Happy St. Paddy's Day!

Happy St. Paddy's Day…

…from our THREE little leprechauns!

That's right, Patrick John made his appearance a little bit early on March 13 at 1:47pm, clocking in as my itty bittiest baby at only 8 pounds, 5oz and 19.25" long.

(His sister was 8'11" and brother was 8'12" - both 20.5" long… it's funny how those 6ish ounces didn't really make a difference in the level of Holy-Shizz-what-was-I-thinking??ring-of-fire moment.)

His birth was unlike either of my others, but was ultimately fantastic and brought me this new, dark haired, cheeks for weeks, tiny guy to snuggle and love.

His Daddy and I were both very thankful he chose to come a few days early, because Patrick had indeed been our chosen boy name for…well, forever, and then when we found out that we were due on St. Patrick's Day with G3…we wondered if we could really do that to a kid.

Though, his Daddy did thoughtfully point out that he would be very popular in his fraternity someday. Sigh.

Thankfully, we were able to avoid that particular conundrum.

Happy Due Date to my newest little love, and a Happy St. Patrick's Day to everyone!



Evelyn Rae is 3.5, Liam is 2 and Patrick is 4 days old

…and there are some really great outtakes from this shoot that I cannot wait to share. And, you know, a birth story and stuff.

…right after a few more green beers.

Because - NOT PREGNANT.

Sláinte!

Mission Ready

Tomorrow I am 39 weeks pregnant.

And I am officially ready, so let's get this show on the road.

Now, I know, I know - we should let babies cook till they are done. And I totally get it. I went 11 days past my due date with Evelyn,  remember? And I didn't feel "done" any of that time.

But, I have never felt so "done" with pregnancy before…

I do now.

Who knows if it's because this is my third baby (in four years), or if it is because I suspect that I am actually closer to due than not (based on conception, which I am pretty damn sure of, because you know, two kids…so I can pretty well account for the "grown up times" that A and I get)…

...or if it is because it seems like I have been pregnant forever - simply because none of my new friends have ever known me not pregnant (crazy), or because we have done so much (like moving across the world, surviving our first deployment with kids, etc.) while pregnant with this baby.

I am beginning to suspect, though, that it has more to do with the reality of how little time that we will have as a family of 5 and be physically together finally starting to sink in.

We know that A will be deploying again, fairly soon after this baby is born, and will be gone for pretty much the majority of 2015. (Excuse the vague terms. There is this thing called OpSec. You can read about it.)

When it comes down to it, this baby's daddy will leave an infant…and come home to an almost one year old. I am grateful that A has the opportunity to be here for this baby's birth, obviously, but it still doesn't make it easy for either of us to look down the barrel of the reality of this separation.

We have known about the deployment, of course, and it has always been in the back of our minds…but preparing for baby has taken precedence over preparing for deployment. And now it looms closer and makes us both sit up and take note. I know that it's just as hard for him to conceptualize as it is for me.

So, a week or two of extra time with Daddy - and for me to have an extra set of hands in this new world of parenting 3 children under 4 (as much as possible while still being responsible for all the deployment work ups that will be happening at work) - actually does feel like it will make a difference.

Emotionally, mentally, physically - having as much time as possible with both of us on the same continent seems important. For all the kids, really. And for the parents.

So, I wouldn't mind if you wanted to debut a little early, G3.

It seems that we are ready for you to join us.

Whenever you're ready.


Evelyn Rae is 3.5, Liam is 2, I am 38 weeks and 6 days along with G3

…and on the upside, we are hoping to break up this deployment with a nice long visit back to the states. More on that to come, but I already can't wait for stupid amounts of silly American things that I miss.

Oh, Siblings.

The kids aren't even home from school yet, but I couldn't resist sharing this from this morning.

More to come from their first day.


Evelyn is 3.5, Liam is 2, I am 38 weeks along with G3

…and poor Liam.

Two little monkeys

"Let's make some nice faces for our card," we said.

"Can you guys smile nicely for everybody?" we asked.

This is what we got.

Can you believe these monkeys are about to be promoted another rung on the big sibling ladder?

Yeah, they can't either.

We think they'll do just fine.

(You know, knock on all the wood.)

Evelyn Rae is 3 ("and a half, Momma! Don't forget the half!"), Liam is 2, and I am 37 ("and a half!") weeks along with G3

…and, Grandparents? You're welcome.

Tiny Dancer

At the beginning of February, we finally enrolled Evelyn in some ballet classes here in Japan.

And as I went to share some photos of that day, I looked back for her ballet photos from Norfolk on ye olde blog.

…there were none.

What the heck? How had I neglected to share ANY photos of a year's worth of the most adorable ballet…ever?

Not even the first day?

Look how wee she was! Ack!

I mean, I made a chalkboard sign, for chrissake.

"Let's get this show on the road, Momma." 

And this?

My heart, y'all.

How did I not share this?!

I like to call this one, "Welp, here we go!"

I didn't even share the photos from that one adorable time where Daddy managed to not have to work and was her dance partner.

…I may have shed a tear or two that day.

I mean, she was still in diapers. She was so bitty. Her hair was all over the place, it felt like she had just learned to walk, let alone dance, her leotard barely stayed up on her shoulders and her tights - even in the smallest size that ballet store sold - were entirely too long for those two year old legs.

And now?

Now, that girl amazed me.

I had always intended on getting her involved in ballet again once we arrived here. 

But with deployment and unpacking and trying to get settled…it just never happened. And I would feel  pangs of guilt every time that she would ask me to watch her dance, or to help her practice her positions.

I knew she missed it. 

And though I knew the setting here was much more relaxed, and that the class was only half an hour - and that I couldn't comprehend dragging a toddler (and soon a baby) to sit still for a half hour class to watch (at 3 you no longer participate in the class as a parent, but it's not exactly a drop off and go situation either) - I knew we needed to do this for my girl. 

She missed it so.

So, we went to sign up.

And we got her dressed and squeezed her into last year's shoes, and went to class.

And she watched.

And she listened.

And she danced.

And she was filled to the brim with joy.

And so was I.


Evelyn Rae is 3.5, Liam is 2, I am 37 weeks and 1 day along with G3

…and this is what Liam does during class.

No shame in this game.

Mental State

Remember when I used to do Bump Updates?

Every week?

Hahaha. Oh, the glorious days before two mobile children were my primary responsibility.

In any case, I used to include a little section called "Mental State" just to check in with how I was thinking, feeling, etc. about the impending birth of my kiddos.

My mental state currently is a bit overwhelming. Today, I am 37 weeks along, which used to be considered "full term" - and though I am a firm believer in letting babies cook, I am legitimately all over the freaking place mentally.

Liam's birthday and party were this sort of deadline that I had arbitrarily constructed in my head - after that was over, *then* it would be time to worry about baby.

Which…

Can I just, for a minute…

Oh, precious boy.

…and now it's over, and I look around and think - ACK!

This is going to be a total mind dump, stream of consciousness, exactly what comes to mind kind of a post. Come, see what is inside my head.

First, I am having increased pressure and contractions, which is making me lose my damn mind. I keep thinking that I could go into labor at any second (which, you know - possible, but not likely given that we are still only at 37 weeks).

This is driving me crazy, because I should be relaxing and putting up my feet, but instead I launch into some ridiculous project.

See: sewing. Sewing ALL THE THINGS.

Alternatively, I am the most tired person in the world. So, I start ridiculous projects and then about half way through just want to go to sleep.

I think the kiddos are starting to get wise to the fact that there are BIG LIFE CHANGES coming their way, and they are becoming increasingly needy and snuggly - which, yay, but booooo.

We haven't had a night without either of them, or both of them, wandering into our bed in…a few weeks. Given that we have a Queen sized bed, my giant pregnant belly, and the fact that they care naught for taking up all the space in said bed, sleep is even rougher than third trimester usual stuff with heartburn and heaving yourself over to, you know, roll over.

The other morning I actually retreated to Evelyn's bed to try to get some rest at about 4:30 am.

That's a new low.

It is also a strange time because we aren't sure if this will be our last baby. I feel simultaneously like I should be enjoying and marveling at this pregnancy and pregnant state more, and that I am so ready to be done with pregnancy. It's…strange.

I had my 36 week appointment this last week, which the whole family attended. {Amusing.}

But, we did a confirmation of head down position via ultrasound, so that was super fun. We got to see G3's cute little profile and the midwife checked everything else out too. She actually accidentally saw the sex of our baby - uh oh! - even though she totally didn't mean to (I'm just glad we weren't looking), because now she is all worried about being careful with pronouns.

 I assured her we just wouldn't pay attention... but now that is driving me batty, too!

We are so close and I sort of just want to know. TERRIBLE.

Additionally, we finally toured the L and D ward at the hospital and I am a little thrown. Not much, as I was anticipating everything we saw, had asked all the questions before, etc. But still - it's different to see the rooms and just how…hospital-y they are, in comparison to my past birth experiences.

Both of my babies have been adorably convenient and born in the mid afternoon, with sunlight streaming in through the windows.

…these rooms have no windows.

Yikes.

I am a visualization for preparation person, and it is much harder to form a mental picture of myself giving birth in those rooms than it was at the midwifery center. I know that most of that stuff will hopefully fly away when actually in birth but it's rough for my psyche.

Considering that our "home" doesn't really feel 100% like "home" yet to me, this is just another thing that makes me….eh.

But it's not all negative stuff running through my mind - I am actually starting to get so excited about meeting this baby. I have had small peaks of it before now, and I feel myself surging into full blown excitement mode.

I cannot even conceptualize myself with three children, and that this new being will be just as loved as the two already driving me crazy with reckless and wild emotion at any given moment, but I know that he or she will be. It's so similar to right before Liam was born.

I couldn't imagine life with another, and then, all of a sudden, I couldn't imagine it without him.

I know that will happen again - but in the meantime I will just marvel at this in-between existence of wanting to know and love this baby, and wondering if I will have enough - of everything - to give to all of them.

I am torn between wanting to meet this baby now and wanting baby to chill for a bit so we can accomplish ALL THE THINGS. I know that we will never accomplish all of it, and babies come when they want, and thankfully, since this ain't my first rodeo, I also know how little "stuff" babies actually require.

But still.

I would like to feel settled. I believe this will help make the baby and other children feel more settled as well.

I would like to feel ready. That the house is totally a home. It is the first home the baby will know, even if it doesn't quite feel like it to the rest of us yet. Maybe it will to the rest of us because it will be to this new one.

I would like to feel relaxed and in touch. I am not afraid of labor, I am not afraid of delivering this baby. But I want to know that I am in the right headspace to give myself every opportunity to have a beautiful birth.

And getting all of this out of my head is one step in the right direction.


Evelyn Rae is 3.5, Liam is 2 and I am 37 weeks with G3

…and thanks to a friend for grabbing a photo of all 4 (5!) of us at the party, too.

Mommy's Bed

Early (too early) last Saturday morning, I was wide awake in bed. Pregnancy insomnia had stricken again. I had just popped a few more Tums in my mouth and settled back down into a horizontal position once I could assure that I wouldn't jolt right back up to combat a new bout of reflux.

As I settled in, my gaze rested on the three sleeping forms in my bed with me.

Snuggled right up next to me, as close as he could get, my little man. Somewhere around 2:30 he had awoken and started tiny sobs in his new, beloved, big boy bed. I went in to check on him, rubbed his back and sang him his favorite song, "Twinkle, Twinkle".

He settled down, but pretty quickly looked up at me with a little frown and sad eyes and said, "Mommy's bed, please?"

And as those still-just-chubby-enough-at-the-elbow arms reached up to me, I just said, "Ok, Buddy."

To Mommy's bed we went.

Soon after, I heard the unmistakeable pad of little feet heading my way. By the time I looked over my shoulder and opened my eyes, there was a little face with sleep tousled blonde curls peeking at me.

"Can I come snuggle in Mommy's bed?" my baby girl asked with the unmistakeable signs of heavy sleep in her throat and eyes.

"Sure, baby, why don't you climb over on Daddy's side?"

And, up into Mommy's bed she went.

So, a short while later, as I laid there unable to sleep, I looked around at my bed.

There was my little spider monkey sleeper snuggled right in next to me who had drifted off in record time. He's been like that since he was born. So long as he is up against my chest, he is the sleepiest kid in the world. And there he stays. Move away and he clings right back to you. Or to me. Because really, it's only to me. Face to my chest, and shins to my legs.

Growing like a weed, that one, I thought to myself. Those shins used to curl against my belly.


Beyond him, the splayed out sleeping beauty of my little ladybug. Arms stretched out above her head, blonde curls falling all over the face that holds those impossibly long and dark lashes and that tiny ski jump nose. That face, so full of expression each and every moment of the day at the very intense and constantly emotional age of three, looking just like she did as a newborn once she is asleep. Calm and serene. Thoughtful even, with her eyebrows slightly raised.

I see now, why mothers can always find the faces of their babies in their children, regardless of age.


And the third figure? That would be the snoring dog - belly up, tongue splayed out of his mouth at the feet of the kids. Our first baby, I sometimes joke. Our poor, displaced, first child.


Daddy was on duty, and nowhere to be found in Mommy's bed.


All too often, now it seems, my bed partners are the little folks that make my heart go pitter pat and have made it grow in more ways than I thought possible, but not the one that first made it explode with the fireworks of love.

Such is this chapter in our life, and in our love.


I don't know where along the way the kids had started referring to our bed as only "Mommy's Bed." But they had, and it had stuck. I like to think that it is because they still reach for me in the night, more so than because of their Daddy's frequent absence.

That it would have been called Mommy's Bed even without the consistent duties and deployments. For, as much as Daddy is their very favorite playmate during the day, when they want comfort from bad dreams or restlessness in the dead of the night - it is me they want to "nuggle" against.


And then, there was someone else there, too. Making their little presence known with great insistence. A new little life - who I will incomprehensibly love as much as these other tiny humans, but I don't yet even know - pummeling me from the inside.

My fierce ladybug. My sweet little man. This bouncing ball inside.

"Who will you be like, little one?" I thought to myself as I rested a hand on those kicks and flips going on inside me, cherishing a moment of quiet between me and this new baby. There were so many of these peaceful moments when I was pregnant with Evelyn, but they are much harder to come by with this new one.

Yet, I laid there - peaceful, content, and sleepless - in this moment.


And as the sun began to shine light through the window, I knew it meant that the other half of my heart would come back to us soon. He might even be on his way now, disembarking from that giant ship and walking toward home, a little faster than he normally might, both of us wondering what adventures the day would bring.

But first, I knew he would quietly unlock the door, put down his things and quickly stride up those stairs to climb in with us. We would hold hands and think the same thought about how once, not too long ago, he would come home to just me - usually with hot coffee in hand - and the snuggling would have been a little different.

Today though, we would meet each others eyes above sleeping heads and silently agree to cherish the quiet of the morning, in Mommy's bed.



Evelyn Rae is three and a half, Liam is uncomfortably close to two, and I am 33 weeks pregnant with G3.

…and these are the days, the seemingly endless ones that will in fact end all too soon. Sometimes I just need a reminder.