3 Days.

I'm going to be a mom of two in three days. 

I can't wait. 

Daisy and Dallas. 

It is going to be amazing. 

I went to my final OB appointment today and we made our plans for everything pre- and post- surgery, I'm so excited. 

I have gained a total of 22 pounds this pregnancy so I'm treating myself with hot chocolate and cold pizza for breakfast. Because in three days I will be on that fun stage of post-pregnancy, getting back to my pre- (pre-) baby weight. 

It is so much harder to plan a schedule around a c-section than I thought when you have a child (and a dog) and her school and activities....

My bags are packed and by the back door. Mini's weekend is in order. But still this week is busy, full of  appointments and last minute items that need to be taken care of. Because that's what you do when you're 42 weeks pregnant. 

67 hours till He's here.... not that I'm counting or anything. 

Thank you so much Krystal Shaw for capturing this special moment!

Grown UP.

I loathe Mondays. 

Monday is when I get Mini on the bus and I sit down to do the super exciting budget/bills/grocery list/menu planning and of course try to figure out all the house cleaning for the entire week. Which never goes as planned.

Today is especially ironic. 

I am sitting here having chocolate cake and paying bills. 

The true irony of adulthood.

The old adage, 'Have your cake and eat it too....' should really say, "Budget for your cake, make a grocery list for the items you need, bake at 350 for 30 minutes, let it cool, ice it, and then have an appropriate sized piece when ready to serve... but know this, since you're an adult... you still have the option to eat it when ever you want." 

Right now I am planning the last 11 dinners before my c-section. (Unless he comes early) so I am writing out the menu, the recipes, and making the grocery list. 11 days left out of the possible 42 weeks he has incubated. And then he will be here. He will be in my arms. His face, his movements, his coo's will forever be etched into my heart, my brain, my love. It is getting so real, and yet I still can't picture it at all.

I remember the first moment I heard Mini cry. A wave of fierce protectiveness came over me, and softness all at once. I remember thinking that no one could understand how much I loved her in that moment... and it still holds true. I can't even begin to imagine loving another person in that way without my heart exploding, but I know it's going to happen. And it is going to be amazing. 

I finished my cake. I may have grabbed two more bites from the pan. With a clean fork of course. Because trying to budget this month is making my hair fall out. As an adult you immediately understand why. Don't you?

I am going to go back to being a grown up right now.... breathing through 'subtle' contractions... crying softly to myself.... maybe making myself a second cup of hot chocolate... and finishing my menu...

Because I'm a grown up. 

Love.

Throw Back Thursday.

My morning has been ruined.... It's 7 am and I bought low fat Pop-tarts. They are the worst. I don't even know how they can claim to be a Pop-tart. I lost a pound yesterday (though swollen beyond recognition from the chili I ate.... A LOT OF....) so I thought I would indulge in a Pop-tart. False.

Anyway.

Last week I was in the hospital. It was awful. My blood pressure was too high, I was shaking, and contracting..... It was really scary. Mr. Man almost came early. But they were able to get it under control and I came home on Thursday night last week. Now I get to see my Doctor every three days till Mr. decides to come.... or 42 weeks.... whichever comes first (Dallas, make this happen)

Saturday the dog got hurt. It was an 'accident' but I still blame myself. She's fine but we took her to the animal ER. It was scary. 

It was just not the finest week. This week was better though..... Any part not dealing with grownup life stuff.... as 38 weeks pregnant.  So yesterday was the highlight of the past week or so of craziness... yesterday I got to take awesome Maternity pictures with my friend of 7 years... who took my first preggo pictures 7 years ago when I was pregnant with Mini... at the same location.... before she ever knew she wanted to be a photographer! How crazy is that? As I imagined they are awesome. I look like a beached whale, but at a day shy of 39 weeks.... who doesn't? I mean there are men out there that look like they've been past due for the past 20 years.... so I feel pretty good about myself at this point. Especially after seeing Krystal Shaw's work (click here to find her site!). 

I swore I wouldn't do bare bump pictures... but then it happened :)

I can't believe next time I will be holding two babyloves.

All in all, life is happening, one step at a time... and I am just rolling with it. Crappy Pop-tarts and all.

There is no Such Thing as an Inactive Addict.

I don't believe in the inactive addict. Even if they are not using, their brain still functions as an addict... but I want to know more.

Once again I am researching and reading about drug addiction. I feel like it is something that I always come back to... wanting to understand more so I know how to handle addicts more, because once an addict... always an addict. Though they may not abuse drugs they still have the personality and character traits of an addict. 

Every time I research I am reassured, I love being educated. And no matter where I go lately I find that this is something that I am faced with. 

Today I read about the addicts tool belt. No matter if they are 'active' or not, they fall back on certain traits when they are overwhelmed or feel as though they cannot cope with what is going on around them. I have found these traits to all be true when dealing with addicts, no matter their addiction.... 

Addicts try to rationalize what they are doing to cope with life. They focus on deception, if no one asks what they are doing, they aren't really 'lying'. Little do they know or can comprehend, they are lying, they are lying to themselves and those that love them, they are deceiving their loved ones by breaking promises... they are lying to themselves by convincing themselves it's 'ok' to slip up just once... and this leads into the third trait... justification. This one I have witnessed so many times. They try to justify what they are taking, many times I've heard, "Well, this drug isn't as addictive as what I used to take... so it's okay." 

If you have to sneak it.... it's wrong. If you have to do any of these things (coping traits) to make what you are doing feel okay, it's wrong. But to an addict, I feel sometimes they lie so much to themselves that they don't know right and wrong anymore. 

Loving someone like this is just devastating. Because how do you know what else they are lying about? This is something that I am still researching. I feel like it is a different struggle for each loved one, whether a spouse, a parent, a sibling, etc. How do you love past the pain of knowing their limitations. 

In the mean time, knowledge is power and so is unconditional love. And you can always give love. That will never hurt you.

~

“Over time, hidden truths morph in the dark soil of deceit into something much worse.” 

― Patti Callahan Henry

Sunday Morning.

It's almost ten and we have had the perfect Sunday morning.

I've needed this for a while.

I'm content.

Gisele (The Pom) and I are sitting in the dinning room drinking coffee (chewing on a bone) surrounded by Pinterest and a Sephora bag full of goodies to help me get ready for church (we're trying a new one, I think the whole family is glad it doesn't start till 10:45.... we are not early risers on Sunday).

I've gotten to the point in pregnancy that my feet are the size of footballs. I accept this. There's really nothing I can do, I'm like a walking memory foam bed. I have started to refer to myself in third person as, 'THE TANK."

Now Gisele is cleaning the kitchen floor... she's so sweet like that.

Mr. S is power washing the deck... Mini is wandering the back yard.... barefoot and rocking some colorful Hello Kitty Pjs. This time last year we would have definitely not let her wander but I love that we live in the country now, she's pretty free to do whatever she wants. It reminds me of living on the farm when I was a kid. We don't have a farm but it's closer than not.

Mini educated Mr. S on 'My Little Pony' history this morning while he made breakfast.... and before that they played and fed our pet frogs.

Typing all that out and actually thinking about it all cracks me up.... we are very, eclectic.

I feel like our children will either be very sure of themselves or very unclear about life when they become adults.

You live in the country and you're being raised by two people who love fashion (and appreciate man material items) but also love hunting/the outdoors.... and you have pets that range from dog to snake to frogs (and soon chickens and a pygmy goat... Mr. S said no... but he'll change his mind ;)) and we live close enough to Chicago and bigger cities that you really never are stuck 'in the country'. I don't know what that makes our kids.... hopefully they will love it.

I want them to always feel free to get dirty, but clean up nice when they need too. I want them to remember their summers outside. NOT in front of a TV. I want them to use their imagination (I feel like that is being sucked away from kids these days) and I believe that at least out here, with a big yard, and weird entertaining animals and a quiet surrounding they will have the ability to do all that.

I should probably go get ready... but I just had to sit and stop and think for a bit. How different our lives are in just this past year.... and how crazy different they will be by next year. Who know's... maybe I can con Mr. S into a lamb or two.... or maybe a llama? A girl can dream ;)

Talk into my Good Ear.

I am a hot mess.

No really, just a gross mess right now. 

I have a sinus infection. Chest congestion. 'moderate to severe asthma' and a MASSIVE ear infection (I've never had an ear infection... ouch)

So I went to the Dr. and she said that I could probably use over the counter drops for it if I would like and then if that didn't work she would prescribe something.... 

The drops didn't work.

Last night I had warm olive oil Q tips in my ear (Google is going to be the death of me) while eating chicken noodle.... out of a can :( and half trying to hear the TV. 

I am a hot mess.

Stupidly this morning I tried to do it again, got distracted and ended up jamming the Q-tip in my ear. I'm exhausted. It happens. 

So I'm probably going to bleed internally from a ruptured ear drum.

I'm sure that is a logical reaction... right? 

NOW....

As I wait for a call back from my Dr. I officially cannot hear anything... any more... probably ever again.... out of my right ear.

I am looking into getting a hearing ear dog.

It sounds like an ocean with a heart beat constantly....

I am having glimpses of the Shining running through my head...

"All sickness and no hearing make Bethanie a dull boy."

This is my morning.

This, today, is my struggle.

What's the big Deal?

Over the past (almost) year I've been a pretty bad friend. 

A crappy friend. 

I noticed this not to long ago, while crying over a box of Thin Mints. 

No, not hormonal crying. Sad crying. I had just had a heart wrenching conversation with my daughter....

(We have decided to postpone telling her about my brother's passing, no... I don't care what you think. This is our process)

"Mom, what's so great about having a little brother? Do you like having one?"

My stomach dropped. 

In this moment I was mid-text to someone about to make plans to do something and I knew I was not going to make it after the conversation I was going to have to choke back tears through.....

"He will drive you nuts, but he will also be your best friend, he will stand by you no matter what, and at the end of the day when you grow up and are best friends in your teens and adulthood.... he will be the only person that knows sometimes there is nothing left to say after a crappy day.... sometimes after a crappy day you just need a Carmelo and a hug.... and someone to re-watch a Wes Anderson movie with you for the 1000th time. (Okay usually two Carmelo's)."

She looked at me confused.... I knew she wouldn't understand yet. But someday she will.

"Oh. But he's going to steal my toys... and be annoying."

"Yep, he will. But it'll be okay. That's his job. Just think he'll have toys you will probably steal too."

"That's true. Okay I'm going to play with Gisele and watch some My Little Pony."

After she left the room I crumbled a little. Because of everything. And it happens so much. More than I like to acknowledge. Because when I am around people that I love, that I'm friends with and they have that 'sibling' still that is their best friend... I get jealous. I get sad. I get..... overwhelmed. And then I pray they never have to watch a weird movie by themselves.... while being afraid to buy their favorite candy bar... just because it might, just might, hurt so much they'll implode. 

I'm sure it all seems so simple. So dramatic to an, 'outsider'. I hate looking at myself sometimes because I'm embarrassed at what all hurts still. All the simple little things. But they can wreck my day. My week. In the blink of an eye. And I admit I have no control yet over it. Will I ever? Who knows. 

I know it'll get better. Hopefully. And I'm sorry. 

And as the moment gets closer to when Mini will have that little 'bother', I pray she thinks he is as awesome as I know he will be. They could have everything and more if they get passed the 'annoyances' and just embrace being buddies. 

I hate he will never get to begrudgingly hold his nephew.... I can't believe this was almost 7 years ago.