Jake and I have deposited ourselves in Fredericksburg and have begun the wait for the newest logger.  If she follows in Jake's footsteps she'll be arriving exactly three weeks from today.

We spent the morning bumbling around town. I dropped Jake off with a friend and continued to an OB appointment where I found that I'm measuring a little bit too small, which probably only means that baby's just nestled in nice and low, but I will be getting an Ultrasound on Wednesday just to make sure that is indeed the case and that my fluid levels are good and baby is beefy. I really don't want to be induced...so hopefully it will only show good things. We then accompanied my friend to toddler time at the library where Jake was about .01% engaged with the designated activities.

We went to toddler time at our library in LA once. Jake threw a fit when I made him leave the basketball court for the event. We both sat through the whole thing shell-shocked because we'd never seen so many toddlers in one place. The craft was edible, and my granola-heart almost stopped beating. I try to be cool in situations like that - and I usually am. I've resigned myself to the fact that my kids will eat whatever they want at their friends' houses, and I'm totally fine with that. I know their friends will find our eating habits absurd. I can roll with this. It doesn't bother me that my kid will be the one with homemade fruit leather in his school lunch and not have near the bargaining power of little Sophie with her gushers and soda. But seriously, library people, you're supposed to be some sort of beacon of hope for the next generation, not just another place where they get pretzels and chocolate teddy grahams and marshmallow paste. Thankfully Jake didn't realize any of it was food, and I wasn't enlightening him, so we made it out unscathed. I couldn't pull that stuff today. He's too worldly. But the Fredericksburg Library didn't try to feed my child anything so this library time got a pass.

While we're talking crunchy. My mom mentioned to me that she wanted us to start a ginger bug while I was here, and I almost knocked her over to get the grater. Because. Seriously. My mother wants to harvest wild yeasts with me! Voluntarily! I just about skipped around the kitchen (but then I didn't because women who are two hours shy of full term are not the ones who get to do that with a younger brother in the room and live it down.)

Full term. Full term. I'm welcoming its advent accordingly.

The chocolate didn't make it into the pic. But it should've. In this mama's book full term marks the end of weight gain, because as far as I'm concerned the rest of the weight I gain in this pregnancy doesn't count. Here's to not looking at the scale for the next 3ish weeks! Or the 6ish weeks after that!

Though this little lady has me pushing numbers on the scale I've never seen the likes of, I'm pretty impressed that the skin on my belly seems relatively unimpressed by the whole affair. Last pregnancy my skin felt SO stretched the whole time. I remember looking down at my 5-months-pregnant stomach and thinking "ain't no way!": I was stretched to capacity. But the body does what it do and kept right on making room for little person.

This time around I'm sitting at 37 weeks and my skin's like "Bring it. I SO got this!"

Alright. My diaper laundry is done, so I'm going to bed and trying not to stress about what news Wednesday's ultrasound will bring...this shouldn't be too hard because good ole Doctor Dad took one look at my stomach this evening and with 3000+ prenatals under his belt said: "No way that baby is too small."

...Thanks, Dad.

You're welcome for all the profound thoughts here compiled. Good night.

7 Quick Takes: Mostly Pregnancy Ramblings

- 1 -

I am 35 weeks along as of Tuesday. And feeling very pregnant. I've started making all the weird grunting sounds whenever I stand up or swing my legs into the car or...move...and Jake has started imitating me. He's much cuter when he does it. I'm having boatloads of Braxton Hicks contractions which don't really bother me, but they weird me out a little because in my first pregnancy I only remember getting them while working out. The thermostat gets cranked further down every week that I'm more pregnant, even though other bloggers are talking about something called fall.

- 2 -

So far, our plan is still the same. Jakeboy and I will move in with my parents at the beginning of October and begin the long wait for the newest Rhodes from the comfort of my childhood home. My folks live about four hours away, so we won't be seeing too much of Jacob in that time. And we haven't figured out how we'll do the whole make-sure-hubby-makes-it-to-the-birth thing. When I went into labor with Jake, I knew immediately. There was no doubt in my mind that this was labor. It took about twelve hours for that labor to get intense, but I was positive it was the real thing. But I hear that sometimes it's harder to tell the second time around, and the stakes are higher this time since I'd like baby's father to be there...Thoughts from my multiparous readers?

- 3 -

Nesting is a very strange phenomenon. When Jake was born we were in the process of moving, so my nesting instincts were all channeled toward finding a nest, any nest, before baby came. This time we're pretty settled in a little two bedroom apartment that promises to be home only until we can get our ducks in enough rows to buy a house (by the summer? knock on wood) so I'm not at all inspired to make the apartment beautiful. This sends my nesting traffic into weird and seemingly unproductive places, like organizing my craft supplies. Much needed grocery-runs take every ounce of motivation but color-coding my embroidery floss? Please mcpretty please.

- 4 -

All I think about are donuts. I'm also about five pounds heavier now than I was when I delivered Jake even though baby girl is measuring a little small...so...yeah...restraint be mine.

Last pregnancy all I thought about were oranges.

- 5 -

I can't bring myself to crack any of my pregnancy books this go round. Last time I was pretty gungho about having an unmedicated birth. I read all about natural labor and delivery and topped every night off with a couple zen birth stories from the land of Ina May. I know this is my second time, so it's not too surprising that I haven't been as obsessed with childbirth, but I was definitely "in the zone" last time and this time I'm like...what's transition again?

- 6 -

Also, my friend Anne has updated her blog with more details on her situation. I got to see her a few days ago and she looks extremely well and baby is staying put which is awesome. She's in the hospital till she's at least 24 weeks along which is TOMORROW. Every day is a huge victory for that family, and so if your feeling clickish, go offer your prayers and encouragement and

invite her to your blog.

- 7 -

And the rambling ends here. Back to eating my weight in watermelon and caprese salads (because as far as I can tell it's still summer) and trying to forget about the Shipley's Donut Shop camped at the end of my street.

And a family photo courtesy of Picasa and our Apple Devices.

 

More takes at Jenn's

Prayer Request for a Dear Friend and her Baby

I'm writing today to ask that you stop and pray for my dear friend Anne.

Anne is 22 weeks along in a long awaited pregnancy, and found out yesterday that she's begun to show some signs of preterm labor. She's in the hospital now about to undergo a procedure that will hopefully keep her from going into labor prematurely.

I ask for your thoughts and your prayers for this growing family today and in the coming days. The pregnancy has been a bumpy ride for the Bazins, and I encourage you to head over to her blog and offer some encouragement.

  

(Anne, I know I didn't ask if I could post your pic, but I wanted everyone to see what a bright person you are. And that sometimes you drink white wine from modified water bottles and that makes you pretty much the awesomest ever.) 

Some Toddler Moments for You

The weekend without Jacob has ended, and went tolerably well. We all survived. No premature labor. I didn't get spooked at night. We hung out with a friend on Saturday, and now Jake insists that his new friend's toy kitchen must make an appearance in his nightly ocean story.

I'm been revving up my craft engines and brushing off my standard kitchen practices, to get me out of my silly funk. So I've been relishing in the peace that comes from needlework and fermenting cream.

But onto some JakeboyMoments

 ~ ~ ~

On Sunday, he awoke and came out of his room at the I'lltakeit hour of 6:40am. He was calling for me, and I was still in my room in bed with the door closed. He walked around the apartment repeating: "Mama. Mommy. Mama. Mommy. Where ARE joo?"

He did this for five minutes before I heard him say "Oh!" and then the door to my room opened.

He's a quick one.

~ ~ ~

Yesterday we saw a mouse swimming in the apartment complex pool. Jake was not particularly impressed by the swimming mouse. He's much more interested when people swim in the pool than rodents apparently.

This situation has repeated itself in various ways since Jake has entered toddlerhood. I see something mildly interesting like a snail, and I really want my son to get excited about it, so I point it out to him enthusiastically: "JakeJake, do you see that SNAIL?"

And he says: "Mama, see dat GRASS??"

I'm sure there's some valuable Chestertonian lesson to be taken from the above anecdote involving the loss of the sense of the marvelous. But this blog doesn't do profound very well - as evidenced by my unpublished drafts - so I'll spare you that reflection.

We eventually went down and saved the mouse with a collander. It was half triumphant and half gross.

 ~ ~ ~

This morning he asked me where his eyebrows were.

(I didn't sugar coat my response. No. I told him God's truth:

"It's not my fault, kid, it's your father's."



Don't ask me about what we were wearing in that picture. We were in college so it doesn't count.)

~ ~ ~

Jake is a little musically challenged - or as Jacob puts it - "He can't sing for shit."

But the little guy will croon with the best of them. So far his best reworking of a song is Gillian Welch's "Orphan Girl." Instead of the refrain "I am an orphan girl" we get a toddler belting "I have no fingers."

~ ~ ~

He's become obsessed with backhoes and tractors. If we ever see some while on errands, he will ask "More tractor pick a dirt up? More tractor pick a dirt up?" about 25 times in a row. So we purchased these at Target last week, and it was perhaps the best decision we've ever made in our lives.

The world's best and cheapest toddlersitters. He sleeps with them. One clutched in each hand.

~ ~ ~

Despite his recent digression into the realm of heavy machinery, his passion for all things ball-related is alive and well.

Last night he requested THIS as his bedtime lullaby. Thank you, J Milla.

~ ~ ~

He has started playing pretend Mass. He walks around the house holding up large books and saying "ALLELOOOLA." Or he processes up and down the hallway with both hands gripping a yard stick.

I didn't grow up Catholic. Is this normal?

Does this mean I have to homeschool?

~ ~ ~

Again in the Catholic vein: instead of finishing our ritual grace at mealtimes with "...from thy bounty through Christ our Lord," he used to say "bouncy bouncy bouncy Lord."