’

About a week ago, my husband was getting the kids dressed in the morning to go get some breakfast. As I walked out of my room, I did NOT bust out laughing at the sight of my sweet daughter, wearing her little brother’s khaki pants. My husband handed them to Kaiti, who obligingly put them on. So, my tall, thin size-5 wearing daughter did NOT turn her little brother’s 2T khaki pants into some very interesting Bermuda shorts. But hey, the waist fit her perfectly!

I certainly did NOT do a joyous happy dance when I heard back from my OB that I don’t have (really, I don’t have) gestational diabetes. I had been trying to follow the heart association’s food guide, but was still really worried about getting GD—which would mean no smoothies for the duration of the pregnancy. Oh, the travesty of being pregnant without drinking a nice, thick strawberry-orange-banana smoothie!!

Oh, and let me share with you the letter we received from Tyler’s school. It roughly stated that my son had been tardy for 4 days over the past 45 school days, and if he was late one more time, my husband and I would be forced to attend a meeting instructing us about the effects of tardiness and how the Duval County School Board does not stand for such things. I was so ticked after reading the letter, but I certainly DID NOT draft my own letter up that went something like this..

   ‘Dear School People, I appreciate you taking a concern in my sons attendance and wanting him to receive the most out of his classroom environment- despite the fact you saw fit to move him to another classroom not even 50 days into the school year. I can assure you, we strive to get Tyler to school every morning, but my morning sickness sometimes means we are 5 minutes late. As much as I have explained to the hormones raging through my body that vomit is no excuse for being late, I still find myself hugging the toilet 4 mornings a week. I will discuss it with my hormones again, and I apologize deeply if my son walking in 4 minutes late is such a disruption. I assure you, I am doing my best to conquer the morning sickness, but as my doctor’s have told me, when it comes to pregnancy and sickness, it is really out of my hands. Rest assured, I am told it will go away sometime before this child is born. Thanks again for your concern. Kindly, Shannon N.’

Finally, when the phone rang this morning a little after 4am, after swallowing a lump in my throat as big as Texas (who calls with GOOD news at 4am?) I was NOT incredibly relieved to find out it was only our city’s storm warning system, warning us of a tornado warning in our area. And I was NOT kinda-sorta hoping that the wind would knock out our power so I might have a more ‘valid’ excuse, you know, just in case we did not make it out the door on time. So, I give you my word, I did NOT stick out my bottom lip when I heard Jack calling me from his crib this morning, only to open my eyes and see that, much to chagrin, our lights were on which meant we did not lose power. Bummer.

a wild week

To sum it up, my husband worked on Saturday, Sunday, and Monday, which was, you know, a national - and federally recognized - holiday. 

Then there was the state exam I took. You need a 75 to pass.....guess what I got. A 74! A SEVENTY-STINKIN-FOUR!! I did not have the study time I had hoped for (see first sentence), but still, I was pretty down about it.

And then on Thursday, Jack had a freaky medical scare. He is all good now, but I was pretty freaked and we rushed him to the ER after his pediatrician asked me if we would like an EMT transport. All is okay- he has an intestinal infection, poor thing, but gave us quite the scare. 

So I am definitely ready to being a new week. But the past 7 days were not totally lost.

it finally warmed up enough to go to the zoo

parker and tyler checking out some elephants...or being star wars character. not sure which.

finley and kaiti wishing away

3 little monkeys laying on the bed

Jack pulled a slice of cheesecake OUT OF THE TRASHCAN

and Jeremiah caught him shoving it into his mouth!!

wonder what she's cookin' up in that pretty little head of hers

and this boy builds. and builds. and BUILDS.

I wonder what the next week will bring.....