Fall, into the third trimester...

Let me start by saying, Hooorayyy for cooler temperatures! I am finally feeling the lovely, sweet relief that used to be brought by September and is now barely swept in by October. Time to start lighting my dozens of adorable Halloween candles without having to put the central air on. And, while this will quickly turn into a ho-hum challenge, I am enjoying the task of choosing a jacket, sweater or hoodie for Scarlett each morning. It really is the little things.

Right around this time of year I start to get antsy for all things Christmas. I know! I KNOW! I wait all year long for Fall and am practically daydreaming it away when I see so much as a candy cane candle in the stores. Red and white and silver and green ... it's commmminnnnnng. Hee Hee! I just hope I'm able to enjoy all of my favorite things as I always do ... while being nine months pregnant. Waddling around the tree farm will most likely result in a You Tube video.

I'm into my third trimester, folks. It may seem like it came quickly - and it sorta did once those pesky first fourteen weeks were behind me. I did regain my energy for the most part in the second trimester but lately am back to feeling tired and already getting uncomfortable. My belly now, at twenty-eight weeks, is comparable to my belly at thirty-six weeks with Scarlett. I'm in good health, thank God, and just have minor complaints. Mostly, the numbness/tingling in my hands and arms, the four hour gaps in overnight sleep and the crazy heart-racing and shortness of breath when the baby is pressing on a main artery. I remember the same with Scarlett, I got way less sleep in the third trimester than I did once she was born.

I had Scarlett in late September and wore flip flops throughout the entire pregnancy. It's a different ball game heading into the cold weather - I have just one option for footwear these days, a pair of brown boots. I can't squeeze into anything else, so any upcoming events require a trip to the shoe store. I have just two sweaters and one long sleeved shirt so you can get used to seeing them because I refuse to spend any more money on maternity clothes. (It's tough when your husband wears a size medium shirt).

I'm having fun these days working on the baby's room. Finally getting some ideas and it's starting to come together. I've sorted through Scarlett's old clothes and, although the seasons are a little off, I think we'll have a pretty good head start. It's nice to see all of my old favorites that I'd forgotten about. Even Scarlett is enjoying looking through her old shoes and things - I think she's getting excited! (I'd be more excited if she slept more than nine or ten hours a day).

Sure, I have moments where I think, how the hell am I going to pull this off? Another child? A BABY?? That needs me constantly for at least two years?? The bottles?? The bibs and spit-up rags? The witching hour/s??? The teething?? The extra laundry?? The poop?? The "Don't Touch That!!" stage?? The extra gear?? Getting out of the house with two instead of one??

Then I think, YEAH. I think I'm ready for that, I can do it.

We've had our struggles and we've waited a long time to create our family. I feel very, very blessed to be harboring another feisty little girl. I know it will be a challenge and I just hope I can keep my head about me, be as patient as possible and love my girls in every moment. As always I pray for a healthy full-term baby who is sure to become another beam of sunshine in our lives.

age three is bullshit.

She's napping! She's napping!! She's napping!!!
(She hasn't napped in ages)

Oh thank God! If that child doesn't wake up with a more pleasant demeanor I probably won't make it to 8 pm.

She has been soooo difficult lately. I choose the word difficult because I don't want to call her names like "witchy" or "heinous". Yes, she turned three at the end of September. Yes, I've heard all about how age three is worse than two, (pretty much anytime I was venting about how tough she was at two. Thanks). But I mean, come ON. Everything is a fight! Every ridiculous teeny thing is a gigantic challenge. Right down to which stories we read at bedtime. I understand that she wants to control everything - as do I. I understand it's all about her growing and changing and developing her personality, blah blah blah. Just cut the shit already, kid! And speaking of shit - use the damned toilet will ya? As my ever-expanding pregnant stomach presses harder against the changing table, your flailing arms and legs punch and kick just as hard. You're too big for that table! It's meant for dainty little pea pods not thirty-five pound, thirty-nine inch long children. I can barely hoist you up there, it's getting out of hand. And your diapers don't come any larger and if they DID I couldn't carry a box that large. Any WHY are you awake already!!??!?!?!! 

Ugh. My joyous quiet time has ended. But first, a story before I go...

This morning I brought home some new pink cowboy boots for her. She immediately started to try them on. I saw her struggling so I let her know there is velcro that allows for easier access. She threw them across the room. She asked if they are rain boots. I replied that they are cowboy/girl boots. She said, "Humph, well IIIIIIIIIIII wanted rain boots." Umm, no. First off, Veruca, there was no mentioning of a new boot of any kind coming into this house today. I took it upon myself to purchase a product that I thought you would like as a kind surprise. You threw said product across the room. I gathered the friggin boots and put them away stating that I would give them to another girl who would love and be grateful for them. One hour later she put the boots on and paraded around in them happy as a clam.

And THAT, my friends, is age three... barely two weeks in.