Lowe’s.
It was one day after Jesse’s due date that labor first started. I was standing in the nuts and bolts isle of Lowe’s while Ryan searched out pieces for the Jeep.
Funny that 2 years later we’re doing that same thing.

It’s kinda a joke now. I don’t seriously think that Lowe’s has the magical labor touch, but the walking around can’t hurt.

I’m becoming a expert at following Ryan around and blogging at the same time.
I’m a professional walking blogger.

But I’m not in labor yet. And I’m okay with that.

I guess. Cause really, I have no choice, you know.

I’ve actually been waking up at decent times lately.  Today I was up at 6:30, thanks to my cat who was continuously howling that he just had to go outside. I know that’s not all that early, but it is for me at this stage in pregnancy.
I don’t mind at all.  Sam heard me get up or something because he came out all sleepy eyed and smiling.  He’s sitting here enjoying some Blue’s Clues on Netflix.  I’m sitting here enjoying him squished up against me. 

Today is Ryan’s birthday and it just so happens that he isn’t on the schedule at work today.  What an awesome birthday present!  that just makes it an even better day to have a baby.  Plus, my nose is completely dried out.  I don’t know why this is a sign of approaching labor but for me, but it is.  I guess, at this point, however, everything is a sign of approaching labor.  I’m now past my due date.  Labor is coming.

My husband doesn’t know how old he’s turning (34 by the way).  Every year it’s the same thing.  He always thinks he’s a year younger or a year older.  It cracks me up when he gets it wrong, then stops, and gets a look on his face and says, How old am I turning again?

You know they let him fly helicopters, right?  There are a lot of numbers and calculations involved in that.  The man can’t even remember his own age but he makes an exceptional pilot.

Funny.

Last night I had a dream I had the baby.  It was a little boy and I passed out during labor and didn’t wake up until after the birth.  The baby was really chubby, but the right size for a newborn. 

Except he was walking already and saying Mama and carrying around Hot Wheels cars.

Ryan told me yesterday that he had to run to Lowe’s this morning.  I’m going with him. 
He said we’ll run laps around the store if we have to.  He really wants the baby to be born today.

Well, he can run laps all he wants.  I’ll sit down, enjoy a water, and laugh the baby out.

I don’t know where the calm has come from.  In this sea of impatience I’ve been drowning in these last two weeks I’ve managed to find peace in the not knowing.
In the waiting for God’s good timing.
Even in the physical pain that comes from being pregnant for the 8th time.

Why do we so easily block out the joys that can come from the waiting.  The anticipation, the excitement, the build up…
The suffering makes crossing the finish line that much more amazing.

I have good pregnancies.  I have been blessed with many children, uncomplicated labors and deliveries, and quick recoveries.  Looking back on my impatience makes me cringe.  How many people would give up anything to be in the discomfort of a 9 month pregnant body right now.

And here I am taking it all for granted.

No more, I say.  I’m counting this as joy.  I get to be 9 months pregnant.  I get to feel the harsh kicks from a full sized 8 lb baby in the womb.  I get to be awakened all hours of the night to pee.  Again.  And I get to go through the pain of labor and delivery.

It’s a gift, having a baby.  And while those lingering impatient thoughts are inevitably going to sneak in, I’m going to remember when I feel them that I’m getting a baby out of all this.

And I’m going to count the waiting as joy.

Jesse is 2.  He really likes bananas. 
Really like bananas.
We’re working on his response to the word no.  Lately it’s been an obvious crying threat with a big adorable boo-boo lip that makes me giggle inside every time.  However, we have to stop him from being so discontent at not getting what he wants.

He is getting it a little.  Kind of.  Here was today’s conversation.

Jesse: Mom? Can I have banna?

Me: No, you already had a banana this morning.

Jesse [subtle pouting]: Gabe would give me a banna

Sometimes Jesse surprises me by saying something so clearly.  This was one of those times.  He was seriously trying to guilt me into giving him another banana by telling me that Gabe(10) would have given him one.

For the record, Gabe would not have given him one.  Gabe would have asked me if Jesse could have one first.

Though I was impressed with the fact that Jesse managed to not give the cry threat.  And I was disappointed at his lack of adorable boo-boo lip.  

Watching my kids grow up is like fluffy bunnies with stingers in their tails. It’s soft and sweet and a little painful.

It is a bit early for this ginormously huge pregnant lady to be up.

I’ve been up since 5 because Jesse woke up crying. I just told him to stop and he did but for some reason I cannot go back to sleep.

So, I guess that makes me up.

Today is Valentine’s day. St. Valentine was executed on Feb. 14th for performing marriages in Rome when they were forbidden.
Or something like that.
A pope declared Feb.14th as Valentine’s day sometime in the 400s, I think.
There is more to the story… But I don’t know it all. And I simply don’t care to type it out on my phone anyway.

You’re familiar with Google, right?

Anyway, today is also our new baby’s due date. Which has nothing to do with saints or popes.
Ryan has an event today that he’s not really excited about so he told me that I should have the baby before then. But I just don’t see that happening.

Maybe tomorrow?

Tomorrow is Ryan’s birthday. And my grandma’s birthday. It would be a neat day to have a baby.

We went to Lowe’s and Walmart yesterday looking for a belt for my vacuum cleaner. We didn’t find a belt. Or labor. But I did find some very large ankles. I’ve never swelled so much.

Have you any idea what its like for a 9 months pregnant lady to not have a working vacuum cleaner? We had to order the belt and it won’t be here for like a week or something.

Torture!

But at least I found out what was wrong with my new netbook. Which had nothing to do with vacuum belts and everything to do with me.
Who knew you had to be at least 10% smarter than the equipment you’re operating?
So that’s a relief. I really like the little thing and no way did I want to take it back.
User error repaired.
Netbook works like a champ.

Sometimes it’s the little things.

[smile]

So, happy St. Valentine’s Day to you! Celebrate with your honey and be glad nobody had to die in order for you to be married. That is, if you’re married.

And happy due date to me! I can’t believe I’m almost done!

[bigger smile!]

Biscuit is my 1980 CJ5 Jeep. And I really, really like her.

Biscuit is short for Hibiscus, which Joe couldn’t say when he was little so it always came out biscuit.  So when I decided to call my Jeep Hibiscus, it was a no brainer that she’d be nicknamed the Biscuit.

The little guys think she’s a giant toy just for them.  She does kinda have a play with me look.  Although we’ve had her for years now, she’s still a pretty big deal.  When Ryan started her up the other day some of the younger boys just stood in awe, mouths wide open.

She’s a pretty cool little ride. But it’s taken a while to get her where she is.

You know how you sometimes make a bad decision.  And you kinda know it in the back of your mind like a 2 year old knows not to put a Hot Wheels car in your drink but he does it anyway even knowing there will likely be consequences?

Buying the Biscuit 2 1/2 years ago was a very toddler thing for us to do. We wanted it the way we wanted it and we wanted it that way RIGHTNOW.  Not our most glorious decision ever.  But, buy her we did. And have her we do. 

And she was so much fun for about 2 weeks.  Then, the pretty much totally predictable thing happened. She’s 30 years old.  She needed upkeep.  A leak here, a tweak there.  

It’s a good thing my husband is mechanically inclined. 

What Ryan found in all his tweaking was that there was a little more tweaking that needed to be done. 
And a lot of part repair that needed to be done. 
And a whole lot of part replacement that needed to be done. 
We toyed with selling her, even listed her for sale once, but more issues kept popping up and we decided that we couldn’t.  It just didn’t feel right to us, selling her in the condition she was in. 

Our only option was to lose a ton of money on her, or take the time to make her awesome.  We decided on the latter.

Heh heh.

So, the Biscuit has been out of commission for a while. Like, pretty much the whole time we’ve had her. Almost.

However, little by little…
Very little by little…
Like 2 1/2 years of little by little…
We’ve managed to save our pennies to purchase new parts, refurbished parts, junk yard parts…
And this weekend she is finally fixed up and just about ready to drive.

In fact, Ryan actually pulled her out of the garage and took her for a spin in the cul-de-sac yesterday.  Even though the tabs are a year and a half expired.

He’s such a rebel.

She still needs a little tweaking.  And we’re short a couple of seat belts.  And tags.  But she purrs like a kitten. 

I don’t know much about cars.
Okay, I’ll admit that I don’t know anything about cars except where the gas and brake pedals are.  You should see me try to turn on the van’s windshield wipers if it starts to rain while I’m out and about.  I think it’s probably comical even though I’ve never laughed about it myself.

But even though I’ve not been gifted with any mechanical intelligence, I do know the Biscuit sounds tons better than she did when we first got her.

And all thanks to my husband who’s put the needs of his Harley behind the needs of my Jeep.

My Jeep is running.  I’m getting a new baby.  And I had a Roy Rogers drink today.

I’m feeling a little bit spoiled right about now!

My husband is awesome.  I’m not trying to make you jealous, though you probably should be.
I’m just sayin’.  He’s pretty darn good.

First he bought me one of those very not good for you but very, very good gas station cappuccinos. It was a necessary evil.

The other day he picked me up some grenadine.  I’ll be trying my hand at homemade pink lemonade. I haven’t gotten around to squeezing those monster lemons I wrote about a few days ago but I did get around to scoring a 2 liter of coke and some maraschino cherries at the grocery store today. My husband is a pushover.  In a good way.

I think I’ll make myself a Roy Rogers, which is my most favorite drink ever in the whole world. 

Funny story I may have already told but don’t remember so I’m going to tell it again.  I’m good at that.

Ryan took me out to eat not long ago and the waitress had the bar dude make me a Roy Rogers to-go even though it wasn’t on the menu.  As we were leaving I had to use the little girl’s room so I handed Ryan the big, full drink and joked for him to not drop it. Which he didn’t.

Not right then, anyway.

When I got out of the bathroom I thanked him for not spilling my perfectly mixed drink. 

However.

Just after we walked out through the restaurant doors he hit his arm on a pillar.  The arm attached to the hand with the drink in it.  And while his arm came to a sudden stop when it met with the bricks, the drink did not.

My most favorite drink traveled through the air and the entire thing ended up on the sidewalk about 6 feet in front of us.

It
was
absolutely
the
most
hilarious
thing. 

Perfectly timed.  I would have spit drink out my nose if I had been drinking.  But, of course I hadn’t because my drink was all over the sidewalk. 

Do you know what he did?  He just stared at it.  Wide mouthed.  Like one of our kids when they spill milk at the table.   And even though I couldn’t stop laughing he felt super guilty.

Which is why I have all the stuff here to make me my very own Roy Rogers now.

Mmmm.

Maybe I’ll squeeze some of those lemons and make the kids some pink lemonade for the warm 70 degree days we have coming. 

Maybe. I’m a bit tired. We grocery shopped and that might be as much as I can handle today.  So maybe I’ll wait on the lemonade.
But not on the Roy Rogers.

Or the unopened bag of Hershey’s Kisses in my fridge.

Can you say heartburn?  I’m feeling it just thinking about drinking soda and eating chocolate.
Why do I punish myself so? 

Actually, my heartburn has been much less intense the last few days.  So, maybe I can get away with a little spoiling.

I’m going to go have a coke and a smile. A coke with grenadine and cherries in it. 
Right now.

I’m beginning to wonder what I’m going to blog about after this baby is born.  My mind is so focused on giving birth that I’m having trouble thinking of anything else to write about.
I’m assuming that some semblance of normalness will set in pretty quickly after the whole have a baby thing has happened.  Normalness around here usually presents me with quite a few blog worthy things to post about. 

Things that don’t have to do with Sharpies.
I just don’t know if I can go down that road again.

There are posts I do want to get up.  My daughters two surprise birthday parties a couple of weeks ago were very awesome.  We have a bunch of pictures of us all at my sister’s house and all the cousins on my side of the family.  Except the three gestating babies.  All three of my mama’s kids are pregnant right now.  For the next few days anyway.

Well, my brother isn’t actually pregnant. 
His wife is. 
Obviously.
With their first. 
It’s a boy.
First babies are so much fun! Well, all of them are but there is so much newness with first babies. 

And two of my sisters-in-law on my husband’s side are preggers, too.
Hi Cassie!
Wow! That’s a lot of new family in the growing!

And I really should have taken a picture and posted about Sam’s chosen attire today. 

I got a new laptop.  I could post about the ups and downs of that. Why does there have to be a down here?  I’m getting ticked off with technology lately.  Whoever invented technology in the first place I’d like to have a chat with.

Nothing is dependable.

Well, there are some things that we can depend on.  Like Jesse.  Who fell asleep beside me about 45 minutes ago.  I can depend on him to be up till at least 10 tonight because of this late nap. So, there is always that.

And heartburn.

And Jehovah’s Witnesses to show up at exactly the wrong time.

I know I’m being such an Eeyore. Please just bear with me.  My house of twigs just fell again.

It’s been a day.

I’m beginning to think that maybe I was wrong about having the baby today.  I know there is still plenty of today left, but I just don’t feel like I’m in labor.

Today I cleaned up my bedroom.  I shampooed my carpet, wiped down the walls and the door with Mr. Clean’s help, and erected the Arms Reach Co-sleeper, which I absolutely love, by the way.

If I could recommend any one thing to a new parent it would be an Arms Reach, or similar style co-sleeper.  We have the Mini.  And a Kiddopotamus SwaddleMe. So, I guess that’s two things.  But they are both unbelievably awesome.

I got sidetracked.

So, my room is clean and ready.  I put a candle on one of those candle warmer thingies so it smells good in here. For some reason, the house is quiet.  Jesse is driving his cars.  The rest of the boys are outside playing or helping Ryan with the Jeep.  I’m relaxed. 

Maybe a little too relaxed.  Maybe that’s my problem.

Maybe if I could just work up a little angst…

When my Jehovah’s Witnesses stopped by earlier I was a little tense.  They are really nice ladies but their insensitivity bugged me more than a little.  I told them I couldn’t talk, that I’d cleaned all morning and needed to put my legs up and they ignored me.  Just started talking and talking.

And still, this body just couldn’t muster up even the slightest hint of labor.

And so here I sit. Done moving for today. 
I think I’m going to watch something on Netflix. On my new Toshiba Satellite Netbook that my husband bought me yesterday because my old HP laptop is on it’s very last legs. 

And try to find that patience I had in abundance two days ago.

And then have this baby tomorrow.
For sure.

I have decided that I’m having the baby today.

I have no basis for this kind of thinking. No change in contractions. No other stuff that would lead me to believe that today will be the day.

Only that I can no longer easily take a complete breath. And little dude’s, or dudette’s, head is in such a position where I am more than uncomfortable much of the time.
It’s pinchy.
And stingy.
And it feels like somebody is stabbing me in the pelvic area.

I’m just ready to get this thing done.

It’s funny how quickly I can go from calm, yet excited patient gal to crazed lunatic, wild-eyed unsettled lady.

I opened up my Bible to Psalms. The verse that struck my eyes immediately was something like, but maybe not exactly, “The voice of the Lord will make the deer give birth…”

I’m not sure what this is supposed to mean for me. But I hope it means that I will be having a baby today.

Hey, it could happen. Anything is possible.
Right?