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Party of Five

 

Liam Benjamin

born at 9:48 a.m.

9 pounds 8 ounces

22 inches

Welcome to the world, sweet boy!

39 weeks = I'm having a baby tomorrow = so of course I am experiencing social media issues

As I begin to write this, it's 11 p.m. Luke and I need to leave the house by 6:45 tomorrow morning to make our 7:30 hospital check-in. Which means I will need to be awake long before 6:45. And yet, I can't go to sleep without blogging. You people (and my archives) mean that much to me.

Everything that needs to be done is now done, along with an even longer list of things that DIDN'T need doing but were because hello, crazy nesting pregnant lady here. Two Saturdays ago, I drove to Walmart in a frenzy because I suddenly needed a new wash basin, dish drain, utensil drawer, and a toothbrush holder. Yesterday, I cleaned underneath my kitchen sink and almost went into labor vacuuming every nook and cranny of our upstairs. We never did touch up the paint, though, and the garage still needs sweeping out, so crossing my fingers that the medical staff will overlook these obviously significant details and deem us fit to leave the premises with a newborn.

At least his room is done. My intent was to post pictures, but Typepad is crapping out on me tonight when it comes to uploading pictures and formatting paragraphs, and at 11:40 p.m. I just have to say SCREW THIS, I'M TIRED and move on. I'll try again in the morning, if there's time.)

Today was a wonderful last hurrah of sorts before we turn our lives upside down with our last go at babyhood. Three hours at the zoo in the sweltering heat, and multiple stares as people watched me canvass the grounds, Nathan on my hip for almost half that time because he (and Kara, too) didn't want to leave my side. They were extra cuddly, and especially generous with hugs and kisses and "I love yous." Coloring at home afterwards, Kara couldn't keep herself from smooching my hair, face, arm, hand, any body part of mine within her reach was fair game. And tonight, after a few hours of hardcore Lost A Sock family bonding time, I crawled into bed next to her and held her tight until she fell asleep, Nathan across the room, who went out like a light in minutes, the result of an active, exciting day.

Aside from the already-mentioned photo issue, which I will try to remedy tomorrow, let's tie up some loose ends that may or may not be keeping you up at night:

Baby Updates
That is still up for grabs. When it comes to posting pictures and tidbits on Twitter, I am all set. Facebook is a different story, seeing as I can't figure out how to post from my fan page through my phone. As for the blog, Molly is at the ready to post for me, but I may try to do it myself from the hospital. If I go that route, I will be doing so from my work laptop and will therefore be able to update Facebook accordingly. So, I guess the moral of the story is that if you want quick and dirty posting in real time, Twitter's where it's at. If you are content waiting for news until sometime in the evening, than Facebook or just popping in here will satisfy your needs just fine.

Hospital Bag
Ninety-nine percent packed. I did pack extra lip balm, thanks to your suggestions. I'm even bringing my Boppy support pillow, which I mistakenly assumed had been donated to Goodwill shortly after Nathan's birth but was actually being held hostage by my sister, who casually mentioned that it was in her possession. I don't think I needed it during my second hospital stay, but seriously, I lamented over not having that pillow so many times throughout this pregnancy that I am bringing it soley to make up for lost time.

Big Brother/Big Sister Gifts
Luke and I didn't do this when Nathan was born because Kara was so little and didn't really understand what was going on, but this time around, we thought it might be nice to get something for the kids that would help occupy them in those early days once the baby is in our possession. However, instead of presenting them at the hospital, we've decided to wait until I get home since they will be living it up in the interim with Auntie Molly and her crew.

There is so much more I could say about related to this having-your-last-baby business, but it is now 12:16 a.m., and Typepad really is acting like a douche, and I can't tell you how many times I've tried to fix the paragraph breaks in the source code and have it all undone the minute I hit "Save," so I am turning in for what is likely to be my last five-hour block of uninterrupted sleep for the rest of the summer. See you on the flip side! (Unless I really can fix all of these errors in the morning. We'll consider it my last nesting urge!)

* Speaking of Facebook: I have become increasingly more protective when it comes to friending people on my personal page, for many reasons, so please don't be offended if you no longer have access. I promise you, I'm very boring and only post sporadically, so you are not missing anything. If it weren't for the face that my fan page is tied to my personal account, I would seriously consider deleting that account altogether.

The answer is yes, yes we are. Full-term, baby! And you can stick a fork in me, because physically, I am so Done.

What to say about 37 weeks? I'm still averaging a 15-pound weight gain, which is mind-boggling to me, seeing as my nightly routine now consists of devouring as many chocolate cookies as possible while working through my collection of Friends DVDs (we just finished season 5). Over the weekend, it was Oreos. Monday? Chips Ahoy. Also puzzling is the fact that I can eat cookies, ice cream, candy, and other junk foods without trouble, but Raisin Bran, sugary kids' cereals, and any sort of fruit juice throw my system completely out of whack after just a couple of bites/drinks. What's up with that?

Speaking of food, I am ravenously hungry, so we can probably expect that weight gain to skyrocket come this time next week. Not "A Tale of Two Lunches" hungry like from my second trimester with Nathan, but on a lunch run a couple of days ago I did order one and a half roast beef sandwiches (and a bag of chips) (and a cookie) from my new favorite deli without batting an eye. I presume it will only get worse from here.

Also, I'm still generating inappropriate comments from society at large on my admittedly ginormous size. The mechanic who worked on my Cobalt last week said I looked ready to burst, and the after-hours janitor at my work, whom I had previously never met, was compelled while emptying my recycling to say that I was ready to pop AND ask if I was having twins, all in the same breath. Now that's multitasking!

Things are continuing to move along on the nesting front. Luke and I finally rearranged the toys that were wreaking havoc on our living room thanks to the spontaneous purchase of a shelving bin organizer over the weekend. Bathrooms have been sanitized, cars cleaned, pantries tidied, ceiling fixtures repaired, and nurseries finished. And tonight, we finally began packing our hospital bags. So far, all I have in there are some nursing tanks and bras, one pair of clean underwear, footies, a partially filled toiletry bag, and a breastfeeding book. We'll throw in a couple of going-home outfits for Baby Brother (one newborn, one 0-3 months, as per usual), and a beautiful crocheted blanket gifted from a coworker, but other than that, I am blanking. I know I'll need something for myself to wear upon leaving the place, but I'm not sure what that will be yet. I'll grab a notepad from work to document the entire life-changing experience, and I'm also considering picking up some Mother's Milk Tea, to "promote healthy lactation." It's a given that Luke will pack our camera, and I'll have my smartphone for sharing the big news and providing random updates (and pictures, too, once I figure out how to do that part). So if you aren't following me on Twitter or Facebook, you totally should, because I will be able to post more easily to those accounts than I will on my blog while I'm away. (Though I may attempt to bring my work laptop as well.)

Seriously, though, the hospital bag. For me, less is more when it comes to packing, especially since the majority of the time I'm just hanging out in retro-looking gowns and mesh undies and all of my food cravings will be appropriately satisfied by 24-hour room service. But am I missing anything?

Lastly, in between all the activity, Luke and I are trying really hard to make our last couple of weeks as a family of four as fun as possible. Last week I took a day off work so we could all attend Indianapolis's annual strawberry festival, and the weekend before that we drove almost an hour to participate in the city's annual "Outrun the Sun" family walk. Tumbling class started two Mondays ago, which Kara and Nathan seem to enjoy, and on Tuesday delighted in the company of Luke's parents while they paid us one last visit before their upcoming trip to Wales. Other activities include zoo trips, picnics, and an ice cream expedition to Cold Stone Creamery.

They seem to be getting the fact that the baby's almost here. Nathan has been more cuddly with me than usual, throwing his arms around my neck for minute-long hugs when he might normally dismiss me in favor of some truck or book or puzzle, and Kara has been more talkative about the whole process, stating that the doctor will "open up my belly" to take the baby out. Now, I can't remember if I introduced that phrase to her months ago or if she came up with it on her own, but either way, she's allowing the process to become more real in her mind.

She's also asked to come to the hospital when it's time to get the baby out. The kids will actually be with my dear friend Molly during that time, but Luke and I will bring them up to visit as soon as I feel ready. I remember functioning in a zombie-like state almost the entire day of Nathan's c-section, a product of drugs and euphoria and exhaustion (I literally fell asleep in mid-sentence), and I don't want them to see me like that. But we are so excited for them to meet their little brother, so we'll definitely get them up there as soon as we can.

I turn 37 weeks tomorrow, which has catapulted me into full-on nesting mode, attempting to tie up every loose end in the history of the universe before Baby Brother's June 29 delivery date. Last week we focused on car maintenance and child seating; the Cobalt needed about $360 worth of repairs (mad props, savings) and over the weekend Luke cleaned out both vehicles and experimented with car seat arrangements for the first time since February. At that time, we made the decision to transition Kara into a high-back booster (sans five-point harness) to make room for the baby's infant bucket.

Come Saturday, though, we just couldn't do it.

Despite my initial confidence over this set-up, I became increasingly more anxious about it since reading about the National Highway Traffic Safety Administration's updated guidelines for child restraints back in March. While Kara does meet the height and weight requirements for a booster, she is still only three years old and isn't even close to outgrowing her current Britax Marathon. But keeping her in the Marathon would require us to buy a new car, and despite having an excellent reason to justify such a significant purchase (SAFETY), we simply cannot afford to do that. In my Google research I learned about a slimmer seat with a five-point harness by Sunshine Radian that looked like it would fit and also received favorable reviews on several third-party sites, but the seat isn't sold at any stores in our vicinity, so we'd have to order it online, and what if it didn't fit, and man, these things aren't cheap. We looked into other options for Kara, but all seat specs were similar to the Marathon's. We looked into other infant seats, but the Baby Trend Flex-Loc handed down to us from my friend Jenn has the smallest dimensions we've seen. Nathan's Britax Roundabout wasn't worth messing with because it's already plenty slim and fits his measurements perfectly.

We may as well give the booster a try, Luke and I would say in the end, each time the topic came up, and it came up many times. We'll stay off the highway while we test it out. Our longest drive in town is less than ten minutes. It will be okay.

But again: we just couldn't do it.

Luke spent all of Saturday morning once again trying to get the Marathon in safely and securely, but again it was all in vain. Despite your best efforts, you just can't force a square peg into a round hole. When that didn't work, we pulled out the booster.

It wasn't in the car five seconds before a horrible knot began forming in the pit of my stomach and I was sobbing to Luke that we had to order the Radian.

The Marathon brushed against the door of the Outlander, but just barely. The Radian would save us a precious inch and a half of seat space; we shouldn't need any more than that to make it fit, I said. This is our daughter's safety we're talking about. Please, please order the seat and save me from having a heart attack already.

Luke just nodded. He didn't need any convincing. He was nervous for Kara, too.

The Radian should arrive before the end of the week.

Buying the seat doesn't change the fact that we'll need to buy a new car once the baby outgrows the infant bucket, but we'll be in much better shape financially by then. I'm getting a raise at the end of the month that should absorb most if not all of the anticipated budget increases incurred by Life With Three Children. Tax refunds arrive in late winter, and our credit card debt will be gone by spring, at which point I should be due for another raise. We can plan to make room in our budget for a car payment by then.

In this scenario, I can tell myself It will be okay and actually believe it.

-------

Of all the worries I've had over my three and a half years as a parent, I don't think any of those experiences came close to the level of intensity of this one. Not even nursing. When choosing formula, I felt guilty over denying them the optimal choice in baby food, but at least we could afford to pay for it. Luke and I hate that we can't take on a car payment to get the best ride for our family; that guilt coupled with visions of our child's body being torn to shreds in an accident? If we had gone with the booster and something would have happened.... Well, there are no words.

Parenting is so much harder than you think it will be when you're first starting out. Luckily, there are also no words to describe its joy.

 

Thirty-six weeks. One more until full-term. Though, judging by the size of Baby Brother's man-cave, you might assume that either it's going to be any day now! or I'm already overdue. As does half of Indianapolis.

 

When I was at this same point with Kara (picture here) (stats here), I had gained 27 pounds; with Nathan, I was around 26 pounds, and by my 37-week appointment I had registered a nine-pound gain and was being monitored by my ob/gyn for HELLP syndrome. This morning, I only weighed 15 pounds heavier than the day I took my positive pregnancy test in October. I'm sure before the baby is born that there will be additional junk on my trunk, but right now I'm in awe. For a while I was crediting this to eating better and being on my feet more because of the kids, but now I'm starting to think the real reason was a terribly difficult first trimester where I lost a ton of weight and a conversative second trimester, food wise, spent gaining that weight back. Will this have an impact on Baby Brother's size? Is my habit of delivering large newborns a thing of the past? Only time will tell.

I've been told by complete strangers with total confidence that the baby is sitting high AND that he's clearly dropped, in the same day even, so, opinions and @$$holes and all that, but I'm inclined to agree with the latter. I'm feeling increased pressure in my pelvis lately; that combined with frequent (yet random) contractions have me shuffling around at a snail's pace. Meanwhile, Baby Brother's movements are more violent than ever; sometimes it's cute, and his level of activity does keep me from worrying about anything being wrong with him, but mostly it's uncomfortable, even downright painful, and overall these last few weeks of pregnancy have reduced me to a tired, weepy, anxious mess. Luke is a saint for putting up with me, because in addition to voicing my various aches and pains, I also can't shut up about all the things we still need to do, even though it's clear that he will be the one doing most of them, but he takes everything in stride and does his best to accommodate my wishes. It's almost like he's done this before!

Kara and Nathan are starting to grasp that Baby Brother's arrival is near as we talk more about what things will be like once he comes home. On my last entry, Molly asked a great question about how we plan to explain my c-section, but because they are still so little, and because because Kara is easily frightened these days by what she doesn't understand, Luke and I are keeping things simple. So far, our talk track has been that Daddy will take Mommy to the hospital so the doctor can take the baby out of my belly, and that satisfies them just fine. At this point, we don't feel the need to mention the surgical aspect of it; me just having the baby is enough reason for them to be gentle around my abdominal area for a few weeks. We can provide more information as they get older and/or ask more questions.

Right now, though, Kara seems more preoccupied with when the baby is coming out. On Saturday, I ran some errands, and the minute I returned, she asked if the baby was still in my belly. Monday, I went to the dentist to repair a cracked tooth, and when I got home, same thing. It's fascinating to watch your children's minds at work as they attempt to make sense of the world around them.

Truly, though, I love answering their questions, even when those questions lead me down roads untraveled. Like on Monday, when Kara was playing with our toy kitchen and she talked about coffee coming out of her breasts. (!!!) I think I know what happened; at dinner we were talking about the different ways that babies eat, and how in the beginning Baby Brother won't need solid food, just special baby milk, and he'll get that milk by drinking it from Mommy's breasts or by Mommy and Daddy getting it from the store. Maybe she thought other kinds of drinks were also accessible through Thelma and Louise? I couldn't tell. In any event, it was a conversation for the baby books, that's for sure - that, and her referring to nipples as "bristles." Be still, my heart.

37 weeks and are we there yet?

The answer is yes, yes we are. Full-term, baby! And you can stick a fork in me, because physically, I am so Done.

What to say about 37 weeks? I'm still averaging a 15-pound weight gain, which is mind-boggling to me, seeing as my nightly routine now consists of devouring as many chocolate cookies as possible while working through my collection of Friends DVDs (we just finished season 5). Over the weekend, it was Oreos. Monday? Chips Ahoy. Also puzzling is the fact that I can eat cookies, ice cream, candy, and other junk foods without trouble, but Raisin Bran, sugary kids' cereals, and any sort of fruit juice throw my system completely out of whack after just a couple of bites/drinks. What's up with that?

Speaking of food, I am ravenously hungry, so we can probably expect that weight gain to skyrocket come this time next week. Not "A Tale of Two Lunches" hungry like from my second trimester with Nathan, but on a lunch run a couple of days ago I did order one and a half roast beef sandwiches (and a bag of chips) (and a cookie) from my new favorite deli without batting an eye. I presume it will only get worse from here.

Also, I'm still generating inappropriate comments from society at large on my admittedly ginormous size. The mechanic who worked on my Cobalt last week said I looked ready to burst, and the after-hours janitor at my work, whom I had previously never met, was compelled while emptying my recycling to say that I was ready to pop AND ask if I was having twins, all in the same breath. Now that's multitasking!

Things are continuing to move along on the nesting front. Luke and I finally rearranged the toys that were wreaking havoc on our living room thanks to the spontaneous purchase of a shelving bin organizer over the weekend. Bathrooms have been sanitized, cars cleaned, pantries tidied, ceiling fixtures repaired, and nurseries finished. And tonight, we finally began packing our hospital bags. So far, all I have in there are some nursing tanks and bras, one pair of clean underwear, footies, a partially filled toiletry bag, and a breastfeeding book. We'll throw in a couple of going-home outfits for Baby Brother (one newborn, one 0-3 months, as per usual), and a beautiful crocheted blanket gifted from a coworker, but other than that, I am blanking. I know I'll need something for myself to wear upon leaving the place, but I'm not sure what that will be yet. I'll grab a notepad from work to document the entire life-changing experience, and I'm also considering picking up some Mother's Milk Tea, to "promote healthy lactation." It's a given that Luke will pack our camera, and I'll have my smartphone for sharing the big news and providing random updates (and pictures, too, once I figure out how to do that part). So if you aren't following me on Twitter or Facebook, you totally should, because I will be able to post more easily to those accounts than I will on my blog while I'm away. (Though I may attempt to bring my work laptop as well.)

Seriously, though, the hospital bag. For me, less is more when it comes to packing, especially since the majority of the time I'm just hanging out in retro-looking gowns and mesh undies and all of my food cravings will be appropriately satisfied by 24-hour room service. But am I missing anything?

Lastly, in between all the activity, Luke and I are trying really hard to make our last couple of weeks as a family of four as fun as possible. Last week I took a day off work so we could all attend Indianapolis's annual strawberry festival, and the weekend before that we drove almost an hour to participate in the city's annual "Outrun the Sun" family walk. Tumbling class started two Mondays ago, which Kara and Nathan seem to enjoy, and on Tuesday delighted in the company of Luke's parents while they paid us one last visit before their upcoming trip to Wales. Other activities include zoo trips, picnics, and an ice cream expedition to Cold Stone Creamery.

They seem to be getting the fact that the baby's almost here. Nathan has been more cuddly with me than usual, throwing his arms around my neck for minute-long hugs when he might normally dismiss me in favor of some truck or book or puzzle, and Kara has been more talkative about the whole process, stating that the doctor will "open up my belly" to take the baby out. Now, I can't remember if I introduced that phrase to her months ago or if she came up with it on her own, but either way, she's allowing the process to become more real in her mind.

She's also asked to come to the hospital when it's time to get the baby out. The kids will actually be with my dear friend Molly during that time, but Luke and I will bring them up to visit as soon as I feel ready. I remember functioning in a zombie-like state almost the entire day of Nathan's c-section, a product of drugs and euphoria and exhaustion (I literally fell asleep in mid-sentence), and I don't want them to see me like that. But we are so excited for them to meet their little brother, so we'll definitely get them up there as soon as we can.

The Great Carseat Experiment: Updated

I turn 37 weeks tomorrow, which has catapulted me into full-on nesting mode, attempting to tie up every loose end in the history of the universe before Baby Brother's June 29 delivery date. Last week we focused on car maintenance and child seating; the Cobalt needed about $360 worth of repairs (mad props, savings) and over the weekend Luke cleaned out both vehicles and experimented with car seat arrangements for the first time since February. At that time, we made the decision to transition Kara into a high-back booster (sans five-point harness) to make room for the baby's infant bucket.

Come Saturday, though, we just couldn't do it.

Despite my initial confidence over this set-up, I became increasingly more anxious about it since reading about the National Highway Traffic Safety Administration's updated guidelines for child restraints back in March. While Kara does meet the height and weight requirements for a booster, she is still only three years old and isn't even close to outgrowing her current Britax Marathon. But keeping her in the Marathon would require us to buy a new car, and despite having an excellent reason to justify such a significant purchase (SAFETY), we simply cannot afford to do that. In my Google research I learned about a slimmer seat with a five-point harness by Sunshine Radian that looked like it would fit and also received favorable reviews on several third-party sites, but the seat isn't sold at any stores in our vicinity, so we'd have to order it online, and what if it didn't fit, and man, these things aren't cheap. We looked into other options for Kara, but all seat specs were similar to the Marathon's. We looked into other infant seats, but the Baby Trend Flex-Loc handed down to us from my friend Jenn has the smallest dimensions we've seen. Nathan's Britax Roundabout wasn't worth messing with because it's already plenty slim and fits his measurements perfectly.

We may as well give the booster a try, Luke and I would say in the end, each time the topic came up, and it came up many times. We'll stay off the highway while we test it out. Our longest drive in town is less than ten minutes. It will be okay.

But again: we just couldn't do it.

Luke spent all of Saturday morning once again trying to get the Marathon in safely and securely, but again it was all in vain. Despite your best efforts, you just can't force a square peg into a round hole. When that didn't work, we pulled out the booster.

It wasn't in the car five seconds before a horrible knot began forming in the pit of my stomach and I was sobbing to Luke that we had to order the Radian.

The Marathon brushed against the door of the Outlander, but just barely. The Radian would save us a precious inch and a half of seat space; we shouldn't need any more than that to make it fit, I said. This is our daughter's safety we're talking about. Please, please order the seat and save me from having a heart attack already.

Luke just nodded. He didn't need any convincing. He was nervous for Kara, too.

The Radian should arrive before the end of the week.

Buying the seat doesn't change the fact that we'll need to buy a new car once the baby outgrows the infant bucket, but we'll be in much better shape financially by then. I'm getting a raise at the end of the month that should absorb most if not all of the anticipated budget increases incurred by Life With Three Children. Tax refunds arrive in late winter, and our credit card debt will be gone by spring, at which point I should be due for another raise. We can plan to make room in our budget for a car payment by then.

In this scenario, I can tell myself It will be okay and actually believe it.

-------

Of all the worries I've had over my three and a half years as a parent, I don't think any of those experiences came close to the level of intensity of this one. Not even nursing. When choosing formula, I felt guilty over denying them the optimal choice in baby food, but at least we could afford to pay for it. Luke and I hate that we can't take on a car payment to get the best ride for our family; that guilt coupled with visions of our child's body being torn to shreds in an accident? If we had gone with the booster and something would have happened.... Well, there are no words.

Parenting is so much harder than you think it will be when you're first starting out. Luckily, there are also no words to describe its joy.

 

36 weeks and coffee talk

Thirty-six weeks. One more until full-term. Though, judging by the size of Baby Brother's man-cave, you might assume that either it's going to be any day now! or I'm already overdue. As does half of Indianapolis.

 

When I was at this same point with Kara (picture here) (stats here), I had gained 27 pounds; with Nathan, I was around 26 pounds, and by my 37-week appointment I had registered a nine-pound gain and was being monitored by my ob/gyn for HELLP syndrome. This morning, I only weighed 15 pounds heavier than the day I took my positive pregnancy test in October. I'm sure before the baby is born that there will be additional junk on my trunk, but right now I'm in awe. For a while I was crediting this to eating better and being on my feet more because of the kids, but now I'm starting to think the real reason was a terribly difficult first trimester where I lost a ton of weight and a conversative second trimester, food wise, spent gaining that weight back. Will this have an impact on Baby Brother's size? Is my habit of delivering large newborns a thing of the past? Only time will tell.

I've been told by complete strangers with total confidence that the baby is sitting high AND that he's clearly dropped, in the same day even, so, opinions and @$$holes and all that, but I'm inclined to agree with the latter. I'm feeling increased pressure in my pelvis lately; that combined with frequent (yet random) contractions have me shuffling around at a snail's pace. Meanwhile, Baby Brother's movements are more violent than ever; sometimes it's cute, and his level of activity does keep me from worrying about anything being wrong with him, but mostly it's uncomfortable, even downright painful, and overall these last few weeks of pregnancy have reduced me to a tired, weepy, anxious mess. Luke is a saint for putting up with me, because in addition to voicing my various aches and pains, I also can't shut up about all the things we still need to do, even though it's clear that he will be the one doing most of them, but he takes everything in stride and does his best to accommodate my wishes. It's almost like he's done this before!

Kara and Nathan are starting to grasp that Baby Brother's arrival is near as we talk more about what things will be like once he comes home. On my last entry, Molly asked a great question about how we plan to explain my c-section, but because they are still so little, and because because Kara is easily frightened these days by what she doesn't understand, Luke and I are keeping things simple. So far, our talk track has been that Daddy will take Mommy to the hospital so the doctor can take the baby out of my belly, and that satisfies them just fine. At this point, we don't feel the need to mention the surgical aspect of it; me just having the baby is enough reason for them to be gentle around my abdominal area for a few weeks. We can provide more information as they get older and/or ask more questions.

Right now, though, Kara seems more preoccupied with when the baby is coming out. On Saturday, I ran some errands, and the minute I returned, she asked if the baby was still in my belly. Monday, I went to the dentist to repair a cracked tooth, and when I got home, same thing. It's fascinating to watch your children's minds at work as they attempt to make sense of the world around them.

Truly, though, I love answering their questions, even when those questions lead me down roads untraveled. Like on Monday, when Kara was playing with our toy kitchen and she talked about coffee coming out of her breasts. (!!!) I think I know what happened; at dinner we were talking about the different ways that babies eat, and how in the beginning Baby Brother won't need solid food, just special baby milk, and he'll get that milk by drinking it from Mommy's breasts or by Mommy and Daddy getting it from the store. Maybe she thought other kinds of drinks were also accessible through Thelma and Louise? I couldn't tell. In any event, it was a conversation for the baby books, that's for sure - that, and her referring to nipples as "bristles." Be still, my heart.