And I'm done...

I am done with this pregnancy.  I am done with feeling huge, having my hips ache, bracing myself (physically and mentally) to get up and down, and just done.

I know you are probably thinking I should quit my whining.  I'm almost to the end of the road.  I just need to suck it up and put on a happy face until birth.

No.  Nope. Nada.

Any woman who has been pregnant can tell you it is not all sunshine daisies and roses at the end.  It's just not.

I'm running around after 3 other children.  None of my clothes are comfortable any more, not even my maternity stuff.  I would rather just walk around in yoga pants, workout gear, and my husband's shirts because that's really the only thing I'm comfortable wearing.  Which I do when no one else will see me.

Sitting down is great until I have to get up.  It takes the effort of lifting the Titanic in order to get up from a chair, and a lot of the times I'm having to sit on the ground to play with the kids.  My hips ache if I sit too long; my hips ache if I stand too long.

I bruised my ribs from a combination of sneezing, the stomach bug, and Cassidy constantly kicking me.  It hurts to pull, push, lift, and basically do anything that moves the section around my ribs and rib cage.  Sleeping on them is nearly impossible.  And yet, I have to pick up Sawyer several times throughout the day, climb in and out of the car, and play tee ball with Jackson and Cullen.

I've kept up with exercising 3 days a week throughout my entire pregnancy, but even that is getting harder and harder to do.  And it's always funny, the looks I get at the gym.  Some people look at me as though I'm nuts for working out.  While others stare, ready for me to push the baby out at any moment.

I'm almost to the end, but still not close enough.  Cassidy is snug inside at 35 weeks and continues to grow.  I'm all belly as the doctor says.  In a few weeks, my only little girl will be here with her three older brothers.  These last few weeks should prove to be an interesting combination of me still trying to perform all my motherly duties and being dead tired on my feet.

Almost there... almost there... almost there.

The Joy of Boys

About a week ago, our family made the drive down to Houston for a funeral.  A family member died, and we went to pay our respects.  All five of us hopped in the car at 8am to make it down right in the nick of time for funeral and graveside service.  It was beautiful and truly celebrated life.

Afterwards, Andrew and I took the boys to get some much needed food and burn off all the extra energy.  Seeing as we wouldn't allow them to run around the cemetery or jump on the inlaid gravestones, they were itching to play.

We, eventually, made it to my cousin's house for the gathering of family and friends.  A bunch of family was there.  My aunt and uncle had flown in from Florida to attend the funeral.  We haven't seen them since the kids were born, so it was nice to be able to catch up.

As the adults were talking, my boys decided to run around in the backyard with their toys.  Fine by me.  Run, play, burn all the pent up energy you have.  You have my blessings.  As the boys are getting their nice dress shirts soaked in the bird bathe, my aunt and uncle started telling me some of the shenanigans their 3 sons (my cousins) got into when they were younger.  Laughter was abound.

After awhile, Andrew and I said our goodbyes, gathered up our wet children (who thought they were sneaky grabbing fruit and cheese off the food trays), and headed home.

I've been thinking about my boys and the trouble they get into, the fights they pick with one another, and scenarios I never thought I would be apart.

I never knew anything and everything could be made into some sort of weapon.

I never knew I would have to explain not to touch your 'big penis' and it will go down.  Nor did I think I would be privy to fact my children like to show me when they have one.

Wrestling is a sport performed any and every where.  Dad included.

Dirt and digging will always be a favorite past time.

Taking their shirts off or getting naked is no problem, except at bath time (go figure), even when it is 20 degrees outside.

Playing good guys and bad guys never gets old.  Along with fighting bad guys, arguing who is the bad guy, and having Mom yell she's going to assign the bad guy if the bickering doesn't stop.

Eating is a favorite pastime, and I can never have enough of anything in the house.

Sitting and beating up the youngest (even if he is only 15 months old!) is another favorite pastime.

Watching sports for hours on end is learned very early on and requested at times.

The announcements of toots and burps is quite prevalent.

At an early age, their rooms start to smell like dirt and stinky boy.

Even with all of these things, the joy of boys is not lost on me.  I get hugs and kisses still.  I get told at least a dozen times a day 'I'm a girl.'  And when little hands land on my very pregnant belly, it still makes me smile.  They are kind and caring.  My boys still love to snuggle with me on the couch, even when I'm slightly opposed to it with my large belly right now.

They are sweet and caring in their own way, my boys.

The Stomach Bug Hits

Monday afternoon a stomach virus hit our house hard.  It was an all out battle and the virus definitely won hands down.

Cullen fell out of ranks a little after 1530hrs when I found out the cupcake he ate at school was red.  Red all over my bedroom carpet and me.  I spent over an hour cleaning the mess and him up before Andrew was able to make it home.

I finally got Cullen settled on the couch when at 1730hrs Jackson looks at me saying, "I'm going to throw up."  I pick him up and haul ass to our downstairs bathroom.  We make it to the doorway when Jackson loses it.  Thankfully, Andrew was home and offered to clean up that mess.  I get another trashcan out and put it by the sofa.

In the meantime, Cullen loses it again.  I find out he has a serious diversion to throwing up in a trashcan and toilet.  He just wants to lose it wherever suits him.  Andrew and I are not digging this idea at all.

Jackson and Cullen alternate emptying their stomach contents for the rest of the evening.

I, on the other hand, lose my contents at 1830hrs in front of the whole family.  And about 5 minutes after I'm done, I'm comforting Jackson who is at it again.

Andrew and I finally get the boys down for an early bedtime after we're pretty sure they are done.

I decide to go to bed early because I'm still not feeling well.  I proceed to empty my stomach, pass out, wake up in agony, and empty my stomach.  This cycle goes on every hour until about 0100hrs.  Poor Andrew is right there with me taking care of me the whole time.  Best husband in the world!

Let me say, getting a stomach virus and being 34 weeks pregnant is not fun.  I was in pure misery the entire time.  I'm not only sick, but an dealing with the aches and pains of the third trimester overly emphasized because I'm sick.

I was practically bed ridden the next day.  Andrew took care of our other two refugees out in the family room.  We were not a happy household.

Thankfully, everyone is pretty much better.  Andrew hasn't come down with anything.  I am still lacking a lot of energy, but I have a parasite syphoning it off like a drug.  I'm just happy the kids are feeling better even if I'm not at 100 percent.  I do not want to go through this again.

Girl Scout Cookies

I have a love/hate relationship this time of year.  I love Girl Scout cookies!  On the other hand, they were invented by an evil, sadistic person wanting to destroy all my hard work in living a healthy lifestyle because I can literally inhale a box in one sitting.  No lie, I've done it before.

I want some type of credit for all my effort.  Andrew didn't seem to be too impressed when told him, but I am wholeheartedly proud of myself.  Hence the reason I'm writing this post.

About 3 weeks ago (give or take), we bought 5 boxes of Girl Scout cookies to support our neighbor.  Currently sitting in my pantry are 4 full boxes!  Only 1 box has been eaten.  Yes, one box.  And that box was eaten by myself and three other people.  Whoop, whoop!

I am 33 weeks pregnant, and I have yet to inhale a box or even more than 2 cookies in a sitting/day.  Seriously, I feel as though I deserve a medal for all my self control.

I thought I would put it out there because I am proud of myself.  No medal or award is deserved.  I just feel a huge sense of accomplishment for having those four uneaten boxes left in the pantry.

First Crush

It seems Jackson has his first little crush.  So sweet and innocent are the days of the young.

I've noticed for the past few weeks Jackson goes out of his way to tell a certain little girl named Shayla in his preschool class goodbye every day.  He also talks about them playing together along with other kids.  I was pretty sure what was going on, but actually had complete confirmation last night.

Jackson was telling Andrew about his day at preschool and kept mentioning Shayla's name.  I looked at Andrew and said, "I'm pretty sure your son has his first crush on a little girl named Shayla."

Ever the skeptic, Andrew wasn't completely convinced until he remembered a conversation he had alone with Jackson last week.

On his way to gymnastics class, Jackson asked Andrew, "Daddy, when you love someone you buy them a gift right?"

"Sure son," Andrew replied completely confused, "Do you want to buy someone a gift?"

"Oh no, she's going to buy me a gift!" Jackson said with absolute confidence.

Andrew had no idea what was going on until he put two and two together after my crush revelation.

I asked where he would get the idea of buying someone he loves a gift.  Andrew could only guess it was when he came home a little early one day after I was having a bad day.  He took the kids to HEB and bought flowers for me.  Cullen and Jackson each presented me with a small bouquet of flowers when they came home.  It was really sweet!

After I was told about this conversation, I was in near hysterics.  How cute is that?!  Jackson has so much confidence in his little crush.  It is pretty darn adorable!

Now I have to teach him, yes, it is good to buy a girl a gift every now and then.  We like it!

Children are a Special Kind of Stress

I heard on the news Monday morning married couples who have no kids are happier than married couples with children.  My answer to this study... no kidding!  It doesn't take a genius or scientists who have nothing better to do than perform a study that is a no brainer to know the answer to the question they posed.

Let me tell you why.

Kids are stressful.  Any kind of stress put on a marriage makes a marriage harder which can eventually lead to not being as happy as possible.  Take away the stressful situation, and voila!  People can be happier.

Children are a special kind of stress.  A stress lasting years and never quite goes away.

Doesn't matter if you have one or a dozen.  Granted, one is easier to manage than say 6, but every child causes stress on a parent.  It starts from day one with decisions such as breast or formula fed.  Organic or non-organic.  Cloth or disposable diapers.  Someone always has an opinion on what you should do and how you should raise your kids.  That's a lot of pressure especially for first time parents.

Fast forward, now you have a walking toddler.  How far should a parent baby proof the house?  What age is the right age for potty training?  Potty training is a living hell all parents have to go through that deserves its own section of stressfulness.  I will forego that today.

Couples with no children are capable of running simple errands without it becoming some epic Lord of the Rings journey. I don't even remember what it's like to go to the grocery store alone.  That magical place with all kinds of food and temptation for your little ones saying, "Can we get this?"  And you saying, "No put it back" and praying that is the end of the conversation.  To be able to run in and get milk without having to load up the kids, unload them, get a cart, get everyone situated in said cart, walk to the back far corner of the store (because heaven forbid you don't have to walk the entire length to get the only thing you need), keep said children with you at all times, grab the milk, go back the entire length of the store to check out, keep said children with you at all times again, checkout, walk to your car to load the kids back up, return the cart, and head home.  That is what happens when you have kids.  And yes, it is stressful.

Couples without kids do not have to worry about someone waking them up at all hours of the night with sicknesses, growing pains, teething, nightmares, night terrors (yes, there is a big difference), or just the fact your child decided to be wide awake at 4am.  Couples without children get a full night's sleep.  I'm not even sure what that is anymore.  I've been sleep deprived for years!

Couples without kids do not have not worry about scheduling or picking up child #1 while taking child #2 over to whatever activity they are participating in.  Scheduling is wide open with no children.  No childreners can actually go out on dates at the spur of the moment and go to fancy restaurants.  Those were the days (nostalgic sigh).

Eating meals without having to tell a little person to sit their butt down in the chair and put food in their mouth would be heavenly.

Having kids is stressful on married couples.  I can this without a study showing me.

But you know what.  As stressful as my life is having kids in it, my marriage is still going strong.  I'm crazy happy with my husband.  With all the negatives having kids can bring, they also bring a tremendous amount of joy to us.

Seeing them grow up amazes me everyday.  Watching their personalities develop over time is something no one else can give you.

I ask Andrew at least once a week if there is a return policy on our kids.  He just shakes his head at me and says, "No, but I wish sometimes."  It takes a lot of work and sacrifice to raise little ones, but in my eyes, it's worth it.

For all the married couples without children, enjoy what that freedom gives you.  Be happier than me according to this study.  Live your lives being able to run the grocery store for 1 item, and it not be an adventure.  I applaud you for your freedom mainly because there are a lot of days I wish I had it!

As for me, I'll continue with the craziness that is my life of having three little ones and one on the way.  I'll continue my epic journeys to the grocery store.  I will be stressed out and give up my freedom.  It's my choice, and I don't regret it for one minute.

The Epic Clogging

It took the third child to finally clog a toilet with a toy.

And I had absolutely nothing to do with it.

Sunday night, Sawyer was screaming and crying from somewhere inside the house.  Andrew and I couldn't find him at first.  Eventually he was found in the downstairs half bathroom where Cullen had locked him.  Nice brotherly love there.

Monday afternoon, Cullen says, "Mommy, the toilet paper won't go down."

I'm in the middle of plucking the meat off a rotisserie chicken, so I say, "Just leave it, and I'll look at it in a minute."

Before I had a chance, Jackson decides to go poop in the same toilet.  Afterward, I clean him up and flush the toilet.  I just see water rising in the bowl.

The toilet clogging is not an uncommon occurrence in our household.  I was completely prepared with a plunger sitting in the corner.

I plunge and flush.  A little goes down, but the water rises back again.  Plunge and flush.  Most goes down, but the water rises back up again.  Plunge and flush.  Plunge and flush.  Plunge and flush.  Plunge and flush.

By this time I'm thinking 'what the hell is wrong with this toilet?!'

I'm starting to get really frustrated and call Andrew.  His response, "Oh, I guess I need to figure out what toy I flushed down the toilet this morning."  What?!?!  Apparently he was not awake this morning and didn't see the toy sitting in bottom of the bowl until after he flushed.

Andrew comes home early to fix the problem he caused.  I'm not sure what exactly he did.  I was dutifully staying out of the way and keeping the kids outside playing.  All I know is it involved the plunger, a few pitches full of water, the snake, and lot of elbow grease.

About 30 minutes later, he comes out of the house toy in hand, looking triumphant.

Let me describe this toy.  It was probably at least six inches long and two inches wide.  It had a rattle on each end, connected by two twisty things.  It was a big toy, something a person should not miss seeing at the bottom of the toilet.

The toilet is unclogged and working normally.  I threw the poop soaked rattle away, and Andrew has learned to always double check the toilet bowl for toys.  All in all, not too much damage was done besides everything just being gross for a little while.