Monday, May 13, 2013

W.I.W.S... Again.

This is what I wore Sunday.  I also wore it for my son's First Holy Communion on Saturday,  and for our homeschooling group's annual May crowning the day before that.   And this is the outfit I'd worn last Sunday (when this picture was actually taken); come to think of it, I posted on this outfit already!

The most comfortable dress, given my belly and the weather, wins.

Last Sunday, revisited.
Dress: mystery maternity, because the tag was removed and it came to me via my friend, Christina
Sweater:  Obviously maternity, but I left it in the car and can't check...
Black Sandals (not pictured): Marshall's purchase, super comfy
Same dress, sans sweater, Saturday.


I went to Mass alone for Mother's Day.  The kids' final CCD class and rehearsal for next week's Children's Mass fell too crazy-early for me to deal with after two days of non-stop-on-my-feet-ness, so my husband drove them to an earlier Mass (8:15).  Thus, they could indulge in all of the goodies they wanted at their class parties afterwards, and I could stay home with my feet up, put the prescribed cold compresses/cream/ spa gloves on my rash-riddled hands, and then take a 90-minute nap.

Best and most needed Mother's Day Gift, ever.

The girls came home and presented me with the roses they'd gotten on their way out of church.  Since I am too big & burned out to rummage around for one of our nice bud vases, I used a Bud vase of another sort.  Because this is how I roll these days.  And I look forward to a post-delivery brew, you know... to aid in let-down and all of that.  (The Mama's know what I mean.  If you have to ask, you don;t want want to know.  Or Google it.  Just sayin'.)

This works for me.
I was relieved and liberated to read Calah Alexander's blog post about Mother's Day. This is how I have come to feel about the day.  Admittedly, I struggled with some co-Dependent guilt about our not doing anything for my mother-in-law; in fairness to myself, I'd pushed my body hard for two solid days (and also for two weekends running) and needed to stay home and rest.  Sound boring?  Nah.  I call it serene.  But my days of fantasizing/desiring brag-worthy gifts are long gone.  I realize I am just often a burden as a blessing in how I live out this vocation as wife and mother. 

There was also an awesome blog that showed up in my FB newsfeed earlier today (I'd thought it was Calah but I don't see it in her blog), and I am kicking myself for not sharing the post, because I want to revisit it again and now I can't find it.  This particular mother blogger was having her "most difficult pregnancy;"the title had something to do with Contemplating the Incarnation on My Kitchen Floor.  Hence, my google search for said topic is yielding flooring adverts. Help! Anyone?  Because I have shed more crazy-anxious-sad-weird tears in this pregnancy than during any other, and so I totally relate to this woman's experience.

Furthermore, my husband needs to know he is not alone in having to shoulder the cross of his ever-weepy wife.  For instance, last night I wept before falling asleep.  Emre, startled and concerned, asked me what was wrong, if I was OK, why was I crying...  And as I paused in the darkness, trying to find words to express my sadness and fear in that moment, what came out was, "I am afraid of 'failing at labor.'"

What does that even mean?!  I dunno.  Wait and ask me to explain when that feeling sweeps over me again.  Its been about five hours; I'm thus overdue for another crying jag, so you should get the opportunity soon.

Here I am at week 36, huge in the belly, feeling all those fun full-term-now physical sensations that our Creator wisely wired up for us to get us to actually look forward to what lies ahead to get that baby out and in our arms.  (Again, in sensitivity, I shall leave it at that.)  Emotionally I have never been this anxious/fearful/uptight about the start of labor.  I have read that its in the realm of normal to feel this way, which is a relief.  (And why I'd like to rediscover that blog post!)

All that said, I'd best stop here and amble waddle to bed.  One never knows when labor will begin (tonight?  tomorrow?  next week?  June?), and I have noticed a direct link between my ramped-up feelings and late hours on the clock. 

I've also digressed way off topic.  Mea culpa!  Check back with Fine Linen and Purple to get yourself back on the fashion-minded track. 

Friday, May 10, 2013

7 Quick Takes: Reflections on Floors, "Car Guys", and Leonard Nimoy


--- 1 ---
One of the selling points to this house we bought when I was young (read: naive) was that it had hardwood floors throughout, which the elderly owners had covered up with wall-to-wall carpet. 

I remember my life pre-K (pre-Kid), when I would be on hands & knees with hardwood floor cleaner, particularly before Christmas Eve dinner or another family function, working to get the wood to shine. Heck, I think I managed that tradition into the toddlerhood of Anna.

It has been a long time since Anna was a toddler.

I just spent an hour-plus mopping the diningroom and part of the livingroom.

To the untrained eye, it now looks like I never even touched it.

Three kids who school at home without a paid janitor really do a number on the floor. Nothing short of an Act of God is gonna get these floors clean!  

While I would never trade my four kids for *anything* I would gladly wave a magic wand and get rid of hardwood floors if I could.

Well played, former owners. Well played.

--- 2 ---
My Son't First Holy Communion is tomorrow.  He, and all of us, are super excited.  The fact of the reception being at my house, paired with my biological urge to nest, compelled me to get on my hands & knees with a butter knife to scrape- yes, scrape- unrecognizable bits of melted-in-foods from the aforementioned diningroom floor.  Please note: week-old Go-gurt is every bit as adhesive as crazy glue.  So too are once-dipped-in-milk-now-dried-and-petrified graham cracker bits.  3M's product development team should get on this, fast.
--- 3 ---
My husband is a trekkie and a "car guy;" he hipped me to this link, and it made my week (not that we can afford an Audi mind you; our cars are over ten years old.  He often works on them himself.  He can do his own brakes, shocks, plugs, etc., and in his self-taught learning process developed a fascination with automobiles of all kinds, hence his title, "car-guy").  I laugh every time I watch it, because I am a big. old. dork.   


--- 4 ---
For those of you who are not dorks, the brilliance of the commercial is how Nimoy references himself while singing in the car.  Didn't get it?  Here, this will help:
Tolkien fans, no need to thank me.  I blog to serve.
--- 5 ---
And now for something completely different:
I had Anna take photos, but I still missed the link-up At Fine Linen & Purple last week end.  Here is me on Sunday, at the start of 35 weeks.  I keep losing track of where George and I are at gestation-wise, so I'd thought this was the start of week 36...  The  OB set me straight the next day.  I was actually relieved, because I was nervous that I'd go early and miss J.P.'s Communion.  (And yeah, OK, that still could happen, so prayers please, people!)
--- 6 ---
My nerves have settled down considerably since packing my hospital bag, by the way.  There is a lot to be said for the urge to nest.
--- 7 ---
On a serious note, I would like to ask prayers for a dear family.  Our friends' daughter, Briana, recently died after a three-year battle with leukemia, three days after getting married and two weeks shy of her 24th birthday.  She was beautiful, brave, and vivacious.

Years ago, this young woman unwittingly encouraged my husband to begin his own "Car Guy" journey, when her dad had proudly disclosed how his then-college-going daughter changed her own brakes.

Once it was clear that all of her treatment options were now exhausted, and that the disease had settled into her liver, her doctor asked  if she would like him to explain what was going to happen to her.  She smiled (as always) and said, "No, thank you.  I've already talked to Father Joe; he's told me what will happen to me."

Would that we all had such beauty and hope within us.

For more Quick Takes, visit Conversion Diary!